𝐻𝒜𝒫𝒫𝒴 𝐻𝐸𝒜𝑅𝒯𝒮 𝒮𝒯𝒜𝐹𝐹 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
happyheartsstaff) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
angryhearts2020-08-11 11:18 pm
happyheartsstaff) wrote in angryhearts2020-08-11 11:18 pm
Entry tags:
you want to hear it? well —
ONLY, MY SECRET'S MINE, AND I WON'T TELL
The garden may no longer be available upon return to the hotel, but there is still a bustle of energy. How fortunate all the Oysters are, to reside in such a renowned place! It's a great honor for those in Wonderland to be granted opportunity to teach their skills or ply their trade here, and the Queen permits only the best. Hotel staff themselves seem to delight in the presence of the traveling merchants. Many trade teas or favors for enchanted items, and will eagerly discuss their purchases. "Oh, it happens regularly enough," they will say if asked, "but you never know if the merchant you liked or the item you eyed will be back next time!"
The talk lingers after the guest instructors and merchants have departed, but it isn't the only thing left behind. Glimmers of green may catch your eye, tucked away in hidden places that seem almost impossible to reach without drawing attention to yourself. Those who manage it will find a scrap of heavy paper with a drawing of a stylized caterpillar, a series of numbers, and the words call a friend.
Are you curious enough to input the numbers into your Empathy? It will ring, if you do, until an answering machine picks up and asks a single question — How doth the little crocodile improve his shining tail? Do you dare leave a message? What will it be? Whatever you decide, the call will disconnect after a few minutes. It seems the only thing you can do now is wait for a call back.
But of course, the hotel is not in the habit of allowing such a thing as idle waiting. Her Royal Highness has noticed that some of her beloved Oysters seem quite reluctant to partake of the many splendors that the hotel provides, and she will be offering a special treat — indulgence.
QUEEN'S GAMES
8/12 - 8/22
What's more fun to indulge in than a little healthy competition? It's time for the Queen's Games, a truly dazzling spectacle. Competitors come from all over Wonderland, and this year for the first time ever, Oysters are invited to join! Announcements for the games schedule will be posted all throughout the hotel, along with directions on how to register to join.
The games will be held in either the pool area or the gym, which seems to have expanded to accommodate the number of spectators. Available games include:
Of course, even the games that Oysters are familiar with may not be quite the same. Chess in Wonderland is a team sport, for example, with each member of the team filling a role as a chess piece and a coach as a strategist directing the plays. Attempting to capture one of the other team's pieces includes having to successfully win a fight against them. Gymnastics and diving competitors include growing and shrinking in size to their routines, ice sculptures come to life when they've been completed, artistic swimmers and ice skaters change costumes and swap partners in the blink of an eye.
If they're lucky, Oysters may find one of the competitors willing to show them the ropes. If they're even luckier, or more persistent, there may be a spot or two open on one of the teams that Oysters can slot themselves into. For the most part, team members will be delighted to have Oysters there.
"You all just feel so much," one may say, sounding a little awed.
"Show off those emotions, it'll get us points," another will add.
Although competitors are friendly, with Osyters and with each other, it's clear that most of them are here to win. Rivalries may flare up throughout the month, ex-lovers may be reunited and broken up again, infighting may spark among the teams — all things that can be soothed or exacerbated, for Oysters who may have inclinations towards utilizing such things to increase their chances of winning.
Or to fan the flames of drama for its own sake.
The games will be held in either the pool area or the gym, which seems to have expanded to accommodate the number of spectators. Available games include:
- archery
- chess
- croquet
- artistic swimming
- diving
- gymnastics
- flamingo flying
- ice skating
- ice sculptures
Of course, even the games that Oysters are familiar with may not be quite the same. Chess in Wonderland is a team sport, for example, with each member of the team filling a role as a chess piece and a coach as a strategist directing the plays. Attempting to capture one of the other team's pieces includes having to successfully win a fight against them. Gymnastics and diving competitors include growing and shrinking in size to their routines, ice sculptures come to life when they've been completed, artistic swimmers and ice skaters change costumes and swap partners in the blink of an eye.
If they're lucky, Oysters may find one of the competitors willing to show them the ropes. If they're even luckier, or more persistent, there may be a spot or two open on one of the teams that Oysters can slot themselves into. For the most part, team members will be delighted to have Oysters there.
"You all just feel so much," one may say, sounding a little awed.
