NEW YEAR'S BASH

[piper90npcs]

Who: Everyone
What: New Year Celebrations
Where: The Rig
When: December 31st/January 1st
Warnings/Notes: Possible drunken revelry, smooches, language.

After everything, it is the end of a long, hard year. Free from Christmas decorations, new ones fill the hall. Snow's still present, and the New Hires will have had time to curse the daily shoveling of the walkways, but in certain areas of the Rig, green onions decorate doorways. Streamers and banners are all over the place. And people are already drinking and making merry, despite the earliness of the day.

They might regret this later, but they don't yet have 2020 hindsight.

Also, with some actual, honest apologies from ol' Dick Washburn, a combined Christmas/New Year's feast is held for the New Hires in their dorm. Yes, there's a dull sheetcake, written with their names (poorly spelled) on it, but there's also stew, a roast turkey, honest to God decent serving sizes... Apparently, it seems, the kitchen staff had found out that the New Hires had been cheated, dealing with missions over Christmas, and had nearly revolted until they got permission to put together a feast for them. Which may be why there's a load of cupcakes, noodles, pasta makings, and everything else that're usually grudgingly held out as treats.

Someone's set up a tree, too. Granted, it's aluminum, but it's decorated. There's a little Jorgmund ouroboros in place of the star as well. Underneath it, the Secret Santa presents. And whatever presents the New Hires might have begged, borrowed, or stolen the money for. And it seems that the corporation also has little gifts for everyone.

Jorgmund may be a heartless machine. But it seems that some of the people who grease the wheels have hearts after all.

Comments

[credit_not_blame]

Stacia continues steering this Garou parade toward a patch of plant life that is, conveniently, low-growing, sturdy enough for someone to lay down in without doing irreparable damage, and large enough that a short person could in theory roll around on it. Because she asked nicely and Bunny was willing to make that happen, because he's good and kind and thinks she's cute.

Listen, rolling around in plants is important when you're a creature of nature imprisoned in a metal tube.

"It may not be the correct holiday for it, but thank fuck for Bunny, am I right?"

[ragefeathers]

"He's a good sort of spirit. I think he's kinda afraid of me though," Kenzie says as she flops over into the greenery. She tugs at Stacia as she goes, urging the other werewolf to join her.

"Sweet Mother, I just wanna get out in the world again. 'm fucking tired of being in this fuckin' box."

[credit_not_blame]

Stacia obligingly flops down with Kenzie, half on top of the older girl because it's a smallish patch. Even Bunny can only wrangle so much for them.

"Well, he is a rabbit spirit," she says. "A burly one, but rabbits aren't known for being unbothered by pissed off wolves. He was pretty freaked out by me when we first met, too."

She wiggles a bit to make herself more comfortable, then sighs. "Lilly would have loved him. Don't get me wrong, she'd have been vibrating with the desire to chase him, but I think she'd have been utterly enchanted too."

[ragefeathers]

Kenzie wraps an arm around Stacia. It's warm and sisterly, affectionate. There's a shuffle and Kenzie presses her face into Stacia's hair after a moment. She takes a deep, shuddering breath. She stays quiet while Stacia speaks and there's a long, drawn out silence after Stacia finishes, only the sound of the hydroponics systems and the creaking of the rig invading their space.

"Yeah. Lydia would've thought he was an amazing spirit. Tia would have wanted to chase him, one hundred percent," she murmurs. How rare for Kenzie to be something akin to quiet.

[credit_not_blame]

Stacia leans into Kenzie's hold, melting bonelessly against her in the way she'd learned only after she'd gotten comfortable with her Lupus-born peers.

"Bares-His-Fangs would have been annoyed," she says with a little laugh. "Humans going and over-complicating a perfectly good rabbit spirit. I tried explaining Easter to him once, but he wasn't having it. But he liked hunting for eggs. I told a couple Cubs to ask him for help so he'd have an excuse to do it without risking his Red Talon dignity."

[ragefeathers]

"Red Talons are dicks anyway," Mackenzie insists with a bit of a drawl. The cuddling will continue until morale improves.

"Tia was a lupus, but... really chill. Like, not spaced out but just... everything rolled off her back. She was a good one." Her voice catches a little. Fuck. The drink is making her emotional.

"...Miss her."

[credit_not_blame]

Stacia snorts. "The only tribes who aren't assholes are the Children of Gaia and the Bone Gnawers, and that's why they don't get any respect."

She hums softly in acknowledgment and nuzzles against Kenzie. "That sounds like a valuable skill in a Garou. Low Rage, I'm guessing?"

[ragefeathers]

"You're not wrong about that," Mackenzie mutters, laughs. She turns her head and nuzzles back at Stacia, burying her face against the younger girl's hair. There's comfort in the grass. Comfort in the embrace of someone who gets it.

"She was a Lupus, you know? And a New Moon. So she was chill. Just liked to ask questions, sniff things out. She was sharp. Really sharp. She was the first one..." Kenzie trails off and there's a faint dampness against Stacia's hair. Mackenzie holds on tighter.

"...First one who noticed something was wrong."

[credit_not_blame]

Stacia reaches up to stroke Kenzie's hair. The angle is a little awkward, but it's not painful and this is important.

"Yeah," she murmurs. "We're good at that. 's why we do so much scouting."

She pauses, thinks, weighs her words.

"She'd have been glad you got away, I think. That any of you got away."

[ragefeathers]

Mackenzie can feel tears starting to eke their ways from the corners of her eyes and feels a hot burst of shame and guilt coming with them. She clings tighter to Stacia, her breath hitching at the words Stacia has to say to her.

"I shouldn't have. I should have been the one--the only one--I should have stayed there with them--" I should have died with them. I would rather have died with them rather than feeling like all of my limbs have been lopped off at one awful blow. She's starting to sob openly, if quietly, into Stacia's hair.

"I should have fought harder, Stacia. I should've...." Should have died. Should be dead with the rest of them because it hurts too much to think anything else is possible or desirable.