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[versusnurture]

Who: Abigail Hobbs and u
Broadcast: Fleetwide
Action: Starstruck
When: 9/23, eveningish

[All things considered, this is actually a pretty good witness protection program. How are the police going to find her in space? And she didn't even have to die this time. It's probably the best kidnapping she's ever experienced.]

[Admittedly, she did spend some time wondering if this was the same thing again, if, somehow, doing what needed done had sent her back to the Barge, qualified her as an inmate again. But those were very fleeting concerns - first, because she knows what she did was just, and second, because this is nothing like the Barge, which looks disorganized on the surface but pulls together in crisis. The Fleet looks quite organized, with its shiny ships and perfect synchronization, but she has a suspicion that when shit hits the fan, everything falls apart.]

[That remains to be seen. The point is that she's learned from the last two times; she neither presents a face immediately nor gives herself away immediately, choosing instead to spend her time on the Marsiva and her first few days on the Starstruck settling in, going over the comms, gathering what information can be gathered. Only then does she step out into common spaces.]

[She pays particular attention to the cargo hold, where she deliberately and conspicuously practices some of the flashier moves Harvey taught her - although flash does not preclude precision, because she is very good at what she does. She also spends a lot of time in the kitchen, hanging out but also inspecting; she doesn't like the processed nature of the food provided, and she spends some time looking for an ingredients label before giving up.]

[When she eventually sets up a broadcast, it's in the kitchen, as well, futuristic cabinets lined up behind her head as she seems to focus somewhere slightly off-camera. For the record: the giant scar on her neck is totally visible, as is the fact that she only has one ear.]

It's sort of funny to me that when people come to a place like this, they either introduce themselves with a lot of questions or a lot of yelling. If anybody wants to answer my questions, that would be pretty hospitable of you, but I got tired of answering them after a while, so. It's not compulsory.

If anybody would rather perform an exchange, I can do that, too. Quid pro quo. My name is Abigail Hobbs. I come from Earth - Bloomington, Minnesota, originally, which I bet none of you have ever heard of - and I spent a couple of years in a place sort of like this, only not at all. My hobbies are hunting, fishing, cooking, and reading poetry. Once I wanted to be a psychiatrist.

The rest of it, you have to earn.

Comments

[truthvalue]

I don't know if it's a question of right or wrong ... I think it probably depends on the person, and the circumstances.

[I am. It shows in all the slight ways he hesitates, his tendency toward downcast gazes, the invisible walls that surround him even while he performs the motions of the expected social interactions. Guilty; guilty; guilty.]

People feel different things for different reasons.

[versusnurture]

[She sees this, too. And it makes her sad. Fly away, little bird; don't feel guilty over things you had to do.]

There's a power in violence. [This quiet, contemplative - an offering.] You just have to watch yourself to make sure you don't enjoy it too much.

I'd listen to your reasons, if you wanted to tell me. I'm a very good listener.

[truthvalue]

[There is power in violence, and control, too. The demon Kingpin was well-versed in both, and Souji still remembers what it was like to be him, the consuming emptiness that he sought to fill with power of all flavors. He remembers the first tease of a kiss made to draw out words he wanted to hear from the object of his attention. He remembers grinning viciously as bursts of electricity seared through the body of a frightened girl. It's not the same as what happened with Namatame, but - where does violence stop, once it's engaged?

The mask of practiced amiability slides back into place.]

That's a very kind offer. But I don't have anything like that to talk about, [he lies.]

[versusnurture]

You're lying.

[This isn't - accusatory, just factual. She tips her head at the camera a little, and what's in her expression isn't revulsion, exactly, more pity. It's sad to her that he hasn't owned his monstrosity, whatever it is.]

The offer stands, anyway. If you decide you want it. But we can talk about something else now.

[truthvalue]

[It's different than with Adachi, this being called out on the lie; again, Souji can't shake the feeling that maybe she's able to see straight into him, maybe through some magical power. But she isn't hostile about it, and she doesn't push for the truth, and he's grateful for that, being allowed to keep domain over his secrets, so he doesn't pull away like he would otherwise.]

What do you like to cook?

[versusnurture]

Oh.

