salon

[in_extremis]

WHO: Esteemed, invited guests (everyone).
WHERE: The greenhouse
WHAT: A party! And not the kind of crime that the Agrii commit. Come show them how it is done.
WHEN: During a very long and slow space trip.
WARNINGS: Mark your threads if you get into trouble.


pre-festivity...network?
[Over the shipwide broadcast system that everyone is lucky Tony has not made more liberal use of, accompanied by gently dimming lights as though signalling intermission was coming to an end, and Act II was about to begin.]

Your attention, please. Please give me attention. You're not doing anything important, I know you aren't, so if you would kindly make your way to the quote-unquote 'Green Room', the rest of us are waiting for you.

Wear something that makes you feel delectable.

[Did he have to say it like that? Of course, he's trying to set a mood.]

the event
The atmosphere of the Green Room, which had at other times been a battleground, and a quiet resting place, was what could be called a soiree. Some of it was magic, brought to brief reality by Billy to disappear as the get together came to an end like carriages into pumpkins as their clock ran out, and other things were altogether different kinds of illusions. Like the tree Cayde had worked to fell, hauled up off of the ground to brace in the branches overhead, its dying boughs slouching down toward the ground in winding tendrils that were strung with glittering lights, a fragrant curtain around the area conveniently cleared by the destruction of the tree to give plenty of room to pull a partner into a dance. The music, naggingly familiar to those who called Earth home but distinctly synthetic, was playing through the broadcast system, loudest near the clearing and progressively softer the further away from this hub, but continuous throughout the ship until it felt like a whisper from another room at the farthest points like the cargo bay.

The noise competed slightly with the raucous beckoning of the karaoke machine installed near one end of the Green Room. This corner felt like it hadn't quite received the dress code, dotted with balloons and nearest to what could be described as a sundae bar, with what looked like all of the right textures for a very indulgent ice cream experience. The Agrii were more than happy to help with the food, so be prepared for a less obvious flavour profile.

More (potentially?) savoury options were offered throughout the Green Room, in no centralized location but spread across tables that had obviously be borrowed and dragged from throughout the ship, flanked by equally mismatched seating, flat-enough surfaces, or piles of linens and pillows where the ground was less even. Some of these tables had a datapad left on them, locked to a curious list that could only be checked off and not otherwise tampered with, at least for those not particularly technically inclined. Each item seemed to describe a person, all following a similar format in various levels of complexity, starting simple with, 'Someone with hazel eyes...'

One of these datapads, on a table tucked under a heavy lattice of vines and under the drape of what looked like approximately 40 metres of a sheer silk, started the evening much more blank, only marked at the top with a bold WHAT WE KNOW. That was a broad statement. Surely, everyone had a little of something to contribute to an article like that.

Comments

pre-party // for the twins

[in_extremis]

It wasn't that Tony had somehow deluded himself into thinking he was good at running his whole life. He did know that Pepper and Rhodey ran the company more than he ever did, and Jarvis ran the house, and Tony mostly was in charge of making sure he occasionally got some sleep, and wasn't great at that, either. But if there was one thing he had plenty of practice at, he thought, it was putting on a show. Throwing a party should have been second nature; he had that mask on practically every time he talked to someone. Party planners were for busy people putting on large events, it was a problem of scale.

This confidence was gone by the time he was calling Tommy to join him in the mess hall, where he had pushed a few tables aside to the mild annoyance to the few Agrii that lingered there at this hour, and dumped a handful or iridescent plastic shards that could have looked like glitter onto one of them. This was not a party. This was nothing. "I don't have the right perspective," he said to Tommy, standing pensively by his poorly decorated table, one hand on his hip and the other in the air, trying to capture the correct line of thought. "This is about bringing people together. Sharing. I'm an only child."

[doubled_speed]

Frankly, any time Stark was going to make time for Tommy, he was going to be there. Even if he wasn’t trying to get Stark to teach him things, he Was still an Avenger, and when told to show up, he did. So here Tommy was, appearing in an instant, his presence and the way it affected the air in the room blowing some of the pathetic confetti away.

“Have you tried standing on your head?” He asks. Clearly he’s not serious, but he asks it anyway. Still, he is silent for a while until he finally tilts his head to the side and shrugs.

