OPERATION: YOUTHFUL DISOBEDIENCE

[stresstokens]

WHO: Members of the grand curfew-breaking plan!
WHEN: During the Moorecroft event.
WHERE: Various Moorecroft locales.
WHAT: A bunch of youths have gotten together to break curfew in tandem to get to the bottom of the mystery at heart of this place -- but what they find leads to more questions than answers.
NOTES\WARNINGS: Probable violence, death, emotional trauma, cursing. All the fun stuff! I'll be putting the log headers for pre/during/post-curfew breaking logs in the comments, so just hang tight while I do that, though all members are of course more than welcome to post their own logs if that suits their tagging style better.

Comments

[equivo]

[ He's startled by the appreciation, even if it doesn't show in anything as blatant as a turned head or widened eyes. It's just a short pause at the top of an inhale, followed by a nod. ]

Yeah. Sure.

[ Me too, almost. It doesn't matter if he says it. She'll get it, one way or another. She's one of the few people who can, and isn't that the kicker?

So he nurses his coffee for a few minutes as it cools to tolerably drinkable, most of his tastebuds left shocked into insensibility for the time being. The ambient noises of the town pass over them uninterrupted. Cars cruising down the roads, the distant whisper of sprinklers, a lawnmower purring as it's walked back and forth across a square patch of uniform grass.

And here they are, floating at the edge of that false normality. It could be a lot of places. A lot of times. When he's not looking at her, she could be a lot of people. ]

...nice day out.

[thinkerseven]

[ She doesn't get it instantly. But the fact that Krouse could use the quiet trickles in as minutes pass, her powers drip-feeding her signs that all point to the same place. He doesn't hate this interaction as much as he's despised their other ones. It's almost nice to get the positive reinforcement. As Krouse listens to his surroundings, Lisa takes that in, quietly grateful that her powers aren't being the worst, for once.

She knows he's going to speak up a fraction of a second before he does it. It's still annoying when it happens. What kind of response does he expect? The second Lisa speaks, the illusion that it's anyone else standing adjacent to him will shatter. She can't be a stand-in for a teammate once she opens her mouth.

The scar that runs up her cheek doesn't hurt anymore. She still thinks about its message from time to time, a reminder that everyone would prefer it if she just shut the fuck up every time she looks in the mirror. A reminder that people need her talking, because how else would anything get done?

She's quiet for precisely the amount of time she has before it'll start pissing Trickster off, and no longer. ]

Yeah. It's always a nice day here.

[ That's kind of the point. Lisa doesn't sound especially excited about it, but she doesn't sound bitter, either. She wouldn't let Trickster hear that. But she does allow herself a touch of wistfulness. ]

[equivo]

[ One of the problems with being perpetually pissed off with someone is that it becomes a baseline expectation, and anything that becomes a baseline expectation becomes normal, and anything that becomes normal becomes something a person gets used to.

She'd be thrilled to know how often she crops up in his thoughts, his would-be - whatever it is she wants to be. Not an archnemesis, that's clear. Pain in the ass doesn't cover it either. Threat is too nebulous. A factor in his decision making. Whether she's physically hovering over his shoulder or not, she's there, and like a tree root growing around a skeleton, he's adjusted to her presence.

All of that to recognize that her dramatically stretched out pause is irritating, but not enough to really care about it. It could be worse. ]

TV weather.

[ His next sip of coffee comes with a wash of grit at the bottom. He rubs it against the roof of his mouth, tiny particles dissolving with friction. ]

You know. It never rains unless something dramatic is happened. Snows once a year for the holiday special. No drizzle, no slush, no overcasts.

Riz has a theory we're on a reality show. I don't think it's a serious one, but you never know. This could be going out to a live studio audience.

[thinkerseven]

[ That gets a laugh out of Lisa. It's not one he's heard before. It's not the laugh reserved for people long gone, but it's not the one she uses when she puts on a show, either. It's something in-between, still smug, but just a touch more genuine. ]

Once again, Riz is onto something. I pitched that to a guy on the network when I first got here, but he didn't believe me. [ Lisa shakes her head. ] Oh, well. Most people are morons.

[ When she talks about Riz, that genuineness doesn't go away. Whatever Trickster believes about her shriveled-up heart, she seems to at least have a passing fondness for that weird little goblin. ]

I think it feels that way on purpose. I mean, Echo's evaluating us. And who knows how many people Echo really is? With something so supposedly all-powerful, I bet personhood is a complicated concept for them.

[equivo]

[ He resents, on a general level, any time Lisa sounds less like a construct built in a lab to get under his skin and more like someone he could hold a conversation with for more than five minutes without wanting to strangle her.

It reminds him of before the division built up past salvaging, when he had no idea - and he should have fucking known - that the Undersiders were going to be the end of his small, fragile world. Lisa had a certain je ne sai fuck you he had thought he could respect, in a way. She seemed to know how much it was all a sort of sick joke. Just like she sounds now.

He's thinking of her as Lisa. It's not even her real goddamn name either. ]

You might be right.

[ That's more than he'd usually give, even if might is less than she probably feels entitled to. He rotates the cup in his hands, studying it with renewed intensity. ]

I've been thinking it could be something like the parasites. You know. The alien brain worms we evidently have. Amy gave me the crash course.

So if it is, hey. We're ahead of the curve. Our whole fucking lives were already reality TV for aliens.