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

[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."

[not_the_last]

She falls into step beside Fever, keeping their hands linked.

"I feared I'd never see any of you again either. I'd hoped at the very least you were all somewhere safe, either home or somewhere else you'd chosen to be, but ... I couldn't know."

[abhorrently]

"If some of us got collected earlier, and you got picked up so recently...there's hope for the rest of us, right? At least, for those of us who would rather be somewhere else."

It's the simplest answer to a complicated problem. But she doesn't want to break the mood by lingering on painful parts.

"You know more than you did now. That counts for something."

[not_the_last]

"Yes," she says, firmly. "I think that's one reason I don't feel quite as ... as panicky about being here."

(Unsaid: in comparison to the Serena.)

[abhorrently]

"It's a contract, too. Services rendered, services paid. And I don't know if you heard about one of the boats moored in the harbor, but they can get through, back to where you came from." A pause. "They can't take anyone, or bring anything living, but...it's proof that things are still out there. That the promise of going back is real."

[not_the_last]

She nods, understanding -- though the fear that things might not still be out there is one that never troubled her.

"I wonder if they could find the things I had on the ship. There are a few I'll miss -- did I ever get to show you the box of snow?"

[abhorrently]

"No, never - though now you have me curious about it. It'd be worth asking them about it. Oh, but do be prepared. The captain speaks half in puns, but he's pleasant enough."

That he's a living skeleton doesn't cross her mind to mention.

[not_the_last]

"I don't mind puns," she says truthfully. "Though the translation effect can make them very strange sometimes. The box ... it was magic, of course, but I have no idea what it was for. It was --" She gestures with her hands, delineating a rectangular space in front of her. "About so big, and full of snow. And no matter how much snow you took out of it, it stayed full."