it's all e-cards. there are a couple websites out there where you can put their faces into animation or have cute messages come up.
[ she sends gaby a link or two. jibjab is alive and well in the future. she also sends the website for the shop where illya's bought all his suits (that she knows of). ]
if you're free tomorrow, we could check out some options?
[ she would offer to meet at the safehouse, but part of her gets the feeling that gaby would prefer the option of proving she's capable of navigating the city on her own. besides, the implant certainly makes things a little easier — maps are great, honestly, and the gps features couldn't be more intuitive. ]
[ daisy is Correct, gaby very much wants to keep proving herself capable of being a woman alone about town. mostly for her own benefit. everything is bonkers but she was good at navigating east berlin, new amsterdam can't be that hard.
they both have a wall.
gaby is running a few minutes late, but it's obvious when she arrives that it wasn't because she'd gotten lost but because she had stopped for a croissant, nibbling it as she strides down the sidewalk toward daisy. she looks much better dressed in her own clothes, more comfortable with herself, and she lifts her hand in greeting. ]
[ anything is better dressed than the mishmash of hand-me-downs from the safehouse collection bin, but daisy takes particular warmth in the sight of gaby bedecked in one of the outfits she'd owned before. she'd brought them to her because they'd been hers all along, of course, though there had been no guarantee that this gaby would wear them. for all daisy knew, she could have considered them charity pieces and dumped them out of principle.
but she hadn't. she was wearing them, and daisy's happy about that; it's obvious from the smile that's offered as return greeting. ]
Did you bring me one?
[ kidding. mostly. she would eat the hell out of a croissant though. ]
[ OUT OF HER BAG, gaby pulls a second croissant. daisy is helping her, gaby brought her a croissant and if gaby does one more nice thing they'll be even and she'll stop feeling like she owes anyone anything. (except illya, but he doesn't count. if gaby tried to give him anything he would give it back. she knows that.)
because daisy is right, it does feel like charity, but she knows better than to scoff in the face of it right now. ]
I didn't know what you liked so I guessed plain. [ her own is apple butter filled. ]
[ plain might be questionable for some people, but the enthusiastic way daisy shoves it into her mouth in order to take a bite proves that she is not one of those people. she will eat a damn plain croissant and be happy for it, thanks very much.
but maybe they shouldn't take their croissants into the fancy dress store, if the looks the shopgirls give them is anything to go by. so instead, daisy just leans up against the wall outside, gesturing with her croissant like a wobbly french pointer. ]
I like your dress.
[ it's familiar. wonder where she's seen it before. ]
[ she's glad daisy is just whole-heartedly inhaling the croissant. they are very good, buttery and flaky, but there's something about daisy's enthusiasm that encouraging. it's a little weird, she's not going to lie, trying to befriend her friend's lover.
but it seems that is what is happening.
stranger things have happened.
illya threw a motorcycle.
maybe it's just fair considering illya was a hot mess before gaby punched his defenses in the throat and tore down that wall like it was 1989. she is only seeing the fruits of her labors (or lies! same thing!) and being rewarded, by her own clothes. ]
Of course. [ half-kidding, she adds: ] They don't fit me, anyway.
[ if they had, she wouldn't have kept them. they weren't her style.
just like ignoring people she had befriended wasn't her style. if only gaby knew the kind of reaction daisy had had when illya had suggested she was his lover. the absolute spit-take, knee jerk denial, the horror in it. gaby probably would have laughed at her. but it's nice, in a way, that she isn't laughing now. she's not yelling, either, or sulking, or outright avoiding daisy in clear distaste — all are things daisy's very much grateful for.
a bite of the croissant yields a shower of flaky pieces, one of which falls onto daisy's wrist, where a watch newly sits. she's still getting used to the leather strap around her skin, still learning how to be careful with it; as the piece falls, she curses and sweeps it off, wetting the pad of her thumb on her tongue in order to clean off a bit of oil sheen from the butter.
[ they would probably fit daisy, if maybe a bit short. she is blessed with a larger chest than gaby and a different shape... ok. daisy is probably right, they wouldn't fit her.
daisy's haste to clean off the watch is what draws gaby's own attention to it. the watch is familiar enough, even if gaby had only seen it a handful of times. probeda carefully stamped in tiny little letters across the face, the second hand in its own ring. illya's father's watch.
her mouth feels dry and she swallows down the uncomfortable feeling in her chest, reaching into her little purse to pull out a handkerchief. ] Here. You might want to get a leather conditioner.
[ in true gaby teller fashion, she is going to ignore it. ]
[ she takes the handkerchief, but daisy's enough of a gremlin to not totally get the point; instead of using it against the glass surface of the watch like an intelligent person, she wipes her mouth and then crumples it in her fist, surely putting one too many undeserved wrinkles into the fabric. ]
Leather what?
