[ Sam stills in the doorway when he sees her, pulling in a slow breath and exhaling to try to let go of the faint unsettled feeling he gets at that smile. The last thing he needs is for it to spread to his broodmate or the others in the Nest he's close with. ]
[There's no wave of her hand, no twitch of her finger, but something shifts - literally. A chair matching her own builds itself out of the Station's floor.]
Make yourself comfortable. We'd like to speak with you.
[ That's not any less unsettling - but admittedly, it's also pretty damn handy, and Sam's curious. That the Station can manipulate itself like that, that it does as she wants...
He suspects it's got something to do with what he talked to her about last time they spoke, and people's connection to the Station, but now's not the time to ask more. He'd rather know what she wants to talk about this time, so he settles himself in the newly formed chair. ]
You have a certain rapport with many of the young hosts. We believe you care for some of them a great deal and that they hear you when you speak.
[They are so very present, aren't they? All of them in the Station like radio frequencies she might tune to and away from. She tips her head, the long sheet of her silvering hair falling forward over her shoulder.]
We believe it's time for someone to do what must be done and focus their efforts. Unfortunately, we're unable to do so. Many of them don't trust us for reasons that are obvious-- [Namely habits like showing up announced in bedrooms in the middle of the night.] --and we have no ability to travel on extended missions anyway. So someone must be trusted to guide them while away.
[She lifts her chin. Her eyes are too reflective in the dimmed light of the artificial evening.]
[ He cares for the vast majority of the Hosts here, in some form or another, but she's right that there's a not insignificant number that he's, well. More or less completely wrapped up in, if he's honest, but he appreciates that she called it what he'd prefer to. He cares for them.
And then she keeps going, and there's a certain sense of deja vu. He and Ilde had a conversation very much like this one, pointing out his connection with some of the Nest. Only she'd called it sway and not rapport, and her implication had set his hackles up.
What a difference a word makes.
It's not that he's not suspicious here, too, because he is. He doesn't quite trust her, though he's not as paranoid of her motivations as he'd been when he first got here. Sam's pretty sure that his idea of guiding and focusing their efforts might be a little different than hers - and he already is, as much as he wants to. Getting people to train as a team with him, trying to teach them better coping skills, maybe having a couple of workshops or support groups, that's as much as he's got.
And he'd tell her so, if not for the way she phrased her last question. Will you keep them safe, and he's only got one response for that. ]
Keeping people safe's been who I am for a long time, hasn't changed yet. I'll do what I need to, to keep them safe as best I can.
[No more, no less. She seems to take him at his word without so much as batting an eyelash.]
We have a feeling things may change very quickly, and we would prefer... [Here she does hesitate. It's a moment's pause, no more, but something shifts in the air between them. The weight doesn't change (her presence here is still somehow strangely oppressive), but its distribution changes. Like a game tile being turned from vertical to horizontal on some invisible game board.] For everyone to come back safely. We know there are individuals in this group who could jeopardize that if left to their own devices.
[ Well that's not ominous at all, thanks Cathaway.
He leaves an impression across the connection at that last bit, that if she's asking him to keep them safe and has specific people in mind that could jeopardize that, she might as well name them. But his attention is primarily on her shift in focus, and on what she's seeing. Or maybe feeling is more accurate here. ]
Like the way the last two missions changed pretty damn quick, or are we talking about something else?
[As to the individual, she can say nothing. She has her suspicions - Parker, Damon, Lexa, a hundred other unnamed variables determined to either sew chaos or put a stop to this thing they don't yet know the pieces of -, but they are negligible. There's no point in naming them when paths might begin to radically diverge on the ground. Who knows who might be a friend where once there was a liability? And vice versa.]
No one in this young batch has ever faced our Enemy. The danger is more real in this than it was on the Waypoint or in Concordia. We can't afford to have our position compromised if it would mean they would follow you back to this place. Do you understand?
[ Fair enough, really, Sam would agree to that. There are a few in the Nest that he has a complicated enough relationship with that even he's not quite sure where they stand. Less than there used to be, granted, but he's not looking to go there now. Not with the way this conversation has turned.
Yeah. Yeah, he understands. Or at least he knows exactly what that would mean back home - if things go to shit, no one's gonna be coming to get their asses out of hot water. There's no extraction plan here, and hell, doesn't that sound familiar? Honestly, Sam can't say he's surprised. ]
The Station's position won't be compromised. If we blow our cover, we're on our own.
[She's quiet for a moment. When she speaks, her voice is soft and tinged with resignation.] We're glad you perceive the risk.
