Love's no good but it sure beats the hurt

[madgiganticfeelings]

[That was... Christine can only call it the most horrible thing she's seen so far, with that familiar dread that says something worse may come. Four people have died. Four friends Christine had trusted in and relied upon. And four more people she cares about have turned into memories and painful reminders of her failure to do anything meaningful here.

And Christine wallows in that. God, does she wallow. But she also knows that those painful ghosts of the people she loved relied on her to keep getting back up when the world knocked her down. And she has to keep going, if only to honour there memories.

The note she slides under each person's door is very simple, the bright orange gel pen somehow seeming duller in the wake of mourning:]

Food is in the dining hall.
Please come have something, or I'll track you down in an hour and force feed you.
If there's anything at all you need, please come talk to me. We shouldn't have to suffer alone.
-Christine

[There's a few dishes Christine knows how to make: lo mein and beef stew, some simple sandwiches as well. There are almond cookies after the more filling foods are prepared.

Off to the side is a plate with a few dumplings and... what looks like mashed turnips? An odd combination, but they were Angus' favourite.

And Christine is true to her word. If you don't come in an hour, she'll find you. In fact, she makes rounds around the opera house pretty much every hour, checking each room, and... maybe singing softly to herself as she goes.]

O god,
I can't stay, I won't stay for things left unseen
I can't stay, I won't stay, this end has no means
I can't stay, I won't stay, you were just a dream
A sweet sweet dream
You were a dream
But not my dream...

[Speaking of dreams, someone should convince her to go to bed.]

Comments

[likemypicture]

[Anne shows up almost instantly after the note is slid under her door-- She had meant to check in on the kitchen earlier, she really had, but she and Tad Cooper had some soul searching to do.

And by soul searching, she means gazing into Tad Cooper's eyes intensely trying to see find some trace of what the hell made him haul ass to her like that. The dragons in stories were intelligent creatures, right? Or had there been something--- or someone-- compelling him?

Well. Anyway. She's done staring at and talking to an animal that may or may not have a curse upon him, so she heads to the dining hall. What she wears isn't her usual style-- instead, it's much more youthful, something like... a teenager would wear? A printed skirt, a solid top, and a denim jacket. Weird. She holds herself together, though, carrying dear Tad Cooper in a wicker basket as she makes her entry.]

I'm afraid I'm going to be a little bit of an adjustment, dear Tad, for I am an avid partier, unlike your two previous masters. Don't worry, I can show you the way. [Has Queen Anne lost her mind, talking to a dralizard like this?]

[Nevermind. She quickly busies herself folding fancy napkins, with making herself and others plates, and with trying to teach poor Tad Cooper how to eat off a spoon like a dignified little beast.]

[madgiganticfeelings]

[Thank God for Anne, here to be the life of the party, even when no one else is even here. Christine appreciates her help with table setting, but she doesn't get to say hello until Anne is trying to feed poor Tad some noodles.]

Maybe you should start with baby food? Noodles are long. Too slippery.

[likemypicture]

He's got a vicious jaw. [The way he bit Angus! Anne's still radiating with pride. She makes silly kissy faces at the little dragon.] But you're right-- Ah! The turnips, perhaps?

[madgiganticfeelings]

Those are easy to eat! Here, one second!

[Off she runs, returning a short moment later with a scoop of mashed turnips in the middle of the dish. She curtsies as she offers it to Anne, and maybe, casually, gives Tad a little boop on the snoot.]