maskormenacelogs | this is what happens when you can't people

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this is what happens when you can't people

WHO: Kristoff Bjorgman and Karen Starr
WHERE: Somewhere in the Rocky Mountains
WHEN: Wednesday, May 7th
WHAT:Karen's not putting up with Kristoff's life as a mountain man.
WARNINGS: nah we're probably okay

Kristoff had gotten off of the phone with Karen with a good amount of his skepticism still intact, and then he'd gone on about his business. The weather where he currently found himself was decent and cool, a far cry from what he'd left behind in Florida, and he'd more or less decided to remain in this particular area. It had everything he needed nearby: an amount of woodland, a good water source, some decent climbing, and a pretty ideal amount of isolation.

At this particular moment, he was tending to supper, sitting cross-legged in front of a small fire with several small fish set up to cook above it. He didn't put a whole lot of care into cooking, and fish wasn't difficult fare, so he was looking silently into the sky when he thought he might have heard something.

It could've been almost anything, so, while he does pause to look around his immediate area, he soon gave it up. With a shrug, he turned his fish over and returned his gaze upward, watching dusk run its course and the stars settle in.

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The change in direction is a little nerve-wracking. Every little turn is probably going to be like that. He'll just have to deal, focus on the conversation instead.

He'd been speaking about people, and changing, so... He isn't sure if she's talking about that or about what he did in his day-to-day, his job. That's the easier option, though. The other one involves more of an explanation, and he'd rather keep it simple.

"I harvest ice. Or... harvested, I guess. Um. We didn't have refrigerators, you know, so I cut blocks of ice from lakes in the mountains."

"Couldn't have been an easy job," she muses aloud. Sure, Kristoff's a big guy, but who knows how long it takes to break the ice apart, load it, and then carry it wherever it's got to be delivered.

Unless he works with several others, but it's obvious Kristoff's not much a team player.

Kristoff shrugs at that as best he can in his current position. He wouldn't call it easy, no, but it was gratifying in its own way. It gave him plenty to do and to think about.

"It's hard work," he answers plainly. "I like it, though. It kept me busy and helped me stand on my own. I had my own sled and everything, and a spot in the square where I could set up to sell. It wasn't much, but it was mine, you know?"

"Okay, so you value independence; I'll give you that. Before here and well, the other universe, I had my own business and place, too."

She's had to pull countless hours at work just to scrounge enough money to put aside. She's determined to set up a small business of her own, seeing as how this world is also the perfect place to set up an R&D firm similar to Starrware back home. However, the amount of times trouble has cut into work hours and pulled her from the desk has set her back.

But she won't tell Kristoff she could be working right now. It blows, but in the end, she has to prioritize the safety of others over her own ambitions sometimes.

The joys of being a superheroine with too much on her plate.

"Tell you what: when we get back, I will help you look for your own apartment. If you want to be your own boss, I can help with that, too."

Kristoff isn’t sure what to think about the offer for a good moment. He processes the pros and cons with a small frown in place. While he did value his space, being alone in the city and being alone in the wilderness were two different beasts, and he couldn’t imagine being able to afford that sort of thing. Even by his own world’s standards, he’s uneducated, but he’d been able to make his way with skilled labor. Here, his specialties didn’t count for anything, and his education was even more lacking against the plethora of knowledge and skills that modern people seem to possess.

He wouldn’t mind feeling less adrift, though, even if it took some trying. If he’s got to stay here, maybe it was best to just own what he could of it. He figures, then, that Karen’s suggestions are reasonable, it’s just a matter of getting there.

“That’s… I could try that,” he answered, even if uncertainty lingered in his voice. “I don’t know what I could do, though. The world’s different, here.”

"You could have been learning it rather than shutting it all away." She's trying not to patronize him, but the phrasing is still a little aloof. Peej shakes her head before training her eyes on the commercial flight in the distance. No, it doesn't look like she'll have to adjust their direction to avoid it.

"I figure it's an entirely different time and world, but the fact is you're here now. You've got to try and make something of it."

"I learned about the Zamboni machine," he offers in his defense, maybe with a bit more pout than necessary. Kristoff's not used to any form of lecturing, especially when he has to acknowledge the merit of an opposing point, no matter how well-meaning.

"I'm not sure if that's any good, now. I kinda ditched the job."

A Zamboni isn't a bad place to start, but "kinda ditched" means he's been fired and she doubts they'll hire him back, imPort or not. That kind of attitude leaves a bad taste in any employer's mouth.

"Are you registered?" She rolls her eyes a bit, out of annoyance with herself to actually resort to that idea. "They can help find you a job if you're having difficulty. Wouldn't they cover training expenses as well?"

"I'm not," he answers, shaking his head. His tattoo reads 'UNSETTLED,' which seems fitting enough even if it's not helpful to his current situation. He gives it a moment of thought before shrugging. "It doesn't matter. I'll just... I'll find something simple, and I'll go from there."

That somehow surprises her.

"Why not?"

Most people she's spoken to so far seem pro-registration. While Kristoff has a tendency to go against the grain it appears, she wonders what his feelings are regarding the government's stance on registration.

"And it's not a bad idea. Not much in life comes easy."

"I don't like... I don't belong to anybody, and I don't want to swear to something that I don't get, without knowing everything that it's gonna entail, you know?"

Swearing loyalty to a military power seemed like risky business, especially if one's unfamiliar with the government and their policies. Any viewpoints that the United States might have held weren't necessarily Kristoff's own, and it wasn't his place to potentially fight for something he didn't fully embrace.

But... 'Not much in life comes easy.' At that, he snorts. It isn't dismissive, just... "Yeah. I know that. Seems like it's true whenever you're from."

"My life's been pretty complicated from day one, to be honest." She laughs quietly, though there's traces of mild exasperation in there as well. Last daughter of the multiverse sent from a dying planet to find family, only to lose them and her universe, and then her own origins for a long time.

She wonders what Kristoff's life is like back home.

"Don't sweat it about registration then; I'm not keen on it either. It's bad enough they branded us."

Kristoff's glad that she said something that allowed the subject to drop more easily. Getting into a conversation about life's hardship's wasn't exactly something he was keen on doing, whether she'd also had a rough time or not. Besides, maybe they didn't match very well. Day one had been fine, so far as he knew, and most of his rough patches were only things that lingered on the edge of his memory. They were done, and it was fine.

He looks down at his wrist again, rubs his thumb over where he knows the tattoo is. Branded. Right.

"Yeah. These people are strange."

"I don't think 'strange' covers it anymore."

It's straight up sketchy to Peej, but it's difficult to snoop around government and military offices without getting caught. She may not care about being Unsettled, but she sure as hell cares about being branded a criminal.

"We're going to speed up a bit," she suddenly adds and Kristoff will feel a slight boost in their speed. Hopefully his stomach can handle it.

He doesn't have much else to say about the people who brought them here. She's right. 'Strange' isn't heavy enough, but he can't find exactly the right word for what's going on. Luckily, he's not paid to know great, descriptive words, so he can easily leave it at that.

He nods when she says they're going to speed up, and tried to brace himself. Still, it's unpleasant. He breaths deep and swallows a few times, managing to hang on to his lunch. He'd done alright on the jet. He can get used to this. That, or he can definitely avoid flying from now on. That seems pretty reasonable.

All he has to do is not lose it until Florida. No big deal.

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this is what happens when you can't people

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