Post-It: ETD 00:01am

[maced_eggs]

[Spam for the Dining Room, Morning]

[Last night, Mason, Grim Reaper, age 27 and dead for the last forty years, shucked off his muddy, blood-stained clothes and fell asleep on a couch in his Union Jack underwear.

This morning, Mason, still dead, wakes up on the Barge.

Mason's never been much of what anyone might call "consciously aware", or "observant." For example; he fails to observe he is not in his home when he wakes up. He fails to observe that all of his clothes have gone missing.

What he does observe is that he is bloody starving, and needs a very, very large breakfast to erase the nightmare of the day before. So after failing to observe that he is completely pantsless, Mason shuffles out of his room and off to find food.

Which is why, still half asleep and very nearly naked, is a man barging through the breakfast bar gathering up as many miniature cereal boxes in his arms as he possibly can. He doesn't merely stop when they're all gone: systematically, he goes around to every table he nears and plucks them from unsuspecting eaters when he guesses they're not looking.

Arms loaded with cereal, the mysterious, nearly naked man attempts to make a retreat.

He doesn't yet have the capacity to guess where he is at the moment, aside from the completely unhelpful "Not at home." But at least there will always be Fruit Loops.]

Comments

[maced_eggs]

...I have a cabin?

[praesidium]

Everyone does. It might be where you woke up in before you wandered in here.

[maced_eggs]

Oh.


I don't think I remember which room I woke up in.

[praesidium]

Do you remember at least what floor you were on?

[maced_eggs]

There's floors?

[this is a no]

[praesidium]

[Alana stares for a moment before letting out a small puff of laughter.]

Okay, well, do you think you could at least recognize your door?

[maced_eggs]

Alana, lovely....I really could not.

[praesidium]

[...Well then.]

That significantly complicates things.

[maced_eggs]

Does it? I don't tend to stay long for there to usually be a "my" door anyway. Can't I borrow someone else's? In the meantime?

[praesidium]

I don't really think many people are going to be willing to have a roommate.

[maced_eggs]

Please? I'm very quiet. They won't even realize I'm there.

[praesidium]

I'm sure they'll notice their cereal missing.

[maced_eggs]

Blame it on rats.

[praesidium]

Really big rats?

[maced_eggs]

Yes. Like the sort you get in the New York subway system. Big as housecats.

[praesidium]

Aside from the pets people bring with them or decide to keep here, I can't say I've ever seen another animal on board. That might not hold up.

[maced_eggs]

Then I am officially homeless.

Again.

[praesidium]

I'd say more lost than homeless. You do have a cabin still even if you don't know which one it is.

[maced_eggs]

Alana, love. Alana banana.

A home is only a home if you can find it again once it goes lost.

[praesidium]

[She smiles.]

Technically speaking you can. It just might take a while.

But if you really have no luck finding your cabin and no one else will put you up, you're welcome to my couch. I'm sure Winston won't mind sharing.

[maced_eggs]

Is Winston your boyfriend?

[praesidium]

[Alana laughs.]

No. Winston is a dog.

[maced_eggs]

I know, love, that's why he's on the couch instead of your lovely bed.

I mean, is he sleeping with you?

[praesidium]

[Alana absentmindedly plays with a bracelet on one of her wrists with a finger, turning a bead over and over.]

I'm watching him for a friend. [It's just temporary. She keeps telling herself that over and over again.] He has his own bed, but he likes the couch.

[maced_eggs]

Must be a good friend.

All right. I will share with Winston, then. He and I will be the best of friends.