theairlock | May You Always Be Satisfied

Entry tags:

!round 3,
!week 4

May You Always Be Satisfied

[The invitations were sent out around mid-afternoon, each one individually addressed on the fanciest paper Varric could dig up in the arts and crafts room. The handwriting on it is crisp and legible, written by the type of hand who spent most of his life writing for others to read.]

We don't know what tomorrow will bring, so celebrate every moment you have with those you care about. Do so by joining me for a banquet at 7 p.m. Food will be provided, but budding chefs are welcome to bring their own dishes.

-Varric

[Everyone receives an invitation, most of which are taped onto their respective doors. Two go beneath Price's door -- one during Blaze's hours, the other during the doctor's own.

When seven comes along, the smell of food wafting from the mess hall would serve as a secondary invitation, for those who might have missed the first. Some of the tables have been moved along a wall, enough to house a decently sized feast and to accommodate the aforementioned extra dishes. The food ranged from roasted something-or-other (Varric didn't ask questions, simply cooked and seasoned it like poultry), his trademark stew, salad and veggie trays, and even some fresh baked bread.

The rest of the tables had been moved to form a long table, enough to fit the remaining inmates and their superiors. Each person has an assigned seat, though you're more than welcome to get up and mill about with one another.Though the trays were stacked near the food, glasses were laid out and filled with the closest substance Varric could find to a good toasting wine.

Hope you like Spape Juice.

Most notable is the backdrop to the table. The names of those they'd lost along the way had been reprinted and hung with care. Everyone was invited, after all.]

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[Once Varric has figured everyone has arrived, he holds up his own drink and clears his throat.]

I think the good doctor had a good idea, making us say good things about each other. Lucky for you, I'm not going to make you compliment the people next to you.

But if you want to, maybe say some good things about the people you care for. We're in this together -- allies for the time being. Sometimes we need to be reminded of that.

[Varric himself would be shuffling around throughout the get-together. In between bouts of conversation and eating, he moved around the table, checking in on anyone. Drinks would be refilled, plates grabbed and loaded up with more food.]

Eat up. Gotta have energy for whatever comes next.

[He'd tried to shake up the seating, but he did have concerns for a few people. Anyone who might look the slightest bit uncomfortable were approached and spoken to softly.]

You doing alright? If you need to, you can take my seat.

[Eventually, though, he made his way to the head of the table near where Blaze's seat was meant to be. Once more he cleared his throat, though when he spoke this time, there was something clearly different. Where his voice had been light and casual before, it now took on a tone of intensity. It was the voice of a storyteller, and with this voice he crafted a sharp narrative for everyone to hear.

And if Blaze had made it by this time? Varric didn't once take his gaze off of the man.]

[Pyrrha was delighted to hear that Varric was doing this. Despite their recent problems, and certain people, the idea of them staying together and trying to keep stable was a good idea... There was just one, very visible problem, noticeable as she arrives with a familiar, robotic parrot stuck to her shoulder.

Not sitting on it, stuck.

The rest of the meal goes as politely as Pyrrha can manage. She even puts on a smile as she tries to keep her utensils in order, though anyone will see them slowly edging towards her. Keep an eye on your own utensils, or other metal items as you pass her. They suddenly might not be there anymore.]

Enjoying... the party...?

[But eventually, everything has to break. Pyrrha's point comes when she gets near the memorial and one of the license plates falls to the floor and inches towards her. At that point, Pyrrha can only utter a small "I'm sorry" and quickly excuses herself from the banquet.]

[Varric had been on approach -- having witnessed enough silverware going flying to really take notice of Pyrrha -- when the license plate hits the ground. The expression on her face said enough, but the way she quickly abandoned the room sealed the deal.

The dwarf was quick to steal after her -- the party could go on without him for a short while.]

Red -- Pyrrha wait.

I didn't mean-

[She finally stops, and turns as they basically reach the cell area. A fork still sticks to Pyrrha's arm, a spoon on her head. She is not taking this well.]

I'm ruining your banquet.

[Mozu brought some vegetarian chowder and some space peach pudding, so there's that if you're not interested in Varric's fare. I mean. You should be. But her food is also always pretty fucking delicious, so.

Anyway. She's... kind of awkwardly and quietly eating Varric and others' offerings, considering the seating arrangements. Max is great! ...Akande is mildly terrifying! Blaze, if he shows up, is extremely terrifying! She won't be leaving her seat, necessarily, because she doesn't want to subject anyone else to her particular position, but she is clearly a little. Um. Yes.]

