( in the end, it's sunday who helps her find a new room to stay in. it had come up in conversation as nothing urgent nor as something that he should worry himself too much with, but sunday has become well-read in understanding what wanda seems to leave unsaid. it took about half a day of looking at options for a room to be picked; things were packed somewhat haphazardly into boxes, placed inside his car, and after a few trips up and down the stairs to bring her things in... there it was—a new place to call home.
it's a smaller place, square in shape but for the en-suite bathroom, though being in the corner of the building allows her to have two tall windows. curtains she still needs, but there's a heater in the corner, a few shelving units, a bed, a table big enough for two, and a small kitchenette with the bare basic: a mini fridge, a counter top with a sink, and a portable electric stove she can plug in. it's all hardly functional, still, and it's messier than not, and wanda has yet to make progress in unpacking.
not even knowing that sunday is coming over makes her proactive in her efforts for a semblance of order, so he will find, upon arrival, that her door isn't locked, and she is lying down on the floor, one foot on top of a box and the other under the bed, the book tulipomania held between her hands above her head. or maybe he won't see her at all, for a moment yet. )
You're supposed to knock.
( says a voice from the floor, from between the various boxes. )
[ It's a comfort to have Wanda closer even if there's no happiness in the reason why she's had to move, and that's true regardless of whether he can sense her feelings about it or not. Wanda hasn't said much on it yet and Sunday has not pried any further than some very general questions to give her the space to answer if she wanted, but at least she's here.
True to his word of showing up as he'd messaged her he would for whatever plans they've made this day, though Sunday made a stop by the flower cart he's walked past over the last couple of days. It'd caught his eye with the varieties of blooms, and what better for a housewarming present? This time he stops to browse and look over the options carefully, eventually and with Nina's help selecting a small grouping of flowers which complement each other.
As he steps through the door into Wanda's room said flowers are carefully cradled in one arm like they were on the short walk back to prevent any damage to go with the bag in his other hand, but then he pauses. He can tell she's here somewhere though somehow not in sight, and Sunday takes another step inside with a frown.
Only to startle when she speaks, and even if it's a small startle it's still enough to crinkle the plastic wrapped around the flowers tellingly before he turns to where she is on the floor. ]
You were supposed to be unpacking.
[ Which she clearly is not!! No matter, though, since Sunday casts another look around then returns his gaze to her there's more pressing topics first. Such as - ]
( wanda sits up properly, setting the book down beside her, still open on the page she had been reading a few times since her mind would insist on wandering. it's impossible to miss the spike in his heartbeat, in the flare of his emotions—she must have scared him a bit.
that had not been her intent at all, but it's an endearing reaction, regardless. wanda pushes herself up to stand, stretching a little, and following curiously after the sound of crinkling plastic she had heard when he tensed up.
flowers. )
Oh. Those are pretty.
( no comment about the unpacking, distracted instead by the colorful bundle in his arms. she doesn't want to assume that they're for her, but it delights her so that he'd consider her, like this. immediately, she goes to the kitchen, looking for a water jar from one of the cupboards. )
( if there's one thing that could bring wanda out of her (momentary) slump, it's the promise of a home cooked meal. more so than that, it's finding that cassian has taken her request to 'bring C4T too' seriously, despite her figuring that he would just not bring the little, busted droid along. she had been glancing out the window, keeping it open while it wasn't raining, and got to see when cassian parked his car, stepping out with a bag she assumes contains the food on one hand and the droid held under his arm.
calling out his name so that he looks up, wanda waves at him, then proceeds to go to the door, to meet him once he's made his way up to the second floor. door left open, she waits while leaning against the railing of the walkway, breaking into a smile as she walks closer. there are puddles from the rain, and the rumbling in the clouds above promise even more of that in no time at all. )
You brought him.
( of course, her attention (and warm affection) goes toward the inanimate object, as she picks it up from under his arm, placing it against her front as she wraps her arms around it, leading the way now to the open door.
it goes without saying, but she's grateful to cassian for coming at all and indulging an otherwise silly request. she leads the way in, her room much neater than it was days ago when she first moved in. there's been an effort to decorate, fairy lights and curtains where most of her efforts have gone to, if only a little overboard with the lights. some cardboard boxes linger in the corner, the shelves mostly empty but for a few tchotchkes. )
Take your shoes off. ( she instructs, doing the same for her slippers, as she moves to the middle of her room on socked feet and puts C4T on the floor. immediately, after the push of a button, it turns on from its sleep-mode, and starts moving about, singing a little tune in the process. wanda looks back at him over her shoulder, smiling, then seems to realize—
the one table in the room holds a number of random trinkets: rings, a box of cigarettes, some rolled up joolies, a used teacup, cassettes, and an upside down, opened book. she leaves C4T to his exploring, and moves things on the table against the wall. ) Do you want to use this table? There's the counter over there if you prefer that instead.
