mingle!

[grimpa]

Who: anyone!
When: Day 6, morning
Where: the lounge carriage (or, like, wherever, I'm not your boss)

[What's shakin', heroes? That sure was a trial last night, huh? What's on the agenda this morning-- still exploring, for new folks? Having team talks in light of having two trials'-worth of info on how this stuff is gonna go? Cooking something up in the public kitchen? Taking memories or testing out new powers? Playing with new purchases from the sparks shop? Just hanging out in the lounge? You do you; everyone's gotta find their own path on their magical interdimensional spacetrain journey.]

Comments

[voreaciously]

[She flinches. She' been acting how she's been acting, but she cannot shirk some forms of displeasure so easily.]

No. It really does not.

[she's already dead.]

[crimeson]

You could've died! You could've burned down the train! Why are you so determined to shut me out?!

[voreaciously]

Ah--

[That's right, she was cooking. She, for once, does not mean to deflect or avoid, but sits up and tries to get out of bed as she remembers she had food on, but she stumbles and falls immediately.]

[crimeson]

[tries to catch her

this is immediately proven to be a bad idea by the noise he makes but he overcommits, not letting her hit the floor.]

Care...ful...!

[voreaciously]

Let go of me, I weigh too much!

[crimeson]

You got it!

[carefully, slowly unloading her onto the bed]

[voreaciously]

The stove--did someone turn it off?

[crimeson]

I got it while you were out.

[voreaciously]

[she can relax a little, but not much. That is wasted food, and what if there is a mess.

Unacceptable.

She starts to get up again, ut, more slowly, this time.]

[crimeson]

You literally just collapsed. Stay in bed. What do you want to do?

[voreaciously]

It's fine. I am fine. I need to tidy after myself.

[crimeson]

I'll clean it up. You stay in bed.

[voreaciously]

There is little point in my doing so.

[her throat is dry and pained, like desert heat. and she would know, she's actually been. but she pushes past that discomfort, pausing a moment to speak normally, hiding the agony she feels.]

I am conscious now, everything is fine.

[and the gems are gone.]

[crimeson]

Don't fuck with me, 80H! Just-- fucking rest! Why is it so hard for you to cooperate?!

[voreaciously]

[She closes her eyes a moment in lieu of flinching.]

This body does not require rest, most of the time. It is an indulgence at best and a waste of time at worst.

[crimeson]

Then how the hell are you supposed to get better?!

[voreaciously]

It will resolve on its own.

[crimeson]

Will it? Tell me honestly, because I'm really fucking worried about you.

[voreaciously]

[Worlds away, Breeze's cutting words flash in her mind. Not only her, she has been told by a few people by now, has she not? That people simply cannot turn off their feelings for others.

It is uncomfortable and does not make any sense to her.]

...I do not understand it. I do not matter, so why would it be worrisome? I can still perform. [h...m.]

That is should be the crux of the issue.

[crimeson]

Why are you just-- saying something like you don't matter?! You do matter!

[voreaciously]

You do not know me.

[crimeson]

There's no one who doesn't matter!

[voreaciously]

[mmmmmm, doubt.]

That is naïve, sir. But I suppose that does not matter. I am sure to be fighting fit...eventually.

[crimeson]

[goddess, he can't afford to get distracted by every little snipe she goes for]

So you're just planning to wait until something changes.

[voreaciously]

Knowing when not to act is equally if not more important at times as taking action. It is slow going, but my temperature has begun to decrease.