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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"Heya neighbor!"

Two quick raps on the doorframe heralds his entrance before the bright greeting as he steps inside. Cayde looks around, pausing to admire the star up on the door with approval. "I really need to get my signs up."

For as sparsely furnished as the room is, it looks cozy. "Nice place you got here. If you need any help with furniture you might fancy, just let me know. That store's practically a second bedroom anyway," the Exo grins.

To say Clarice is startled by Cayde's demeanor is an outright understatement. He's his usual self, as though nothing had ever happened. Part of her wants desperately to run with it, to join him in the illusion and just carry on.

But she also knows the cost of burying trauma down deep, and how long and far it can spread its roots unchecked. She decides to settle for a middle ground and ease her way, see how far he'll let her in. She smiles.

"Thanks, Cayde, I 'ppreciate that. Maybe some real chairs if we can find such an animal, but for right now, it does what I need it to in between shifts at the diner and supply runs for folks. How's the Deep End looking, did you lose any fish while we were away?"

"Pff, chairs're easy. They got all kinds. The trick is making them more suited for human-height than awkward Agrii-height. Those guys are a little on the tall side. They make excellent barstools however, if you're into that."

There's a lot he's still processing in regards to the past month. It had been a special kind of nightmare, even though on the surface it looked anything but. The novelty had worn off quickly enough, and Cayde's more than happy to just focus on the now. His metal brows lift at the question, like as though it's something he hadn't thought to consider.

"Uh-oh, was I supposed to keep track? Oh wait, you mean like, in the tank, probably. Hard to tell- I think they were all there but then the kid's been by recently so, you know," he shrugs.

"Honestly I'd really love a nice soft easy chair, but that might take some doin'," she admitted. They'd need some glownie wool, at least, and maybe fabric that wasn't in use, but both of those things were a luxury and she wasn't going to deny anyone necessities for her own comfort.

She chuckles softly, knowing full well how much Grogu loved the fish in that tank: it had been her first experience with him, after all. "Tough to tell not knowin', as my daddy used to say. Yeah. ... Speakin' of food, though, we've got fruit in and I'm thinking of makin' tarts next time I'm in the diner. I'll save you a slice?"

"Hm. Not impossible. If we can't find one in the shop, I'm sure we can at least find a good base to work off of. And I happen to know a weaver..." Cayde says, his hand raised to the side of his mouth as he leans in an over-exaggerated conspiratorial manner.

He does know that fishing is on his short-list of things to probably get done. That's not something he feels like spending his afternoon doing just yet.

"Ooh! Tarts! -when's the last time I've had tarts? Have I ever had tarts? Okay, yeah- save me one."

Edited 2021-06-10 18:01 (UTC)

"A weaver? Really! That's a pretty unique skill, we're lucky to have someone who knows how. Who is it? I should introduce myself."

His excitement is contagious, and she beams at him. "Oh man, if you've never had a tart, you're in for a real treat. Especially if I get the crust to come out just right. We've got fresh butter, so odds are good it will."

"Her name's Lark. She's great- ran into her during the whole city thing. She can make magic maps! And stitch up your clothes without any needles, among other things." He'd been particularly excited about the whole magic map thing.

"Wait, wait, wait- if you're making pastries then that means we can make noodles too..."

"That's amazing. Holy shit, I'd love to see that. And I'll have to remember it when my pajamas from home start getting threadbare. I know I'm gonna cry the day that happens, they're the only thing I still have. Well, that and John's pistol, but I am really prayin' I never need to use it, let alone wear it out."

She gave him an impish smile. "We sure can. Fresh pasta was one of the first things Hannibal taught me to make from scratch. What style do you like?"

Boy is he glad he's not the only one who gets excited about watching someone magically mend clothing. Mention of the pistol does have him glance awkwardly away. It might not have been the same weapon, but it's hard to forget being shot at.

The subject of noodles is quickly latched onto. "I have not even considered pasta! Oh no, choices!!" He tosses his hands in mock frustration. "Actually I was thinkin' ramen. You a fan of spicy ramen?"

Clarice winced as he looked away, knowing exactly why. She was still recovering from the sight of him motionless on the tarmac outside the warehouse, herself.

His mocking gesture brought her back from that deep hole, and she laughed a little. "I've had a bowl or two of ramen in my life, yeah. I brought back some spices from Coruscant, you'll have to help me taste test once I figure out how to make the noodles right proper. You want it with the eggs and veggies in it, the Japanese way, or are you lookin' for the American bastardized stuff with just the packet fulla salt and spices?"

Cayde absolutely refuses to go down that hole himself, skirting its edges, dancing back, an ongoing trapeze act. The laugh makes him grin, and he brightens at the mention of her prizes from Coruscant.

"Spicy doesn't have to be overpowering! It's gotta...play nice with all the other flavors, you know? Eggs and veggies will do. Broth that's been squeezing out all the flavor out of...well I guess we don't have pork so we'll have to improvise on things."

"We don't, but that's alright. Half the fun of all this is discovering the native flavors and using them to create something all its own." There was something that mimicked pork quite well, but she wasn't about to touch on that with a ten-foot pole.

"It's too bad that we haven't found any fish that aren't poisonous yet, fish plays well in ramen too. ... The trickiest part, of course, is trying to figure out what's safe for consumption without risking any of us. I've been puzzling on that for a while now."