[ like, for her hair? because if that's what she needs to clean the watch, she has that in the shower. ]
[ daisy, pls. gaby doesn't know if that is a thing available here, she would have to check a store because googling doesn't exactly come naturally to her, but it must be. leather lasts forever.
[ for a second, daisy just blinks at her. what watch? she doesn't wear a watch. or, more accurately, she never did. but as of literally the day before, daisy's got a watch that she can wear if she feels like it, and it happens to be sitting on her wrist newly cleaned off from an accidental butter smear.
(she's an idiot.) ]
Right. [ now she has to google it. unsurprisingly, leather isn't much of a thing in the future. ] Can I use regular conditioner?
[ a Shrug. honestly, she doesn't see what the big difference would be. conditioner conditions, it's literally in the name. but if gaby's going to do the hard work, then daisy will be generous enough to accept her efforts when the time comes. ]
Alright. [ a beat. ] You good to go in now?
[ are they sufficiently de-crumbed enough to go in the fancy men's shop? ]
[ she heaves the door open and strides inside like she owns the place. it's easy to do that when she is dressed in clothes she is comfortable in, like armor. she gives the store a quick sweep before she moves over to the tables piled with neat rows of ties organized by color. ]
[ excuse you, gaby, she IS the hot mess express. get it right.
but she is also perfectly willing to be the little red caboose in gaby's train of fashion exploration, so as one enters the store and beelines for the accessories department, daisy follows along agreeable as anything.
this is not her area of expertise by any stretch. the tie and pocket square combo she haphazardly picks up is ugly as sin, but she holds it up like it's a worthwhile option. ]
[ neither, she's just a disaster who mostly wore dark colors and plaid. her answer comes somewhat distracted, head down as she paws through a rack of jackets against the wall. ]
You must be very busy. [ considering everything is digital now, the need for daisy's job must be immense to keep everything from falling apart at the drop of a pin. maybe it's less necessary that she imagines, but since the tech is so irritatingly new to gaby, it feels like it's a very in demand job.
somewhere an apple employee struggling to keep a phone from exploding data is like THANK YOU YEAH IM VERY BUSY ]
[ little does daisy know just how busy she's going to get. ]
Mostly maintenance stuff lately. Businesses upgrading to new features, spending stupid amounts of money to prevent people from accessing their dirty secrets. Politicians, too, though they mostly do their own stuff in-house.
[ or they get assigned a team that's higher up than daisy is right now. ]
They're all really smug about how 'nothing could ever happen, don't be ridiculous', but tech is tech. Anything can fail.
There is so much here, if it fails it will fail.... extensively.
[ gaby is old fashioned, she would like to hide her money in a coffee can if she could, but she can't seem to stuff a line of code into a tin can. which is the most ill advised financial decision she could ever imagine. ]
It'll make this place into a third-world shithole, yeah.
[ tech that's complementary can be ignored if it goes wrong. tech that's replaced everything else simply destroys the world if it fails. daisy's hoping the latter never happens, but given this place's track records ... ]
Illya mentioned you've got a different hobby now. [ hobby, not power, because she's playing at being discrete. there's no telling how much these shopladies are listening. as for the power, well, daisy had known the first. not the second, though. ] Not hyping up on hoverbikes anymore?
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That's an excellent idea.
[ she can grab a tie and pocket square now and write an iou for the rest. but wait... ]
How do birthday cards work here?
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[ she sends gaby a link or two. jibjab is alive and well in the future. she also sends the website for the shop where illya's bought all his suits (that she knows of). ]
if you're free tomorrow, we could check out some options?
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[ it will give her time to figure out a card. old man yelling at sky.jpeg ]
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i'll meet you there.
[ she would offer to meet at the safehouse, but part of her gets the feeling that gaby would prefer the option of proving she's capable of navigating the city on her own. besides, the implant certainly makes things a little easier — maps are great, honestly, and the gps features couldn't be more intuitive. ]
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[ daisy is Correct, gaby very much wants to keep proving herself capable of being a woman alone about town. mostly for her own benefit. everything is bonkers but she was good at navigating east berlin, new amsterdam can't be that hard.
they both have a wall.
gaby is running a few minutes late, but it's obvious when she arrives that it wasn't because she'd gotten lost but because she had stopped for a croissant, nibbling it as she strides down the sidewalk toward daisy. she looks much better dressed in her own clothes, more comfortable with herself, and she lifts her hand in greeting. ]
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but she hadn't. she was wearing them, and daisy's happy about that; it's obvious from the smile that's offered as return greeting. ]
Did you bring me one?
[ kidding. mostly. she would eat the hell out of a croissant though. ]
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because daisy is right, it does feel like charity, but she knows better than to scoff in the face of it right now. ]
I didn't know what you liked so I guessed plain. [ her own is apple butter filled. ]
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but maybe they shouldn't take their croissants into the fancy dress store, if the looks the shopgirls give them is anything to go by. so instead, daisy just leans up against the wall outside, gesturing with her croissant like a wobbly french pointer. ]
I like your dress.
