The dishes swished in the water beneath her hands, becoming clean under the bubbles, before she sat them on the drying rack to drain. Glasses, plates, cutlery, all were working their way through the cycle from dirty to clean. Her flatmates were nowhere to be seen, one in her room reading, the other at work. With limited distractions she was listening to music and letting her mind wander. She had been invited to a Halloween party and was constructing a costume in her mind. She was planning to go as Gomora from Guardians of the Galaxy, it was a sexy costume, but not so sexy as some of the Halloween standards. The ‘sexy nurse’ was a costume she particularly avoided, although she knew some of her workmates embraced the sexualisation of their career. She liked her job, but ‘sexy’ was not a word that sprang to mind in relation to it.



Swish, swish.



The mixing bowl was resisting coming clean, something sticky dried on, banana muffin mix she was pretty sure. It was while she was trying to scrub the goop from the glass that her mind turned to complimentary costumes. If she had a kid she would have dressed them up as rocket, even though he seemed to go better with Groot.



Hmm. She knew someone who looked a little Grootish. Quite a bit Grootish, come to think of it. Perhaps she could be convinced to dress up with her… Her mind was already racing with ideas of how to make a Groot costume, foam floor tiles bent into the right shape and melted a little with a hot knife, or added to with a hot gluegun was her current plan of attack. Giving up a little on the bowl, or leaving it to soak, she pulled her hands from the gloves and fished her phone from her pocket and scrolled through the contacts until she found Jacquelyn’s.



“Hey, do you have Skype?”



A few seconds passed as she walked to and closed the window, the breeze that was coming through was no longer warm and tinged with delicious smells, it was distinctly cool. She hung the washing gloves under the sink and wiped the bench down a little with the damp sponge.



“This is Zinnia, by the way.”



She had entered her details into the phone when her prawnish friend had given it to her to swap numbers, still it didn’t hurt to be polite. She turned on the kettle, it was cocoa time.

Jack could already tell that she was going to need to rework her sleeping schedule. With Chrysalis at night and Xavier’s during the day, her sleeping schedule and workout schedule sometimes took a serious hit. She was walking home from Xavier’s, back to her apartment, when this thought dawned-on her. Conveniently, it was one of her nights off, so the prawn would actually get to sleep tonight.

The prawn took her time as she walked, taking-in the sights. The winter was turning colder, now. She had long pants and a coat on, a scarf wrapped around her mouthparts. Her hands were wedged deep into her pants pockets, one of which was tucked over her phone. The sun was setting, the air would get colder soon. It would be best to hurry.

The phone reverberated in her pocket, rattling against the palm of her hand. Jack reflexively fished the phone out and surveyed the screen, weighing whether or not she wanted to answer. A text message—already, her likelihood of replying was higher. When she read Zinnnia’s name across the bar where message sender was listed, Jack unlocked her phone.

>> Hey, do you have Skype? <<

Jack squinted at the inquiry. Despite what her web-enabled phone would suggest, Jack wasn’t on the up-and-up with technology. She had a Netflix (which she avidly used), and an email (which she typically ignored), but she never had a cause for Skype. Her only real interaction with the internet besides binge-watching certain shows on Netflix was doing woodworking research.

Jack had begun typing a response, when a second text came through on her phone.

>> This is Zinnia, by the way. <<

Of course it was. Jack hadn’t taken the contact out of her phone, so she already knew that much. Jack typed a response back, clearing her throat.

< I don’t, > it read. The prawn paused, wondering the motivation behind asking such a question. < Why? > Jack read over the brief text. Maybe it was too abrupt? Zinnia had written considerably more. So, just for safe measure, the prawn added, <Good to hear from you.> and sent the text.
 

With the vacuum blaring it was impossible to tell exactly when the reply came in, the ringtone muted by a combination of pocket and cleaning noises. When she turned the machine off to change the head to the edger the gentle reminder tone let her know she had an unread message still waiting. She flicked it open with one hand while stepping on the standard vacuum head and yanking the pole out.

I don’t, why? Good to hear from you.”

There were several reasons; it was a free way to communicate, as long as there was an internet connection the messaging was instant, asking about it was a nicer way to start a conversation than “S’up?”

