on this the night all hallows' eve

[sailmods]

who: the living and the damned
when: October 31st, 8PM to 11:59 PM
where: around the main pool on deck 6
what: HALLOWEEN PARTY, 1/2
warnings: TBA

[as you exit the elevator and walk towards the pool deck on Halloween night, you follow a sort of labyrinth of panels and decorations. about halfway through the maze, a scythe swings into your path, and a tall animatronic crackles to life:]

It is harvest time. I can smell it in the air. And I sense your soul is ripe for harvesting as well. When your time comes, my scythe will cleave your soul right off the vine like a ripened pumpkin. Time for carving!

[welcome to Halloween aboard the Serena Eterna.

the Infinite Spirit Halloween has been put to good use by a crack team of Mizuki and Ebalon, and half of it seems to now be located around the deck on the main pool. the pool has been dyed a swamp-like green; fake plastic vines and (hopefully) fake plastic limbs float in the waters. there are fog machines studded throughout that are putting out a frankly dangerous amount of fog, and it can be pretty difficult to tell if your next step is onto the floor or directly into the pool.

there is food available on a long table on the side, but it’s entirely the usual fare found in the buffet, though there are also two punch bowls: one is a delicious fruit punch, and the other is about 99% vodka and then a single orange. the bar is also open, with extra liquor bottles scavenged from the other bars on the ship. Halloween music plays from unseen speakers.

Friday is here, and dressed in costume, but never seems to stop fussing and rushing around long enough to actually have a conversation with. but, hey! Jenny is here! hooray!

have fun. you have ‘til midnight.]

Comments

[crushed_pearls]

"I shapeshift some!"

(The dress, clown.)

"Oh, you probably mean -" Erin shakes out the hem of her miniature dress and says something technically true: "I was talking with SecUnit and got all wet so I decided it'd be easier on my dignity to finish the job instead of drying off. Anyway! I still can't see shit, think you've got room on your shoulder for me?"

[not_the_last]

No, she was definitely thinking more about the body shape and size than the wet. Finding out that Erin did this on purpose is a considerable relief.

"Oh -- probably? Here, let me --" There are paper napkins on the table; she takes a few and crouches down to offer them as a close approximation to a towel. "If you'd like to dry off a little first?"

[crushed_pearls]

"I'll give it a shot," Erin concedes. She wraps herself in the napkins in a rather good imitation of a towel (wetness spreads across them immediately) before taking off her tiny hat and wringing it out vigorously. A little puddle splashes the floor. "I told ya I'd surprise you with my costume! Really glad you decided to come and see at least a little of Halloween's whole deal."

Erin beams a smile at Cassandra. This was the right move after that heavy talk. Just being here is already making her feel better.

"Now c'moooon it's shoulder time! I'm really light like this, I promise."

[not_the_last]

She can't quite suppress a giggle as she reaches down again. "Shall I -- pick you up? Or just put my hand down and you can ..." A vague gesture, meant to indicate walking or climbing up her arm.

[crushed_pearls]

"Lemme just hop onto your hand. I've been a lot more...well being small's been very helpful for my sense of personal space but if you just pick me up I'm pretty sure I'll turn into a feral cat," Erin admits. She frowns, mostly at herself. "...Not that the idea doesn't have a certain appeal. You have very nice hands, but I gotta wrangle myself at least a little here instead of recklessly going 'yes let the attractive lass hold your whole body, surely this doesn't end poorly'."

Erin wraps her wet hair in another napkin, now looking for all the world like she just got done showering, and bounces on the balls of her feet in anticipation.

[not_the_last]

Well, now Cassandra has to deal with the image of herself trying to pick up Erin the way one would pick up a feral cat -- scruff of the neck, perhaps, followed by swaddling in a blanket? -- and it's going to be just a moment before she clears her throat and lays her hand down flat for Erin to step onto.

"I'll be as careful as I can," she says, "but you might want to sit down or crouch, for balance? In case I move too quickly?"

[crushed_pearls]

"Yep! Not my first rodeo, though usually I ride in people's pockets. I never really did this just for fun before." Erin steps onto Cass's hand; she weighs so very little like this. "Oh! And before I get all excited I remembered what I forgot to mention earlier. I'll tell ya once I'm up there, I don't wanna shout."

