( open ) happy moonsgiving, everyone! (forward dated to 11/15)

[crocodilesmiles]

Date & Time: All Day, November 15th, 3313
Location: Focused centrally on the Moon Base Cafeteria.
Characters: Any and all!
Summary: It's a feast on the moon under the guise of being a new sort of Thanksgiving! Food, drink, merriment, food comas... lend a helping hand, fill a few plates of goodies, and meet friends new and old!
Warnings: None right now. Please PM this account should anything go beyond a "my grandmother is also reading this and that is okay" level of appropriate.
Notes: Tag in action or prose, and please specify a time of day, location, or activity your character is participating in! (Set-up, the feast, clean up, etc.) Feel free to offer multiple prompts, as your heart desires! Also, Collette is asking for people to write something they're thankful for on butchers paper on the wall before getting their first plate of food. This is 100% optional!

In the morning, the setting up begins. It's hard to say what's a morning versus what isn't on the moon, but using the lighting system as a sort of guide, those who offered to help set up the feast or continue on with the cooking will all be there bright and early.

After things are cleaned, the cooking continues on while further set up of plateware and silverware and hard to break glasses are left to those helping hands with a mind for arrangement details. The whole of one section has been converted into a sort of buffet-style lineup, waiting for the dishes to be complete and set at ready. All varieties of the usual dietary fare have been offered, some in greater quantities than others.

Then comes the time where people stopping by or trickling in aren't just turned around or co-opted into assisting; it's feast time, though not before an announcement that each person getting a plate of food must write at least one thing they're thankful for on a large sheet of butcher paper taped up to the wall. There's a variety of colored markers and pens provided, from someone's personal (and eclectic) collection. It's a soft price to pay for free food and plenty of it!

When the feasting has wound down, so begins the clean up. Tired, drunk, well fed, over fed, or simply content, people will be shuffled out or dragged into helping turn the cafeteria back into working, normal form. What decorations were added will need collecting (or stealing), plates and dishes and cooking implements and pots and pans will need washing, and floors a good sweeping and waterless mopping before things are all back in order. Leftovers, if there are any, will need to be placed in sealable containers and put into refrigeration.

And then, blissfully unaware of anything impending on the horizon, to bed, or different haunts, for the night.

Comments

[firstroar]

[he smiles, a little hurt in his eyes. but it's no real harm, that kind of concern. it's rooted in affection, after all.]

More than anything, it may be a benefit to the both of us. For your sake, setting aside painful memories. For mine...[a hand on his chest.] sharing what good memories I have to someone more than worthy of them.

[you've always wanted to become a living scrapbook, haven't you?]

[crocodilesmiles]

More worthy?

( It makes her laugh, just a little. She's too tired for more. )

I am a fan of sharing good memories. If it helps you out... I can't say no to that, can I?

[firstroar]

I should hope not. I wouldn't be able to walk away, knowing I could have helped and failed to do so. [he looks past her, at the number of doors.] Show me where to go, and we'll see about putting some of those unpleasant dreams aside for a time. Enough to give you some better rest.

[crocodilesmiles]

Mmm! ( She looks down the hall, realizing after a bleary moment they're -- actually there. It's funny, all of a sudden. Ha! Such perfect timing when they'd stopped! ) We're actually here already! This is me, right here.

( She points to the last door in a line. Like she said... far away in this wing from others. Restrooms between her and the next wing.

She moves for the door, opening it, watching it slide back into the wall with a hum of satisfaction. Everything inside is orderly, her signatures taped to the walls like a strange tapestry of decoration. The bed she uses is in clear evidence, as is how she uses the one across from her: she has a shirt folded on it even now, from when she'd gotten ready for dinner hours earlier. Her tablet sits there too, next to a book, no title to be seen. )

Did you want water or anything?

[firstroar]

No, thank you. [he follows her inside, a hand sliding under the collar of his cape where the fastener is set, peeling the purple off shoulder to shoulder and draping it over his arm. it makes him look smaller, sans flowing fabric.

he stops at the dumping-grounds bed, giving things a little regard one by one, staring a little longer at the book at wondering.]