[It's fine, Mozu, it's fine. He is, for the record, pointedly avoiding anything she brought. She did, after all, say he didn't get any more of her cooking and he's clearly 'allowing' her to keep that without challenge.

Hell, one might go so far as to say he's all but ignoring her. There's acknowledgement, but he's avoiding interaction beyond simple civility unless she initiates it.]

Pyrrha... [Varric shook his head, letting out a soft laugh as he did. He had to be careful, not wanting his mirth to come off as patronizing, but also to show that he wasn't so wrapped up in the aesthetics of it all.]

Last time I had a big party with my friends, my best friend puked on my shoes and two others got into a big political debate. [Thanks, Anders and Fenris.] Most of my gatherings end up with someone naked and someone else passed out drunk.

Being screwed with like this? [He shifted closer, attempting to wrench the fork from her arm.] That's not your fault, and I'm not going to blame you for it.

[This kind of reminds Leon of a glorified meal in the cafeteria. Why does this exist?]

[Also, did Varric have to put him right next to the weird drunken scientist? That is waaay too creepy, so he gently elbows Noctis to get his attention. And whisper.]

Psst. Hey. Wanna trade seats?

[Later on, he stares longingly at all the names printed on the table. They lost that many people? Yikes... Almost makes him wonder why he's not among those names... No, he has to stay strong. If he's truly been given a second chance at life, he's gotta cherish it. For now.]

[That sure is a robot bird stuck on your shoulder pal.]

Uh... You need help getting that off?

Sure.

[ I mean, why not. Noctis doesn't have an issue with Rick, even if he's a little...

... Anyway, he'll switch seats with Leon. ]

[ It's Thursday, and Noctis feels more wary than ever. There aren't a lot of them left, and it shows. They're down less than half, and it pains him deeply. All those lives lost...

He stands, and raises his glass. ]

So, I'm not... really good at this stuff. [ The four of us around a campfire.

How long's it been? ]

But for everyone here, I'll give it my best. We've been through a lot. Way more than anyone anywhere should go through. It's... It should have torn us apart. It nearly did, but everyone's here, because in the end, what we all want is to get out of here. I just hope... [ And if Blaze is here, he looks directly at him as he says, ] ... that doesn't mean we lose anyone else to this sick game.

[ There's a lot more he could say. But he's not sure how to put it into words. He looks around the table. At Akande, who'd given him a hand and a punch to get him to his senses. At Rick, who's been a steady constant, even if that doesn't jive with a lot of people. At Leon, who against all odds, has survived this long even with what happened to him at Hope's Peak. CT, who he doesn't know as well as the others, but who'd made him laugh with an attempt at a joke. At Soma, who in spite of everything, has managed to keep himself together, even if he doesn't believe it. At Varric, who's listened to him after every damned memory, who's been a comrade and a friend and a hell of a storyteller. At Will, who's been a friend and edges ever closer to a brother, who's always so reliable during those trials. Pyrrha, who has every right to keep her head down and not come to this thing--but she's here, and he admires her for her strength. Fukawa, looking almost radiant in her newfound confidence, who managed to keep him going with a reassurance or several. Max, who's been through too much for someone her age, but has stayed a bright spot in everyone's lives and days here, who wants nothing more than to help those she loves. At Mozu, who too has been through so much, and who's so young but understands the power of a kind word and a good meal.

Looking at them all, Noctis wants just one thing: To protect them. Get them out. ]

You guys... have been the best thing about this place.

[ Huh. You spit it out. ]

[Akande's been to enough Dinners to be able to have a good sense of when someone's talking out of their ass as opposed to believing what they say. And Noctis...

Well.

He takes a sip of his spape juice, brow furrowed and face clouded with an unreadable emotion.]

[ For some reason, CT's mysterious "gift" this week had been a plate of ridiculous-looking nachos. She's not a cook, but she happily brings the nachos along with her to the banquet, in the hope that someone else might actually enjoy them.

She looks a little wary at the prospect of assigned seats, then relieved when she discovers she's on the opposite end of the table from Akande. She listens raptly to Varric's story, smiling a little when he mentions her name, and nods in greeting to him and a few others before turning her attention to the food. There's a lot to choose from. ]

[...wow. she's... kind of surprised. um.

...

she... should probably make conversation, huh.]

So. Varric's a pretty good cook, isn't he?

[Soma and CT have never really spoken, so finding himself sitting between her and Price is awkward. She's seemed distant, often temperamental and unfriendly, as if she didn't need camaraderie with most of the other inmates. But now it's not like Soma has anything to offer in the way of support, not when his own confidence is badly damaged. A few people have been kind and accepting to him since Sunday, but he knows not everyone will trust him. He's pretty sure someone might come after him, thinking he's the shapeshifter Blaze hates so much.

