Getting the lay of the land

[meancuisine]

WHO: People!
WHERE: Various!
WHEN: First half of September
WHAT: Eliot gets his bearings
WARNINGS: Probably none



Option A - Maurtia Falls
[He's picked the bar carefully. Not one of the seediest but not exactly a tourist trap either. Somewhere that strikes a balance between not hearing anything interesting and not having anyone try to stab him. He sits at a table with his back to the wall and a good view, nursing a beer, not openly people-watching in any way that would piss someone off but just keeping an eye out and an ear out and making mental notes of anything that seems interesting. If he's going to get a foothold in the underbelly of this place he needs to know the lay of the land.]


Option B - Maurtia Falls Residence #008

[It takes a few days after he arrives before he heads to his assigned housing. He's not sure how long he'll stay there or if he will at all, but there's no reason not to at least check the place out. He knocks on the door first to see if anyone's home, in case his new roommates haven't been told there's a new arrival.]


Option C - Anywhere

[He might know there's no way he's swearing himself to this government, but they don't know that yet. Until then, he's going to take as much advantage of the "registered" shining from his wrist as he can, which means it's possible to run into him on the streets of any of the Porter cities. He's clearly new to the area from the way he looks around, committing as much to memory as he can manage. He's particularly interested in newspapers and bookstores, and finding places to linger nearby several conversations that would be everyday and boring if one weren't new to this universe.]

Comments

C

[fullmetalbrat]

[At one of these bookstores is a short young man who's working on filling a shopping basket to the brim with an assortment of texts on math and physics. Or rather, he was before a group of teenagers spotted him—fans of his "Chucky Kentucky" act. Now he's spent several minutes trapped at the end of an aisle signing autographs and assuring them he'll have another show soon. Finally, after a few excited selfies, he manages to break away from the cluster and turns to immediately rush down another aisle—and potentially right into Eliot if he doesn't move quickly enough.]

[meancuisine]

[It's hard not to notice the commotion, especially since it gives him flashbacks to that time he briefly had groupies. He's not quite expecting the kid to come barrelling down the aisle towards him but he reacts quickly, stepping aside and grabbing his arm in order to tug him down the aisle to another section]

C'mon, this way.

[fullmetalbrat]

What— [Ed only hesitates for a moment; long enough to give Eliot a quick look to size him up. No way this guy can be any worse than a bunch of fans getting in the way of one of his days off.

He follows along with the tug.]

Thanks, but who the hell are you?

B!

[carrieskryptonite]

[Eventually, Lex stands up from his chair at the dining room table to answer the door, leaving the collection of tools and electronic components there for now.

He's already made his imprint on the place, with assorted business journals and newspapers present on the coffee table in the living room. Small fragments of crystalline structures in various colors rest on top of the journals. Visibly precious, to someone with the eye for it.

So once he gets to the door and opens it, Lex can be seen in black trousers and a button up white collared shirt, sleeves rolled to the elbow, giving the stranger at the door a brief look over.]

Yes? May I help you?

[It might be too early to be punching people but Lex's tone isn't quite inviting it.]

[meancuisine]

[Eliot doesn't seem too bothered by the tone]

I'd say so. See, turns out I live here now.

[that sentence comes with a shrug and a smile that he hopes communicates bemusement with the government]

I'm Eliot.

[carrieskryptonite]

I see.

[On the one hand, it's something he understands is at least somewhat inevitable due to the design of the housing. On the other, he's still not pleased about having to share living quarters at all.

Not that he broadcasts this entirely; he does open the door wide enough that Eliot can choose to come in if he decides to. Rather than having to deal with the man asking and Lex having to do so afterwards.]

Lex.

Newly arrived?

C

[raw]

[ Elliot is doing exactly the same thing: checking out as much of the imPort cities as he can before the Swearing In means he loses that all-access pass. A lot of the time he's off in his own little world, but he does start to notice Eliot. In de Chima. In Mauritia Falls. A soda shop in Heropa. In the line for the Porter in Nonah. The guy isn't wearing a suit or clean-cut hair, but Elliot is paranoid enough that the next time he notices him he ducks away, dodges him like he's trying to lose a tail. Probably this means nothing to someone who isn't actually following him... that is, until the guy steps out of a bar right as he's walking past. Elliot stops, his heart suddenly crashing in his chest. ]

Hey. Are you following me, man?

[meancuisine]

[Eliot's not quite so paranoid as to think he's being followed, but he knows he's seen this guy around a few times by the time he's confronted by him. He stops and raises his hands innocently, not wanting trouble]

I ain't following you.

[He doesn't point out that that's exactly what he'd say if he was following the guy]

[raw]

[ With his black hoodie and crazy eyes Elliot probably looks vaguely threatening, in a punk kid kind of way, but he's also small. So it's dubious as to whether his angry tone is very effective. ]

Don't fuck with me. This isn't the first time I've noticed you.

A

[pummelgranite]

[ She's . . . trying to be subtle. Sort of. Less skulls and spiders and chainmail than she could have on, OK? And she seems to be looking around too, though she doesn't look up from her phone long to do so.


But damn if she isn't looking perfectly comfortable and confident- like she could not possibly have anything better to do than stand at a dive bar sipping gin and checking her email while dressed like she just walked out of a photo shoot. ]

[meancuisine]

[It doesn't take him long to notice he's not the only one people-watching. But he's not about to get up and bother a girl who looks perfectly happy and comfortable by herself. All he does is make sure their eyes meet next time she looks up and give her a friendly nod of acknowledgement]

[pummelgranite]

[ Well sure, if he'll smile, she'll smile back. Just because the goal is people watching doesn't mean that's all she's allowed to do. ]

C/B

[renamaer]

[Maybe a couple days after Eliot finally moves in, there's going to be another knock on the door. The girl looks a little flustered and apologetic. She's not technically a neighbor, but she visits her friends who live two and three doors down almost every day.

