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RP: Cirrus Station [Episode 9] The Silver Lining

So you don't touch Weathersby, now. This did not sit well with Blake. There was one thing about not having permission to touch, and that was okay. But the whole, 'nobody touches it, ever' was somehow against whatever compulsive neurosis Blake had. Paranoia which had already been mounting turned into unjustified hostility. Still, it looked like Stovaa was getting something out of this, and Blake wanted to befriend the man. He kept his piece too himself for once as he glanced over at the barrista sitting on his lap. She didn't seem to ashamed of the situation. Blake had to admit, Stovaa was such a rugged-yet-gentle looking creature that the artist himself would've liked to cuddle up against the man when he was feeling vulnerable.

Snapping back to the situation at hand, Blake made sure to examine Weathersby with a careful eye. He needed to know how or why touching this man was a bad idea. How could he trick Weathersby into touching him? Butlers like dusting off people's shoulders, didn't they?

"I say, Weathersvane." He took the shot in the dark approach, "Dust off my shoulders, if you don't mind. My arms are terribly sore from dancing and painting in the club earlier, otherwise I'd do it myself."
 
Following the head administrator into the suite, Tweak took the moment before Cassefin spoke again to look around. What she saw was, to her experience, lavish, even more so when compared with the barracks Squad 35 was allocated back on Cirrus. Her left arm, with the shopping bag looped around it, crossed over to tug her coat closed a little more while her other hand fidgeted with the cuff of the coat sleeve that mostly hid it. The room was spacious, and in this setting (with the knowledge that the accomodations may not be as benign as the Squad had been led to believe) space made her nervous. More space meant more hiding places, not just for her but for devices that anyone might have placed beforehand.

On a whim, Tweak scanned for transmissions originating within the room and pondered a jamming signal before deciding it wasn't prudent to use one. First, Cassefin was likely already assuming the room was bugged and if she hadn't already utilized her own devices, second, jamming a signal now would only bring attention to Tweak when the jamming was released when she left the room. It would also tip her hand (to use a gambling metaphor) and let anyone watching or listening in know that the guests from Cirrus were suspicious if not already aware.
Several parts of Cassefin's comment were flagged by Tweak's tactical system for reference and analysis; she was beginning to suspect it was bored (if that was possible for a non-sentient analysis program). Meanwhile...how was she supposed to respond to remark like that? What felt right for the situation was to accept it graciously but say nothing else. It might be a little too formal, but Tweak really couldn't think of anything to say, so she simply bowed her head in a nod of acknowledgment and a quiet "you're welcome."
 
Stovaa attempted to take the sudden entrance of the Barista into his lap in his stride, an odd metaphor considering he was sat down.
"Well, you're certainly eager to leave a good impression..." he said, a smirk curling up the corner of his mouth. Her sunglasses were next to him on the seat, but he decided to leave them there. He hated when he couldn't see someone's eyes, it denied him access to their ability to lie.

"Well, do you want to give a good impression to your future boss? If so, we'll need to go shopping. I'm gonna assume there's no staff discount for the shops in here, right?"

The Id-Sol glanced across at Blake, expecting him to be electrified by Weathersby in some illogical and hilarious situation. That'd be fun. QUickly though, his mind shot back to the young woman, in all honesty she was technically older than him, really, so why he regarded her as young was a mystery. Maybe he just felt old after all his years of bumming around, living kinda hand to mouth? He'd been pretty hobo low at least once or twice.

"Weird that I'm the sober one and you're crawling into my lap so happily."
 
Mr. Weathersby wiggled his mustache a bit as he simply watched Blake attempt to touch him, only to withdraw his hand as the young lady gave him a stern warning. "Forgive me, sirs, but I just happened to be walking past from a previous engagement and overheard a small portion of your conversation. I'm afraid you will have to be more specific with your request however; details would be appreciated."

The elder gentleman shook his head side to side afterward, in polite response to Blake's strange request. "I apologize, sir, but I am more of a concierge. If you need someone from the cleaning staff, I could notify one of them."

---

As Cassefin continued to carefully deconstruct her hair, she casually cast her glance over to the large windows framing the wall. The system's star had already passed over the horizon, but what lack of light the star had left was made up for by the lights of Fortuna city. Even as high as they were above the surface, other buildings of similar size rose beside them, illuminating the city in a blanket of white and colorful neon. For Tweak, it was hard to determine just what Cassefin was getting at. Scanning the room turned up nothing unusual, but it was impossible to get a real reading on the more important issue before her.

