revivalproject | (Network & Log) somebody to lean on

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(Network & Log) somebody to lean on - forward-dated

[the video feed cuts in to show Clarice, freshly showered, wet hair pulled back, dressed in the silk pajamas she arrived in - because she needed a little comfort, a little piece of home. she's got a cup of tea cradled in her hands, and while she still looks a little tired, her eyes are clear and present]

Hey, everybody. I think I've met most of you by now, if only by seein' you at the community meeting a month or so ago, but if you don't recall, my name's Clarice Starling. I know we've all been through a lot the last few weeks, and this isn't a place to point fingers or blow off steam... I just want to let you all know that I used to work with victims of violent crime, so I now a thing or two about lending an ear after people've been through trauma. If you feel comfortable with coming to talk, my door's open. I'm two floors down from the Deep End, the one with the metal star hangin' on the door. I'll be happy to take the time.

☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆

WHO: Clarice Starling & You
WHERE: Clarice's room (or anywhere else you might want to meet up)
WHAT: Talking out the aftermath of Bill-E-tropolis
WHEN: The week after they all return to Temba
WARNINGS: Discussion of trauma, flavors vary! Please label your top levels for folks.

A: Clarice's Room
The metal star on the door Clarice mentioned is a decoration she picked up on Coruscant - made of some sort of light, fine alloy that shines green like light underwater at the right angle. She hasn't done much else to make the little run-down hotel room hers yet, save for set up a bundle of blankets and pillows in one corner to sleep on, and put in hooks to hang her clothing on the wall. A few pads of paper sit next to the bundle, and there are a few extra pillows for company to sit on. She's already sketched a few things: vistas from Coruscant, a few rough portraits of familiar faces from home, before they're too lost to memory. She's no Da Vinci, but they're passable enough.

When the door opens, she's sitting on her makeshift bed, one of the pads in her lap, making herself a list of the tasks she wants to catch up on. At the sight of a familiar face, she smiles.

"Hey, come on in."

B: Dealer's Choice
(Start your own TL if you want, she's flexible.)

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"I bring what I can afford." He let her take the beer then offered her a knife to get the cap off. Cobb didn't understand why someone would make a bottle so hard to open when the whole purpose was to drink what was inside.

He nodded as he took the knife back and opened his beer. "Kid tends to care a lot about people. Just wanted to make sure you were okay as well."

Which was Cobb's mission. Might not be necessary given her attitude. "Since you're offerin' to look after everyone."

"Much obliged," she said to the offer of the knife, using it to crack the top off like an old pro. She'd done it with her share of Coke bottles as a kid, after all, her father teaching her how to do it with a butter knife on the front step of the porch as they watched the fireflies gather in the brush across the thin dirt road they'd lived on.

"That's good've you," she said, and meant it. He was making such a good, genuine effort, and his manner had put her at ease from Day One, so after a long, thoughtful pull at that beer, she decided to hand the mantle to him for a moment.

"I think a part of me knew it was wrong, all along. Something deep inside that I was choosing to ignore. I was never in charge of anything before, let alone something that big and important. It would have been like waking up one morning and being Director of the whole-ass F.B.I. back home. I never wanted to be in charge, I just always wanted to help, is all. Sure, sometimes I'd think 'wouldn't it be nice if I had the power to fix this problem or that one' ... but bein' in charge? Didn't seem like I did much fixin' then, either. Mostly I just gave a bunch of orders and ran around puttin' out other people's fires."

"Sometimes you don't imagine yourself in charge but you end up there. And you've got a choice to step up and lead or run from it. Fake world or not, you stepped up. Should be proud of that. That's in you somewhere." Cobb was damn unsettled about having his whole mind and self changed but really... it hadn't been that bad. His life had been good there.

He took a drink of beer and nodded his head towards the exit. "Could go for a walk if you're feelin' cooped up."

Cobb preferred to walk and talk whenever possible. Sitting still was not something he was good at. But if she wanted to stay in, he'd find some way to keep himself busy. "Unless you'd rather sit again."

"Nah, walk sounds good. I could stand to stretch my legs." She could understand his affinity for being outdoors, being productive: from what little she knew of his home world, his life there, being idle must have seemed nigh on sacreligious.

She let him lead the way, not really caring where they went. "Is it strange adjusting to having normal sight again? I'd imagine everything must feel so bright."

"A little but I wasn't really blind. I could see things in this weird outline sort of way." Cobb had a damn good look at the world like that. More importantly, he could hear better. He would miss that ability to hear people lying. "Kind of reminded me of lookin' through a helmet's thermal vision."

He had gotten through the world pretty comfortably.

"Weird, but not the strangest thing to happen in that whole world." There was a part of Cobb that missed it, actually. He had a real easy life there even being blind.

