station72 | [MISSION LOG] BRAVE NEW WORLD

[MISSION LOG] BRAVE NEW WORLD

CHARACTERS: All
WHERE: The Station + Concordia
WHEN: Day :000 - ???
SUMMARY: Leaving the Station; the arrival and first days on Concordia. Concordia pt.1.
WARNINGS: Will update as necessary.

IT'S EARLY IN THE DAY and something feels strange. It’s not unlike when a new Host - not one of your brood, but close enough to feel the tug - comes awake on the Nesting Deck. But it’s just the initial tug. There’s no noise, no hum of confusion or volume. Today, it’s just there: a sensation of presence that a moment ago wasn’t. Soon after follows a prickling awareness of urgency. A small electric bolt through the mind. Cathaway doesn’t use words in the mind, but her meaning is nonetheless easily understood: come to her on the hangar; your presence is required.

On the hangar there is a sleek, low profile transport ship. Before it stand Cathaway and Prince and in their company is a stranger: a short woman with warm skin and dark hair, wearing unfamiliar colorful clothes and a quick, pleasant smile. You’ve never seen her before, but you know she’s a Host.

“This is them?” Her voice is light and sweet. Prince, occupied by a databank, glances up at her then nods once. There’s a tension in his shoulder and through his jaw - a distinct contrast to Cathaway and the stranger who lack both.

“Lovely.” Her tone is breezy and easy, delighted. “Hello, it is so nice to meet you all! My name is Carata. My partner and I have been away on duty for a few months, but it’s become clear that we need backup on our assignment. We are hoping you can help.” Carata motions to the mission equipment in neat kits at her feet. There is one for each young Host.

Prince folds his pad down into its smallest form. His expression is set and serious.

“You will be joining Carata and Nirad on the planet below to assist them with their mission. Your datapbank will provide you with information about the planet and the city where you will be stationed. This mission is covert and the planet itself has no contact with other planetary races, so you will need to do your utmost to blend in.”

Cathaway sharpens slowly beside them: a dull pencil being sharpened to a point as her attention curves back to this place, this instance. She unfolds her hands. “You’ll be provided with an earpiece that should allow you to interface with the local technology and a fake identity for your cover on world. Please mind both carefully and be sure to keep your databanks offline. It would be inconvenient if they were networked while on planet.” From the way she says it, it sounds like ‘inconvenient’ might be an understatement. “This mission shouldn’t be inherently life threatening. Your primary goal is to investigate the anti-android movement. Carata and Nirad will be able to tell you what your databanks do not.”

“You should listen to them,” Prince adds. “Rely on their experience and knowledge to help you succeed in your task. Be mindful, and treat them with the respect they have earned.”

At this Carata laughs. It’s a bright, joyful sound, her hands coming up to clasp in front of her chest, “Please, teacher, you are too serious. I am sure they will do very well. Come along then! Gather your things; we must leave as soon as possible. I do hate to leave Nirad alone for too long.”

Turning her back to the Hosts, Carata takes Cathaway’s hand for a moment Nothing is said, but there’s the distinct impression of something passing between them. They release their grip, then Carata turns to Prince. She places her hands on his shoulders and goes up to her toes to press a kiss to his cheek. He doesn’t return the gesture, but those with sharp eyes will note he does lean down slightly to make her job easier.

Gather your gear, get anything from your rooms you might not want to leave behind. In two hours, everyone attending the mission will be buckled or strapped into the transport as Carata readies the ship for takeoff. She explains, neatly and concisely, what they believe the enemy to be doing in Concordia. Then, with a turning of the deck, the ship is freed from the embrace of Station 72.

It will be a long time before you see this place again.

     I. THE WHEELS ON THE BUS
The flight to Concordia is surprisingly short. By the time Carata's finished her explanation, you've passed into a new universe. It comes with a strange wave of something akin to nausea. Outside the transport's starboard viewports lays Opia in all it's glory: a beautiful blue marble speckled with sixteen landmasses and swathed in thing clouds like spun sugar. From this distance, clusters of light burn from specific points on the continents like a map of grounded constellations. As one of the great megacities of Opia comes curling from around the edge of the planet, the transport ship begins to descend.

Atmospheric entry is smooth. The transport drops at the outskirts of Concordia on what is, hilariously, some kind of large parking garage. It has engaged the most sophisticated of its cloaking technology to do this and Carata urged everyone to disembark quickly so the ship can return to orbiting the planet before it's detected.