"Show off those emotions, it'll get us points," another will add.
Although competitors are friendly, with Osyters and with each other, it's clear that most of them are here to win. Rivalries may flare up throughout the month, ex-lovers may be reunited and broken up again, infighting may spark among the teams — all things that can be soothed or exacerbated, for Oysters who may have inclinations towards utilizing such things to increase their chances of winning.
Or to fan the flames of drama for its own sake.
THE CALL
8/16
Starting in the early morning hours and continuing late into the night, any who left a message will get a call back.
Those who completed the poem will be greeted immediately by a friendly male voice, with an apology for the delay. "Ugh, our lines are backed up like crazy," the caller will say. "Where are you reporting in from?"
Those who somehow identified themselves as an Oyster, as residing in the hotel, from off world, being held by the Queen, or otherwise potentially against the Queen, will have their call returned by a cold female voice, guarded and wary.
"Show me your Oyster mark," the caller will request. "We can't risk giving you anything without proof."
Regardless of which caller contacts them, anyone who cooperates will receive similar information.
The friendly caller will readily provide assurances that the resistance base was not found, despite Mad March and the Order's attempt at reconnaissance in the old kingdom.
"Can't say much more than that over these channels, you know, but worry not! Everyone is safe. We have a follow up from the last mission — sorry about the air conditioning, you know, couldn't be helped — you ready for this? Keycodes. Access keycodes. Didn't get more than a handful, of course, and the intel is vague about what they access. Are we glad to get your call! How about it, you ready to try one out and see what information you can get?"
The guarded caller will allude to the Order not being able to find what they wanted out in the ruins.
"Did you think they took you out there to show you the sights? They're looking for us, obviously. No I'm not going to tell you more than that — just because you're an Oyster doesn't mean we can completely trust you. All right, look. Last time we broke into the hotel, we recovered a few access codes. We had to get out of there before we could find out what they accessed. How about a trade? We give you the code, you call us back and tell us what you find."
Those who completed the poem will be greeted immediately by a friendly male voice, with an apology for the delay. "Ugh, our lines are backed up like crazy," the caller will say. "Where are you reporting in from?"
Those who somehow identified themselves as an Oyster, as residing in the hotel, from off world, being held by the Queen, or otherwise potentially against the Queen, will have their call returned by a cold female voice, guarded and wary.
"Show me your Oyster mark," the caller will request. "We can't risk giving you anything without proof."
Regardless of which caller contacts them, anyone who cooperates will receive similar information.
The friendly caller will readily provide assurances that the resistance base was not found, despite Mad March and the Order's attempt at reconnaissance in the old kingdom.
"Can't say much more than that over these channels, you know, but worry not! Everyone is safe. We have a follow up from the last mission — sorry about the air conditioning, you know, couldn't be helped — you ready for this? Keycodes. Access keycodes. Didn't get more than a handful, of course, and the intel is vague about what they access. Are we glad to get your call! How about it, you ready to try one out and see what information you can get?"
The guarded caller will allude to the Order not being able to find what they wanted out in the ruins.
"Did you think they took you out there to show you the sights? They're looking for us, obviously. No I'm not going to tell you more than that — just because you're an Oyster doesn't mean we can completely trust you. All right, look. Last time we broke into the hotel, we recovered a few access codes. We had to get out of there before we could find out what they accessed. How about a trade? We give you the code, you call us back and tell us what you find."
INDULGENCE
8/13 - 8/23
Throughout the event, there will be a number of activities available alongside the games designed to encourage unwinding. A concert set up in the hotel lobby will kick off the start of the games, at which indulgence teas will be made available for the first time. They will continue to be served readily at all hours of the day. Enhanced spa facilities will be made available as well — dazzling pedicures and manicures with nail polish that can do anything from change colors based on your mood to emit light so bright it can function as a flashlight; makeup that gives you a kiss that will literally stun the recipient; aromatherapy that will cure any kind of hangover; oils that double as aphrodisiacs, for those interested; healing massages that will take away your aches and pains, wiping away any bruises or injuries with no questions asked. A clean slate, ready to indulge again.
Then, of course, there are the less official activities. Whispers will begin to spread about another kind of competition being run after hours, when all good competitors should be sleeping. No one quite knows who's running it — one person heard it was the coach of one of the chess teams, eager to get her players extra practice; another heard it was one of the chess players themselves; still another will say it is an ice skater, a flamingo pilot, a gymnast. After all, it hardly matters, does it, as long as it runs, and there is a fight every night? Oysters are welcomed into this competition as well, where the only rule is not to kill your opponent. Teas of all kinds exchange hands as bets are placed on the fights, and the champion is rumored to receive a truly spectacular prize.