“I was going to add you so we can chat online, without the chatrooms full of weirdos or the distractions of BookFace. What are you up to tonight, working?”

With the smaller attachment connected she set off around the edges of the living room. Each of the housemates was in charge of cleaning the common areas of their flat entirely once a month, it was her week this week, and she had been a bit slack the last time around because of exam prep. This time she was going to do a good job.

Ding.

Thankfully the oven was louder than the phone tone, and she heard it over the motor of the hoover. She ran one more pass along the back of the couch and kicked the ‘off’ switch. Dinner was ready. Or at least, dinner was ‘check me now so you don’t burn me’. She peeked in and the layers of cheese were bubbling promisingly. The resistance to the quick stab with a knife told her it still needed a little longer. Potato bake.

Once she had wrapped the cord up and stashed the hoover she tapped on Steph’s door. After a few moments with no response she poked her head in. Empty. Apparently she was not in her room reading after all. Perhaps she had taken her book to find a quiet spot less vacuumey. Well, now there was no one to enjoy her potato bake. Unless… She slid the unlock screen across.

“My housemates have bailed on my cheesy*ss dinner, wanna come over? My plans are dinner and a movie. In a totally non-date way.”

Plus, she could pitch her costume idea while they were at it.

Jack had made it a good three blocks or so before the phone buzzed again. The reverberating in her pocket shook the prawn from her thoughts, which mostly just lingered on what she would be having for dinner once she got home. Chicken…? Or beef…?

The phone was fished from her pocket once again, and Jack unlocked it, eyes skimming the message.

>> “I was going to add you so we can chat online, without the chatrooms full of weirdos or the distractions of BookFace. What are you up to tonight, working?”

Jack didn’t even know what chatrooms were, and hadn’t the faintest interest in BookFace. Social networking was for people who wanted to keep in-touch with old friends and stay connected with new ones. Jack was a far more private person than that.

<Just got off,> the prawn reported, <No bouncing tonight.>

The prawn’s phone reverberated again as the second message sent, and a new message arose in a little speech bubble.

>> “My housemates have bailed on my cheesy*ss dinner, wanna come over? My plans are dinner and a movie. In a totally non-date way.”

Well… that would save Jack the trouble of having to make her own food. And her night was empty, anyways. Besides, she'd only be going home to a sad and empty apartment. It could be nice to have some casual friend-company.

<I’m down,> Jack replied, <Where you at?>

Perhaps it was a little blunt, but when matters of food were involved, there wasn’t time for being indirect. They were making plans, after all. The stipulation of “non-date” went over Jack’s head altogether.

As an afterthought, the prawn added, <Want me to pick anything up?>

Cocoa cupped in her hands Zinn sat crosslegged on the kitchen floor, peering through the oven glass. She had left the kitchen before and burned the meal to a crisp, so now she was a little more cautious. Now with no background noise blasting she heard the phone easily. Jac was free, and down for dinner. Awesome. Her reply was brief and sent swiftly.

“If you want anything in particular to drink, yes. We have milk, cocoa, red soda.”

She prodded again at the cheesy layer and the layers below gave gently. That was better. She had the bake out on the bench when she had another thought.

“Do you have any allergies or special dietary needs?”

It was a bit of a nursish question, but poisoning her new friend would be a bit of downer. She followed up with her address and moved to setting the table. A couple plates, glasses, mugs, cutlery. They even had material napkins in a drawer that someone had got as a housewarming gift and they were clean! She shook them out a bit to get out the worst of the drawer crinkles and plopped them unceremoniously on the table next to the plates. She was no wizard who could fold ducks out of napkins, nor fancy shapes, but at least they had something to wipe the cheesygreasy away.

The couch was mostly clear, except for a stack of textbooks which she picked up and deposited in her room, snagging the top blanket and dvds while she was there. Guardians was a must, but she grabbed a handful of other assorted movies, she was not sure about Jacqueline’s taste, after all. Once she felt that she was more or less prepared she retrieved her now lukewarm cocoa to finish on the couch while she waited for her friend to arrive. The oven was doing a good job in taking the edge off the chill, but it was going to be a cold night.