[Perhaps there's something more to be said. Some secret phrase she might speak to shift the probability of failure radically in their favor. Surely there must be an arrangement of words that might carry her presence to this world where they're going, so that she might somehow do more than simply watch and wait.
Instead she rises with a series of chimes from the strands of fine gold chains and their assortments of charms strung through the layers of her dress and wound the length of her arms. The chair Cathaway had occupied collapses back into the floor as if it had never been there at all.]
If you can think of anything we can give you for your trip, please let us know.
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sizeofyourbaggage) wrote2016-05-22 03:26 pm
screams quietly
Cathaway. What can I do for you?
: )
Make yourself comfortable. We'd like to speak with you.
no subject
He suspects it's got something to do with what he talked to her about last time they spoke, and people's connection to the Station, but now's not the time to ask more. He'd rather know what she wants to talk about this time, so he settles himself in the newly formed chair. ]
Shoot.
no subject
You have a certain rapport with many of the young hosts. We believe you care for some of them a great deal and that they hear you when you speak.
[They are so very present, aren't they? All of them in the Station like radio frequencies she might tune to and away from. She tips her head, the long sheet of her silvering hair falling forward over her shoulder.]
We believe it's time for someone to do what must be done and focus their efforts. Unfortunately, we're unable to do so. Many of them don't trust us for reasons that are obvious-- [Namely habits like showing up announced in bedrooms in the middle of the night.] --and we have no ability to travel on extended missions anyway. So someone must be trusted to guide them while away.
[She lifts her chin. Her eyes are too reflective in the dimmed light of the artificial evening.]
Would you say you can keep some of them safe?
no subject
And then she keeps going, and there's a certain sense of deja vu. He and Ilde had a conversation very much like this one, pointing out his connection with some of the Nest. Only she'd called it sway and not rapport, and her implication had set his hackles up.
What a difference a word makes.
It's not that he's not suspicious here, too, because he is. He doesn't quite trust her, though he's not as paranoid of her motivations as he'd been when he first got here. Sam's pretty sure that his idea of guiding and focusing their efforts might be a little different than hers - and he already is, as much as he wants to. Getting people to train as a team with him, trying to teach them better coping skills, maybe having a couple of workshops or support groups, that's as much as he's got.
And he'd tell her so, if not for the way she phrased her last question. Will you keep them safe, and he's only got one response for that. ]
Keeping people safe's been who I am for a long time, hasn't changed yet. I'll do what I need to, to keep them safe as best I can.
no subject
[No more, no less. She seems to take him at his word without so much as batting an eyelash.]
We have a feeling things may change very quickly, and we would prefer... [Here she does hesitate. It's a moment's pause, no more, but something shifts in the air between them. The weight doesn't change (her presence here is still somehow strangely oppressive), but its distribution changes. Like a game tile being turned from vertical to horizontal on some invisible game board.] For everyone to come back safely. We know there are individuals in this group who could jeopardize that if left to their own devices.
no subject
He leaves an impression across the connection at that last bit, that if she's asking him to keep them safe and has specific people in mind that could jeopardize that, she might as well name them. But his attention is primarily on her shift in focus, and on what she's seeing. Or maybe feeling is more accurate here. ]
Like the way the last two missions changed pretty damn quick, or are we talking about something else?
no subject
[As to the individual, she can say nothing. She has her suspicions - Parker, Damon, Lexa, a hundred other unnamed variables determined to either sew chaos or put a stop to this thing they don't yet know the pieces of -, but they are negligible. There's no point in naming them when paths might begin to radically diverge on the ground. Who knows who might be a friend where once there was a liability? And vice versa.]
No one in this young batch has ever faced our Enemy. The danger is more real in this than it was on the Waypoint or in Concordia. We can't afford to have our position compromised if it would mean they would follow you back to this place. Do you understand?
[Her attention is so terribly fixed.]
no subject
Yeah. Yeah, he understands. Or at least he knows exactly what that would mean back home - if things go to shit, no one's gonna be coming to get their asses out of hot water. There's no extraction plan here, and hell, doesn't that sound familiar? Honestly, Sam can't say he's surprised. ]
The Station's position won't be compromised. If we blow our cover, we're on our own.
no subject
[Perhaps there's something more to be said. Some secret phrase she might speak to shift the probability of failure radically in their favor. Surely there must be an arrangement of words that might carry her presence to this world where they're going, so that she might somehow do more than simply watch and wait.
Instead she rises with a series of chimes from the strands of fine gold chains and their assortments of charms strung through the layers of her dress and wound the length of her arms. The chair Cathaway had occupied collapses back into the floor as if it had never been there at all.]
If you can think of anything we can give you for your trip, please let us know.