goneawayworld | Let's get the party started!

Entry tags:

Let's get the party started!

Who: Everyone including YOU
What: Pride month celebration!
Where: Mess hall
When: First weekend of June, after the brain quest.
Warnings/Notes: Probably alcohol, language, might lead to sexy stuff

Ah yes, Jennifer is in pure delight. Back in her day, this wasn't a thing and now not only she, who will romanticize everything, gets to celebrate love, she gets to witness people be happy as they celebrate with her. She waves happily at whoever enters and nods towards all the available material.

There is indeed lots of booze, which one wouldn't expect from Jennifer but hey, Price helped. There's rainbow cake, and biscuits with the flags on it. Before everyone arrives she innocently asks one of the staff members in the kitchen if she can eat a lesbian one. There's a box with pins and facepaints. Some people are sporting funny or sexy costumes. She is wears her usual hairdo, but decorates it with a rose, paired with a simple white dress. She drinks her tea and is happy, and just a little bit too clueless of what can happen during these kinds of celebrations...

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Hearing Dan behind him, Price flinches and stops looking at the pins. It's like a reflex, like he's doing something wrong even if for once he wasn't doing anything.
He turns to him.

"Oh." he can't help but notice the glitter and the hickey, and he won't comment on it but he is wondering how can something so trashy look so good on Dan. "Good evening."

Price himself is keeping it simple, with a navy blue suit and black tie - the shirt is white for some nice contrast - and nothing special, really. He does wear lacey panties underneath, but it's more of a thing he did to feel pretty for himself because he hasn't had an occasion to dress up. He's not even considering the idea of showing them to someone else, people have already been bullying him enough. He just likes to think that no matter how ugly he is on the inside, he's still pretty. Well, he's trying to convince himself, at least, aging is such a dreadful experience for him and he wants to hold onto his beauty and skills before it's too late.

"Yes, it's-- ...It's a nice event."

He eyes the knife with equal amounts of wonder, confusion, and concern. He steps away so that Dan can look at the pins properly.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I'm blocking the view." he points at them "Here."

Dan waves a hand, ignoring the pins. He's a habitual pickpocket, but there's no practical use in these; the backs aren't even long enough to be useful as budget lockpicks. "Don't worry. I'm not really a pin guy. I don't even know what half the colors on here mean."

He pulls the butterknife out of the drink and sets it aside; unfortunately, the frosting in the cocktail didn't do much to sweeten it to Dan's typical diabetic coma-inducing preferences, and just messed up the texture somewhat. He looks disappointed.

Dan's still in his Jorg coveralls but, in combination with the glitter and hickie and the way his sleeves are rolled up, looking extremely casual. "Not bad fo mandatory fun. How've you been?"

Dan isn't sure if Price has been avoiding him or if it's just that Dan's been avoiding everybody - he suspects it's the latter. Dan's gotten quite withdrawn following Planker's death, down to the point of passive-aggression, ignoring people when they speak directly to him and hiding out in the training center.

Yeah, um, Price might have been involved in Stacia's plan, but he hasn't really given it much thought because why would he?

"Fine, thanks." within the limits of being hated by everyone and actively insulted and ostracized by many, that is. He's been avoiding people too, mostly because he figures it is how to avoid getting beaten up by the agents. He misses them, but he has no choice other than giving them space.

"How are you?"

He asks right back. This is awkward, and he's not sure why.

"Been better. But," Dan says, gesturing with his cocktail. "There's alcohol that ain't contraband or cooking sherry, so I'm better than I was two hours ago."

Dan, being a creature of distraction, considers a day where he gets to cruise for other horny party-goers and imbibe of various things to be a massive step up from the usual drudgery of the Rig.

He isn't about to accuse Price of being in on the murder, if there was a murder. Dan feels in his bones that there must have been, and that's why he's primarily been avoiding Stacia, alongside the others who actively planned it with him and went into the man's brain. But Price was just clean-up crew, or whatever. Dan wasn't paying close attention to the back half of the plan.

