HALLOWEEN PARTY

[striderswag]

CHARACTERS: exitvoid
DATE: ( Oct. 31st (day 17) )
RATING: starts out PG, but threads may become individually rated higher. Gonna ask that if it goes over PG-13, please mark it or take it to a journal or somethin'.
SUMMARY: KERNOS may not provide a standard Halloween party, but Striders don't disappoint.

Comments

SNACK BAR

[partnerinheels]

[Who brings guns to a Halloween party and makes it work with her costume? This bitch right here. Sheva is not about to go willy nilly around this island sans firepower, never mind the occasion.

For now, she's keenly surveying the guests with a glass of deliciously alcoholic punch in hand.]

[femshep]

[Punch similarly in hand, Shepard's leaned back almost casually against the table, though really she's just as watchful as Sheva.]

Can't believe you got me into something without individual legs.

[But eh, she doesn't sound too terribly mutinous about it.]

[partnerinheels]

Don't fear the breeze. Embrace it. A little circulation down there will do us both good.

[Somehow, she's entirely deadpan as she mentions this, sipping her drink casually. Though she does sneak a glance over in hopes of catching a reaction.]

[femshep]

[At Sheva's comment, she can't help but snort, although she tries to suppress it as best she can. She's giving Sheva a look, trying so hard to look disapproving but the corners of her lips are curling up which makes the disapproving part not so convincing.

After a second, she shakes her head and takes a sip of her own drink.]

I circulate just fine, thanks.

[After the fact does she realize the many ways that statement could be construed, but y'know, she really doesn't care too much right now. Might be the punch. It also might be the fact that this is the most light-hearted thing everyone's really done since she got here, and the mood's a tiny bit infectious.

She lifts her drink, eyeing it but without too much worry.]

Someone always poisons the drinks, at parties like this.

[Another sip.]

[partnerinheels]

[She can't really hold back her smile any longer, especially when Shepard's attempts at disapproval fail dismally.]

It's supposed to be spiked with alcohol.

[A sip.]

My recommendation: a little less punch and a little more of the spike.

[Military women are difficult to impress in this matter. Her opinion doesn't stop her from taking a hefty swallow from her glass.]

[femshep]

I'll second that. [She glances around to casually see if anyone's paying too much attention, then smoothly dips her cup back in for more punch instead of screwing around with that ridiculous decorative ladle. And then she takes another drink.

Another look around, too. Dryly:]

Just when you think you know who to point your gun at around here, they put 'em all in costume. [An almost amused exhale, and the tiniest smirk.] Figures.

[partnerinheels]

[Sheva herself nearly snorts at the ladle circumnavigation. Somehow, she maintains composure.]

Now that you mention it, I haven't seen your boyfriend with the nice ass around either.

[A raised eyebrow indicated that the statement could be interpreted as Shepard wished. A joke, a jab, a loosely framed question, a general concern, or e. all of the above. However it's taken, Sheva means no ill by it.]

[femshep]

You said 'boyfriend' again. [Disapproving Shepard is definitely disapproving. She hates repeating herself but there are certain things that Brian is definitely not and 'boyfriend' is at the top of the list. And Sheva really needs to know that. Really.

To the concern, her answer's simple.] His choice, not mine. [Because even if it had been her choice at first, she tried to make peace before the mission and he was about as receptive as a hibernating krogan.]

[partnerinheels]

My memory is fuzzy. [Lies. All lies. Shepard knows good and well that Sheva remains very aware of her surroundings, and that includes the people in said surroundings. She's just making peace without apologizing. Shepard should understand that, at least.]

Then screw him. [And drink more. Sheva herself is already filling up her glass again with the ladle (for now).]

Not... Literally though.

[Or maybe literally, sometimes that works out too. Most of the time it turns into something quite Pompeii-esque.]

[femshep]

[Any other time, she would've made a joke about it, but right now she's not in the mood. So she takes another drink of her punch and enjoys on the lightheaded tingle that comes with it.

Abruptly:] That new girl, Zoey. Whatcha got on her, anyway? [She's glancing to Sheva now.] Whatever it was had her pretty worried. Figured it'd be better to ask you than her.

[partnerinheels]

[Sheva is gracious for the change of subject.]

Not much. She comes from a city devastated by an infection, possibly a virus. [There's a long pause, where Sheva takes the opportunity to drink more as she decides just how much to say.] I think she might be infected, or more likely, some sort of carrier--Like Typhoid Mary ages ago. Pretty much infected hundreds of people with typhoid without ever getting it herself.

[femshep]

She had friends, back home. [Even through the airy buzz of the punch, she could remember that part of the conversation pretty clearly.] If she were a carrier, wouldn't they have been infected?

[partnerinheels]

Not if they were like her. Viruses... They're tricky things. [This is a good time for more punch.] Nasty, relentless killers. Maybe they were infected and not showing symptoms yet.

You know as well as I do that personal feelings can cloud the judgement of even the most battle hardened soldier, much less a civilian who possibly witnessed countless friends, family members, and familiar faces become infected. She may have had to kill them herself.

[There were many other words and feelings that she wished to convey about the situation, but she either found it too difficult or too depressing. Either way, she fell quiet.]

[femshep]

[Even intoxicated, Shepard's pretty good at reading people. She's wondering how much of this is about Sheva rather than Zoey. But she was keeping that bit of wondering to herself, listening to what Sheva had to say and processing it over another drink of punch.]

How long would it take for us to know if she's dangerous? [As in, wouldn't the virus have spread by now? Because it hadn't, Shepard would have noticed.]

[partnerinheels]

[She could possibly be projecting a few of her issues onto the parallel situation, but still, if Zoey were indeed infected or a carrier, that posed a threat to the rest of the island.]

It would vary wildly on all sorts of factors. Incubation time, type of virus, etc. If we're lucky, the fact that we all seem to be from varying timelines and worlds might keep us all safe.

[femshep]

[And this is where her ability to worry about the potential time bomb named Zoey is overwhelmed by the amount of alcohol-induced don't-give-a-fuck in her system. So she's taking a drink, refilling her cup (the same way, this time without glancing around first, she's got a nice pointy knife for whoever wants to start something over it), and heading toward a table about ten feet away with a vague hand gesture hinting that Sheva should follow.

To her credit, she's walking pretty steadily (then again, it is only ten feet away), and she sits down without missing her chair. Shepard can handle her booze, yes ma'am.]

Sounds like you had it pretty rough. [A casual comment, connected more to what's going on inside of her head than what Sheva's actually saying, and also a comment that normally she would keep to herself, but. Yeah.]