[Closed] The sweetest summer gift of all

[talesuntold]

Who: After the End Times staff
Where: Floor 9, room 69.
When: 10/19
Rating: PG/PG-13
Summary: Auntie Maggie summons everybody over for dinner and movies.
The Story:

Everyone on the After the End Times staff received a message this morning.

Hello After the End Times staff,

I'm Maggie Garcia, and I've taken over as head of the Fictional department.

I still haven't met all of you, and with our crew as small as it is here in Wonderland, that hardly seems reasonable. Come by floor 9, room 69 this evening for a very informal staff meeting. Introductions, dinner, and a relaxing movie night. I'm currently taking requests for both food and films, though I reserve the right to veto the latter. I have to draw the line somewhere.

See you later, darlings!

--

True to her word, Maggie spent the afternoon cooking. (She likes cooking; why order from the closets what she could make herself?) A meal is laid out honoring any requests she got, and the public half of her room has its usual assortment of comfortable antique chairs and couches, plus a projector screen set up for movies once they're done eating and talking.

She also has a popcorn maker and plenty of ammunition for it. No movie night is complete without popcorn.

((Feel free to use this post as a mingle. Post top levels, tag around, etc! If anyone wants to respond to Maggie's initial message, you're also welcome to do that, just specify in the subject line.))

Comments

tim wright | ota

[postictal]

[He is...not entirely sure why he's here, to be honest. He can't even call it business, because he's not the one with the job with Shaun. Just an awkward history with fifty percent of the staff, a complete lack of even basic knowledge in regards to the other fifty percent, and a promise to facilitate an interview with the erstwhile Red Queen as promised.]

[Maybe Alphys will be here. He should've checked up on her sooner, honestly. Her anxiety practically ran parallel to and even eclipsed Jay's at times, which was a feat unto itself.]

[He's equally as standoffish as one Georgia Mason, though less out of any kind of surly solidarity than simply not being one for the social scene. Instead, he spends most of his time lurking at the fringes of the room, occasionally gravitating toward people he knows - and, even more occasionally, people he doesn't. One might occasionally catch him slipping a hand into his pocket to fiddle with a packet of cigarettes before thrusting them out of sight again; it'd probably be rude to be caught smoking here, and it's not like he's even craving it. He just doesn't know what else to do with himself.]

[choosetruth]

[Georgia eventually catches his eye and gives him a nod, then raises her eyebrow at his hand in his pocket.] Do you have any idea how lame it would be to waste one of your deaths on lung cancer?

[postictal]

It's not my fault I was born a couple decades too early. [He smoked in her universe too, but at least cancer wasn't a problem there. One of the few things that wasn't a goddamn problem.]

[All things considered, he thinks he'll take the cancer threat over the zombie one.]

You have any idea how hard it is to quit when you're surrounded by closets that give you whatever you ask for?

[choosetruth]

Bet they'd give you nicotine patches too. [She raises an eyebrow.] It wouldn't be a bad idea to try. Even without the cancer, you do need to get better at running.

[postictal]

My lungs are screwed no matter what I do with them.

[Benefits of that kind of perpetual illness - one he's never not had.]

[choosetruth]

[Georgia doesn't look moved. She remembers his perpetual illness. As someone who lived with chronic migraines until she got a brand new, factory fresh body, she sympathizes. That doesn't mean she agrees.]

You don't have to actively try and make them worse.

[postictal]

[He's just feeding her excuses at this point, he knows, but he can't shake the feeling that if he ventured that it's one part survival and two parts anxiety, that'd just be a point of contention. Or, possibly, mockery.]

We all die someday.

[choosetruth]

Yes, I know this from experience. Remember?

[We all die someday and then before you know it you're waking up in a brand new body in a lab. Okay, maybe that second part isn't a we all thing.]

I'd just rather keep it later rather than sooner. I don't like it when people die. Even if it's not permanent.

[postictal]

[See, she's trying to twist this like this is a personal affront to her, but then Tim does an odd thing. One side of his mouth twists upward, forming into something approaching a raw, razor-edged smirk.]'

You're worried about me.

[choosetruth]

[Wow what the fuck just calling her out like that. She scowls at him and fights the urge to pull out her sunglasses. As much as she hates not knowing what her eyes might be giving away, it would be far, far too obvious to pull them out right now.]

Stop being so killable and I won't have to.

[postictal]

[He has to snort at that, albeit faintly. Stop being so killable. Almost painfully, he has to fight away the thought that Alex would argue furiously to the contrary.]

Hey, haven't died yet. [Even if they all know it's only a matter of time. It always is, with him.] For someone so killable, I'm kinda taking my time, huh?

[choosetruth]

[She squints at him.] Didn't you drown?

[postictal]

I guess, yeah. Wasn't exactly out for the full twenty-four hours, though.

[Note exactly sure what that means, but he's not about to die just to find out. He could, he supposes - it's not the act of dying itself that would disturb him, most likely. He just knows a lot of people who'd yell at him for it. Miraculously.]

[choosetruth]

Just because it didn't count for Wonderland doesn't mean it didn't count as dying. Though yes, I am pretty sure it didn't count for Wonderland.

[postictal]

You can’t blame my lungs for that one.

[Or she could, but then she’d have to blame everyone else’s on top of it. For not being aquatic.]

[choosetruth]

No, but I know you're averse to weapons. That means you have to be good at getting the fuck away from whatever's attacking you.

[postictal]

Because me with a weapon is a bad idea for everyone.

[She knows that, and he knows she knows that. He doesn't even pair it with a Significant Look, because that might just raise questions from the particularly observant around here, and he doesn't know how close George is with her staff. Probably, though he's just guessing here, not as close as she is with Shaun.]

[He hopes.]

I mean...would that even work here? It's not like time really moves. Or...like we change a whole lot unless it's an event.

[choosetruth]

I'm aware. Which is why I'm suggesting options that don't involve weapons.

[She raises an eyebrow, crossing her arms and cocking her head to the side.]

You saw me right after I arrived the second time. Do I look exactly the same?

[She's worked very hard to get herself back into a place where she's not going to blow away in a stiff wind. Working out, eating lots of protein... she'll never be exactly what she was, but at least she can try and get a little closer than she had been.]

[postictal]

So...what? Just enroll in a twelve step program and a membership with Wonderland Gym LTD?

[He’s not ready to relinquish his vice just yet. It still feels, at times, like the one friend that’s yet to let him down. God, that’s really sick, isn’t it? It’s probably sick.]

[choosetruth]

Something like that. [She shrugs a shoulder.] I don't know much about quitting smoking for obvious reasons. But I do know where the gym is. Though hell, even just running up and down the stairs is an effective workout.

[There are a lot of stairs.]

[postictal]

Which I kind of have to do anyway. Regularly.

[He lives on the sixth floor, like someone who doesn't make great choices. Like someone who picked a room that corresponded with his birthday because he didn't trust himself to be able to remember it otherwise. Like someone who didn't think about how difficult it might be to climb five flights of stairs while injured.]

[choosetruth]

[She nods encouragingly.] See? You're already halfway there.

[postictal]

[His tone is appropriately dry.]

Well, there you go. Problem solved. Being solved, anyway. [Let Him Smoke, George.]

[choosetruth]

Yes, which is why you're in perfect shape after being here for so long.

[COME ON TIM.]

[postictal]

I'll think about it. [It's more exasperated than genuinely frustrated, but what the hell else is gonna get her to stop harassing him about it?] Good enough?