“Listen, I’m an only child too, even if I spent some time with the Kaplans and Billy’s younger brothers.”

Still, he doesn’t much know what to say.

“What are you trying to achieve?”

Eeevent with surprise guest? OTA

[deal_me_in]

The disembodied voice that had made its announcement over the main systems certainly hadn't sounded official in any way. It reminded her of how Cayde would abuse the Tower broadcasting system every so often for things like when he misplaced his Sparrow. The parting words had definitely brought up questions.

Unfortunately she had enough of those, and far too little answers. The ship she'd found herself in was of unfamiliar make and design. The four-limbed pink creatures she'd found in abundance were not Fallen and their language resembled nothing of Eliksni. So when a voice had spoken up with actual words she could understand, some hope bloomed. While she'd argue she was doing very important things, this happened to overlap such interests. People were gathering. People that might have answers.

Pulling up a map of the ship's layouts was easy enough once she'd accessed the computers in that unique way that Ghosts do. She made her way with haste, cutting down corridors and around corners until she came upon the aptly named Green Room. For a moment she simply stared, and for all that she had no particular facial features, one could practically imagine the dry look it would have held then. Her vertices twitched slightly as she took in the scenery, a tiny, star-shaped being just about as long and wide as one's hand, dwarfed by the greenery surrounding her.

Sundance!!!

[seeingscarlet]

Wanda's taking a little breather - it's not a huge crowd, but she still needs a minute to try to sort through the psychic feedback and let it pass over her. And it's then when over the edge of her cup she catches sight of a...well, she doesn't really know what to call it. A droid?

Whatever it is, it definitely looks aware...or Wanda's about to look like some kind of complete idiot talking to the decorations.

She approaches cautiously, not quite sure of the little droid's intentions or whether or not she should expect it to be able to understand her or speak. "Hello?"

[theladyofwinterfell]

Sansa doesn't particularly want to go to a party but it is a change in routine so she's at a party. She has a dress, because she always has a dress, but it's one of her modest ones from home and it's in black. She'd favored black in Westeros over the last several years and she imagines she needs to favor it again - black is her mask, part of her identity now. Still, seeing what has actually been done to this room makes her think she ought to have gone lighter, possibly floral. James wears a onesie and busies himself with tugging at her hair.

The datapads have descriptions on them and she looks through a few before she finds "Someone who is a mother" and she knows it belongs to her. There's no other mothers on this ship.

"At least I'm known for the one thing if nothing else," she says, hitching James a little higher on her hip so she's more comfortable. "You seem to define me now, little prince."

[seeingscarlet]

This wouldn't normally be Wanda's thing but being left alone with her own thoughts sounds even worse, so here she is. She's wearing one of the dresses she picked up on their 'vacation,' made of a fabric that can't seem to decide if it is gray or lavender or pale blue. She could have picked something more formal, but she can fight in this dress if she needs to.

She doesn't think she'll need to, but she doesn't feel safe here. Not when someone or something snuck in and stole (or is it kidnapped?) the singing core right under their noses.

But even that doesn't diminish the massive soft spot she has for Sansa and James. Laughing, she comes forward and sweeps Sansa's hair back over her shoulders, away from the Baby Danger Zone. "There, that's better." She grins. "All of these lights and he still wants your hair."

[plate_builder]

"I don't know," Reeve said as he moved to join the woman, a Sundae in one hand and a datapad peaking out of a suit coat pocket. He knew he was on there as 'Someone who really enjoys sundaes' and possibly under a few different things as well.

"If I had to summarize you, Sansa, I'd say a woman who was strong and self-possessed. Though your little prince would get his own distinction."

[in_extremis]

In a rare moment of straying away from his protective table, padding a very curated path through a soft, grassy strip to pass a hawkish watch over the gathering before he retreated again, of course Tony overheard Sansa's voice. His cold consideration softened into a smile. "You know, I really didn't think that one through," he replied as he slipped up to the table she lingered at to lounge against it, chin up to try to peer down his nose at the datapad she held. "I thought it would be much more mysterious, like you weren't obviously going to bring James with you and give it away immediately. We could dress him up, make it look like you're just carrying a bouquet around." He only grinned then, head tilted cheekily, before properly greeting Sansa with a soft, "Hey, mama bear."