[not_the_last]

Cassandra slowly lifts her hand to her opposite shoulder, close enough to easily step across, and then just as slowly rises from her crouch to her feet. It's a smooth enough ride for her passenger; Cassandra's had years of lessons in moving gracefully.

"You've done this often before? -- What is it you're shaped like? I've never seen anything like it."

[crushed_pearls]

"Oh yeah, lots of times ever since I learned how," Erin says easily enough. She clambers onto Cassandra's shoulder and takes a seat, clutching onto the cloth near her little butt as a handhold. Without thinking her other hand reaches towards Cass's hair, but when she brushes it she pulls away, self-consciously. "Easy way to smuggle bonus people into secure locations, ride along with someone you want to observe, that kind of thing. I can get even smaller actually." Erin holds her hands out at the approximate diameter of a US quarter. "Past that you just can't go-go, but who looks for a person that tiny?"

Erin sighs wistfully. The memories are from bad times, but it was still hard work done well. She can be proud of that part. Liz Malloy learned real skills that Erin Peters should keep, and practice, and know.

"...As for the character, you remember the Muppets? She's from a fiction like that, except drawn by hand instead of done with puppets. Her name's Smurfette. She was made by a wizard to be a traitor, but she defied him and sided with the innocents he wanted to prey upon, and became a hero."

[not_the_last]

"... Oh." It's very soft, and her smile is genuine but complicated. "Well done she, then. What became of her?"

[crushed_pearls]

"Well, the show ran for a very long time. She had many adventures and learned all kinds of things about the people she'd come to love. At the end of the story she gives her life to protect them, and her community's love makes her anew. She and they finally have peace."

Erin leans, gently, until she's resting against Cassandra's cheek. "The library has some of the picture books she's in, if you ever want to read them. They're for children but I still like 'em."

[not_the_last]

"Perhaps I shall. I haven't read a children's book in some time, but -- well."

A pause; her smile slips.

[crushed_pearls]

"Hey," Erin murmurs, gentle and soft. "If you wanna have a talk I'm looking a bit silly to have, I can change back. Something on your mind?"

[not_the_last]

She summons back the smile, and shakes her head. "It's nothing. Just ... thinking about home. -- Weren't you saying you had something you wanted to tell me?"

Very smooth segue, Cass, very not at all awkward.

[crushed_pearls]

There's an urge to nudge, to push gently, to get Cass to share with someone safe -

(But that's not how it works, is it Peters?)

Yeah. It's not. So instead Erin scoots in closer, under Cassandra's hair. "So. I need you to not leap to any conclusions, alright? The confluence of worlds on this ship means this is just information rather than proof of anything, but: when I said I can feel the Captain feeding I could have been a lot more clear."

Erin takes in a deep breath. Cass is about to be the first mortal here she's really explained this to, and the second person at all. "My people harvest a byproduct of passion. We call it Glamour in this language, and it's...the currency of wonder. All our magic requires it, from shapeshifting to dream walking to binding contracts in fate. It's found anywhere you can find strong emotions, and also in mortal dreams, and it's not the passion itself. If...if anger was light, say, its Glamour is the warmth of that light. And for the entire time I've been here, something has been snatching every time I reach out to harvest. The Glamour is taken, but our passion is undimmed. Do you follow?"

[not_the_last]

Cassandra stands still, listening. At this angle Erin can't see much of her expression, but what she can see is magnified: the smooth curve of cheek tensing slightly as the lips purse, the temple shifting as the eyebrows tug minutely closer together.

"I think so," she says slowly. "This ... harvesting, is it something you have to decide to do, or does it happen of itself, like breathing?"

[crushed_pearls]

That gets a thoughtful "Mmm" out of Erin.

"It's most like a decision but often that decision becomes reflexive or habitual, like scratching an itch. Glamour feeds the part of me that is other than human; more importantly, I require it for all my strongest defenses. If you gave me food and water and love I could live on those alone, but I need Glamour to thrive. Deprived I become thin, jittery, then morose, listless, unmotivated. That said...I suspect whatever the Captain is doing is systemized. This is his place of power; why do it all by hand?"

