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Support Services: Main Picnic Shelter at the Park, Friday After Classes

Francine, looking slightly annoyed as she perched on the table and crumbled bits of Apple Brown Betty in her fingers? Neverrrr.

"So Professor Skywalker brought up something in ethics that I think can apply to us," she said, standing up and brushing off her shorts. "He said heroes need people like us to stop them from being idiots. More or less. We can probably expand that to 'everybody needs their friends to stop them from being idiots at some point.'"

"If you're not from the here and now you may not have heard of this, but we've got this thing called a Designated Driver. When people go out to drink together, one of them volunteers to stay sober so there'll be somebody to get them home safe. I think we can try to be that for each other when it comes to stuff that happens on the island.

"We may not be able to designate somebody in advance to ...not be a dumbass, but we can at least think about what to do when that happens, right? Sooner or later we're all gonna have to be have to be the one to convince our drunk, stupid, bleeding, gremlin-bitten friend that streaking or going back into the battle or challenging Principal Zoe to a shootout is the Not The Best Idea Ever."

[OOC: open and smurf-less!]

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So, little known fact: when Francine is upset? She turns to food. Luckily for you, this took the form of a baking spree last night. Three kinds of cookies, and yes, Apple Brown Betty. You might want to eat that one with a fork.

Edited 2009-09-18 06:45 (UTC)

There... was a lot more food here than last week, Angela was sure. Not that she was complaining, really, just... an observation.

For varieties sake, she was going the Apple Brown Betty route. Francine was definitely a hell of a better cook than she was.

Arthur was there to eat, yes, even if he looked like he hadn't slept much. He took some cake without mentioning a word, and took up a spot.

Obviously, none of this applied to him.

Of course none of this applied to Arthur. The pointed look Morgana was giving him was surely just an illusion.

Really. An illusion.

Arthur gave her his most innocent look back. "Morgana," he greeted.

"Arthur," she replied, before taking a better look at him. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," he said, and, after a moment - because it was Morgana - allowed, "A bit tired."

"Have you not been sleeping well?" she asked. At least that, unlike many of the things he got into, was something she understood.

"No, I merely had a long night last night," Arthur said, pondered teasing her about actually caring, but tossed that aside.

He also pondered giving her more details, but he had no clue where to even start.

"Was there alcohol involved?" Morgana asked, taking her best guess with the information she had.

"Katina had a fair bit to drink, yes," he said, giving her a Look before she jumped to conclusions. "I had to make sure she returned home safely."

Obviously.

So, so lucky that Francine didn't possess any turning-into-a-mouse powers.

Dinah was here for the fooooood. And 'cause she missed Magic Reserves this week. And.... now she may be looking slightly guilty for no reason. No, she's never (gotten herself turned into a kitten/fought someone with fire/ jumped off a building/sandworm/etc. with very little warning) done anything like this.

She'll just be over here nibbling. Yup.

"In other words," Priestly murmured to her at one point, "Everyone needs an Alfred."

"Yeeeah," Dinah had to agree. "I know. Not everyone's lucky enough to get one, though." She nudged his arm. "Sometimes the Alfreds have other stuff they wanna do."

"Well, some of us can be, like, part time Alfreds. Long distance Alfreds? Does that even work?"

"I don't know how the long distance would-- but maybe the part-time? That wouldn't be bad, right?" Dinah gave him a hopeful grin. "Or check-ins to make sure that certain crimefighters remembered to wear their kevlar?"

"FedExing gummy vitamins," Priestly said, remembering one of the questions the real Alfred had asked him. "Sending people over to inspect your repelling gear. . . ."

Which inspired more giggling. "Yeah, like that. And occasional retreats to California when absolutely needed?" Dinah rocked up on her toes. "And oh! Jak and I were thinking, rappelling next week. You should come along this time." She gave him a severe look. "Really."

Woah, severe look. "Um. Okay?" He frowned, then straightened his shoulders. "Yeah. Okay. I should totally at least learn how to do that stuff, right?"

Dinah pounce-hugged him for finally agreeing, then beamed at him. "Seriously, I will be so careful, and you don't have to do it, like, a lot. I just want you to try it. Yes!"

Priestly couldn't help but kinda wonder if this was one of those "designated non-dumbass necessary" situations.

But, hey, he had to try everything at least once, right?

Exactly.

"And next time you want to drink or, I don't know, publically protest something? I will so be there with the rickshaw and the bail money." Dinah nodded. "It goes both ways. Although if it's a really good protest, I should probably give the money to the next friend we've got."

Priestly laughed. "Well, you know, all the best protests involve fire."

Fire shiny! "And a fire extinguisher. Or, or, just fire-resistant clothes! And possibly a bucket of water." She grinned at him, nibbling on the Apple Brown Betty and humming happily. "Any good protests coming up?"

"Nothing really comes to mind. People around here are too open minded. There's not much to get righteously angry about."

"Awww." Dinah tried to think of anything to protest that she'd run across that week, buuut... not so much. "Which is a good thing, but yeah, leaves us protest-free. Unless we wanted to ask for a curfew or something, just to see what would happen."

". . . What, like, reverse psychology?"

"Maybe?" More like rabble-rousing, honestly. "Although, if it got done wrong, we could end up with an actual curfew."

"Yeah, that might be too subtle."

Dinah poked him and said, "Anyway. Rappelling! And maybe other stuff!" And no mentioning Claudia and Edward and all. Distraction was yay.

"I'm a firm supporter of other stuff."

To distract from the "oh holy crap I'm gonna go over the edge of a multiple story building on purpose."

Ellie snagged a few cookies. It was sort of a tradition for her at these meetings.

Wow, that was a lot of cookies. Claire was nibbling on one while she listened.

Gabrielle had a party to go to later, but she couldn't possibly say no to that Apple Brown Betty. Although she was wondering what was on Francine's mind.

"Have you been in a situation here where it wasn't about supporting the fighters, it was about stopping somebody from going out with a bloody nose and three broken fingers? Or what do you do if your roomie's been gremlin-bitten? Or they're drunk and about to marry some floozy on a cruise ship?" Totally random examples, all. "If you've done it and it worked, tell us. If you haven't but you think it might, tell us. If it failed like a faily faily thing, tell us what not to try."

"No one stopped me from getting drunk and marrying someone on a cruise ship... It would've saved a lot of hassle for a lot of people if they had."

On the other hand, getting married had pushed a few things into motion, so-- Hmm.

"I'm available for that," Francine answered dryly. "I have experience."

"Well, I don't think that I can get drunk," Claire offered. "And I don't think that gremlin spit would affect me. So, I can offer my services in those situations."

When they and their lovely breasts ping in.

Francine was here. With Apple Brown Betty crumbs on her ~~face~~ lap. Again. In what seemed to be a running theme among certain parties today, she didn't look like she'd got much sleep either.

Edited 2009-09-18 18:52 (UTC)

Morgana was here, with a little bit of every kind of food Francine had brought. She couldn't let it go to waste, after all.

Because if the world ends, we will miss the new Merlin episode!

Francie, honey, your issues are showin'.

GEE DO YOU THINK.

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Support Services: Main Picnic Shelter at the Park, Friday After Classes

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