[ they can resolutely not talk about their sad backstories together ]
trying to figure out if i can rock the peak crazy britney bald head look or if i need to suck it up and buy a wig can't believe the future doesn't have magic hair restoration by now, you'd think bald dudes would have demanded a cure
i'm great, i really love being kidnapped to a completely different time, leaving everyone i know and love behind and picking up a minimum wage job in a late stage capitalism hellscape
[ The sarcasm is a defense mechanism and he knows it, but neither is Nate abundantly prepared to share the full extent of his insecurities with a near-stranger.
It looks worse if he avoids the subject completely, though. ]
you sure you should be drinking so soon after surgery?
[ more like dumped into another mystery limo feeling like her insides were about to come out through her mouth. good times at the questionable brain surgery corral. ]
you can pour me another tea when you come over, though, if it makes you feel better.
[ it's an obnoxiously fancy apartment building that i really should do a write-up for... one day...
have a gps ping, and a verification a moment later that [Bad username or site: nathan @ drake] has been added to the approved visitor's list, today only. ]
[ Hell, time to make good on being a decent human being, huh? The ping drops a way point on his map and Nate realizes it isn't far - a short walk, for his standards - and he heads in her direction.
It's nice.
Like, really nice. Uncomfortably so, in a way that makes him think she'd be a one-percenter if she didn't give off the vibes of someone who absolutely gives no fucks about that kind of thing. His access code, whatever she sent, allows him up into the complex, something expansive and glamorous that CEOs from Silicon Valley circa 2015 would drool over.
Not knowing more protocol than what he's always had Nate knocks thrice on the panel door when he finds it, waiting. ]
[ the truth is, daisy stole her apartment. it happened in a dream once, and resulted in her and three other grown adults all with reasonably well-paying jobs being put on the lease of a two-bedroom, two-bath penthouse — a lease that demanded a rent sum that a teenage barista could pay out of their weekly check and still have money left over to blow afterwards.
it was a joke, honestly.
but it's a nice place to live, and the doorman and the night manager seem to appreciate having four people who appreciate nice things on their tenant list, and daisy doesn't mind sharing the wealth. she lets people come over to swim in the obnoxious infinity lap pool, or to hang out on the rooftop deck; she hosts parties here for the displaced when she can, for christmas or what-have-you, though she's done less of that lately. too many people being assholes makes her less interested in playing nice.
she likes nate, though. she doesn't mind him playing nurse... and speaking of nurses, one already told her she should not get up, so instead, daisy presses a fake button in her implant screen and lets the door slide open to greet him. from her perch on her comfy couch, she calls out: ]
[ Nate slips through the door to see an even more egregiously fancy interior, and he really starts to wonder who Daisy knocked off to get a place this luxurious. ]
I brought chips and queso from around the corner, but now I realize I have no idea if you can eat that in your state.
[ He admits, stepping through the foyer and into the living room, spotting her on the sofa. She looks like crap in the sense that she looks like somebody cut open her head to do some back-alley brain surgery, and he can't help the concerned tug of his lips as he rounds the couch. ]
...Jesus. [ He drops the bag on the coffee table. ] Remind me again why you did this to yourself?
[ she's pale and tired and could honestly use a nap in the medi-unit to heal her back to baseline, but daisy's stubborn and bitter on top of it, so she hasn't. the worst of it is that someone's shaved off all her hair, but she's doing her best to hide that under a slouchy knit cap.
her best isn't very good, though. jyn's promised to pick her up a wig from a fancy shop after work tonight. ]
Long story. Not exactly a fun one to tell. [ she shrugs, reaching for the bag. if she's not supposed to eat chips and queso, too bad. she wants to. ] I used to have superpowers back home, this robo-AI asshole lied to me and said he'd help me get them back if I did him a favor, turns out all he wanted to do was cut out my implant and put it back in to teach me a lesson.
