Mr. Arrow (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sharpasanarrow) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
foolishmortals2018-01-28 02:18 am
sharpasanarrow) wrote in foolishmortals2018-01-28 02:18 am
This is fine. It's fine. We're fine.
[Well that was.
Something.
Underneath everyone’s door they’ll find a slip of paper, in shaky calligraphy, that reads:
INVITATION
Meet in the Dining Room.
Do not bring alcohol of any sort.
Something.
Underneath everyone’s door they’ll find a slip of paper, in shaky calligraphy, that reads:
Meet in the Dining Room.
Do not bring alcohol of any sort.
Upon arrival into the Dining Room it’s clear that this is very much...not a party.
The center of the room is cleared of all tables, and instead has all the chairs arranged in a circle, facing inwards. On the tables pushed to the side are jugs of water, cups, plates of saltines, and several hastily-made pamplets that read on the front ”How to cope with Child homicide” that contains an advisory list:
- Try not to think about it.
- Do not get hysterical.
- Crying is permitted, but keep it within a reasonable volume. (For the consideration of fellow mourners)
- Maintain civility
- Do not plunder the belongings of the deceased.
- No drinking or gambling your sorrows away. Set an example.
Standing in front of one of the chairs already is Mr.Arrow. He clears his throat as people start to slowly come in.]
I gathered you all here because I believed it would be conductive to group morale if we all worked through our feelings regarding recent events. Talk about your feelings with one another, but not with me.
[He steps back a little, out of the circle of chairs, in what seems to be an invitation for people to sit down and discuss with one another.]
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so she's decided that since words are hard but music is easy, she'll do her own sort of memorial to the kid. after all, she's probably the only other one here who knows any Neverland songs. even if her exposure to the genre is. limited.
which is why she'll be sitting at the party with her guitar, strumming out a nice little acoustic version of, well. this. An Effort Was Made.]
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It's a nice song.
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Slightly peeved still maybe.]
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[He's not really here, he's just. Well, he's kind of physically here. Everything is bad and terrible and they all came close to dying and that little girl--
She wasn't even as old as Mabel.]
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Well, she'd like to talk to him. Make sure he's alright. Especially with the way he's staring into the distance.
She comes into view and tilts her head toward the seat next to him.]
May I?
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LATER THAT NIGHT
It was great talking to Dipper again, huh???
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It was so, so much worse than last week. It was weird, of course, and a little gruesome, but it wasn't like this. It wasn't seeing a friend being...being....
Crumbs keep flying everywhere as he chews--he's nearly emptied an entire bowl of saltines at this point. It's fine. Everything is fine. He's just a bit catatonic at the moment.]
cw: emeto mention
[Is he saying that to get Louis's attention so as not to spook him or because his mouth has been having trouble doing the words today in general and he has to get back into practice? Probably both.]
Slow down. You'll make yourself sick.
[More sick. He himself has already been sick today (how could you not after seeing that, how could anyone, good lord), he gets it.]
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...isn't that really dry?
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[Rémy had figured nobody would have appetite, but look at you! Not that...you look too good, Louis. Rémy looks like he has gotten a bit better by now, but anyone can see he's trying to force himself to be okay]
Stress-eating?
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He's kind of lifeless when he's there, though. He only showed up at all because he'd feel guilty if he didn't (he feels guilty about several things, really, after all that happened), but he's entirely silent, sitting on one of the chairs with his knees drawn up to his chest again. Surely this is the correct way to cope.]
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Comforting people always made him rather uncomfortable, since he never knew what to say. Still holding half a sleeve of crackers, he slowly makes his way over to Pinocchio.]
...Hey. How you doin'?
[Clearly, he wasn't doing well, but Louis is going to ask that anyways.]
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[It's a very different take on things than the last. But she shouldn't be surprised considering who's hosting. But it's okay. This is okay. She-- she had something she'd wanted to say.]
...ahem. Listen. I want to say a few things. I meant everything I said back there. Even though things are like this now, I know we can get through this. I know it probably doesn't feel much like it right now but-- we will keep getting stronger.
And I want to support everyone.
Back home... a lot of people were looking to me to guide them-- but I followed my own path. We're not... the most normal bunch. But I would consider any of you one of my people if you asked something of me.
I'm going to find a way to get us all out of here. No matter what it takes. Maui... he would have done the same. And I know he'd want me to.
[Probably. You know. If you could ask the dead their opinion.]
Just... I want you to know you can rely on me. I know I seem small and probably not that reliable, but-- I'm stronger than I look. I'm used to carrying the hopes and expectations of others. So... if you're having trouble, I can carry yours too. Whats a few more, right?
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Sometimes there's two options: you cry or you throw things. Hiro goes for both. Anyone stopping by to check on him might hear the crashing of a lamp being thrown or soft, frustrated sobbing. He's fine. He's absolutely fine and happy with the idea that you can upgrade things all you like but you can't stop them from breaking.
