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Daycycle 116 [ November 13 - November 26 ]

daycycle 116

[Nov 13 - Nov 26]

[OOC Plotting for this Daycycle can be found here.]
[The Charity Ball Entertainment post is here.]
[This DC has been extended through 11/26.]

Early Morning [0800 - 0900] — All Troubleshooters Report for Duty

No Special Troubleshooters have been selected for a mission this morning.

Morning & Afternoon [0900 - 1600] — Service Firm Positions
All Troubleshooters not assigned a mission should report to their Service Firm for their daily duties, unless specifically assigned a different shift.

Matt Murdock's office will be assigned to defend the most recent Specials accused of treason. He will not be allowed to contact the traitors directly, but he will be given the task of preparing his cases. He has 48 hours to prepare.

Jack Harkness has been selected to plan the entertainment for tonight's Charity Ball, thanks to the popularity of his performances during the Alpha Talent Show a few days ago. When he asks The Computer for help, several specials are assigned to him. Izzy Lightwood will be his event planning assistant and "Stiles" Stilinski will assist in MCing the night's event. Due to their popularity, all Specials will be approached about being auctioned off for dances in order to help raise money by Jack, Izzy and Stiles. They will also be asked if they're willing to take part in specially planned choreographed dances. Dance lessons will be provided for those that require them during the afternoon hours.

Evening [1600 - 2200] — Citizen Improvement
All Alpha citizens are encouraged to better themselves through Alpha’s wide variety of educational, entertainment and cultural opportunities offered each evening. Attending these sanctioned events are not mandatory, but is highly encouraged by The Computer. Citizens choosing not to take advantage of these opportunities, have a growing number of other options available to them in how to spend their hard earned credits and free time.

Tonight’s event will begin at 1800 at the Alpha Museum of Fine Art and will be hosted by The ~~Humanists~~ Alpha Society for the Arts. Tickets to the event are 1000cr and can be bought up until an hour before the event begins. Attendees have been given special permission to wear Old Reckoning clothing for this event only, as long as it is the same color as their clearance level. Specials may notice that many of the Alpha Citizen's outfits have gotten key parts of Old Reckoning clothing wrong, with buttons instead of sequins, for example, or men wearing ties that are much too long and go to their knees. Alpha's Very Special Forces will be present to ensure the safety of those attending.

An entire wing of the museum has been cleared as a makeshift dance floor. In an attached room there are several tables covered in white tablecloths and set with the crystal and china that usually only graces Violet citizen tables. Along the wall is a massive buffet made with real food and including an elaborate ice sculpture. There is a bar in the corner where Alpha's finest spirits are being disbursed freely. For the first hour, the focus is on the food and mingling. The music playing is calming and instrumental. There are some that steal the dancefloor for a slow spin, but the majority of the attendees seem reluctant to move away from the buffet.

And then at approximately 1900, Jack Harkness will take the stage and begin the evening's real entertainment.

Alpha Curfew Restrictions
All Alpha citizens should be in their quarters within the Wagon Wheel by 2200, unless they’ve been given permission from a GREEN or higher clearance level citizen. Sleeping Aid gas is dispelled each night in the Wagon Wheel at 2200 to assist citizens in getting a productive sleeping period.

Confession Booths
There are hundreds of confession booths available around Alpha Complex if a citizen would like to communicate directly with the computer. Please use these confession booths to report mission statuses, report treason or terrorist acts, unregistered mutants, confess your trespasses against Alpha Complex, request propaganda or speak with Your Friend, The Computer, at any time.

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

He doesn't want it to come to that either. He wants Lydia to be a rousing success without his help. He's hoping that all her marketing will have the same effect, that her business will pick up. She deserves this. Lydia is one of the hardest working people he knows. He nods at her reassurance, but he's glad that she doesn't rule it out entirely. He wants her to leave her options open.

He understands that and she's right, they are two very different things. Honestly, he's not sure how long it would have taken him to say those words. It's been a very long time since Matt has said those words to someone he was involved with romantically and the last time he'd said them, the last time he'd meant those words, it hadn't turned out well for him.

