versusnurture | second ♢ spam & private

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second ♢ spam & private

[Abigail spends a lot of time with Tyrion, but not all of it. Occasionally she makes quiet escapes, flitting from sight to sight like a songbird. In the end, though, she settles at a coffee shop with newly purchased books - The Violent Bear It Away first, then The Optimist's Daughter.]

[She tells Tyrion where she is, so he won't worry or (more importantly) come looking for her. Every few hours she gets up and wanders the neighborhood, a shopping district. She thoroughly enjoys her anonymity; she hasn't had any for a while.]

private/text | david

Do you like it here? I'm bored.

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It's only the second human city I've ever visited.

Okay. But do you like it here?

It's interesting.

Why don't you like it?

It's just kind of loud. And I'm not sure where to start.

Is a warden with you?

Periodically. He has an entourage because he looks like a famous person.

Who?

Who's the warden or who's the famous person?

The warden.

His name is Tyrion. But he's not here right now.

Would you like company?

[She just sends him the address. Figure it out yourself, smarty-pants.]

[Well, he's just going to show up on the other side of the street about fifteen minutes later. Hi.]

[That's not creepy at all, David. She waves at him from across the street, then navigates traffic to make it to his side.]

Hi.

You're taller in person.

[He's not really sure what to say to that, and he doesn't shrug, so he just doesn't say anything at all. Good compromise, right?

He definitely looks a little strange though in his gray pants and green jacket, but doesn't seem particularly uncomfortable with what's going on around him. It's interesting.]

Have you been to this city before?

[It's a good enough compromise. It makes her smile, a brief flash of understanding at his lack of understanding.]

Los Angeles? No. I've been to California, once, when my parents went to a vineyard. It was boring, but it was quieter.

Where do you want to go?

I don't know. I'm not very familiar with where one would go, here.

[He's had a lot of other stuff to think about that doesn't involve LA. B(]

[She tilts her head at him, trying to figure out what, exactly, he wants to do - if anything.]

We could just walk. I don't really want to sightsee. I just want to - be out.

[Where people won't know her.]

That sounds perfectly fine by me.

[He absolutely doesn't have an agenda. Getting off the ship had been a display of free will more than anything else, proving that he could get out and about without needing to get anyone's permission for it. He was curious about the outside world, but in many ways, it was overwhelming too, for someone who had spent most of his existence in a very confined setting.]

Okay. Come on, then.

[She doesn't say it gently or like an order, either. She just wants to go, wants to be moving. With a friend. Since her last one got hung up on hooks.]

[She starts walking down the street, assuming David will follow her.]

[He does, and he doesn't try to strike up conversation. He doesn't need it to be entertained, and even if he did, he's too busy watching the comings and goings of the other people in the city to mind the quiet between them.

He thinks he prefers space. But this is interesting.]

[ Here is a blue person, Abigail. A blue person you may have caught a glimpse of on the ship, or maybe you can just find it really weird that nobody around the blue person appears to be acknowledging the blue or even, indeed, noticing anything out of the ordinary.

She's window shopping for boots. ]

[That - huh.]

[Well, she's already met someone who doesn't know what 'up the creek' means, and also space rehab for broken souls, so she's hardly surprised. It's an educated guess that Raven's from the ship, given that she hasn't actually been out and about much without an escort. (This is her design.)]

[She scoots up beside Raven, peering at the boots.]

Which ones?

[ Raven never forgets a face. This is something she's noticed once or twice, when she's with Charles. He can forget what someone looks like. She never does. She's hardly seen a glimpse of Abigail's face, but recognition is immediate, and she's got a ready smile.

This is all so neat. ]

I don't know. I was thinking the black. Do you like any?

[She leans in closer to the window, which is in part an effort to avoid the brightness of that smile - Raven recognizes her. Well, it's not like she's been all that quiet, although she hasn't gutted anybody like some people.]

I like the black, too. Can you really take souvenirs back?

