riverviewlogs | OPEN | the waves still crash on the bonfire ash.

who: skye & you, hopefully.
what: getting settled? getting hype? what's soon to be the usual, probably.
when: throughout the month of may.
where: city-wide!
warnings: none yet.

✈ in memoriam.

( she doesn't want to mourn. not like this, anyway. skye has too many guilt-laden memories that hang off her ribs to let them free into this city yet; she's half-convinced she'd light too many lanterns and burn the place down. so, instead, she opts to observe. she finds a quiet place off to the side where she can draw 8-bit patterns across the lantern someone had so helpfully placed in her hands and thinks back to all the people she'd left behind.

she draws a pattern on one side, jagged lines that don't quite meet so much as attempt to cross each other out, and hides a name in the blur of ink in the middle. trip, four letters, but they're hard enough to write as it is. another side depicts the layout of the bus, a messy blue print from an untrained hand. the lines are thickest for a square off to the side; not her bedroom, but the sparring room. a place that left her mourning for something that had never been real in the first place. ward. what could have been.

at one point, someone approaches her, lighter in hand and ready to help lift the lantern up into the sky. there's a beat of hesitation before she shakes her head, fingers clutching reflexively over the paper between them. )

No, I think I'm going to keep it, actually.

( is that weird? it might be weird. )

Is that okay?

✈ in officio.

( they offer her a job. well, to be more specific, they tell her to find her own work, which seems a lot more real than anything else thus far. she's not used to having things handed to her, anyway; the idea of having to find her own work seems much more skye than playing cheerful worker drone and just going where they tell her to.

not that she really has to try, anyway. the city seems more than happy to request software codes — mostly inconsequential things, housekeeping projects that likely are a little too blase for anyone they might keep on staff full time, but skye doesn't mind. it puts money in her pocket and boredom on the back burner, the former of which she prefers and the latter of which is probably better for the city.

as a freelancer, though, skye doesn't have an office. there's no official place for someone to meet her or come calling; ultimately, it means that everywhere becomes her office. depending on the day or her mood, she calls a few places "home away from home" — the coffee shops, of course, with their comfortable seating and plentiful selection of baked goods; the local university's library, naturally, and its expansive collection of quiet working tables and reference materials; and in a twist, the local gym, where skye can scout for someone she might want to approach after hours, in the hopes of filling up all that precious free time.

she thinks may might even be proud of her for that. sparring voluntarily? who would have thought. not skye, that's for damn certain, but she's trying new things. like talking to people, for one. such as: )

Hey — ( hey you, no, that's rude. ) — listen, can you hand me that?

( "it" could be anything. a lamp, a book, a muffin someone dropped on the ground. go crazy. get weird. make things happen. )

✈ wildcard.

( y'all probably know the drill. if you want something particular, please shoot me a pm and let me know! ♥ )

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ Finn experiences what the kids would call an "oh worm" moment. He sort of ended up doing the same thing with his at the last second. Maybe not for all the same reasons-- it's hard to be sure with these things.

Mourning is new. He's not sure if he really feels it yet. He just knows he looked down at his lantern when someone offered to help send it off, and everything on there didn't feel like enough. Maybe it never will. ]

If it's not okay, no one's told me that.

[ Finn hovers in kind of a weird vicinity. Like a 'prepared to help ward off a mob of people who for some reason have suddenly decided that no, all the lanterns need to be lit Right Now' vicinity. Even though everyone is either wrapped up with their own thoughts or respectfully backing up to give her more time already. There's no way that PVPing is gonna be necessary. ]

( so he doesn't know what the rules are either. she's grateful, at least, for that. in a city where the answers seem to be obscured, everyone seems to be — if it's possible to be — just about as messed up and confused as skye feels. which is, if nothing else, a small consolation prize. nobody thus far has given her any real answers, anyway, which makes her feel a little bit better about not having a fucking clue most days of the week.

like now, with the seemingly mission critical lantern mix-up. which is important, too, since mourning seems to be a collective thing here. more so than in the almost sterile world of the bus, anyway. there, everyone around her had been so much better at compartmentalizing and containing and generally Dealing With Shit. it's kind of nice to not be the only confused person in a literal or metaphorical room every now and again. )

Yeah, I kind of got the vibe that full explanations aren't exactly a thing here.

( which isn't his fault, by any means, so there's no real bitterness to her tone. instead, it's punctuated by a quiet, almost sardonic laugh that just barely passes for genuine; after a moment, skye shakes her head and tucks her pen into her back pocket for safekeeping. )

So. ( she could sit here and continue to dwell on all the reasons she decided to etch out her recent life story... or she could not do that. guess which option skye chooses? ) Want to swap sad stories, or... is that too much for a first date?