"It will be back," she says flippantly. "When we've finished our job."

The ship departs. It's quiet and still for a handful of minutes; Carata seems unconcerned and gives little in the way of direction or instruction. The city flashes around them - bright lights and neon masking the fading of natural light - and nearby, a roadway hums. Eventually the sound of a car pitches louder. A set of headlamps shear from the long line of cars and in moments a long, squarish transport van pulls up and parks at the top of the garage. The side door slides open to admit everyone. In the driver's seat is an android - shining metal and cheerful as it greets every host by name. Beside the android in the van's passenger seat sits a tall, dark skinned man who - much like Carata - is obviously a host.

Welcome to Concordia.

     II. HOME SWEET HOME
It's a long drive into the city. The buildings get taller, the lights get brighter, the streets get busier. There are throngs of people on the street, dogged by endless rows of neon bright advertisements. Traffic is either miserable or flowing depending on the neighborhood and trams run on tracks fifty feet or more above the roadways. Streams of people files from the pavement to the subways, countless numbers of escalators leading down.

When the bus finally stops, it's in front of a building as tall as any others. The signs here mark this section of the city as BETA BLOCK and when you get out and into the building lobby you find that the door opens for you automatically. A chime rings through the interfacing ear piece and when you enter the elevators, the only floor accessible to you is NUMBER EIGHTEEN. When you disembark, a kind voice welcomes you by home in your ear. There are a large number of rooms here in Bearing - stake your claim, everyone! Nirad and Carata already have a couple of rooms in the Southwest corner of the building, but the rest are open. Time to settle in!

     III. FEET ON THE GROUND
You're given the rest of the night to sleep (or...whatever), but by 9AM the next morning everyone is awoken by Carata's voice in their head. She's clearly not shy of using her symbiotic connection.

( Good morning! I know this is quite a lot to get used to. I believe this is your first true assignment? But I have always believed that the best way to learn something new is to jump right in. ) The words are accompanied by the sensation of someone clapping their hands together, a cheerful kind of practicality. ( You’ve been given a credit card. I encourage you to go out today and learn what you can about this place. Talk to people. Listen to the news. Be sure to remember your cover identity, and don’t hesitate to call if you find yourself in trouble. )

There is nothing pressing to the suggestion, just the sensation- light. Airy. Fun. She switches track after a moment, a thoughtful addition: ( There is also a rally in town today. It’s being run by The True Children of Opia, some minor little hate group-- ) She seems to wave off the unsavory aspects as she forges ahead, ( They aren’t affiliated with Humans + Humans 1st, but they do have very similar ideologies and it is quite probable that there is overlap in their membership. If you would rather, it is also quite likely that there will be protestors there as well, both members of Mind Life and those who are adamant about pursuing digital resurrection. Please do be careful, though, sometimes those rallies can be a little... ) An image of an oily substance catching flame, quickly and hotly.

( Whatever you chose, simply do your best to get your bearings. ) She seems to realize the unintended joke there, given the name of their current residence, and a bright happy flash of color accompanies it. What a delightful surprise. ( Prepare yourself for what is to come. Nirad and I will continue our investigation in the meantime. )

((OOC Notes: This is the catchall log for the first stages of the Concordia mission. You'll notice there's no set ending date, so use this log however you like - alternatively, feel free to start your own logs in the setting! Don't worry; we'll be keeping a close eye on things, so if something big starts to happen that necessitates a new long, we'll make sure to keep our bases covered and all of y'all updated. Just be aware that dating forward farther than :010 may get a little dicey.

If you have any mission specific questions, direct them to the OOC post here.))

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[ Of course she's the leader. She has that air about her. Not in a good way, he thinks, but if he's being honest, he's a little jealous of the way she commands a room. There's nothing uncertain about her. No matter what he says, she doesn't shrink. (It's annoying as hell when it's her, but if it were him, it would be better.) He's not surprised to hear she's a leader-type, although a leader of a whole people is unexpected. She's likely in her twenties, not exactly the age most leaders tend to be. He's twenty-seven and spent his entire adult life climbing the corporate ladder, yet he still hadn't made it above middle-management when he was with Hyperion. The only reason he's anything at all at Atlas is because he's the only living employee.

So, again, sort of jealous. ]

We're not sensitive, my boss ran a freakin' kitten-fighting ring. [ Immediately frowning, he says, ] Not. That I like kitten-fighting rings. I'm just saying.