If fighting is not to your speed, fear not. All of the competitors seem to have different ways to unwind after the games are completed for the day, and all are happy to allow Oysters to indulge in attending the various get-togethers and parties they host. The knight on one of the chess teams has the most renowned wine collection, and he's brought some of his finest with him to be enjoyed alongside cheeses and poetry. One of the swimmers is a passionate musician, and has recruited anyone who can play an instrument to discuss musical theory and play together. A croquet player is known for hosting the wildest parties, with free-flowing moonshine and sips of ecstacy tea readily available. There is a flamingo pilot with a book club, an archer who is a fabulous chef, a diver who is a skilled debater with a wicked tongue — whatever you like to indulge in, chances are, someone's throwing a party for it.
The games will end on the 23rd, with a roaring celebration of all who participated in the competition. The pool area will be taken over for the farewell party, with music, food, alcohol, and dancing available. It is here that the winners of the competitions will be announced, and prizes will be awarded.
Then, of course, there are the less official activities. Whispers will begin to spread about another kind of competition being run after hours, when all good competitors should be sleeping. No one quite knows who's running it — one person heard it was the coach of one of the chess teams, eager to get her players extra practice; another heard it was one of the chess players themselves; still another will say it is an ice skater, a flamingo pilot, a gymnast. After all, it hardly matters, does it, as long as it runs, and there is a fight every night? Oysters are welcomed into this competition as well, where the only rule is not to kill your opponent. Teas of all kinds exchange hands as bets are placed on the fights, and the champion is rumored to receive a truly spectacular prize.
If fighting is not to your speed, fear not. All of the competitors seem to have different ways to unwind after the games are completed for the day, and all are happy to allow Oysters to indulge in attending the various get-togethers and parties they host. The knight on one of the chess teams has the most renowned wine collection, and he's brought some of his finest with him to be enjoyed alongside cheeses and poetry. One of the swimmers is a passionate musician, and has recruited anyone who can play an instrument to discuss musical theory and play together. A croquet player is known for hosting the wildest parties, with free-flowing moonshine and sips of ecstacy tea readily available. There is a flamingo pilot with a book club, an archer who is a fabulous chef, a diver who is a skilled debater with a wicked tongue — whatever you like to indulge in, chances are, someone's throwing a party for it.
The games will end on the 23rd, with a roaring celebration of all who participated in the competition. The pool area will be taken over for the farewell party, with music, food, alcohol, and dancing available. It is here that the winners of the competitions will be announced, and prizes will be awarded.
If you have any questions, please leave them over here! Results for the access code sign ups and the distractions will go out on the 14th, so players have until then to sign up. Characters can use the keycodes to access areas and cause distractions from the 16th through the 23rd — and beyond, but after the final party they may no longer have an easy excuse. If you wish to have your character compete in one of the competitions for the prizes, you can sign up here! Winners will be RNGed.
© tessisamess
COMMANDER SHEPARD ♥ MASS EFFECT
Shepard knew how to play chess. She'd played it before, if not particularly well, but really it was all about the opponent; and her only option, on the Normandy, had been a certified inter-stellar master of the game. So, she did, she knew how to play.
There is no part of the game of Chess that involved trying to take a pawn, and the other pawn having the option of laying the capturing piece out with a sharp right hook.
Shepard had been a mediocre chess player. But she was finding, as she stepped into the final row and was handed a shiny, monochrome crown to top her pawn's ensemble, that whatever was in the past... She was shaping up as a fantastic chess piece. She grinned, crowned herself the second queen, and turned to wink at the spectators. Maybe they would win the war, maybe they wouldn't, but the battle was sure as hell not lost just yet.
ii. look out, it's a Distraction! —wait, where?!
Now, normally Shepard wouldn't do this kind of thing for no reason, but she would absolutely do it. Had done it in the past, mostly to trick people into giving her discounts at overpriced shops, but then... who wouldn't? Well, not Shepard at least. But maybe you find her at the bar, or in the crowd, and want to ask her for a distraction. Maybe she'll say yes.
Maybe you already asked her and...
