[size=9pt]/ this is human au because i do what i want.
also dw the last 3 paras are the only important ones.

So. He had responsibilities, now.

Meaning responsibilities he wasn't fully on board with. Meaning he had to drag himself out of his room in the morning after a blessed, fulfilling hour's sleep and figure out what the fuck a Cosmic General was supposed to do, what the fuck issues he had to resolve, what the fuck type of excuse he was gonna' use for sitting around in the Cleric's hide, today. See, Bast played it cool. With his damned smirk and his eternal state of nonchalance, he made it look easy, and even though, so far, Moon's new title changed nothing and there seemed to be no pressing issues that required he be stressed over-- He was, anyway. Because that was his goddamn choice, okay. It meant that if something absolutely horrific suddenly happened and everything came crumbling down, he was ready. The paranoia was a life hack.

Today, however, he appeared somewhat settled. The dark skinned boy sat atop a ledge in the observatory, slightly raised above everyone else-- one pencil in his mouth, another pencil behind his ear, two more stuck into his hair -- and stared into the bustling crowd of the Ascendant's members, thoughtful. He had a floral notebook in front of him. It was a planner. Pinterest gave him the idea. His latest bulletpoint, written in sickly pink glow pen, said; 'Is pineapple on pizza really sacrilegious?'

See, there'd been a lot of newbies turning up at the border, recently. They each came equipped with their own tragic backstory and bad attitude, and while Moon felt most of them were nice folk who could potentially fit in real well, things in the Observatory had been messy, lately, and it was probably hard for them to get into the flow of things. So this was meant to help. Scratch that, it was going to help. That pin he'd added to his Positivity Board, this morning, told him to believe in himself, so, yeah. He was doing God's work.

He snapped the notebook closed loudly and flung it somewhere behind him before sticking two fingers in his mouth and letting out a sharp whistle. It echoed. "Listen up! We're doing a little introduction thing. A meet and greet. An ice breaker. A stick-up-your-ass-remover. Whatever floats your boat." He waited for the inevitable attention before continuing, one hand rubbing sleeping at his eye as he spoke, "Right. So, if you wanna' tell us your name and your life story, or whatever the fuck, feel free, but this isn't A.A. We're doing something better.

"I call out a question and you guys give your opinion. A debate, kind of. Disclaimer, though; these are gonna' be controversial, so go wild. Get heated, yell-- knock someone out, for all I care. Just show some damn passion, okay? It's too civil, 'round here." A pause as he waited for nods before speaking again, "Alright. First question.

"Is cereal a soup?"

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[size=9pt]"A fucking valid one." replied Moon, grin growing steady as he preened at Bugsy. To be honest, he really didn't care for the logistics of cereal, but he was invested in this cause, so he'd give the devil a call and play his advocate, for today. He lifts himself up on his hands, adjusts his legs underneath him and flashes pearly whites at Thea. "So what about smoothies? What if I told you they're just fruit soup?"

/psa feel free to make ur posts Short As Hell. no one has time to write a novel about cereal and most of this is just dialogue anyway

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[size=9pt]He was getting more involved in this than he'd originally planned. Staring Bugsy with a frown as he spoke, he took a packet of Juicy Fruit from his pocket and unwrapped one. He popped it in his mouth, chewed thoughtfully. This was how it was obvious things were getting serious.

Hot cereal? He swore he'd heard of that before, or was at least familiar with something along the lines. "Yeah, but--" starts the boy, but is interrupted by a new voice. 'You know, Hons, hot cereal is also commonly referred to as oatmeal.' Dark brows shoot up, mouth ajar for a moment as if he's heard something revolutionary. He quirks his head at Bugsy, as if saying, how about that?-- before turning and pointing directly at Empyrah. "Lady in the back! You're absolutely fucking right. Oatmeal. Thank you for your contribution." He grins, pristine, but further examination of the woman leads him to her bandages and a frown graces the ex-Halo's brow, yet again, head craned to get a look at her blood soaked hand. "Your bandages are giving me a bad name. Come find me afterwards so I can fix that shit before I pull a Bast and impulse demote the whole Medic team." He didn't mention that 'the whole Medic team' consisted only of one person. It'd ruin the dramatic effect.

"Okay. Before you all have an aneurysm, next question." He leaves a foreboding silence for a moment, squinting into the crowd. Behind him, Laika is sprawled out like the massive sleeping bear she is, and he glances at her quickly to make sure she's still passed out. There were certain things a dog shouldn't hear. "Dogs or cats?"