Junk Food Party

[Rlyeh]

R'lyeh blinks, slow and long as everyone starts. And. and. She didn't. She thought. She.

Putting her plate down. She didn't want to break it, or topple over the food on it onto the floor. She'd still eat it, but it might messupstain Roshon-Mechanic-Friend's floor and that wasn't something R'lyeh wanted. And curls inky fingers into the layer of denim covering her legs, twisting the material between them.

"I know a lot of Answers." she admits, and it feels like confession. "But they always depend on the Question." she amends, looking at her hands, and the plate and - "I-She-The-Before-Me....wasn't good." she says, staring at the TV, and all she sees is mess of sound and colour and absorbs none of it. "Doing stupid things to...I don't know. Be pretty, popular. Impressive?" a sadness clouds around her, "....I don't really remember. Not well-clear-mine." she take another piece of cheese and nibbles. "Sacramento is very far away from New York." blinking, slow and long, "It just took me a...while to get here." A bittersweet sort of smile appears. "Not as interesting for fast paced as your stories. So. Um." she swallows, looking at the others now, instead of around them. "Riots and fast-speed-quick and shooting cars...! Seems very-much-better-much-more-much then what I know-been-experienced."

[Roshon]

"Big Apple, huh?" Roshon asked, eyebrows raising as she looked at R'lyeh. "Yeah, would take a while to cross a continent without four wheels to help you along."

Roshon smiled then, and reached over to give Circe a gentle shove.

"And you're from fuckin' Jersey. Couple of East Coaster bitches over here. All up in my house. That's what I was afraid of," she explained, meeting the Colonel's eyes for just a moment before laughter shook her shoulders and she broke off into a small giggle fit.

"Getting close to people, I mean," Roshon finally managed. "Putting down roots means getting networked. Becoming part of the forest. Means that, whatever hurts the forest, is gonna hurt you. It's scary shit. I mean, now I have to imagine Queen Blue wearing braces while she codes her Myspace page and Cousin Vito watches Scarface with the speakers blasting in the background. And R'lyeh probably went to the Met Gala after doing some good ol fashioned hyper violence the night before. And even if none of that is true, which it's not, I know, it's like, now I gotta care about that. Hard enough just to care about me."

Roshon paused just long enough to light another blunt.

"Scary shit," she repeated on the exhale.

[Circe]

Circe nods in understanding when R'lyeh mentions stupid acts. She'd just admitted to antagonizing a Keeper after it gave her an own. Well, sort of. Circe glossed over a bit of her backstory. And seems she the slick girl wasn't that thrilled about their exciting stories. "Oh, yer plenty slick R'lyeh. I'm sure ya've had plenty of interesting stories."


When Roshon says 'fuckin' Jersey' Circe throws up rocker hand sign in response, then joins in the laughter, "East Coast represent!"


"Eh, I was an 80s brat," Circe replies when Myspace is brought up. She doesn't object to Scarface. As for the the closeness and vulnerability talk from Roshon, that brought Circe down. She was quite familiar with that experience, given the seesawing Summer numbers. "I hear ya Roshon," she nods and takes a drink, "I've lead a full Court ta being the solo Summer and back at least twice in this town," more alcohol past her blue lips? Oh yes. "Easier if yer covering fer others who have moved onwards. Being the rearguard, but still scary ta lose 'em. Nothing a little rage can't boil away inta killing bastards that have it coming." She swirls her cup, "Course, we seem ta have run out of the mangy wolves ta hunt recently. Maybe I should plan ta try Paul Hogan style fishing in the Hedge."


That made her crack a smile, "I'd have a blast. Also, I may be pun-ishing the world as a coping mechanism."

[Colonel Worm]

Everybody's got a bad word for their...former selves it seems. Worm wonders if any of them have done things as horrifying as ol' Jungle Ozzy. The villages burned, the right-wing death squads armed, the cocaine plantations defended...All in the name of flag and country. For a minute, he can smell the smoke, hear the screams, the sound of banana clips being emptied into the tree line...

Let's not go there... Nope. there are better things to talk about.

"I mean, who wasn't stupid, or arrogant, or completely worthless?" Worm says to Circe and R'lyeh. "None of us knew what was coming. And the whole being-kidnapped-and-taken-to-another-world-where-you're-tortured-for-no-reason thing tends to be an eye-opener, right?" A big drag off his joint, speaks as he exhales: "Gotta cut ourselves some slack, right?" That's Worm's whole thing: try to practice self-forgiveness and do what can be done to make up for the rotten shit.

White-with-white eyes find Roshon, studying her. "Yeah, I can see that. It's scary, being vulnerable or whatever. But I always thought being on your own was worse. Especially...after." He pauses, considering his next words carefully: "I mean, the thing that freaks me out about getting too close is that I might fuck up, you know? Get somebody hurt."