[ Nate's seen a lot in his line of work, but stuff like this is so far beyond his ken it's not even funny. He wishes there was something he could say, or do, to improve the circumstances, but when it comes down to it he simply doesn't have the vocabulary or experience. Which means this is as good a time as any to start getting some.
He seats himself on the sofa next to her, elbows braced on his knees. ]
...so wait, he took it out and put it back? It's still there?
Mm. ( the verbal response may not be the most elaborate, but the lazy nod she offers around a mouthful of chip and dip might do the trick. if not, either way, she'll follow up once she's swallowed, offering: ) Double the fun, I guess. Surgery to take it out, and then another one to put it back in.
( her attitude might be a little too laissez faire to be sincere. it's a weird coping mechanism. conceal, don't feel. )
I had a theory that there was some kind of power inhibitor coded into our implant. It's been done to me before. Apparently not.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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trying to figure out if i can rock the peak crazy britney bald head look or if i need to suck it up and buy a wig
can't believe the future doesn't have magic hair restoration by now, you'd think bald dudes would have demanded a cure
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[ Or a lot. ]
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you sure you're okay?
1/2
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"yeah, that'd be great"
i have beer in the fridge if you want something that doesn't taste like bugs.
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It looks worse if he avoids the subject completely, though. ]
you sure you should be drinking so soon after surgery?
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[ more like dumped into another mystery limo feeling like her insides were about to come out through her mouth. good times at the questionable brain surgery corral. ]
you can pour me another tea when you come over, though, if it makes you feel better.
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all right, shoot me the address.
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have a gps ping, and a verification a moment later that [Bad username or site: nathan @ drake] has been added to the approved visitor's list, today only. ]
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It's nice.
Like, really nice. Uncomfortably so, in a way that makes him think she'd be a one-percenter if she didn't give off the vibes of someone who absolutely gives no fucks about that kind of thing. His access code, whatever she sent, allows him up into the complex, something expansive and glamorous that CEOs from Silicon Valley circa 2015 would drool over.
Not knowing more protocol than what he's always had Nate knocks thrice on the panel door when he finds it, waiting. ]
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it was a joke, honestly.
but it's a nice place to live, and the doorman and the night manager seem to appreciate having four people who appreciate nice things on their tenant list, and daisy doesn't mind sharing the wealth. she lets people come over to swim in the obnoxious infinity lap pool, or to hang out on the rooftop deck; she hosts parties here for the displaced when she can, for christmas or what-have-you, though she's done less of that lately. too many people being assholes makes her less interested in playing nice.
she likes nate, though. she doesn't mind him playing nurse... and speaking of nurses, one already told her she should not get up, so instead, daisy presses a fake button in her implant screen and lets the door slide open to greet him. from her perch on her comfy couch, she calls out: ]
It's open! Did you bring me any snacks?
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I brought chips and queso from around the corner, but now I realize I have no idea if you can eat that in your state.
[ He admits, stepping through the foyer and into the living room, spotting her on the sofa. She looks like crap in the sense that she looks like somebody cut open her head to do some back-alley brain surgery, and he can't help the concerned tug of his lips as he rounds the couch. ]
...Jesus. [ He drops the bag on the coffee table. ] Remind me again why you did this to yourself?
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her best isn't very good, though. jyn's promised to pick her up a wig from a fancy shop after work tonight. ]
Long story. Not exactly a fun one to tell. [ she shrugs, reaching for the bag. if she's not supposed to eat chips and queso, too bad. she wants to. ] I used to have superpowers back home, this robo-AI asshole lied to me and said he'd help me get them back if I did him a favor, turns out all he wanted to do was cut out my implant and put it back in to teach me a lesson.
[ again, asshole. ]
I was wrong. This is what I get for it, I guess.
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He seats himself on the sofa next to her, elbows braced on his knees. ]
...so wait, he took it out and put it back? It's still there?
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( her attitude might be a little too laissez faire to be sincere. it's a weird coping mechanism. conceal, don't feel. )
I had a theory that there was some kind of power inhibitor coded into our implant. It's been done to me before. Apparently not.