At least there's no elevator music...

[thespaceopera]

[At least two weeks have passed since the Drift Fleet passengers woke up on this strange wing of the Marsiva... Some new passengers have even joined the group instead of being Shuffled off to a fleet ship! The large monitor in the central room remains quiet for now, so how is everyone holding up?

Have you been relaxing? Enjoying the Earth media? If you can even remember them, how have Calibrations been treating you? Has anyone started getting a little stir-crazy?

Don't worry... This ship has no shortage of mysteries, and you'll be seeing a few more soon.]


ooc: here's another mingle for the current game event! players can start or continue threads here from any point during the event. the additional setting information is still being postponed due to sickly mods, but y'all are welcome to post additional topcomments for reactions and investigation once it's up!

Comments

[delincuente]

Yep. Completely.

[She pulls off her other headphone, bringing the set to rest around her neck.]

In fact, I didn't even hear that question.

[stefanged]

There wasn't a question to begin with.

[He laughs, setting his book down long enough to look at her.]

I was merely pointing out just how loud Ms. Swift is.

[delincuente]

Hey, she's gotta be loud if she's gonna go up against C.C. Lemonhead and his good friend Jay Ski.

[She would know the actual names of the people who sing Space Jam. But because she's probably already listened to this shit fifteen times, and because she knows how Stefan feels about Queen Swift, she hits the pause button for the time being.]

What are you reading?

[stefanged]

[He wishes he were surprised to learn that she knew, he really does. But when she mentions his book, he glances back at the title.]

Rumi. He was this 15th century Iranian poet. Here, uh... this was one of my favorites.

[Picking up the book again, he skims the chapter until he finds the poem he was reading (and since his copy is in Arabic, the translator's gonna do its magic as he reads out loud):]

When I am with you, we stay up all night.
When you're not here, I can't go to sleep.

Praise God for these two insomnias!
And the difference between them.

The minute I heard my first love story
I started looking for you, not knowing
how blind that was.

Lovers don't finally meet somewhere.
They're in each other all along.

[delincuente]

[Her smile grows, slowly and warmly, throughout the lines, and by the end she's struggling to keep her cheeks from going bright red. She never thought that she'd be one to turn all warm and goofy over a guy reading poetry, but Stef is slowly changing a lot of Alex's perceptions about herself.]

Oh my god, you sap.

[I love it, she means. But he knows that.]

[stefanged]

Hey, you asked.

[He's grinning as he turns the page.]

Rumi doesn't just write love poems, but he had this amazing ability to write things that... well, kinda hit your soul without trying.

[delincuente]

[She pulls herself up into a sitting position, with her knees tucked against her chest.]

My favorite poem was always the Silverstein one about Lazy Jane.

[stefanged]

[Headtilt] I don't think I remember that one too well, but Silverstein was always good.

I liked that one about the guy who asked for everything on his hot dog?

[delincuente]

It was about this girl who was so lazy that she just laid on the ground with her mouth open to wait for it to rain, instead of getting a glass of water. Really spoke to me on a personal level.

[Though, not gonna lie, the hot dog one sounds just like her too.]

[stefanged]

You did spend a whole month on the couch.

[He makes that clicking, disapproving tone with his tongue, only to add,] But you could've been hot dog kid, and well... I can't begrudge it for speaking to you.

[delincuente]

Hey, I never said I wasn't hot dog kid too. I grew up eating half my meals out of street carts.

[stefanged]

How'd that work out for you? [He shifts, so that he's sitting closer to her than before] I mean, I'd eat from street carts whenever I came up to the city...

But I can't say I liked hot dogs much.

[delincuente]

It never really mattered what I was eating, as long as I didn't have to make it. Growing up in a sub shop'll do that to you. Every time you're hungry it's, "Go make a sandwich." Nothing but cold cuts and American cheese everywhere, and you have to actually assemble it.

[She gestures dramatically. Clearly it was a traumatic time in her life.]

So yeah, street vendors were always a total life saver. I could just walk ten feet out the door and grab a pretzel at any given time. That's the beauty of New York.

[stefanged]

[The most traumatic - which is why he's stifling a laugh, even though he knows he shouldn't be laughing. He can't help it! She makes him so happy without trying.]

That you can get salt-laden pretzels and halal gyros all day, every day?

[He finally lets out a laugh,] I hear you. We didn't have a ton of them in Locke, and Mystic Falls was kind of too small, with its six-thousand-something people.

[delincuente]

Oh man, I can't even imagine living outside of the city. There's something peaceful about knowing there's thousands of people awake around you, even if it's the crack of dawn and you can't sleep. You can take ten steps in any direction and have a totally new experience.

[Of course, after so much time away she would probably be completely overwhelmed by it now. She's gotten used to quiet and solitude, rather than noise and bustle.]

[stefanged]

[He can get that sentiment. Stefan's expression softens as he moves closer to her.]

Salvatore was pretty loyal to small town life. He grew up there, and what remains of his family's over there - but I don't know. I liked living in places like Locke and Amman. You knew that the second you walked around, you'd find something to do.

[delincuente]

It kind of makes living in a big metal tube even worse, when you're used to something like that.

[But the bitterness of her words isn't followed through in her eyes.]

Guess the company's not too bad, though.

[stefanged]

Yeah, you could've been stuck with Allen this whole time.

[He nudges her, more gently than usual.] And then where would that have led you?

[delincuente]

Well, I wouldn't have fallen in love with him, that's for sure.

[She finally just tips over to rest against his side.]

[stefanged]

I'd hope not.

[He smiles a little wider, looking down at her like she's the only one in the entire room.] I can't imagine you and Clay fighting over the same guy.

[delincuente]

The same slice of pizza, maybe, but not Allen Walker.

[She reaches up to tap him on the nose. It's kind of adorable.]

[stefanged]

[He wrinkles his nose at her touch, so so tempted to just press his lips against hers and-- and they're in a super public area. Even if he wanted to bend that law of his faith, he's not gonna do it in public.

That raises more questions, and none of them good.]

Even if I make multiple pizzas?

[delincuente]

You underestimate our competitiveness over food.

[She gives him a deep, sagely look.]

[stefanged]

[He shakes his head, like the entire fate of the multiverse rests upon this storied competition....]

May the odds always be in your favor.

[delincuente]

[Breaking back into a smile, she leans up to press a kiss to his cheek.]

Where the hell are we gonna hang out and be embarrassing when we don't have couches anymore? I mean, assuming we're going back to the ships. 'Cause I'll probably go full-on crazy if we don't.