<=Chapter 23 {Toc} Chap. 25 =>

*Chapter 24: Packing*

"STARTING CHAPTER"

<<== THIS STORY HAS MULTIPLE BEGINNINGS. YOU MAY START HERE, AND DON'T FEEL LIKE IT'S THE WRONG THING TO DO. I realize my story is long and somewhat rambley. WHEN YOU WANT A FLASHBACK OR A PREQUIL, then go, when you desire, to the previous Strating Chapter. ==(Next Starting Chapter)==>>

Toaster-Man grumbled incoherently in a complaining tone, filling suitcases with things in his room.

“I can’t hear what you’re saying,” said Jessica. “But you should be grateful they at least gave you the evening to pack, instead of kicking you out of society immediately, with nothing but the costume and cape on your back.” The sun was setting on the evening of Danada day, and downstairs the festivities had already begun. A stage had been set up outside, and even though the room was not facing an outside window the faint sound of the band warming up had been heard. A stage had been set up outside, because it had been decided that outside was more holiday-ey. Jessica was eating a cheeseburger she had gotten from a barbeque as she helped make sure Toaster-Man actually packed practical things he would need, rather than the unnecessary things he seemed to want.

“And you don’t need seventeen capes!” said Jessica, throwing out a bunch of capes from the suitcase Toaster-Man was attempting to pack. “This is dead weight! You’re gonna need food, and you’re gonna need shelter! A tent! Something! You were generously given these question boxes for your banishment. We can use them!” Question boxes, filled with undefined things that could become whatever you imagined littered the floor. Some were opened and already defined, some still closed and in quantum flux.

“We?” asked Toaster-Man. “I’m the one who’s banished. You’re just the one who’s looking after me to make sure I don’t hide or run away or define all the rest of the tower out of spite.” Jessica looked surprised. “Yeah, I heard you guys talking.”

“And you’re lucky 7ollion and I feel guilty enough to help you more than we have to,” retorted Jessica. 7ollion was keeping guard by the door.

“Hey, I go where the fire is,” said 7ollion. “The party looks great, and so does the concert, but I much prefer the real show.”

Toaster-Man glared angrily in 7ollion’s direction, and looked for a second as if he was calculating his odds if he made a break for it. But thought better.

“Not helping, 7ollion,” said Jessica.

“Sorry,” said 7ollion. He was sipping a pint glass as he spoke. “Must be the beer. You know they found alcohol on the first floor… didn’t even make it for the party. It was there all along we just never looked. You should go have a drink. It’ll help you relax a bit.”

Jessica made an annoyed expression, yet took a few steps toward the door.

“And don’t worry,” said 7ollion. “I’ll be fine keeping guard by myself; I can handle him. And I’ll make sure he doesn’t fill suitcases with toast.”

Jessica sighed and walked out the door. “I’ll be back soon.” 7ollion touched her reassuringly on the shoulder as she left.

*          *          *

Richard was bartending as Jessica approached the bar on the north end of the first floor. It was indeed fully stocked with various liqueurs, but apparently no one had thought to go over to that corner of the room before. But right now it had a small collection of Danadians hanging out and having a good time. “Hey Jessica,” he said. “What can I get you?”

“I dunno,” said Jessica. “What’s tasty?”

“I’ll mix something up for you,” said Richard. He quickly mixed up a mixed drink. It was mostly a pale red, but with a layer of blue on the top.  He added a straw and garnished it with a lime.

Jessica took a sip, then quickly took a larger drink. “This is really good,” she said. “What’s it called?”

“Not sure,” said Richard. “I just made it up. What do you think it should be called?”

“Tastes like an icy green cherry,” she said after squeezing the lime and stirring it with the straw. “How about a purple penguin?”

“Sounds good,” said Richard.

<See the thing about thoughts is,> Pudding remarked suddenly. He was sitting on a bar stool a couple stools over from where Jessica was. <Is they’re not words.> Pudding was sitting on a bar stool. Jessica remarked upon that. She had never seen the psychic fish do anything but float before, yet here he was, making physical contact with the stool.

“I’m sorry?” asked Jessica.

“Don’t mind him,” said Richard. “He’s had half a pint and now he’s done. Bit of a lightweight, being a fish and all.”

<Yes, I may be drunk, but what I say is still true. We don’t think in words. We think in ideas. Sometimes we turn those ideas into nonsense words, then sometimes we turn those words into actual words. But most of the thoughts aren’t actual words. >

Jessica thought about that for a moment.

<See,> said Pudding. <I could tell you were thinking about that but I couldn’t tell what you were thinking. Just cause I can read your mind doesn’t mean I can understand your mind’s language. It’s not a book written in English.>

“True enough,” said Richard. “I never thought about it that way.”

“I’ll admit, I was always weary about what I thought around you,” said Jessica.

<Most people are,> said Pudding with a hint of melancholy. <But I’m not an alien. Not really. Everyone else reads thoughts too. They just use facial cues and tones of voice…>

“Awe, Pudding,” said Jessica with concern. “That’s-”

She was interrupted as Zach ran into the bar area. “Guys, the band’s about to play!” He then ran out, expecting people to follow. Most of the others in the bar did. Jessica moved to go out as well, and Pudding turned to look at her.

<I want to see them, but my self-telekinesis is a bit off… would you mind…?> So Jessica picked him up and carried him outside in her arms.

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