At therapy on Tuesday, he had a makeshift headband tied around his head, pulled low enough to shadow his eyes. The only other thing he can do is keep his head down, eyes fixed on his food. Noctis's toast makes him feel both fond and guilty, his throat suddenly dry. Since he's not about to slake his thirst at anyone's neck, he barely turns to CT, his voice soft.]

Could you pass the juice, please?

Thanks.

[Now he can be next to CT and closer to Soma.]

[Noctis had once told her that she had a way of talking to people-- back when she'd doubted the legitimacy of his fragmented memory. At the time she'd "laughed" about it. To look people in the face and say something to them is very different from giving them a story to dive into. "She" isn't the masterful person people imagine when they read her lovingly crafted stories. At least... that's what she'd thought. But with the week dragging on and uncertainty looming...

Ugh.]

...I don't expect you all to take this to heart or anything but...

[Deep breath.]

By now you should have all figured out that this isn't my first time having to deal with these circumstances. Which means... no matter what things look like now, there is a way out. There is a way to survive. We don't have to keep living just to expect someone is going to betray us.

In the beginning you were all just strangers. Well... almost all of you. Names, faces... what you cared about... I only know that now because I had to be here. But... I feel closer to this bunch of strangers than I ever did with my own classmates.

[She looks down at the table hard for a moment.]

Honestly we're a dysfunctional mess. A disaster waiting to happen.

[There are... a lot of colorful characters here.]

But I guess that's not so bad. Maybe even a dysfunctional mess can open up a way to hope.

[ He gives her a smile and raises his glass to her. ]

Couldn't have said it better myself.

[Dude, one of your own classmates is right across from you.]

[But all things considered, that was a pretty decent speech. Hope is what everyone needs right now.]

[Despite the clearly cutting remarks, Varric couldn't help but smirk as he took his drink. She was right, they were an absolute mess. And despite his attempts at keeping everyone together tonight, he had a bad feeling they would wake up to another horror show in the morning.

Maybe it would just keep going like that.

But Varric had experience with dysfunctional messes. There was no other way to describe his friends in Kirkwall or even the ones in Skyhold. Like in Thedas, they'd all been thrown together by some mix of fate and malevolent forces.]

In my experience, there's no better party to have then one that's falling apart at the seams.

[Varric was quiet for a moment He knew he wasn't the only one that had an effect on the troubled king. This speech wasn't just for him. But there was no doubting that some of it was for him -- he could see it in Noctis's gaze when their eyes met.

Maybe he was doing something right.]

And here I thought you might have liked the view more.

Yes. [Please help her, it's been there for ten minutes.]

It's kind of in a hard-to-reach spot...

["Brawwk! Pyrrha Nikos has a magnetic personality!"

She's suffering my dude.]

[Ooookay? He raises an eyebrow at the parrot's comment and walks over behind her.]

Right, Uh... Just try to hold still, ok?

[He's gonna try and pull the parrot off.]

[ They haven't spoken outside of that stupid group therapy session, but now's as good a time as any to start. CT nods, reaching for the juice to pass it over, then stops, still holding the pitcher in one hand, when she looks over and sees the way Soma's staring down at his plate. ]

Uh...are you okay?

[ Please don't throw up at the banquet table... ]

I will. [Please just help.

And here we go...? When he starts to pull, Pyrrha does the same, in the opposite direction. Harold is just freaking out, on the other hand.

It takes a bit of effort, but the bird does finally pop off of Pyrrha, although Leon will feel a strange pull tugging the bird back as he's pulled away.]

[And he's stumbling back a bit as he removes the bird.]

[What is going on? He's trying to keep the bird away from her now why is it being pulled back.]

Gah-!

[He's not that kind of sick, CT, though he wishes he was. It would be better than smelling all the blood in everyone's veins and wanting it like a drug. He takes the pitcher from her-- god, his hands are chilly-- and pours some juice for himself, taking a drunk before he can answer.]

I'm... as well as I can be. I remembered something on Sunday, something... really bad.

[And remembering did some nasty stuff to him physically, so.]

Did Leon tell you anything?

[ Shit, his hands are like ice. CT still isn't entirely convinced that he's not actually sick. She shakes her head. ]

No...I haven't heard anything.

[ She shrugs, sympathetically, and glances at her own plate. ]

I get it, though.

