it's my party and I'll cry if I want to

[palfriday]

Who: Gal Friday + YOU
What: Icebreaker party
When: 3/13, evening
Where: Rischie
Warnings: TBA

[the morning announcements alter daily now, by the second week of the month. one week until the party. four days until the party. the party is tomorrow.]

The new cruiser get-together will start at 9PM tonight at Rischie! Remember: The dress code is cruise elegant! Hm? [there is a sound like a crackle and pop of static.] The Captain says he won't be attending, but he'll be paying extra special attention to everybody who does!

[if that's a sufficient enough bribe.

"but we don't have cruise elegant clothing," you cry. but you do! have you not checked the top drawer in your room's dresser, where at most two perfectly suited formal outfits are located? you have? but they weren't there before today? don't ask questions. just get ready for the party.

the house lights in the club are at full brightness, giving everything the sort of uneasy liminal feeling a room gets when used for something opposite its intended purpose. booths line the walls, and small tables and chairs sit between them and the dance floor, which is empty except for one table, holding a series of "HELLO, MY NAME IS..." nametags and sheets of glittery stickers. Friday is there, of course, standing by the table. she's even dressed up! and if your character hasn't corrected her previously, their name tag will have their true name. there are also a few buffet tables with refreshments on them, and trays bearing canapes and flutes of champagne float by. (deftly avoiding minors! excluding Jinx, but only if Venti is within close proximity. welcome to parenthood, barbatos!)

once everyone is settled in, Friday will clear her throat (??) to get everyone's attention and explain the rules of the night. it's an altered version of twenty questions: every person in the room must answer ten questions about themselves, asked by their fellow passengers, collecting stars for every answer considered acceptable. when they have 10 stars, they're allowed to leave!

oh, yeah, the door to the club shut about five minutes ago. it doesn't seem very eager to open back up again.

time to break some ice! breaking ice and cruises always go well together, after all.]

Comments

[skaikru]

( after approximately ten minutes of sulking about the very indignance of being corralled in a room like cattle, clarke griffin will eventually try to fall back on old habits: making every inconvenience an opportunity to learn something new, find her footing, or at least dig her own grave a little deeper.

still pretty crispy in the face, begrudgingly wearing that dress-code appropriate outfit from her room with canvas boat shoes, and absolutely has not slept properly since arriving; but here, ready to mingle, and try to drag new information from whatever riddles their director speaks in tonight.

so, hi friday. did you miss her? )

So the Captain couldn't make it. What's holding him up?

[palfriday]

[the answer being "yes, of course."]

Somebody has to keep the ship running, you know! It's a very difficult job!

[skaikru]

...Right. Of course.

( press x to doubt, but try to avoid outright sneering. )

But you said he's watching us, right? ( paying special attention to, had been the actual quote. but clarke's still taking a quick look at ceiling of the night club, like there'd be a camera — except she's been told there are supposedly no security feeds on board — or some sort of creepy vent, or maybe some discernable two-way mirror illusions above them. ) That's still got to be distracting.

[palfriday]

Oh, it's not too bad; if nothing too exciting happens, he just pops in every once in a while! Having to manifest is the part that would be really distracting, so that's why he doesn't do it too often!

[skaikru]

( ah, four comments in and clarke's already fighting off low key terror. cool. cool cool cool cool cool. )

Oh. So he manifests places. Like a ( give her a second to chew over verbiage, magic is new and kinda sucks tbh. ) ghost, or demon, or... boogeyman. Right. Right. And when he's not manifested he's just —

everywhere?

[palfriday]

[considers...]

Not everywhere! Just where he has an anchor!

[skaikru]

( once more: )

Right. Of course. And that would be... where, for example?

[palfriday]

[thoughtful pause.

taps herself on the shoulder.]

[skaikru]

( she shouldn't be surprised by this revelation, and yet — here's clarke's forehead somehow gaining more wrinkles as she furrows her brow even further. lips pressed into a thin white line for a few moments, her very own thoughtful pause.

then, finally on to personal questions: )

Gal, what are you?

[palfriday]

A Pisces!

[skaikru]

I... What?

No. I mean, are you a human?

[palfriday]

No, mostly! [pointedly turns her face towards the stickers like hm bit of an unfair situation we have going here clarke]

[skaikru]

( oh right, those stupid heckin stickers. clarke had admittedly heard ask questions, imagined a not-very-casual way to ask clarifying questions after being left to her own devices for half a month, then everything had been sort of... white noise.

have any of her questions been satisfactorily answered? not by clarke's metric. is she taking that glance as a cue to peel off a sticker and offer it out to friday? sure, whatever, she wants to ask more questions. )

Mostly?

[palfriday]

[yeeeeees sticker!]

And then somewhat not! [a pause] You really wouldn't know what I am, even if I told you, you know! So, I'm really just me!

[skaikru]

( she hates every single moment of this experience, but at least right here and now, clarke feels confident that she figured out the barter system.

she's already peeling another sticker off her page, holding it on the tip of her finger but not even remotely offering to pass it over yet. )

Gal Friday is a pretty interesting name. Definitely unique. Who gave it to you?

[palfriday]

The Captain, of course! He gave me my name a few decades after making me!

[skaikru]

...Right.

( never a dull, non-traumatizing moment talking to you, friday. have a sticker. )

And... does he have a name?

[palfriday]

[begins to shake head, then pauses]

Well, I'm sure he had one once... But, it's been a very long time... So, he's just the Captain, now!

[skaikru]

( that is decidedly not a satisfactory answer, so. no sticker yet. )

So he's been at this for... a while. Always with a cruise ship?

[palfriday]

[visibly droops]

Yes, always! [pause] I don't know why... He must like them?

[sticker ;n;]

[skaikru]

( no sticker yet, we've reached yet another chapter of Clarke Griffin Pushing Her Luck. this is leverage right? )

So that makes boats, challenges, mysteries, and magic. But not manifesting or death. Got it.

( and so casually, like this is a perfectly natural segue: )

Who's Julia de Burgos?

[palfriday]

[. . .]

An Earth poet!

[a pause. peels off a sticker.]

Which one of you has my gun? I really do need it back!

[skaikru]

( fuck shit fuck, go back!

summoning every ounce of feigned diplomacy and well practiced deceit, clarke's knitting her brow and ever so slightly cocking her head. )

What gun?

[palfriday]

I really didn't mind it, until I noticed that...

Nothing will happen if you don't give it back, but I really wish you would! [beat] It's not dangerous. Not to any of you.

[skaikru]

( it's so sweet of friday to offer amnesty for this theft. clarke absolutely believes none of it. )

I'm sorry, Gal. But I really don't know what you're talking about. Or how we got from poetry to guns.