towerofanimus | (no subject)

Characters: Anyone and everyone
Setting: Cafeteria, Noon, Nov 7th
Format: Anything
Summary: A party/discussion mingle after calling a meeting of the residents.
Warnings: tba

The anonymous post on the network was an invitation to gather, discuss and share information. Maybe they would get incredibly lucky and get to the bottom of things, such as who was behind the bombings or the strange things that went on during Quarantine.

Someone has been at work down here in the dining hall, moving the tables around to create a space in the middle in case people felt like dancing. Most of the chairs are around the outside and facing the middle, for everyone to see each other better. There was another space and some chairs for musicians, and a couple of the larger tables were set up with a large buffet of normal cafeteria food (because Zo wasn't likely to poison them) and resident prepared dishes, both clearly marked.

Of course, there was always the oatmeal.

[ooc: Feel free to make your own threads and subthreads!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"...It's a n-n-nice ch--change, i-isn't it?" says the blonde man behind the snacks bar, currently replenishing a stack of finger sandwiches during one of his trips back from the kitchen. His cooking duties have made him conveniently scarce during this social event--not that he isn't looking forward to talking to Ion, or anyone else he's recognized so far--but the sheer volume of people is kind of intimidating, so he's glad for the chance to escape.

In any case, good company and making food have provided enough of a distraction that he doesn't even consider the last time Ion must've payed his older roommate any mind; that being, when he found him violently ripped apart in the middle of the floor. Obviously that's not going to be a concern later in this meeting, right?

Of course not. Certainly, Ion wasn't thinking about that when Rick's voice caught his attention. The mangled body, expression frozen in horror, red splashed across every piece of him. He didn't feel guilty at having to make a hasty exit until he was sure that the retrieval units had collected his body. Nor had he found himself staring, at times, in worry and with a churning stomach, at the bed that Rick hadn't revived in the next morning.

"Absolutely! I think it's an excellent way to start off the new month," he agrees, not wanting to think about it and knowing that Rick would surely want to think about it far, far less. His eyes move down to the work his roommate is doing, and allows himself to smile. "Did you make those?"

Ion would assume correctly. Of course, whether or not Rick doesn't mention it because it's unpleasant conversation or because he's deliberately forgotten is debatable, but probably doesn't matter. He focuses instead on what he's been focusing on all evening--the food.

"Yeah," he nods, smiling bashfully and looking away to divert attention from his rapidly reddening face. "--I-I've had l-lots of h-help, though."

There's a pause while he gives one a quick inspection.

"...H-Have you t-t-tried any? Is there t-too much b-bread?"

That, in and of itself, is a bold speculation. When one so easily forgets their own recent, violent death, they must have truly become acclimated to the horrors of life in the Tower.

"Oh, I haven't," Ion admits, looking over the spread in its entirety. Not a single pumpkin in sight--Ion wonders how many residents had jumped for joy at the menu change. "I haven't tried anything yet, actually. I just got here...I suppose I'm a bit late."

At the very least, the boy makes no indication that he's noticed Rick's bashful reaction, and only stands to pick up a plate for himself. "I'll try one now! I'm sure it's just as delicious as it looks."