➼ Shepard is slurring mightily, hanging off of first one waiter and then another. There's a drink in her hand, and she's tossing it back— how is she dry, when so much of what was in the glass is now all over the person next to her? Nevermind, she'll help clean it up, and if that involves putting her arms around the serving-boy's big handsome shoulders, well... sometimes you need to get your balance. Sometimes, you need a new drink! Sometimes you need to overbalance and send the whole tray of drinks shattering to the floor in a million crystalline pieces! Maybe that's enough of a distraction for just about anything to go unnoticed.
➼ Shepard is shopping in the impromptu little market, her own priceless little collection of teas cupped in one hand. That is, until suddenly there's one fewer. Wait, is there? How many did she have originally? Well she seems to think that she had one more. Are you calling her a liar? You're a thief! What is this racket, steal from people and then jack up their prices? You think you can look down on her, just because she's been robbed? Because she isn't as well-off as you are? HEY EVERYBODY, THIS SHOP DISCRIMINATES AGAINST POOR PEOPLE! There, that ought to do it.
➼ You know what makes people twice as uncomfortable? Twice as likely to look in the wrong direction while a friend does something nefarious? Having a third friend to help with the distraction grift. You could be that friend. Are you that friend?
iii. the misty demons of Indulgence
As is her tradition at parties, Shepard makes time to do the rounds. You can find her dipping a toe into nearly every activity. Here she is haunting the buffet, taking a rude morsel to compliment her heavy plates as she goes. Here she is leaning against the bar, watching the concert as light flash, wine in one hand, relaxed and easygoing. Here she is watching the ice sculptures come to life, or betting on the flamingos, or getting her toenails painted withtiny black-red-white stripes, relaxing herbal smoothie in hand. She knows how to indulge, when she has to, or at least to give the illusion of doing so.
"You having as much fun as I am?" she'll ask anyone who approaches her, and invite them to take the place at her elbow, to join in, "Hell of a shore leave."
But for all that she drinks, or seems to drink, she's never quite as drunk as she ought to be. Never really smiling as freely as she might. But never you mind; come join her! Have a shot! Smell this, it'll cure what hangover you've built up. Stay awhile, friend, and let's chat.
iv. Fights will go on as long as they have to
Really, she wasn't quite sure how she'd gotten into this mess. Well, no, that wasn't true; someone had said underground fighting ring, and three more intriguing words had yet to be spoken in her presence. Oh, the hotel was nice, with its soft beds and free booze, and it's weird teas and all the ridiculous indulgences a person could desire, even when it wasn't the supposed theme of the party, but this?
This... this scrum, this chaotic, writhing mass of thrown fists and biting and outpouring of catharsis? Well... It wasn't as if she hadn't egged it on. Was currently egging it on. Alright, maybe it wasn't fair to say that she had no idea how she got here. Shepard is an enthusiastic participant in the current twenty-way brawl, to the point where she's pleased as anything to tackle someone off another oyster who's gotten themselves temporarily in over their head. She punches the guy once, twice, again, pauses for breath, and then hits him with a few more for good measure...
... and then lurches back to her feet and falls in alongside her new friend. The hotel was a fine thing, but this, now... This was what was real.
"Up on your feet, now! I got your back," She has blood on her shirt, a split lip, and is grinning with the open innocence of a child's delight, "You alright?"
vi. Wildcard
[hit me with your own idea of what to do!]
fight?
His rescuer sounded like she was having a blast though. He glanced up, taking in the wide grin and the bloody clothing and then chuckled, giving his head a shake as he sucked in some more air, turned his head and spat. No blood save for what felt like a bitten tongue so he climbed back to his feet with a small grin.
"I'm fine; just got hit in the right spot. Thanks for the rescue."
no subject
There's not a lot of efficiency in the way she kicks out his knees, but there's quite a good deal of blood on his face afterwards and a satisfying sort of crunch when she breaks his nose with her foot, so. The theme was indulgence, after all.
"Find a wall!" They wouldn't have to guard all sides, nor would she have to look out for him quite so vigilantly, if they could count on at least one side not being populated by enemies, "—and I'm Shepard! You?"
no subject
A wall was a good idea, though first he had to pick up a chair leg and lobe it at a chess knight. It missed as the knight ducked to avoid getting hit, leaving enough breathing room for him to find the wall.
"Wu Xie. I'm new."
no subject
"Nice," She likes this guy already. Nothing like a strong backup to get into Shepard's good graces. Shepard steps back to let a half-drunk brawler meet her knee at an unpleasant halfway point, then moves with him towards the indicated cover, "Hell of a first week. Could be worse, if you believe it."
no subject
"Oh?"
