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

[holyspit]

[Anne, that's a little insulting, he's a person, not a pet.]

...Yeah. Thanks.

[likemypicture]

[She makes her way over to Steven, flopping down on the ground by him, offering Steven one of the sugar cubes, popping one in her mouth-- then she hesitates.]

Does-- he want one? [do lions eat sugarcubes.]

[holyspit]

...Maybe? He doesn't really NEED to eat, but. Sometimes he still catches stuff.

[Because cat.]

I can try giving one to him? Uh- Tad Cooper might. Want to keep a little distance.

[Because CAT.]

[likemypicture]

That's right. Darling Tad, stay in the basket! [Tad obeys, by continuing to be the most chill, as Anne leaves the basket on the opposite side of her from Lion, and hands Steven a sugarcube.]

[holyspit]

[Steven holds the cube out to Lion, who sniffs at it uncertainly before licking it off his palm. There's a faint crunch as he chews once, catlike, and then a deep rumble as he settles back in.]

Oh, hey, I think that means he likes it.

[At least all the animals are happy, looks like.]

[likemypicture]

I knew it! Kids and animals love sugar. [And Anne, apparently, since he just watched her pop a whole sugar cube in her mouth.]

I've never seen one, so.... pink before!

[holyspit]

Yeah. He's special.

[He gives Lion another tummy rub.]

...Does that mean you've seen lions that are pink, just. Not AS pink?