[OPEN] we expected something

[alittlesweptup]

Date: various; post-zombie attack
Location: Various
Characters: Charlie Cutter and YOU
Summary: Skullduggery Charlie does his homework.
Warnings: None (as of yet, will edit if applicable)
Notes: Get yer pre-mutiny CR building opportunities here!

[CAFETERIA]
[Gathering supplies - food, medical kit - is all vital, but being well fortified isn't what's going to win them anything in the end. So more and more, Charlie can be found with his nose in his tablet reading and making notes, brow furrowed and mouth pinched into a thin line.

Reading, research, quoting lines back - all that he can do. But figuring out how to order his own words properly, anything to do with writing something respectable of his own? Less his forte. Oh, he's a good liar when he needs to be, but he's not stupid enough to think they'll slide through this with a little fast talk.

So he's hunched over a meager lunch from what's left of the cafeteria's stores in the wake of the zombie invasion, carefully making notations in hard copies of old speeches that he's found in the AI's database.

Christ, it's the sort of thing designed to produce a headache.]

[VR ROOMS]
[Charlie hasn't actually spent much time in the VR rooms, but they've got their advantages. Though he doesn't go so far as to bother with constructing anything complete, but rather spends some time tinkering up partial floor plans. It's something he'd usually prefer to have on paper, but resources are scarce and - if he'd being exceedingly honest - he's never been much of an artist.

He runs the builds late in the evening when someone's more likely to go off to one of the other compartments rather than take too close a look at what he's doing, but that doesn't necessarily mean his work always goes uninterrupted.]


(ooc: any format is a-okay and if neither option appeals to you, feel free to throw up something random and I can just tag in as is appropriate.)

Comments

(cafeteria)

[oncearanger]

[Billy's always overloaded with tools these days, fixing here and tweaking there. When he stops for his bland daily supplement, he catches sight of Charlie bent over...something. Lots of research, it looks like. He waves from across the table.]

I didn't think we had all that much to read up here, but it's probably a good idea.

[alittlesweptup]

[The motion from the corner of his eye catches Charlie's attention, though for a moment he willfully tries to ignore it - not because he doesn't necessarily want to talk to Billy, just it's a difficult passage and he's almost-- almost--

Oh for Christ's sake.

Charlie taps away from the file on his tablet and looks up. He lifts a hand in a dull semblance of a returned wave.] The AI's got some odd stuff in its files; makes for a good way to fill the time.

[oncearanger]

How odd?

I imagine it's old, given all the glitches we've experienced. But I never thought to investigate why.

[He crosses his arms and sighs. He recognizes Charlie's irritation, so he doesn't plan to stay long, but he is curious]

[alittlesweptup]

[That gets an impassive shrug, noncommittal in a lot of ways.] Mostly it's historical documents - old government dossiers, half the contents blacked out. That sort of thing. Dull as dishwater unless you've a head for it. [Half declassified files left over from old versions of the world aren't his favorite thing right now. Any other day? Absolutely. But having to sift through them while trying to unearth useful files is like separating wheat from chaff.

Charlie nods to the tools Billy has with him.] I see you're keeping busy.

[oncearanger]

I'm still fixing the base. I'm learning how to operate a spacesuit so we can fix the breach in the shower walls now.

I guess it's a little grueling---fix something, something else breaks, and we never quite know what's happening.

[alittlesweptup]

Breach in the shower walls. [He repeats carefully. Lovely.] My advice would be to keep the helmet on, for starters.

[oncearanger]

I have been, don't worry.

[He grins, but it's not quite sincere.]

I'd love to get home before a bigger catastrophe can happen. A few good punctures and we die.

Day after zombies?? Day after zombies. Fingers crossed this goes well.

[totallytrustworthy]

[Infection effectively dealt with, patrols less vital than repair-work, Chloe doesn't skip a beat swapping out the hefty rifle on her back for a banged-up hammer. It means running a full double shift's worth of serious labor, but if she's honest with herself, she'd rather be pinning up holes than creeping back to a room that's too cramped. Too cold.