[crocodilesmiles]

Okay, if you're sure!

( She backs her chair into the space by her chosen bunk, only then sort of belatedly realizing -- )

Wasn't I supposed to be taking you home?

[firstroar]

This a worthy diversion. [his smile is apologetic when he looks her way again.] I apologize; it was just an excuse to send you on your way here. You're very tired, Collette.

[crocodilesmiles]

I -- okay, maybe I am.

( Her smile certainly shows it. Canting her head to the side, she breathes out in a sigh, giving in to the inevitable. )

But it didn't seem right to leave before everything was finished up again. Like I need to be there for the whole thing, or something.

[firstroar]

[those words stick strangely in his head, keep him quiet for a time.]

I understand.

[crocodilesmiles]

( She looks at him, examining his face. She knows he does. Blue isn't one to say things for the sake of saying them. She likes that about him. )

What do I need to do for this dream thing?

[firstroar]

What any dream requires. [he sits, clearing a spot among her things.] You sleep.

[crocodilesmiles]

( She looks to her bed, pausing before reaching down to make double extra sure her brakes are on. )

With you here, just like that?

( She's uncertain -- it may be easier, it might not be. She's tired enough it probably doesn't matter at all.

That thought on her mind, she begins the process of transferring herself to the bed, grunting with the effort. )

[firstroar]

With the understanding I may do likewise not long from now. [smiling wanly. tired old man.]

[crocodilesmiles]

I do have three spare beds.

( She quips, inbetween bouts of coordinate movement. It takes some time, but eventually Collette is completely contained on her bed, belatedly realizing she's not dressed for bed, the sheets aren't pulled back, and she's too tired to care either which way.

Flopping back down with a sigh, she eyes the bunk above her. )

Goodnight, Blue?

[firstroar]

[he keeps his attention split, not wanting to make her more uneasy about the whole business by watching her every move. he'll be still and consider the things set around him, little aspects of personality strewn around in a fashion that's just one more facet, too.

he looks her way at the dubious remark.

softly:] Goodnight.

[he'll move to cut the lights, and then sit and wait. he can be quiet, but he does make the effort to feel...not present at all. this isn't about him – not right now. it's about those grim things that will start crawling out of the subconscious soon.]

[crocodilesmiles]

( There are fidgets. There's an awareness, but the unrelenting pull of sleep lures her down and down, until her eyes remain closed, her breathing evening out. The dreams almost seem like they'll pass, except that what Blue's done is too effective.

The predawn or late dusk light starts to creep into her mind, and along with it, the restless forms of dozens of animals, soldiers strewn between them. She knows the uniforms. Comrades, compatriots -- patriots of her country. That's what military service meant, wasn't it?

An unasked, unanswered question. Looming in the distance is the imposing form of the pool ship, something cold and hot in her stomach all at once. There's James, the lion, king of beasts, leader of a doomed brigade. There's Timmy, and Kelly, further away, difficult to make out in the current light.

There's the cry that wasn't, the movement forward over razed terrain, open to all attacks. The sound and sight of the dracon beam bearing down on one Auxiliary at a time, incinerating all they were within seconds in the most painful way imaginable.

It's brilliant point focuses on Collette, and the pain begins. Only like each night since the zombies, it doesn't just make her wake up, unable to dream through her death anymore than she'd been unable to live through it. Instead the pain shifts, becomes something grasping and cloying, something tearing the air from her lungs and leaving her part girl, part crocodile, part monster on the ground, tatters of familiar clothing streaming in blackened strips from her body. She can't walk -- she tries, but the most she manages is a pained crawling, watching in horror and unable to properly scream as her body changes, inverts, mimics the horrible grasping nature of the undead from the start of the month.

Worse, as her eyes tear away from herself, seeing her friends where they fell, she watch them get up, similarly horrible amalgamations. Crawling, crying, tearing at themselves, and with a suddenness of logic in dreams, it's not just the people she remembers from home.

