OUR HOUSE

[saltwaterlungs]

CHARACTERS: Phil, Dimitri, Darcy, Ruby, the Venom Symbiote, and you!
DATE: June
LOCATION: The farmhouse on 499 Winter's Avenue
SITUATION: Home-making and housewarming
WARNINGS: Usual warnings for all characters involved but otherwise n/a

I'll light the fire, you place the flowers in the vase (Closed to phil/dimitri/ruby/venom)

Moving out of the Oak and Iron has been on Darcy’s mind- well. Virtually since she got to Pumpkin Hollow. But with Phil back and all, they started making plans for it in earnest. A combination of saving up and mysterious brass from some old dude fairy (??? she isn’t asking too many questions) means that they have the means. All they have to do is do it.

The week prior to the housewarming is spent working in and around the construction of a couple of new rooms, subdivided up from the old floor plan. Paint, wallpaper, fresh fabric to reupholster some of the furniture, a lot of cleaning. Plus there’s the logistics of moving all their stuff, which is significantly harder without cars and on an island that’s bigger than one ship. Darcy doesn’t even have that much shit, it just all stacks up somehow.

She spends her time mostly between generally assisting the move, setting up the kitchen, and putting her room together once they’ve finished building it. Darcy can be found doing any of those three things.

Rest your head for just five minutes, everything is done (Open)

It’s not going to be the shindig to end all shindigs, but once the dust has settled and everyone’s recovered from moving everything around, friends and family will get a call inviting them over. All the windows are open for the mild Summer night air, the curtains drift a little in the breeze, and the song of crickets can be heard from anywhere in the house. The lights inside the house are warm and cheery, and seem to beckon you in, the shadows around them seeming… darker, somehow.

There’s lemonade with some Phil-made ice cubes in it, and Darcy hasn’t moved from the kitchen in service of making canapes to feed anyone who shows up. Cold cuts on bread, sandwiches with cucumbers left over from the carnival, small fish cakes. It’s a good way to break the kitchen in. When the food has been made, Darcy sets up out the front on the porch, curled up with some lemonade on one of the chairs, looking out into the night and making some small greeting to anyone who approaches.

Life used to be so hard, now everything is easy cause of you

[wildcard!]

Comments

[abhorrently]

It is her, and in a few strides, Fever's near, looking, making sure - it's you, it's really you - before she breaks into a grin.

"Took you long enough to catch up, hm? You've kept more than a few of us waiting."

[not_the_last]

She would reach out to take Fever's hands, but Fever's still holding the little plate.

"So I've been hearing. How long has it been for you?"

[abhorrently]

"Few months, actually. A good number of us got gathered up when spring started, and it's been adjustment since then, with other stragglers showing with time. You included, though do tell me - you didn't wash up like you were shipwrecked, did you?"

Setting her little plate aside, she can devote her attention fully to Cass.

[not_the_last]

"No, nothing of the kind -- did you? I came aboard a ferry, with Crichton and Okie. It's been longer for us -- I don't know how, but I went home, and they came with me."

(It's impossible to mistake the heartfelt joy and relief in her voice when she says home.)

[abhorrently]

"Crichton mentioned that, I met him but I couldn't find you - he said you were there for a year?"

The amazement is clear in her voice.

[not_the_last]

"About that long. Maybe a little longer. Time gets strange between planes, all the literature on the subject says so -- what has it been like for you here? Aside from 'more pleasant than the ship,' everyone seems to be agreed on that."

[abhorrently]

"Strange in comparison to either of my other lives. Getting settled into things like a job feels so..." She gestures with her hand, trying to explain how inscrutable it is. "It's a relief to have tasks again. Actual things I can do every day."

[not_the_last]

"What sort of work are you doing? I'm still looking for employment, myself."

And what a perfectly ordinary conversation this is turning into. Cassandra finds a plate of canapes and takes a couple, to nibble on while they talk.

[abhorrently]

"I'm working for Town Hall, actually, as one of their clerks - I mostly handle files and the like."