He draws the word out even as he tugs the pipe free and brings it down on another foot.
"I thought creepy casino stealing emotions was bad as it is."
no subject
The pipe whistles as it goes over her head and she joins him in the mutual seeding of future trauma in its former weilder. What the hell, was this supposed to be a bare-knuckle brawl or a literal murder scene? If the former, bad form, but if the latter...
"Some people have no manners," She isn't even wearing shoes, let alone her best face-stomping boots, "This is getting old. I'm hungry— You?"
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
fightfightfightfightfight
He has a few new bruises, by the time Shepard pulls the other guy off him, his nose running blood, but he's grinning, just like always, in spite of it. Wei Wuxian is just trying to twist enough to throw the guy off him, but scrambles to his feet instead, wiping his fist through the mess under his nose and spitting a little blood to the side. It's good to hear a familiar voice, in all the chaos, and he just laughs in response.
"I definitely would've had him!"
no subject
Shepard grabs the offending wrist and twists her weight into the momentum of the stumble, pulling them further into their fall and harder into her abruptly-raised knee. It is a blunt, ugly movement that has no grace about it, save the rigid grace that all efficiency shares, but it is utterly, brutally effective. That's one more unconscious body to add to the existing collection thereof.
"Keep your eyes open, Wei Wuxian," Shepard's fists are up, a boxer's guard. Oh yes, this is fun. She's having a grand time, "You'll live longer!"
no subject
He steps out of the way as Shepard takes the man down quickly, and viciously. Wei Wuxian might not always play by the rules or spar properly, even in a fair fight, but this is completely different from any of the scrapes he's been in before.
"They're open, they're open!" he laughs, not sure what to make of Shepard's fighting stance. Well, she seems able to use it effectively, he supposes, though it's definitely unorthodox. His own steps are light, now that he's on his feet, and he seems to dodge far more than he attacks, content to wait for openings as they come.
"Where did you learn that?" he asks, ducking a punch meant for his face.
no subject
"Alliance standard hand-to-hand training," She replied, shortly, daring to take her eyes off the crowd to shoot him a smirk, "...And a lot of experience. You should see me in a real fight!"
It's a lot less gentle, for one. And a lot faster; when your only goal is to kill or get past your opponent, there's no call for subtleties or hesitation. Then too, in a real fight, a deadly fight, she wouldn't be restricted only to fists.
"I'm a vanguard. First in, last out," this last word punctuated by the grunt of effort that came with dropping out of guard, snatching up another of the hopefuls that thought to take her on, and bodily levering over one shoulder onto the ground where he then lay, winded and whining, "This is just sad, though."
no subject
"I hope I never have to see you in a real fight," he laughs. The first time he'd met her, she'd been quick to suggest shivving as a stealth tactic, and seeing her now, he was even more certain she'd meant it.
Keeping Shepard at his back means less dodging, but it also means there might as well be a wall behind him. He crouches under a swinging arm and lands a solid palmstrike to another fighter's torso, sending him flying back into a few others. Not bad, that tea, he thinks, though he might want to dial it back a little.
"Lots of numbers," he agrees, "much less actual skill, oop-"
He catches a fist, using the other's momentum to lead them out of his way, then follows with a kick to their rear as they pass him. His fighting style definitely borders on playful, rather than efficient, though it's obvious he's having no less fun.
no subject
What? She can remember an origin story, when it's fed to her. Particularly when there's room to breathe as someone makes a lunge, then checks their progress when they see just who they're lunging for. Shepard spreads her arms, both a sarcastic boast and open invitation, and the woman takes it for the insult it is and resumes her charge. Shepard steps aside and casually rebounds her elbow from their face with a force that bounces the woman bodily back into the embrace of her fellows, who immediately drag her back into the fray.
"Used to be I could get this finished in five seconds. I miss biotics."
(no subject)
i think this is okay?
Yay~
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
no subject
He grins at her, not quite as sharp as when they were out in the woods, but still a little bit wild, and raises an eyebrow.
What's she got up her sleeve this time?
no subject
Hell, since meeting Garrus.
It was the same feeling, of slotting into one another's understanding. Like swinging up and finding your secondary target already holed and your focus no longer split. Like turning a corner and already being known. Like having a team. She liked Sam.