Jack had come to a halt at a street corner, leaning against the edge of a building as she awaited Zinnia’s response. Now that she’d been invited to dinner, Jack didn’t want to keep walking in one direction only to find out that Zinnia lived somewhere in the opposite direction. The young woman would simply look foolish, retracing her steps.

>> “If you want anything in particular to drink, yes. We have milk, cocoa, red soda. Do you have any allergies or special dietary needs?”

Jack mmm’ed to herself, closing her eyes. She hadn’t had cocoa in very long while.

The prawn milled over whether or not it was worth mentioning her strange sense of taste, and how it seemed to be both flavor- as well as chemical-based, and how overly artificial foods just flat-out tasted nasty to her, but it didn’t seem like something worth mentioning. Especially if someone was being invited on the fly.

<Nope I’m pretty easy when it comes to food,> Jack responded.

When the text containing Zinnia’s address arrived, Jack copied the address and input it in her phone’s GPS application, the GPS informed her that it was only a twenty minute walk. Nice.

<Be there in 20,> Jack replied, setting out.

= = =

The walk was actually about fifteen minutes, given the length of Jack’s stride and brisk pace. She made it to the apartment building and, after some pacing about and critical thinking, managed to find her way to the door of Zinnia’s apartment. Jack adjusted the scarf from its position over her mouth, and ran a hand over her antennae. She didn’t want to freak anyone out, if Zinnia didn’t live alone. The prawn also sank on her haunches, lowering herself to a slightly more standard six-foot height.

The prawn rapped her knuckles against the door, a hesitant trio of knocks, before letting her hand fall to her side.

“Zinnia, it’s Jack,” the prawn announced. She adjusted the messenger bag that was slung across her chest, surveying her feet. This felt weird. Maybe she should’ve gotten something along the way. A store-bought cheesecake? A bottle of wine? Jack hated wine, but it would have been a nice gesture. Was Zinnia even old enough to drink?

Jack was roused from her thoughts by the sound of approaching footsteps from behind the closed door, and she looked up, antennae perking slightly.

Her cocoa was finished and half of the drying dishes wiped and put away when the knock came. She flicked the kettle on and tossed the teatowel onto the bench. The rest of the dishes could wait. It was dinner and a movie time. Unless that was Steph who had locked herself out, again.

“Zinnia, it’s Jack,"

She opened the door and smiled up at her shelled friend, it was good to see her. She stepped aside and welcomed her in. The apartment was relatively cosy, from the residual oven heat, and by the look of Jac’s attire the temperature had dipped dramatically since she closed the window.

“Please come in. it looks like it will be just the two of us tonight, my housemates are AWOL. Is it cold out there?”

Hot food, cocoa and later the couch blanket for movie watching would solve that chilly issue. The kettle flicked off and she moved to the kitchen to make herself another cocoa, plus whatever Jac wanted.

“Tea? Coffee? Cocoa? Something cold? What would you like?”

She stopped herself from saying ‘honey’, because it was just too much like her mother. She assembled her ingredients and poured their drinks before setting them lightly on the table. She had already put the potato bake there, plus some green beans she had steamed to brighten them up.

She hesitated for the briefest of instances on which seat to take, but settled for the one facing towards the door, leaving the seat facing the window for her friend. It would mean they were sitting on the two equal sides of a equilateral triangle; next to each other but not next to each other, opposite but not facing. She found it was the most comfortable position when there were only two table occupants. Not that the housemates sat at the table so often, usually choosing the sectional couch and balancing the dishes on knees or the coffee table. The couch was not so delicate it couldn’t take it. It was partly why she had bought it, because it was reasonably priced on an online listing and they needed a couch. It was also the coolest looking one, and seemingly the only one without a floral pattern.

“How was your day? Did you come straight from work?”

When Zinnia opened the door, Jack released tension in her shoulders that she hadn’t known she’d been holding. Perhaps she was a little anxious about accidentally knocking on the wrong door—what if there’d been a typo on the text message?

Zinnia welcomed her, and Jack replied in-turn with a polite, “T’ank you.”