He leans in to kiss her lightly, chastely and whispers to her. "There's no one else I'd rather be stuck with."

She likes the way he grins when she touches him. Buffy feels the attraction too. She can't say that she's falling for Alcide, but she likes him. Buffy has spent the last couple of years before Spike not getting involved in a romantic relationship. She's spent that time becoming cookies. She's used to wanting things and not having them. She'd gotten used to it a long time ago when she was in high school. Maybe that's made it harder for her to want things.

"Probably a good thing. Room mate," she jokes in return. It's a good thing that Alcide doesn't like to let things fester. It had saved their relationship.

She hopes that it has nothing to do with anyone but her and him. She likes Alcide enough that she wants to spend more time with him. She wants to flirt with him. She wants to see where and how things go. Now it's her turn to grin and duck her head, to flush a little. "How can I say no to that?"

She shrugs a little. "If it's not too much to ask." She flashes a cheesy grin at him. "I think if I start slurring my words or stumbling, it's a good sign I shouldn't be in the company of people at all." She tilts her head a little at him. "Did you not ever go to a party or two?"

"Well, the monkey suit looks good on you, but I could do without the forced formality too."

There's got to be someone in charge of that or maybe the Specials that work with computers and data could give them a little more information. She understands the whole morale thing of a party, but giving everyone real food every day would boost morale as well. She's suspicious as well.

At least in this instance, she's happy enough to be a guinea pig. The drink is all kinds of yum. She's glad that the drink choice impresses him. She really had very little else to offer if he didn't like this. She sips her drink and walks with him, listening. Her brow furrows a little and her face looks concerned. "Did it ask you for anything? Did you promise anything?" She glances around the room then back to Derek. "I kind of think we are. Have you seen the gossip on the network?"

Frowning slightly, Derek gives a slight jerk of his chin. "Yeah, you and me both," he says bitterly. "But not everyone has that as a default setting." He imagines that the INFRAREDs, like he and Natasha, are used to being dispensable, but the other Specials, maybe not so much. Derek's used to being treated as though he's important when he's needed and being ignored — at best — when he isn't, so this isn't much of a change for him, but he can see that it weighs on some Alphas, Special and otherwise.

"I can't, but it's less about the abilities and more an existential crisis for me. I'm not even the right goddamn species anymore," he complains. Yeah, he misses his abilities but not because they make his life easier. He misses them because they're a part of him and always have been save the week or so when Kate had managed to rob him of them before he'd evolved and gotten everything back and then some. It's harder for him to function this way because while some people might see his werewolf senses as a special ability, he doesn't. He sees them as his senses the way they should be and almost always have been. He feels disabled now, his senses being all simultaneously dulled; his body weaker and more frail. He didn't get his abilities through a bite. He's always had them. It feels like a huge piece of himself has been taken away and he's not really sure how to put that into words to anyone other than Alcide who, like Derek, is a wolf and knows exactly the feeling. So he doesn't. He leaves it at the prior statement and sighs.

It actually takes effort for him not to roll his eyes. Human senses are fucking worthless, in his opinion. He can barely hear a goddamn thing, he can't smell anything unless it's right on top of him. Worthless. "I guess. I haven't had a choice for quite a while so it's what I've been doing," he says with a heavy frown.

Though when she continues, Derek shakes his head. "No...that's okay, I'm trying to do this through the Computer so it'll be sanctioned. I don't want to sneak around getting food for myself and the people I care about, I want everyone to have food, because everyone should have food. The only way it'll ever happen is if someone can prove to the Computer that it's a necessity and that's exactly what I'm going to do," he says, his voice firm but neutral. If he has to do this bullshit testing for the next several years then that's what he'll do, but he's determined to make it happen. "They can have their stupid caste system for housing and wealth, but food isn't a luxury and shouldn't be treated as such. So I'm going to change it and I don't care how long it takes me."

