C is for cake!ooeeooahahJune 21 2011, 19:19:48 UTC
Hi! I thought I'd stop by with a housewarming gift!
[ Since it was just across the street, Ilsa didn't wrap the cake in newspaper, just foil. The still-warm cake has the scent of chocolate, cinnamon and... a touch of chili? Maybe rum? Da'ell? ]
And it is not a lie!viridian_knightJune 24 2011, 16:57:00 UTC
[Hal can't recall the last time anyone's brought him so much as a cookie. His gaze drops to the package in her hands, his nose practically quivering. Is that...?]
This is...quite a surprise, thank you. [And it's still warm, hng. Hal nudges the door open further with his heel, canting his head.]
Want to come in? I've got a pot of coffee on. Creepy drones are out shopping, [he adds, recalling her discomfort last time they were in the house. Not that he can blame her.]
Well, all right - if you don't mind. [ Ilsa follows him to the kitchen. ]
I'm getting used to them, but it's still hard for me to work around... [ She makes a small hand gesture, indicating the outdated and erroneous sociological structure the drones enforce ] things.
If you play your role around them, it's easier to get them to cooperate with your plans, but I get nervous when it gets too easy to do that. [ She shrugs, a shadow dimming her smile a moment. ] It either means I'm playing into their hands, or I'm getting better at manipulating them. Neither option is comfortable for me.
[ Then she brightens again. ] How have you been settling in?
[Cards rest on the kitchen table, a centerpiece of construction paper rectangles. Pink and purple crayon decorates one with a child's untidy scrawl in a cute, if brief 'Happy Father's Day, Daddy!'. The other, half-jammed back into its envelope, bears a chillingly perfect script that opens with a rather ominous 'To My Dearest Husband'.]
Believe me, I know how you feel. Are they all passive-aggressive naggers, or did I just get lucky?
[Her next question gave him pause, between setting out a carton of milk and two spoons to join the sugar dish already on the table. He's not the classiest of hosts, but he makes the effort. Mugs in hand, he fills each from the shiny chrome percolator on the stove, offering her one.] To be honest, I feel like I'm still waiting to wake up.
Most of the time, passive aggressive techniques are the default. One of my great-grandmothers was a past master of the art, so I'm not quite so bothered by it.
[ She nods at the "waiting to wake up" bit. ] It took me a little bit to calm down and take a look around. Right now, I've been looking through the library, and trying to pin down the books and references that I know should be there, then trying to dredge up what in those things might be a point of information we can use to get out.
[ She frowns into the coffee cup, ] Only thing I've found so far is they've taken that weird practice during the Cold War where anything Russian was suspect, and blown it out of proportion. Even down to the cookbooks - Russian Tea is renamed to Spice Tea and such.
[His coffee is treated to milk, tapping his spoon against the mug's rim.] The Red Scare. My folks were too young to remember, but I heard a little of it from Granddad and some of the veterans. McCarthy worked people into a frenzy.
[Hal's tone is wry.] We couldn't have ended up in the seventies, could we? The worst thing that happened then was disco.
Atlanta, just finished medical school. Until I run into someone I know, it's kinda hard to track if it's the same one other people might know.
[ Listening to her accent, it wanders a little, as she names off the places she's lived. ]
Before that, I spent some time in San Antonio. Grew up in Nashville. Did a fair bit of travelling, considering that there's dozens of cousins, and they generally get stationed in interesting places.
Ilsa! How are you?
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[ Since it was just across the street, Ilsa didn't wrap the cake in newspaper, just foil. The still-warm cake has the scent of chocolate, cinnamon and... a touch of chili? Maybe rum? Da'ell? ]
One of my family's recipes.
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This is...quite a surprise, thank you. [And it's still warm, hng. Hal nudges the door open further with his heel, canting his head.]
Want to come in? I've got a pot of coffee on. Creepy drones are out shopping, [he adds, recalling her discomfort last time they were in the house. Not that he can blame her.]
(ooc: augh, sorry that took ages :|)
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I'm getting used to them, but it's still hard for me to work around... [ She makes a small hand gesture, indicating the outdated and erroneous sociological structure the drones enforce ] things.
If you play your role around them, it's easier to get them to cooperate with your plans, but I get nervous when it gets too easy to do that. [ She shrugs, a shadow dimming her smile a moment. ] It either means I'm playing into their hands, or I'm getting better at manipulating them. Neither option is comfortable for me.
[ Then she brightens again. ] How have you been settling in?
Reply
Believe me, I know how you feel. Are they all passive-aggressive naggers, or did I just get lucky?
[Her next question gave him pause, between setting out a carton of milk and two spoons to join the sugar dish already on the table. He's not the classiest of hosts, but he makes the effort. Mugs in hand, he fills each from the shiny chrome percolator on the stove, offering her one.] To be honest, I feel like I'm still waiting to wake up.
Reply
[ She nods at the "waiting to wake up" bit. ] It took me a little bit to calm down and take a look around. Right now, I've been looking through the library, and trying to pin down the books and references that I know should be there, then trying to dredge up what in those things might be a point of information we can use to get out.
[ She frowns into the coffee cup, ] Only thing I've found so far is they've taken that weird practice during the Cold War where anything Russian was suspect, and blown it out of proportion. Even down to the cookbooks - Russian Tea is renamed to Spice Tea and such.
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[Hal's tone is wry.] We couldn't have ended up in the seventies, could we? The worst thing that happened then was disco.
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Yeah, well - disco and the associated symptoms. Every era has their problems, though.
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True enough. I forgot about leisure suits and bell bottoms.
So tell me... [Settling back in his chair, he considers his words, sipping at his coffee.]
Where were you before coming here? I know we didn't have much time for neighborly chatting last time.
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[ Listening to her accent, it wanders a little, as she names off the places she's lived. ]
Before that, I spent some time in San Antonio. Grew up in Nashville. Did a fair bit of travelling, considering that there's dozens of cousins, and they generally get stationed in interesting places.
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Understandable. What was your chosen field?
['Stationed'? His ears prick up, unable to hide his interest. Hal holds his mug in both hands, leaning forward again.]
You have family in the military?
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[ She smiles, remembering how the kids raised on military bases operate. First make sure who they were, ten find out what games they knew. ]
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