"Thermal goggles, huh?" She shivered a little, despite the warm weather. "I ... had quite the incident with someone wearin' a pair of those once. Not anything I'd ever care to repeat."

Unconsciously, she reached up to touch the tiny black mark on her cheek - one that some might mistake for a beauty mark, but a fighter like Cobb would see for what it was: a gunpowder burn.

"Well, I don't have it anymore." He tapped the corner of his eye with a finger. "Just the same old eyes now. See perfectly fine. Can't read the fine print but that's nothing new."

He considered asking for the story but it didn't sound like a good one. Probably not a nice one to revisit after what had happened to them recently. People needed to move forward.

"You get lots of folks talking to you?" he asked, a little curious.

Honestly, if he had asked, she wouldn't have minded telling him. Grounding herself in her real memories, even the unpleasant ones, had merit at the moment.

"More than I expected, and one I hadn't really talked to much before now, too. I think it's helping. D'you know someone named Beck?"

The way things were in Mos Pelgo when someone wanted to talk, they'd start talking. Folks would listen and then everyone would move on. They all shared roughly the same past and the same pains. No reason to bring it up unless it needed to get out.

"Beck. I know of him but I don't think I've ever really talked to the man." Cobb hadn't made a lot of effort to meet everyone. He wasn't a marshal here and didn't need to know everyone's stories. "You worried about him?"

He didn't think Starling saw the man as a threat.

"Depends on which sense of 'worried' you mean," she said thoughtfully, lacing her fingers together and stretching her arms up above her head as they walked, like a plant reaching for the sun.

"My gut's telling me something's going on under the surface with him: but that might be trauma resulting from everything that happened. It's hard to say just yet. Mostly, he's worried that he's really capable of some of the things he did and regrets. I told him to just be self-aware and reach out for help if he needs it."

Starling doesn't want to believe that any of them are honestly that calculating or cruel, especially some of the things that Beck shared with her. But she also knows that the mind is a complicated place, and people can be worlds different at heart from what they present to others.

"Honestly, the best practice for all of us is to be aware of ourselves going forward. Mindful. Patient with each other." She sighs slowly. "I'm no headshrinker, but I don't want this to dissolve into a bunch of grudges held over things that happened when we weren't ourselves. It would cause the restoration effort a lot more harm than good."

"I'm gonna talk to the kid. To Billy. See how he's doing after all that and make sure he's okay." Cobb wanted to talk to him. There were so many things he wanted to say and thank the kid for.

That life it had been good even if it had all been a lie.

"But I don't know. I don't feel any grudges towards folks. Then again, I wasn't involved in much trouble." He hadn't been that important in that city as a hero and as a reporter. Middle of the pack, really. Cobb hadn't even made it to the final fight in the end.

Most important thing that had happened to him was a personal relationship. Maker he hoped Din would still call him friend after all that.

"I am, too," she agreed with him, as far as Billy was concerned. "I wanna give him a couple days first, though. Lauri-Ell says he's tuckered right the hell out, and all things considered, I'm not surprised."

If she'd been running an entire illusory city for that long, affecting that many people's thoughts and memories, it'd tire her out too. She could only imagine, considering how much effort it had taken her to make her mind palace.

"I'm glad there're those of us who had good things happen, though. It'll make it a little easier for him to cope. ... Not only that, but ... there might be parts of ourselves we saw that we could stand to cultivate a little more here. Y'know what I mean?"

Cobb thought about his fake life for a moment. The lightness he felt. The way he had laughed and smiled more. The 'daughter' he had loved. It had been a damn good life for him. The best he'd ever known and it was all fake.

Now, he was back in this prison with all the weight of his past on his shoulders again. Just his luck.

"You're an optimist, Starling. I can't say these folks have ever struck me as the self-reflective type." And himself included in that statement. Cobb might think about what it'd be like to be that light here but... he wouldn't really push to try and be that.

"But there's a first time for everything, right?"

"I'm tryin' to be, Cobb. Glad it seems to be workin'." At his remark about folks not exactly being self-reflective, she gave a little chuckle of agreement.

"I have to agree with you there. I think most folks' idea of self-reflection involves seein' themselves in the bottom of a glass." Particularly Eddie's friend, the comedian. What had his name - oh yes. Richie. 'Trashmouth'. The one who'd suggested AlAnon minus the actual sobriety at the Town Meeting.

"I won't lie, it can be hard work. Sure as hell was when I did it. Some real ugly parts, too. But I had somebody to help me through it to the other side, and now that I'm where I'm at, I can hopefully do the same for some've you. If'n anyone wants to, and trusts me."

