[ have daisy's obnoxiously bougie apartment address. it's in The Fancy Area of town, the sort of upscale building where there's a full-time doorman and "lifestyle consultant" concierge on staff to tend to whatever needs might come.
[ Categorically not true, but whatever. He feels pretty nice, all things considered. On his way over – he has to take public transport, which he has literally never before done in his life beyond the typical yellow schoolbus, god he really needs to get a car – he detours to grab some ice cream, stymied for a minute by the frankly unconscionable amount of choice. He considers asking what flavour she wants, but decides that if she'd wanted something specific she would have asked, so he gets a little cup of bubblegum for himself and a sizeable tub of chocolate chip for Daisy.
He tries not to let himself get weirded out by her building, which seems oppressively rich and makes him uncomfortable just by virtue of existing. He's long since finished his ice cream – to his disappointment, despite being a quite violent shade of aquamarine, it didn't turn his tongue blue, something he considers one of life's simplest pleasures – so the only things he's carrying when he arrives at her door are her tub of ice cream and a fairly small bag of his own clothes.
[ you know what's awesome about living in an obscenely highend apartment building? all of the not-necessary-but-still-nice upgrades that come standard — like the built-in security camera that connects to all of the occupants' implant feeds, or the doors that open upon request without her having to physically get up to open them. which means that, once the front door to daisy's apartment swings open, it reveals an absurdly nice living room whose aesthetic does not match the girl currently bundled up in four different cozy blankets on the couch.
she has a beanie draped over her head courtesy of jyn, a cup of tea in her hands courtesy of cassian, and a stack of broken appliances in a box on the floor for fussing with when boredom gets the better of her. ]
Come in, [ because she's not getting up to greet him. nope. not today. ]
[ As much as living in a place like this isn't really for Tim, upon seeing the interior, he rapidly concedes that he wouldn't hate it either. It's clean, and he likes clean. Can't handle dirty, can't handle cosy, can't handle bric-a-brac strewn carelessly over surfaces or anything that isn't squared away and put in order. He shuts the door behind him and strides over to her with a sense of purpose, stopping near the end of the couch and offering her the tub of ice cream. ] Special delivery.
[ the biggest mess is daisy's bedrest piles — blankets on the couch, her recyclables on the floor, cups stacked on the coffee table in need of transition from living room to kitchen sink. there are plants everywhere though, herbs in the kitchen in little terracotta hanging pots or bigger ones on the counters, taller leafy things in big vases around the fireplace, and through the floor-to-ceiling windows, an absurd number of them out on the balcony.
none of them are daisy's. ]
Oh, you got the good brand, too. [ whether he did it on purpose or just lucky guess, she doesn't care. greedy hands take the ice cream from him and then reach out into the space between the coffee table and the couch, brow furrowing in concentration; a moment later, and daisy's chest glows bright blue as a pair of spoons rocket between a drawer in the kitchen and her waiting open palm.
[ It shouldn't, but that scares him a little, the feeling of something whipping by him, even if it's just a couple of spoons and he saw her chest glow and he should have expected it, even if he didn't know what her schtick was. It frustrates him, which shows on his face as little more than a slight tightening of his jaw, just for a second, and then he makes himself relax. Stupid. ]
Nah. I ate mine on the way. [ A pause, in which it's extremely obvious that he's deciding whether or not to say something. Ah, fuck it. ] I know this guy at work back home... Long story, but I had to kinda bodyguard him for a day and he wanted ice cream for breakfast. Passed like five stores on the way to the one we went in, 'cause of the other ones not carryin' the brand he likes, one of 'em kept the ice box too cold, the supermarket delivery guy would let the ice cream sit on a pallet for too long 'fore he loaded it into the freezer so there'd be... [ He sucks in a breath and lets it out slow. ] Freezer burn. So you're far from the fussiest person I've ever bought ice cream for, congrats.
[ she wonders, idly, if that's a true story — or if it's something to talk about while he shoves down whatever knee-jerk reaction made his face contort a little as the spoons flew by his face.
she's neither a mind-reader nor a shrink, but daisy's spent enough time with soldiers to recognize when something innocent triggers an unwanted reaction. more importantly, she's learned not to point it out. instead, she simply shrugs, shifting her feet from the end of the couch to the coffee table and gesturing for him to sit. ]
Freezer burn's disgusting, for the record. Totally ruins the consistency.
[ she stabs at a small pile of cacao chips just beneath the surface, digging them out like the world's least delicate archaeologist. ]
So I'm not allowed to get off the couch for a week or my roommates are going to murder me, but hopefully you already know how to use a washer.
You're in luck, I do. [ All of his clothes right now would go in a dark wash, which is maybe depressing, but also very functional. ] I can't believe I now know multiple people who give a shit about the consistency of ice cream.
[ what is it with men and monochromatic wardrobes? live a little! ]
Freezer burn on anything is disgusting!
[ it is actually only because jyn convinced her that frozen meat was okay that she's willing to eat it now. they also eat through their stores before they get freezerburnt. ]
While you're in there, can you grab the watering can? It's on a hook!
[ or on the floor? honestly, daisy doesn't know. she doesn't go in the laundry room ever, but jyn would be happy if the plants got watered, so she's going to ask tim to do his butler-y duties and water them. ]
Anythin' else you want me to do, master? [ Tim asks dryly as he's dragging his bag of clothes in the direction of the laundry room. ] Don't answer that. How's your head, by the way?