Which is a dramatic change, to those who knew her before, but one changes as one would.

"It's a lot of details, but...I like it."

[not_the_last]

"Mm. There's something satisfying about having everything written down and knowing where it is, I find. Not to mention having enough time and peace to do it in."

It's still startling when she thinks about it: Whitestone has been at peace, interrupted by the fear of war only once, for over two years.

[abhorrently]

"Were you at peace, back home?"

And does she know that she's given it up by coming here, if that is so?

[not_the_last]

"Mostly. We had ... an incident, at my brother's wedding, but that wasn't at home. Someone with a personal vendetta."

She can't remember how much she's told Fever about her family history, or whether the name of the man with the grudge would mean anything to her. All things considered, she's just as happe not to name him.

"But aside from that, it's been fairly quiet since I returned."

[abhorrently]

"I'm glad for you, then. Not about what happened at his wedding, of course - though I'm sure it's all resolved if it's just an incident - but about the quiet. That you really had that. It's in your bearing, and your voices."

It's something that was worn too thin now being repaired, allowed to heal over time to its proper strength.

"You wear peace well, Cassandra."

[not_the_last]

A faint misty blur rises in her eyes, and she smiles, blinking it away.

"Thank you. So does Whitestone. I wish I could show you how it's thriving."

[abhorrently]

"Don't take it personally, but if that's to happen, I hope not too soon. I've barely found my feet here, after all. Let a woman finish one complicated problem before she dives into the next to come."

Barrier first, everything else later.

[not_the_last]

"Oh, I can't argue. I do want to get home, but ... it helps, to have some assurance that I will, if all goes well."

A pause. "Has there been any progress, on the problem in question? I've only just gotten the general idea of what the problem is."

[abhorrently]

"I'm not entirely certain on how much has been made, there are a few inquiries I'll still have to make at some point. But, that said, it's a bit dour of a subject to really get into right now."

Which is her concession to where they are. There are times and places to discuss this information, but not here - not when they're trying to celebrate being a degree more free.

"Tonight, at least, is peaceful enough that my biggest problem is determining which of the little dishes to eat first."

[not_the_last]

"The fish cakes are quite good," Cassandra says gravely, "if you're soliciting advice."

[abhorrently]

With an equally grave nod, Fever looks at her with a solemn expression.

"I'll be sure to keep your wise advice in mind."

How long before Cassandra realizes this is a bit she is trying to do to lighten the mood a tiny bit, who knows.

[not_the_last]

A few moments ago, in fact; she's already participating.

"I'm pleased to hear it. Many have considered me a helpful counselor on the subject of party food. I try to spread my expertise where it will do the most good."

[abhorrently]

"So many could learn from your thoughtful consideration, and more hosts should consult with you on which snacks are ideal. It would avoid so many...lackluster offerings."

She imagines Cassandra actually in such a role, and it is a testament to her skills in deception that she does not laugh.

[not_the_last]

"Indeed," she says seriously, "indeed."

There is, just barely noticeable, the tiniest twitch at the corner of her mouth.

[abhorrently]

They're in their unflappable solemnity.

And then someone moves a chair in the background, a little scrape of wood on wood, and Fever can't help it, she bursts into giggling. The soap bubble of the situation has popped, and she laughs from joy, joy to see her friend again and the entire situation.

[not_the_last]

And Cassandra's laughing too, all her poise gone like that popped soap bubble; shoulders bending, one hand going out to clutch lightly at Fever's forearm as though for support.

"Gods," she manages after a moment, "it's so good to see you."

[abhorrently]

On reflex, her other hand comes up to cover Cassandra's, Fever taking deep breaths to regain any composure at all.

"Likewise. Walk with me for a moment?"

To catch their breath, but also so she can speak more lowly out of the range of their hosts. Even Phil's hearing will be compromised, with the number of people talking and the various things to do.

"...I really thought we'd never see you again. Up to having a memorial."