[She doesn't intend that to come off sarcastic, really. Maketh just doesn't have the energy to type anything out properly right now. She also doesn't say whether or not she's okay, because that's not relevant.]
[When he gets a second less-than-friendly response, he's actually a little less deterred. Their first conversation had been in kind of a terrible situation, so it's not a huge surprise she might act differently now, especially if she might have a similar personality to Emily. Which he's thinking might be the case here.
But it's hard to gauge tone through text, so he has to be a little more direct than he usually is.]
It's totally cool if you're pissed off at me or something, but I can't tell for sure so you're going to have to actually say so if you are.
[And he hasn't forgotten about his first question, but he'll wait to ask it again for the moment.]
[Not just in general this time, but specifically now. Who knows if something went wrong with the resurrection, or if she's been injured or something, or maybe simply drunk or possibly just really upset. Whatever it is--if anything--he wants to make sure it isn't something serious.]
[This conversation should not be happening at all. If Maketh were any closer to sober, she thinks she'd crying. Which is horrible and wrong, she's better than this]
[He's heard those kinds of comments before and they're always worrying, but even more so right now considering the last conversation he had with Maketh.]
[Maketh rewrites this about six times before finally just giving up and going for it. This is how you prevent people from talking about their feelings, right?]
[That's... Not the response he's expecting, and he has to consider for a minute how to answer.]
Yeah.
[He's drank legally before since he's old enough to do so in Canada, though he's a few years off in the United States. Still, he's going to guess the scary monster-ridden cave doesn't have a drinking age anyway, so it's fair to say yes.]
[Welcome to the Imperial version of dealing with trauma: get shitfaced and pretend it never happened. Or get the other person so drunk they forget they asked.
Maketh is also currently hungover as hell. So for her this counts as a good idea.]
[Huh. Not an entirely unfamiliar offer and so he's not bothered by the slightly harsh way of putting it, but he really isn't sure how to respond.
On one hand, he does drink, and after everything that happened it's really tempting. On the other hand, even though he does drink he doesn't actually get drunk anymore, not after being too inebriated to help when the twins went missing. Knowing what happened to them helps alleviate some guilt in that--even if he'd been able to go after them he would've just been a third casualty that night--but there's still the fear that something like that might happen in the future and he'll be useless.
Not to mention that, despite how much he'd love to forget about everything for awhile, he knows if he starts drinking as a way to cope he won't stop.
But that doesn't mean he's going to refuse. Whiskey is good for things besides drinking and it's fine if he has a little anyway, but more importantly he'll be able to get a better read on Maketh and he doesn't want to refuse an offer of reaching out.]
[Maketh spent a good amount of time getting wasted with Amos the previous night, but he's currently out doing something. Therefore she doesn't feel bad inviting a civilian over because it's not bothering anyone.]
Spire 1. Apartment 101.
[It doesn't occur to Maketh that usually asking someone over to your place for drinks is flirting. She's really not. This is just what Imperials do. Drink like mad and pretend shit never happened.]
Okay, cool. I'll be over there soon then, if that's cool?
[He has to leave a note so his housemates don't worry, and it'll just take him a little while to get there once he does leave between his bad knee and the injuries he ended up with during the event.]
[After getting everything in order to make sure his friends won't be concerned about him missing and gathering up a bit of the definitely human-meat-free food they'd collected to bring with him--drinking on an empty stomach isn't the best idea--Chris heads out toward the Spire.
It's nice to be able to go out with only the normal fear of monsters, as opposed to the very immediate and imminent threat of potentially running into a wendigo. Still, he's even more cautious than usual, listening carefully for anything that might be approaching and half-expecting to hear the all too familiar sound of a wendigo scream.
But nothing happens, and after a little while he makes it to the Spire. He's never visited one of these things before, glancing around curiously before finding apartment 101 and knocking on the door.]
[Under normal circumstances - or at least back on Lothal - Maketh would never have invited anyone over to her home for drinking. That was strictly a social engagement, best done in public. Sadly there's no bar here, and she doesn't feel like wandering around looking for a suitable replacement.
Should she clean up, or something? Maketh wonders about that.
She puts the dirty dishes in the sink, anyway.
When she answers the door, she's not in uniform. Just her undershirt and a pair of loose pants, about as close to relaxed as Maketh ever gets.
Her hair is down, too. It's longer than people expect.
She's not barefoot, though. That would be too much.]
Hello.