[And that's a good memory; it calls a smile to her face, and she remembers lunch shifts in the kitchens with Ben at her shoulder.]

All kinds of things. Where I was before here - that's where I learned to cook. We had people from all over, and I mean all over, but we mostly made Earth food. Lots of French, some Italian, some American standards. Not much Japanese, though.

[truthvalue]

[He smiles, too, because she's smiling, and smiling - a true smile, a gesture born from something pleasant, not a social obligation - can be infectious.]

I could probably show you, sometime. If you wanted to learn.

[versusnurture]

Yes!

[It's an outburst more than just an affirmative - yes, yes she does, she wants her learning to continue, she never wants to stop learning. Especially if it's a continuation of what Ben taught her, an extension of his memory, that's beautiful, that's something she wants.]

[But she frowns slightly in the next moment, remembering something else.]

But I don't know if - all the food I've found so far is processed. Space food. If you can, though, I want to.

[truthvalue]

I'm pretty good at improvising.

[It's a survival skill, developed from years of long nights alone and fending for himself.]

The principles should be the same, even if the ingredients aren't perfect.

[versusnurture]

It's just chemistry, isn't it?

[She remembers Ben over the stove, explaining it to her, how these two things together will taste good but these won't, making breakfast for dinner.]

Chemistry and art.

[truthvalue]

That's right.

[He nods.]

Only it's better, because when you're done, you get to eat.

[versusnurture]

[She grins at that, a smile she wouldn't have been able to pull off a couple of years ago.]

That's the best kind of art.

What are you going to teach me to make?

[truthvalue]

Hmm ...

[He takes a moment to think, to remember what was easy for him to learn at first, to consider what lends itself to variability of ingredients.]

We could start with croquettes. You can make them with just about anything.

[He finds himself smiling in response again, drawn in by the grin she gives him.]

[versusnurture]

[Croquettes - she knows what they are, but not how to make them. Another thing she knows: they're very simple, so Hannibal would hate them. This satisfies her, and her grin widens.]

Croquettes are French, not Japanese, aren't they? I didn't realize your skills were so international.

[truthvalue]

Ah, we have them in Japan, too. They're a little different - mostly potatoes and vegetables ... they probably don't have anything like tonkatsu sauce here, so we'd have to try something else.

[He nods, again repeats:] Improvise.

[versusnurture]

I'm good at improvising.

[Crafty. The word is crafty. Like a goddamn fox.]

The person who taught me . . . [Boy isn't right, man isn't right, warden would take too much explaining.] He needed to follow recipes, mostly. He needed order and organization. But it would be great to expand that. Maybe if I ever see him again, I can, I don't know, flambe something for him.

[truthvalue]

Fire usually makes an impression.

[He smiles quietly, but there's a flash of memory there, too - a rooftop, drawing close to a blond figure clad in black, teaching how to control power over living flame. His eyes cloud over with remembering, briefly, then he gives a light shake of his head and it's gone again.]

[versusnurture]

[She cocks her head curiously at that, watching him with care but without the piercing intensity she displayed earlier. He's earned that level of respect, at least for now; if she happens to need something from him later, she'll push harder, but for now she gives him space.]

I used to know a guy . . . the last place I was . . . he was all fire. Literally. The impression he made was of somebody angry and lost - angry to cover up how lost he was. But I don't think he made that impression on everyone.

That's the thing about fire. It's always moving and changing, and nobody sees the exact same shape in it that someone else does.

. . . None of that really has to do with what you're saying. It just made me think of him.

[truthvalue]

That's all right. I don't mind listening.

[There's the smile again, small and polite. He doesn't mind, not really - it's just reflex for him, around other people, to keep putting on that expression.]

Is that the same person who taught you how to cook?

[versusnurture]

Oh, no. [She laughs a little.] He didn't teach me to cook - I think he used to have people to do that for him.

No, he taught me about . . . business.

[truthvalue]

You don't seem like a businesswoman.

[versusnurture]

No? What do I seem like?

[truthvalue]

[SHRUG.]

Not a businesswoman. But I could be wrong, I guess - I don't know you very well.

[versusnurture]

First impressions say a lot. You should trust your instincts more.

[truthvalue]

In that case, my instincts says "not a businesswoman."