I live— lived. Lived on a planet that was, like, ninety-nine percent murderers, all right. So, it's not like everything was flowers and rainbows and sharing circles for us, either.

[ Basically, you're not that special, Lexa, god!!! ]

Where I'm from, if you insult someone, you're gonna get punched in the face. Or, y'know, head-butted, or— basically any sort of head trauma, really. Trust me, I've got experience.

[So, that's how they show their strength—by responding to every insult that comes their way. Lexa notices that he hasn't shown any signs of punching her for what she said. Maybe he had been surprised, but it's not like he's changed that. Then again, he might realize that it's a hopeless cause.

There are a number of things to dissect from his statement. Lexa considers all of them. One conclusion she makes is that while he says that his people aren't sensitive, it's clear that he is (kitten comment completely ignored, as it seems irrelevant). His feelings are hurt. He's done nothing to persuade her otherwise.

So, she'll stick with her original conclusion. Like she's decided twice before.]

What did they gain by all being murderers? [That's where she decides to take this conversation.] There are warriors who go rogue and kill in my world, but they're exiled and made to fend for themselves. Still, I wouldn't call them murderers.

[ Rhys laughs and shakes his head, a little condescending in a "it's funny how much more I know than you do" way. ]

Okay, well, you're clearly not from Pandora.

[ It's clear he thinks Lexa's world is the Weenie Hut Jr's to Pandora's Salty Spitoon. Like he imagines that they ride unicorns around and that little birds help Lexa get dressed in the morning. Birds help him get dressed in the morning, too, if you count Rakk shit as clothing. ]

"Exile" and "fend for themselves," [ he says, with air quotes. ] That doesn't mean anything there, I mean, everyone's already fending for themselves. It's a lawless wasteland sort of thing.

[ He's got a more negative opinion than some people do — he didn't grow up there, he has no fond memories of whatever the hell it is Pandoran kids do — but even the people who live on Pandora don't want to be on Pandora. That seems like enough evidence to make his case. ]

You kill someone if you want their stuff. Or if they pissed you off. Or if you're just bored. I don't know, a lot of people have tried to kill me for a lot of different reasons. A. Lot.

Your people are too selfish to realize that there are better ways to survive. [Lexa would say that they're too "individualistic," but she doesn't think that's necessarily the right word for it. They lack a leader, or a system that would protect them in a situation like that. She can just as easily see how her world would have become a "lawless wasteland," and she imagines that Skaikru actually believed them to be like that.

The Mountain Men certainly did, at least to some degree. It's how they justified using her people like slaves to either turn into monsters or throw away like sacks of meat.]

It explains a lot about you. [Which is a vague statement that could certainly be taken as an insult, but there's no insult packed behind the words or in her mind.

(It's definitely insulting, though.)]

They're not [ air quotes ] my people.

[ He's definitely taking it as an insult. Mostly, he's determined to take anything Lexa says in the worst way possible. They'll work together all right, he figures, but it doesn't mean she won't still be a gigantic asshole. (An asshole who doesn't deserve to have as many authoritative qualities as she does. It isn't fair. ]

I used to live on Helios. [ He says it like he should know what it's from. ] Oh. Helios was this space station around Pandora's moon. It was also the base of operations for my company. Hyperion.

[ The way he says it is somewhat rehearsed, like he's already told the story. Probably because he has. He nearly expects her to point a gun at him and ask, "What happened next?" just like old times. ]

We were one of the top manufacturers in the six galaxies, just so you know. [ They were also a company of corrupt assholes, but he's fine not mentioning that to Lexa. ] Kind of a big deal.

[The name "Pandora" resonates within her, like a distant thought or memory that doesn't belong to her. She knows about the myth of Pandora's Box, but she doesn't think that's where her knowledge comes from. She considers asking him about it, but chooses not to. Still, there's the sense that the name gives her pause, one that she can't hide completely from him.]

One of the groups of people that recently joined with mine had come down from space, [is what she says instead, considering his words.] They went up there because of space exploration, but it became home for all of them after our world burned. [No, that doesn't sound like a Disney princess, story, Rhys.]

Were you born up there?

[ He considers telling her to mind her own business, but he can't help it. He loves talking about himself. As much as he wants to tell Lexa to shove it simply for the sake of being petty, he can't. Well, he can. Maybe later. ]

What, on Helios? [ Shaking his head, ] No. Like I said, it was just Hyperion's moonbase.

