[mingle log] from down the length of the long table

[onemind]

CHARACTERS: OTA
WHERE: The Station
WHEN: DAY :040
SUMMARY: A dinner party.
WARNINGS: Will update as necessary. Need a warning added? PM this account please!

THE LONG TABLE seems to have grown itself from out of the Station itself at the center of the Circular Gardens. It's made of the same mottled gray and white material as the Station's corridors and light scattered floors and on it has been set a parade of dishes. They are hot and cool, familiar and unfamiliar, alien and nostalgic. The dishware is mismatched -
a slew of fine china, a handful of delicately painted ceramic bowls, brass and glass cups and an assortment of fluted metal champagne stems. Pitchers of sweet teas and spiced juices and thick, syrupy wines dot the long banquet table and strings of small, glittering lights have been stitched through the surrounding greenery.

It's pleasant, or it should be. Certainly some considerable effort has been made in the preparation and execution of the meal. And perhaps parts of this meeting must be sad, but surely some of them are as intended. Certainly Cathaway seems intent on being bright and friendly from her seat toward the middle of the table as she passes dishes and instructs how certain alien foods are to be eaten, with Prince stationed beside her. This is meant to be nice: an excuse to see one another's faces, to make idle conversation, to marvel at little victories. The egg stolen from The Fair Heart is a centerpiece of the table (though swathed in a silvery luminescent fabric and clearly for decoration, not eating). Prince, clothed in something besides his typical uniform, seems occasionally distracted by it.

But there's no denying that this might be a quieter affair than intended - less populated than is ideal. Still, the food is good and surely the company must be somewhat tolerable.

I. A TOAST To your success on Waypoint Shril and to every newly hatched Host. To old friends. To new ones. To the beings we miss and the ones we don't. To what's to come. There's plenty of beverages (alcoholic or non-) available to guzzle.

II. SCINTILLATING CONVERSATION There's enough room for everyone at the table, but absolutely no assigned seating. Hopefully you don't hate the person you're sitting next to.

III. CUISINE FROM A DISTANT LAND How exactly are you supposed to eat that?

IV. A PRIVATE CORNER The nice thing about garden party dinners is it's really easy to slip away, and the garden almost seems to be designed for it. There are, among the plants and trees and shrubs, small clusters of chairs rising from the floor, lit by the twinkling strands of lights.

V. WILDCARD Drink too much. Arm wrestle on the table. Play a nice rowdy game of spoons. Say something nice. Say something mean. Awkwardly chew food that's way, way too squishy.

---

((OOC Notes: This is the mingle log for the dinner party on Day :040. The dinner itself lasts a few hours unless the Hosts drag it out deep into what constitutes as evening on the station. Come and go as you please and feel free to get creative with the prompts - they're inspiration more than they are strict guidelines.))

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Comments

[deployed]

[ Bellamy can't help but open up in the face of Adra's mind. It's instinct to curl into it. It reminds him of sun on his skin, of that first day on Earth when he'd stepped into fresh air and turned his face skyward for a few minutes to savor it. There's no barbs or ice in Adra's mind, and it's a momentary safe refuge. Bellamy can settle into it; it cushions him from the suffocating absence of the Darkling and the dwindling numbers of his brood. ]

No. Not really.

[ The Station is big, but it's hard to run from people who are linked into your head. ]

Everyone tries to be polite but slips are inevitable.

[ Like Bellamy's slipping now. His tone is apologetic, considering how close he's pressing against Adra's mind. ]

[hymnals]

[ Bellamy's mind coils around him, anxious and slippery. Adra can feel its presence sinking into his consciousness; it's a sharp, foreign knot of nerves, raw and aching, in need of comfort. If he were back home, Adra would consider this--all of this--an invasion. He'd fight back, be suspicious. But this nest is not composed of monsters--at least, not the kind Adra's thinking of. These are not shadow priests seeking revelation. These are just people. Kids.

Adra shakes his head. ]

If we can help each other through these bonds, we should.

[ Adra's body has always been frail. But his mind is a cathedral of fire, and if he can warm somebody by its light, then he will. No matter how discomfiting it feels for him personally. ]

[deployed]

[ Adra makes their situation sound simple. Bellamy didn't even inherently disagree with that. But the cost of the bonds between them flickers briefly: blank faces moving in lockstep, the blood-spattered ruin of Polis, Kane's detached calm as his weight bore down on Bellamy, suffocating him. The symbiotes are not the chip, and ALIE doesn't exist here as far as Bellamy can tell, but the thralls tending to the Station seem to signal the same outcome for those who are too free with their minds. ]

Maybe, [ Bellamy says, then amends: ] So long as we're careful not to get too close.

