Heather Mason (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sweetmotherofgod) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
ataraxion2012-09-10 10:25 am
sweetmotherofgod) wrote in ataraxion2012-09-10 10:25 am
video + conscription
[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.]
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.]
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We need to start chargin'.
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oh yeah video gj self
[Is he serious? Is he kidding? It's pretty hard to tell either way despite the video.]
lmao video it is then
Punish the whole floor, and let them know who the cause is so they sort it out themselves? Jeez. You'd make one hell of a tyrant.
Kind of a hot one, though.
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[Heather, this uncomfortable pause-and-flush is not the one you are looking for.]
Guess y'never read Max Havelaar. [And then his head is ducked slightly to the side and he's clearing his throat before shooting her a twisted grin back in an attempt to shirk it off and move onto flirting.]
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Never did. You gonna tell me about him?
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He's - the main character of the book, kinda. Named after him. He's a Dutch official in Nederlands-Ind- uh, Indonesia - 'round when she was my colony.
[This is the pause where he grabs a cigarette. So about that one hell of a tyrant thing...]
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[Grinning as she says it though, because she's pretty sure she knows. And she'll play ball, even if she does like it when he starts with the history stuff.]
Or are you just hoping I'm gonna circle back to the hot thing?
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Yeah. Do that an' I'll keep going.
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Damn. I was hoping you'd put that out again and have to keep trying. Your hands are indecent, you know.
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[...he looks up, raises a brow, and waves his smoke around. That? Mid-wave the full brunt of her statement hits and he's back to sucking on smoke like he'll breathe out a story in return.]
Right. [Ahem. Colonialism. Not exactly sexy to modern sensibilities, and not really something he wants her to hear but she did ask.]
The VOC owned Indië before my government did. [And the way he says "owned Indië"? He's said that thousands of times.] They gave it up 'cause they weren't makin' enough. I - we made it profitable again.
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And your scar. I know that's old hat, chicks liking scars, but what do you want me to do? It's hot.
[Insert nonchalant shrug. Which her tiny creeping blush is on no way detracting from, okay? Okay.]
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And while he might have a matching flush, only part of it is due to what she's saying; the rest is because he has to suck on his cigarette and say this:]
We, uh. Started up a system - made 'em grow a quota of the most profitable crops, didn't matter what they needed t'grow. To live, I mean. It was kinda normal, then. Make your colonies grow whatever makes the most money an' look the other way.
[He takes a drag and NOPE gonna keep going.]
My tax agents got paid by commission. It - [Yeah that got ugly.] - it stopped, but I didn't let her go until Japan took her from me.
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--nope. There's no shape she can fold this into that doesn't make it totally, totally skeevy.
On the other hand, he seems completely aware of the grossness of it but he's not trying to hide it. If the time for their little stuff-I-find-attractive-about-you game wasn't well and truly over, that kind of honesty would've topped the list.]
Okay, so the tyrant thing's a little been there done that. Point taken.
Thanks for telling me, though.
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Worst part is? He'd still pull it here, and he knows it.
All he ends up managing is an awkward shift in his seat and a weak-sounding]
Yeah.
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Hey, I got another volunteer, though. Doesn't even come with any pets attached, so that's something.
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Doesn't matter, he's glad to talk shop and think on it later.]
What kind.
[Fuck, he wants to sound curious, or disdainful even, but he's just tired. Who is it, and will they leave.]
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[Sure is avoiding anything they just talked about. No, she doesn't get it, but it still makes her uncomfortable. She doesn't know if he knows who Percy is -- hell, she's not sure he knows who Simon is -- but she'll happily explain if it keeps them off colonialism.]
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[He makes the effort to tilt the video up to his face, just to look down to give her the flattest look ever. None of that meant a damned thing to him, and while he likes that she's lured in someone... he swipes a hand over his face and shoves the feed straight into his bedcovers. For whatever reason he suddenly doesn't want her seeing him. Or doesn't want to look at her, one.]
You try t'train him.
[It'll come across muffled and he knows it.]
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Yeah. I signed him on, so I guess he's my responsibility.
I'll, uh... I'll let you know how it goes.
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I can. [There's a slap of his wrist smacking across his eyelids, and the shadow of a few fingers in the way of the camera.] Or you can.
[One part implication that he thinks she's nearly just as good as he is, now, and one part done with this shit.]
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[She can't quite bring herself to ask are you okay, sure it'd go down like a lead balloon.]
You should take a break.
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But it's an odd situation and for once he's more than willing to listen to the tone (concern) more than the words, to subsequently pawn a job (responsibility, trust that they won't fuck it up), off to someone else - that very same person - and in this case, after a few long breaths, he hands it over.
Trust, huh, trying that out again.]
Right. [Another sigh.] You do it, then.
[And he ends that, there.]