[ it's familiar. wonder where she's seen it before. ]
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[ she's glad daisy is just whole-heartedly inhaling the croissant. they are very good, buttery and flaky, but there's something about daisy's enthusiasm that encouraging. it's a little weird, she's not going to lie, trying to befriend her friend's lover.
but it seems that is what is happening.
stranger things have happened.
illya threw a motorcycle.
maybe it's just fair considering illya was a hot mess before gaby punched his defenses in the throat and tore down that wall like it was 1989. she is only seeing the fruits of her labors (or lies! same thing!) and being rewarded, by her own clothes. ]
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[ if they had, she wouldn't have kept them. they weren't her style.
just like ignoring people she had befriended wasn't her style. if only gaby knew the kind of reaction daisy had had when illya had suggested she was his lover. the absolute spit-take, knee jerk denial, the horror in it. gaby probably would have laughed at her. but it's nice, in a way, that she isn't laughing now. she's not yelling, either, or sulking, or outright avoiding daisy in clear distaste — all are things daisy's very much grateful for.
a bite of the croissant yields a shower of flaky pieces, one of which falls onto daisy's wrist, where a watch newly sits. she's still getting used to the leather strap around her skin, still learning how to be careful with it; as the piece falls, she curses and sweeps it off, wetting the pad of her thumb on her tongue in order to clean off a bit of oil sheen from the butter.
gaby might recognize said watch. ]
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daisy's haste to clean off the watch is what draws gaby's own attention to it. the watch is familiar enough, even if gaby had only seen it a handful of times. probeda carefully stamped in tiny little letters across the face, the second hand in its own ring. illya's father's watch.
her mouth feels dry and she swallows down the uncomfortable feeling in her chest, reaching into her little purse to pull out a handkerchief. ] Here. You might want to get a leather conditioner.
[ in true gaby teller fashion, she is going to ignore it. ]
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Leather what?
[ like, for her hair? because if that's what she needs to clean the watch, she has that in the shower. ]
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[ daisy, pls. gaby doesn't know if that is a thing available here, she would have to check a store because googling doesn't exactly come naturally to her, but it must be. leather lasts forever.
maybe not 1963 to now forever though. ]
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(she's an idiot.) ]
Right. [ now she has to google it. unsurprisingly, leather isn't much of a thing in the future. ] Can I use regular conditioner?
[ again: she's an idiot. ]
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...no.
[ daisy please. gaby lifts her hands as if to stem any more questions. ]
I will find you some.
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Alright. [ a beat. ] You good to go in now?
[ are they sufficiently de-crumbed enough to go in the fancy men's shop? ]
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Yes, we can go now.
[ she heaves the door open and strides inside like she owns the place. it's easy to do that when she is dressed in clothes she is comfortable in, like armor. she gives the store a quick sweep before she moves over to the tables piled with neat rows of ties organized by color. ]
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but she is also perfectly willing to be the little red caboose in gaby's train of fashion exploration, so as one enters the store and beelines for the accessories department, daisy follows along agreeable as anything.
this is not her area of expertise by any stretch. the tie and pocket square combo she haphazardly picks up is ugly as sin, but she holds it up like it's a worthwhile option. ]
What do you think?
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she tries to be diplomatic: ] No, I don't think that is quite right.
[ leafing through the solid color ties, she glances over at daisy in a brief study. ] What is it that you do?
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As a job? Digital security. Vyonation.
[ gaby already knows what she does back home. ]
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somewhere an apple employee struggling to keep a phone from exploding data is like THANK YOU YEAH IM VERY BUSY ]
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Mostly maintenance stuff lately. Businesses upgrading to new features, spending stupid amounts of money to prevent people from accessing their dirty secrets. Politicians, too, though they mostly do their own stuff in-house.
[ or they get assigned a team that's higher up than daisy is right now. ]
They're all really smug about how 'nothing could ever happen, don't be ridiculous', but tech is tech. Anything can fail.
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[ gaby is old fashioned, she would like to hide her money in a coffee can if she could, but she can't seem to stuff a line of code into a tin can. which is the most ill advised financial decision she could ever imagine. ]
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[ tech that's complementary can be ignored if it goes wrong. tech that's replaced everything else simply destroys the world if it fails. daisy's hoping the latter never happens, but given this place's track records ... ]
Illya mentioned you've got a different hobby now. [ hobby, not power, because she's playing at being discrete. there's no telling how much these shopladies are listening. as for the power, well, daisy had known the first. not the second, though. ] Not hyping up on hoverbikes anymore?
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Trying something new. I don't think ice sculpture will be very useful, but it certainly suits me.
[ she adds dryly, in case daisy missed the self drag: ] Cold.
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