Eventually, he does show up at the party. He can mostly be found picking at a plate of saltines and not drinking the water he poured himself. He doesn't really want to talk to anyone, but he will respond when spoken to.]
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Of course Marco wasn't going to just leave him alone -- who was the one who said that talking to others was best when in grieving? -- so he walks over to the other teen's door and gives it a loud knock, while also speaking up so Hiro can hopefully hear him.]
Hiro? It's.. it's Marco. Can I come in?
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party
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Well.
Kim does not leave her room, not for a good long while. She's going to miss the majority of the...therapy, coping, that's just a given.
Eventually, with...a long amount of time, when it's well into the night, she shows up. Some people are probably gone by then. At the party - or the aftermath of the party, or what have you - you can find Kim, with a bowl of chicken broth and a forced smile, pale in the face and eyes red from crying.
She's. Yeah, she's fine. It's fine. This is fine. ]
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She's worried.]
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So he went into his room first to calm down a little bit, writing and doodling stuff in his notebook until he felt like he could go and talk to others. There was someone he wanted to talk to in particular, anyway. Someone with a certain magic mirror.
So he arrives with his hood up and takes a seat for now, not even bothering to touch the food and water set out for them because frankly eating is the last thing he wants to do after watching someone be torn to shreds by a ceiling fan.]
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[Rocket himself is going to keep mostly to the edge of things, drinking a cup of what is almost assuredly not water.]
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... Hey.
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Still...he can't get out of his head what happened during the trial, with everyone volunteering. Rémy is there, nibbling on a saltine without much enthusiasm]
I feel I should have volunteered to die in her place, but I didn't want to die! But she didn't deserve to die either. She was just a little girl, and I'm an adult. She had a whole life ahead of her.
I already achieved what I wanted to be, she was just growing up. I feel like I failed her.
[Yeah, he's feeling conflicted. Rémy is a good person, and he empathizes with everyone who tried to sacrifice themselves for Jane's sake, but he wanted to live, and that's that.]
That's not selfish, is it? That I didn't want to volunteer for her.
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And finds one of Arrow's pamphlets.
And marches over to that circle of chairs because clearly there is a talk long overdue. ]
A number of us here came from worlds with ~magic~ of some form or another. It appears to differ in form and function somewhat between worlds. [ Here he pauses to mentally condense his entire introduction because he's suddenly realized no one wants to deal with any of that, least of all him. ] ...We can get to all that later.
Point being, we need to come up with a powerful and permanent exorcism ritual or spell or whatever as soon as possible. Anyone with something useful to add, start talking.
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[He's got a taser now, he's just saying.]
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She does, however, bring. A paper bag. There is likely a water bottle or something in that bag before she occasionally sips out of it. But obviously not alcohol. Obviously.
She is... responsible. She follows rules. She has to follow rules. Because once you stop, you start to get ideas and. She can't have those. She can't go down that road again.
So she's polite, friendly, and maybe coming on a little strong, but at the party nonetheless. She tries to give people space but, well. Being alone scares her. The silence scares her.]
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... Hey, Doreen.
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HELL SKYPE HELL SKYPE HELL SKYPE
Beast is dragging his feet on actually coming to the post-trial gathering for numerous reasons, including but not limited to gnawing guilt in the pit of his stomach and the general emotional exhaustion of watching a child brutally murdered. He should go straight to his room and fetch the mirror but instead he's making rational adult decisions and going upstairs to the bar to get several bottles of wine. It's fine. He's fine. It's fine.
When he does finally make his entrance at the after party, it's with a half empty bottle of Cabernet in one hand, the mirror in the other and an anxious porg in his hair.]
I'm not sure most of us have the energy to do much of anything right now and I know many of you are going to be rightfully angry with me for withholding it but...I do have a way to talk to the dead. Those who've been killed in one way or another in these games at least.
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[Fucking DARE YOU to say different]
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FORD
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DIPPER
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HEY BROTHER-IN-LAW
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1/2
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HEY DIPPER
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It's Your Boy
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donald help me for the love of g
what's that? he doesn't fucking have ears
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So, it probably not a surprise that he's late to the party, yet again looking like he's been crying for a while. He won't immediately say anything, but eventually he's gonna let out a comment about that pamphlet.]
No one's gonna follow these rules, dude.
[Seriously
Later, he can be found in the kitchen, making...rice. He's moving almost mechanically, finding the already open bag of rice, grabbing the bowl to put it in. If you walk in, don't be surprised if he doesn't immediately notice you.]
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[Two kids died but is that gonna stop him from being an absolute piece of shit? Nope, it's not! Negaduck's here and he's got a whole bunch of booze with him in his arms. He sets it down next to his chair and gets comfortable, popping open a bottle and downing it while watching this sobfest. Happy cryday, everyone!]
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Honestly, Soos wants to punch him, but instead he's gonna grab a bottle before Arrow tries to take it away. He might need this later.]
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