Too likely to have Charlie Cutter curled up for a post-disaster rest.

So she waits. Bolts up and beats on walls till enough time's past that she feels comfortable creeping in and catching nearly nine hours of sleep. And from there it's--

Well it's aimless. Not tired enough to sleep any longer, nothing to fixate on; it's entirely on accident when she meanders past one of the VR rooms and spots the soft glow of artificial light illuminating the near unmistakable outline of Charlie's profile.]

If you're thinking about remodeling, you might want to shift housing more to the south.

[alittlesweptup]

[It's not that they've been avoiding each other - at least he doesn't think that's what they've been doing -, it's just...they've both been busy. And she wasn't wrong; the first thing Charlie had done once all the zombies had been cleared out of the base was to crash in their reclaimed closet and sleep uninterrupted by dreams or anything else for almost seven hours.

So they'd just missed each other. Which should mean he's more pleased to hear her voice than he actually is. Instead Charlie pauses slightly, tipping his head in her direction (though his gaze doesn't follow to catch her until a beat later). He's not unhappy to see her, just--]

Let the AI know, shall I?

[totallytrustworthy]

Dunno if it'll be all for making this place look like a giant cock, but you never know.

[She knows, though. It's not in his expression when he (finally) moves to glance her way-- might be in his voice, but they're both worn enough to be split at the seams. More than anything she knows how he feels because it's the reason she's propped up against the doorway instead of at his side. Like there's a line drawn on the floor dictating what's his and what's hers.]

[alittlesweptup]

[He laughs despite himself - not loud or long, but there's a genuine note of pleasure there and his mouth quirks briefly at the corner.]

It would go a long way to explain all the wanking about that's been going on though.

[He absently glances back to the schematic, tweaks something negligible more as an excuse to put his hands to something. There's a beat, then:] Want to take a look at this?

[totallytrustworthy]

Well the Initiative does need a mascot, doesn't it? [There's no grin on her end when he laughs (or when he teases for that matter) but there's something there tugging at the corner of her mouth as she drops her chin in a sort of agreement. Steps across the threshold and settles down in the space just next to his elbow. Close, but not terribly so.]

[alittlesweptup]

I thought that's what Goodman was.

[It's as safe a topic as any. Charlie doesn't shift to close the gap between them or anything, just turns the schematic over so she can get a proper look at the thing.] It's not to scale or anything, but it'll do. [Not that he hadn't tried; he'd walked up and down the corridors in housing counting out how many strides it took him to go from one end to the other.]

cafeteria / 8th

[gevurah]

[ Kate's going to go cross-eyed given the amount of reading she does these days. Without a training room to physically exert herself, she's pours her time into reading information available the tablet, stalking people via the network, and attempting to cross-reference information scattered all around it.

Alas, she's human and requires food to sustain herself after a day without a proper meal. She heads to the cafeteria, gathers a cup of coffee and dried banana slices, instant noodles, and today's curiosity: freeze-dried eggs.

The cafeteria always seems busy, so she finds an empty spot at Charlie's table and before she sits down Charlie will find an awfully pale woman asking: ]

Mind?

Re: cafeteria / 8th

[alittlesweptup]

[He's hardly picked at his own plate, too engrossed (and clearly low-key, mild brand of frustrated) by whatever he's picking through on his tablet. It takes him a moment to realize someone's talking to him; he glances up quickly enough then, blinking at her across his knuckles where he's got his chin pressed into his palm.]

What? Oh, yeah. [With a hand wave to the empty seat:] Have at it, love.

[gevurah]

[ She nods in thanks and seats herself, setting out the food she's gathered. The freeze-dried eggs are the first to get sampled, but the moment she puts one in her mouth, her expression falls blank and she doesn't chew nor swallow.

Oh, that's disgusting. ]

[alittlesweptup]

[What exactly encourages him to shoot her another glance, he's not sure of - but it means he catches the vacant expression that hits her face the moment after the egg goes in her mouth.

