but even if the stars and moon collide [afterparty]

[allatonce]

[Well, that sucked!

After about an hour, invitations written in colorful ink appear under everyone's doors.]

Understandable if you're not up to it, but we're having a memorial and "don't wanna be alone" hang-out in the restaurant again.

[The restaurant has very much been decorated with the most rainbow fabric she could find in the department store. Jonathan got roped in, mainly so she could make sure he was doing okay, but also because she assumed that he knew how to put a tablecloth on a table. He seemed like the type, anyway.

After consulting with Undertaker, most of the food that's been set out is more traditional Chinese funeral food than Victorian—you can get a whole roast duck in the restaurant—but she tried for a mix of things. There is fruit, the aforementioned roast duck, and several vegetarian dishes along with potatoes for some reason and... cookies? Okay then.

Joy's trying, because that was way less terrible for her than it was for basically anyone else.

Happy Pride Wrath, New Rapture!]

Comments

[dullshooter]

Obviously, you needed to see it some more before you died.

[He offers the bottle back to Brett. He could use it if they're gonna continue this line of conversation.]

Think of the company, though. I mean, it's a mixed bag and we're dropping like flies, but there's definitely worse.

[Or: absolutely none at all.]

Worse places to die, too. At least you can cram in a bit of living in here before you go.

[inaclearing]

[He accepts the bottle and takes another drink, wincing.]

God, that's bad. It's a glorified fishbowl. But - yeah, the company's not too bad.

[dullshooter]

If I wasn’t lumped in here with the rest of you lot, I’d find the whole situation a lot more entertaining.

[Not to say he’s not getting his kicks in but…man, some million years and this is the likely end?]

Got any regrets? Confessions? Unchecked items on the bucket list? Wouldn’t be a bad idea to start getting them out now.

[inaclearing]

Oh, yeah. But nothing that involves anybody here.

[Or, you know, being stuck at the bottom of the ocean.]

Would've liked to travel together with Luca more. We go separately a lot, for work, it's not really the same.

[dullshooter]

[They may have been suitemates for all this time but —]

…Who’s Luca?

[inaclearing]

My husband.

[He mentioned this at that first garden party? But, then again, he's actually not all that surprised that Misfire wasn't really paying attention.]

[dullshooter]

[That was like, a whole two-three weeks ago!

…and he also wasn’t paying attention.]

Ohhh. Not being able to see your conjunx before you die? That’s gotta suck.

[He makes grabby hands for the bottle again.]

Where’d you have gone?

[inaclearing]

Not the fucking ocean.

[Wow, Brett said a fuck! He hands the bottle back over and sighs, head dropping back against the counter with a little thunk.]

And not the woods. It would've been fun to go abroad somewhere...didn't really have the money, though.

[dullshooter]

[He said a fuck and we’re all so proud of him.]

See - there’s the silver lining of your entire society exploding into chaos. You can just hijack a ship and go. The only thing holding you back is how much fuel you can siphon.

[He takes another dispassionate chug of the Malört.]

Earth’s got some pretty decent spots, too, from what I’ve seen. When it’s not being destroyed by alien invaders, of course. [Movie reference or real facts? Don’t worry about it!] On the off-chance you actually survive this - which, you might, with the power and luck of being the most regular guy here - I hope you can see some of it with him.

[inaclearing]

I have been weirdly lucky.

[People went after an actual trained bodyguard before an admittedly normal skinny guy like him? Wild.]

If this were a story, I'd either be the audience surrogate and survive, or I'd die at the climax for an emotional beat.

[dullshooter]

[Misfire takes another swig, clearly deep in thought.]

You still keeping that diary? I feel like that puts you firmly in the first category.

[inaclearing]

I am.

[He thinks about that for a moment.]

Yeah. They'd be dramatic voiceovers, or something.

[dullshooter]

Exactly. That’s your meta-lifeline. If you don’t keep it up, you’ll lose your narrative relevance, and then you’re condemned to being a tragic sacrifice for our collective angst.

[inaclearing]

I think it'd fall a little flat, after the last couple weeks.

[Like, Brett figures people here like him fine, but he's not like Obi. Or an actual kid.]

[dullshooter]

I can ramp up the melodrama for you. Start wailing, throwing furniture…so your sacrifice doesn’t go to waste. Provided I’m still kicking, of course.

[inaclearing]

[Brett considers this for a moment.]

Could you throw a table through one of the windows? You know, just for fun.

[dullshooter]

In spite of the guaranteed cruel and unusual punishment it would warrant?

Absolutely.

[inaclearing]

What - oh my god, not the ocean windows. The building windows. Definitely not the ocean windows.

[dullshooter]

Too late. I’ve made my promise.

[inaclearing]

[Brett laughs, letting his head thunk back against the counter. He's a lil bit drunk. Just a lil bit.]

That's one way to end this whole thing.

[dullshooter]

Go out in a splash of glory. When I make it out, I'll be sure to pass on the tales of everyone's exploits across the internet.

[inaclearing]

Would you? Make it out?

[dullshooter]

[He does a very big shrug.]

I think so, but now you’ve got me doubting.

[inaclearing]

Well, are you waterproof? All the way down here?

[Like, phones can be waterproof up to a certain depth, but Brett's pretty sure we're well past that.]

[dullshooter]

I'm...not sure?

[There are those with aquatic alt-modes, but he can't really compare himself against that.]

I've never been at the bottom of the ocean before. But it should be fine, right?