"Guess we both ain't feeling the community vibe as much lately," he concludes.

Price tilts his head at that last remark.

"What makes you say that? I--" his voice lowers to a mumble "I do feel the community spirit. It's...Nice to celebrate."

He turns to fetch a glass of vodka and downs it to distract himself. He can do it all night, he seems to have an extraordinarily high tolerance for alcohol, especially for someone with a petit body. He has never gotten drunk in his entire life. In fact, he wonders if he's even capable of getting drunk. Maybe it's for the best.

He does put the glass down in worry, though, because tonight he seems particularly sensitive to how nice Dan looks without even putting effort. The glitter just contrasts and enhances all the rowdy sides.

Price hums wistfully. He wishes he was young again, nowadays Dan cannot fit anymore in the category of interesting older men that he'd find attractive. Sure, he does find the elderly fascinating, but he misses being a barely legal teenager using his pretty face to earn favours and protection. Now it's just not the same...

Dan, on the other hand, has a very obvious reason for his well-earned high alcohol tolerance, as he kicks back the Blue Hawaiian as if it were water, having decided that it's not sugary enough to want to actually savor. The librium patch that the Jorg prescribed him to keep him from going through withdrawal is peeking out from the corner of his sleeve, stuck to his upper forearm. He follows Price to the bar and gets vodka for himself, something with a watermelon on the front that he assumes is an indicator that it'll be flavorful.

"Well, I just meant since the rest of the hires here ain't been gentle on you, and right now I ain't feeling particularly charitable towards them."

It's not anger that Dan feels, not really. Dan trying to stay angry at anything is like trying to hold a cup of water in one hand. It just slips away until there's no point in it. But he feels misunderstood, and he feels lied to and taken advantage of, and those are emotions he remembers from when he used his powers on Price a month ago.

He grabs a handful of Jolly Ranchers from a jar where they are arranged to make a rainbow flag. "You eaten yet?"

Price nods. Then he thinks over Dan mentioning 'not feeling particularly charitable'. Coming from him, that's almost harsh.

"Would you like to talk about it?"

He pauses.

"Not necessarily right now, I understand these are topic best discussed in private."

Dan sips the vodka while he thinks that over, because the truth is, when he's upset he usually just takes off and steams and distracts himself until he's left it in the past. That isn't an option on the Rig. He's so rarely tried actually talking through being upset at someone else.

"What, you think anyone's going to listen in?" He sighs. "Only if you're volunteering yourself to listen. You don't got to feel obligated to."

"You know I don't feel obligated to." he gives Dan a light smile "I think I am alright at listening."

He is great at listening, and unlike most people he doesn't judge, but he has to clarify and make it nonthreatening because God forbid he claims he's good for anything without it being a manipulation or a form or torture.

"Let's go to my room." he grabs a bottle, then thinks about it for a moment and grabs another one "Nobody will bother you in there."

Dan's not an idiot; he's aware that anything he says to Price could be later used against him, either played straight or misconstrued to gain some personal advantage Dan can't predict. But that's not all that different than venting to anyone else, Dan figures. You always have to keep some degree of wherewithal because the concept of sharing your opinions with another in secret is inherently so vulnerable.

Dan salutes with his bottle too - the watermelon flavor is, to his delight, Jolly Rancher like the candy, which means it hits his sweet spot of intoxicating and deeply unhealthy on multiple axes. "Sounds like a party to me. Lead the way."

He knows the way to Price's room - he knows the way to everyone's rooms. But Dan gets pretty far by playing clueless.

"Sure."

Price doesn't plan on using anything Dan might say against him, or at least not in the bad way. He has pushed him away many times and Dan has always refused to listen to the warnings. So he's allowed to be his friend, right?
He figures he can at least enjoy it while it lasts, before Dan decides to finally do what he should to protect himself. It's so embarrassing that it has come to this, but if at least for a bit he can have a friend, if only a friend that only cares about him because he doesn't know better, he'll take it.

