And Some Nights I'm Scared You'll Forget Me Again

[spontaneouscombustion]

Who: Pinkie Pie and anyone else at various levels of DONE with the Atroma.
Broadcast: Heck yes! Spread ALL the salt!
Action: Iskaulit
When: Post-shuffle

[This is the fourth time in the last five shuffles that Pinkie's lost crew mates. Qing, Robin, Poe, and now Finn were gone home, and there was no way to tell if they'd ever come back or if they'd keep any memory of this place and the people they'd met, the friendships and relationships they've made, the adventures they've had. Whether they'd remember her ever again. Whether she'd forget all this too when she went back home.

After this fourth stab in the heart, though, there was less raw pain and more anger. WAY more anger. Mostly at the stupid Atroma and their stupid fake-smiley-ness and their not letting people remember things or even say GOODBYE! So it's time for some revenge, Pinkie Pie Style.]

I'm throwing a party for anybody that's lost somebody in these shuffle things, even if they've been gone for a while. Or anybody who doesn't like the Atroma. Or just needs a good time. It's on the Iskaulit, FAR AWAY from the Marsiva's party room. I'm a little low on actual not-gel snacks at the moment, but I've got plenty of salt, and you can bring your own snacks and stuff if you want.

[It won't be Pinkie's usual extravaganzas, but there's some out-of-the-way music, card-making supplies, and some candles to set up a memorial alter. There's also a line of snack tables, with lots of room for contributions. Pinkie's own fare is honor of her absent crew mates: veggie pot stickers for Qing, coffee for Robin, nachos slathered with a BURNING hot sauce for Poe, and bright blue melon-flavored milkshakes for Finn. And yes, there's actually salt formed into a huge block, as well as shakers for adding salt to your drink. Because ponies.]

Comments

[pain_train]

Whis--I mean Doctor! [God, this is hard. She misses her friends a lot.] Of course! Sharing makes everything better.

What do you like?

[notanoptimist]

[He's still not sure how he feels about her mistaking him for someone else, or nearly calling him by a name that isn't it. So he ignores it.

He picks up one of the no-label bottles and sets it on the table between them.]

Let's start here.

[pain_train]

[If you only knew about your dystopian face and name twin, Dr. McCoy...]

I like how you think.

[She puts them both a generous glass full.] You adjusting okay?

[notanoptimist]

[That drink doesn't look so terrible; just a smoky brown liquor you'd find in any bar in any world, really. That's no guarantee, though.]

Well enough. [He takes the glass, eyes it a bit.] I'm used to space, so that helps.

[He lifts the glass.] Shall we?

[pain_train]

Space is so cool, though! I never thought I'd get to see it, and now I get to be on a space ship all the time. It's so exciting.

[She raises her glass as well.] Gan bei!

[notanoptimist]

[Exciting's one word for it.]

Cheers.

[And a nice taste... and, wow, that's strong. He huffs, clears his throat.] That's a mouthful.

[pain_train]

Great huh? I was gonna buy that bottle from someone, and then he didn't want to sell it to me, so I headbutted him and he sold it to me!

[That's called haggling, right.]

I've got another bottle somewhere that like... tastes like pink.

[notanoptimist]

Well. That's one way to do it. [Maybe he's been haggling wrong his whole life. Should just be headbutting people into submission. Maybe he'll try it on Jim next time he gets int trouble.].

The hell does pink taste like?

[pain_train]

Headbutting solves a lot more problems than people realize.

[She digs through the bottles until she comes up with one that's had its label ripped off. The liquid inside is... pink-ish. Perhaps not as pink as expected. She pours Bones a generous shot.]

It's the kind of thing you have to find out for yourself, silly.

[notanoptimist]

[Now that is lovely and pink. He picks up the glass, holds it up, and downs the whole damn thing without so much as hesitating.

It takes a moment before he answers.] I like pink. Pink is a good taste.

[pain_train]

Pink is the best! [Says the woman who actually has bright pink hair.] See, you know what's good.

[Have a refill. And she fills her own glass too.] This is another good part of my back being unfucked. I'm allowed to drink again!

[notanoptimist]

[Pink is awesome. He likes pink.] If I didn't know what's good, I'd be a sad excuse for a human being.

[He raises the recently filled glass.] To your back being unfucked.

[pain_train]

Lots of people don't though! People who are full of hurfdurf.

[She raises her glass as well, grinning.] To being able to do all the fun stuff again!

[notanoptimist]

Full of hurfdurf. Now that's not an expression I've never heard before. [But he's gonna remember that.]

[pain_train]

So like. Imagine someone who really likes ice cream and wants some ice cream, but like ice cream is all soft and shit because everyone totally knows only emotional wimpy people eat ice cream. So ice cream would totally make your dick fall off in front of everyone if you bought it but you want some, so instead you buy ice cream for your friend and then eat all of hers newscaster then you can totally pretend it's not yours.

[Drink.]

That's hurfdurf.