( she's kidding. unless, you know. he wants it to be. )

[ The city's not a particularly terrible place. The people are friendly enough, the holidays are... interesting. There's an awful lot that gets left up to figuring it out as you go, though. Finn still can't say he feels like he's got the hang of it. He offers an amused huff, a brief smile. ]

I may not get out much, but even I know a bad date idea when I hear one. [ No wait. ] Not that I'm saying. I mean, you know. [ He clears his throat and makes some kind of floppy hand gesture, which he's pretty sure has never necessarily emphasized whatever point he's making. It just makes him feel more like he knows what he's about. ]

Most of the stories I've heard have been pretty complicated.

( she smiles, despite herself; it's the soft quirk at the corner of her mouth that betrays her amusement. it's the backtrack, really. the gentle fumbling over words is human, and skye appreciates that little bit of humanity. it makes her feel at home — a feeling she definitely doesn't take for granted. )

It's okay. No offense taken. ( a brief pause to let the smile bloom a bit, warm and reassuring in his direction, and skye continues. ) Kind of nice to not be the only person not totally Mission Ready, you know? Like it's okay to just be figuring it out.

( her fingertips trace over the lantern, following the path of her pen; there's a lot of stories intertwined in those tracings, but she's not sure they're really anybody else's idea of a good time. )

You're not wrong, though. Avril Lavigne basically wrote my soundtrack.

[ He doesn't know who Avril Lavigne is, and it probably shows. But the overall spirit of what she says, he finds pretty relatable.

Feeling alone's never been his forte. ]

City's not a bad place for figuring things out. I'm still figuring out most things. [ Does he know anyone who he believes just... knows what they're doing all the time? He doesn't think so. ] Especially this stuff.

It's weird, I guess. The idea that people just... talk about the shit that happened to them, you know? ( she's trying to imagine somebody like may or ward just sitting down and spilling their emotional guts to total strangers. it's a ridiculous thought. ) People don't do that. I don't know anybody who does that.

( no, skye. normal, well-adjusted people approach holidays or festivities like these with the ability to share with others. they may not choose the absolute worst day of their lives, but they can commiserate with others. they can be open. she can't, though. at least not to this extent, not on demand. so she changes the subject, because that seems like a safe bet. )

But you — you've probably figured something out here, right? Like a good taco joint, or where to freeload wifi, or how to smuggle snacks into a movie theatre...

[ He's happy to roll with the subject change. Partly because she seems to want to roll with it and partly because... yeah, it does sort of venture towards the emotional vulnerability with a stranger road. Finn has six-month-long friendships where he still hasn't mentioned anything about where he's from.

That all aside? He doesn't like to push. ]

I know a waffle place. [ Literally only one. ] Couple of good trails to run on. If you need a stun gun or anything, there are a few places to check out. I don't see a lot of movies, so. Still working on the snacks.

[ The day he learns to rig up a jacket lining is the day he claims his ultimate victory. ]

I can work with waffles. Are we talking der waffle haus or an IHOP-esque 'we think we know how to make waffles but we should have stuck with pancakes' place here?

( obviously the former is the preference, but beggars can't be choosers. as for stun guns... )

Oh, and are all the phasers set to stun here? Because I kind of get the vibe that this place isn't quite as calm as the welcome video claims, and I didn't bring my standard issue with me.

( and she'd like to be prepared, if being prepared is something she needs to be. there wouldn't need to be a perimeter guard if things were always calm and composed, after all. )

It's not all stunners. You have to jump through a few more hoops for blasters or guns, but you can get them. The welcome video doesn't cover everything.

[ Even if a lot of the danger lies past the wall at the perimeter, things have a way of happening. Whether it's the nature of the quarantine or because he knows people who have a way of getting into trouble, who can say. ]

And I didn't know what waffles were before I got here. You might have to tell me if they're good for waffles or not. I'm not gonna change my mind about them, but it's worth knowing.

Hoops I can do. ( a beat. ) Jumping through them, anyway. Basketball's not really my thing. I missed a couple growth spurts, you know?

( he probably doesn't know. he doesn't even know what waffles are! or didn't, anyway. his poor sheltered existence probably never enjoyed a harlem globe trotter spinning a basketball or slam dunking some nba washout. what a shame. )

Anyway. ( save the poor dude from overthinking basketball, skye is a real hero. ) Yeah, sign me up for hoop-jumping, and take me to der waffle haus. I'll teach you the ways of the waffle, young man, and you will learn.

( she's so funny. isn't she funny? it's okay if you don't think she's funny, finn. )

OPEN | the waves still crash on the bonfire ash.

in memoriam.

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