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]

( 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.

[palfriday]

[...]

Please?

[skaikru]

What kind of gun is it? I can keep an eye out for it.

[palfriday]

[the sound of glass cracking, and a sluggish droplet of red over her middle knuckle.]

You don't have to take it! It's not dangerous! It's not for you!

[skaikru]

( just gonna... take a half step backwards to avoid falling glass and champagne, track the slow leak of blood — blood? viscous, that looks too thick — and then.

maybe she's a bit of a shark, taking the first letting of blood as a sign they're getting somewhere.

preemptively extending a hand with another sticker on the edge of her pointer finger, and asking: )

All guns are dangerous, Gal. So who is it for?

tw: suicide ment

[palfriday]

Me.

[her face tilts down, taking in the mess] I hope no one slips! I can't clean until the party ends!

blanket cw for suicidal ideation throughout the rest of this thread probably

[skaikru]

( of all the responses she was expecting, that... hadn't been on the list. there's room for interpretation in friday's response, but the world clarke just came from was flush with similar ideas in the face of the impending apocalypse. so.

a small sliver of her resolve cracks. that moment where you look at an enemy you don't entirely understand, and realize there's more beneath the featureless surface.

after a beat, clarke will slowly — oh so slowly, never really taking her eyes off friday — kneel down and use the edge of her dress as a makeshift rag to sop up the champagne mess. quietly, a degree or two more gentle: )

Why do you need that option, Gal? I thought death wasn't permanent here anyway, that's what you told me.

[palfriday]

Thank you. [just a quiet little murmur before she continues on.]

Oh, it's not! But, there's just so many awful sorts of ways to go, aren't there? So, after a while, you try to make sure there's ways to avoid those! [pause] Death isn't too bad, but dying still isn't very fun!

[skaikru]

Hm. ( a slight huff of agreement. clarke has maybe never full on died, but has flirted with the afterlife enough times to know the process of dying is... taxing. )

So like, death is guaranteed, but suffering is optional. And how many times have you died, Gal?

( the repeated use of her name despite a lack of actual human connection, forced eye contact despite a lack of eyes to meet. clarke is still trying to parse out what about her is captains puppet and what part may be genuine enough to want to avoid pain with her death. )

[palfriday]

Lots of times! I'm actually really surprised I haven't been killed once yet; except for Jinx, nobody's even really tried! [and that's basically the nicest anyone has ever been to her.]

[skaikru]

( it's that sort of comedically perfect timing that has a tray of finger foods float by at this moment, and clarke is distracted for a moment — just long enough to track its movement and snatch a few napkins off the stack nestled between the plates.

then her attention is rooted back on friday, momentarily dropping her stickers on the welcome table the faceless woman has been stationed at this entire time. then with hands free except for the makeshift compresses, clarke's reaching for the wrist with the sluggish red bubble tracking down towards costume bracelets. if allowed, she'll even go so far as taking that cracked champagne flute remnants out of friday's fingers, then go about dabbing dry any mess within her palm.

idly conversational the entire time — )

And why did Jinx try to kill you?

[palfriday]

[she freezes entirely when touched, seemingly just staring at Clarke's hands. but, she does manage to speak.]

Oh, I called her by the name that I had on file! The information is always correct, but it's not always, well... right... I know the right name, now!

[skaikru]

( deer in headlights response aside, clarke will pull with a gentle but insistent pressure in order to get friday's hand open enough to be tended. it'll be sloppy medical work, just like mopping the floor with her dress had been sloppy janitorial work.

it's the thought that counts, right? more than stickers? )

Really? What else do you know about us?

[palfriday]

Everything there is to know! I only try to remember the most basic things, though; it's more fun to try to learn about people!

[the blood comes out from where small slivers of glass pierce the flesh - but, when they are removed, the space that would have been left behind seals immediately.]

[skaikru]

( yeah, that fits with everything else creepy and un-human about this entire ship. it fits with the notion that she was made, and maybe more an anchor than a person. but clarke tries to suppress any negative thoughts she has about drawing parallels between gal and a.l.i.e as she sets about making sure every piece of glass is gone — as thoroughly as she could with glaring house lights and no tweezers. )

Hence this party game? What's the most interesting thing you've learned about us so far?

[palfriday]

Gosh, it's not so much a thing as... [a slightly wistful sigh] Look at how well everybody is getting along, even so early on! That's such a good sign!

[skaikru]

( wounds closed and blood dabbed away, clarke finally drops her hands and steps back; allows a foot or so more of space between the two of them. and not so casually crumples the napkin with friday's blood into her hand. )

...of things to come?

[palfriday]

[nods] I know I say this every time, but I really do have a good feeling about you guys! You all seem so clever and helpful...

[skaikru]

Does "clever" and "helpful" see us through to the destination of this boat alive?

( laying it on a little thicker: )

What's the point of bringing all of us here and not telling us why? That's not fair, and we'd probably be more helpful if we knew what we were up against, Gal.