Post-Trial I Afterparty

[cellpreservation]

[They're down two of their number, and who knows how many more will follow, but for tonight at least... They have a chance to rest.

The school has already been cleaned, leaving no signs of the deaths that occurred on this very day, but that's just as well. After looking around to make sure of that much, Yuta marches into the kitchen and, after a bit of looking around, ends up gathering some snacks: boxed crackers and apple slices that aren't perfectly even in cut but look, he's not the chef of his group, he did his best. These he sets out on some plates in the cafeteria before finding his usual seat to lounge in, eating some apple slices off of a smaller plate he grabbed just for himself.

And then, he waits - to see who trickles in, and who doesn't.

Where is your character in the aftermath?]

Comments

[curdle]

[ Thomasin doesn't show up immediately. She needs a good hour or so to cry it out in her room, wash her face, and change clothes. She needs to make herself presentable. But once that's sorted, she comes to the cafeteria, looks at the snacks, and silently enters the kitchen, and that's where you can find her for a good long time! Not having a stovetop (even though Thomasin would absolutely not know how to use a stovetop) is a big detriment to her cooking endeavors here, since much of her know-how revolves around boiling stuff in a bag, but she at least knows how to use the oven now. Home ec may have done her a good turn yet. After a while, she comes back out and drags a chair in with her.

Eventually, the scent of Gingerbread, But More So wafts out into the cafeteria area at large. Thomasin has a pan of something in the oven, and she seems not to notice anyone else in the kitchen; she just sits in her chair in front of the counter, her sleeves hiked up and her elbows resting on the countertop, and cuts apples distractedly as a remedy to being lost in her thoughts. The knife she uses is not unlike the one that killed Luz. Eventually, she offers: ]

It's not ready. If 'tis that what brought thee in.

[ To any newcomers, without turning to face them. She also microwaves some milk in an attempt to start making a posset, sees the bubbling happen, and immediately wrenches the door open in terror! ]

[holyironmade]

I see. Then I may have to go to bed before it is done. Do you think... There will be some left in the morning? I do not want to be gluttonous.

[She pauses. She tried to get it over with quickly in the trial, but she does think Thomasin deserves more.]

If you fear me because of my ways... I understand.

[curdle]

I'll make certain there is. 'Twill not be long, but it is thy wont to retire early.

[ she'll chase everyone out of here with a wooden spoon if need be ]

... Speak you of your tortures, Jeanne?

[holyironmade]

You speak of witches who consort with Satan. Shamans and their spirit partners are often seen the same way, are feared. I will even admit there are evil ones out there. Hao is such after all.

[She clasps her hands meekly.]

[curdle]

... Oh.

Well, I'd not lie to thee, and say I think naught of it. [ She pauses, considering. ] Didst make covenant with [ and she's trying so hard to pronounce it correctly ] Shamash?

[spychic]

[Anya hesitantly walks over to Thomasin.]

...

Anya is sorry, Thomasin. Anya...didn't know.

[The smell is nice, at least.]

[curdle]

[ Thomasin looks up from her bowl of apples, then up further still, until she's staring at the ceiling like someone afraid that they'll start crying. ]

Peace. I know you... [ she swallows the rest of the sentence, which was going to be "meant no harm in it", because it would be false. Whether Anya wished it or not, there was no way not to mean harm. ] Thou wast frighted and lost, as in a wilderness.

[spychic]

[Thomasin always talks so elegantly. Like a princess.]

Anya was frightened, yeah. Anya won't do it again, though. Because Anya won't let it happen again. We'll all be friends now. Anya will make sure of it.

[She says. It's a promise she really wants to keep even if people tell her it's impossible.]

...What are you making...? It smells nice.

[curdle]

I so hope you speak aright, [ she breathes, blinking a few times. She can't muster any certainty to go with it, but when she sets her knife down and turns around to face Anya, she's at least managed to put on a good face. ] And I thank thee.

That what's in the oven is a gingerbread. I thought the smell might cheer us... even if the taste be ill. Like as not I was thy age the last I ate of it.

[panglici]

I don't mind waiting. And...

[It's her voice failing her, not her nerve. Totally.]

And I'm glad it wasn't you.

[curdle]

It'll not be long, now.

[ Thomasin doesn't turn around as she speaks, but it's not from a desire to be cruel. She simply fears she will betray herself if she does. Like, for example, she might suddenly blurt out: ]

... I feared not a one of us would away from that place.