I didn't bring many changes of clothes when I came to the Barge, so I hope so.

Do you have a warden around? I don't mind paying for you.

Um, he's around somewhere. You don't have to, though. It's okay.

[politepolite]

If he's he then he's probably worse than useless.

[ The only time Raven ever felt remotely close to Charles' mother was when Charles' mother bought her things. Clothes.

She nods a head towards the store. ]

Let's try them on.

[She briefly tries to imagine Tyrion in the boots, fails utterly, and acquiesces.]

Okay, good point.

[And ducks into the store, holding the door open so it doesn't hit Raven in the face.]

[ what would they, come up to his hips

Raven slips inside behind her. The store is a boutique; no stacks of shoeboxes here, just boots artfully displayed on the shelves.

Raven waves over an attendant. ]

Can we see that one, and... that one, and that one, in - what size are you, 7?

[ Raven has a good eye for this sort of thing. ]

And in 8.

[This is slightly intimidating, especially given the fact that Raven seems to know exactly what she's doing. Abigail watches the attendant hop around fetching their shoes, then glances at Raven, wondering if it's better or worse that they don't notice her.]

You can tell just by looking?

[ She perches down on a bench. ]

In my world, I'm what's called a mutant. I have a power, to change how I look. [ Saying this so directly gives her no end of apprehension, and she decides, impulsively, not to hide the fact that she's a little nervous about it. ] It's just practice - I'm a pretty quick judge of bone structure. [ Which is one of the less creepy ways of saying she can tell the size of body parts at a glance.

She leans in a little closer to Abigail. ]

I'm from about a half-century in the past of this world. I have no idea what I'm doing. [ She's spotted Abigail's slight trepidation. ] But I was adopted by a really rich family, and, believe me, attitude - and an unlimited credit card - count for a lot.

Attitude always counts for a lot.

[There's the faintest hint of "well duh" behind the faux-frailty now. Raven is someone she might be able to learn something from. She's more interested in the attitude than the mutation, though.]

What year are you from?

[ It doesn't surprise her, somehow, that there's something under the frailty. Doesn't Raven pretend at frailty too? ]

1963.

[ She feels that: interest. Intrigue, from the other girl. It, in turn, interests her. ]

I'm Raven.

I'm Abigail.

[She smiles, wrinkling her nose a little.]

What part of 1963? A lot of stuff happened that year.

[She did pay attention in history. Enough that she wants to know the differences between her world and Raven's.]

[ The boots are back now, and Raven nudges the correct pair over to Abigail, while trying them herself. ]

Well. Do you have mutants, in your world?

[She rolls her eyes, starts tugging the boots on. She doesn't think she's ever held anything so expensive in her life.]

No. Just people.

Is it tight in the calf?

[ Raven can reform how she looks to fit it, obviously, but when she stands in front of the mirror, she sees the flaws in structure. The designer was more concerned with straight lines than how a person's leg actually works - meaning the boot looks very good on a mannequin. ]

Hmm. I don't like it, really.

- In my world, there was a standoff over Cuba. Russians were going to place missiles in, and the United States wouldn't let them. A mutant named Sebastian Shaw wanted to turn it into nuclear war. I was there.

Um. A little.

[She glances down at the boots. There's a touch of genuine insecurity about this.]

You stopped it?

[She assumes that must be the case. That Raven is some kind of hero. Why else would she be a warden? Someone with blinding optimism and no self-doubt.]

[Which is why Will wouldn't be.]

I helped.

...I was there, anyway.

[ She doesn't want to overestimate her contribution. Next time, she'll be better. ]

. . . So you don't actually think you helped?

[She covers her mouth, abruptly.]

Sorry. That was rude. Just - you don't seem sure.

[ Surprisingly, this doesn't sting that much. Maybe it's because something Raven has already thought about, too much.] It's okay.

I helped. I wasn't all that important, though.

Edited 2013-08-11 10:41 (UTC)

It's still more than I've done.

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