[She eyes Chris up and down. He's taller than her, but that's not hard.] Come in.
[Since the last time he saw her she was turning into a monster, he's not super surprised by the change in her usual appearance mostly since he doesn't have anything to compare it to. She is dressed casually enough though that he actually realizes that he's agreed to show up to the apartment of some woman he barely knows for a drink, and what that usually means, but he's pretty sure she doesn't mean anything by it and he's not interested, so he'll just ignore that awkwardness for now.
Chris is definitely tall, wearing jeans and a few layers of assorted shirts and jackets that hide most of the thankfully not serious injuries he got from a run-in with a partially transformed wendigo. He looks tired but friendly, not exactly the intimidating type, and he offers Maketh a small smile at her greeting.]
[Maketh gives him a nod. She doesn't shake hands. It's hitting her now that this isn't quite what she planned - Chris isn't an Imperial, not even a cadet, he doesn't think like them. This could go wrong.
But then again, she could just get really drunk and forget it ever happened. That's fairly universal, right?
She steps back, hands clasped behind her back, and moves to the table. She's got two bottles, one half empty, and an assortment of shot glasses. Whiskey like she promised. It's strong enough to make most people forget about talking.]
Are you...well?
[It seems like the thing to ask. Except, of course, that he might parrot it back to her. Maketh thins her mouth, rephrasing.] No trouble getting over here?
[He steps into the apartment after her, glancing around the place as he follows her over to the table; he doesn't quite have a limp, but definitely favors his right leg.]
Nah, all seems mostly quiet once again in the deadly monster cave.
[It's said mostly flatly, with just the slightest bit of humor at how ridiculous it is that this is the situation they're in. He does consider asking her how she's doing in return, but decides not to push too much yet.]
[The apartment doesn't have much in the way of personal touches - and the few oddities that are hanging around don't belong to Maketh. She keeps her sword and a few changes of clothes - variations on her new uniform - in her own room, door firmly closed.
Maketh takes a seat, and begins arranging the glasses in a straight line. Things ought to be ordered.] I doubt it will last. You found someone to look at your leg?
[She noticed. She assumes he had it fixed.]
Some of the private homes. Others in the stores. Most were hidden.
[She hasn't had much else to do but explore and look for supplies, and hints as to what happened here before their arrival. Mostly, she's been looking for books. Information. Spare paper. Maketh hasn't found much of that.]
[He takes a seat at the table across from her, setting the small bag he's brought with him on the table as well, about to start digging through it when she asks him a question.]
No, I screwed it up before I got here and just keep making it worse, so...
[No real point in wasting time and supplies and all of that. Even though he knows some people here have healing powers and he's considered asking for a favor, he's pretty sure he'd manage to injure himself five minutes after getting it healed anyway.]
We haven't been looking much in the abandoned homes, just the stores.
[So that's an idea. But they've generally been playing it safe, and the stores are more frequently visited and so less likely to be newly homes to monsters.
He pulls out a few little containers of one of the strictly vegetarian meals Sam had showed them how to make, offering one toward Maketh.]
Not sure if you, you know. Had much food to go with your alcohol.
[And for some time after he and his friends arrived in this place even doing something as simple as making food had been a daunting task, after what they'd gone through at home. He imagines turning into a monster and dying probably puts Maketh in a similar position, and he isn't sure if she has anyone looking out for her the way his friends had all looked out for each other.]
[Maketh gives him a flat look, unimpressed.] Get it fixed.
[It's not like she did the exact same thing when she first arrived. Oh wait.
That's different, though. Maketh had been fairly certain her injuries were beyond whatever meager medical attention this place could have provided. She'd been proven wrong.
She'd also been in shock at the time, so she had an excuse. Sort of.]
It's more dangerous, but our supplies are limited.
[Therefore risks must be taken. If she had troopers here, Maketh would order them to do it, but she doesn't and they'd probably shoot her on sight anyway.
Maketh pauses, the glasses and bottles in a nice geometric pattern. Acceptable. She probably ate something last night, but she can't quite remember.] Thank you. That is...thoughtful.
[He's not actually promising to agree; it's more said as a light, slightly humorous response to the order than anything else. But maybe he'll at least talk to the guy who runs the clinic, once the aftermath of the wendigo event dies down a bit.
