IT'S MY PARTY! AND I'LL CRY IF I WANT TO, CRY IF I WANT TO

[fashionfever]

[One hour after the execution, prisoners who have gone back down to the dorm floor will find Angela waving outside the mess hall.]

In honor of what Akira definitely would have wanted and Vita probably at least would have laughed about, we're all having dinner together.

[There's pots of coffee, and glasses of soda, and something like garlic bread, and spaghetti, and it sounds like there's even more food cooking in the kitchen.]

This would be a great time to share anything you got from playing ET, too, you know? [She's just trying to start conversation about literally anything else...]

Comments

[fashionfever]

I appreciate your concern, I guess, you're like my brother in arms or whatever's going on here, but I don't... Want to hurt myself. What's so hard to understand about that? I just want to have this one little thing I can do right for once in my life?

[losergod]

... Miss Napoli, you do plenty of things right all the time. I don't see what you're talking about.

[ He sounds very assured of that much. ]

[fashionfever]

...what?

[she's giving him the same look as when he says things completely psychotic sounding to her, like the moon is made of cheese]

[losergod]

[ Listen y'all pulled out his Dad Side so you're getting His Dad Side. ]

I don't believe I stuttered. You've done nothing except attempt to help and improve the atmosphere since we all ended up in this place. There are innumerous examples of you helping out without any real reward for your troubles.

You do plenty right. It's just that in situations like these, people tend to focus on the negative and it feels like you do anything but.

I KEPT MEANING TO DO THIS BECAUSE IT WAS SO MEANINGFUL

[fashionfever]

...but... I...

[Her shoulders have crumpled entirely. She's a little pear-shaped insofar as the bulkiest part of her body is her legs, so with them underneath her in the chair, in this position Angela looks very small.]

I got to help Akira with the meetings, you know...? If my classy atmosphere was so helpful, why didn't it make him trust me enough to say something? Anything! It didn't help at all! He just went straight into—

[pounds her fist on the counter for emphasis.]

[losergod]

Miss Napoli.

[ It's a little firmer than he usually tends to speak. Enough to snap her out of it. The sort of voice a father would take with their child when the kid is starting a fit, perhaps, or is distressed. A call to focus. ]

It was not your fault. He made a mistake. He chose to go in alone, and admitted as much. It was not about how little or how much he trusted the rest of us. It was about that he made an error of judgement. What happened was not your fault.

[ A smile, gentle, reassuring. ]

You shouldn't blame yourself for his shortcomings. He realized his mistake. But you've made none. You are a good person.