And since she's still mainly a visitor, well...]

Um. Excuse me? I'm so sorry to bother you, but do you think I could borrow...um. [Glancing down at the handwritten sheet of paper she's holding] turmeric powder? Or coconut milk?

[She's still not sure how her friend managed to use both of those ingredients up while making ostensibly attempting a fettucine alfredo, but that had been a really difficult meal to swallow.]

[meancuisine]

[He seems a little irritated to have to answer the door, but that melts away entirely as soon as she gets around to saying what it is she wants to borrow.]

Well, I can help you out with the turmeric. What are you looking to make?

[renamaer]

[Right, coconut milk was probably a more difficult ingredient to have on hand since it might go bad... Maybe she'd have to run to the store after all.] I found a recipe for curry that I wanted to try! I checked that we had all the ingredients early this week, but um...

[Someone decided to get a bit creative. She has to suppress a shudder at the memory.]

Oh! And I'm Estellise, by the way. Sorry for being rude. Are you new?

A. Maurtia Falls!

[jacksonian]

[ Mark walks in early in the evening. He's a strange sight: he looks a bit young for any bar, let alone this one; he's dressed like a local, some greaser kid, but he wears the clothes uncomfortably; he walks like he knows how to fight; he's four foot eight and fat. The bartender cards him, of course, which earns him a glower, but Mark gets his glass of wine (again, not exactly the typical drink for this clientele) and makes his angry, waddling way over to a table not too far from Eliot's.

He doesn't look over, aside from one quick suspicious scan of the man. ]

[meancuisine]

[That is definitely a combination that catches the attention. Once Mark seems settled in Eliot will shift a little closer, not enough to be obvious but hopefully close enough to overhear what this guy's about]

[jacksonian]

[ About ten minutes later, Mark's contact walks in. The person who's meeting him is large, burly, with lots of cuts on his hands, with a nose that looks like it's been broken a few times. He scans the room and - well, finds Mark quickly, because it certainly doesn't take much to pick Mark out of a crowd. He comes over and sits down at the table, offering a grunt of greeting. Mark clearly recognizes his contact as well, skipping all greetings to ask - ]

You have it on you?

[ The man grunts in assent. Then he says, "Price has gone up. Three hundred per ounce." Mark's face contorts in a scowl, and he bites back - ]

Like hell. We agreed on two-fifty.

[ Implacably, the man replies, "Which is why I said the price went up." ]

C, De Chima, canon TDM thread?

[protects_the_small]

[Kel has begun to investigate and enjoy the Farmer's Markets dotting De Chima. Being the de-facto grocery runner of the house for months had gotten her in the habit of searching out deals and the freshest produce, no matter WHAT Hawke says about greens.

Unfortunately, the sheer variety of what's available often stumps her, and she's standing in front of a stall of okra with a somewhat puzzled expression when she spots an almost familiar face]

Ah...it's you!

[Names, names...]

[meancuisine]

Eliot.

[He's holding a pod of it which he was in the process of carefully examining, suspicious of whether it's the same plant he's familiar with even in this crazy alternate world]

Gotta say I forgot your name too...

[protects_the_small]

Kel.

[Lowering her voice slightly, so the stall owner can't hear, she asks-]

It is cookable, right? They wouldn't sell it unless one could eat it in some way?

C

[keep_nothing]

[ Cordelia recognizes the look of casual concentration of his surroundings from what seems now like long experience from both her husband and her husband's spy master, paranoid bastards that they are. (The fact that said paranoia kept them and others alive on a planet that has a taste for its children is completely besides the point.)

... Or at least she would recognize that look if she herself looked up from reading on her tablet as she sits outside the popular coffee shop she frequents in Heropa. She does eventually feel his lingering presence despite the heavy patron traffic (the paranoia was a bit contagious, she has to admit), and she glances up in time to catch Eliot's eyes on the newspaper left on her table by someone else.

She reaches for it, holdibg it out for him. ]

You can take this if you want. It's probably a better prop to have and hide behind if you're trying to listen in on conversations.

[ She finishes that with a light smile with no apparent judgement behind it, just faint amusement. She tilts her head towards the couple near them, careful not to face or look at them directly herself, indicating that she caught him listening from her glance. ]

[meancuisine]

[For someone else he might put up a token objection to being caught red-handed but she gets a very genuine smile]

Thanks. If I'm honest, this might have better answers for me than they do.

[He nods at the paper]

Or you might.

B, after lex

[dnr]

[ It's an hour or two later when a big guy in a t-shirt and light jacket and at least two knives safely stowed on his person comes through the front door, heralded by the panting breaths of a grey and white pitbull. The dog barrels right in, tongue lolling and drool flying, and gives a low woof at the sight of a new face. Frank reaches to curl a hand around the dog's collar. ]

You a friend of Luthor's? [ he asks, in a tone that suggests he'd be surprised to find Lex voluntarily associates with anybody who doesn't wear suits every hour of the day. ]

[meancuisine]

[Now this instantly seems more like Eliot's kind of guy. Ex-military, not a suit in sight, likes dogs]

Are you kidding?

I got assigned here. I'm Eliot.