[ Contrary to popular belief, he didn't come out of the womb wearing a suit and carrying business cards. ]

But I got a job there after college, and, you know, that was sort of it. You don't really leave Helios. Or Hyperion. I mean, I did, but. Not a recommended experience.

[There are two directions she could take this, but there's a hint of curiosity to those words. By now, Lexa understands clearly enough that jobs are different from the vocation you take up within a village or even at the capital. Not everyone does something for the sake of surviving. Combine that with the bad conditions of where he's come from, and she finds herself puzzled.

And concerned.]

Were you kept against your will? [There is a sense that this is a loaded question of a kind. Lexa isn't asking out of a place of pure sympathy to his circumstances, but it's other circumstances that leave her wondering. She isn't selfish, at least, or making demands.

For once.]

Eeeeeeeeh, [ he says, making a 'so-so' gesture. ] Not if you want to be there. It's only when you... don't. Want to be there. Or if you don't want to clean up trash with your bare hands—

[ Clearly, there's some very personal resentment there. He still hasn't moved past that demotion. Probably never will. He exhales sharply. ]

I mean, it's a job. You take it, and they pay you, and all that. You just can't... quit. Without dying.

[ The memory of being forced to dig his own grave is fresh. Assholes. Still, it's hard to entirely badmouth Hyperion. He'd wanted, more than anything, to be a part of it. He'd wanted to run a company, and Hyperion was the best of the best. Sitting in the president's chair, looking out at Pandora below, that was the dream. You don't forget all that wishing and hoping just because you embezzled heavily, lost the money to a con, got hunted down, got the president accidentally killed, unwittingly set a psychopathic AI loose in the system— just because a lot of ridiculous shit happened. ]

Hyperion was really big on the whole 'killing people' thing.

You say that as if all jobs work that way. From what you've shared of your world, that may be so. What I've learned here is that they're different. Before you ask, my people don't keep employment in the sense that you might think. We're too busy working together to survive, and we don't have a traditional currency. [There is a quick beat before she offers an aside to that statement:] Truthfully, giving away something useless for a good feels foolish, and like it can be taken advantage of.

[Unaware of counterfeiting as a practice in some worlds, she can still imagine that people would find a way to accomplish it. No, she couldn't begin to figure out how, but it still seems strange to her.]

Were there people in charge in your world who enforced this way of life? [There was someone in Ilde's, a man whose power led him to oppressing others.

It seemed like a thing that people do when they get mad with power.]

Edited (close your html kiddos ) 2016-06-06 04:34 (UTC)

You mean like a CEO?

[ She probably doesn't even know what a CEO is, he realizes. They don't even have money where she's from. They certainly don't have anything like Hyperion. ]

We had a guy in charge of Hyperion, if that's what you mean. A lot of guys, actually, since— they kept... getting killed. By each other.

[ Tassiter, Jack, Henderson, Vasquez — Rhys, the next could've been Rhys if not for Jack's sociopathy. Goddammit. He could've made a real difference, but instead, he's here on an alien planet with a girl who comes from a place without currency and is super mean.

He misses Vaughn. He misses Fiona and Sasha. At least they were affectionately dickish. ]

[If it weren't for this city, the title of CEO would be lost on her. But in the last twenty four hours, she's at least familiarized herself with the title because it was available in their dossier. Still, she firmly associates it with businesses ... instead of governing bodies.

She shakes her head for a moment.]

I was thinking more along the lines of a political leader. A lawmaker. Did no one make laws for your people, or did these companies control everything?

[She has a feeling what the answer is going to be (a firm no), but asking clarification is necessary.

And as much as she literally fails at affection, she is curious, Rhys. Genuinely curious.]

[ A "lawmaker" on Pandora — that's Jack. Was Jack, he supposes. Even though his laws were mostly "don't be a bandit or we'll kill you" and "let me do whatever I want". He'd talked a lot about bringing order to Pandora, but looking back, it doesn't exactly scream order so much as it does random violence. ]

We did — we meaning Hyperion — kind of take control of Pandora? Jack did, anyway, he was sort of... dictator-y.

[ It doesn't even occur to him that anyone in the entire world could not know who Handsome Jack is until a few moments later. ]

Oh, Jack, he was CEO. Of Hyperion. We were pretty much the most powerful company in the world, so. [ He shrugs his shoulders a little, looking a little prideful despite himself. He doesn't stand behind all the things Hyperion did, especially not under Jack's reign, but Hyperion had been #1 in the world and Rhys had been a part of it. He hadn't envisioned being an insignificant code monkey, but he had always wanted to be part of a big, important corporation. ] I mean, Pandora is just one planet, but it's also the only planet with Vaults. Kind of a big deal.