( she points with her nose, motioning to it, hands busy as they are. on the sink, is a vase filled with water, holding some flowers. weirdly enough, the placement of things in her room feel like they're halfway set, not entirely where they're supposed to be, actions left unfinished somewhere along the way.
funny, though, how their interactions don't really have a greeting or a farewell, these days. it just feels like a natural continuation from other times they've hung out together. C4T chirps some more as it bonks against the wall, turning around to continue with its exploring. still, she stops for a moment, standing straight, properly— )
You're my first guest here. Don't be rude.
( with the (potential) judgement on her (sparse) decorations. sunday definitely doesn't count as a guest!! )
[ For all the ridiculous things that had been written on the card, it had been telling the truth about his cooking. Cassian really was a better cook than most gave him credit for. Maybe not award winning, but he knew his way around a kitchen and had taken some time to acquaint himself with how to properly handle a knife, understand with a strange uncanniness how to marry certain flavours together, and just generally enjoyed it.
Life on the road however doesn't make that easy to do. And the lack of ingrediants prior to the Rail opening up had left little in the way of options. For what is a rare moment since arriving here however, it's almost like things could be considered normal.
The feeling had followed him from the moment he'd gone to grocery shop and becomes more apparent when he looks up as she calls out, giving Wanda a brief wave from below before making his way up the stairs to her apartment. It's not surprising to him in the least that it's much cozier than he and Amos' apartment. It's not a comparison however. Neither of them had cared very much for aesthetics, more satisfied that the bare bones of it were sturdy and good and they could do something with it. ]
You would have sent me back if I didn't.
[ With a hand free he leans down to unlace his boots before placing them with the other shoes and makes his way over to the counter. She'd be able to tell where he was going without him needing to announce it; it was becoming one of the perks of their connection that he's slowly becoming acquainted to the idea of. ]
Does burping dust count as rude? [ He nods towards C4T with a wry expression who is in fact burping out some dust as he begins to unpack the ingredients he'd picked out. ] Because that should be directed at C4T.
( wanda is quick to defend the little robot, her usual stance to cassian's general sense of needing to anoint it with critical judgement. but he seems to not have any comments about her space, which is a nice enough thing to figure. though there is now some dust in her room, the currently opened windows will help with that. (un)fortunately, she proceeds to close them, at the first sound of raindrops out on the pavement.
stepping over C4T, she makes her way now towards the counter, glancing over at the ingredients he has brought. wanda takes a moment to try and guess what they'll be having, but settles, instead, with taking the flowers out of the sink and placing them into a water jar—her makeshift vase. )
I've only got the one electric stove. Are you going to need that?
( in many ways, the idea of a visit is exciting. these experiences haven't been very common for wanda, and she isn't all too sure on how to play host, though she wants to help if he needs it. she sets the jar down on the table, looking over to him expectantly. )
( on automatic, wanda thanks the individual who gives her a pamphlet. with an encouraging smile, the individual tells them that they can come in any time, before slipping back closer toward the entrance of the church. wanda glances down at the pamphlet in her hands, then glances up at astarion; figures that one cold, wet night would find her in this kind of place with him.
droplets hammer down against her umbrella. )
You think it'll be worth the trouble?
( it doesn't escape her notice how cult-y this group of people is, how sickeningly saccharine they are, how welcoming. wanda is wary, if only because this type of activity astarion is in favor of is something newer to her, even if she must admit it's always nice to split their earnings later on. glancing back toward the church, it looks somewhat intimidating against the dark skies. )
[ He watches the person slip back into the depths of the church with a finely raised brow, barely tilting his own umbrella to the side to follow their movements more closely. Dark looming building with a clear intent of intimidation? Yes, that sounds about right for any semblance of religion, in his book.
Astarion only gives the pamphlet a glance when Wanda addresses him, instead shifting to look down the line of his shoulder. ]
"Nurture the cosmos like you nurture your soul"...?
[ He scoffs, but he's smiling. Clearly amused. ]
I do love a good cult. They're always a source for some menial entertainment.
[ Might as well call it out as he sees it. ]
Though they're not always terribly well-funded at the start.
( her eyes follow the words he reads, momentarily, before folded the pamphlet in half, nearly crumpling it, and ultimately shoving it inside his trousers' pocket. he can keep the trash, since she's going to be doing some of the heavy lifting here. )
It feels like there's a new one every other month.
( there was that one by the sea, some time back, and now this one. the cube, she surmises, based on the geometric drawings on the pamphlet now in astarion's (reluctant) possession.
wanda takes a moment to be quiet, though, focusing for a moment, eyes closed. noise spills into her mind, unbidden, but she starts to count it, set the different voices aside, one by one. he would get an idea of what she's doing because of the pinching of her brows, the minute tilting of her head.
at last, she opens her eyes, rolling her shoulders back. )
There's twenty-two people inside. They're in a good mood. The one who talked to us has high hopes we'll go in soon.
( they can check out what their funds situation is like if they do. )
Should we act hard to get, or are we into the idea of joining?
