station72 | CASH ME OUSSIDE

Entry tags:

CASH ME OUSSIDE

CHARACTERS: Seviilia and YOU
WHERE: Anywhere!
WHEN: DAY 005 and Onward
SUMMARY: Downtime related things! Feel free to hit me at

stabs if you want something specific
WARNINGS: None...yet.

CARDS AGAINST THE LIVING

[Most of the recreational wing had been lost on Seviilia. Many of the games and other assorted means of entertainment were entirely foreign to her, and she was too proud to bother seeking out instructions on how to play things properly. Exploring was enough to keep her mind off other things she was meant to be doing -- things she couldn't be doing while surrounded by the Nest.

She's dressed in half of her armory today -- the strong shoulder-pieces and arm-guards have been abandoned, leaving her her heavy armored dress and boots beneath. In spite of how it drags, she seems comfortable enough. Maybe it just comes with the territory of being undead.

The deck of cards was less vexing -- she'd seen enough games in bars to understand their general function, even if she didn't possess knowledge of how to play anything other than fantasy poker (and most her knowledge on that was purely based on intimidation and no real knowledge on how to actually play). At any given point in the evening, she can be found stacking them in a pyramid on a table. In fact, she gets rather intricate with her sculptures -- not anything particularly artistic, just simple structures that hint at her mechanical attempts to keep herself occupied, rather than an attempt to express herself in art.

Maybe you're interested in helping. Maybe you want to interrupt. Maybe you want to knock it down -- but that's a very bad idea.]

WHATCHA LOOKIN' AT?

[Seviilia's quarters are most unlike the rest of the station's living spaces. After a few days of having to adapt to its host, a small condensed fog seems to leak out of the front of it -- not exactly inviting, as the temperature drops noticeably the closer someone gets. The temperature difference means she spends a lot of time inside, and she can be found there at almost any given moment of any day.

The recreation room might have vexed her for the most part, but books were familiar to anyone, particularly the physical kind -- the digital was left behind for more technologically advanced users. Finding a book that she was able to read was challenging and frustrating -- even English, which seemed to be the closest thing to Common she could find managed to vex her. Perhaps that's why she has hardly progressed through what appears to be a fantasy romance novel. Her fluency in Common was not all that strong to begin with, and it was fortunate enough that the symbiote allowed her to adapt as much as she had. It was its presence as much as her stubborn force of will that kept her going.

She lounges on the only furniture in the room in a temperature that few would find comfortable -- its easily approaching below freezing. Seviilia herself wears a loose white shirt worn through in several areas to leave the glowing blue rune circuit on her skin in plain sight, joined by a pair of dark blue slacks in similar condition.

Any time a lifeform lingers near the doorway, she can be counted on to lower her reading material to address them.]

Sinu a'manore.

[Well met. The meaning comes across, even if her words might have sounded strange to hear at first. Her voice echoes in a manner that is most unwelcoming, but given the fact that she rests the book down in favor of standing to invite her guest in, she's not entirely opposed to company.]

WILDCARD

[ooc: As always, feel free to set something up yourself!]

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Shiro.

[The name flows pleasantly off her tongue, and she seems pleased by it -- as she had been with Misato's name. Some syllables were simply easier, when you were raised on Thalassian.]

Then you may call me Seviilia. Titles appear to be in short supply on this Station.

[The Darkling and Commander Shepard had been the only ones who cared to offer one. She's fine with that for the present.]

I am unaccustomed to free time, I'm afraid.

[As if the armor wasn't hint enough.]

Seviilia. Nice to meet you.

[He'd offer up a hand, but. Hey. They're busy hanging out in his pockets right now. Maybe he shouldn't judge by armor. Maybe she'd be fine with metal fingers and alien design.]

[Maybe later.]

There's a few. I hear there's someone calling himself The Prince here. Are titles more common where you're from?

[Then he's shaking his head. Amusement in his next words, even if it's depreciating.]

That makes two of us. I don't know what to do besides weights, half the time.

I have met him.

[She appears charmed by his admission, and returns to her task of stacking cards as she answers his questions.]

Quite common. Monarchy is still a common practice, and almost everyone is involved in the war in recent times. Even if the title is not particularly prestigious, almost everyone has one of some sort.

["Deathlord" won't mean anything to him. It hadn't meant anything to anyone else.]

A living body requires conditioning and upkeep. It is a good use of your time.

Have you? Can I ask what he's like?

[He's met Cathaway. She was -- they? -- interesting. Helpful, but interesting. Is that what happens to people who stay here this long? They start feeling disconnected?]

I know a couple back home who have titles like that -- monarchy, I mean. Other planets have them more often, too.

[Allura for sure, though he's got no idea if the same applies to Coran.]

Thanks. I'll tell everyone who says to sit down and rest I got the go-ahead to not. [It's a joke. But he's always had a lame sense of humor.]

Most unlike the creature that calls itself Cathaway. Taciturn. Closed off.

[She didn't necessarily pick up on his thought process, more that it was easiest to talk about them in pairs, since they both appeared to be in charge. His joke, however bad it might have been, pulls a wry smile from her.]

Didn't get anything good out of him, huh?

[That's what he assumes the statement means. She's free to correct him, though.]

[And wow, he appreciates that smile -- no one ever thinks his stupid jokes are funny -- letting a flicker of that feeling out from under mental walls.]

Not particularly. Cathaway was more helpful.

[She respects Prince's position, even if she disagrees with the distance she had felt from him. She won't bother to correct his delight -- everyone blamed everything on her for years. What's one more thing?