[In another time, in another place, Lexa will recall this conversation and put together the necessary pieces about Rhys, Angel, and Jack. But this is prior to her conversation with Angel, and she hasn't actually made it back to Rhys yet after that. But still, here's a nice paragraph of foreshadowing for the hell of it.

Just the same, her lips twist downward in judgment toward this Jack figure. A dictator isn't a true leader. No matter how much she makes demands for people to follow her, no matter how much she has made questionable choices for the greater good because of some utilitarian thinking she has in mind, she is still far from a dictator. The judgment toward him resonates in her mind.]

Power is something, but if you think you have to utilize it to be a dictator, then you aren't very good at wielding it. [Even if she knows little about this man, he clearly wasn't very good at being a dictator, either. Of course, this is hardly the first time Lexa has gone about judging another world's leaders.

(Probably because she's very good at being judgey.)]

What makes these Vaults so relevant? [She knows what a "vault" is, linguistically, but that's ... honestly why she's asking.]

[ He can feel her judgment. He likes her a little more now. A little.

Clearly pleased that he knows things Lexa doesn't, he takes a moment to relish the feeling. It's not just anything, either, it's Vaults — something he's got a pretty damn good story about, even if the ending was... sort of crappy. ]

Oh, you know, [ he says, in a fake nonchalant tone, leaning against the wall. Overall, he gives off an air of whatever, it's not a big deal that makes it clear he thinks it is, in fact, a big deal. ] Just hoards of ancient alien treasure hidden around Pandora. I found one. Whatever.

["Treasure" is ... obviously lost on her. Her people have been able to come across a large number of things, but what good is "treasure" taken from the Smithsonian (which they only realized it was treasure when it was identified by books they found years later) if it wouldn't help them survive? While Lexa doesn't mean to project these thoughts, she clearly assumes that "treasure" means "money," which falls into the realm of "useless."

But still, she asks to clarify:] Were weapons among these treasures? Things that would improve the lives of your people?

[Yes.

Yes, Rhys. She has missed the entire point of the Vaults.]

[ God dammit, Lexa, how dare you insult money like that.

In response to her question, he makes a noncommittal noise, waving his hand around vaguely. ] You know... some of column A, some of column B? [ He realizes, though, that there's a high chance she can tell he's lying. If not by their brood connection, then by the crappy, half-hearted, vague response. ] I didn't... actually see anything in the Vault?

[ He grimaces, """cool""" demeanor gone as he awkwardly fidgets with his hands. ]

But I did see the box the treasure was in! Oh, that makes it sound worse. Raking in that sweet Eridian treasure was sort of interrupted by almost dying and coming here and getting a parasite put in me.

[ It can't be a parasite if it's in a symbiotic relationship with him, but whatever. ]

But it's supposed to be super advanced technology and riches.

[If she wasn't impressed before, she definitely isn't now. She considers him, measuring him up with a sweep of her eyes. Technology she can see value in, because she imagines that can help their world. If it's a world that spoke with ... currency, then she'd understand how that would advance a certain perspective.

But there are two problems:

One, she can tell Rhys is lying about this technology.

And two, she doesn't think Rhys is really the type to use this for the betterment of all. He doesn't really scream "helpful leader" type.]

What would you have done if our so-called enemy hadn't found you? [She's still uncertain about the enemy in question. Oh, she believes they exist, just like he does. How can she not? And yet—]

So-called? [ Things are more often his enemy than not, so he's inclined to believe their 'so-called enemy' is just their enemy. It hadn't actually occurred to him to question it until she mentioned it. He doesn't want to admit that he's now considering it because of her, but he's not considering it because of her. ]

—Oh, [ he says, when he remembers her question. ] Me and Fiona would've opened the Vault, and then we'd have been rich and famous, and I would've— okay, I'd have rolled around in money a little bit. [ He already knows she'll judge him for that, so he moves on. ] We would've found all kinds of things. Stuff I could have used to start my company. Probably guns, maybe Eridium?

[ He waves his hands. ]

Just a bunch of cool, valuable stuff, okay.

Should I know what Eridium is? [she asks, dismissing the whole "so-called" thing because she's not about to drag Rhys into thoughts of discomfort about their whole situation. The thoughts do exist and she doesn't think that she's entirely irrational for having them, but those thoughts also evolve a lot from day to day for her.]