OATS I mean OTA

[rage_on]

Raphael wasn't sure what to make of the invitation. It sounded suspicious enough to him. But then it was also Tony making the announcement. He had no idea what the last part was supposed to mean, and it wasn't like he owned much by way of clothing anyway. People clothing definitely wasn't sized to consider a shell. It wasn't something the turtle teen dwelt too much upon, and he eventually made his way to the Green Room, if only for curiosity's sake.

The last thing he'd expected was some sort of party set-up. He hadn't really ever been to one outside of the family celebrations they had back in the sewers, and those weren't all that decked out. It was nice to hear some music at least, even though his tastes were more for heavier tones and beats, but it made him realize the things that were taken for granted back home.

He almost laughed in disbelief of the karaoke machine that occupied one area of the green space, but what really drew his attention was the sundae bar. "Cool. Wonder if Catra's around," he mused aloud as he looked around for the catgirl. It was difficult enough trying to explain ice cream, but if this was for real, it'd be better to have her experience it for herself. "...I just hope it doesn't all taste like peanut butter and jelly."

[beholding_archivist]

"Christ, I swear if even this tastes of peanut butter and jelly I will-" Comes a potentially familiar and certainly currently not too pleased voice from a nearby Archivist scowling down at the little cup of ice cream in his hand.

He doesn't finish the sentence, however. Instead, Jon releases an irritated huff and raises his eyes to the turtle and adopts a somewhat apologetic expression. "...sorry."

You rang?

[heeeyadora]

"What, you miss me all ready, Shell-boy?" Catra purred, seemingly appearing from nowhere and giving an amused laugh. "This party's not half bad. It's only the second one I've ever been to, so it's not like I have a lot to compare it to, but...not bad."

Event || ota

[beholding_archivist]

Delectable. That's not a word Jon would ever even consider for himself. Not that he owns anything to justify such a description. The clothes he has arrived on Agra 10 with are clearly worn down after all these months and what he picked up on Risa has been similarly in functionality and style while clearly alien in origin. And then there is the somewhat odd selection of clothes he picked up on their little pit stop that fall more into a comfortable vacation-esque category. Though as little as Jon tends to bother about fashion, at least he is very certain that he won't be dragging that large, red robe Tony left to him around for this gathering.

What he has settled for - or rather: randomly picked - is what may be the plainest grey sweater he has been able to find on that alien planet. Comfortable, warm and he can make various layers of additional clothes vanish underneath.

So far Jon has been wandering the setting and studied each of the datapads, unsure what to make of them yet before picking up an off-green sundae that somehow tasted like someone tried to emulate coffee with comparably little success. The attempt at consuming the treat has been put on hold when Jon started look through the list of songs on the karaoke machine idly. Which he will stop without picking anything when someone else approaches to offer the remote to them instead. "You can use it if you want."

[doubled_speed]

"I don't know, man, I'm not really a singer. And the music clashes with what I helped put together."

Tommy, always prone to not being there one second, and absolutely being there the next. Today was no different, and he was frowning intensely at the karaoke machine. The damn thing offended him in its very presence. They had asked the Agrii for FOOD, not awkward social interaction boxes.

"I'm more here for the sweets. Anything to keep the metabolism up, you know?"

OTA hi what am I doing

[on_repeat]

Echo keeps the helmet on. It's mostly out of habit due to being out on the front lines in combat, but a small part of it is lies in a feeling of security despite the fact there are no threats around. Also because he doesn't want to get 'sloppy' and stray from the regimen he's been used to doing. Although he still wears his full suit of armor, he has (thankfully) left his blaster back on the Bishop just so things stay peachy keen.

He's not exactly sure why he heeded the voice broadcasting over the ship's network, nor does he understand what the speak means by feeling 'delectable,' but he figures he'd check to see what's going on. Partying is not what he does on a regular basis, and the Green Room's decorations are deeply scrutinized.

Eventually the clone works his way around the room to get a better feel for the ambiance. The layout is odd, but the datapads are the first items to get his attention. Information. That's where it's at. That is, until the sundae bar draws his eye and somehow reroutes the beeline for the datapad-laden table.

[plate_builder]

Welcome to the sundae table, population one older gentleman in a black suit, with a black and white bipedal cat-doll sitting on the table by him. The man was carefully constructing something resembling a sundae, and when joined by Echo, he offered... Well, he was going to nod, but instead he looks a bit shocked by the man's appearance.