[Rlyeh]

"Met-Gala-yes-in-the-Before-" she gulps out in a memory. Standing invitation, team of designers, stylists, hairs, nails, makeup. Wearing an ensemble worth more then this entire house, and all the cars everyone came in with. The Drowned Fox gasps, it's a punched out sound. Memory cycling of Before-and-slipping-into-During -

- shoutingcrying
flashinglights
- hernamelitup-up-up
"whosyourfashionicon?"
daddysdisgustinggrossrichJer-
likeandsubcribelovelies! -
goingdeeperdarkeraway
upyournosedownmythroatinmylungs
burningburningburning
can'tbreathecan'tbreathe-

Blinking into the After. She shudders. She wipes the back of her hands over her eyes. She doesn't know if she was crying but she might have been. Things-she-feels hot-tight-sore. "No we can't." she says to Colonel Worm before she has time to think and remember where she is and who she's with. "If we do we might Go Back. If we don't remember and make sure we're not - we could....." voice tight and high, with shoulders to match, legs tucked in and tight against her torso, seemingly unable to voice where her mind has raced. She shakes her head, lost in her memories, she doesn't react to her oil-for-hair spills and spatters around her. "I'm rotten and ruin and gross-bad-wrong. I can't get close. I don't wanna stain anybody..."
she breathes out, not really looking at anything but her knees. Not really thinking she's in front of people, or that she said it out loud.

[Roshon]

If Roshon had been sober, Circe's puns would have been worthy of the most over-dramatic eye roll that she could summon, but Roshon wasn't sober, which meant she was reduced to snickering and was about 2 seconds away from a full giggle fit. Unfortunately, the Colonel also sprinkled some humor into his reassurance, and so the giggle fit was imminent. The whole "tortured for no reason" thing probably wasn't supposed to be funny, but in the moment, it so fucking was. She was definitely high by that point, hence the quick shift into the laugh attack, but there was still a morbid current that she could feel. That was one of the strange things about weed. On the surface, it made things so much better, but it never really touched what was underneath.

So, she was able to calm the giggles down enough to register what the Colonel was saying.

"Got that killer instinct, huh, Colonel? Or you talking about the other kind of hurt? The, like, Johnny Cash covering Nine Inch Nails kind?"

Roshon was guessing the latter. Best to be sure, though. Assumptions, and all that.

And then R'lyeh piped up from her place on the couch again, and Roshon couldn't help but laugh.

"Holy fuck, I was right! We've got Met Gala royalty here! One for two!" she cackled, heading back into the land of giggles. It wasn't really her fault, though. There was a literal comedy playing on the TV, and she was high, and like, she hadn't planned this to be a therapy sesh, yeah?

Yeah, she'd feel bad later, but for now she was gonna cut herself some slack.

[Circe]

Well, Roshon has cracked. That was good. Her amusement and smiles at it were broken by the whole mood killing thing.


"True Worm, but I was a straight up dumbass when I got taken," Circe just sighed. She couldn't really argue with that. The Johnny Cash reference was something she wasn't really sure. "Well, I think those two options are better then the," Circe changes her tone to deeper, "Oh yeah step on me harder," then back to normal, "Oh ho ho ho!" Then she sighs, "Those guys are boring ta interrogate."


R'lyeh's gasp and zoning out got her attention and she gave a worried look to R'lyeh.


"Oh, fuck that girl," Circe assures her, "I've been covered in oil, grease, engine fluids, and literal shit. You. Are. Not. Gross. Ya ain't gonna stain me." She tries to at any rate, "I'll straight up hug ya fer the rest of the night ta prove it if ya want. And cazzo anyone who says ya are. Or just ask me ta do that. I'm Summer. It is what I do."


And then the show did a funny. "Well, that is a bit of mood whiplash." It was too dour. "Guess the blunts are an upper fer everyone. But me? Well," Circe tries her best to lighten the mood.

failure

Date	Action	Roll	Result
2021-11-16 23:08:31	Circe rolls 2 to Presence -1 expression (10 Again)	7, 3	failure

And starts to, rather poorly, sing, "When I taste tequila, babies I still see all of ya, cutting up blunts on the floor, same one ya lit up before, trying ta get as high as Colorado."

Humiliation to entertain others? Circe was fine with that to some degrees.

[Colonel Worm]

Fox-girl's is glitching the fuck out and she's not even stoned! Worm thinks, his eyes on R'lyeh. He feels for the kid. Can't blame her, really. Who could? He'd seen the Red Lords. He'd been on the Red Fields. He'd fought their pointless Red Wars. Who knows what she's been through. The specifics of her torture.

