quixotically | thisavrou [inbox]

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[In between going back and forth from the prison station, retrieving supplies and going through decontamination procedures, Deacon finds time to write Elle a text.]

10 boxes of Fancy Lads in my mailbox. Save me from myself.

[Elle laughs when she sees the message.]

okay, I guess I can help you out :) Where should I meet you?

Observation deck. Bring an appetite and maybe RadAway.

On it :) :)

[And, true to her word, she'll truck it on over to the observation deck not long after sending this last text, dressed in the dirty pink wasteland dress she still has and the equally dirty hoodie pulled on over it. She does one better than just bringing RadAway, she brings her entire pack. She doesn't like going anywhere without it, okay? Old habits, etc.]

[It's good to see a familiar style. Deacon opted for black trousers, white shirt, and black vest this time, with no wig but the omnipresent sunglasses are firmly in place.]

Hey. Ready to indulge in an epic sugar high? I wasn't exaggerating when I said they left me ten boxes.

[Elle giggles.]

Good grief. That was nice of them, though. [Her hands have been in the hoodie pocket, and she pulls them out now.] They gave me my guns back, too, the ones the Ingress took. I guess they found them, or whatever.

Maybe they think I need to put on weight.

[If so, giving him Fancy Lads is definitely the way to do it.]

I came through fully armed, but the Ingress didn't like my shades. It has, like, no sense of style. I got three pairs in the mail later, though.

God, it was so annoying. They took my pistol and my rifle, but left me the ammo and my shotgun. And the ammo they did take was my twelve gauge. I had to contact the armory to see if they'd let me make my own just so I wouldn't be completely useless.

Wow. I wonder if the Ingress has an actual sense of humor? An evil sense of humor but...yeah. I wonder if it's sentient. Because that is an amazing practical joke.

[Elle's expression goes from well-humored to thoughtful, her head even tilting.] You know... I wonder, too. Like... It feels like, sometimes, the things it does can't just be a coincidence.

Ms Days. We should talk some time. Whenever you are free.

Edited 2016-05-03 22:44 (UTC)

Sure. As long as I'm not in a counseling session, I'm pretty much free. Do you wanna come by the Safe Space? Or do you wanna meet somewhere else?

I'll meet you in the Safe Space. What time would be good?

Ummm. How does early afternoon sound?

That would be excellent, thank you. I'll see you then.

[Sure enough, there's a knock on the door when early afternoon rolls around.]

Ms. Days?

Come on in.

[Elle is sitting on the floor when he comes in, surrounded by an eclectic collection of... stuff. From the looks of things, she's emptied out her backpack. There might be a few books from the library there among her mess, a couple of them are lying open. (That can't be good for their spines. But Elle doesn't know any better......) It's a sharp contrast to the nice white furniture and the clean lines of the Safe Space.

She's hopping to her feet to greet Nihlus, though, stepping over the items.] Hey!

[Having grown up in a place where paper material was relatively hard to come by, Nihlus doesn't know enough to try and save those poor books.]

You don't have to get up for me, [he says, peering around the door as the woman makes her way through the self-made maze of items. The items themselves garner a bit of a curious look.]

Reorganizing things?

Oh, it's okay. [She smiles sheepishly.] It, um... It's habit, I guess.

[She follows his gaze to the lovely little mess she's made, and her sheepishness only grows.] Kinda. I'm trying to take notes. I, um, I'm reading up on psychology and stuff. [Right this second, she's a little too embarrassed to admit she doesn't actually have any education on her job. She just kind of plunged right in without realizing how much she didn't know.]

Uh, d'you wanna have a seat? [She gestures over towards the office, since she's gone and cluttered up the lounge area.]

Only if you get a seat too, [Nihlus quips with a playful flick of his mandibles, stepping into the room proper and watching where he places his feet.]

Sounds like you've got your work cut out for you. [Honestly, Shepard wasn't qualified for engineering at all either. But, if nothing else, the Moira had some resources for people who wanted to learn new skills.]

How's the transition been going? Anything you need help with?

[It's hard not to be fascinated by the motion. She wonders what it means. She doesn't want... to be rude, though, and like, ask. So she stuffs her curiousity in a corner and leads the way into the office.]

Yeah, you could say that again. I mean, most of the time it really isn't that bad? There aren't that many people coming in, you know. But... There's a lot to learn. [A lot of stuff she never would've thought about. So much knowledge lost because of the Great War...]

I'm... doing okay, though, I think. But... I'm kind of nervous? It's... a lot of people to be responsible for.

I can imagine.

[A therapist with no formal training on a ship that desperately needed one? The pressure must be pretty high. Poor Elle.

Nihlus steps inside the office after her and draws one of the guest's seats back to make room for his long legs.]

I've had some experience with the field. Mostly informal. If you have anything you can't figure out, feel free to ping me. We can try and work it out.

[Spirits knows the texts Saren had given would've been easier to crunch through with some company.]

[Elle doesn't like sitting behind the desk. Doesn't like the symbol in it, as Ulysses would say. It's not like a dining table, it's more official than that. There's more of a social distance. There are days where she has to put up with it, because she's acting in a professional atmosphere, but today? Elle doesn't feel like dealing with it.

She takes the desk chair and pulls it out to the side, so she's sitting next to the desk, instead of behind it.

When Nihlus makes his offer, Elle's expression softens from attentive to genuinely, openly touched.] Thanks. I really... really appreciate it.

Hello, sugarplum. I need to ask you for that Ingress research if you still have it.

Because I think it's the best chance we got to make a good fix of this ship.

[... Elle would normally question "sugarplum," but the rest of the message is too important for her to waste time on that.]

You know... I think you're on to something. But, unfortunately, the information I got from the host's computer was just world data. I can send it your way anyway, just in case there's something useful there, but... I don't know for sure if it'll be any good.

I think I remember, though... There being someone on the network who said they had a journal? That belonged to the host? They couldn't understand it, though, something to do with the language. Um... Hang on, I'll look it up.

[A couple of moments later, Elle sends a second message, this one with a link attached.] I found it. You might wanna talk to them and the other people who helped them with it. That's probably gonna be waaaayy more useful than what I've got.

[A beat.] But... Um... If -- I don't know. If there's anything else I can do to help, even if it's just running errands or something -- Let me know. I'll do anything I can.

Well, unfortunately he's gone. So if you can figure out where he left that? I could use both.

OOC: Mun said it would be okay to find the journal.

[Damn. He seemed so nice...]

Alright. I can do that. [She has an entire ship that's melded together with another ship and half of everything is made of glass. Breathing glass on occasion is super fun, no, really. But it doesn't matter. Elle will just have to figure something out.]

I saw your friend in the same holding pen as me. I was sold before he was, though.

[He guesses she can find Boone through the MID, but he wants to assure her that he saw him intact.]

Oh, thank god.

Shit, that sounded -- No, I -- I mean -- I'm just --

I'm glad you're back. Are you okay?

Well enough to be mad.

[Not okay, but goal focused. Good enough for him.]

My possessions have some supplies if you can go after them for me.

[ It had taken him a few hours from the initial discovery until he'd actually texted her. At first, he didn't believe he'd found it. Figured it was just another in a long line of dead ends, but as he'd scanned through it he'd become more and more convinced that it was actually the real deal.

Then, he'd pulled up his MID and scrolled through until he found her name. ]

Elle, right? [ He really needed to get better about the whole name thing. ] I'm Dr. Adrien Arbuckal. We spoke some weeks ago about a journal?

Hey! Yeah, I'm Elle. I remember you. What's up?

I think I found it.

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