and they'll make you a star ; alison blaire (singspiel) wrote in mutanthaven, @ 2009-08-11 00:08:00 |
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jean. Jean Grey crawled back up to the walkway looking out over the dance floor, the latter converted to a sleep ground. Gaia had made the floor more comfortable for the residents to sleep while a plan was being devised. Now, however, it was late; some residents were sleeping, others were awake and keeping to themselves, and others were hanging out. It seemed like everyone and everything was healing from the earthquake the previous weekend. She carried two Styrofoam cups of tea with her, handing one off to Ali before she moved to sit next to the blonde. She swung her legs over the side to hang, holding the warm cup in her hands as she looked out over the residents, surveying the crowd. "I think having individual rooms has spoiled everyone," Jean mused, keeping her voice low in the presence of those sleeping -- even if they were situated above the floor. ali. If Gaia hadn't made things move comfy, Ali didn't know what they would have done. Sure, she had a tiny dressing room and a ratty couch she could have slept on, but that wouldn't have been fair. It was this (and other) reasons that she was sleeping out on the floor with the rest of the hotel, so all the fluffy help from Gaia was much appreciated. When Jean crawled up onto the walkway, she snapped Ali out of whatever ever daydream she was having at the moment. She smiled as she took the cup of tea and unfolded her legs, letting them hang over the side just like her friend's. That was better. She took a small sip of her tea and nodded her head in agreement. "Count me in the spoiled group." Until now, the only time she had shared sleeping space was the few times she had been to camp. "Thank goodness Gaia made it a bit more comfortable." jean. Jean didn't really get to experience camp. And when her sister was alive, they both had their own separate rooms. Even when she was on the road with Warren and Scott and first broke into the hotel, it wasn't this many people in one room. This time in Inferno was an experiment to Jean. So Jean fell into the spoiled group just as much as Ali did. She had gotten comfortable in her suite over the years, purposefully trying to make it warm and inviting. Now it was a mess. "I don't know what we'd do without it." Without Gaia's help, that is. "Though, it can only really appease the masses for so long. Eventually this place is just going to get too... restless. I just hope whatever plans we get work out because otherwise we're going to have to figure out a different sleeping arrangement." She took a sip of her tea. "And I don't know where else we'd fit so many." ali. Camp helped her some, but it was really nothing compared to this. At camp, she had her own bunk bed and her own closet in which to keep her stuff. Here... well, Ali was sleeping next to people she never thought she would and she didn't really have any items to keep in a closet. It was a mess indeed. "We'd all be complaining about sore backs without it." At least now, that was one less complaint people could have. For the time being, at least. Since the first sip of her tea was hot, Ali took a moment to blow some air onto it and think about what Jean had said. Being at the Inferno was really only the tip of iceberg with possible problems. "I don't know either. It's only a matter of time before people start bickering and such." With a bunch of mutants, that wasn't a good thing. "Plus I keep wondering how some of them are going to replace even their basic belongings." jean. "We'll have to see what we can recover and I guess start making lists of what needs to be replaced?" Jean shrugged, sounding a little unsure. "I really don't know what else to do besides try to help them but I'm not even sure on specifics. It will probably be tough since we're hardly the only group suffering." It was basically guaranteed any Salvation Army or thrift store that survived and was opened would probably be busy. Jean hadn't even put a second thought into visiting right away. "And that doesn't even account for anything of sentimental value." Jean was in her room for nearly four or five years and had accumulated a bunch of stuff but she tried not to think about it -- it was all stuff that could generally be replaced. ali. "Thank goodness Old Navy always has great sales, huh?" While she was trying to be funny, Ali felt like it missed the mark because that was probably even too expensive for some of the kids. She then brought the cup down to around her lap and bit her lip in thought, which was something she seemed to be doing a lot lately. "Yeah. And it's not like we can fully explain our situation to any relief groups," she answered with a sigh. If social services found out about their living arrangements... Ali didn't want to think about that. "Ugh. I don't even want to think about those items." Just thinking about all her music and songs and everything that was lost was enough to make her sick and she sure as hell wasn't the only one. "I don't even think any of us know where to begin with all this." jean. Jean tapped the side of her cup softly with her index finger, looking away from Ali and out over the club. She didn't mean to remind Ali of her music but it was hard not to think about stuff like that, the stuff that people felt settled enough to have in the hotel. "Just take it one step at a time, I guess. Pick a direction and start moving in it." That's what Warren was trying to figure out now and Jean knew that would be incredibly hard for him. It wasn't like there were many other options than to rebuild -- where else would they fit so many residents? ali. The music could be rewritten, or at least she thought so. It was still in her brain. Somewhere. Right now, Ali was honestly thinking more about what to do with all these kids (as one of the oldest in the hotel, she could look at most of them as kids, thankyouverymuch ). "That's pretty much all we can do," she answered with an attempt of a smile with it. "And pretend that we know what we're doing the whole time." She didn't know which one would be harder. |