He did the monster mash! [party thread]
[OOC: I know there have been a lot of posts lately, but this one can be tagged from now until whenever. I just wanted to get it up this weekend. It technically happens Sunday evening. There has been advertisements up in the journal and around the Kashtta. Non-Kashtta residents can come too! Costume is not required though remember, you can feel free
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Oh, who are we kidding? She's been glued to the candy buffet since she got there.
So now there's a small, flitty zombie in a torn Smiths t-shirt and a skirt full of safety pins running around like a hamster hopped up on crack. Or a Babel hopped up on sugar. The sheer amount of candy corn (and candy pumpkins) this girl has consumed is enough to make the rest of the room sick.
And she's just discovered the candy apples as well. Though she's putting even more candy on top of the sticky stuff covering said apple, mostly because she grabbed the apple while she still had a handful of candy, and then needed a hand to do something, so she plopped all the candy on the apple.
She's mid-chomp when she spies Iris -- or rather, the back of Iris's head -- and squeaks. And then bounces right over to flop over the back of the couch backwards. So all of a sudden there's a bloody, rotting punk girl right next to you, Iris, with a mouthful of something. Which she actually finishes chewing and swallows before talking, for once, mostly because otherwise it'd be nearly impossible to say anything for all the syrupy sugar in her mouth.
"You should be glad I do not eat wings." The words are still a bit too fast, given all the sugar she's had. "You would be in trouble."
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Iris almost jumped out of her skin, Babel. One minute she was watching that poor guy's sister get eaten by a zombie on-screen-- she's just about used to the fact that movies aren't real, but she can't imagine how they could have faked that one-- and the next, you threw yourself down next to her, covered in what Iris dearly hopes is fake blood and looking like, well, death.
She stares at the girl dumbly for a moment before the familiar energy crashes over her, and she works out what's going on. "...Babel?"
She's still wide-eyed and clutching her heart, even after she gets a sense of her. None of the costumes here so far have been particularly scary, and admittedly at this point she's sort of expecting them, but it's always a shock to be interrupted by a zombie when you're watching a zombie movie.
"Please don't eat wings," she says, looking alarmed at the very thought. Her back muscles twitch, as if she can pull the fake ones in, away from the possibility of hungry Babelmouth.
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"I have never run across zombies that go for wings," she says. "Brains are the usual delicacy." She headtilts at Iris for a moment, still chewing. "Though sometimes shoulders are fine too."
And now she is going to pretend to nom Iris's shoulder. As a proper zombie should.
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"So I hear," she says, with a shaky sort of smile that's gradually growing firmer. She does like Babel, an awful lot, and she's really glad to see her again, even if she did just give her the fright of her life. "About the brains, I mean. Not that I've ever run across any actual-- eep!"
She's squealing and laughing, now, trying to squish Babel's head between her face and her shoulder, as the girl dives in to fake-chew on her. Thankfully her shoulders are fairly heavily padded, or this would tickle an awful lot, but she's anticipating the tickle, so she squeals anyway. "It-- haha, it's-- it's good to, heh, see you, Babel. How's it, how's it going?"
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And then she giggles a little bit more, to match Iris's. The other girl's laughter is contagious, like the atmosphere here in general. She can feel everyone's happy -- and, of course, there are some that aren't, this being Chicago, but they are the minority -- and that plus the candy have put her into a great mood.
It's nice to feel Iris's happy, not just her broken. "It's shiny, everything is steady beats," she chirps. "Are you?"
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She's also glad to hear Babel sounding a bit more like herself. She'd been noticing that she was actually speaking perfectly intelligibly there, for a while, with none of her strange word choices, and was a little thrown by it. Iris likes the way Babel speaks. It's all flowy and soothing, so easy to melt into.
"Mm, I'm pretty shiny," she says, taking a bite of her own apple. "Steadier now. Found my ground." She smiles at Babel, then tilts her head briefly at the word choice. She knows she's heard her use that word before, but she doesn't think she's ever asked her to clarify. And she's curious.
"...What is it you mean? When you talk about 'beats'?"
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"Good good. Must keep you shined up like a penny," she says, then takes another giant chomp out of the apple.
And spends a good deal of time chewing said bite and thinking about Iris's question, afterward. Well, not so much thinking about it as avoiding answering via candy and apple nommage. But she does finally have to swallow her bite. "Can feel everyone's song, pulses through my bones," she says, tapping her sternum with the candy apple and then realizing belatedly that that was a bad idea. There's fuzz on the caramel now, which she starts to studiously pick off. "Always beats."
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"That... that makes sense to me," she says, nodding, having to stifle another laugh at Babel's little mishap. She doesn't intend to laugh at her; it's just that it's so adorable. So like a deity, to not really understand interacting with the physical world.
"--I can feel people, too, sometimes. Like a rhythm, like you said. Like a song." She closes her eyes, fills herself up with the idea, lets it catch in her heart. "When I listen carefully."
It strikes her, just then, that Babel might know the answer to the question that's been bugging her. "...Babel, it's never real when they die in the movies, is it?"
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But she knows it's not true; Iris isn't like her. She knows it. She just keeps hoping that maybe someday she'll meet another like herself. "It hurts," she says, sadly. "Always there, and always hurts."
And then Iris is providing a distraction! She can roll with that. "No, no," she says. "When you die in the movies you don't die in real life." She takes a contemplative bite of the apple, and then adds around the bite, "Unless it's a snuff film, but those are illegal."
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She's always thought it's pretty nice to feel people, to be honest. So many interesting lives. So many interesting threads, interweaving and entangling and winding through the hearts of everyone and everything, binding them together in an eternal web. But then, Babel does feel things she can't. Maybe she feels the shadow-places in people, too.
"Ah," she says, taking a bite of her own apple and licking small sugar flakes off her lips. Covering fruit with candy really is one of the best ideas humanity has ever come up with. In the food department, at least. "That's good to know. So it's like-- like that time when I was in this weird sort of game, and I died, but I wasn't really dead?" She realises, belatedly, that Babel possibly doesn't know what she's talking about. "...Was I the only one that happened to?"
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