"You seem to be very friendly towards your co-workers, Tweak," Cassefin spoke again, continuing to watch out of the lane panes of glass. "So... what do you, ah, think of Captain Abeck?" She began to ask in a casual tone.
 
The barrista looked down at her position, and seemed to finally realize her situation. She shockingly flew off Stovaa, putting about as much distance as possible between her and the ID-SOL on that couch. Collecting herself, the coffee girl crossed her legs tightly and sat on her hands, turning up her nose slightly to give Stovaa a plain look.

"Dinner first. You don't get anything from me if I find out you can't get me a job." said the girl seriously, her eyes locking on him, a part of her still didn't seem too sure. "We'll go shopping when I get off work. I'm not picky, so it really shouldn't take too long. Ju-... Just don't get any ideas between now and dinner."
 
MoonMan said:
"So... what do you, ah, think of Captain Abeck?" She began to ask in a casual tone.
Click to expand...
Abeck? I thought his name was Chia--

Tweak's puzzlement was cut off by a series of search results, tagged by date and time, related to the captain of Cirrus's more elite security squad, not the captain of Squad 35. First off, she found that "Abeck" was his given name, not his family name (which was "Winston"). In addition...well, there wasn't much.

"I don't know much about him except what I have seen. He is very professional, reliable, courteous to his squad and everyone else..." Tweak paused. Some of her saved memories included interesting comments made by Claire, and some of Cassefin's behavior shifts (the ones Tweak had been present for since the tram incident, that is) when the captain was mentioned or present.

Is that what this is about? Glancing to one side for a moment, the 'Spacer neko tilted her head a bit, but decided to leave that suspicion alone. Instead, she shrugged. "I don't know anything else." Nevermind that the question was what did she think about Abeck, not what did she know. She didnt really want to make an opinion until she had more information about him. Like Kokuten. Tweak knew what she thought about him.

"Um...why do you ask? Captain Abeck is not part of my squad...is there something about him I should be aware of?"
 
"Well, no, I just thought you would have had more contact with him. He does seem reliable..." Cassefin nodded once, slight disappointment detectable in her tone. It was becoming obvious that the administrator didn't have a clear direction for that end of the conversation. "... so how long were you following your captain an I? Did you hear us talking?" Cassefin turned her glance casually over to Tweak, her question sounding casual but most definitely weighted.
 
What is this all about? Tweak had been expecting concerns about the dinner, not an off-the-cuff Q&A. And how was she supposed to answer this? Answer that she didn't hear and she would be lying as well as cutting off further conversation, but answering that she did risked Cassefin's anger or a possible minefield of questions on what she thought of the overheard exchange. I'm sorry, I can't deal with that.

"I arrived in time to board the lift. I needed, and still need, to find my room to prepare for the dinner." Let her make of that what she would. Tweak's professional persona was taking over and she slipped into it with relief at having a behavior template to follow instead of her usual social floundering, but tried to keep a handle on what was said. For some reason, she felt like Cassefin was looking for a friend and Tweak didn't want to miss the opportunity to get to know the admin better, just to avoid the current line of questioning.

Meanwhile, she just looked at the floor and waited for the administrator's reaction, wishing Claire was there to have this conversation...she was better at this sort of thing, wasn't she?
 
"Hey, I can guarantee you a foot in the door and a resumé at the top of the pile. The rest is up to your background checks and grades, kiddo," he fired back, straightening out his slightly dusty trousers. He regarded her carefully, sat somewhat further away than she was earlier, doing her best imitation of a nun, he imagined. "And you could do with being a little less above yourself right now, remember this was your idea. And no, I won't do anything stupid between now and dinner."

Stovaa breathed out slowly, glancing back at Blake, probably distracted with the cats that were so fond of him. "Great, we'll go shopping when you're done from here. You being picky doesn't matter, you need to make a good impression."
 
"Ah..." Cassefin replied in slight disappointment. The head administrator paused for a second before giving Tweak a short nod, clearing her throat before speaking again. By now she had finished pulling the various pins and ornaments out of her hair, the mass of red spilling over her shoulder as she ran her fingers through it a couple times to work out any remaining knots.