Derek gives a nod, huffing with amusement. "Fair enough. I'll keep an ear and an eye out, then, and I'll get you back to our room myself if I see it." His amusement falls away, though, when Buffy asks whether he'd ever been to a party. The smile falls into a frown. No. He hasn't been to a party long enough to notice that. By the time he was old enough to have been to a party where people might've been drinking, the fire had already happened and he and his older sister were holed up in a shitty loft out in Brooklyn, hiding. He went to school and he came home. He quit basketball. He didn't bother making friends at his new school. When he came back to Beacon Hills, it was with a huge chip on his shoulder, grief with which he had still been grappling, and a general hatred and distrust for others, not to mention being surrounded by teenagers rather than people his own age. This is the first party he's been to that wasn't at a bowling alley, unless you count him breaking up the rave that someone saw fit to throw in Derek's loft while he wasn't home. He hadn't been invited to that one, incidentally.

"No," he says shortly. "Not since I was thirteen. I'll just keep an eye out for stumbles and an ear for slurring and that'll have to do. No giving me a hard time," he says, trying to force a small smile in response to her compliment amongst her complaint. "Thanks. You look good, too, for what it's worth, whether we like it or not."

Derek finds a table and settles down into one of the chairs, taking another drink before setting the glass down on the table and shaking his head. "I asked it for fucking food, Buffy," he says with a huff that's caught somewhere between incredulity and amusement. "But no, I didn't promise anything. I don't have anything the Computer would want anyway." Which is a soft but clear implication that if he did, yeah. He would've if it meant food for everyone.

His brow creases and Derek gives a disapproving look at her question before lifting his glass again. "I don't read that garbage," he replies. He'd read the first post and rolled his eyes a lot and he'd read the second and decided that was the last one. Never again. Those people are insane. "I don't get why they give a shit, it's not like they know anything about us."

He isn't exactly sure what reaction he was hoping for with that last bit, but the way she grins and ducks her head is a helluva reaction. He sips at his drink and rubs his hand over the back of his neck beneath the collar of his dress shirt. His skin is tickling with goosebumps. Buffy does this to him. Yes, he's had his fair share of beer, but this is all Buffy.

He does whatever passes for a semblance of a shrug and lightly brushes his knuckles over a section of her arm near her shoulder. "Well I was kinda hopin' that the word no wouldn't be a part of the equation."

He isn't sure why it's easy to talk to Gracie, but it is. And at this point he knows that whatever he tells her, it won't end up on her morning radio show like he first feared. Gracie is his friend, and a good one at that. She's good people, just like Derek, Zee and Buffy.

"Reasons like..." He starts. "Like we kind of got messed up with the coffee together the second day I was here, second day we know each other. We're roommates. We work together. And... she's got somethin' waitin' for her back home. Don't know if I can say the same the way I left things, but there was someone for me too... only she'd run off with her ex so... it's complicated."

This so far from what Zee expected out of tonight and she can't help but love Alcide that much more for it. Not only did he deign to take her to this event he wanted nothing to do with, but he's gone above and beyond making it especially fun for them both. Who knew stealing desserts could be such a blast? Not Zatanna Zatara, that's for sure. But there you have it. This is the most fun she's had in a long time.

Alcide lays down his coat on the floor and Zatanna clumsily dumps the cream puffs out of her dress, pouting her bottom lip out a little bit as she looks down at the ruined fabric. "Well...I looked pretty for a couple of hours," she says wistfully and then hiccups again. A couple of hours is better than not at all.

It takes Zee a little extra effort to try to get down on the floor before she sighs and rolls her eyes, reaching back to unzip her dress and letting it tumble down into a puddle of fabric at her feet. "One sec," she says, wandering off further into HQ in her undergarments and heels to find the jumpsuit she's stashed there thinking she probably wouldn't want to spend the whole night in a dress, no matter how nice it was to get out of the jumpsuit. If Alcide was Robin or one of the girls, she'd probably just stay in her underwear, honestly, partially because she's too drunk to care and partially because she wouldn't care anyway; she has bathing suits that cover less of her body than her underwear and bra do, after all. Back home, anyway. She just figures it'd probably make Alcide more uncomfortable than it's worth to risk. She likes him; he's her best friend here. Making him uncomfortable just because she doesn't want to sit around in a dress covered in dessert mess isn't an option.