It's the people here, all the ones she's loved and cared about, all the ones who remain with her still.

And she screams. )

[firstroar]

[Blue is quick, though memories are always quicker; he's moved to her side, fingers on her temple, another hand gently grasping hers. his will pours in, unnoticed, and seeps into that awful and distorted night.

he hates learning things like this – that children as young as he was still must endure horrors. but resenting doesn't change the fact, nor the task he's set for him.

Dracon beam light flashes, then flares, all-encompassing as Blue pulls at the scene, and imposes his own. hostile light glares, then eases to the gentle mimic of daylight.]

What's wrong?

[it's a small child's voice – much younger than either of them. the little girl's watching as she lifts the ball off the artificial grass.

there's a lot of it – a field of it, enclosed under a massive dome of pearly pastels and lights from unknown places. it's warm, without a breeze or scent of earth.]

Are you sad?

[the question is as much for Blue as it is for Collette; it's a conversation in memory, after all. it's happened before. his hands are unseen, supporting her in this moment, gently smoothing the monsters off her skin.]

[crocodilesmiles]

( Collette seems startled. It's startlement that turns to wonder, twisting around to look at this unfamiliar place. She doesn't answer the little girl, not sure she's been addressed, not sure what's going on past the acceptance that it's happening.

The pain and fear has shed itself in favor of this new strangeness. A sky that isn't a sky; grass that feels a little different than she remembers.

None of it hurts. Nothing, currently, hurts.

She flops back with a sigh. )

What is sad?

( She asks, maybe of the little girl, maybe of herself. Maybe of everything. )

[firstroar]

You looked sad... [it's an absent statement now; the little girl's squeezing the ball and contemplating something.

she peers down at Collette, all wide eyes and curiosity.]

Are you going to play with us?



In a little while.

[Blue's seated on the other side of Collette, weight resting on the back of his hands. it's about as carefree as he's ever looked – and young.

his smile shifts from the child to Collette.] We'll catch up.

[crocodilesmiles]

Blue?

( She surprised, pleasantly so -- Collette reaches out with a hand to touch him, a holdover from how she responds to people when she's awake. )

Do we have a lot of catching up to do?

( She takes this mental landscape as in stride as she did the one generated by her own mind. Her attention slips past Blue, the delight settling down into curiosity. )

Who's the little girl? Should we keep her waiting long?

[firstroar]

Carina.

[he's solid enough, as dreams will allow.

he nods the direction the girl ran to.] She'll be there, with Oyae and Kim and Yuki and Yui...Hillman sees to them most of anyone. See, there?

[he tilts himself so he can point past her, where an older man with some ridiculous, old-timey president facial hair and a metal arm.] That's him. The children love him a lot.

[crocodilesmiles]

Hillman?

( She asks even as he explains, turning to look where he points. His face makes her smile. It's ridiculous, in a way, but she likes the absurd anyway. )

Do you like him?

[firstroar]

Of course. [brightly.] He's been with me from the earliest I can remember. And he helps the children I find feel safe and welcome here.

[he looks past her, up and around.]

This is our refugee ship, Shangri-La. We've been in hiding here for hundreds of years. And each new child I find makes it a little safer, with our wills coming together with that single hope of safety.

[crocodilesmiles]

( She considers all of this. Shangri La sounds familiar, but she has trouble focusing on why, in her own personal context. It's the rest that draws her onward, the story that pulls her away from the one that had been wrapped so tightly around her at the start. )

Refugees from what? Where do you find these children? What will you do in the end?

[firstroar]

[smiling still, he lifts himself up off the weight of his hands, pulling his legs in to sit cross-legged. said smile wanes to something more sober.]

Humans are afraid of us, and have been from the start. Those that even know we exist, that is. I fly to the cities and seek out others like us and bring them here before they're detected. Most are very young. [he nods in the direction the child had run, now playing with others her age.] But that's better, so they can still have time to be a child still.