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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.

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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[TBH SG is just silently glaring from a distance.

Slightly peeved still maybe.]

[pauses, quirks lip. suddenly changes her playing.

spidermaaaaaaaan]

[you

motherfucker]

...you aren't gonna get me.

I'm just sitting here, playing this guitar! [FRIENDLY NEIGHBORHOOD SPIDERMAN]

[She starts tapping her foot.]

You aren't gonna get me.

What? Don't like my playing? [CATCHES THIEVES JUST LIKE FLIES]

That's whhhhhhyyyy,
Her name is Squirrel Girl.....

I don't even know what I won, but I feel pretty sure I just did.

Nuh uh, you can't prove anything.

[So very desperately trying to keep her lips from curling up.]

You're halfway to having a mental breakdown over a song. And not even a very good one. What part of that isn't winning?

Whoa.

Whoa whoa whoa whoa.

Its an amazing song.

It's mediocre. At best.

Its triumphant and memorable and the best ever.

You are weirdly emotionally attached to this.

That's my baby your mocking there! I nurtured it strong and carefully, making the right tune, selecting the perfect lyrics... It was hard work!

Probably should've paid somebody with musical talent to do that for you!

[BODY DISCOVERED]

I have the powers of both squirrel and girl! That's two different species of musical talent!

I didn't know squirrels had any talents.

You come into my house and you tell me this? Now you come to me, and you say: "Squirrel Girl, squirrels don't have talents."

Edited 2018-01-28 05:25 (UTC)

This isn't your house?

[just. lost on her.]

My metaphorical house. My wheelhouse. My expertise, my know-how, my gosh darn life.

Well, if you're the expert, tell me what musical talents squirrels apparently have!

I'll have you know Chompsky wrote a lovely nursery rhyme for his daughter. Complete masterpiece. One of the best the squirrel world had to offer.

If a nursery rhyme is the height of squirrel culture...

Chompsky was a good father and a wonderful squirrel.

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