(eko-lite,the thrift store, is, for all intents and purposes, cramped, but there is a sense of order amidst the chaos. not that wanda would know; she's been out since last week, and came back to find that a lot of the pieces were not organized when brought in from the back. silvia, the older lady who owns the store, while apologetic, basically told wanda that she leaves the place on her capable hands.
off she went, on some other quest somewhere in the city to find more secondhand items to bring to the store. her sense of adventure hasn't diminished despite the years. not that wanda minds an awful lot. she's been working here for months now, and it's an easy enough job with a good enough pay (and she gets to keep any wares she likes, granted that they aren't sold before the end of the day—which is usually the case).
as wanda organizes a pile of quilts (unfolding them, folding them again, stacking them neatly one atop the other), the front door opens. the wail of the wind and the drumming of raindrops on the streets outside waltzes inside alongside the potential customer while the door remains open, thankfully quieting down once it's closed again. wanda glances up, at the — very tall woman.
...the floor will inevitable be wet and messy, won't it? )
Welcome.
( comes her voice, from somewhere amidst the piles of clothes and other items. she moves toward the main aisle, folding a quilt in half in the process. )
If you're looking for something specific, just let me know.
( otherwise, wanda will be happy to return to being anti-social while she organizes the space. )
[ And then one day — longer after her arrival than she's likely to admit — Jasnah decides it's time to invest some of her hard-scrounged joolies on something else to wear. Before today, she's been wearing and washing (and rinsing and repeating) her one havah. Mostly because, just as the man she'd hit with her truck had warned her, options with safehand sleeves are thin on the ground. You see, Jasnah's dress has an asymmetrically long left sleeve; it reaches well past her fingertips and buttons shut. It's a very conventional outfit back in any Vorin nation on Roshar. Here, however, she's starting to chafe against how it makes her stand out.
And so she finds herself stepping out of the rain — umbrella folding shut — and into the thrift store. She resists the urge to shake the rain off her boots, her hem, any part of her that might have been not-quite-covered by the umbrella. She cleaves her attention instead to the shop's interior, digesting the parts that are chaos and the parts that are order.
Jasnah fully intends to browse on her own when a voice draws her gaze to — oh! There. There's an odd pause that anyone who has worked long in customer-facing roles might recognize: the blank gaze and stuttering body language of someone who knows they do indeed want to ask for something specific, but just can't quite spit it out straight away.
After a heartbeat: ] ...Do you have any odd gloves?
( truth be told, wanda would be more than content to ignore the awkward shuffle as the woman struggles to say what she intends. finishing folding the quilt into a precise square, she sets it back down with the rest of, in time to hear the question. )
Odd gloves.
( she echoes, uncertain what that exactly means. all sorts of people end up drifting into diadem, so it stands to reason that not everyone has the same kind of fashion. looking at how this woman is dressed, in a havah (this being unknown to wanda), completely contrasts the more modern attire" of wanda's preference.
instead of having the woman try to elaborate or explain, wanda, instead, motions to be followed, as she leads the way to a series of shelves that contain two boxes labeled 'gloves'. )
These are the ones we have. ( and adds, having noted that her clothes are a little dirty and wet. ) We have clothes, too. Like dresses and long skirts, some waterproof jackets for the rain.
( by the time wanda has finished cleaning up (read: mopping the floor from the transit of wet shoes, coming in and out—some to actually shop, others to escape the rain) and is setting the mop down in the bucket by the staff door, she really expects a moment of peace to give the floor a chance to dry properly. instead, the door bursts open, push inward by the cold wind, and in comes tumbling another person trying to hide away from the rain.
wanda really does not mind, but she just finished mopping—
with a sigh, she decided to let it be, reckons that it's a lost cause. so, instead of going back to grab the mop, she goes to the back of the counter, sits on the stool, stares at the newcomer, and waits for the door to close before saying, )
Hi, sorry, just give me a second. [ Peter is trying very hard to shake most of the water off his fixed up umbrella outside the thrift store. He doesn't want to be rude but it's a little bit of a lost cause from how much rain there is. ]
Uh, sorry again about the mess. [ He leans his umbrella against the wall near the door even though he knows that it might "walk away". He doesn't want to drip around the whole shop though. ] I feel like I live in England with all this rain.
[ He shoves his hands into his pockets as he starts to browse the shelves. ] So, uh, is there a section for tech stuff?
( wanda gives him a second, ten seconds, however long he needs, because—really—it's not like she's got anywhere else to go, and it's clear, from what she can pick up from his thoughts that he is actually apologetic for the mess. small victories, even if she'll be cleaning up again soon enough. )
Makes you miss the snow from before.
( —she can't know that he's a newer fluxdrift that didn't get to experience winter wonderland in panorama. england, though, is a familiar country, even if there are plenty of people here who know of it.
wanda leans back, arms stretched out before her, hands on the counter— )
We got some of that.
( —which is enough to push herself off the stool, hopping off and walking around the counter, to one of the aisles closer to the wall. there are a bunch of boxes with what peter can assume are 'tech stuff'. )
Anything in specific you're looking for? ( her accent is central european, heavy and pretty humorless. ) We have things for radios, some bits and bobs ( literally what it says on the box, which she points to, ) for TVs, a lot of remote controllers and cables, a toaster...