Some of these memories...I wonder if they're real at all, or just...

[ Another trick. Another way to manipulate them. ]

They're real. I'm sure of it.

[He takes another sip of his drink even though it's too sweet, nothing like what he wants. Setting down his glass slowly, he takes a couple of slow breaths before he barely turns his face toward CT, giving her just a quick glimpse of luminous red eyes. When he speaks, she'll see the tips of his fangs.]

Remembering did this to me.

He's impressive. [A glance up from his plate] I'd be interested to see what he can do with what he's more familiar with.

[Dr. Price answers the invitation in person; he's dressed down but still professional, in an almost black-purple vest over a grey shirt and black slacks. He doesn't seem entirely comfortable, but whether that's his usual stick up his ass or legitimate uncertainty is impossible to tell. He sips at a drink and picks at very little food. He'll engage anyone who approaches him, but the way that he lingers on the edge of the party implies that he is well aware that the host's invitation is from Varric and Varric alone.

Not that he doesn't seem perfectly content to hold up a wall with occasional help from his tablet, on which he takes notes.]

[He listened to the story with a guarded expression, noted how he wasn't mentioned at all. But then, he'd rather be an afterthought if being the center warranted the kind of end that Blaze Dudely in the story got.

His lips thinned and brow furrowed slightly at that part of the story, on edge as if he was expecting the subject of the tale to make a preemptive strike.]

[ And Noctis sure approaches him. ]

You clean up nicely, Doc.

[ Yeah, sure. She's still not entirely convinced. Or at least, she doesn't want to be. Her memories...she can still hardly believe that she'd done everything she remembers doing, sometimes. That it had ever really happened.

But she looks over when Soma lifts his head and looks at her, doubletaking at the sight of his face. Red eyes that don't even look human. A flash of white that looks almost like...fangs?

She can't even grasp the truth what she's looking at right away. Just that...it's not normal. And it's definitely not what he had looked like before. ]

It...changed you?

Just...just remembering changed you?

[Varric hadn't noticed the Counselor's presence until well into his story. He made sure to meet the man's eyes, lifting his brows as he did, before turning to stare at someone else. He was a professional storyteller -- it was almost impossible to distract him.

When he finished, however, he practically made a beeline for the Counselor's spot against a wall. Varric mirrored the man's posture, attempting to look as casual as possible as he turned his focus fully to the good doctor.]

How's that for using my words?

I hardly see how this is different from what I have been wearing, but thank you, Your Majesty.

[The black-purple and grey complement his skin.]

[He nods.]

Not quite what I had in mind, but I'm sure it will be good for your fellow Champions' morale.

[is that a joke

are we telling jokes now]

[A small, dull nod.]

That's how it happened before, in the time I remembered. Memories of past incarnations came back to me-- dozens or more, I don't know how many-- and when I remembered who I am it made me look like this. I guess... forgetting makes the truth hide its face. Hide my face.

[ A month ago, she would have immediately rejected everything he's saying as made-up nonsense. It should be impossible, after all. Past lives, physical appearances changing based on a memory...and whatever it is he's supposed to have become.

But then, she's seen a lot of impossible in the past few weeks. She listens, taking it all in. ]

So...

[ She pauses. He hadn't wanted to show her at first, after all, and had obviously been worried about what she might have heard. But he's talking about it now. ]

...What did you remember?

[ Who are you? ]

... that Kiss-Shot wasn't the only vampire in this place.

[His voice strangles a little on the v-word. Just saying it turns his stomach. At least in the castle, he had constant fighting for his life to distract him. All of this time waiting between deaths only makes him hyper-focused on what's happening to him.]

I killed someone in self-defense. Graham was crazy, thinking he was the one they call Dracula. The king of all vampires in my world, reincarnated over and over for more than nine centuries. Graham was jealous of my power, he knew what it meant even though I didn't, and when I took his life Dracula's living castle recognized me as its master reborn. I know it sounds insane, and I wish it wasn't true, but that's what I am, CT.

[ There it is again. Vampire. If not for Kiss-Shot, and how Erika had died, CT might have agreed that it sounded insane. That it couldn't possibly be true. After all, everyone knows that vampires aren't real.

Or at least, so she'd thought.

Now, though, she doesn't scoff or brush him off. Nor, to her credit, does she back away when he admits what he is. She stays where she is, brow furrowed in thought. For a wild moment, she thinks he's talking about Will, before he continues. ]

...It's not your fault.

Self-defense...there's nothing wrong with that. Anyone would have done the same thing.

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May You Always Be Satisfied

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