Charlie wordlessly untucks his napkin from under the edge of his tray and wordlessly slides it over to her. If she's going to spit anything out--]

[gevurah]

[ Her eyes trail to the napkin and she takes it, spreading it around her mouth and pushing out the piece of egg into it before wrapping it up and placing it aside. She wipes the bottom of her lip neatly and then looks over at Charlie sheepishly. ]

Thanks.

[ A beat. ]

Sorry.

[alittlesweptup]

[Charlie waves her off, casual enough; plenty more napkins to be had if he could be bothered to go fetch one.] Don't bother yourself over it.

So: avoid the eggs then, shall I?

cafeteria

[skennen]

[Connor comes skulking around the cafeteria after the last of the violent, disease-ridden beings have been taken care of. Even after skimming the window machine's messages regarding the threat the Transports just faced, he can't say he fully understands what those "zombies" were. But then very little around here makes sense these days and he strongly suspects this is another case where he's better off not seeking more thorough explanations. The less he thinks about everything, the less likely he is to get tripped up on the absurdity that is this entire moon fort situation.

Keeping his hood up, he goes about picking through the scraps they have left, intending to take only what he needs until he can get set up for a supply run mission.

He notices the stranger bowed over at one of the tables, working on something or another, but he decides not to approach him. It's probably none of his business what the man is up to.

And so, with a few questionable foodstuffs gathered, Connor starts to take his leave.

That's when he notices a familiar figure stepping out of the cafeteria exit. The dark hair, the style of dress... and almost certainly the man had a mustache...

Dropping his supplies off to the side, he breaks into a sprint to cross the cafeteria. He vaults effortlessly over the one table in his way... and completely misjudges the leap, effectively throwing himself straight at the guy bent over there.]

[alittlesweptup]

[If there was a short list of things Charlie expected from his day, being slammed into by some bear-sized bastard trying to jump over the bloody table isn't on it. And yet here he is with a tray of congealing food flipped up into his chest and lap. The solid weight that immediately follows is enough to knock him backwards, tablet arcing magnificently in some direction he can't actually track as he's bowled off his seat.

Which is saying something; usually Charlie doesn't have to worry about being knocked over by much of anyone.]

[skennen]

[That bear-sized bastard doesn't even have the courtesy to stop after crashing into him and landing half on top of him.

Unfazed by the collision, Connor scrambles right back up onto his feet and resumes his desperate run for the door. He finally skids to a stop there, looking around the door frame to sight his target.

... Who doesn't have a mustache.

And actually appears to be a woman.

Connor leans back into the cafeteria with a sigh. It takes him a moment longer to glance back the way he came.

Oh. Right. The man at the table. Or the man on the floor now. Connor makes a sheepish return to his side, bending to retrieve the tablet that briefly got to experience flight on his way back.]

Are you all right?

[alittlesweptup]

[By the time Connor makes his way back, Charlie's already well on his way to recapturing his bearings if not his dignity. Christ, he's going to have a bruise there for a goddamn week and--

He's not actually on his feet yet, but that doesn't stop him from rounding on Connor the moment it becomes an option.] What the hell's your problem? You shouldn't be leaping about like a bloody madman, you wanker!

[Charlie Cutter: good for every single britishism ever, sorry Connor.]

[skennen]

[Connor winces visibly under his hood. The accent doesn't quite match any of those he knows from his time, but it's still recognizably British.

His luck.

The Very British man is obviously a little irate, but Connor offers his free hand, anyway - just in case he cares to angrily accept help up.]

Sorry. I thought I saw... something, but that is no excuse for my behavior. Are you hurt?

[alittlesweptup]

[Charlie's not shy about smacking away Connor's hand. Petty? Absolutely. Growling as he clambers to his feet:] I'm fine.

[Hell, his pride's only slightly bruised.

He takes a moment or two to dust himself off, mouth and brow set, before he shoots a look around for where the tablet's gone and-- ah. Right in the the bear man's hand. Charlie holds his hand out for it expectantly.]