( would that silvia has put wanda in charge, too, of job interviews. not that they get many prospective people applying, since silvia tends to be very closed off about wanting new people handling her things. the older woman is quite picky, to say the least, on who she trusts with her business, especially when they're new fluxdrifts. part of wanda thinks (and knows) that the reason silvia is looking for someone else to help is because of wanda's quiet complaints the past week about the place being a mess upon her return from a (needed mental health) break.
wanda looks over the filled out form (is this necessary?) handed over by the young woman across from her on the counter. she's got experience bartending, so that's something... )
Lockhart.
( she finds herself saying out loud, under her breath. it's a pretty name; has nice plosives in the middle and end. )
So, Tifa. ( she places the paper down, palms flat atop it. ) I don't really know how job interviews work. ( honest, plain and simple, green eyes raising to look up at tifa's face— ) If we get along, the job is yours. Let's do thirty minutes of a trial run.
( silvia didn't tell her how to go about it, just to choose someone she liked, so! )
[ it would be a lie to say that tifa isn't nervous. she didn't exactly need a formal interview to get her old job back home, and everything she has done here so far only really required walking in and asking for a job. the downside to that, of course, is that all the jobs suck, but it wasn't too terrible if she was told no; she could just go and find another opening. but this at least would feel like proper work in comparison and, more importantly, stable. and the easiest way to get a proper footing in a new place is stability.
but it's why when wanda just throws out proper interview etiquette and suggests something else, that it takes tifa a few extra seconds to react. it's not what she expected at all.
... not that it's a bad thing. ]
They usually involve you asking questions and then I'd say that I'm a great team player. [ a light attempt at a joke. anyway. ] But that's fine with me. Have you been working here for long?
[ since she is being trusted to run interviews... ]
( is tifa the one asking her the questions now? wanda shrugs her shoulders, aware of the questions bit, at least, but noting the attempt at a joke. wanda's been a little hurt, lately, by the fact that people she felt closest to left without warning; it's not them, it's this place. that was the reason for her break from work, upon the storm of emotions, so she's a little guarded about new encounters. )
I arrived in this world about ten months ago, and I've been working here for eight.
( so, yeah, she's been here a while. that stability that tifa is looking for can be found here, especially when— )
The store's been around for about twenty-years, if Silvia is to be believed. ( and with the amount of junk here and in silvia's storage room some streets away? it's not hard to believe that. ) She's a good boss, too.
( the last bit of information she adds softly, pushing herself away from the counter and going around it. when tifa arrived for the 'job interview', wanda had asked her to place the 'WE'LL BE RIGHT BACK!' sign on the door and locking it. )
I'm Wanda, by the way.
( she starts leading the way toward one of the aisles where a bunch of quilts and towels and similar items are. )
We put the very popular items over here. Expect people to make a mess of it, ( as it currently is, the tower of quilts stands a little skewed to the side. ) so you'll have to keep an eye out and try to keep it neat as much as possible.
( wanda motions to it. well? how would you go about it, miss lockhart? )
( after shooting fern a message and a short conversation on the matter, wanda feels slightly more at ease about this short excursion. it's never her intent to be a burden to others, but there's a strong sense of belonging that she feels with fern, to the point where it makes asking for favors not feel embarrassing. especially when it comes to admitting to some kind of weakness.
she is certain that many of the people she knows would feel more at ease if she didn't just go out and about asking for rides when wanting to head out into the fringes. no time like the present, thus, to make herself feel a little more comfortable about riding her motorcycle all the way out past the exit ramp.
wanda waits for fern at the city's edge, holding onto her helmet. when she hears the rumbling of another motorcycle, she knows she won't be alone for long. )
Thanks for coming.
( fern didn't have to, and yet here she was, willing.
the weather isn't the best, but wanda doesn't want that to be a detriment to her efforts. she should be comfortable with riding on her bike whether it snows, rains, or is entirely dry. for now, there's a lull in the forecasted rain, at least. )
We don't have to go for too long, but if you find a zone you want to explore, we can do that.
[ Fern's relationship with Wanda has developed into something she might even be willing to call an easy friendship. They don't know everything there is to know about each other, but they don't have to. They're aware of enough, of the fact that they both have experienced what it's like to feel different from everyone around them. That, and they've both helped the other out with something that was new to them (ice skating, horseback riding), leaving them at what feels like even.
Not that Fern wants to consider any of this transactional, at this point. When Wanda reaches out and explains that she'd like someone else to come out with her to the Fringes, as she's not used to going alone, Fern's quick to agree. It's probably the wiser thing to not ever head out of the city alone, so those are good instincts.
She's more than just an escort, though, she realizes upon reflection. This is also an outing among friends.
She arrives at the predetermined place and time at the edge of the city, her expression shifting into a brief smile when she sees that Wanda also has a motorcycle. It seems they have more than a couple things in common, then.