"Totally worth it," she calls back from behind a dusty old forgotten blackboard as she zips up her jumpsuit and comes back around it dressed again, heels hanging from one of her hands by their straps. Her mouth opens in a pleasant surprise at the satisfying POP before Alcide starts to try to catch it in his mouth making Zee laugh. She settles sitting beside him on the floor, then, not bothering with her discarded dress which she'll probably deal with later, and she picks up a cream puff in one hand while reaching for the bottle with her other. "I never tried champagne before, is it good?" Clearly, it's fizzier than anything else she's had to drink tonight, so that's interesting. Fizzy liquor, huh. Seems legit.

Zee looks doubtful at that. How could she come here by herself and not look like a loser? Isn't that kind of the literal definition of loser? She's in the younger iteration of the Justice League and she's a bad ass, but at heart, she's still a sixteen year old girl who still has to go to high school. For her, even though Zatanna is largely immune, there is still that instinct to be self-conscious because that's just what sixteen year old girls do.

"I'm having — hic — so much here, I hope they do this every day," she slurs a little with a huge grin. She knows that's an exaggeration of a possibility. Even if they did this more often, every day would be a bit much. She's liking the way she feels after drinking some alcohol and filling her stomach with actual food; she's loving the way she feels like a girl finally, now that she can wear a dress. While she'd never really been a big fan of dresses and skirts back home, it's still nice. It's like making up for the fugly jumpsuits that don't fit her at all which she's been stuck wearing all this time.

"You have really pretty hair," she says suddenly, reaching toward Gracie to touch a lock of it, curling it around her forefinger briefly before realizing belatedly that she's invading someone else's space, and she takes her hand back to herself, cheeks going a bit pink and shoulders and chest wracking with another hiccup mid word. "Sor—hic—sorry."

“No, not at all.” Steve even gestures forward with one hand, indicating please.

“Doctor Holtzmann,” if he’s remembering correctly, “said that … she’d seen several movies about me. I was … well, surprised, but honestly, maybe I shouldn’t have been. I’d wanted to know what they were about. But we didn’t have the time.”

As for the others, “What kind of information would be helpful in a trial here?” Steve had some sense of what he could offer at home, like testifying to someone’s character, but he has a strong suspicion that the Computer might not care about character.

"Takes more than a dress to look really pretty and sweetheart, you got that down already." He tells her as the bubbles simmer in the bottle. Of course then there's a glance in her direction and she's out of her dress and Alcide makes himself look away rather than stare in shock. Not that he's never seen a girl in her underwear before, he has plenty of times in that and less. This one was just unexpected.

Alcide is comfortable with nudity. Wolves in his world are naked all the time, male and female. So it probably wouldn't have bothered him too much to have her sit there mostly naked once he realized she was comfortable with it. To Alcide, it just something about how comfortable she is around him and he likes that she is. In lieu of that, he's just gonna try to be a gentleman about it since Zee isn't a wolf and might not be so accustomed to it as he is.

She returns in a jumpsuit and he sends her a small grin, offering her the bottle of champagne. "It's bubbly and sweet. Not my go-to, but I'll take what I can get. If you liked that pink stuff you were drinkin' you'll probably like this." He takes one of her feet into his lap, knowing how past girlfriends always felt about wearing heels in a beauty is pain kind of way, and starts massaging her foot.

"I gotta tell ya. This night is way better than I expected. I didn't expect it to be horrible cause of you. But cause I don't trust this thing they're puttin' on. You just made it a lot of fun. Thanks for that." He says.