He nods at the comment about the supplies, because it's definitely true; he wonders which god is responsible for stocking the stores, because it might actually matter. Rage and Fear obviously don't know what they're doing--assuming they were genuinely trying to help Hope out with the food thing--and Hope seems to be pretty drained, so who knows how steady their supplies might end up being in the future.]
Yeah. Probably worth the risk, I guess, especially if there's some better stuff. There's five of us at my place, too.
[So they need a lot of supplies, pretty often. He offers a small smile at the thanks.]
No problem. Drinking isn't much fun if you just get sick right after anyway.
[The tone gets him a side-eye. Maketh is used to being obeyed, her orders followed with all due haste. But he's not a soldier and certainly not one of her troopers, so she probably shouldn't bully him into politeness. At least not right now. She's too tired to do her drill sergeant voice anyway.] Yes. And likely to be more, in time.
[There are advantages to more people, but only if they can be properly fed. Hunger makes everyone unpredictable and hostile.
Maketh peers at him curiously.] There are people from your world here, aren't there?
[She's going to ignore his comment about getting sick and whatever implication might be hiding there.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
mismanagement) wrote2016-01-25 02:02 pm
[text]
[She doesn't intend that to come off sarcastic, really. Maketh just doesn't have the energy to type anything out properly right now. She also doesn't say whether or not she's okay, because that's not relevant.]
[text]
But it's hard to gauge tone through text, so he has to be a little more direct than he usually is.]
It's totally cool if you're pissed off at me or something, but I can't tell for sure so you're going to have to actually say so if you are.
[And he hasn't forgotten about his first question, but he'll wait to ask it again for the moment.]
[text]
Fuck. She's worried the civilian].
do you need something
[There, that's professional.]
[text]
[Not just in general this time, but specifically now. Who knows if something went wrong with the resurrection, or if she's been injured or something, or maybe simply drunk or possibly just really upset. Whatever it is--if anything--he wants to make sure it isn't something serious.]
[text]
[This conversation should not be happening at all. If Maketh were any closer to sober, she thinks she'd crying. Which is horrible and wrong, she's better than this]
[text]
[He's heard those kinds of comments before and they're always worrying, but even more so right now considering the last conversation he had with Maketh.]
[text]
contact me if you need something
[She wants to kick him off, but she can't - this isn't a private com. So.]
[text]
Yeah. You do the same, okay?
[text]
are you old enough to drink
[Probably? She can't really tell with civilians]
[text]
Yeah.
[He's drank legally before since he's old enough to do so in Canada, though he's a few years off in the United States. Still, he's going to guess the scary monster-ridden cave doesn't have a drinking age anyway, so it's fair to say yes.]
[text]
[Welcome to the Imperial version of dealing with trauma: get shitfaced and pretend it never happened. Or get the other person so drunk they forget they asked.
Maketh is also currently hungover as hell. So for her this counts as a good idea.]
[text]
On one hand, he does drink, and after everything that happened it's really tempting. On the other hand, even though he does drink he doesn't actually get drunk anymore, not after being too inebriated to help when the twins went missing. Knowing what happened to them helps alleviate some guilt in that--even if he'd been able to go after them he would've just been a third casualty that night--but there's still the fear that something like that might happen in the future and he'll be useless.
Not to mention that, despite how much he'd love to forget about everything for awhile, he knows if he starts drinking as a way to cope he won't stop.
But that doesn't mean he's going to refuse. Whiskey is good for things besides drinking and it's fine if he has a little anyway, but more importantly he'll be able to get a better read on Maketh and he doesn't want to refuse an offer of reaching out.]
Deal. Where should I meet you?
[text]
Spire 1. Apartment 101.
[It doesn't occur to Maketh that usually asking someone over to your place for drinks is flirting. She's really not. This is just what Imperials do. Drink like mad and pretend shit never happened.]
[text]
[He has to leave a note so his housemates don't worry, and it'll just take him a little while to get there once he does leave between his bad knee and the injuries he ended up with during the event.]
[text]
[Action]
It's nice to be able to go out with only the normal fear of monsters, as opposed to the very immediate and imminent threat of potentially running into a wendigo. Still, he's even more cautious than usual, listening carefully for anything that might be approaching and half-expecting to hear the all too familiar sound of a wendigo scream.
But nothing happens, and after a little while he makes it to the Spire. He's never visited one of these things before, glancing around curiously before finding apartment 101 and knocking on the door.]
[Action]
Should she clean up, or something? Maketh wonders about that.
She puts the dirty dishes in the sink, anyway.