[ But Adra at least seemed to know what he was doing. Or the meditation gave Bellamy the impression that he did, in the same way Lexa did. He likely would have less to worry about. ]

Some things I don't think we can help, no matter how close our minds are.

[ They couldn't wake anyone sleeping. That was just the fact of the matter. Bellamy's ache would have to remain. ]

[hymnals]

[ For Adra, most nuances and complexities of life do boil down to essential truths. No matter how difficult a conflict, no matter how multifaceted or how thick the web, Adra has always found he can rely on the guiding principles of his faith to see him through. Compassion can get you hurt. Tenacity can result in failure. And even in Azeroth, the line between good and evil is often a blur. But Adra's self-assurance comes from a rock-solid belief that he makes choices in service of others, that he aims to preserve rather than destroy. It's not always personally healthy. But he's never been truly deterred. ]

Desire and ability are not the same thing.

[ An acknowledgment that Bellamy's spoken truthfully. ]

And many wish to do more than they are able. But doing something is better than focusing on what lies beyond your reach.

[deployed]

[ Something in the phrasing of that reminds him of Lexa, in a way. It's good advice, and maybe easier to take without instinctively bristling from Adra than from Lexa. ]

Do you want to go home? [ Bellamy asks abruptly. ] Do you think leaving here is beyond your reach?

[ Though for Bellamy, home has become tangled with the bodies sealed into their pods. Home is not just the war torn wreckage of Earth, but the Darkling and the sensation of his mind hooked into Bellamy's as well. The inability to excise the latter is troubling, or it would be if Bellamy were to admit it to himself. ]

[hymnals]

[ Adra's a pretty fresh arrival, which means his homesickness is still acute. But it's a guilty feeling for him, something he actively tries to tamp down.

His voice is mild. ]

I was in the middle of a pretty important war, so I'd like to get back to it when I can.

[ He shuts his eyes; breathes deep. Centering. ]

Yet I know that if I'm here, it is the Light's will. And I know nothing is beyond that will.

[ Thus, he must try to be at peace. ]

[deployed]

[ The way Adra talks about the light reminds Bellamy of the way Lexa had talked about the flame, or in a darker turn, the way the infected in Polis had talked about ALIE. The ping of guilt from Adra is somehow the easier, more welcome thing to consider. It settles in against Bellamy's own guilt and longing for home, familiar even though Adra himself is still strange. ]

I was in a war too.

[ Or it had felt like a war, even if the enemy they were grappling with was inside his own people's minds. Bellamy sits all at once, settling an arm's length away. ]

I can't tell if the battles wait for us or not.

[ The passage of time was hard to parse. Rhys's confusion when Bellamy had asked him had felt ridiculous, but having been here for some length of time himself, Bellamy understands it. Becoming confused was easy. There were no easy markers. Aliens planets and space didn't behave the way Bellamy thought they should. ]

[hymnals]

[ Adra sighs, slow and deep. He's not surprised to hear that--war is everywhere, it seems, and leaves no world unscathed--but it's disheartening nevertheless. Most of the wars that rage across Azeroth are petty and small; land disputes that stem from years of entrenched prejudice, ignorance, and hatred. But some of the conflicts he faces are against true, pure evil--and it is this that he feels he cannot escape forever. ]

I pray you don't, but I know how a world turns. If you've fought one, you're likely to fight another.

[ Because nobody ever just lets things go. Not insofar as he's seen, anyway. ]

[deployed]

[ It's a bleak sentiment, but it's something Bellamy recognizes as true. He believes what he'd told Clarke at home: We've been at war since we landed. The enemy and objective are no longer something so easy for him to define, but the sense of conflict is unchanging. ]

It's the same here.

[ It's a single war, but it's battle after battle after unintentional battle. ]

Maybe that's why we've been chosen.

[ Because they both believed in such a statement: that conflict was inevitable and a war would be fought one way or another. ]

[hymnals]

[ Mildly: ]

By the Nest, or by that thing that was trying to kill us?

[ Adra believes in destiny, in fate. The Light has a plan for everyone, a path to follow. He believes he's on that path right now. But fate is a malleable thing, and divine forces are often inscrutable. ]

[deployed]

One brought on the other.

[ Allegedly. ]

But there has to be some commonality. Something we all share.

[ Something that makes them compatible with the symbiote. ]

I'm sorry. You were trying to meditate.

[ Which is more because Bellamy can't see a clear similarity, rather than because he' holding onto concern about Adra's meditation. ]

[hymnals]

[ Yeah, so THEY SAY!! Though Adra doesn't really question the underpinnings of what's happened to him. Cosmic evil isn't unknown to him, and neither Cathaway nor Prince have felt untrustworthy. ]

Bad luck, I think.

[ He shrugs, eyes shut. ]

I've kept my focus through a lot worse than you.