Piper 90: Mods (
goneawaymod) wrote in
goneawayworld2020-04-17 08:20 pm
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Entry tags:
- #rig logs,
- +intro log,
- +sheetcake party,
- adora,
- alloran semitur-corass,
- brainiac 5,
- bunnymund,
- catra,
- dave strider,
- gadget hackwrench,
- guts,
- jack spicer,
- nora valkyrie,
- robbie baldwin,
- ronald mcdonald,
- ronan lynch,
- sam winchester,
- saturday,
- setsuna higashi,
- stacia novik,
- ✘ cayde-6,
- ✘ ciaphas cain,
- ✘ doreen green,
- ✘ elsa,
- ✘ emily grey,
- ✘ kevin ingstrom,
- ✘ peter parker,
- ✘ phosphophyllite,
- ✘ remus lupin,
- ✘ ryotaro dojima,
- ✘ saint-14,
- ✘ sirius black,
- ✘ steven universe
SHEETCAKE PARTY #1

SHEET CAKE MEETUP

“Who the fuck is Linda?”
The question pops up every few minutes, a little tack of punctuation above the offensively-inoffensive music being piped in*. The room the hires have been ushered into is clearly just a conference room, with a layout that requires either sitting at awkwardly-spaced intervals around a giant table or milling and scooting around the smaller folding table, where the “big surprise” the corporate officers promised them is on display: a sheet cake.
A sheet cake that that still bears HAPPY BIRTH DAY LINDA in blue icing across the top, although someone has, at least, gone to the effort of writing welcome, to the team new hires in Sharpie on a purple flashcard and used a Popsicle stick and tape to plant it like a dismal flag right in the middle of Linda’s “DAY”. Dedication aside, the cake itself looks pretty suspect too, not as if it were poisoned but more like if it were salvaged. The cake part looks dry, and the frosting seems strangely...sweaty. No one’s eating yet, and yet there’s already a piece missing.
However, there’s no lack of enthusiasm around the room. A projector hooked up to a laptop casts an off-center, warped rectangle of WELCOME TO, THE BEST TEAM. NEW HIRES!! onto a wall. The many paper plates have a festive print, although they all seem to be Christmas themed. The table cloth looks as if it came from both 4th of July and potentially a war, given the scuffs and tears. The shot-glass sized paper cups are inadequate to hold a satisfying amount of sparkling cider, but at least they don’t leak. There are many more plastic knives than forks, which could prompt some hires to give in to their animal instincts and just use their hands, or perhaps start a barter economy for the better utensils.
“I’m so jealous,” a corporate employee keeps saying as she ushers hires into the room. “We haven’t had a good party in this office since Kelly’s baby shower, and that little girl practically has teeth now!”
(An eagle-eyed hire may suspect that the box of donuts next to the sheet cake might have come from said baby shower, on account of the fact that the few stale hunks of donut remaining have Pepto-Bismol pink strawberry icing and that there’s still the paper envelope for a gift card with ITS A GIRL written on it.)
Most of corporate slips out after the hires get set up - this is clearly an event for the hires to do some “team building” and work on “rapport” in addition to filling their bellies with cake that tastes remarkably like sand. There’s a karaoke machine in the corner, but hires are instructed not to touch it because, as an employee points out, last year’s Christmas party demonstrated that karaoke is the worst thing in the entire world for morale (“in any world! even before this one got eaten away by the bombs!”).
There’s an additional big glass jar filled with scraps of paper, which the hires are informed are filled with prompts for ice breakers and activities in case the party needs a pick-me-up. Any hire who investigates will find that most of the ice breaker activities start with three benign questions (“what’s your name?” “where are you from?” “what’s your favorite animal?”) and somehow, always a fourth question that feels a little invasive (“what are your feelings on unions?” “under what circumstances would you kill an innocent person?” “do you use the same passwords for all your accounts?”).
“Please enjoy yourselves and all the desserts Jorgmund has generously supplied you with,” one of the employees says on her way out, “and don’t worry about making a mess, janitorial gets paid too much to sit around as is.”
*All music that can be summarized as ’grocerycore’.
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"Hi," she says, for lack of anything else. There's an awkward moment of silence.
"...how are you?"
Sure. Yeah. Perfect.
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"Why do you care?"