Jack ducked her head as she crossed the threshold, lavender eyes taking in the cute layout of the apartment. It was a whole lot nicer than the little hole-in-the-wall place that Jack called home. Jack’s apartment was sparsely furnished and cluttered, the apartment of one who was constantly on the move. This apartment was cute. And big… Were there multiple residents?

Jack pulled her scarf higher--

>> “Please come in. it looks like it will be just the two of us tonight, my housemates are AWOL. Is it cold out there?”

--and then tugged her scarf down, inhaling the warm air of the apartment.

“A little chilly,” Jack confirmed, removing her messenger bag from her shoulder, and setting it cleanly by the door, “Getting colder sast, doh, wiss duh sun setting.”

She undid the snaps that allowed the sleeves of her hoodie to fit over her enlarged forearms, and then unzipped the hoodie, peeling it all off at once. The hoodie was then neatly folded and set atop her bag. Jack kept the scarf, however, lest she needed to quickly hide her mouth from returning roommates.

The prawn shuffled after the young woman, her antennae flattened cautiously against her skull as she surveyed the main living space of the apartment.

“It's 'ery nice here," she remarked.

>> “Tea? Coffee? Cocoa? Something cold? What would you like?”

“I would like a cocoa, t’ank you,” Jack said, a touch too eagerly, “Iss it’s not too nuch trou’le.”

Jack lingered in the kitchen with Zinnia, quietly awaiting direction from the young woman. Should there have been no direction, Jack would simply shadow her at a reasonable distance. She ended up trailing after Zinnia to the table, waiting for her hostess to take a seat.

>> “How was your day? Did you come straight from work?”

The prawn sidled towards one of the chairs and slid it out, cautiously sliding into the seat. She still looked around as she replied, “Nnn, yeah, you caught nee on ny walk hone. All I had today was Xa’iers’s, t’anksully.”

Or else, she wouldn’t be here. She’d by high-tailing it to Chrysalis.
“Nostly pretty caln,” Jack continued, “Duh kids at duh school are nostly good. Sun shenanigans, yet no sights today. Sist sights.”

Jack smiled, shifting her weight. In her adolescence, she’d been a scrappy one.

“How’re t’ings on your end?” Jack asked, “Was your day too busy?” and, as an afterthought, “Everyt’ing looks fantastic.”

They had got a ridiculously good deal with this place, actually. She was relatively sure that someone knew someone who had pulled some strings, but she hadn’t asked. Sometimes it was better not to know. She made Jac’s cocoa to match her own and once they were settled began sipping slowly. As much as caffeine was her friend, it was nice to have a caffeine-free hot drink.

“Nnn, yeah, you caught nee on ny walk hone. All I had today was Xa’iers’s, t’anksully. Nostly pretty caln,” Jack continued, “Duh kids at duh school are nostly good. Sun shenanigans, yet no sights today. Sist sights.”

Ah, so the school she worked at as security was the school for mutant children (and adults, from what she could tell), well, that was aesthetically fitting. Zinn had been to the school once, not to study, but to run a once-off first-aid class. She hadn’t seen Jac there. She would have remembered. It was an impressive school to say the least, and the type that would benefit from having around some muscle to round up any misbehaviours before something got out of hand.

“I imagine with all the power running around there that fist fights might be the least of your worries?”

She started serving out the food as Jac reflected her question and she thought about it, dipping her head in response to the compliment on the food. She hadn’t had back-to-back placement and nursing home, so she hadn’t done too many hours, but the hours she had worked had been brutal. Summer was generally a worse season for injuries on the whole, with tempers running high and fuses short people were more reckless, had more accidents, and bled more profusely. Autumn had its fair share of damage though.

“I was on E.D. today, so lots of variety. Little kid who got crunched in a subway door. Old guy who slipped on some wet leaves and was stuck laying out for two days before someone found him. Appendixes, carcrashes, mostly usual stuff. Nothing too perculiar, except maybe the guy who had a bunch of marbles imbedded in him. He claimed a mutant woman attacked him, but who’s ever heard of marble manipulation? Guts and gore and not much glory today I’m afraid.”