"Temba special," Cayde agrees, nodding. It'd be interesting, at the very least.

The point brought up is a good one, however. "Well, we can go off the kid's lead but who knows if he's got some natural immunity to toxic creatures or not. Too bad there's no actual guide that lists that kind of stuff."

She bit at her lip for a moment, eyes narrowed, her thoughtful face almost looking like annoyance. Then she snapped her fingers.

"Hot damn," she proclaimed. "Drake Riley. Little bugger's a scientist, and he brought back this really fancy probe from Coruscant. It's got some kind of molecular thing on it, too ... I can ask him if there's any way he can configure it to see if something's toxic. He was planning on using it to look for stuff like ore and ground water, so ... we'd have to be able to tell at least one of those was safe, right?"

Oh, he knows a thinky-thought face when he sees one.

Cayde blinks as Clarice snaps her fingers then. "Really? Well that'd sure save us the trouble of having someone volunteer as a taste tester! -I kid. But seriously? Seems worth a shot." He brightens. "Which means more fishing trips!"

"Mmhm! Just have to find him to talk to him." That might be the real problem, since Riley was a bit of a wallflower, more given to tending to science and discovery and actually doing things than socializing. It showed in how horrible he was at the latter, but she was finding herself a little fond of him in spite of that.

"You like fishin', then, Cayde? I haven't gone in a dog's age. Probably real rusty."

"Gotta track him down? Well, luckily you have a Hunter handy," he grins.

The question about fishing has him laugh again. "Honestly? Not all that much, but it's something to do if you feel like borderline doing nothing. 'course that depends on what's biting too, I guess. It's not too hard- I kinda worked it out. So long as something sticks to that hook when you pull it back up I call it a win."

"Thought you were a Guardian," she joked, though there was curiosity in her eyes. Did that mean he could track, like most did wild game? That was certainly a skill that would come in handy in a place that had still largely gone unexplored, especially if someone went out to find things and got themselves lost.

His glib remarks about fishing earn a smile that scrunches her nose. "You know, when you break it down that way, it's a lot less complicated than my uncle always used to make it sound. But what do you use for bait here?"

"Oh, I am. We are, actually. Guardians are kind of an umbrella term- hold on, lemmee do my Ikora voice for this." He clears his throat, speaking then in a softer, lecturey tone. "Guardians are generally referring to those who have been brought back to life by a Ghost, blessed by the Light of the Traveler. There are three classes that Guardians can be divided into in terms of ability- Hunters- who are the best of the three, by the way, Warlocks, and Titans."

Of course the point on Hunters is entirely subjective, but probably of no surprise considering who's speaking.

"I don't see why fishing has to be so complicated!" Cayde laughs. "Bait's usually anything that you got on hand that looks like it could be food. I have caught things on a scrap of leather either 'cuz it was moving like something enticing or someone was just starving."

Having not yet met Ikora, Clarice was only a little confused by the impression, but amused nonetheless. "I see. There are divisions like that in the FBI, too: intelligence, counterterrorism, criminal justice, and counterintelligence. They were just starting a cyber branch too, for internet crime. Hunters and Warlocks sound pretty self-explanatory, I guess, but what does a Titan do?"

The comment about bait makes her grin, but she figures the other subject has stronger bones for conversation. "Also, did I already offer you tea? If I didn't, my manners are somethin' awful today."

"Eh, they got big giant shoulders and do the heavy lifting," Cayde says dismissively. There's obviously more to it than that, but he'll happily play Titans and Warlocks down because Hunters are clearly the best.

"Tea? Don't think you did- not your fault, mine. I know I can be super distracting," he laughs. "I do remember tarts but those aren't existent yet."

"Aha. Yeah, we got those types in the Bureau, too." She snickered with a little roll of her eyes. "I think what I did was a bit like a hunter, really. Behavioral sciences, they called it. Studying people's habits to try and predict what they'd do next, and where."

She got up to make the tea, waving off his comment about being a distraction with a smile. "Not yet, but probably tomorrow or so, next time I get over there. The glueberries are setting now, soakin' up all the sugar and spices."

"That actually sounds more Warlocky. They do like to study. Mostly mysteries of the universe. But no, I see what you're getting at. Does fit in along Hunter lines," he grinned.

Cayde looks at the pillow set-up on the floor before flopping down on one. He pauses, leaning to the side as he glances at Clarice uncertainly then. "Um. And it's okay sticking stuff called glueberries in one's mouth?"

"Yep, the trick is to keep them air-tight until they can marinate in some lemon juice to break up the enzyme that makes 'em sticky." She grins back at him, glad he's comfortable in her space. "Took a little trial and error, but kitchen chemistry's my favorite kind. ... And yeah, there's a lot've study but I'd rather be out in the field followin' a lead than stuck hittin' the books. Real live people make for better experience than a case study any day."

Cayde laughs at that. "Oh, good to know! Not that I figure you'd feed people things called glueberries without confirming them to in fact be edible."

He nods along with her words. "You and me both. I am definitely an out-in-the-field person. Not that I don't like books, but way I see it, there's so much more to find and learn, so much faster too- by bein' out there to experience it."

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

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