video + conscription

[sweetmotherofgod]

[Passengers who've met Heather before might notice she's a bit paler and a bit darker around the eyes than usual. Passengers who haven't are about to get a charming introduction, if it's delivered in a slightly flatter, wearier tone than her usual.]

Been a while since I've done one of these, so I should probably introduce myself. Heather Mason. I'm a double-oh-two and I work in the gardens, which is why I'm speaking to you today.

The oxygen gardens are what keep us all breathing and eating stuff that doesn't come in a vacuum pack. They're not a petting zoo. There are four of us trying to keep that place running and it's hard enough without worrying about the crops getting eaten or kicked over or people's pets trying to kill each other. So here's the deal: You're keeping something in the gardens? Drugs, pets, livestock. Dinosaurs. Congratulations. Now you work there. I don't want to hear any bitching, either. We all depend on the oxygen gardens to keep us alive, so if you're taking more out of them than anybody else, you need to put more in.

Oh, and if what you've got in there might cause damage to what someone else has there? It's your job to make sure that doesn't happen, not anybody else's. Come on.

[She'd add that the people she's just conscripted should contact her for details but... well, they might take that as an invitation not to.]

Comments

voice;

[meal]

[Quietly, carefully, Edyne presses audio and waits a moment to ask.]

Are they all pets?

[She's unused to that word, and it takes a subtle effort to speak it. Usually it's meant to be less than flattering.]

voice;

[sweetmotherofgod]

I'm not sure I'd call a cow a pet, but they're all spoken for, if that's what you mean. Least, I'm not aware of anything that got there on its own. Were you looking for something?

[and because in this place, who knows?]

Or someone?

[meal]

Oh, no - I was just wondering. [Her voice is only a little unsteady when she begins, then it grows quieter.] I saw many animals, when I woke up.

[sweetmotherofgod]

Yeah, there's a lot of them around. More every jump.

[Oh, she's so quiet. Angry as Heather is at everything ever right now, it makes her feel bad for the tirade and she lowers her own voice in response.]

Keep a secret? I actually kinda like them. It makes the place seem a little less sinister, you know? I'm just getting tired of having to pick my way around piles of crap every time I'm in the gardens.

You're new, right?

[meal]

[Edyne would gladly offer to help Heather, but the stress she inherently causes in animals makes her assistance more unproductive than otherwise. That same factor is keeping her away from the gardens - she'd be much too exposed if and when she altered their behavior - added to the inconvenience of her... being their natural predator. Where comes from, at least.

Still, Edyne feels sympathy for the other girl. She'd seen how the others from Tristan's clan were serious about one's responsibility over the creatures they kept - including her - and grew up with nothing but respect for them, even after they cast her out.]

I'm sure they're wonderful company, despite the hard work. I hope you find the help you need. [There's the suggestion of a little laugh in her tone, then she becomes a more aware of herself.] Oh, yes - my number is ten, forty, and my name is Eden. Eden Knight.

[sweetmotherofgod]

Eden Knight. Religious parents? I mean, it's a great name, good sound to it, but whoa.

Where're you from? If you don't mind me asking.

[meal]

Oh, yes - [Her answer is rushed, but a smile is very much implied, if a little sheepishly.] Very religious.

[It was Tristan who told her to use his last name and arrange a more common one for herself, and pose as his sister while they were among strangers. Needless to say she takes a bit of his history to build up her own as well.]

From northern Europe, although I could not tell you where my hometown is - I am a nomad. [That much is true, at least.] I was living in Queda before I came here.

[sweetmotherofgod]

[Nomad, huh?

"Dad, are we homeless?"

"Sweetie, no. We're... we're nomads."

The word makes her laugh quietly; it brings back memories of what should have been a very hard time but to seven-year-old Heather seemed like an adventure. And adventure in crappy motel rooms and avoiding the police, sure, but that's the power of ~*~imagination~*~, or whatever.]

Queda? I'm gonna sound so ignorant, but I don't know it. Is that in Spain?

[meal]

[There were no crappy motel rooms for Edyne, but the majority of her life was spent avoiding both the authorities and those who went against them alike.]

Oh, no - you don't sound ignorant at all, Heather. [And she sounds earnest in turn, continuing shortly after.] Queda is situated between Spain and Portugal. [There's a bit of a helpless pause.] Perhaps if I had a map I could show you where it is, specifically.

[Except it... probably wouldn't be on one.]