"Mando, is that you?"

Forgive him, but his ability to tell apart different forms of space-age armor isn't exactly the best.

"Where is your foundling? Sleeping?"

[out_of_order]

While still unused to the idea of a party, Cal at least knew that those who'd be present would be faces he knew, not that he'd any idea that was the sort of thing that he'd be walking into when he and BD-1 stepped into the Green Room. He'd figured it would be a surprise either way, given who had announced the thing.

Smiling faintly as he took in the decor, he glanced at his little droid pal who beeped excitedly at the new additions to the surrounding greenery. Naturally both their dress codes were pretty much the usual, but BD-1 had not come across any fun mystery crates that might contain interesting castoffs for Cal to make use of, and the padawan himself tended to dress practical. He wasn't sure fancy wear would suit him anyway, and the Jedi, while they taught one to be neat, did not really impress upon high fashion.

The odd pair strolled past the tables, eyeing the food, but it was the one table with all the drapery that BD-1 expressed interest in and made a beeline for, Cal at his heels. It seemed a bit much for one tablet, but surely that meant some significance as he came up to it. BD-1 had already jetted up onto the table and was peering at the screen. He hooted up at the padawan as he tilted his squarish head.

"Maybe," Cal conceded, folding an arm to prop the other up as he stroked his chin. He laughed at the beeps to follow. "Well, you could, but you've scanned a lot of plants."

[doubled_speed]

"Always more plants."

Well, what do you know, speedy boy shows up just as they do. Okay, so he's been here a while, but he's at the table and leaning against it, grinning stupidly, once the two are there.

"Hey my little Beady One," Tommy grinned, offering a fist for the droid to bump. "Heyo Caliente. Enjoying the party? I helped you know. I'm just that talented."

Clearly he was doing a bit better since the last time they had talked.

Reeve Tuesti | OTA

[plate_builder]

New note to self: don't show too much excitement to any idea proposed by Tony Stark. One cheerful hope for a party, and all of a sudden, there was a party. Not like any Reeve had been to in a long time at that. But the man, dressed in a suit because he'd managed to bring one with him that hadn't been ruined by work, was happy enough.

All throughout the affair he moved around. One moment he was staring longingly at the dance floor and turning away. Another he was making sundaes. Yet another he considered the karaoke machine like it was a strange beast ready to lash out at people. And toward the end, well, there were balloons and Mini seemed amused by them, so he was busy not only tying one onto the cat doll's arm, but then setting up a belt of ballast in the form of rocks to keep the doll from floating away. Which Mini seemed to ADORE.

Through most of it, though, he wandered around with the ice-breaker datapad, because that was what he realized it was. Collect people. Right now he was working on 'had been to space before the Agrii took them', 'has never been kissed', 'once lied their way out of a ticket'.

Truly, the esoteric ones were far more fun. But anyone he could approach to mark off the easier ones was just as welcome.

its ya boy

[in_extremis]

The karaoke machine might have been an unfamiliar construct for a number of reasons, up to and including the fact that it seemed to be an entirely Earth import and didn't have much in the menu selection that Tony didn't recognize as from his local star system. That transformed it into a very different game to play with people not local to its selection, but not one that was any less fun, Tony thought, as he carefully approached Reeve, head tilted with a sly grin to try not to interrupt that very troubled expression that Reeve considered the machine with.

Unfortunately, he would have to end that loop eventually, and did so as he sidled close and muttered, "There's the guest of honour." Almost as charming as the concerned expression: of course Reeve had a suit at the ready. It gave Tony something to do with this tie that Billy had thought was necessary somehow, and Tony had salvaged the magicked look by discarding into his pocket in the meantime to open his collar instead. He produced the roll of red silk to offer with a grin and said, "You'll get more use out of this than me."

Come at me

[tempredmental]

Keith wasn't sure what he had been expecting, but okay. This worked. He'd slowly been getting better at parties, but he still ended up placing himself kind of "over there" away from most of the crowd with the purpose of being able to handle one or two, maybe five at most, people at a time instead of everyone all at once. He was wary of the food... thanks, Agrii... and was definitely wary of the karaoke. He'd been dragged into that drunk once before. Not that he was a bad singer, but he wasn't a fan of performing in public like that.

