multiversallogs | open post ● we're about to get up and burn this floor

Entry tags:

open post ● we're about to get up and burn this floor

Who: Everyone.
What: The Grand Re-Opening of the Gravity Falls Station.
Where: Babylon.
When: Veerdi to Sukkardi.
Notes: Party post!!! Go nuts y'all.
Warnings: Probable alcohol (and drug?) use. Flag stuff in subject titles if it needs a warning and I'll edit it up in here.

It's clear from the first moment anyone even gets on the Skyrail tonight that the Stratosphere Entertainment Group's pricey investment is going to pay off - every rail car is crowded with people decked out and excited for the event. To natives of Baedal, the idea of a holiday is days off work, maybe some camping - escape is alien, a little frightening, and completely thrilling. Even when the Gravity Falls station had hosted other venues, it was nothing so ambitious as to capture the imaginations of the city as a whole. And to immigrants to the city who no longer have the luxury of even simple trips out of town - well, it's priceless. A bittersweet but suddenly vital excursion.

Doors open just as the sun begins to set, the light reflecting off the water of the ocean illuminating the great floating platform as if the entire sky was on fire, before slipping into deep purple then black, the ceiling of their experience dotted with brilliant stars. Staff members wrangling the hazards of the first night are anxious but excited, kind and helpful even if they end up frazzled by the overwhelming turnout. There is security, all sporting neon purple shirts with lion logos, but even by their own admission, they're only there to breakup fights - and even they're smiling all night, too.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"I'm not going anywhere," she tells him. "But don't feel obligated, if you're meeting friends or anything."

"I came alone." He smiles at her. "But even then, I wouldn't feel obligated. Don't worry."

He dresses quickly, donning jeans and a purple dress shirt that he leaves untucked, the top two buttons undone. There are black boots, too, but those he leaves by the deck chair as he rolls up the cuffs of his pants. And then he's back at Blink's side, feet back in the water, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt as he talks.

"So can I ask--and it's okay if the answer is 'none of your business'--why your friends call you Blink?"

She considers, and then figures showing is easier than telling. Pulling her feet out of the pool, she stands up and says with a small smile: "Watch carefully."

She opens a small portal, maybe two feet across, just behind her and steps backward into it, like a confident diver stepping backwards off a board. She drops out of sight, the portal closing behind her.

Almost instantly, another opens across the pool from where Jim is sitting, about seven feet up, and she lands lightly on her feet. She gives him a cheeky wave, and does the same trick again, falling out of sight opposite him and then landing lightly back where she started.

By the time she's at his side again, there's an awed smile on Jim's face. "I get it. Blinking in and out of existence. That is really cool."

His admiration is genuine; he's not putting on a show of pretending to like a xenian, he really, really thinks that's an awesome thing to be able to do.

"Is this a common ability where you're from, or are you unique?"

She can't help returning his grin. "That in particular? Not common. I know of one person who can do something kind of similar. Mutants in general though, they're pretty common. People's powers tend to be unique to them." What she's showed him isn't nearly all of what she can do, but she isn't about to show a stranger all her capabilities on the first go.

She sits back down next to him. "It's a genetic mutation that manifests differently in each individual." And caused, indirectly, the war that tore her world apart, but that isn't something she'll get back into without prompting.

"That makes sense," Jim replies, and while he's still grinning, his tone has gone a bit more thoughtful. "Genetics are what make every person unique from every other person; it follows that mutations would have just as wide a variety."

He's more than just a pretty face and a swiftly-advanced command officer.

"Right," she says with a smile. "So the other mutants I know," knew, "can do all sorts of things I can't, but none of them can really do what I do either. It makes it important to work as a team."

There's part of him that wants to ask her if needing to work as a team was a necessity brought on by needing to fight for freedom--the tactician in him, ever seeking information, ever wanting to see the entire picture. But that's a pretty heavy conversation for the middle of a party.

"It's been my experience," limited because he's only been a captain for such a short time, but still, "that the strength of any team can be found just as much in their differences as in what they all have in common. Especially in how they forge bonds through those differences or learn to work with what the others have to offer."

"True. I didn't always get that, when I was younger, but none of us could have survived very long without each other." Some people still didn't survive, but that definitely wasn't party conversation.

"It's just the same here, when I go foghunting with other people now and then."

"I don't think any of us gets that when we're younger."

--He says, entirely serious, like he's not still young himself.

"And it serves me, well, too now that I'm in Hellsing. It's a skill I wish more people could grasp."

"Some of us just have to learn the hard way," she says with a wry smile. "I remember getting more than a few angry lectures."

He nods; he recognizes himself in that statement, too. "And I was a real jerk. I don't think I got it or even gave any real thought to anyone past myself until I joined the crew of my ship and we had to figure it all out in the heat of battle."

"Well. It takes a big man to admit he was a jerk, all those many years ago."

Now she's teasing him.

That gets her a knowing grin.

"What if he can admit he's still a little bit of a jerk even now?"

She laughs. "It's alright, I won't tell anyone. I didn't have many friends back home who were saints, you know."

"I know saints are held up as the ideal," Jim confides, "but sinners make for better stories, when history's being written."

"Is that how you identify yourself, Captain?" she asks with a bit of a smile. "Or are you taking other people's word for it?"

He shrugs, full of good humor. "I try not to take too much stock in what people think of me. But there's no denying there's a certain image people have. And there's also no denying it's grounded in at least a little truth."

He's maybe not quite the danger-loving, swashbuckling, lady-loving figure rumor has him cutting... but it's not entirely unfounded.

"Well, a saint would probably be less fun to talk to. And a saint definitely wouldn't help me get a drink that's a strange color and more alcohol than sugar."

She feels a bit like she's pretending to be someone else. But that someone else is having a good time, so she'll keep going for now.

"Now I can definitely do that," Jim agrees, "whenever you're ready."

"Ready when you are, captain," she says with a small grin.

He chuckles, sketching out a mock salute with two fingers. Jim takes a moment to get his boots back on, and then he rises to his feet, offering her a hand to help her up.

"Main bar or the lounge?"

She takes her hand up, considering. "...lounge." And before he can let go of her hand (or otherwise respond), she blinks them both there.

He's momentarily stunned to find himself in entirely different surroundings, but once his brain catches up with his eyes, he breaks into the biggest grin.

"I see where traveling like that has its advantages." And is just really really cool, besides.

She can't help but grin back. Sure, she was showing off a bit, but she'd been so thoroughly trained that her powers were just for fighting that she's still exploring using them just for the pleasure of it. "A bit flashy," she says, releasing his hand, "but it saves gas? Or it would, if we were living someplace with more cars."

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