The Colonel sits up, joint hanging from his lips. "Ain't going back. Nobody's going back. Ever. You hear?" His voice is firm, but not angry. Rather, it's touched by a deep conviction. All of the dreamy clouds of Bud are cleared from his head. "I'll die before that happens. To me or to you. That's a fucking promise. Take it to the bank," he says, summoning all of his strength, all of his belief, in that fact. He's got no problem making that promise to R'lyeh. It's that promise that makes him a Summer. That makes him more than just a killer.

Talk tough, 1 success

Date	Action	Roll	Result
2021-11-18 14:00:44	Colonel Worm rolls 5 to Pres + Express	4, 2, 10, 6, 7	1 success

His attention moves to the Summer Monarch. He gives her a nod, "Yeah, Circe--give the girl a squeeze why don't you. No reason to be shy," he says it warmly. We've gotta get this kid out of her shell.

Back to Roshon: "Wouldn't be much of a killer without the instinct," he replies, arching a brow. "No tolerance for collateral damage anymore is the thing. I got my war, I'm gonna fight it. Just don't want anybody to die that doesn't deserve to die."

He extracts a beer from his pocket and cracks it open, taking a very long swig. Almost spits it out when Circe starts singing.

"God damn, woman! You trying to make me choke on my brew??" He says it with a grin, clearly joking. And then bursts into song himself (to the tune of En Vogue's 'Free Your Mind'):

"Drink you boooozeee, tip it up and swallow / Get really high, eat a burrito!"

Sing! 4 successes

Date	Action	Roll	Result
2021-11-18 14:10:51	Colonel Worm rolls 5 to Pres + Express	10, 9, 9, 10, 6	4 successes

The lyrics are extremely stupid, but his voice sounds good. 100% Worm style.

[Rlyeh]

It take R'lyeh a long moment to remember to breathe. In that instance between Roshon-Mechanic-friend light-airy-laughter and the Summers, Mantle's warm that there and not pull-pull-pulling away. Blinking up and around and - her tail pulls close, wrapping around her legs. Ears perks and obviously listening, and. She's just.

"Don't touch me!" she barks out, zeroing in on Colonel Worm's call to get the fox a hug. "You're just saying that!" again directed at the Summers, more the Colonel then his Queen. "You have to just be saying that! It's because I'm Here and not There right? I'm Wyrdstone-approved, I'm a Freeholder. It can't be. It can't be that I'm me." she grits out, a snarl covering her lips. Chest heaving, eyes darting.

"Why are you nice?" she asks, energy spent from her outburst. Voice croaky and rough. "No one is nice to me. Not a one since I got Back. And even Before. I think. I was bright-shiny-rich, and everyone wanted. Something. Now I'm gross-bad-wrong and no one wants anything. So there's no reason to be nice." she says, she explains, she asks.

1 success

Date	Action	Roll	Result
2021-11-19 13:15:06	Rlyeh rolls 4 to resolve + composure (10 Again)	9, 4, 2, 7	1 success

[Roshon]

There was a moment when Roshon thought the night would evolve into hugs and laughter, she'd grab her guitar, and then they'd be visited by a fuckin' rainbow unicorn, and oh, how magical would that be?

But that was just wishful thinking, and soon the Penzoil Princess was freaking out again. Like, holy fuck, but Roshon was too high for this shit. Weed anxiety was its own special delight, and with all the noise, and the shouting, and the emotions, the anxiety was starting to ramp up.

"Ok, that's enough science theater mystery," Roshon mumbled, flopping down onto her stomach and crawling over towards the outlet to just unplug the TV itself. She could have just walked over, or found the remote, but it was more comfortable to just crawl. It was her (rental) house, dammit! She could be gecko her way wherever she wanted!

Speaking of, did she have any gecko in her? Probably should have. Could have regenerated like a motherfucker!

The TV fell silent with a soft crackle, the screen winking into a black mirror reflecting their silhouettes back at them. Except Roshon, since she was still on the floor. Though, after a moment, she crawled back over to where she'd left her plate and her blunt.

"Already tried the hugging thing, by the way. Didn't stick," Roshon said as an aside to the others before she turned her tiger eyes on the woman huddled up on her couch.

"Like, fuck, R'lyeh, what do you want us to do, throw steak tips at you? Or maybe you and the Colonel could play a rousing game of 'stop hitting yourself'? That what you want, huh? Can't just accept that, like, you're a person? That we all deserve external love and support and shit? We gotta watch the Good Place and Ted Lasso now?"

It was at that point that Roshon realized she probably watched way too much TV, but she had a lot of time, and a lot of weed, and one thing had kinda lead to another. Plus, on the upside, she'd pretty much watched everything she wanted to, which meant she had to invest in some projects, like the C3 Stingray sitting in the garage. But, later, yeah.