She loved it, though, the good times and the bad, and she was smiling as she bit into her forkful of cheesy potato. It was pretty good, savoury and soft, with just a little crisp where the cheese on top had formed a crust. Just the way she liked it. The potatoes and green beans she had bought from the hippy vegetable co-op group that operated from a greenhouse on the rooftop of one of the nearby buildings. The onions were plain old store-bought variety. They lasted long enough that they could be, and she had found the rooftop onions just didn’t have the right size or aroma. The rooftop was relatively cheap, though, and prided itself on being poor-ganic.

>> “I imagine with all the power running around there that fist fights might be the least of your worries?”

Jack shrugged and smiled, removing the scarf that had previously covered her mouth and hooking it on the chair.

“Dey’re still kids,” she murmured, “Adolescents, no less. Dey still has duh sane challenges as duh next teenager, just wit’ an added le’el o’ dissiculty. O’ course dere’s shenanigans dat only cun wiss has-ing a recently de’eloped nyu-tation, too.”

In other words, even with powers, which brought an added layer of mayhem to an already chaotic age, the kids at Xavier’s were still kids, with lives that bore the same highs and lows typical of adolescence. Boyfriends and girlfriends, gossiping and fighting, whatever. Jack listened as Zinnia recounted her day, which seemed both variable and gory. Jack grimaced. Although she was a bit of a bruiser, and not much to look at, herself, she didn’t have the stomach for gruesome details. Had she an epidermis, her skin would have paled. Her face slackened, instead, and her brow stitched. Ugh. Whatever she wound-up doing in life, she did not have the stomach for the medical field.

“I dunno,” Jack countered, “I’s heard o’ sun weird nyu-tations o’er duh years. I wouldn’t ‘e sur’rised if dere was a nyu-tant like dat.”

Marble manipulation. It wasn’t the strangest mutation possible. The prawn rumbled a word of thanks as Zinnia served her. Green beans and cheesy potatoes. Her gaze trailed to the silverware. Normally, Jack was a private eater, and with good reason. The mechanics of her mouth weren’t typically something that most people wanted to see. Using silverware was also a bit of a challenge, both because of her massive hands and strange mouth.

Jack plucked up her fork and pinched it between two fingers, carefully using its edge to cut a polite bite of food. Her head remained bashfully tucked as Jack carefully guided the fork past her maxillipeds, and then allowed them to do the rest of the work.

The potatoes actually tasted quite good. Like the earth, and not too saturated with chemicals. It wasn’t snobbery that guided Jack’s interpretation, but the altered tasting mechanisms. The cheese wasn’t half bad, either. Jack speared a few green beans, and took a bite of those. Also very fresh and not tinged by traces of overwhelming chemicals. There was some, of course—there always seemed to be—but this was really good.

“I shocked your roo-nees are nissing diss,” Jack reiterated, taking another forkful of potato, “Is so tasty, sank you.”

Yes, even though her teen years had been relatively easy, a breeze compared with others, she had no desire to live them again. There was something about the hormones, or the teetering between child and adult, the forming of thoughts all your own, not regurgitated parental opinions. Trying to find your place in the world. No, better to be done with that chapter in entirety, and deal with the new challenges of Adulthood.

Jac seemed uncomfortable with the nitty gritties so Zinn kept the details to herself. Some people couldn’t take the specifics. It was what kept her in a job after all, that not just anyone could do what she could. So often the families or friends who accompanied someone to the hospital needed to vacate once the professionals took over, unable to stomach the gore. Even at the nursing home the details of care were often kept from the eyes of family members. Some things about getting old were simply unpleasant.

Her friend dipped her head as she ate, perhaps to keep her own specific details private. Zinn tried not to look. She really did. But she found her eyes wander to the face of her friend as she too ate her dish. Jac’s nitty gritties were not gruesome to her, instead they were fascinating. Still, it seemed rude to stare, so all her glances were stolen between her own bites. She wasn’t smiling, but she could feel the skin around her eyes crinkling. Her friend was just too cool.

Jac expressed a disbelief in their privacy, and Zinn nodded, it was unusual, but not unheard of, with each of the occupants of the house living on very different schedules. She appreciated it though, it gave her a chance to chat to her new friend without sharing her.