When she answers the door, she's not in uniform. Just her undershirt and a pair of loose pants, about as close to relaxed as Maketh ever gets.
Her hair is down, too. It's longer than people expect.
She's not barefoot, though. That would be too much.]
Hello.
[She eyes Chris up and down. He's taller than her, but that's not hard.] Come in.
[Action]
Chris is definitely tall, wearing jeans and a few layers of assorted shirts and jackets that hide most of the thankfully not serious injuries he got from a run-in with a partially transformed wendigo. He looks tired but friendly, not exactly the intimidating type, and he offers Maketh a small smile at her greeting.]
Hey. Nice to meet you in person.
[Action]
But then again, she could just get really drunk and forget it ever happened. That's fairly universal, right?
She steps back, hands clasped behind her back, and moves to the table. She's got two bottles, one half empty, and an assortment of shot glasses. Whiskey like she promised. It's strong enough to make most people forget about talking.]
Are you...well?
[It seems like the thing to ask. Except, of course, that he might parrot it back to her. Maketh thins her mouth, rephrasing.] No trouble getting over here?
[Action]
Nah, all seems mostly quiet once again in the deadly monster cave.
[It's said mostly flatly, with just the slightest bit of humor at how ridiculous it is that this is the situation they're in. He does consider asking her how she's doing in return, but decides not to push too much yet.]
Where'd you find whiskey around here anyway?
[Action]
Maketh takes a seat, and begins arranging the glasses in a straight line. Things ought to be ordered.] I doubt it will last. You found someone to look at your leg?
[She noticed. She assumes he had it fixed.]
Some of the private homes. Others in the stores. Most were hidden.
[She hasn't had much else to do but explore and look for supplies, and hints as to what happened here before their arrival. Mostly, she's been looking for books. Information. Spare paper. Maketh hasn't found much of that.]
[Action]
No, I screwed it up before I got here and just keep making it worse, so...
[No real point in wasting time and supplies and all of that. Even though he knows some people here have healing powers and he's considered asking for a favor, he's pretty sure he'd manage to injure himself five minutes after getting it healed anyway.]
We haven't been looking much in the abandoned homes, just the stores.
[So that's an idea. But they've generally been playing it safe, and the stores are more frequently visited and so less likely to be newly homes to monsters.
He pulls out a few little containers of one of the strictly vegetarian meals Sam had showed them how to make, offering one toward Maketh.]
Not sure if you, you know. Had much food to go with your alcohol.
[And for some time after he and his friends arrived in this place even doing something as simple as making food had been a daunting task, after what they'd gone through at home. He imagines turning into a monster and dying probably puts Maketh in a similar position, and he isn't sure if she has anyone looking out for her the way his friends had all looked out for each other.]
[Action]
[It's not like she did the exact same thing when she first arrived. Oh wait.
That's different, though. Maketh had been fairly certain her injuries were beyond whatever meager medical attention this place could have provided. She'd been proven wrong.
She'd also been in shock at the time, so she had an excuse. Sort of.]
It's more dangerous, but our supplies are limited.
[Therefore risks must be taken. If she had troopers here, Maketh would order them to do it, but she doesn't and they'd probably shoot her on sight anyway.
Maketh pauses, the glasses and bottles in a nice geometric pattern. Acceptable. She probably ate something last night, but she can't quite remember.] Thank you. That is...thoughtful.
[Action]
[He's not actually promising to agree; it's more said as a light, slightly humorous response to the order than anything else. But maybe he'll at least talk to the guy who runs the clinic, once the aftermath of the wendigo event dies down a bit.
He nods at the comment about the supplies, because it's definitely true; he wonders which god is responsible for stocking the stores, because it might actually matter. Rage and Fear obviously don't know what they're doing--assuming they were genuinely trying to help Hope out with the food thing--and Hope seems to be pretty drained, so who knows how steady their supplies might end up being in the future.]
Yeah. Probably worth the risk, I guess, especially if there's some better stuff. There's five of us at my place, too.
[So they need a lot of supplies, pretty often. He offers a small smile at the thanks.]
No problem. Drinking isn't much fun if you just get sick right after anyway.
[Action]
[There are advantages to more people, but only if they can be properly fed. Hunger makes everyone unpredictable and hostile.
Maketh peers at him curiously.] There are people from your world here, aren't there?
[She's going to ignore his comment about getting sick and whatever implication might be hiding there.]
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