[ More accurately, one of them would "away", but only one. ]

[panglici]

So did I. None of us knew how to handle this....

[Thomasin's back being turned is good, for now, since it means she can wipe her eyes without being seen.]

And I wouldn't blame you if you didn't want anything to do with somebody whose family did make some kind of bargain with spirits a long time ago, but... you know how to sew and bake so much better than me, I would like to learn if you wouldn't mind teaching.

[curdle]

[ Thomasin is quiet for much longer than this statement might seem to merit before she speaks again, her voice smaller even than before. ]

... I'd not hold that against thee.

Folk say that witchcraft passeth through the lines of blood. If thy mother, aye, or even thy grandmother, was known for a witch, they will think thee a likelier ally to the Evil One, taught his works even from the cradle. I thought so too, for 'twas never aught else to think. Yet now...

My Father's pride was what cast us from the congregation. He was quarrelsome and would not yield afore the magistrates. So they called him a heretic and banished him, and we his kindred were smeared with the same evil. And if I was to condemn such a person, for sins committed ere their birth, I should be doing the very same as they.

[ you wanna like... circle back to the baking at any point there, thomasin, or ]

[normalnotroyal]

What is it? It reminds me of... sorry, I don't know the English. We have a cookie like this called marranitos, though.

[She leans against one of the counters, idly carving a rose from an apple. This is absolutely one of those "why the fuck do you know how to do that" things, but she's trying to keep her hands busy and she thought one of the younger kids might like it.]

[curdle]

Gingerbread. [ She adds, a little apologetic even though it's literally not out of the oven yet: ] It may not have much virtue. I've not tasted it since we left England... but we've such a bounty of spices in this strange place. It seemed a waste not to use them.

[ Why not touch the costly goods they've been given access to, really? Thrift? Respect for the Principal? Not likely. Her eyes catch on the apple rose, which predictably captivates her; her mouth forms a delighted little "o" for a second. ]

How did you do that?

[normalnotroyal]

Ginger bread.

[You know that tone of "alien saying a human word for the first time"? Yeah. Rosalinda's giving big alien energy as she repeats the word to herself, distinctly as two words.]

Oh! Let us make a trade. I show you how to cut a rose from an apple and then you can tell me what's in ginger bread while we wait.

[curdle]

[ listen. this is the girl who said "pumpion spice" in airlocked like three times. she cannot judge. ]

'Tis a fair barter. We've still more apples hither, [ she adds, gesturing to some whole and uncut apples near her workspace. ] I think I never saw so many all together, but for on a tree.

[gotnothing]

[ oh no... Does ava know how to deal with a modern microwave either?? Nope. But she's gonna try to help...? ]

It's okay! ...Probably!

[ Scampers over to like... Assess the milk damage. ]

[curdle]

It was a-boiling over the rim, I didn't mean to--

[ She's really just put it in on a too-high heat for too long! It's spilled over a bit, and the sides of the cup are definitely too hot and covered with some sticky dried milk, but the bubbling's already died down and it... doesn't look burnt or curdled? To Thomasin, however, this all looks like a catastrophic explosion in the making. She tentatively reaches inside, touches her fingers to the side of the cup, and flinches back immediately. ]

Touch it not, Ava! It'll burn thee.

[gotnothing]

Apparently cow milk does that.

[ She's from sort of the opposite end of the spectrum with this problem, but at least knows the basics of how microwaves work! Even if she hasn't owned one in... a while.

Ava examines it, careful not to touch it after Thomasin mentions. ]

So the good news is I think you've avoided making it uh. Go boom.

[temmapathy]

[The smell definitely draws Emma in, although she has to tap Thomasin on the arm, signing to quickly ask:]

Is it ready yet?

[curdle]

[ Thomasin shakes her head, setting the knife down so she can sign. ]

Not yet. But not long, now.

[ Okay, so maybe she's starting to feel just a little sinfully proud of herself after people showing interest in the food... but the little smile on her face vanishes pretty quickly. ]

How are you faring?

[temmapathy]

Bad. [There's a pause, as she tries to figure out what else to say, but just settles on that.] But at least there's food.

[canreallymove]

[Don't mind him, he's just come from the gym after a long evening of just Throwing Things and-]

Woah! Y...you ok there, dudette?

[He saw the whole throwing open the door thing.]

[curdle]

Forgive me, I knew not that it could do this!

[ she's still just kind of staring into the microwave and wringing her hands... ]

I think I stopped it...