"You're so sweet," she croons back at him. Zatanna doesn't think she looks pretty swimming in an ugly red jumpsuit; she thinks she looks like a prison inmate who's been refusing to eat the nasty food being given to her. Which...well. Isn't entirely inaccurate. Zee can only stand so much of the soylent and she only eats what she has to to make her stomach stop hurting. The taste is bland if not terrible and she certainly doesn't feel healthy when she's finished. She feels tired and weak. She's lost weight when she'd already been petite. Zee doesn't think it's a very good look on her, but Alcide's compliment brings a smile to her face. At least she's just her own worst critic and that's all it is, then.

Bubbly and sweet sounds incredible to Zatanna about then, so she grins, taking the bottle from him. "I loved the pink stuff!" she squeals and as Alcide takes her foot into his lap to massage it, she groans and looks back at him with a mixture of emotion in her expression between appreciative, surprised, and completely put out. "Ugh, if I was ten years older, Al..." she says wistfully. "You're a freaking keeper, my friend. Thank you," she adds in case the appreciation was lost in her initially — albeit playfully — mixed response.

"Psh," she says dismissively before taking a sip of the bottle, adding an "ooh!" of delighted approval before offering it back to him. He's the one that smuggled it after all. "Like I went to it because of the event. I just wanted to get out of this ugly jumpsuit for a little while and have a reason to do my hair and feel pretty for a minute, because it's been a while. I knew I'd have fun with you though. This has been the best," she says and her words are finally starting to really slur as the adrenaline of a cream puff heist is winding down. "You're the best. You're the best of the best of the best. C'n I keep you? I'm keeping you," she babbles before popping another cream puff in her mouth. "My life would suck without you," she tries to add, but it comes out all muffled and crummy with her mouth full, so she has no idea if he actually understood it.

Natasha gives a single nod when Derek explains what it means to him for his abilities to be taken away to convey that she understands, but she says no more. When it comes to losing a part of oneself all someone else can do is relate, and in this particular situation Natasha can relate a little more than she wants to. The Black Widow project that she was thrust into at a young age was never something that she had chosen, but what they did to her in the end, her 'graduation ceremony', is the only scar that they left behind that Natasha knows she can never cover up no matter how much good she does.

It's not the fact that she can't have children; she wants them but she's accepted that it's not something that's going to be possible for her because of the life she's chosen. It's the fact that the choice was taken away from her, and not for her health but for the specific purpose to dehumanize her. People can see what HYDRA did to Barnes plainly, his arm a visual mark of what they had forced him to be and how they demoralized him into nothing more than a glorified assault rifle.

The same was done to Natasha, a physical modification to her body that was done to make her an efficient tool; something less than human. She'll never get that part of her humanity back because it was purposefully stolen from her, but only one other person knows about that and he got on a plane to put as much distance between them as he possibly could. She's not going to make the mistake of giving someone a part of herself by sharing that secret again. All Derek needs to know is that she can relate; he doesn't need to know how.

"That's probably the smarter move," she supports, although Natasha doesn't think that relying on the Computer to come through when it comes to food for the lower ranks is too promising. "Throw yourself into it, and if you need help I'll do whatever I can." It's good that he doesn't care how long it takes him, because Natasha has a feeling that it might be a very steep uphill battle. "Maybe you can speed up the process if you also add in the possibility of it being a morale booster. You could even use this event as an example, since there's actual food here. You know how much the Computer cares about morale." The last part is practically dripping in sarcasm when she says it.

If anything, the red jumpsuits are the great equalizer. It's the ones who don't have to wear them that Alcide knows to question more so than the others. If he could choose though, he's not too picky. Jeans and a western shirt or tank top or tee shirt are usually his go-to when he's wearing clothes at all - which, to be fair, a lot of the time he isn't for ease of shifting back and forth.

He chuckles, deep and amused, when she says if she was ten years older. It's not the first time he's thought the same thing. "Right back at'cha Zee." And he means that. His fingertips continue to press into the arch of her foot and smooth over muscle. "I've never had any luck with bein' a keeper though. Just isn't in the cards. I'd like to keep you around though."