"Here." he gestures to the room once they arrive.

"Mind if I sit?" Dan asks, and if Price does, Dan less sits than flops on the bed. He makes a sheepish expression as he sheds a little glitter, aware that Price is going to be finding that evidence Dan was here for months. Hopefully Price's roommate doesn't give him too hard a time.

"I'm just feeling- I'm feeling very used, and so I don't really want to be around no one. I was real clear on what I was comfortable with, going after Planker, and that killing weren't on the list, and it feels like a lot of folks nodded and smiled and lied to my face."

Price thinks Tucker won't care too much, he seems like an open minded person. Also their way to get along is to actively pretend the other doesn't exist aside from the emotional exchange of "Greetings." and "Sup." that they do every now and then when they accidentally end up in their room, or any room really, at the same time.

"It appears that they believed it to be a valuable strategy because in the long run it would have been beneficial for them and for everyone else including you as well, on a practical level. Sacrificing one or more individuals for the sake of the greater good is a valid reasoning, but what they fail to understand is that the key difference between you and them is that you don't seem to believe there are...Acceptable targets, people that deserve to suffer or die because you deem them as morally bad."

Which is funnily similar to Price, since for him everyone is a potential target but there's no such thing as 'more acceptable', just more convenient. He's just joined because destroying and cleaning up are the things he does best. It's not a big deal.

"You are the one who feels bad for killing monsters, after all. Your friends most likely hid all of that from you to avoid further suffering because this is a sensitive topic for you. While they did hurt you, they aimed to act in your best interest, so I do not disagree with them, but...I don't believe they fully understand how you feel about killing and hurting others, even if they are your friends."

Price raises his hands, he doesn't want it to look like an isolation tactic. Is it an isolation tactic? He doesn't know, he wasn't planning on it, but maybe his past self that was smarter than he is now still lives inside of him somewhere and is giving him hints on how to keep Dan close.
The only thing stopping him is that he is already in enough trouble, really.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say bad things about them. They are good people and I know you value them."

Dan listens to Price's diagnosis of the situation, fiddling with the cap on the vodka bottle. Why is he more angry with Stacia over this than he is with Price, when both were involved in this stint and both knew Dan's stance on unnecessary murder? It's because, he thinks, he always knew Price would kill if given the chance, even if it ran directly counter to what Dan was comfortable with, and he believed something else of Stacia.

He really wishes he could believe it had just been Planker's mind unable to handle the psychic load. An accident. He wishes he could be certain.

"No, it's fine. Don't give them the credit of saying they were trying to spare me any suffering. They hid all that from me because they knew I wouldn't participate if I knew it'd lead to a murder. My best interest didn't mean shit. It was convenient to lie." Dan raises his eyebrows. He lies for convenience all the time. He gets it. With the humidity of the Rig, his shirt is sticking to him all over.

"You'd just think I'd be used to no one understanding how I feel by now, no matter how clear I try to make it."

Price is surprised by that last part.

"...Why, do you believe there have been other instances of them not understanding you? Or do you mean it as a general statement?"

He shifts in his place.

"I do believe that they had your best interest at heart. They care about you. Sometimes demonstrating love is a bit..." he gets distracted by Dan's sticky shirt for a moment "Harsher than the feeling itself."

He'd know about that, he has his own special way of showing the freelancers how much he loves them. They won't let him anymore, though. Which makes him need the Director even more, in a place like this the ranks would be blurred and Price has plans for the eventuality of him showing up: 'everyone is against us but I will always be by your side no matter what, sir', 'I am yours to command, sir', 'nobody else knows our side of the story, we only need each other, sir' and much more that would lead to the Director opening up and giving him ~~orders~~ ~~a reason to live~~ his beautiful soul to feed him and fill him with all those sweet emotions that he can't feel. You know, plans. He's just so hungry for that little something, that little spark...