The weather isn't the best, no, but they should take advantage of the rain letting up for a bit. ]
However long you want, though we shouldn't be caught out there overnight. [ That's dangerous, even for a trained fighter. ] If we find something interesting, we may as well stop. You'd be surprised at what you can find.
[ Things they could sell, back in the city. So with that, she gives a rev of her engine, which comes with — the sound of wolves howling?
Ah, right. She forgot about that. With a small scowl, she shakes her head at Wanda. ] Ignore it.
( when wanda is going about on her short sprints on her motorcycle to feel comfortable enough to go further and further with each trip, she doesn't expect to find this one specific individual on the side of the road, a car in a ditch, and whom she assumes is the (very angry) owner of the car. it's lucky that the rain has stopped momentarily, but she still manages to stop her motorcycle at the edge of a large puddle between herself and the unfolding situation. )
It was not his smartest move. (Not his stupidest either.) He promised the man fifty joolies to take him out into the fringes to loot a diffusion zone or two, but then the man kept talking and talking and talking, and Clarence felt like crashing the car was a mercy to the both of them.
Of course, now the man is yelling at him and maybe threatening to take a tire iron to his head, and that's kind of a problem. He lives in this head, thank you very much. ]
Wanda!
[His relief is palpable. His hands, half-raised in surrender, give a little wave as he staggers back another step.]
My friend here had a little whoopsie with his vehicle, you know how it is, and now he's saying -- what were you saying, pal?
( wanda lies atop lottie's bed, leafing through the pages of one of these oddly modern magazines with the bizarrest of fashion trends, celebrities, and quizzes ('does he like you?' 'how to know what kind of girlfriend you are!'), along with one or two pages dedicated to 'wish the ground would open up and swallow me!' anecdotes by whoever had written in. clearly magazines for teenagers.
in the bathroom is lottie, working on her bleaching products. )
[ It reeks of chemicals. But it's a good thing Lottie can't really smell that well, otherwise the stench of bleach permeating from her bathroom might do more than make her casually lightheaded. She's meticulously (read: slowly) working on her roots, tossing them onto a pile she's already started rather than putting them into foil. Who has time for that?! ]
I'm a Leo.
[ It's instantaneous, how important the answer is to this important conversation at 2am. Lottie, once upon a time, would check her daily horoscope every morning— dictate her day based off of what vague thing it told her that given day. So, of course she'd know what sign she is! ]
My birthday's August 6th! [ Notice: no mention of a year (1990). ] I think I read somewhere that's like, the Leo-est of Leo's? Is that true?
( though she wishes she could come here more often, wanda makes the effort to treat herself to coming to this electronics/music store only after she has finished listening to any new cassette tapes she buys. right now, she is browsing one of the many sections, looking at each case front and back to discern if it'd be something she'd like or not. sometimes getting to listen to something unexpected makes it all worth it. she sets the current cassette down, though, in favor for a video tape, reading over the label on the side.
if only she had a vhs player, and if only she could find something that didn't sound so alien and unfamiliar, like those sitcoms she loved as a kid. )
That's no Dick Van Dyke Show...
( she tells herself, setting the tape back down, about to step to the side to look through another pile, only to find there's someone standing beside her—by way of bumping into them. was she that lost in thought?
rubbing at her nose, she says, )
Sorry.
( surely this won't be an asshole who takes offense to being bumped into, right? )
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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⬡ SUNDAY˖
it's a smaller place, square in shape but for the en-suite bathroom, though being in the corner of the building allows her to have two tall windows. curtains she still needs, but there's a heater in the corner, a few shelving units, a bed, a table big enough for two, and a small kitchenette with the bare basic: a mini fridge, a counter top with a sink, and a portable electric stove she can plug in. it's all hardly functional, still, and it's messier than not, and wanda has yet to make progress in unpacking.
not even knowing that sunday is coming over makes her proactive in her efforts for a semblance of order, so he will find, upon arrival, that her door isn't locked, and she is lying down on the floor, one foot on top of a box and the other under the bed, the book tulipomania held between her hands above her head. or maybe he won't see her at all, for a moment yet. )
You're supposed to knock.
( says a voice from the floor, from between the various boxes. )
no subject
True to his word of showing up as he'd messaged her he would for whatever plans they've made this day, though Sunday made a stop by the flower cart he's walked past over the last couple of days. It'd caught his eye with the varieties of blooms, and what better for a housewarming present? This time he stops to browse and look over the options carefully, eventually and with Nina's help selecting a small grouping of flowers which complement each other.
As he steps through the door into Wanda's room said flowers are carefully cradled in one arm like they were on the short walk back to prevent any damage to go with the bag in his other hand, but then he pauses. He can tell she's here somewhere though somehow not in sight, and Sunday takes another step inside with a frown.
Only to startle when she speaks, and even if it's a small startle it's still enough to crinkle the plastic wrapped around the flowers tellingly before he turns to where she is on the floor. ]
You were supposed to be unpacking.