Zee's words start slurring and Alcide is so very amused as he takes the bottle back to take a healthy pull from it. He sets the bottle aside and pulls her close to him, pretty sure she's about to pass out and wanting to give her something other than the floor to lean against. "You've got me, Zee. Come here." His life here would suck without her too. She's become irreplaceable in his life and that means a lot to him.

"Thanks," Derek says quietly. He's not sure how much anyone at all can help. If showing the results of his study — Jesus, he's doing an actual experiment, like a damn scientist, just so they can eat; that's happening. — to the Computer doesn't yield results, nothing legal will.

Natasha does make a good point though, one that Derek hadn't actually considered. "...you know, that's not bad. If I get the thing really rolling tomorrow, then I should be able to see a peak of energy before it drops off again day after tomorrow, which will only support my theory. Gently nudging the word 'morale' in on top of the health stuff to give the Computer something it might actually give a shit about..." His voice trails off and he nods again, looking impressed. "Yeah, thanks, I'll find a way to work that in there, because you're right."

Not that he thinks that the Computer actually cares, because he doesn't, but It likes to shout about happy citizens from the rooftops, so Natasha's right. Padding his results with a mention of morale; explaining that food makes for happy, healthy Citizens might actually give him a much needed leg up. Derek already knows he's fighting an uphill battle, but maybe throwing around that word will get him to a plateau that'll be easier from which to battle.

"I'm not above using our newfound celebrity, either," Derek says out of the corner of his mouth, low and quiet. "These people think we're gods or something. Maybe our opinions will carry some weight if we decide to subtly share them. Get the rest of the Alphas behind them without them realizing that it was even our idea to begin with..." He gives her a sideways glance and lifts his eyebrows, interested in her thoughts on that.

Zatanna makes a face, her nose wrinkling heavily with distaste. "Then you're hooking up with the wrong girls cuz they're dumb. You're totally whelming," she insists, following her statement with a hum of appreciation for his massage. "Good, because you're — hic — you're stuck with me," she adds with a little nod meant to convey finality.

His reassurance as he pulls her in has Zee moving sluggishly but willingly to his side. Maybe he knows something she doesn't, because it's almost like the gesture makes her realize how tired she actually does feel. Or maybe it's the alcohol settling while her adrenaline rush has fallen away. Or that she's eaten more tonight than she has in all of the rest of her days in this hellhole combined.

Her eyes close and she leans against him, a yawn sneaking up on her as she opens her mouth to speak. "I wish every night was fun like this," she says through it. "Do you think they'll ever do it again? Something like this?"

"Exactly," Natasha supports with a nod. "You have everyone at their default all the time, so you can use that as your baseline activity for all of the information you gather but you need to have proof that eating decent food actually makes a difference. Use this pathetic attempt at normalcy to your advantage. Productivity will probably go up in the next couple of days before dropping dramatically, that's pretty strong proof and you'll need that if you're trying to convince a machine that food is important." She finishes by giving him a little smile and a slight nudge on the arm with her shoulder. "I'm always right. Obviously."

The suggestion that he use his status among the INFRARED makes Natasha grin in a way that seems more mischievous than what the conversation calls for. "Is that what you're going to do? Rally your fans? You should." Her tone has taken a lighter air to it and Natasha stares off with a thoughtful look before she reaches out, spreading her hand across the air as if envisioning a sign in neon lights. "Food for Fabio. I think that could really work." She grins, then, looking at Derek and biting the tip of her tongue at him to let him know that she's only teasing before biting her bottom lip to keep herself from laughing on top of it.

"It's a good idea." She says it with an apologetic tone. "If you can get support from the actual citizens before approaching the Computer with your data then you've got another benefit to the morale angle if you're going to integrate it. The more support you can get the better, you should try anything you can."

Derek nods. That's what he's thinking, too, exactly. Their morale is up from tonight and their bodies are being more thoroughly nourished through actual food rather than coked up soylent, so the performance will be up from today's and yesterday's logs. "Yeah, 'Friend' Computer offered to put more shit in the soylent when I suggested it wasn't nutritious enough and I had to change tack because that's the fucking last thing we need is more shit in the soylent. Because it's not bad enough. So yeah, good call."

