[closed] various prompts

[eggplanting]

Who: Steph + various
Where: Leith, Westerley, probably not Qresh
When: Throughout week 4 and onwards
Summary: Catch-all for Feb so I don't clog up the comms! Feel free to hit me up at batsecretary if you'd like to do something
Restrictions/Warnings: Violence, oops

Comments

w4d7; Giovanni

[eggplanting]

[Something isn't right.

The first clue is when a handful of Enforcers insist on loading the shipment themselves, crates and crates of god knows what, though Steph is almost certain that it must be weaponry or armour, judging by the heightening tension that's come after the sickness and the execution of Seyah Hyponia. There's a cloud hanging over the Quad, one that's ready to burst. If the True Leithians and the Resistance try to battle things out, the Company is going to get dragged into it, and Steph isn't sure what side the Company will fall on.

The second clue is the Enforcer that informs her she'll be accompanied by a Dog, Unit 68, but unfortunately its Handler has been held up, so she'll need to mind it until the Handler turns up. Managing to fight down her outrage at the way the Enforcer calls the Dog it, Steph accepts the sword he hands her as if she knows what the hell to do with it. The whole thing explains a lot about Giovanni, though.

Which is exactly who appears from around the corner when the Enforcer calls him, and Steph almost laughs before realizing she…. isn't sure what the rules are about Dogs fraternizing with Company employees, so she simply nods at Gio, trusting that he'll maintain his usual cool indifference.

It isn't until the Enforcer leaves that Steph smiles.]

Fancy meeting you here.

[The Dog Bite is still in her hand, but she holds it loosely, as if it's just some minor accessory.]

[ofobedience]

[The atmosphere of late-- it's filled with a kind of crackling tension that winds its way between his bones, detonates bright sparks in his blood. The whole Quad seems heavy with it, and whilst concern and worry and fear might be brewing among the general populous, for Unit 68 there's an unsteady giddiness to it all, a sense of something building, a badly healed wound waiting to be torn open. It's a time of activity, of flux, and for something like him such a thing can only mean the chance to get out and play more often, to play hard.

It doesn't seem like a bad thing.

Like now, for instance. Accompanying a weapons shipment (and there's something funny about that, isn't there? A weapon guarding weapons, hahah) isn't necessarily a high octave job, not compared with some of the other missions he's assigned to, but the opportunity for it is there, bubbling black beneath the surface, and he can hold out hope that things will get interesting. That he'll get to have some fun.

That the Handler assigned to him for this particular job has been held up is a cause of minor irritation (information gleaned through the conversation between Enforcers, none of them bothering to inform him directly-- why would they?), that they'll leave some pilot to mind him until they turn up, but it's not much of a dampener on his thrumming spirits. There's a sense of something in the air today, something looming, and he has a good feeling about how this job is going to go. Good, of course, depending on who's perspective one views it from.

The Enforcer calls for him by number and a quick, high whistle (the dog jokes, they never get old apparently), and he follows the sound with perfect obedience, back straight and face impassive despite the jittering activity inside his head. And then he catches sight of Steph. His mouth twists in a smile, but it's a detached kind of thing, devoid of visible recognition, his demeanour just as glacial as she expects it to be.

Once the Enforcer departs, however, there's a fractional loosening in him, something infinitesimally closer to informality setting in. His smile widens, although he makes no move to decrease the distance between them, uncanny red eyes flashing to the sword held in her hands.]

Fancy that, indeed.

[eggplanting]

[It's nice to get a smile, it makes her feel like she's doing something right with Giovanni, because she worries about him, even if she's sure he'd insist that kind of thing isn't necessary. But the way other people treat him doesn't sit well with her.

Speaking of...]

So, uh, Mr. Hotshot Enforcer gave me this thing. [The Bite, which she raises a little to indicate what she means, though the pointy end is directed away from Gio.] The fuck am I supposed to do with it?

[ofobedience]

[Best that she doesn't express it-- such sentiment would only confound him, make him question her judgement because the way the Enforcers had spoken about him, their views on what he is, it's how he sees himself. It's only right, to be expected. It's Steph's responses that are out of the ordinary, here.