But chemistry or no, there was no way they were gonna get this stupid blind-drop emptied without a little discretion. Fortunately, Shepard had so little discretion to her that she was betting it'd loop right back around to actual stealth if she pulled it off. So after loitering around the spot for long enough, Shepard put down her glass abruptly, put a hand on his shoulder, and said.
"Just go with it here for me, alright?" Then she pulled him down, tall fuck that he was, and made a show of it. A kiss can be good, and a kiss can be photogenic, but a kiss worth having is rarely both. This one was at least long and tender enough to engender embarrassment in the viewer, or so she was hoping. And if the staff weren't the only ones a little distracted at the moment?
Well, who could blame her?
no subject
But sometimes, it is. Sometimes he meets someone like Riley, or Steve, and it just is. It's the way you can read intentions in the tilt of an eyebrow or the curve of a smirk, the way you can move in sync with barely a second thought when things get messy, the way you can feel the thrum of shared experience under your skin without necessarily even knowing exactly what that experience is.
Shepard's one of those. It's a fact he's aware of even now, as they work together to try to make sure they don't get caught - or, well. Make sure others don't get caught, anyway, he's not actually planning on trying to access anything himself.
He twigs to what she's doing just before she pulls him in, and he has just enough time to wipe the grin off his face and make sure that when she kisses him, he's ready to give it the hell back. His hand comes up to cup her cheek, thumb running gently over the line of her jaw, and he doesn't even have to pretend to let the rest of the room fall away.
Oh, he knows exactly what this is - Natasha's one of his best friends, after all - but he likes her, and he doesn't have to pretend for that, either.
no subject
"I should go."
She's not much of a climber, by nature, but she is short which makes monkeys of even the most downwardly-inclined. It's the work of a moment, a boost, a scramble, snatching at the little note, and then hopping down again; heavier than she might, unless he catches her.
Catch her, Sam.
no subject
It's never been with someone who - with someone like Shepard. And he can't tell - is it easy to free-fall with her because it'd always been before, or is it easy because it's Shepard?
He doesn't have the answer even when she pulls away, but his smile is softer than the grin he'd pressed against her skin.
"I'll be here."
Sam keeps half an eye on her and half on their surroundings, just in case - but no one comes close to them, giving them their space, and he turns back to her as she jumps down.
Of course he catches her.
When he sets her down, he stays pressed in close, just in case anyone decides to look their way again - and so he can see what she'd pulled down, of course.
no subject
"Bet you ten credits, this is about an underground resistance," Shepard murmurs, with the salted air of a lifelong cynic, "Sam?"
Oh, he is tall. Everyone is tall, compared to her, but— at the moment he seems to have all the height in the world. It's either annoying or... a different kind of annoying. Shepard isn't really sure which.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
III
He slides up to her at the bar, mixed cocktail of his own in hand, and grins.
"Shepard!" he laughs, "what're you drinking? Anything good?"
no subject
The brighter the frog, the more deadly the poison, as they say.
"You look like you got something to say."
no subject
"I'll drink to that," he laughs, and raises his glass to do just that. He takes a second to taste it on his tongue as he thinks how best to phrase his questions.
"Mm, well, I always have something to say," he concedes, "but this is something I could only ask you about. I thought of some more questions to bother you with!"
no subject
Could be anything. Could be nothing. Shepard is, at least outwardly, very entertained by the possibilities.
"Shoot, what'cha got?"
no subject
"Yes! Okay," he starts, "so, it's a little bit vocabulary, and then ah... maybe if I describe something, you might know what it is?"
Hopefully. If not, he could always try drawing a picture on one of the bar's paper napkins, he supposes.
"What does calibrate mean? And why would you need to re calibrate someone?"
no subject
Alright, that's officially a weird question to be asking out of nowhere, even for the standards previously set by one Wei Wuxian, patron saint of absolute horseshit. Shepard is leaned back against the bar, elbows up, stance wide in clear and deliberate violation of both protocol and politeness, but then she goes to great pains to come across as not polite, when she can.
"Calibrations are... when you make something more accurate. Usually you do it with the aim of a weapon, or a targeting system or something," Which isn't strictly accurate, of course, "I don't even know how you'd calibrate a person."
But her tone is thoughtful because, as soon as she says it, she thinks she does know how you'd apply that word to something like that. With a geth, or an android, or the mobile platform for an AI. And would Wei Wuxian know the difference? This is a person who calls both dead and living by the name corpse, so who can say?
"You've been busy."
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)