“Ah well, I can only cook one or two things, so they’re probably sick of it. You’re very welcome.”

She chuckled lightly. Her strengths were in other areas, but her mother swore she wouldn’t let her move out without learning at least three recipes. It was her worst nightmare that Zinn might survive on cup noodles and cereal. It had taken many minor burns and nicked fingertips to get to this stage, but now she got it right almost every time.

She moved from the table, still chewing, and scooped the movie options on to the table, for Jac’s consideration.

“I’d like to watch Guardians at some point tonight, because I’m going to a Halloween party as one of the character, but any other preferences?”

With a little luck her friend could be easily swayed to accompany her in costume. It was a movie that also had aliens as main characters, good guys, and last time they spoke that had seemed like something Jac hadn’t thought possible.

Once they were finished eating she cleared the table into the sink and tossed a bag of microwave popcorn into its namesake. There was a bowl they used specifically for that purpose stashed in one of the cupboards and with a little rummaging she located it. Their viewing would be greasy and excellent.

Jack paced herself carefully. Hungrier than she had realized, the forkfuls of food felt meager in her mouth—and it was really, really good. Had she been alone at home, she would have simply scarfed the food down without the aid of utensils. But she was in polite company. Though Zinnia was furtive in her stolen glances, Jack lifted her eyes periodically. At one point, their eyes met, and Jack could feel a hesitant crinkling at the corner of her eyes, too. Perhaps it was an apologetic smile. Maybe she was making weird noises while she ate. Maybe, despite her best efforts, Jack still was making a spectacle of herself. Eep.

>> “Ah well, I can only cook one or two things, so they’re probably sick of it. You’re very welcome.”

Well, if her one or two things tasted this good, Jack would find it difficult to complain. The iridescent mutant typically chose a much simpler meal structure—though most of her food was organic and scant in chemicals, it wasn’t exactly “cooking magazine” grade meals. She’d have a meat, a grain, and a veggie, each of which had very little seasoning and was dealt in heaping portions. To a normal person, Jack’s meals would seem bland, but to Jack, too much seasoning felt muddled to her tastebuds.

The prawn lifted her gaze once more when Zinnia got up and retrieved the DVD’s available for their viewing.

>> “I’d like to watch Guardians at some point tonight, because I’m going to a Halloween party as one of the character, but any other preferences?”

Jack was, unfortunately, very much like an old person when it came to pop culture. Which is to say, she had no frigging clue about any movies that had come out in recent years. She did woodwork, read the newspaper and an occasional trashy novel, and watched the occasional show on Netflix. She didn’t give movies too much thought.

“Guardians sounds good to nee,” Jack agreed, “I actually hasn’t seen it yet.”

As if she actually knew what “Guardians” was. Her massive hand found the DVD box, which proclaimed, “Guardians of the Galaxy” in gold lettering. The prawn picked it up and turned it over in her hand. It was by “Marvel”, so that meant it was one of those comic book movie. Hm. Could be interesting. She set the DVD back down.

Jack finished the meal soon after her hostess, and said a heartfelt thanks as well as a “It was really good.” Though Zinnia cleared the table, Jack dutifully assisted, picking up spare dishes and serving utensils, and anything else that was left behind.

As Zinnia prepared the popcorn, Jack milled about, peering at certain details and fixtures of the apartment—the pictures that were hanging on the walls, the books on the shelves. She wasn’t trying to be nosey, Jack just wanted to get a feel for the place. It was a very cute apartment.

Guardians of the Galaxy it was.

The microwave ‘ping’-ed and she shook the bag vigorously to distribute the seasoning, before dumping it into the designated bowl. Her friend was roaming about the apartment and she was pleased, it seemed she was making herself comfortable. Most of what she would find would be a mix of textbooks, mangas, novels and videogame manuals of assorted ownership. The pictures were a mix of college art, bought for less than it was worth at the university auctions, op-shop landscapes with dinosaurs added in (Steph’s hobby), and photos of their assorted families. There was a few of her family, some with her included, some without.

