( there were some things about this place that, if she honestly had to be kidnapped (again) that weren't too bad. there were other things that were ultimately grating. one of the biggest ones was the fact that she had to live with other people. a shared space. she may have had her own room but-- communal living? ugh.
it leads to her one day when they all happen to be in the kitchen, philippa casually turning a knife over in her hand, to saying something about it )
They may have placed us all here. ( continues casually turning it over, paying more attention to it than the people she's talking to ) But it needs to change.
( look, y'all just need to stop getting in her space )
[Shiro takes another swig of his coffee and shows no signs of moving away from the kitchen counter. The robotic Lion that's never far from him is settled at his side like a guard dog. If he's bothered by her fascination with the knife it doesn't show on his face.]
It will, but it's going to take a little time. None of us have the funds for it right now. Until then, we could discuss ways to make this situation more bearable for all of us.
[He sets his mug down and wraps his hands around it. The warmth seeps into his hands and he looks up at her.]
We could share our schedules. Mark out days for who cleans, cooks, or just has certain spaces for certain times. It depends on what all of you want to do. I'm pretty flexible.
No, but it's a start. We can build on what works for our group from there. [They have to live together, might as well do so as painlessly as possible.]
And freely do away with what doesn't. Sound reasonable to you?
[He visibly considers that and takes out his phone, swiping it expertly across the screen.] They have me on 9 am to 5 pm shifts the whole week with weekends off. I don’t intend to really be around on weekends either.
At best you’ll have to deal with me being around in the late evenings. [Shiro glances thoughtfully down at the robotic lion at his side. The beast turns its head towards her.] But I won’t always take Black here with me. Especially if we feel the house needs defended. We’re psychically linked. If trouble happens, Black can tell me and I’ll make my way back.
Black? [It makes sense to assume that’s what she means. It is the unusual thing in the room other than themselves.] Black is a sentient warship. But when we were pulled here it was reduced in size and power.
I don’t know why. Their systems are all fine. Everything is functional except for special weaponry. Could be the nanites disabled it. Could be the crossing. They’re not coming on any time soon.
[He raises both eyebrows and looks at Black as the Lion casts a glance back at him.] No. I mean they're a living machine, period.
As alive as we are. Their thoughts are just in images and impressions telepathically related to who they choose as a pilot. They won't talk to anyone else.
[It's kind of snobbish if he thinks about it like that. He alters his thought to 'specific' when Black shoves its shoulder into his leg in an obvious reprimand.]
I have seen what sentient technology can do to a galaxy.
( or has at least heard about it, seen the destruction on a smaller scale and risked her life to stop it. one of those things she would never have thought possible at one point but she was a survivor )
Every time I've needed help Black has been there to protect me. They're as much my friend as anyone else. I trust them with my life and more.
[He glances down at the beast then back at her, his expression sliding from neutral calm to carefully diplomatic thoughtfulness. He sets the mug aside and lays both hands flat on the table.
A show that he has no intention of being hostile in any way.]
But I get if you won't trust them. You don't know or have reason to trust the Lions or their pilots. If you'd rather Keith and I keep our Lions at our sides at all times and out of your space, I'll let him know. At present, I can't expedite finding a different place to live, but when I can I will.
[It's not the first time Keith's wound up swept into something he hadn't been expecting and thrown in with people he barely knows. The first time had been Voltron, and that had turned out.
He's watching her turn that knife over in her hands, considers drawing his own. But he doesn't and instead.]
Not used to roommates?
[Keith nods.] It definitely takes some getting used to. [To put it mildly.] But we're all adults. We can figure ways to coexist, until we're able to move on.
( she hadn't done too awfully so far, managing to get around the cities, find places that are acceptable, eat, drink. etc. but there are some things that are foreign to her, buildings that either didn't exist in her universe or even just the simpler items.
she's figured out the coffee at a cafe, going for something plain and bitter but acceptable, though her eyes keep drifting back between the menu and some of the food items on display. either it's how they're described or how they look but-- she looks puzzled )
[ Cafes are Rogue's natural habitant on this Earth. She visits at least two every day, both frequenting her favorites as well as trying new locations whenever she comes across them. Trying everything on every menu is a personal goal, because why not. So she accepts the honey caramel latte from the barista and turns to find a seat in the busy cafe... only to notice the woman looking at the counter area as if she didn't quite understand it.
Another imPort, probably. Approaching the table with a smile, she gestures at the empty seat. ]
[ Ah, so she's one of those types. That's fine, Rogue can work with that. ]
Thank you.
[ Sitting, she takes a moment to tentatively sip at the drink she'd ordered. It's not bad, but it pales in comparison to the mochas she tends to indulge in. Her tone is casual and at ease when she speaks again, no motive other than curiosity in her expression. ]
You're a new arrival, aren't you? From somewhere pretty different from this.
Don't know, I'm not a mindreader. But the way you're looking at things, something about this place isn't normal for you, meaning you're an imPort from a world not like this Earth.
[ Rogue gives a nonchalant shrug and takes another sip of her drink. ]
I'm just making an observation, not demanding your life story.
[Once she's taken a couple days to settle in and she's on her shtick with her newly assigned job (which, admittedly, isn't too different than her old job, reporting is reporting, even if the content is different), she's had to scope out where the best cafes are. This one had the best bagels she's been able to find so far.