"General statement. Whatever." Dan usually doesn't sound so sour and exasperated - not angry, but just frustrated, frayed. He sighs and finds a place to sit with his back to the wall, taking up half the bed, and drinks.

He sighs, looking at Price. "I don't want them caring about me, you know."

It's hard enough that Bunny cares about him, and how terrible is that, that Dan sees being cared for as a source of distress? That being sincerely loved by someone is as often a burden as it is a blessing?

"It's more uncomplicated that way."

"Perhaps it is."

He wonders if Dan is actually wise in not wanting anyone to care about him. Price wishes he didn't want anyone to care about him, maybe it would be freeing. That thought leaves his mind very soon, though, because he's perfectly aware that it's just a toxic coping mechanism Dan is desperately turning to and that it's not true that he doesn't want others to care, rather he doesn't want anyone to worry or suffer for him.

Price smiles at him. He really is that special.

For a moment, Dan just looks at the cap of the bottle that he's playing with, doing little sleight-of-hand tricks with it to make it seems to walk over his knuckles, between his finger-joints. He thinks about how Price isn't committing, not in words, anyway, to actually agreeing, just musing.

"I care about you," Dan says.

"Oh!"

Shut up, no you don't, please don't say that is what immediately comes to his mind as a response.

"Thank you, Daniel, but you don't have to say that."

He knows he doesn't think that. He knows people like him, they might have a noble heart but their intentions are less than noble. They just want to make themselves look like they have it together by actively trying to fix someone they think is worse than them. There's no reason to get one's hopes up.

And even if Dan actually cares about him, it's just because he doesn't know any better. Soon he'll learn and abandon him.

“I know I don’t. And I ain’t just saying it.”

Dan cares about everyone. It’s his greatest strength and most destructive flaw. But it’s more than just ambient bonhomie that drives him to care about Price, more than just an overdeveloped muscle for empathy and pity.

“I’ll just take a wild guess here and say that you probably reject being cared for for the same reason I do. Because you don’t think it’ll last.” Dan shrugs. “If that’s the case, us having that in common makes me care more.”

It's funny that Dan said that. Price wants someone to care for him, and he wants it desperately. That reframing is perhaps just a bit too merciful.

"It's not the case." he doesn't explain any further because he just wants to placate him "...But thank you."

Another light smile, this time more awkward. Time to sip some vodka directly from the bottle.

“If you say so.” The way Dan says it, and the way he raises his eyebrows, makes it clear he doesn’t believe Price at all. There’s a focused look in his eyes; if he ever meant anyone ill will, it might be considered predatory.

Dan’s much more dangerous than his gentle disposition suggests. He’s smart, good at picking up clues and identifying patterns, and it means he can smell sensitivity like a bloodhound, means he can piece together pictures of the people he’s around quickly and usually quite accurately. He’s had to be, to survive on the margins like he has. Maybe that’s why he’s so upset at Stacia and the others; Dan isn’t used to being surprised by people, isn’t used to misjudging, and it’s threatening to have done so.

So now he’s trying together a read on Price, and there are stakes if he’s wrong. Price has his good looks that he feels are vanishing; Dan feels uncertain about the emotional intelligence he’s always needed to stay alive.

“How’s your vodka?”

"The vodka is alright."

Price shrugs. He looks down at the bottle for a moment and drinks again. He can perceive that Dan is trying to change the topic, somehow.

"So, what have you been up to lately?"

“This one’s good, if you want to try it. Tastes like candy. Don’t worry about swapping spit, I don’t backwash or nothing.” He holds his bottle out to Price.

“Honestly? Wishing I could just take off and be five thousand miles from almost everyone else on here. And keeping my sharp shooting skills honed. You have to be real calm and steady to do trick shots, so it’s good meditation.”

Price swaps his bottle with Dan. He tastes the candy flavoured one, and his face crumples a bit.

"It's very sweet."

He swallows loudly.

"Oh. Well, it's good that you are practising. Focusing on one's skills can be productive and healthy."

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