Regardless, the smile remains a moment longer before dissipating like smoke on the air, and when she raises the sword he takes a small step back, almost unconscious, despite that nothing else in his demeanour speaks of alarm or concern. Instead, he raises a brow, expression coolly incredulous.]

He didn't explain it?

[eggplanting]

[She notices the way he steps back and instantly lowers the weapon; she'd drop it if she didn't think she'd get in trouble.]

Just to hold it for the Handler... [But she's quick, sometimes, and the pieces fall into place relatively easily once she'd clocked his reaction, along with the fact that it's something for the Handlers to carry.

The realization comes with cold anger curling in her chest.] They use this on you.

[It's not a question.]

[ofobedience]

[It's not a question, and so he chooses not to confirm or deny it, only to expand, give it context. He sees it in her, the distaste for it, and whilst he can't claim to like the idea of Dog Bite, he at least sees the need for it, knows the reasoning. Perhaps, with an explanation, she'll see that too.]

In emergencies. If things get out of hand.

[Not that he's ever 'got out of hand'. And yet, he knows what it's like, how it feels, the acute agony of it. Isn't eager for a repeat performance.]

[eggplanting]

[The only thing she sees is the words fuck the Company blaring loudly in her thoughts, but that's not something she can say out loud, not here, not around Giovanni.]

This is messed up. [It's all she can think to say that isn't too inflammatory.] Do they have a lot of them?

w4d6; Kate

[eggplanting]

[Steph is still shaking off the last of the illness, battling the occasional ache and wave of lethargy to take a shipment over to Westerley, partly because it's her job, but also because she has plans to meet up with a PI that one of her colleagues suggested. Part of her keeps screaming that this is a stupid idea, that she's going to end up being found out, but she's not sure if she has many other options. She can't keep living like this, acting as if everything is fine when it really, truly isn't. The hallucinations, the way she reacted to Giovanna, the scars…. none of it adds up and she needs answers.

That doesn't make her any less nervous as she slips into the bar where she's due to meet Kate, scanning the room for anyone in purple.]

[fledges]

[Kate is sitting in the back corner, decked out in an obnoxious amount of purple, as promised. It's a small place, one that Kate picked specifically because it's relatively Resistance leaning, which means there aren't many people from the Company who hang out here. Kate doesn't know who she's waiting for or what to look for, so she just waits, playing with the straw in her drink absently.]

[eggplanting]

[Steph has made the sensible decision to pick an outfit that looks far more Westie than Leithian, which is honestly how her wardrobe leans anyway, it's just a bit more important when she's trying not to stick out.

The purple that Kate's wearing is much more noticeable, though she assumes that's kind of the point, since it makes it easy for Steph to spot her, wandering over as soon as she does.]

Do these sorts of things usually feel like blind dates?

[Covering up her nerves with humor is her modus operandi.]

[fledges]

[There she is. Younger than Kate expected, too, but it's always sort of nice to work with someone closer to her own age. Kate grins at the joke, shrugging.]

A little. I figured flowers would be overkill, so I went for subtle.

[Totally sarcastic. She definitely sticks out.]

[eggplanting]

[Alright, she's got a sense of humor, and that helps ease some of the tension in Steph's shoulders as she takes a seat, trying not to fidget.]

I wouldn't have turned them down.

[Look she's not really flirting, this is just how she works.]

[fledges]

I think that's probably some sort of breach of professionalism, but hey, who am I to say no to a customer?

[Also, professionalism and Kate have a hazy relationship.]

So, what can I do for you?

pre-game; 9 months ago; peter burke

[eggplanting]

[Stephani Brown is Leithian.

She knows this because it's written on her citizenship ID, on her Company profile, made obvious in the few personal effects that she owns. She has no memory of Leith beyond the last couple of months, but that doesn't matter. She is Leithian, so when she isn't in Company uniform, she dresses like one. Soft cotton and warm, earthy colours let her blend in amongst the crowd in the bazaar, which makes her feel a lot safer.

Blending in is important, even when doing something as boring as buying vegetables from a stall in the marketplace and the only people around are the shopkeeper and some older guy busy with his own groceries.