[ Which she clearly is not!! No matter, though, since Sunday casts another look around then returns his gaze to her there's more pressing topics first. Such as - ]
Though maybe we can start with finding a vase.
no subject
that had not been her intent at all, but it's an endearing reaction, regardless. wanda pushes herself up to stand, stretching a little, and following curiously after the sound of crinkling plastic she had heard when he tensed up.
flowers. )
Oh. Those are pretty.
( no comment about the unpacking, distracted instead by the colorful bundle in his arms. she doesn't want to assume that they're for her, but it delights her so that he'd consider her, like this. immediately, she goes to the kitchen, looking for a water jar from one of the cupboards. )
This is the closest I've got to a vase.
( it'll have to do! )
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
⬡ CASSIAN˖
calling out his name so that he looks up, wanda waves at him, then proceeds to go to the door, to meet him once he's made his way up to the second floor. door left open, she waits while leaning against the railing of the walkway, breaking into a smile as she walks closer. there are puddles from the rain, and the rumbling in the clouds above promise even more of that in no time at all. )
You brought him.
( of course, her attention (and warm affection) goes toward the inanimate object, as she picks it up from under his arm, placing it against her front as she wraps her arms around it, leading the way now to the open door.
it goes without saying, but she's grateful to cassian for coming at all and indulging an otherwise silly request. she leads the way in, her room much neater than it was days ago when she first moved in. there's been an effort to decorate, fairy lights and curtains where most of her efforts have gone to, if only a little overboard with the lights. some cardboard boxes linger in the corner, the shelves mostly empty but for a few tchotchkes. )
Take your shoes off. ( she instructs, doing the same for her slippers, as she moves to the middle of her room on socked feet and puts C4T on the floor. immediately, after the push of a button, it turns on from its sleep-mode, and starts moving about, singing a little tune in the process. wanda looks back at him over her shoulder, smiling, then seems to realize—
the one table in the room holds a number of random trinkets: rings, a box of cigarettes, some rolled up joolies, a used teacup, cassettes, and an upside down, opened book. she leaves C4T to his exploring, and moves things on the table against the wall. ) Do you want to use this table? There's the counter over there if you prefer that instead.
( she points with her nose, motioning to it, hands busy as they are. on the sink, is a vase filled with water, holding some flowers. weirdly enough, the placement of things in her room feel like they're halfway set, not entirely where they're supposed to be, actions left unfinished somewhere along the way.
funny, though, how their interactions don't really have a greeting or a farewell, these days. it just feels like a natural continuation from other times they've hung out together. C4T chirps some more as it bonks against the wall, turning around to continue with its exploring. still, she stops for a moment, standing straight, properly— )
You're my first guest here. Don't be rude.
( with the (potential) judgement on her (sparse) decorations. sunday definitely doesn't count as a guest!! )
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Life on the road however doesn't make that easy to do. And the lack of ingrediants prior to the Rail opening up had left little in the way of options. For what is a rare moment since arriving here however, it's almost like things could be considered normal.
The feeling had followed him from the moment he'd gone to grocery shop and becomes more apparent when he looks up as she calls out, giving Wanda a brief wave from below before making his way up the stairs to her apartment. It's not surprising to him in the least that it's much cozier than he and Amos' apartment. It's not a comparison however. Neither of them had cared very much for aesthetics, more satisfied that the bare bones of it were sturdy and good and they could do something with it. ]
You would have sent me back if I didn't.
[ With a hand free he leans down to unlace his boots before placing them with the other shoes and makes his way over to the counter. She'd be able to tell where he was going without him needing to announce it; it was becoming one of the perks of their connection that he's slowly becoming acquainted to the idea of. ]
Does burping dust count as rude? [ He nods towards C4T with a wry expression who is in fact burping out some dust as he begins to unpack the ingredients he'd picked out. ] Because that should be directed at C4T.
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( wanda is quick to defend the little robot, her usual stance to cassian's general sense of needing to anoint it with critical judgement. but he seems to not have any comments about her space, which is a nice enough thing to figure. though there is now some dust in her room, the currently opened windows will help with that. (un)fortunately, she proceeds to close them, at the first sound of raindrops out on the pavement.
stepping over C4T, she makes her way now towards the counter, glancing over at the ingredients he has brought. wanda takes a moment to try and guess what they'll be having, but settles, instead, with taking the flowers out of the sink and placing them into a water jar—her makeshift vase. )
I've only got the one electric stove. Are you going to need that?
( in many ways, the idea of a visit is exciting. these experiences haven't been very common for wanda, and she isn't all too sure on how to play host, though she wants to help if he needs it. she sets the jar down on the table, looking over to him expectantly. )
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⬡ ASTARION˖
droplets hammer down against her umbrella. )
You think it'll be worth the trouble?
( it doesn't escape her notice how cult-y this group of people is, how sickeningly saccharine they are, how welcoming. wanda is wary, if only because this type of activity astarion is in favor of is something newer to her, even if she must admit it's always nice to split their earnings later on. glancing back toward the church, it looks somewhat intimidating against the dark skies. )
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Astarion only gives the pamphlet a glance when Wanda addresses him, instead shifting to look down the line of his shoulder. ]
"Nurture the cosmos like you nurture your soul"...?
