Misty Day (
shadowsran) wrote in
networkinthenight2019-10-06 04:30 pm
[audio] @silver; Backdated to the fifth [open]
[Someone had been around the docks when...all of that happened, broken an arm, and spent the following days snugly shut up tight in her house. Not a weakness she wants on display, of course, but she's angry, and having been in no useful condition for supply-regathering isn't much of a boon to her pride. But a handful of days shut up are little better.]
Couple things, just, quick.
Couldn't stick around the ferry and people's chief concern seems to have been food, which is fine, but I'm wondering if anyone got gardening supplies, and if those made it? I've mentioned it in passing to a handful, but especially given the exact worry I had was just proven right, no excuse to not be proactive anymore. We have good gardening types here, and it's better for the town as a whole if we can set a couple plots up...immediately? Fast as possible. A couple of small greenhouses are kind of a must at this point too. I'm not really up to building and clearing condition right now, so anybody brave enough to turn soil and move rocks and handle basic construction, drop me a line. People I talked to before, uh, the same I guess? We can divvy up who goes where, five people per square foot's a bad spread of resources.
Second thing - I'm getting the impression nobody's liking those flowers very much. [She's...largely unperturbed. Distressingly accustomed, at this point. Were the month not getting off on such a broken foot she'd be amused.] If it's crippling and you're desperate for something, stop by and I can give you a little cone to breathe through. Plague doctor-style, but tiny. Cute. [Deadpan:] You'll look like little birds, and it'll smell like pine.
Couple things, just, quick.
Couldn't stick around the ferry and people's chief concern seems to have been food, which is fine, but I'm wondering if anyone got gardening supplies, and if those made it? I've mentioned it in passing to a handful, but especially given the exact worry I had was just proven right, no excuse to not be proactive anymore. We have good gardening types here, and it's better for the town as a whole if we can set a couple plots up...immediately? Fast as possible. A couple of small greenhouses are kind of a must at this point too. I'm not really up to building and clearing condition right now, so anybody brave enough to turn soil and move rocks and handle basic construction, drop me a line. People I talked to before, uh, the same I guess? We can divvy up who goes where, five people per square foot's a bad spread of resources.
Second thing - I'm getting the impression nobody's liking those flowers very much. [She's...largely unperturbed. Distressingly accustomed, at this point. Were the month not getting off on such a broken foot she'd be amused.] If it's crippling and you're desperate for something, stop by and I can give you a little cone to breathe through. Plague doctor-style, but tiny. Cute. [Deadpan:] You'll look like little birds, and it'll smell like pine.

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The door opens, slowly. Partially reluctance, partially because she dreads her useless arm being acknowledged. Her gaze is even.]
Hey.
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But now it can see her, and it feels even more like not seeing her had been awful, and it doesn't want to go back to not seeing her. So after a brief flash of surprise and hope, it carefully flattens its expression down again.]
Handler Misty.
[What does one say. What does one do. Fall back on routine from before the ferry incident? It tries that first, after probably too long of a pause.]
Is there anything I can help you with today?
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Garden setup. Not in any position to be doing it myself, today.
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[Relief. So much relief. Not just for a task (though that's pretty damn great, too), buy for a task from Misty. Maybe the punishment is over. Or dropped to a lower intensity, anyway, because she still looks frosty. It will take a lower intensity. It also takes the shovel.
Then it steps back. Waits. Looks at her feet, hopes she's coming out with it.]
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I will.
[With her coming with it, the Soldier can go around back to the plot of dirt. It's probably had a little instruction on this before the ferry incident, so at least it knows how to get started.
And at the risk of possibly bringing punishment down again by reminding her of said ferry incident, it still has to ask:]
Is it. Broken? Your arm.
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Yes. I won't be much use these next two or so weeks.
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I'm sorry.
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Why did you do it?
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[It doesn't look at her, focusing on the work, though its voice is subdued. She's not happy. She deserves to be angry at it, so it doesn't protest that. It doesn't even offer a real excuse, but it does say,]
I didn't actually think it would work. But I still had orders so I had to try.
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[Said delicately, but tightly.]
People could have died.
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[It pauses with the shovel half-in the ground, looking down. It regrets everything about this, except maybe that Crowley isn't a handler anymore, but a friend.]
I should have been more careful. Because I didn't think it would do anything, when it did something I didn't expect, I wasn't ready. Everyone who got hurt. That was my fault.
[It glances sidelong at her, not at her face, but her general direction.]
You're the only one who's bothered to punish me for it. I deserve worse.
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[An important question that she will follow with another important question, upon his answering. Though the latter gives her pause. Her brow creases.]
No it wasn't, and no you don't. I don't really know what your...everything is, but I don't get the impression you do what people say because you want to. You be mad at the person giving bad instruction, not the person who's got to follow them. I think you've gotten about all you had coming, from me. I'll walk the rest off.
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But.
[(Don't fucking protest not getting punished, dumbass.) But it still feels guilt. It's such a new feeling, so immediate, that it literally has no idea how to handle it except to accept punishment.]
I failed the mission and hurt people. Who I wasn't supposed to hurt.
[It'll deal with her handler-question in a minute. This is more important.]
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You're fine.
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[And it sounds a little miserable about that fact, now.]
Results matter more than intentions.
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Intentions are everything.
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I'm still sorry.
And you don't have to worry about conflicting orders. Crowley isn't my handler anymore. He requested it. Inspector Javert might, possibly, but I don't see him as often as I see you.
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[Correct, just quick enough to perhaps teeter toward harsh. Though she's quick to add,] And I appreciate it. Accept it.
He requested it?
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He was a terrible handler, Misty. Never even gave me anything halfway useful to do. Only got me into trouble. It's almost a relief.
[It doesn't occur to it that, with Crowley's example, she might well request it, too. She, after all, is a good handler.]
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Course he was, but it's always the worst ones that hang on the hardest.
Do you prefer that--?
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[The rote way it says that is almost amiable, though. Like it's making a little private joke out of it between them. It gets back to shoveling with a will, feeling a little better about life in general.]
Prefer what, though?
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Prefer him as a handler, or not as a handler? Are they something you would be happier without?
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No. The Asset needs handlers for instruction. Crowley was just a bad one.
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[It's an odd system, and operating without any context hardly helps. This is as much pure curiosity as it is examination meant to relate to them, personally.]
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