Though when she continues, sounding amused, Derek's eyes narrow with frustration. "I was thinking more Steve's fans, or all of us collectively, but when you're finished being cute about it, maybe you can look at it the way I am: people are talking about us — all of us. They want to know us, they want to be like us, they want us around and they like us. They can't all be lower level citizens if Steve is Mr. #27 or whatever those stupid posters all over the place boast. So we cater to them. You never know if someone way up the chain might think they're in love with you," he says, frowning and looking rather annoyed at her teasing. "So we exploit their interest. Make them useful."

His eyes shift away from her again and he's still put out that he's not entirely sure she's taking him seriously, but as far as Derek is concerned, the fact of the matter is that those stupid chat logs are anonymous, or at least they have been up to this point. For all they know, someone at the very tip top has been squealing like a school girl in them and once they feel they've been noticed and appreciated, they might be inclined to bend some rules just for their favorite Special, whoever he or she might be. Quite frankly, Derek is hoping that the favorite is not, in fact, him.

She does look tired. Alcide's kind of worn out too. Adrenaline wouldn't be a problem if he had his wolf. But now he actually gets worn out. He can't say he cares for that very much. But at least he's in the same boat as everyone else. As horrible as that is, that so many here have had a piece of themselves ripped out, he still takes comfort in not being the only one.

"No one better to be stuck with." He barks a laugh and finds that he can't really disagree with her about the girls he's been with. Alcide is always all in. The girls he picks are not. That makes for very one-sided relationships until it all falls apart. Every relationship is like that. "My current girlfriend back home, Sookie, she ran off to her ex right before I got here. I was tracking her when I ended up here. I always knew she still loved Bill. But you know, can't always tell the heart no. Doomed from the start, I guess. Now there's Buffy, and I don't even know what the fuck that is."

That's another thing alcohol and the loss of adrenaline does. It makes a person introspective. He isn't looking for an answer, just... throwing these confessions out into the void as he holds Zee close. Whatever this friendship is between him and Zee, that's the one thing he's sure of.

"Maybe they will. Although I don't think it'll be too often." Because as much fun as they had, he thinks this was about putting them in their place, or showing them all the things they don't have and could have if they toed the line a little better.

It's a shame, sometimes Zatanna thinks, that she's so much younger than he is, because if they were closer in age, she thinks he'd be kind of perfect for her. They get along really well, they seem to be largely of like mind, and unless he's having her on, they find one another attractive. It kind of stinks that he's so used to crappy relationships and she's so used to exactly no romantic relationships but they can't even scratch the itch for one another. Get it together, Universe.

She wrinkles her nose and tilts her head to look up at him, vaguely away of how close his scruffy face is to her forehead when she does. "Well, then Sookie sucks," she says matter of factly. Like it's common knowledge. Like she has any place to call out people she's never met and might not ever meet, for that matter. She gives him a facial shrug of disapproval. And then he goes on to talk about another girl, one here, and Zatanna's heard that name from him before, even though she's still never met her. "Why don't you ask?" she wonders aloud.

Zee nuzzles herself a little closer to him and closes her eyes as she continues. "There's only one way to know what the thing is and that's to ask, Al. You — hic want me to do it for you? I'll totally ask her, if you show me which one she is when I'm not drunk so I'll actually remember," she offers, slowly opening her eyes again and looking sleepily up at him. "I've never had a boyfriend," she confesses abruptly. Her eyes close again and she frowns. "Closest I ever got was giving Robin a kiss on New Year's Eve back home but nothing came of it. I don't know why. I'm really nice, I think, don't you think I'm really nice?" Her eyes open again; it's like she's blinking very, very slowly, and she sounds a little sadder than she'd like for him to hear, but it is what it is. He's Al. He's not going to judge her. "And I'm not M'gann pretty but I'm pretty, kind of. I'm okay, right? I'm not disgusting or anything... ...right?"