"Well... I don't want to keep you, Tweak. I suppose I'm just a little..." Cassefin paused for a moment, gathering her thoughts to spell out and sum up just what she had been dealing with for the past hour or so. "A little nervous. I suppose that's normal, right?"
 
Tweak nodded, relaxing a little as the administrator shared a little of what was bothering her.

"I am a bit nervous too," she offered with a slow, wry smile. "I almost expect something to go wrong, just because it seems all of our 'special assignments' seem to...not that this will! I really hope it doesn't and will do my best to see that everything goes well," she added quickly.
 
Blake nodded along with Stovaa, still presenting that unified front. He desperately wanted to get back to his room, put on a suit, and rush through the fancy Cranker dinner.

Then he could finally go gun-shopping, and maybe paint a few pictures. Although things were looking promising for playing with the young barrista's hopes and dreams, Blake was loosing interest in the construction of that particular parable. He shuffled out of the Badass Beans (TM) and made his was to the nearest elevator. He'd be back when the barrista got off work, dressed in a black suit with a black tie. He'd be sporting sunglasses and a moody attitude for the dinner. It was all make-believe, like a child playing dress-up, except for the fact that if anything serious happened Blake would be able to stay in character.
 
The barrista loosened her posture a bit, clearing he throat at the cowboy's remark. He was right, it was half her idea, especially considering how her future was on the line for it. Though, she was still wary of the large man, one much larger than her smaller frame. Her hands came up to her lap, and she looked at the floor uncomfortably, maybe feeling a little ashamed of her own haughtiness. After that moment, she perked up, quickly putting on her sunglasses.

"Yeah! I need to get back to work." said the barrista in shock, before standing straight up and walking back towards the counter. Half-way, she stopped, and turned back towards Stovaa to say one last thing. "My name is Fidela Jacinto, by the way." A look of embarrassment showed she was aware of her rudeness, and as such, she waited, staring at Stovaa expectantly for an answer.
 
Seeing the young girl shift her position on the matter, he smirked slightly.

"Yeah, go get back to work. We'll meet you hereabouts when you finish." He took a final drink of his coffee and pushed it away from him. The world wasn't moving anywhere near as much now and the Id-Sol reckoned he was going to be fine for walking around. He had to go find his room, get dusted off and sort out if he was going to need anything for the dinner himself.

He stood up and started to leave but stopped when the Barista told her his name. "I'm Stovaa Drakon. Pleased to meet you, miss Jacinto."

(When I read your post, I imagined her leaping into the air and fist pounding as she said "Yeah!" Oh, pop culture...)
 
Cassefin allowed herself to smile for a moment, happy to confide something and hear a similar reaction. "Thanks Tweak. I appreciate it," she said shortly as she rose up from her position near the couch. Her mood seemed significantly lightened, but the tiredness behind her eyes was still quite present, as was the light haze of drunken flush in her cheeks.

"Well... I don't want to keep you. I believe your room is Room 8734. The one across the hall, two doors down."
 
Tweak bowed her head in a short nod. "I am glad to help. And thank you for the directions." Her smile changed from wry to a small, but genuine, one, shifting the shopping bag's handles between her fingers which were hidden within her coat's sleeves. "We still have at least an hour before the dinner, don't we? If you need to sleep, I can stop by after I finish and wake you. The dinner is at eight o'clock local...how much time would you need to prepare?"

---

While Kokuten relaxed in the lobby near the elevators, he caught a few bars of a tune being hummed nearby, interspersed with whistling. A gangly fellow in a mismatched-but-tailored suit and a clean, but well-worn derby appeared from one of the several branching hallways and flopped down into an easy chair, his feet stretched out in front of him with his ankles crossed. Interlocking his fingers over his stomach, the man stared a bit at the rocky decorative waterfall-pool-thing before glancing around the room and smiling as he spotted Kokuten off to his left, giving the Cirrus squad captain a quick nod of greeting with friendly smile before rolling his neck a bit to loosen up a bit.

The suit wasn't terrible, just...used. The mismatching of pieces was subtle enough to not be outrageous or distracting. Main colors were fairly close to the same, but there was a different pattern for each in the cloth. The unbuttoned jacket was a solid color with a repeating, vertical triple-pinstripe pattern in gray; the pants had a striped pattern as well but instead of the stripes being a different color they were a different texture, something a little shiny in the right light. His vest was the same as the pants, except the shiny pattern was a checkerboard one. The shirt was a simple, button-down white shirt. In fact, the only things that matched were the shirt and hat, which was also solid white with a wide, plain black band around the crown.