[not_the_last]

Cassandra's quiet, still frowning.

"This is ... another thing you think is similar, then. That he feeds off of our emotions the same way that ..."

It trails off; she doesn't finish the sentence.

[crushed_pearls]

"It fits things I've seen," Erin agrees. "But I can't say for sure. Like, I've encountered things that drain or replace emotions directly. The damage done is significant and long-lasting, it sucks. Victims of over-harvesting in dreams likewise suffer from severe lethargy and might develop lifelong depression if not treated in time. Those attacks take place on a scale of days, though. They're swift and insidious. Some passengers have been here for months. Is that evidence that he's taking a byproduct? A sign of a light hand? Something else?" Erin sighs. "I'll bring it up when we go to see Skullduggery but I wanted to bounce it off you."

(You wanted to tell someone human what you're getting from them).

Well...

Yes. That too.

[not_the_last]

The shudder would barely be visible if they were standing or sitting close together. As it is, Erin's going to feel a small earthquake.

"A tree feeds off sunlight," she says, low and distant, "and the sun loses nothing, and doesn't notice. A fly feeds from a horse, and the horse feels a sting but takes no harm. A spider feeds from a fly, and the fly dies at once. Mistletoe feeds from a tree, and the tree dies slowly."

(She remembers overhearing a conversation between Sylas and Tylieri, not too many days before it all ended. Everything must eat to live, my friend --)

"Which is this, do you think?"

[crushed_pearls]

Erin is quiet for a long stretch. The music of the party surrounds them, and all the sounds of people trying to make enough merry to forget their anxiety.

Erin's voice is so soft at first that she herself barely hears it. She has to lean into Cassandra's ear, where the tight notes of guilt and fear can't be hidden: "Are you asking about him, or about me?"

[not_the_last]

She rests both hands on the table, lowers her head. Tries not to think about how close Erin's mouth is to her neck. Shuts her eyes.

"I'm asking about him."

Her voice is still low but no longer distant, and a little too shaky to be gentle.

"You can tell me about you as well, if you want to."

[crushed_pearls]

The presence near Cassandra's ear remains for a tense moment, and then Erin sits back down, little legs dangling off her friend's shoulder.

When she speaks it's strange. Not hard or distant, but with a kind of quiet awe. "Out in the party is a bedsheet ghost, a youngblood lass named Undine. We met at a drinking game where you share your life experiences, and bonded over both of us loving women, her ideas new and unsure, mine tested and complicated. I took what rose from that bond and it tasted of fellowship and relief."

"With SecUnit I listen to the stories it loves and come to love them too, to let its passion and enthusiasm warm my heart, and that warmth sustains me."

She can't stop. She's started and it all just comes out.

"Peter Smith was curious about my people and that curiosity gave me what I needed to show him what I would have looked like when we were hidden. It tasted of old pain and new wonder and wary connection, and by that taste I chose to trust him. Captain Stede Bonnet offered me his unconditional enthusiasm and delight and fed both halves of my soul here in this strange place where I feel so lost. A young woman I will not name made a pact with me, and fate itself drips me Glamour that is sweet and heady, a promise that I have a place in the world upheld by my faith to it. I mourned with the others at the meeting and our despair became something I can use to protect them."

Erin takes a deep breath. Her napkin towel crinkles. "I won't say that there's no such thing as bad habits with Glamour. Like men who love money, some Lost start seeing people as dispensaries that provide them power."

"...But if I am sustained because the world is beautiful, and abundant, because I am part of it and of it and in it...is that wrong?"

[not_the_last]

As Erin speaks, Cassandra's hands stay on the table, fingers slowly curling under. She breathes, in and out, keeping it steady with an effort; she squeezes her eyes shut, trying to press back unaccountable tears.

"The tree," she says, when she can trust herself to speak, "and the sun. Is that the way of it?"

I will believe you, she says silently, if you tell me it is.

[crushed_pearls]

"Yes," Erin says at last. "You wouldn't have ever noticed if I didn't tell you, and you still won't. But...I wanted to give you the knowledge that has given pause to my own fear. The Captain's deeds are horrific...but I'm not sure his nature is. I..."

"I was hoping to help you feel safe, being in your own heart."