She spots a woman looking a little confused and she just can't help herself, she leans over in a nearly conspiratorial manner and stage-whispers: ]
They look ugly, but they taste amazing. The ham and cheese croissant is to die for.
( this woman certainly isn't the first person to have approached her but it doesn't make her presence any more willing than the last person that philippa had sent away. she gets that someone is possibly trying to help but when it plays on something she isn't certain about-- )
What kind of combination would you rather have? [She seems completely unphased by the obvious standoffishness in the other woman. Rebecca Atherton has certainly dealt with worse.]
Okay, I'll give you that. I've eaten things people here would probably squick at. But-- okay. So what kind of stuff do you like? Maybe I can help you find an equivalent here? [Or maybe the woman doesn't even want her to fuss her about it. Whatever. No one's forcing her into this conversation, if she really wanted Becks to go away, she figures she'd tell her as much. She doesn't strike Becks as the type to mince words too much.]
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► SPACEMATES
it leads to her one day when they all happen to be in the kitchen, philippa casually turning a knife over in her hand, to saying something about it )
They may have placed us all here. ( continues casually turning it over, paying more attention to it than the people she's talking to ) But it needs to change.
( look, y'all just need to stop getting in her space )
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It will, but it's going to take a little time. None of us have the funds for it right now. Until then, we could discuss ways to make this situation more bearable for all of us.
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More bearable. And how will you do that?
( she was definitely used to a very different way of life )
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We could share our schedules. Mark out days for who cleans, cooks, or just has certain spaces for certain times. It depends on what all of you want to do. I'm pretty flexible.
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And you think a schedule is a complete solution?
( it wasn't a bad one if she stopped being picky. but she was also figuring him out a little bit )
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And freely do away with what doesn't. Sound reasonable to you?
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That depends on what your schedule will offer.
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At best you’ll have to deal with me being around in the late evenings. [Shiro glances thoughtfully down at the robotic lion at his side. The beast turns its head towards her.] But I won’t always take Black here with me. Especially if we feel the house needs defended. We’re psychically linked. If trouble happens, Black can tell me and I’ll make my way back.
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( and potentially all through the night. she's a bartender, it's a late night thing but it suits her very nicely )
What is that?
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I don’t know why. Their systems are all fine. Everything is functional except for special weaponry. Could be the nanites disabled it. Could be the crossing. They’re not coming on any time soon.
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( she's going to point her knife at it, distaste in her voice )
You have an AI?
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As alive as we are. Their thoughts are just in images and impressions telepathically related to who they choose as a pilot. They won't talk to anyone else.
[It's kind of snobbish if he thinks about it like that. He alters his thought to 'specific' when Black shoves its shoulder into his leg in an obvious reprimand.]
Is this going to be an issue?
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( or has at least heard about it, seen the destruction on a smaller scale and risked her life to stop it. one of those things she would never have thought possible at one point but she was a survivor )
So how trusted is it?
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[He glances down at the beast then back at her, his expression sliding from neutral calm to carefully diplomatic thoughtfulness. He sets the mug aside and lays both hands flat on the table.
A show that he has no intention of being hostile in any way.]
But I get if you won't trust them. You don't know or have reason to trust the Lions or their pilots. If you'd rather Keith and I keep our Lions at our sides at all times and out of your space, I'll let him know. At present, I can't expedite finding a different place to live, but when I can I will.
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He's watching her turn that knife over in her hands, considers drawing his own. But he doesn't and instead.]
Not used to roommates?
[Keith nods.] It definitely takes some getting used to. [To put it mildly.] But we're all adults. We can figure ways to coexist, until we're able to move on.
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( she turns her knife over again, just looking at him )
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[Step one. This is one that he's still struggling with given that by nature he's a taciturn loner.]
And figuring each other out, at least a little. And how to respect each other's space.
[He shrugs.] At least we've got more room than some of the Blade ships and bases I've been on.
► A CAFE
she's figured out the coffee at a cafe, going for something plain and bitter but acceptable, though her eyes keep drifting back between the menu and some of the food items on display. either it's how they're described or how they look but-- she looks puzzled )
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Another imPort, probably. Approaching the table with a smile, she gestures at the empty seat. ]
Do you mind if I join you, sugar?
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yeah, there wasn't really anywhere else for the woman to sit )
I suppose so.
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Thank you.
[ Sitting, she takes a moment to tentatively sip at the drink she'd ordered. It's not bad, but it pales in comparison to the mochas she tends to indulge in. Her tone is casual and at ease when she speaks again, no motive other than curiosity in her expression. ]
You're a new arrival, aren't you? From somewhere pretty different from this.
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( she'd not going to give anything away herself. she might not be starfleet but she's still secretive )
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[ Rogue gives a nonchalant shrug and takes another sip of her drink. ]
I'm just making an observation, not demanding your life story.
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She spots a woman looking a little confused and she just can't help herself, she leans over in a nearly conspiratorial manner and stage-whispers: ]
They look ugly, but they taste amazing. The ham and cheese croissant is to die for.
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That sounds like an unpleasant combination.
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( at least not a combination, particularly when she couldn't quite figure out some of the plainer varieties )
I prefer something simpler.
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( she's at least from a different world, they can all accept that without even getting into the different times )
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