[ He scoffs, but he's smiling. Clearly amused. ]
I do love a good cult. They're always a source for some menial entertainment.
[ Might as well call it out as he sees it. ]
Though they're not always terribly well-funded at the start.
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It feels like there's a new one every other month.
( there was that one by the sea, some time back, and now this one. the cube, she surmises, based on the geometric drawings on the pamphlet now in astarion's (reluctant) possession.
wanda takes a moment to be quiet, though, focusing for a moment, eyes closed. noise spills into her mind, unbidden, but she starts to count it, set the different voices aside, one by one. he would get an idea of what she's doing because of the pinching of her brows, the minute tilting of her head.
at last, she opens her eyes, rolling her shoulders back. )
There's twenty-two people inside. They're in a good mood. The one who talked to us has high hopes we'll go in soon.
( they can check out what their funds situation is like if they do. )
Should we act hard to get, or are we into the idea of joining?
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⬡ JASNAH˖
off she went, on some other quest somewhere in the city to find more secondhand items to bring to the store. her sense of adventure hasn't diminished despite the years. not that wanda minds an awful lot. she's been working here for months now, and it's an easy enough job with a good enough pay (and she gets to keep any wares she likes, granted that they aren't sold before the end of the day—which is usually the case).
as wanda organizes a pile of quilts (unfolding them, folding them again, stacking them neatly one atop the other), the front door opens. the wail of the wind and the drumming of raindrops on the streets outside waltzes inside alongside the potential customer while the door remains open, thankfully quieting down once it's closed again. wanda glances up, at the — very tall woman.
...the floor will inevitable be wet and messy, won't it? )
Welcome.
( comes her voice, from somewhere amidst the piles of clothes and other items. she moves toward the main aisle, folding a quilt in half in the process. )
If you're looking for something specific, just let me know.
( otherwise, wanda will be happy to return to being anti-social while she organizes the space. )
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And so she finds herself stepping out of the rain — umbrella folding shut — and into the thrift store. She resists the urge to shake the rain off her boots, her hem, any part of her that might have been not-quite-covered by the umbrella. She cleaves her attention instead to the shop's interior, digesting the parts that are chaos and the parts that are order.
Jasnah fully intends to browse on her own when a voice draws her gaze to — oh! There. There's an odd pause that anyone who has worked long in customer-facing roles might recognize: the blank gaze and stuttering body language of someone who knows they do indeed want to ask for something specific, but just can't quite spit it out straight away.
After a heartbeat: ] ...Do you have any odd gloves?
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Odd gloves.
( she echoes, uncertain what that exactly means. all sorts of people end up drifting into diadem, so it stands to reason that not everyone has the same kind of fashion. looking at how this woman is dressed, in a havah (this being unknown to wanda), completely contrasts the more modern attire" of wanda's preference.
instead of having the woman try to elaborate or explain, wanda, instead, motions to be followed, as she leads the way to a series of shelves that contain two boxes labeled 'gloves'. )
These are the ones we have. ( and adds, having noted that her clothes are a little dirty and wet. ) We have clothes, too. Like dresses and long skirts, some waterproof jackets for the rain.
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⬡ PETER˖
wanda really does not mind, but she just finished mopping—
with a sigh, she decided to let it be, reckons that it's a lost cause. so, instead of going back to grab the mop, she goes to the back of the counter, sits on the stool, stares at the newcomer, and waits for the door to close before saying, )
Watch your step.
( don't slip in your own rain water, buddy. )
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Uh, sorry again about the mess. [ He leans his umbrella against the wall near the door even though he knows that it might "walk away". He doesn't want to drip around the whole shop though. ] I feel like I live in England with all this rain.
[ He shoves his hands into his pockets as he starts to browse the shelves. ] So, uh, is there a section for tech stuff?
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Makes you miss the snow from before.
( —she can't know that he's a newer fluxdrift that didn't get to experience winter wonderland in panorama. england, though, is a familiar country, even if there are plenty of people here who know of it.
wanda leans back, arms stretched out before her, hands on the counter— )
We got some of that.
( —which is enough to push herself off the stool, hopping off and walking around the counter, to one of the aisles closer to the wall. there are a bunch of boxes with what peter can assume are 'tech stuff'. )
Anything in specific you're looking for? ( her accent is central european, heavy and pretty humorless. ) We have things for radios, some bits and bobs ( literally what it says on the box, which she points to, ) for TVs, a lot of remote controllers and cables, a toaster...
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⬡ TIFA˖
wanda looks over the filled out form (is this necessary?) handed over by the young woman across from her on the counter. she's got experience bartending, so that's something... )
Lockhart.
( she finds herself saying out loud, under her breath. it's a pretty name; has nice plosives in the middle and end. )
So, Tifa. ( she places the paper down, palms flat atop it. ) I don't really know how job interviews work. ( honest, plain and simple, green eyes raising to look up at tifa's face— ) If we get along, the job is yours. Let's do thirty minutes of a trial run.
