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» 3rd lemoncake

Who: Sansa Stark and YOU.
Broadcast: Fleetwide video.
Action: Come find her on the Blue Fish!
When: Today!

[ the first time nyssa al ghul misses their weekly appointment, sansa chalks it up to circumstance. something came up; she must be a busy woman, and cannot be in all places at all times. but then a second week goes by with no notice, and when sansa attempts to reach her on nyssa's frequency, all she gets is static. then, dead air.

it takes her a few days to talk herself into addressing the fleet at large, but reasons that should anything have happened to her friend -- well, someone ought to know. so a solemn-faced young woman with copper roots showing flickers onto the communications devices. ]

Nyssa al Ghul hasn't answered any messages -- not for some time, I don't think. [ she swallows. her mouth feels dry. like she can guess the reason already, but refuses to believe it. her words are suffused with worry and sadness. ] I-is she well? Has something happened to her? It might be the crew of the Red Fish have some knowledge of where she is. Please, has anyone spoken to her of late? Seen her?

[ today, she wears the gold bracelets and the intricate hair-pins nyssa once gifted to her. sansa tries to persuade herself she's not wearing them in memory of a lost friend. ]

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[Knowing you'll never see someone again, regardless of the way you lost them, never hurts any less. So Steve's expression flickers once - grimly - and then settles into something neutral. He's skimmed the rest of the messages, enough to confirm the sorry truth, and so--]

I'm sorry for your loss.

[It's a platitude, but a genuine one. He'll miss her too.]

[ he isn't the first strange to reach out but -- but he's a strong-looking man. and sansa first attempts to decode the sincerity in his reply.

still guarded, she asks: ] Do you know her? Are you friends?

[ -- she cannot wrap her tongue around the past tense. ]

[She's young, and cautious. He reacts to that unselfconsciously, ducks his head and hunches his shoulders slightly. Trying to seem smaller than he is. It's an old instinct, but he's never quite shed the skin of it.]

I'm Steve Rogers. And yes, we are. I met her during the Calibrations a while back.

[ his answer goes some way to putting her at ease -- although you'd never know it by the look of her. schooled expression and cool eyes. deep blue, but they might as well be frosty. ]

Sansa. [ she offers -- offering only the bare minimum. ] Sansa Stark.

[The surname gets... a moment's pause, but there's too much disparity between the way she's speaking and the world he's hailed from, so-- probably no relation to the Stark he knows. Instead, she gets a nod.]

Miss Stark. It's nice to meet you.

[ she swallows her protest. lady stark -- for a 'miss' is more common, she reasons. but that's a logic that hasn't been welcome within the fleet, and sansa knows nothing if she does not know how to hold her tongue in the face of rebuke.

instead: ] Thank you. I met Nyssa at the same time, I believe. Those -- places of the mind. All that confusion was beginning just as I joined this fleet.

I got in around the same time.

[He offers that a bit awkwardly. Steve and casual conversation go together about like peanut-butter and bleach, but there's no reason not to try. Nyssa was - is, he's sure - a good judge of character.]

Wasn't easy, but it looks like you've done all right for yourself.

[He says that gently, the tiniest shift in his inflection to make it almost a question after her welfare. She's so damn young, but kids can and do often resent the care.]

[ it isn't care she resents, but the sneaking suspicion that what looks like care might (in fact) be maliciousness. this isn't steve's fault; by now, kindness is a thing always worthy of her doubt and skepticism. ]

The Blue Fish is a kind ship. I'm fortune to be with them. [ and my brothers. ] I pray you are so fortunate in your own placement, ser.

[His smile goes crooked at one corner, no less genuine.]

I have been.

[Being here's just about the best thing that's happened to him in seventy years. He knows, logically, it won't last. One day he'll wake up and Peg will've gone back to 1946, or Jim to his own universe of parallel lines, or Buck. But he'll fight for what time he's been given.]

I... ah, I won't keep you. But I'm one of the pilots on the Bloodsport if you ever-- [flounder] need anything. Our captain doesn't mind folks dropping by.

[Nyssa'd been over once or twice for Sunday dinner, but it feels awkward to make that offer in her memory, so he leaves it at that.]

[ bloodsport. what a terribly maudlin name. but even without such an omen, she'd be inclined to refuse his invitation. sansa's jaw twitches -- she's chewing over her words. once upon a time, she might have smiled and lied through her teeth. yes ser, thank you ser, i'll keep that in mind ser.

but now? ]

How generous of you. But apologies, ser, I would prefer not to leave my ship. But your invitation is appreciated all the same.