It's — you know, I've been worse? [ been shot and left for dead. everything's relative. ] I could probably manage, but I've been threatened if I get off the couch.
[ He did ask. And he's gonna do it, too. He likes watering plants, always does it for his mom when he goes to visit, but he's not about to tell Daisy that. ]
Can I ask you a question about it, or would it make you uncomfortable? [ He dumps all his clothes into the washer, and since there aren't many he adds hers to the mix too, and then sets about watering the plants, taking it slow. ]
About my recent foray into brain surgery, or all the other stupid shit I've done in my life?
[ she does not sound particularly fussed either way. in truth, admitting she's a fuck-up who's lucky to be alive is kind of therapeutic. she should really consider actual therapy, though. ]
Okay. [ He pokes his head out of the laundry room. ] Okay. So I watched this documentary that said people have to be awake during brain surgery, so a) were you awake and b) if so, what the fuck does that even feel like?
[ there's a small shrug of her shoulders, but overall, her expression is much the same. ]
They knocked me out in the car ride over, and I woke up to the whole thing being done. I'm guessing whatever they did, they didn't need me conscious for it. Or they erased my memories, but that somehow seems worse.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
like ice cream delivery, actually.
but this is more fun. ]
be nice to sam when you come in
no subject
[ Categorically not true, but whatever. He feels pretty nice, all things considered. On his way over – he has to take public transport, which he has literally never before done in his life beyond the typical yellow schoolbus, god he really needs to get a car – he detours to grab some ice cream, stymied for a minute by the frankly unconscionable amount of choice. He considers asking what flavour she wants, but decides that if she'd wanted something specific she would have asked, so he gets a little cup of bubblegum for himself and a sizeable tub of chocolate chip for Daisy.
He tries not to let himself get weirded out by her building, which seems oppressively rich and makes him uncomfortable just by virtue of existing. He's long since finished his ice cream – to his disappointment, despite being a quite violent shade of aquamarine, it didn't turn his tongue blue, something he considers one of life's simplest pleasures – so the only things he's carrying when he arrives at her door are her tub of ice cream and a fairly small bag of his own clothes.
(He was nice to Sam.) ]
no subject
she has a beanie draped over her head courtesy of jyn, a cup of tea in her hands courtesy of cassian, and a stack of broken appliances in a box on the floor for fussing with when boredom gets the better of her. ]
Come in, [ because she's not getting up to greet him. nope. not today. ]
no subject
no subject
none of them are daisy's. ]
Oh, you got the good brand, too. [ whether he did it on purpose or just lucky guess, she doesn't care. greedy hands take the ice cream from him and then reach out into the space between the coffee table and the couch, brow furrowing in concentration; a moment later, and daisy's chest glows bright blue as a pair of spoons rocket between a drawer in the kitchen and her waiting open palm.
thanks, new amsterdam, for that nifty power up. ]
You want some?
no subject
Nah. I ate mine on the way. [ A pause, in which it's extremely obvious that he's deciding whether or not to say something. Ah, fuck it. ] I know this guy at work back home... Long story, but I had to kinda bodyguard him for a day and he wanted ice cream for breakfast. Passed like five stores on the way to the one we went in, 'cause of the other ones not carryin' the brand he likes, one of 'em kept the ice box too cold, the supermarket delivery guy would let the ice cream sit on a pallet for too long 'fore he loaded it into the freezer so there'd be... [ He sucks in a breath and lets it out slow. ] Freezer burn. So you're far from the fussiest person I've ever bought ice cream for, congrats.
no subject
she's neither a mind-reader nor a shrink, but daisy's spent enough time with soldiers to recognize when something innocent triggers an unwanted reaction. more importantly, she's learned not to point it out. instead, she simply shrugs, shifting her feet from the end of the couch to the coffee table and gesturing for him to sit. ]
Freezer burn's disgusting, for the record. Totally ruins the consistency.
[ she stabs at a small pile of cacao chips just beneath the surface, digging them out like the world's least delicate archaeologist. ]
So I'm not allowed to get off the couch for a week or my roommates are going to murder me, but hopefully you already know how to use a washer.
[ does daisy?? maybe. maybe not. ]
no subject
no subject
Freezer burn on anything is disgusting!
[ it is actually only because jyn convinced her that frozen meat was okay that she's willing to eat it now. they also eat through their stores before they get freezerburnt. ]
While you're in there, can you grab the watering can? It's on a hook!
[ or on the floor? honestly, daisy doesn't know. she doesn't go in the laundry room ever, but jyn would be happy if the plants got watered, so she's going to ask tim to do his butler-y duties and water them. ]
no subject
no subject
[ well? he asked. no takebacks. ]
It's — you know, I've been worse? [ been shot and left for dead. everything's relative. ] I could probably manage, but I've been threatened if I get off the couch.
no subject
Can I ask you a question about it, or would it make you uncomfortable? [ He dumps all his clothes into the washer, and since there aren't many he adds hers to the mix too, and then sets about watering the plants, taking it slow. ]
no subject
[ she does not sound particularly fussed either way. in truth, admitting she's a fuck-up who's lucky to be alive is kind of therapeutic. she should really consider actual therapy, though. ]
You can ask whatever you want.
no subject
no subject
[ there's a small shrug of her shoulders, but overall, her expression is much the same. ]
They knocked me out in the car ride over, and I woke up to the whole thing being done. I'm guessing whatever they did, they didn't need me conscious for it. Or they erased my memories, but that somehow seems worse.