Instead, Seviilia passes Shiro a stack of cards before returning to her build. He can take that as an invitation to help her, or to build his own.]

How long have you been aboard, Shiro?

She seemed like it. Even if her card games were... well. Maybe cards aren't my strong point.

[Card towers on the other hand, those seem more doable. He nods to her in thanks, and, sliding across from her, finally pulls his hands out of his damn pockets to make his own.]

[Carefully.]

I got here during the last mission. A few months, I think.

Nor mine. I am told my poker face is unmatched, but if I must be honest, I am only partially familiar with the implications.

[It's a relaxing task, a mechanical one that's easy to disappear into while she's probing the other man with whatever comes to mind.]

What was your objective? I had not thought to ask the others.

It means you can bluff well. Poker's a card game where that comes in handy.

[You can thank being around two literal aliens for being used to explaining idioms like that.]

[He doesn't mind the questions, either. Answering questions about the mission comes easily enough, especially when your hands were busy gently standing cards on end.]

The 'enemy' they keep talking about had a presence on the planet. We were there to get it out.

[Her scoff is brief.]

Of course. Leave it to the undead to be most capable of hiding their tells.

[But that was neither here nor there.]

I imagine the mission was a success then.

[She has to hope it was. She remembers the felfire of the Legion swallowing and changing whatever those other creatures had been. They'd managed to isolate her from her entire unit, and it was a miracle she'd been rescued at all.

She had only felt so helpless two other times in her life.]

[If he hadn't closed down the mental walls so tight, the record screech of his thoughts would probably be audible for miles.]

Sorry... "undead"?

[That. Conjures up a lot of imagery. Mostly of old movies. But those things don't look like the woman stacking cards across from him. Not even remotely. Maybe she meant something else.]

[He nods, though, moving on.]

According to everyone there, it was. I came in about halfway through. But... we saved a lot of peoples' data.

Guess it wasn't all that bad.

[The way he says it clues her in enough -- he's not the first person to react the way he has, but she has to wonder. After all, she hardly gave off the aura of a living creature. Her ears were rotting, even if she didn't necessarily smell of a corpse. Perhaps that was what was throwing people off.

Or perhaps they were used to the sort of undead she conjured -- those who couldn't speak, or spoke in limited capacity.]

That is what I said, yes. You are unfamiliar with the term?

When someone who isn't shambling out of a graveyard trying to eat brains says it?

Yeah. Just a little.

[There's a touch of dark, flat humor to what he says. Seriously, though. Undead as far as he knew were zombies. Romero movies. Not people with weird, alien ears and cold feelings.]

[He'd seen weirder aliens by now, after all.]

Those sorts of undead are more common, of course. But someone or something must call them forth -- or are you unfamiliar with that sort of phenomenon as well?

[Perhaps the discussion of necromancy wasn't the best one to have while stacking cards. However, there would be a need for them to understand some time if she didn't want to surprise them in the middle of a mission.

Better now than never.]

In any case, I was killed and returned to life several years ago.

No, the media back home sort of went crazy with stories about them for a while.

[In all forms. It was really hard to avoid.]

[She's so different from all those movies though -- it's easier to accept than he thought it would be. Unless she suddenly decided to eat his face off or something.]

... I'm sorry. [And then he holds up his hands.] And I say that, because, I'll be honest, I have no idea what else to say to that.

[Except that after everything he's seen? It's less bizarre than it would be if she'd met him months ago.]

[She'd consider it, under different circumstances. But for now:]

That is the most common response.

[She pauses in her card stacking, as it has finally gotten too tall for her to reach comfortably.]

It is done. My service will end when my body deems it time, and there is nothing more to be done for it. I have nothing to pine for, so there is no cause for pity.

Maybe I'll think of something more original later.

[He won't. That's a joke. He's just got this deadpan sense of humor.]

Well. It's a good thing to have a good attitude about this kind of thing. You beat me there.

[As he reaches up to carefully stack one more on top. Stretching.]

A good attitude. [That makes her scoff humorously.] Death simply gives you perspective, alongside a great many other things. It seems few of the worlds this Nest hosts is in possession of the magic that results in undeath.

[She steps back a few paces, rounding the table at a bit of a distance to instead watch Shiro's method and masterpiece. For how casual their activities are, she is oddly at attention.]

Consider yourself fortunate, in that respect.

All right -- a good perspective, then.

[He's trying here man work with him!!!]

[He smiles a little, in apology for the bad word choice. But steps back to admire the card tower.]

I'll take your word for it. There's... magic where I'm from. But I'm pretty sure it can't bring people back from the dead.

[To this, she grins, clearly amused by his attempts. She chooses not to chide him further.]

Oh? What sort of magic?

[Here, she sounds genuinely interested, even as she turns back to compare their two towers.]

I'm not completely sure how it works, to be honest with you. I think it's something only one or two people can do.

[Or more, given... everything the Galra were apparently capable of doing. All the hazy memories of dark figures and chanting. Of twisting energies. The clearer ones of the monsters they made.]

It has to do with life force, as far as I know.

Hm. Interesting. I would not mind seeing it first hand.

[--or maybe she would, a thought later. If "life force" had anything to do with the Light, then she wanted no part of it. But few things seemed to carry between worlds, so she has no reason to imagine this would be any different.]

If I could, I would. It... doesn't seem like something humans are capable of.

[Just aliens. For good or for ill, depending on which side they were on. Technology is about as good as he can offer.]

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