She set the bowl of popcorn on the coffee table and fussed with the DVD player until it was set up and playing the menu screen. She ducked into the bathroom, no point in stopping the movie partway for peebreaks, then settled into the couch and floofed the couch blanket over her legs and Jac’s. The amount of money saved by having a simple couch blankie instead of cranking up the heater was nothing to sniff at, especially for their mix of incomes.

“Are you doing anything for Halloween?”

A perfect mix of set-up and innocent question. She had seen a set of DIY instructions for a Groot costume, but knew she wasn’t the right height to pull it off. She could find it again pretty easily, she was sure, and Halloween wasn’t about having the perfect costume (nobody telling you your cosplay was missing a piece, or, god forbid, that you couldn’t cosplay a white character), but rather about having fun, getting frightened in the haunted house, and eating far too much candy.

“I’m going to a Halloween party if you’d like to come I could help you make a costume?”

Jack had found her way to the sofa and took a seat to one side, legs folded beneath her and elbow propped on one arm of the couch. She had settled by the time Zinnia departed for the restroom. The prawns’ eyes continued to sweep around the main room, finding more details that she hadn’t noticed before. She politely redirected her attention towards the t.v. screen when Zinnia reemerged.

Zinnia draped a large blanket over their laps, which earned a quiet chirr from the prawn. It was just like they were really friends, sharing a blanket, so that they could watch a movie together and share popcorn. Was this what it was like?

>> “Are you doing anything for Halloween?”

“No, t’ank-sully,” Jack said in a singsong tone, “Su’er crazy night at duh cluh… no work dat night, since I work dere so long.”

Most of the new hires were subjected to Halloween. It wasn’t nearly as crazy as New Years, so it gave them an opportunity to acclimate to the pandemonium of a holiday crowd, without the sheer force of drunken New Year’s revelers about. Although in certain regards, Halloween was worse, because the disguises that costumes offered the patrons made them more ballsy than usual.

>> “I’m going to a Halloween party if you’d like to come I could help you make a costume?”

Halloween hadn’t been Jack’s thing, following her transformation. Something just felt “off” about having people waltz around in inhuman costumes when you spent all year looking like a garish Halloween costume. That, and Jack couldn’t find a costume that ever seemed to fit her.

“Nn-nee? Go to a--“ she struggled with the word “party” for a moment, “—uh, Halloween ‘arty?” Her tone wavered uncertainly, but she didn’t say no quite yet. Jack wasn’t really the partying type, though. She wasn’t good at small talk (or even just “talking”) and she didn’t want to scare the guests. Would Zinnia really want her there, anyways, or was she just being nice.

“Are you sure?” Jack murmured, “Dat’s a lot to ask o’ sun-one, es’ecially dis close to Halloween. An’ I not usually real good at ‘arties. Make udders uneasy.”

“Nn-nee? Go to a-- uh, Halloween ‘arty?”

Her friend seemed unconvinced, and if her only experience of Halloween had been bouncing at an alcohol oriented venue she could understand why. People who got totally sloshed at parties were probably just as much as a pain in the butt for Jac who had to drag them out and call and ambulance to take them to the hospital, as it was for Zinnia, who had to deal with them once they got there. It was never fun playing the guess how much of this is fake blood and how much is real game, although it occasionally made for pleasant surprises.

Jac asked if she was sure, and questioned how much time they would have to get the costume organised. Zinn was sure, but didn’t want to push too hard too fast.

“Sure I’m sure, it’ll be a mix of people from work and school, they’re alright but not… interesting I guess?”

Most of them just wanted to dress up, hook up, then pretend like it hadn’t happened the next day. Boring!

“My costume’s done, I’m going as Gamora from this-“ she tipped her head towards the screen “if you wanted to come I reckon I could whip up a Groot costume in a day or so. Just think about it? Besides, if there was ever a party where people go nuts over how cool you look, it’d be a Halloween party.”

Or a convention, but she was pretty sure her new friend wasn’t up for that just yet. She pushed play on the remote and snuggled in under the blanket. Close to Jac, but not touching. She had watched the movie several times, but watching it with a friend put a whole new spin on it. She munched the popcorn quietly as it began.

((OOC: feel free to handwave the movie itself, we don’t need to do a blow-by-blow XP))