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"Because if you don't want me to ask, I won't."
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Someone miiight want to break this up before Jorgmund decides this isn't going to plan?
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"Hey, what's up?" she says, stepping up smoothly with her cup of horrible juice-flavored water. She needs a prop, dammit, and lighting up in a closed room full of people is just bad form.
"Who's this, Catra? Don't think we've met yet, I'm Saturday," she says to the other girl.
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"I didn't say that you-"
She pauses as Saturday steps in and she blinks.
"Uh, I'm Adora. Do you know Catra...?"
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"Saturday, this is, uh. Adora." She doesn't answer Adora's question though, merely crossing her arms and staring away from the other two for a long moment. It's not like she wants to be back to yelling at Adora, but she doesn't know what else to do except be hostile.
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That's an understatement, but that's the point. In her experience with the ganger kids, they picked up what you put down; be calm and they kept calm, get heated and they blew up. And when you got right down to it, everything was gangs, just sometimes they used nasty words instead of bullets.
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"She told you about us? And the Fright Zone?"
Her gaze darts to Catra, looking a little more curious than anything.
"Yeah, it wasn't fun. What else did she tell you?"
She's fully expecting that Catra told Saturday how awful she was and now she's going to have to worry about fighting someone else.
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"Oh, and she talked a little about the poral business but, uh - no offense, Catra - she seemed to understand that about as well as I understand the portal business I've been through, which ain't very well. Somethin' about being caught in a stable reality bubble and needing to get back to your primary physical plane?"
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What if Adora thinks 'portal business' means something else?
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"...something like that. Our home planet was trapped in its own pocket dimension by Mara for... good reasons, honestly, but that's a long story."
She glances at Catra, eyes narrowing a little.
"And yeah. I got picked up as a baby, too. A lot of us were."
i did not realize i would not get alerted to responses not directly to me sorry sorry!
She leans up against the table. "Sounds like your story's as interesting as mine."
it's okay!!
"I don't need your help," she hisses under her breath.
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No, that's stupid. She frowns and glances away, trying to focus on Saturday.
"It's a long story is what it is," Adora sighs, "There's almost too much to explain."
She keeps an eye on Saturday, "So, what's Catra told you about me? Horrible stuff, probably."
She's prepared to have to watch her back around the both of them now.
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"Ah - a bit about that Shadow Weaver character. Some guy named Hordak. You two have a lot of history, seems like."
Saturday is really wishing she'd gotten a description of Adora off Catra before all this; it would have made sense of hold off and let them try to work it out. Oh well. She rubs her chin thoughtfully.
"Anyway, I don't see how it means much here. We're all in the same leaky boat."
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"You don't have anyone from back home to weigh you down or tell people about how awful you are, either."
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But Catra is already off and running, and then Adora chimes in and Saturday's brain record-scratches.
"Wait, I thought Hordak almost blew up the planet?"
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"I." What is she supposed to say? How do you even explain it? Now, removed from the events even Catra isn't sure.
"I..." The energy and fight seems to drain out of her as she speaks. The anger and intense, never ending nerves replaced with a ferocious anxiety, a fear that she is broken and bad and all the things she is told she is.
"It was his machine. I turned it on." As if that explains it.
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"Did you know it was gonna destroy the planet?" She even starts to reach for her smokes, then stops, because they are still in a closed room full of people. This is, she's decided, clearly a Jorgmundr plot. "Actually just - both of you, start at the beginning. One at a time. Hordak wanted a portal open so he could phone home; the portal ripped the world apart. He didn't seem to know what it would do aside from reaching his people, did either of you?"
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"I knew - we both knew! I told her and she decided she was going to turn it on anyway!"
She's committed to this now. She's honestly still deeply hurt by everything Catra has done and despite that, she still does care about her. She just doesn't know how to sort out all of her messy feelings just yet.
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"I knew and I still did it." Because I didn't want her to win again. It had been stupid.
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"So if you knew it was gonna rip apart the world, why'd you turn it on anyway?"
reasserts original order
"I wanted her to lose for once." There's a grimace. And that's true, though it's not the beating heart of the issue.
"I wanted her to know what it felt like to be weak and powerless and afraid." I wanted her to feel like me. Catra doesn't say that out loud. It would be too much, too raw and too vulnerable in the face of Adora's judgement.
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