exsiliumlogs | C'est la mort. (Open)

Date & Time:Tonight, around 7.
Location:The viewing windows.
Characters:Anyone who knew Peace or who might stop to pay respects at a memorial even if they didn't know her.
Summary:A memorial gathering for an Exsile who ceased to exist with the most recent world change.
Warnings:Tears, cursing, bitterness? Not sure yet. People can label threads as they come up. Everyone is free to make their own and jump around. Prose and action are both fine.

It's a waste of emergency torches, but there are a few set up around anyway, lit that soft unearthly blue of emergency lighting. The flowers are paper, clumsily folded from discharge sheets, some from the prison, some from the clinic. There are no photos. All of the ones she was in before are empty spaces, or pictures of Stanley or others who'd been holding her at the time. The music is strings, playing softly from a haphazardly tossed tablet. There are no chairs. Instead, every pillow from 144 is on the ground as seating.

Stanley isn't sitting on one, though. He's standing at the window, staring down at the planet so far below. Today, he's combed his hair. It's still in his eyes because it's too long, but he's made the effort to tame it at any rate.

He's not sure how to start things off, but if someone shows up he'll greet them. That's what you do, right? So that's what he does.

"Thanks for coming."

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[Oh boy.

It's hard to actually get the words out. Stanley swallows first and digs the toe of his shoe into the floor, glancing away.]

Uh. It's ...she's gone.

Who's gone?

[He has the suspicion in the back of his mind, but he keeps it out of his face for now. Making sure.]

Peace. You know...what'd you say? The snot factory.

[He's still pointedly looking anywhere else, but his voice only shakes a little. It's...not a big deal to most people. Stanley knows that. But to him, it feels like losing the world. Way worse than when they literally gave up the planet. The only good thing is gone, now. It's hard to talk about it, but Spike helped them out. He should know.]

[He pauses for a long moment and then sighs. What to say? Kids disappear; kids die.

Mimicking raising a glass.]

To the snot factory, then.

...Peace.

[Thats alright. He's not expecting anyone to have much to say. He doesn't know what to say either. But he nods at the effort. An imaginary toast for a nonexistent girl? Why not? It's fitting in an unfortunate way.

The words, though, sound as strange as ever. In a refuge on the moon from the war that destroyed their old war torn refuge on the planet, what else could they possibly wish for but Peace?]

How'd it happen, anyway? She just disappear? [He waves a hand in the air for a moment. A magician doing a vanishing trick.

But he's not as affected as Stanley, and he finds himself feeling some sort of odd guilt about that-- but the truth is that he didn't spend much time with her.

Doesn't mean that he can't give Stanley an awkward pat on the shoulder.]

[The shoulder pat is appreciated, though there's not much to say about it. These situations defy words, don't they? Stanley nods anyway, in response to the question. That's just how it was.]

Gone overnight.

Just gone.

I wonder if it's better or worse that way. ["Than seeing her actually die", but he won't say that.]

It makes me feel crazy.

[That's probably a bit too honest for a new acquaintance like Spike, but there aren't any close friends to babble at, either. Besides, Spike won't really care. Or at least he never seems to. It's predictable. There's something reassuring about that.]

[A part of him considers mocking Stanley.

But he's improved himself through time from "unbelievable asshole murderer" to something only slightly better.]

I know the feeling.

Really?

[So far, everyone keeps looking at him like he's sprouted an extra head whenever he asks for a reality double check. It's apparent that most people in this place have more dimension hopping experience than he does.]

[He shrugs, keeping it nonchalant.]

Maybe a different sort of loony, though. Can't say I blame you much.

I don't know how everyone else is just...fine.

[He frowns a little, not able to even attempt to piece it together at the moment. His thoughts are all loose and fuzzy and hard to catch.]

None of this is okay.

Okay? Most things aren't.

At least everyone's not bright 'n cheery, yeah? That would rankle a bit more than "okay". [Every cloud has a silver lining? Nauseating thought.]

Better stay away from that Elmer guy.

[You know, if you don't want to put up with bright and cheery. And really, who does?]

Never heard of him, but I'll keep that in mind.

[Eyes him, weighing his words, and decides to go with the least tactful option.] I could probably spout on about how you'll get over it, but you won't.

[Actually, that kind of helps. It probably shouldn't, but it does. It takes a bit of the pressure off. ]

What do people do?

About losing someone?

Hell if I know. Cry. Scream. Throw things at people. Spend months in a basement eating rats. The usual.

[...]

That might be even grosser than drinking blood.

I won't disagree. But I don't think we've got any basements lying about here, so you're safe from that one.

[Quieting down to consider the question more seriously.] ...Anyone else know her well?

She played with Pete a few times. Like, I accidentally went home for a couple days once.

[There are a couple others too, but...they're busy or in jail.]

Blubber together with him, then. If you're both the blubbering sort.

It'd be therapeutic. [Spoiler: he doesn't actually understand what that word means.]

Uh...right.

[Yeah, nope. In spite of his pretty hair, he's not much of a crier in general. He shrugs. It was a good idea in theory or whatever.]

[Mimicking Stanley's shrug.]

What do you want to hear?

[What he wants to hear is that he didn't cause this. That he didn't fuck things up. That this girl had been better off for being brought here.

But that isn't true, is it? No one's going to say that to him. And he doesn't want lies or platitudes, either.]

You're off the hook.

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heroxide - 2013-11-29 20:02 (UTC) - Expand

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