( silvia didn't tell her how to go about it, just to choose someone she liked, so! )
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but it's why when wanda just throws out proper interview etiquette and suggests something else, that it takes tifa a few extra seconds to react. it's not what she expected at all.
... not that it's a bad thing. ]
They usually involve you asking questions and then I'd say that I'm a great team player. [ a light attempt at a joke. anyway. ] But that's fine with me. Have you been working here for long?
[ since she is being trusted to run interviews... ]
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I arrived in this world about ten months ago, and I've been working here for eight.
( so, yeah, she's been here a while. that stability that tifa is looking for can be found here, especially when— )
The store's been around for about twenty-years, if Silvia is to be believed. ( and with the amount of junk here and in silvia's storage room some streets away? it's not hard to believe that. ) She's a good boss, too.
( the last bit of information she adds softly, pushing herself away from the counter and going around it. when tifa arrived for the 'job interview', wanda had asked her to place the 'WE'LL BE RIGHT BACK!' sign on the door and locking it. )
I'm Wanda, by the way.
( she starts leading the way toward one of the aisles where a bunch of quilts and towels and similar items are. )
We put the very popular items over here. Expect people to make a mess of it, ( as it currently is, the tower of quilts stands a little skewed to the side. ) so you'll have to keep an eye out and try to keep it neat as much as possible.
( wanda motions to it. well? how would you go about it, miss lockhart? )
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⬡ FERN˖
she is certain that many of the people she knows would feel more at ease if she didn't just go out and about asking for rides when wanting to head out into the fringes. no time like the present, thus, to make herself feel a little more comfortable about riding her motorcycle all the way out past the exit ramp.
wanda waits for fern at the city's edge, holding onto her helmet. when she hears the rumbling of another motorcycle, she knows she won't be alone for long. )
Thanks for coming.
( fern didn't have to, and yet here she was, willing.
the weather isn't the best, but wanda doesn't want that to be a detriment to her efforts. she should be comfortable with riding on her bike whether it snows, rains, or is entirely dry. for now, there's a lull in the forecasted rain, at least. )
We don't have to go for too long, but if you find a zone you want to explore, we can do that.
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Not that Fern wants to consider any of this transactional, at this point. When Wanda reaches out and explains that she'd like someone else to come out with her to the Fringes, as she's not used to going alone, Fern's quick to agree. It's probably the wiser thing to not ever head out of the city alone, so those are good instincts.
She's more than just an escort, though, she realizes upon reflection. This is also an outing among friends.
She arrives at the predetermined place and time at the edge of the city, her expression shifting into a brief smile when she sees that Wanda also has a motorcycle. It seems they have more than a couple things in common, then.
The weather isn't the best, no, but they should take advantage of the rain letting up for a bit. ]
However long you want, though we shouldn't be caught out there overnight. [ That's dangerous, even for a trained fighter. ] If we find something interesting, we may as well stop. You'd be surprised at what you can find.
[ Things they could sell, back in the city. So with that, she gives a rev of her engine, which comes with — the sound of wolves howling?
Ah, right. She forgot about that. With a small scowl, she shakes her head at Wanda. ] Ignore it.
⬡ CLARENCE˖
Clarence.
( she only recognizes the one guy! )
You two alright?
( surely the situation will be cleared up... )
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It was not his smartest move. (Not his stupidest either.) He promised the man fifty joolies to take him out into the fringes to loot a diffusion zone or two, but then the man kept talking and talking and talking, and Clarence felt like crashing the car was a mercy to the both of them.
Of course, now the man is yelling at him and maybe threatening to take a tire iron to his head, and that's kind of a problem. He lives in this head, thank you very much. ]
Wanda!
[His relief is palpable. His hands, half-raised in surrender, give a little wave as he staggers back another step.]
My friend here had a little whoopsie with his vehicle, you know how it is, and now he's saying -- what were you saying, pal?
["Fuck you!" he yells. Tough crowd. ]
⬡ LOTTIE˖
in the bathroom is lottie, working on her bleaching products. )
Are you an Aries, Gemini or a Taurus?
( important conversations for 2AM. )
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I'm a Leo.
[ It's instantaneous, how important the answer is to this important conversation at 2am. Lottie, once upon a time, would check her daily horoscope every morning— dictate her day based off of what vague thing it told her that given day. So, of course she'd know what sign she is! ]
My birthday's August 6th! [ Notice: no mention of a year (1990). ] I think I read somewhere that's like, the Leo-est of Leo's? Is that true?
⬡ MURDERBOT˖
if only she had a vhs player, and if only she could find something that didn't sound so alien and unfamiliar, like those sitcoms she loved as a kid. )
That's no Dick Van Dyke Show...
( she tells herself, setting the tape back down, about to step to the side to look through another pile, only to find there's someone standing beside her—by way of bumping into them. was she that lost in thought?
rubbing at her nose, she says, )
Sorry.
( surely this won't be an asshole who takes offense to being bumped into, right? )