The datapads, though... that was a curious idea. He wondered if it was just some getting to know you exercise, or if someone was gathering data of the residents to use later. He stared at the one on the table in front of him for a moment.

Someone with a pet

He supposed he qualified... In fact, one of those pets was curled up on the floor near his feet... a fairly decent-sized blue wolf that was no longer a puppy, but not quite an adult, yet.

Coming At You Bro!

[doubled_speed]

"Tony and his ice breakers," Tommy grumbles. One second Keith's alone staring, the next Tommy's sitting on the table in front of him, datapad in his hand, kicking his feet as he clicks the check box before turning it around and wiggling it at Keith's face.

"Look, I got one. Provided your Amaze-pup is still around."

[beholding_archivist]

Jon for his part has yet to fully grasp the point of the datapads. He'd be more intrigued if they had any actual data on them, but like this? Well. They exist.

Just as that apparently blue wolf exists that catches Jon's eyes as he crosses the room with no real destination in mind. It's enough to make the Archivist stop and consider the animal for a moment before looking up at the young man he can only assume is the owner.

"He... Doesn't bite, does he...?"

[heeeyadora]

"You think we get a prize or something if we find all these people?" Catra asked with a nod to the datapad she carried, eying the wolf with a wary eye. Her tail gave a small twitch behind her, not especially eager to get too close. "That's yours right? It didn't just wander on?"

For the stragglers // OTA

[in_extremis]

Everything about this party had been out of the ordinary, so it did follow that Tony's experience of it would be atypical as well. He was here as it began, by necessity, instead of arriving fashionably late, and hadn't swept out at the first opportunity, leaving him still sitting at the ivy covered table well after most of the guests had grown bored of the offerings and bowed out. He might have managed the more typical departure, too, only he typically didn't leave a party alone, and by the time he had glanced around the room that was starting to feel too loud and exhausting, Jon had already found someone else to walk him home. Instead, Tony lingered, watching Reeve where he could and hoping the whole venture hadn't been a waste, until it was clear that he was going to leave this room on his own anyway. Incrementally, he retreated more into this silk draped table, watching the datapad that was generously full of some agricultural information that Tony really hadn't intended it for. He could stick around to do some rudimentary clean up, and maybe by then most of the Agrii would have gone to sleep as well and he could spend some time alone with the engine, and he shouldn't interrupt Jon with a good night text because it wasn't like either of them were sleeping anyway.

By then, Tony had stripped out of his jacket and left it hanging on an abandoned chair, rolled up his sleeves and slowly toyed with the datapad, putting shorthand notes that weren't nearly as effectively distracting as he hoped. Slowly, he slouched down until his chin was on his folded arms and he was tapping idly with one finger at the notes, too wrung out to try any more to bring together a solution to the disparate puzzle pieces he had.

[beholding_archivist]

It's a mug of steaming tea that is set down on the table in front of Tony's nose.

Tony should know better than to assume Jon would find himself anyone to walk him home. He had left the gathering at some point, indeed. It has been noisy and Jon has hardly felt at home and he may have been trying to spot Tony, the man just had been nowhere to spot.

And yet it's true that Jon isn't one who could have simply gone to bed. Rather, he has gone and walked a round through the ship until he found himself at the hangar bay where their ships still waited. Their ships and along with them his tea. It's with that tea filling one of his thermos and a mug he has eventually wandered back to the Green Room, finding it much less occupied as before. But, to his own surprise, he also actually found Tony.

"And here I had given up on finding you today..." He muses softly and sits down on the empty chair next to Tony. "Do I need to walk you to your room?"

OTA

[happybeeps]

Delectable. That certainly set a mood. Not that there were a lot of options to chose from in the clothing department. But Poe figured delectable was really something that came more from the attitude than the clothes themselves.

The party was a welcome distraction, one Poe was happy to lose himself in, beckoning a curled finger to the nearest body to welcome them onto the dance floor with him.

"Come on, don't leave me hanging."

[tinygreen]

Was this guy beckoning her to the dance floor. Pidge raises an eyebrow before glancing back and forth. To see if there was anyone else.

"I don't think you want me dancing."

She's not known to dance like a normal person would.