nysalogs | love keeps her in the air

Who: River Tam (

soulmakingsound) & Open To All
What: Starting a new life
When: Anytime during September
Where: In and around Olympia
Warning(s): Possible trigger warnings for past psychological abuse

[i. The Simwe Institute: The Library in Evras's Research Centre]

Now that they're more settled and have found a house, River has decided that she should contribute to the house funds. Though housing is free for a month, there is still food and clothing to consider, and rent past the first month. So after a bit of hunting around and dozens and dozens of questions asked, she's managed to find herself a position as a Cataloguer.

Which is all well and good, but also a bit distracting, because she's found several books that interest her. These are stacked next to her at the reference desk. She'll answer your question in a moment, let her finish this page.

[ii. The Housing District: Possibly Your House]

It seems as though she's talked to so many people, now, that live in Olympia. But talking over the network and meeting face to face are very different things. So River, thinking logically, figures that if she systematically knocks on doors of the houses nearby, she will surely find someone she's spoken to.

Or maybe someone entirely new.

[iii. The Market]

She hasn't seen a marketplace like this. Not since Osiris, where resources were more plentiful. Most of the planets she's visited had backwater little towns with tiny tourist shops attempting to sell homemade goods. But this? This is fantastic. Almost overwhelming.

She wanders from booth to booth, touching fabrics, dipping her fingers in bags of grain or seed just to enjoy the sensation of it. She may not buy anything, but she can still appreciate.

[iv. Wildcard]
If you have an idea, hmu on my ooc inbox or on plurk at

wherethefigslie

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Rumlow found means to get by, doing odd jobs here and there. Enough that he fed himself and he could afford new clothing now and again, but no more than that. He didn't actually live anywhere, just made his way around and found particular spots that wouldn't involve him being shivved in the dead of night. It was a reach back of his roots more or less.

However, he was inventive when it came to self care and personal hygiene. He knew enough of certain areas of town to be able to sneak in for a shower, a shave and general upkeep. He never took anything, but he made full use of the facilities for a spare hour or two when people were at the market or working somewhere.

When the knocking started, he ignored it. Not his house, not his problem. Instead, he gathered his pack of belongings and simply went out the window, quietly replacing it close and then heading out to the street to spy the girl - oh her - and snorted.

"No one's home. Move on."

There's a level of familiarity in the greeting, in the snort and the look that's cast her way. Since she's seen her other friends, communicated to them through video or voice, or met them in person, that leaves one person this could possibly be.

"Are you spangling someone's stars?"

Guessed him in one go, huh? He supposed that his approach was far more crude than anyone else's, but come on, there were plenty of assholes in this place. He couldn't be the only one stealing his way into people's houses and using their stuff.

"I'm wearing pants, aren't I? If I wan't I'd definitely be spangling something."

Likely not the only one squatting, but the only one she's spoken to who had used text rather than video. A decently educated guess, if nothing else.

"Then it is a euphemism. Delightful. I would ask why you're vacating via windows, but I think that is your secret to keep.

Should I look away, pretend I saw nothing?"

"You can do whatever you want because I don't give a shit. I was sneaking into places having a shower."

As if that should be obvious the way that his hair was styled back but still damp from water. He wasn't going to stop her from yelling about it, and he would be long gone before anyone could make something of it.

"What are you doing knocking on random doors? You realize that's dangerous, right?"

"Maybe I'm dangerous." It doesn't really matter to her. Perhaps if he were breaking in to steal, she'd be more bothered. Though she did travel with thieves for so long, she likely shouldn't judge.

But she can't really begrudge anyone cleanliness.

"I was looking for a friend. Or meeting new neighbours, depending on who answers the door." Everyone she knows seems to know Bucky. Or at least a decent percentage of them, so it's worth it to ask -- "Do you know a Bucky?"

"Maybe you are. Still shouldn't be doing that sort of shit alone," he pointed out easily. He worked with his share of women that could break most assailants in half, but all the same, it was better to work in pairs.

She was as odd now as she had been on the network. He really did wonder if she was touched in the head. Still, he was wary enough of her to keep his guard up, feeling cautious curiosity of her.

"The samurai rabbit? Or is that a person?" Of course, he knew Bucky.

Wait, no. The question pulls her up short, because the implausibility of a samurai rabbit is bothersome. She makes a face, "Rabbits have no opposable thumbs. The idea of them completing the training required to be a samurai is ridiculous.

A person."

Her brain works back around to the first part (though illogical rabbits are still troubling) and she tilts her head a little. "You're thinking tactically. Cover more ground? More sets of eyes is safer."

"Not in animation," he said simply, amused by her being so distracted by the notion. "It's up there with dancing octopus, talking foxes. If someone can think of it, they can make it happen."

He nodded his head and readjusted his pack now that he wasn't in such a hurry to ease away. "I know a Bucky. Describe this person's appearance?"

He snorted softly. "Strength in numbers. Less chance of being sexually assaulted in a stranger's house if someone is watching your back."

"Oh, a cartoon. You should have prefaced with that." She thinks of dancing octopuses, of colorful commercials, and wraps her arms tight around herself, blinking away the memory. As though even the memory of the encoding might trigger something.

Best to be safe.

"I'll be sure to inform you of my movements in the future, then. Just to be safe.

He's a little taller than you. Brown hair, almost to his shoulders. Broadly built. Prosthetic arm."

"Why? What does it matter if it's cartoon or not?" After all, there was some weird shit in this place, so he figured that in some world, at some time, it could be possible. They might even see it sometime.

Of course, her reaction to his comments about other talking animals made him consider her for a long moment. "What's up with you? You look frightened."

Ah yeah, so Barnes managed to get around. Why didn't that surprise him? "I know that one. Nice guy, punches like he can take your head off."

"The logistics..." Her brow furrows and she frowns, trailing off, twisting a strand off hair around her finger.

She likes her friend. And while she is absolutely certain he can defend himself, she doesn't like the idea of trying to hurt someone she considers a friend. Or anyone at all.

She shakes her head in answer to his question, "Even if the trigger is very far away, one assumes the weapon could still be detonated. Even if you dismantle it, clean it out, pull all the pieces apart there's still a chance. Always a chance.

A weapon doesn't stop being one just because it doesn't want to be."

"Genetic mutations and splicing will get to the point where a samurai rabbit is possible," he said simply, waving away her complaint. Just because she couldn't imagine it didn't mean that others weren't thinking of the possibilities. Someone, somewhere would think it was useful or funny.

Her words stopped him from making flippant comments. There was something there, something under the surface and he wondered if some of her oddities were because of some kind of... weaponization. It would make sense given what he knew of brainwashing. Who might suspect a twig of a girl?

He eyed her for a silence minute. "If you pull it apart, you can find the trigger in the weapon and remove it. However, everything and everyone has the potential to be a weapon."

"If you pull it apart you can't always put it back together the right way again. Even with the bad parts gone."

She takes a deep breath and closes her eyes. Wishes her brother were here, or Inara. Someone to hold her and remind her she's a whole real girl. "Sometimes you throw away some of the good by accident."

Rumlow watched her for another minute, considering her. "If you're doing it right, you'll put it back together correctly. Besides, removing the bad doesn't mean you aren't removing something the weapon has become in the first place."

He reached out awkwardly and carefully, aware that she was likely calling herself a weapon and could defend herself. All the same, he tried to pat her shoulder. "The people that made the weapon probably threw out the good to begin with. It's up to the weapon to take it back."

love keeps her in the air

ii Not his house

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