fandomtownies | April Fools' Dance, An Abandoned Warehouse, Friday Night

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April Fools' Dance, An Abandoned Warehouse, Friday Night

The first arrivals to the warehouse would have found nothing - until the lights went on, dropping many shades of glitter down onto the floor. The glitter would stick around all night, almost-but-not-quite clashing with the colorful decor, though it did not seem to incite any boykissy.

Even if one of the janitors definitely took a shot at using it as an excuse.

There was a karaoke booth set up in the corner, and the rest of the party environment looked chaotic and incredibly merry. Reds, blues, and yellows had been thrown together like a crazy man had attacked the place with some paint.

Welcome to your April Fools' Dance, children, adults, and alumni.

[[ ~~wait for the~~ ocd up, have at! Arrival | Food and Drink | Shadowy Corners | Karaoke | Dance Floor | Bathrooms | OOC ]]

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Maybe if Anders came over with every intention of pounding Stark solidly (but gently! Mostly gently!) on the back to the tune of a boisterous, "Stark, man! You made it!" it would distract him from the color scheme?

Maybe?

. . . that was what Anders did, in any case.

Stark appreciated the effort, Anders, really he did. Even if it had put him slightly off-balance.

"I did," Stark confirmed, offering a smile to his pleasantly un-colorful friend. Look, if you'd been spending nearly all your time in a blandly colored transport pod, these decorations would be overwhelming you too.

"Hello, Anders. It's good to see you." And not just because you were something to look at that wasn't the decorations.

Pleasantly un-colorful was better than 'constantly cast in orange radiation glow,' anyway.

"Ditto, dude, ditto. Been a frakkin' long time -- how's life in space been treating you, buddy?" he asked, apparently content to sort of drape an arm over Stark's shoulders and lean on him.

Sorry about that balance thing.

Stark would agree. He disapproved of people being irradiated and orange was hardly Anders's best color.

"Space is...space," Stark answered. "Not much life to speak of. Well, there is. Lots of it. But not for me. I've been just, wandering, I suppose. Wondering what to do next. Or where to go. Both. No trouble at least. Not lately. You've been well?"

Anders had missed Stark's rambling, as the smile that lit up his face might indicate.

"I've been great, man," he assured Stark. "School's going okay, we've picked up a pretty interesting habit of chasing food trucks, we're doing good. You oughta come visit sometime, y'know? There's a frakking gourmet cupcake truck."

And Stark had missed rambling to an appreciative audience.

"Cupcake truck?" he repeated. Yes Anders, you said the magic word. "A truck full of cupcakes?"

Anders reached out to grab him by the shoulders, as if it was necessary to really convey the import of the subject.

"A truck full of cupcakes," he confirmed, eyes wide with awe. "Fancy ones. Really good fancy ones. Red velvet and peanut-butter-and-chocolate and good ol' classic white cake, piled with frosting and sprinkles, and they drive around town selling 'em. That's before you even get into the cupcake bakeries all over, and I know where they all are."

"No cupcakes in space," Stark said sadly. "Still. Definitely no vehicles full of them. This happens with other foods too? And there are whole bakeries of just cupcakes?" And not a single cupcake to be found in the UTs. The universe really was a terribly unfair place.

"Now I'm hungry." Of course, he'd been eating nothing but food cubes for who knew how long at this point. Of course he was hungry. And he looked it.

And that would be Anders trying to hustle Stark over toward the food tables, as soon as he got a good look.

"So let's do something about that," he declared. "And yeah. Whole bakeries of cupcakes, whole trucks of different kinds of food. This is why you gotta swing by! We've got plenty of room. We'll take two weeks, just go on a food tour."

"Really?" Stark asked hopefully. Any excuse, right now, to not get back in that frelling transport pod for a little while would be welcome.

He was putting up no resistance to being led over to the food. None whatsoever.

"That sounds like a lot of cupcakes. A lot of food. Mostly cupcakes."

Good, because Anders had already piled a plate with food for him and was about to shove it into his hands.

"You really, really miss cupcakes, don't you?" he had to ask. "Y'know, there's a TV show about 'em now but I haven't had a chance to watch it yet."

NO, ANDERS. THAT WAY LAY WEEPING.

Edited 2011-04-02 02:34 (UTC)

"I miss food that isn't cubes," Stark said after a few mouthfuls from the plate now in his hands. "I bought too many food cubes. I didn't mean to. Any amount is too many, really. And I bought a lot. Not on purpose. It just happened. And yes, cupcakes. Of course I miss cupcakes. Who wouldn't miss cupcakes?" Crazy people. Crazier people than Stark.

"Maybe I can watch that show while I'm here."

"We can watch it together," Anders decided, like this was the best idea ever when really it might be the worst.

He snagged a pig-in-a-blanket for himself and bit into it thoughtfully.

"I'm not sure there'd be a great market for a food-cube food truck. Actually, I bet there would be if it was all fancy, organic designer cubes . . ."

Anders, no.

"We can," Stark agreed happily. Perhaps there might even be cupcakes to eat while watching and it might just be the best day ever. Well, the best one in quite a while at least.

Then he frowned. "Noone," he said very seriously, "noone wants food cubes. Not even fancy ones. They don't come fancy. Only cubes. All the same. Sometimes a different color, but always the same. Noone wants that. Not that on purpose."

Comparatively speaking, there was a good chance it would at least be the best day in quite a long time.

"I dunno, man," Anders hedged. "People eat some crazy-ass stuff out there where I live now. It could be trendy. You never know."

If the day didn't include being locked in a cell or a box or both or anyone dying, it was a good day. Stark's standards were pretty low at this point.

"It won't be trendy," Stark said firmly. "I won't let it." Because he had control over that sort of thing. Really.

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April Fools' Dance, An Abandoned Warehouse, Friday Night

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