Ahhh, and now the slippery slope down the depressive end of a buzz as it starts to settle into her a little too comfortably and the giggly portion is sloughed off. "You know, you'd think if they wanted to keep their Citizens happy or whatever, instead of wasting money on all those stupid Happ—hic—HappiTime pills, they'd just let us wear clothes, give us real food, and have a day off now and again. I'd be a heck of a lot more happy just for that, wouldn't you?"

Needless to say that if there weren't the age gap and he hadn't already fucked Buffy into a wall and somehow formed feelings for her in the process of trying to make that right, this evening would have been a completely different story with a different ending. Because everything about him and Zee clicks in a way that would definitely lend itself to that as far as Alcide is concerned. And when he falls, he falls fast and hard and completely.

Her response is everything he would want his best friend to have. Even if he doesn't think Sookie sucks, it sucks that she led him on the way she had for years. The rest though, he quickly shakes his head. "Cause she's got somebody she's with back home too. And I've been down that road repeatin' history again and again with women with one foot out the door no matter what I do. It's alright. I'll get over it." And by it, he means Buffy. And Alcide has never been very good at getting over anyone.

"Come on, pretty girl. Let's get you to your room." After putting the cork back in the champagne bottle, Alcide uses his suit coat as a bag, getting all the corners of it to carry the bottle and the cream puffs. He puts Zee's shoes in the dress material and does the same with them. Then he easily lifts Zee into his arms and caries her out. "Yeah, I'm not sure the Computer understands happiness, not real happiness anyway."

It doesn't take him long to get her to her room where he deposits her carefully onto the bed she says is hers. He kneels next to her bed and slips the heels and dress under her bed along with the champagne and his jacket full of cream puffs after taking two of them to take with him. Alcide leans over her and kisses her brow. "Sleep it off, Zee. Tonight was a great night. See you tomorrow."

She offers Zatanna a genuine smile, the kind that she doesn't give all that easily. But the girl seems to understand what Katniss wants without the need to vocalize any of those words aloud. She appreciates that because truth be told, Katniss feels a little foolish. There's no selectivity when it comes to food. Not in the life she's lived. But having her mind played with again, especially now that Prim's here, isn't an option.

"Thank you," Katniss whispers as she moves to the cream puffs. If she's going to eat, there's no harm in having dessert first. "Do you want any?"

It's much the same reason for her. Prim wanted to go and even though her roommate had paid for her ticket, Katniss wasn't going to let Prim go without being there to keep an eye on her. So long as Prim's having a good time, Katniss is too. She's been watching her sister enjoy herself. Ready to step in if someone shows just a little too much interest in the younger Everdeen.

Sacrificing a few seconds of her vigilance doesn't mean that Prim will die again. This isn't the middle of a war. Her sister won't die. One dance. One dance can't be the end of the world. So she lets him lead her to the dancing area and she rests her free hand on his upper arm. After so many winters passed dancing the night away with her sister, dancing is something that comes naturally to her.

And she even smiles a little when he explains why he's here. "My sister. She really wanted to go."

"You got your sister here." That's surprising to him. He hasn't met anyone who has family here, that he knows of. He thinks about his own sister and isn't sure whether to be glad she's not here or wishing she were here given the current state of their home world. "That's nice, also probably a lot'a stress and worry."

He notices the ease with which she dances. He isn't quite so good as that but he makes do alright. He's kept his promise of not stepping on her toes, at the very least. Alcide is gonna count that as a win.

"I mean, if my sister was here I'd probably be on her like white on rice." He clarifies his statement. "Can be a bit over protective of her that way even though I'm younger."

It's sweet. He's sweet and Buffy likes Alcide more than she should, especially with a boyfriend back home. That being said, she can't help but react to Alcide this way. She's currently trying to ignore the rush of warmth that always seems to accompany Alcide.

"You're in luck. I'd love to dance." Her smile is bright, tugging at the corners of her mouth. "I warn you though. I only know how to do the swaying thing."

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Page 11 of 13

Daycycle 116 [ November 13 - November 26 ]

daycycle 116

[Nov 13 - Nov 26]

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