And what company did you hope to start? Would you have tried to become in charge through it? [Like the other man—the dictator, Jack. It's hard to imagine Rhys starting anything, but that's because she doubts he has the ability to utilize words without thinking about them in advance. Even this conversation has shown that he's poor at it: he lets his emotions get the best of him, and he can't wall them off to consider that there might be something more in play than his brief bruises.

It's a poor disposition for someone in charge of anything.]

Oh, my god, I keep forgetting you don't know anything. [ It's definitely the wrong way to phrase it, and he quickly raises his hands in a gesture of surrender. ] About Pandora, I mean, please don't kill me. [ He raises his hand to smooth out his hair as an unconscious habit, exhaling slowly. ] Okay, we need to get you a glossary or something. Long story short, Eridium can be used to power stuff and people really want it, that's the gist of it.

[ Hyperion had been obsessed with mining the stuff, but that's not really Rhys's department. If he's mining anything, it's data. She asks a lot of questions but tells him nothing about herself, but he doesn't seem to mind. Lexa is a captive audience for his story and is currently giving him attention. That's all he really needs. ]

And actually, you're looking at the CEO of the Atlas corporation. [ He points to himself, like she might assume the wall behind him is a CEO. ] Annnd the only surviving member. For now. But I'm not looking to become a dictator, if that's what you're asking. [ He did want to be exactly like Handsome Jack — exactly — but these days, distancing himself from Jack as much as possible seems wisest. ] I've always wanted to be in charge of a successful company, that's it.

[So, in essence, it's some kind of fuel. That is understandable enough to her. She assumes it's a type of fuel she doesn't fully comprehend, or something that doesn't exist in her world. More than just technology, Lexa's come across a few things that she doubts exists in her world. For one thing, the fact that many of the people have power. She doesn't have anything like that.

She files that away, but decides that it's likely irrelevant unless she ends up speaking to him about the matter again. It might be a useful point of comparison if they come across any other unusual power sources.]

"That's it"? [she echoes. Oh, here comes the judgment. It's almost like she's been waiting to nail him with something, and he's just provided it.] Your world is in trouble. Not all people can be expected to help with that. I know that's likely beyond your ambitions. [This is definitely an insult.]

But you hoped to lead people in this world all the same. Without considering the consequences or what you might accomplish. And if you're the last surviving member, does that mean you've already gotten your people killed?

[ Holding his hands up to stop her: ] Whoa, whoa, whoa, you don't know my whole backstory, okay, so cool your jets. Please.

[ Also, how dare she, nothing is beyond his ambitions, homeboy is a stone cold Slytherin. He's so close to pulling a sassy "You know my name but not my story!" move. He technically did get "his people" killed, but not in the way she's asking, so he decides to sidestep it. He's not lying — he didn't get anyone at Atlas killed. He's just omitting the part where he's gotten other people killed. ]

They were all dead before I became CEO. [ Doesn't sound sketchy at all. ] I mean, I'm just— it's only in name right now, I haven't actually— [ He feels he's going to talk himself into a corner somehow, since Lexa's too smart to miss an opportunity to jab at him, so he just stops. ] Never mind.

The point is... listen. This has been my dream since I was a zygote, okay? I've been at this a while. I know exactly the consequences and what I might accomplish. I know how the corporate world works, and I know not to use Comic Sans on my business cards. Soooo... check yourself before you wreck yourself.

If you lie that obviously, your enemies will always see through you. I don't believe that you could handle the constant turmoil. [Yes, she has leaped right to the conclusion that he never actually had other employees and that the entire thing was just a conceptual mess. That's what makes the most sense now.]

That may be true of this world, as well. Be certain that you have your facts straight before you proceed. [It's not that she meant to catch him up. It's not even that she thinks everyone has to act out of the goodness of their hearts for everyone else. Lexa certainly doesn't believe that.

It's just that Rhys is so ... there's something about him that sends her into a constantly critical state.]

[ Her kneejerk irritation is... pretty fair, honestly. He's very polarizing. Like cilantro. Clearly offended that she seems to perceive him as entirely incompetent, he crosses his arms, staring at her in the haughty way he has. Then, he taps his foot and pretends to look at his watch like he has somewhere important to be. (He doesn't even have a watch on, he's just looking at his wrist.) ]

Okay, well, thanks for the lecture. Food for thought, food for thought. Is that it, though?

[ He raises an eyebrow, expectant. ]

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