She's squinting at a durian (the fuck is this shit) when someone else approaches, apparently addressing both her and the man nearby.

Are you committed to protecting the rights of Leithians?

Steph has no idea what he's talking about, she has no memories of this conflict and is only starting to figure out the politics, so she mumbles something indistinct and hopes he leaves her alone. She's out of luck.

So you think we should just be handing our land over to those Westie rats?

And suddenly what he's talking about clues in, accompanied by a look of distress as she casts a glance at the man nearby, a silent help written on her face.]

[gauntlet]

[ Peter, much to his internal jaw gritting, is excruciatingly aware of the particulars here; his parents had stayed out of that mess, thank the trees, and if the time comes while he's still living, while he suspects he'll feel all the inherent nostalgia stemming from really, truly breaking away from a person's first home--in the end it's just land, and he believes in the value of the Accords. He's not naive enough to think they're not convenient shackles for the company, but they also represent the idea that hard work ultimately pays off.

So. He's used to turning an amicable but certain shoulder away this; from the sounds of what's going on just over there, the young woman he idly clocked as a person who catalogues everything about his surroundings definitely is not. It's probable he would have sidled over without the telegraphed ask for assistance, but that clinches it.

He shifts the bag he's carrying to a hip, no use putting it down unless things get dicey, but. Experience has taught him, for instance, not to wander around unarmed, so there's that. ]

Thanks, but no thanks. [ A little lift of his chin, inclined toward his very new acquaintance-- ] That goes for both of us.

[eggplanting]

[So far, Steph has found herself to be pretty capable of dealing with most things that come her way. It's reassuring, especially when she figured out that her aim with the Company supplied pistol was pretty good, but her real concerns aren't about personal safety in the immediate sense, so much as about someone figuring out that she's an imposter, that she doesn't have any damn idea what she's doing.

Should she care about this, the True Leithian nonsense? Will it make her obvious if she doesn't?

It's a relief when Peter steps in partly because he's a distraction, but also because it confirms that not everyone on Leith has to be so aggressive about the Accords.

The "preacher" is a little less appreciative of Peter's response.

You and your daughter will be on the wrong side of history if you don't support the cause.

There's a lot to unpack there, but Steph is, mostly, horrified at the apparently conclusion this guy has drawn about her relationship to a complete stranger.]

What? I'm not-- He isn't--

[Everything happens so much.]

[gauntlet]

[ Peter's ability to make unimpressed faces has been honed to a fine point by a year with Neal, so this one goes on for decades. ]

You guys make a lot of assumptions about genetics for somebody so obsessed with 'em. [ So, you know. No relation. ] Tell you what. If the wrong side of history is the not racist one? I'm okay with that.

[ He inclines his head just a little bit at Steph, brows up, amicable. ]

You okay with that?

[ It's just a guess, but he imagine she might be, ha ha. Also: what the hells are True Leithians, anyway? Planetists?? Birthers?? Whatever they are (racists), that's apparently not the answer their evangelizing friend is looking for, as he turns a couple shades redder and jabs a finger at Peter's chest. ]

[eggplanting]

[A response is on the tip of her tongue, an agreement with Peters assessment of the situation that she really isn't interested joining up with their cause.

But then the guy jabs Peter in the chest and there's a flare of anger at someone who was trying to do the right thing being targeted. It's drawing attention to herself to speak up, but she can't just ignore it.]

Are you sure you want to do this with a Company employee present?

[It isn't really pulling rank, just a quiet reminder that there are people around who take issue with True Leithians, and those people aren't really the people you want the attention of.

Luckily, it seems to give the man pause, and though he still looks angry, he takes a half step back from Peter.]

[gauntlet]

[ Peter's gaze flickers from this suddenly aggressive forefinger to Steph, seeing a new layer to someone he's just met. It make sense that drawing on Company clout would straighten a person's spine a little, so he accepts that as the Occam's Razor rationale, but--it makes him wonder, nonetheless.

Meanwhile, casually dropping the RAC agent thing might actually be pulling rank, since the Company is, in the present sense, a much more viable source of authority. Peter's glad he doesn't have to decide either way. ]

Thanks. No one here wants trouble, right?