[The misstep occurs too late, and Steve has the good sense not to visibly grimace. She's already guarded around men, an invitation to his ship probably wasn't the brightest idea he's ever had.

'Generous'. It's like a knife's edge.]

That's fair. Good luck, Miss Stark.

May the Seven keep you safe. [ a soft and sincere farewell. albeit wordy. her attention remains downcast -- a little like a chastised pup, although he'd been nothing but kind to her. perhaps it's because she's disappointed in herself. unable to read another person's kindness, she despairs in how quickly she refuses what might be good for her.

nyssa, she thinks, would be vexed by such weakness. and perhaps that's the only reason she says anything else: ] For what it's worth, ser, I am also sorry for your loss.

I--

[He hadn't expected it, and that's what catches him off guard. He can't even say anything reassuring, like, she'll be better off at home, because he can't say for certain that's where she's gone, or that it's at all good for her.

But it takes a certain strength of character to offer consolations in the midst of one's own grief, and he's not about to do anything to devalue that sentiment, nor the effort involved in saying so. Especially given the fact that his very attention is unsettling to her.]

Thank you. She'll be missed.

[He'll leave it at that. He's not going to push, though if she keeps talking he'll do the same.]

One question, ser, before I leave you to your business. [ it's just -- it's just she's begun to chat out a hang-up, of sorts, with another friend of nyssa's. and it's left a hankering in her stomach. ] Do you know about Baklava?

[ nyssa brought it to her appointments with sansa every week. and sansa never bothered to learn how it was made, because she never thought it would be important. childishly, she wonders whether another acquaintance of that same woman might hold the key. ]

[She's asking for Nyssa's recipe, he realizes with only a faint, considering pause. She'd brought it over to serve as dessert to the dinner he'd prepared once. Carefully,]

She was kind enough to share some with me, but the dish itself is native to my world if that's what you're asking.

I hoped I might find some recipe for it. Without her here, I'll not -- [ oh, that sounds selfish. as though it's the baklava she misses, and not nyssa herself. sansa frowns. ]

Eating it -- sharing it -- with someone will be something I'll miss.

[That faint smile's back.]

For me it was a bag of potato chips. Out of a vending machine. She'd asked me what was good, I told her my favourite type.

[It's his way of saying, he gets it. Food brings people together, and sharing it has always been a matter of importance to a skinny punk that grew up in the Depression.]

I know a couple recipes from back home [he watches the cooking channel when he can't sleep, because it's so completely devoid of all the elements to life that keep him keyed up. He never has been able to stand war movies.] and I could probably get one close to hers. It... wouldn't be the same, but I'd be happy to send some over with a crewmate. Do you know anyone on the Bloodsport?

[Unspoken, you'd be comfortable with.]

[ potato chips sound like such common food. but who is she to judge? when winter comes, no food is common and all is scarce. and the sharing of a meal is the most core principle of hospitality. the guest right resonates. ]

N-no, ser. Not a one. [ she thinks to herself for a moment. ] But if he's willing, I could send my brother to receive it.

[ and robb could survey the blood sport -- and ser steve rogers -- for himself. ]

All right. Give me about-- [he works his jaw off to one side in thought. The cooking time alone is nearly an hour, and he might have to make a run to the station for supplies he still thankfully has money for.] -- four hours, I'll have something pulled together by then.

[Which also gives him a margin of error in case the first recipe doesn't turn out. He likes cooking well enough it's no hardship to spend the evening in the kitchen.]

Ser!

[ she's (almost) horrified. ] The matter isn't so urgent as that. Please, take your time. I do not wish you to feel rushed.

Ah-- It's no trouble, I promise.

[He ducks his head a little, a bit uncomfortable with having made her some facsimile of distressed.]

I do most of the cooking for my crew anyway, and I was planning on making enough for them, too.

[Alternate title: 'Steve Rogers is the Only Adult'.]

-- Are you their cook?

[ the blue fish just gained a cook, much to everyone's relief. ]

Nah. I just enjoy it.

[The sheer amount of spice available in the 21^st century hasn't yet ceased to impress him. When rationing was on, they were lucky if they had sugar or salt to flavour their meals.]

[ odd. ]

They must be very grateful for your pursuits and enjoyments.

[He's a commoner, Sansa, what do you expect. Wait until you hear about how he darns his own socks.]

Haven't had too many complaints. And, ah-- before I forget, what's your brother's name? So I know to let him dock.

» 3rd lemoncake

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