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Who: Everybody who hates this moon! And a few that don't!
Broadcast: Nope
Action: The Good Ship Iskaulit
When: Throughout the Toxic Moon event

[Y'all, Misty can't be the only one who hates this place, so let's all gather on the Iskaulit, safe from all that dark and rot down on the polluted moon and have ourselves a good time!

(Or at least, a pollution-free time).

A list of establishments on the Iskaulit can be found here!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

It's so unfair when you're right about the flip flopping, but also deeply, deeply wrong about the condiment.

Well if it's any consolation, I'm more of a pizza and Thai man anyway.

I love pizza. Thai is good too. [Thank you for not saying Indian. No more Reid coincidences.] The hotdog thing is more of a Chicago birthright.

See, there you go. National City is all about the pizza.

What's the crust like?

Not Chicago style - thin and crispy.

Are you ready for a very important secret? [She leans in a bit.] I actually like thin and crispy better. I get really excited about Chicago-style just because, you know, home. [And it was destroyed...twice.] And I do like it, but I'd actually rather have the other.

[ that makes him smile ]

I think we'll be alright. [ they can push through condiment-gate with the power of pizza ]

That's a relief. So I can top mentally writing my "Dear Winn" letter? [She needs to stop making these jokes, doesn't she? Especially when being left is the thing that does scare her.]

I would -- prefer that.

[ it scares him too. as they've discussed, he's not exactly swimming in friends, and even if he were - kitty is special to him. even joking about it is kind of beyond his comfort zone. ]

[She knows it's making him a little nervous and she knows she should stop but it's a really bad system for pumping the breaks a little. Not a fair one to him. She doesn't want things to go too fast...emotionally. Physically, sure. It's her heart that's fragile, not her body.]

Anything for you.

Actually, I really should pay you back somehow for the costume.

[ he probably wouldn't know what to do with someone who was wholly fair to him anyway. ]

You don't need to do anything - you're helping out with project Plato, and really I -- like doing it.

I like doing it too. [And just spending time with him like this.]

Are you sure there's nothing else I can do?

I'm sure there's a lot more you can do - I'm just...saying you don't have to pay me back.

[ he likes spending time with her like this too. ]

I know I don't have to, but I'll come up with something. [Something cute, not something sexual. That would be a creepy precedent to start.]

[ he wouldn't complain, but yes it would be. ]

Refill? [ he offers to take her glass, because something he can do for her is so much more natural to him than something she can do for him. ]

[There can be sexual stuff! Just not...in payment.]

Sure. Thanks. Oh! See if they have any snacks. Too much talking food. Now I'm hungry.

You got it.

[ he heads back to the bar and comes back with a refill for each of them - and what passes for space snacks. ]

Well, I think we can definitely agree that whatever they serve in Chicago and what they serve in National city -- would both kick this stuff's ass.

[ he sits back down ] But they had something.

[She laughs and reaches for some unidentified snack objects.] You're the best. [She eats one.] These are not the best, but I've definitely had worse. [She takes the wafers that seems like they are supposed to be chips or pretzels or possible cardboard and starts phasing them into each other like it's a craft project—a superpowered craft project.]

You're easy to impress, I like it. [ he laughs and watches her with obvious interest. ]

Doesn't make it look any more edible.

[ he points out. not that it matters, and he's enjoying himself so he doesn't really care, but it's looking more like art than food, and not in the artistic-chefy way. ]

It's not less edible. Aaaaaaand... [Putting the final piece in place before holding it up proudly.] It's a horse! [It looks very little like a horse.]

[ he squints. ]

Maybe after a few more of these -- [ raising his glass ]

Hey! [But she laughs and tries to set the pony on it's legs to stand on the table. It takes some careful balancing, but she manages it.] I think you're a pretty horse, Marvin. [Looking back at Winn.] The horse's name is Marvin. Marvin the horse the third.

What happened to the first two?

[ probably the wrong question for the pair of them, but he's drinking ]

Winn. [Serious, but in a way where she's still obviously kidding.] We don't speak of the first two Marvins.