[ This is actually directed at the man backing up, although he shot Steph a grateful look. He just wants to devote more than a single syllable to her in a minute here. ]

When you decide to serve your home, we'll still be here.

[ -- is the parting shot administered, if sullenly. The next target of this delightful sales pitch is a woman selling colored glass a few stalls over, enough that Peter keeps an eye out of his periphery - force of habit - but for the most part focuses on Steph. ]

A guy can't even get groceries anymore.

[ Delivered in an excess of dry. ]

early W4; juvia!

[eggplanting]

[It had started with an ache in her bones and has resulted in several days of rest, even the occasional harshness of the Company allowing her the time to recover from a sickness as bad as this. As far as she knows, no one in the Company has died from this yet, but that doesn't others haven't. Steph tries not to think about what it must be like on Westerley, where they don't have medicine to help.

And even she's not as bad off as some others, but she knows it would be a lot worse without the painkillers and whatever they've given her to ease the fever, along with an unpleasant tasting drink that keeps her electrolytes and energy up despite her lack of appetite. There's nothing to help with the hallucinations, but at least those aren't a physical symptom.

She'd declined a hospital bed, wanting to leave it open for anyone worse off, so she's stuck in her room, moving from the bed to the couch to the bathroom in a vague delirium.

When she hears a knock on the door, she frowns at it for a couple of seconds.]

Is someone there?

[It's good to check these things when hallucinations are the current status quo.]

[lacuscular]

[ Juvia isn't a stranger to seeing sickness at work, but it's still daunting to see once healthy co-workers put out of commission by something entirely out of their control. Which is part of the reason why (i.e., the entire reason why) she is there at Steph's doorstep. It took her five minutes of standing there, clutching at her oversized bag filled to the brim with equally oversized things, to finally knock.

Now, she's lost the courage to respond as soon as she calls out to see who, if it is actually anyone, is there. ]

It's Juvia! From work?

[ It takes her about thirty seconds before she finally responds, being careful not to be as loud as she usually is. And just so she won't think she's here for anything suspicious or weird, she quickly adds-- ]

You were gone for so long.. I thought I'd come and check up on you.

[eggplanting]

[For those thirty seconds, Steph is definitely convinced that she hallucinated the knock - most of the things she's experienced have been auditory so it fits that pattern - but when Juvia speaks she figures that's probably real.]

Oh.

[It takes her another second to kick herself into gear, but she makes it to the door not long after, taking a steadying breath before she pulls it open, trying to look a lot less shitty than she feels.]

Hi, uh, this is really sweet of you but are you sure you wanna risk getting sick?

[lacuscular]

[ She honest to god didn't expect her to come out so soon, or how bad she truly did look. She squeezes her bag a little harder, caught off guard when she realizes she didn't think far enough into this to know what to say in response to that chance. ]

Oh. [ Uh. Give her a second-- ] Juvia wears gloves, so it should be alright.

[ They're her enhancements, so she definitely wouldn't leave them anywhere at home. Which is why she's even wearing them now, despite her hands being sweaty. Her face softens, scrunching her brows with worry once the surprise wears off. ]

Is it OK if I come in?

[eggplanting]

[Steph actually isn't sure about how the virus is transmitted, but she figures if she's careful about not like, breathing on Juvia it should be alright.]

Yeah, come on in. [Steph takes a step back to give Juvia room, then sort of... vaguely gestures at the living room.] Sorry about the mess.

[It's not all that messy; there's a few blankets piled on the couch and a handful of dishes in the sink, but it feels messy to Steph.]

[lacuscular]

[ Juvia nods her head, and adjusts her bag in her hands before heading in. Once inside, gives her place a cursory glance over. ]

I don't understand? It's fine in here. What are you talking about? [ Sadly, she has no brain to mouth filter, so she ends up blurting it out before realizing in a panic that she might sound rude. Almost immediately after that realization does she slap down her bag on the ground, sifting through the contents in a hurry. ]

I have something for you though!! Juvia worked on it as soon as she heard you were sick..