Cobb didn't see too much of a problem with that. Sometimes the only thing that softened his edges was a glass of spotchka. Now, he didn't want to drink excessively like the town drunk who never found the bottle of the glass or the bottom of the bottle.

"This place is lucky to have you. Most wouldn't care about strangers like you do." Cobb didn't think it would be easy on her to take on everyone's burdens like that. He couldn't imagine ever wanting to take that much on himself.

He toasted her with his beer bottle for a bit of irony. "Good luck to you, friend."

She saw that irony, and it earned him a bright laugh, one she needed sorely to break up all the long hours with her new friends. He was right: it was a heavy task, but if it meant making things smoother in the long run, helping them deal the way she had been able to, it would be worth it. And maybe in time they'd be able to return the favor for her when she needed it.

"Thank you kindly." She clinked her bottle against his and took another pull, savoring the flavor of it, amusing herself with trying to pick out any notes she recognized. Something was just a little floral on the back end, but not too much. Maybe something to do with whatever they used instead of hops.

"What've you got coming up on your to-do list for the housing project?"

Edited (nasty nasty typoses) 2021-06-15 16:29 (UTC)

"Well, got two houses finished up and ready for folks to move in. Got that done before we went on that little adventure." Cobb had been glad to see the houses hadn't suffered any damage while gone. He'd been a bit worried about that.

"But I'm getting to the ones that will require more work. Probably be another month or two before all of them are done." He scratched his beard as he thought about exactly what he needed to get done. "Mostly it's fixin' up floors and walls, replacing some windows. Not a lot of electrical work or plumbing. Some but not bad."

The house he stayed in needed the most work so he was picking at that one in between the others.

"Hot damn, you're fast!" Her eyes widened almost as much as her grin. "We'll have to have a housewarmin' party when the first folks move in. I've got enough of the foodstuffs here figured out that I can make a pie, maybe a nice little spread for everyone."

She glanced around, trying to figure out how far away they were from the worksites. "Don't suppose a gal could get a tour?"

Cobb chuckled softly. "The first ones didn't need much work."

He changed their course, turning towards the houses. They would have to walk for a little bit but he didn't think she'd minds.

"I started with the easiest ones. They're going to take me longer as I go," he explained. "Seemed like the fastest way to get folks into houses. People could share if they wanted."

Cobb was right, of course: she'd jogged both out of necessity and as a hobby when she was still with the Bureau - the distance wasn't any difference to her.

"Maybe I'll move out've the hotel," she mused. "It'd give me a good long jog to the diner in the mornings, keep me from gettin' lazy. But I'd let Sansa and Padme have first crack, a'course. Because of the babies."

The babies... she turned and tilted her head at him, remembering how close he'd stayed to Djarin during Padme's party in the illusory city. "Where're Din and Grogu livin', anyway?"

"I believe they're at the Jedi temple or the ships still." Cobb shrugged. Those two didn't seem interested in a house which made sense. Din had lived in his ship for a long time.

"I think Padme's at the Temple as well. She's got Obi-Wan lookin' out for her." He really should make an announcement about the houses. Maybe in a few days when everyone was settled. Or maybe after he had two more so there would be four houses for folks to claim.

"Would you share it?" he asked, glancing at Starling. "If someone else wanted one. We don't have too many worth living in."

"Absolutely, I would. Feels weird livin' on my own. I've had roommates ever since I was at the Lutheran orphanage. Then college, then Quantico - and even after that, my roommate from the FBI training, Ardelia ... we got a duplex together. That's like - you have two houses but they're joined together at the kitchen. So you each have a bedroom and some livin' space, but you always come together for meals and such. It's nice."

Cobb nods. That's a good thing to know. He wanted his own place because all his life had been forced communal living. His own space and his own privacy, Cobb needed that.

"Don't think we've got any houses like that," he muses with a little sigh. "But after these houses are done, we can look around the city see if we can find some other places worth fixing up."

Maybe some closer to town. Cobb found himself enjoying the work of repairing places.

"Could always remodel one of those ruined shopping complexes," she mused, thinking of some of the viable structures she'd seen when out and around with Lauri-Ell. "They've still got what my Daddy woulda called 'good bones'. Tell you what, if I see anything that looks like it's got promise, I'll let'cha know."

"One of those would be a big project for a lot of folks." Cobb frowned, a little daunted by the idea of fixing one of those. He had already made a few mistakes and fixed them while fixing up the houses.

A whole complex? Cobb wasn't sure he could do that on his own without possibly ruining the whole thing.

"But might be worth it after I'm done with what I've got." Because Cobb would need some other project. Otherwise he'd get bored.

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thesepreciousthings - 2021-07-11 17:15 (UTC) - Expand

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(Network & Log) somebody to lean on - forward-dated

Because they like her

she has the best friends

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