The tune Mister "Derby Hat Wearer" was humming wasn't anything familiar so likely was made up on the spot. The way it seemed to move with his actions would support that assumption; the tune caught an impromptu hitching pause and a wince when his head reached a certain point in its rotation, but he quickly recovered, hiding the pain and resumed both the motion and the humming, laying his head on the chair back while resuming observation of the waterpiece when he finished.
 
Fidela

The barrista nodded her head with a little respect to the man before walking off back to her job. She was a little excited, albeit a bit anxious with the current proposal at hand, but overall she was indeed ready for this. It was time to score herself a job. After work, of course. Until then, it was time to act awkward every time she passed Stovaa during work.

----

Kokuten

The Captain had lit himself a cigar to calm his nerves after finishing his exchanges with Cassefin. Now, he was able to clear his mind, and get things into perspective as they flavored fumes of the cigar smoke hung in the air around him. He enjoyed the smell of Reubens; that already unique aroma of well-rolled cigars, mixed with the meaty and earthy scents of the Kennewesian province made his mind soothe itself over. His whole demeanor seemed to cool off, and the stress provided by Cassefin's unnatural ability to put others in danger whilst insulting them at the same time rolled right off. In fact, so did the stress of being in a potentially life-threatening situation later that evening. It almost felt like being back in the med-bay.

He gently recalled those days before then. Where the fights meant something, and that he was actually doing his job, instead of barely grasping at commanding soldiers. As much as he wanted to accept the place he was at now, everything was just too alien to him. No matter what his form said on the Cirrus, he was no commander. The stress provided by the position was enough to drive him on the edge of his patience, and it took every ounce of self-control not to jump down the throats of his questioning subordinates.

They're not soldiers, Kokuten. They aren't going to follow you like a soldier would. True, but with how they run around in uniform suits, and sleep like uniform soldiers, it all could've fooled him.

You're a civilian right now. No rank and bar. Take it easy! Also true, but that just made things all the more difficult. Without any military regulation, he had no real hold over any situation. They were soldiers in a civilian setting, which only accounts for chaos.

Chaos is fun, right? Have fun! Yeah. Have fun. Kokuten of all people. That requires removing some inhibitors, and the Captain didn't see any alcohol in the immediate vicinity, much less any on the station.

During his relaxation and reflection, he took notice of the oddly-dressed man near him. He offered his own greeting smile in response to the man's politeness, not wanting it to go unrecognized.

"Good afternoon." said the Captain, waving his smoking cigar at the other man gently.
 
"A fine evening to you, likewise." The voice delivering the reply matched the man: affable, amused, somewhat reedy. He lifted a hand to touch the brim of his hat briefly, still watching the miniature waterfall.

He paused his humming and lay his head back until he was looking at the ceiling, then rolled his head to the side to look at Kokuten, or the cigar. "Found yourself a good one, huh?" he mused. He spoke low enough that he might have been talking to himself, or he could be expecting a reply. Even then, the subject of his comment wasn't very clear. The cigar, the chair, or maybe he had been standing around when the Cirrus trio had left the elevator and noticed the captain with Cassefin?
 
The man was odd looking, maybe even odd acting, but then again, this was Fortuna. Odd looking people were all over the place on this planet. Not only that, he had been around odd people all the time, considering what hours he had spent with Blake and Tweak. It made him wonder why he had even considered the thought. Maybe the Captain was still feeling a little on edge due to the awareness of the owners of the place. No matter, it was nice to meet someone new, especially one with manners.

"Found yourself a good one, huh?" he mused. He spoke low enough that he might have been talking to himself, or he could be expecting a reply. Even then, the subject of his comment wasn't very clear.
Click to expand...

Kokuten's eyebrows popped up for a moment, a little surprised since he was just about to settle back down into the chair. He almost missed the words spoken in his direction.

"Excuse me?" asked Kokuten, a curious look on his face, "I'm sorry. I didn't hear you."
 
"The chair." The man nodded toward Kokuten, his eyes shifting to the mentioned object, then back to the fountain, his head remaining aimed at the ceiling. "I like the chairs on this floor. Something that the others don't have, not sure what it is, but it's there."
 
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