[LOG] I don't need a new love or a new life [OPEN]

[myfavoritemurder]

Who: Callisto AND YOU
When: Mid-November
Where: Various places around town!
Summary: A feral warlord arrives in town and is about to make that everybody else's problem.
Warnings: N/A at the moment; will edit if that changes

A; ARRIVAL; OTA

[Callisto pops up in what she imagines to be some sort of shrine. It's unadorned and impersonal, giving her no hint about what god it's dedicated to, but there are basins to place offerings in and segregated booths for private contemplation, so she's pretty sure her initial guess is right on the money. For a long moment, she's still: her hand braced against the wall, and her eyes squeezed shut against the harsh bright light. Her head swims. Her legs nearly buckle.

But then she pushes through it. Despite the weakness and disorientation, she pushes off the wall and spins for the door, one hand on the hilt of the dagger in her belt. She's dressed head to toe in leather armor, wearing a sword strapped to her back, and to say she looks out of place would be an understatement - but there's no hint of self-consciousness to her as she strides down the hall, boots clicking on the hard floor.]

Who are you?

[She snaps at the first person she sees - though she is, of course, still speaking Ancient Greek by this point.]

What have you done with me?

B; ADJUSTMENTS; OTA

[The next several hours are an absolute whirlwind, and one that's more exhausting than energizing. Believing everything she's told, at least, isn't a problem: for a woman who comes from a world filled to the brim with gods and magic, ADI's explanation sounds perfectly reasonable to her. Being recruited, however, is a little more hairy. "Sure, I'll help you with your little apocalypse problem," she says to the ADI rep who does her intake. "But you'll have to do some things for me in return." And when they don't immediately promise to harness their considerable power and technology to help her destroy Xena, she balks. Hard.

It takes time, but a tentative agreement is reached. ADI might be unnecessarily squeamish about the idea of aiding and abetting her vengeance plans, but they do seem to be her best shot at returning home, and so she agrees to fight for them - reluctantly, and with strong conviction that she's getting the short end of the stick here, but she's faced down more hopeless-looking situations. She's sure she'll eventually find some way to leverage this one in her favor, too.

But honestly, the big-picture stuff is the easy part. It's the day to day stuff that's disorienting. Powerful, mysterious beings and travel between worlds is far easier for her to wrap her head around than a thin, hard rectangle that everyone insists isn't magic, even though it somehow holds currency and keeps track of her finances for her. And yet it's not long before she sees it in action, because after finishing up with all the preliminary introductions, the very first thing they do is hustle her off to find more "suitable" clothes - an idea that she dismisses as unnecessary only before they leave the building and hit the cold winter air. Others might encounter her on the street outside a clothing store, right after her very first car ride, leaning her forehead against the brick outer wall of the building and waiting for the waves of nausea to pass. Soon after, she can be found inside the clothing store itself, sorting through everything with a perplexed and critical eye. Coaxing her to pick up anything other than a winter coat and some snow pants might be a bit of a struggle.

ADI Housing is next, and after making sure she knows which apartment has been assigned to her, this is where the intake folks finally leave her to find her way on her own. For the next few hours, she just wanders, paying zero mind to the difference between public and private spaces. She investigates the gym and the laundry room (final verdict: complete and utter mysteries), but if anyone is prone to leaving their apartment door unlocked, they might also find her inside, poking through their stuff.

She is, on the whole, on the subdued side of things this evening, skulking around rather than stomping around. She rests in common areas, sitting on the floor, glaring unprompted at anyone who passes by. And when late evening comes and she starts hearing talk of the guards locking the doors soon, she heads for the exit - slipping out, rather than in, before curfew hits. Bundled up in her new coat and ski pants, she aimlessly wanders the downtown streets for a few hours, seeking out nothing in particular, simply getting the lay of the land. Bus stops end up being of particular interest to her, and though she never tries to board a bus herself, she always stops when she sees one coming, watching the passenger disembarkation and embarkation process with a vague sort of interest.]

Where do they go?

[She asks out loud, if there's anyone standing near her.]

What's the farthest anyone has ever traveled on one?

[They too must be magic, she reasons - maybe even mysterious and not well understood, like the forces that brought her here. If she gets on the right one, she wonders, will it whisk her away across worlds?]

C; ROOMMATES; CLOSED TO EMILY DYER

[When she's told that she's being assigned an apartment, Callisto initially dismisses the idea. She has little use for indoor spaces, particularly when it comes to living in them: she hasn't lived in a house since she was a teenager and hasn't felt at home in one since she was a child, and she doesn't see either of those things ever changing.

But once she gets a load of this world's climate, the indoors ends up being a bit more appealing, and she does have some level of curiosity about... well. All of this, honestly. This means that when Emily comes home, she'll find an unfamiliar winter coat and pair of snow pants spread out to dry on the living room floor, and a leather-clad stranger in the apartment kitchen, fiddling with the stove burners. She's got one lit at full blast, and is leaning in close, examining the writing on the control panel.]

Do you use these to cook?

[She asks, by way of greeting.]

Comments

clothing store

[bossyboiler]

[ Kate is on the hunt for a pair of winter boots. She needs something that will provide insulation for the wet and snowy months that are to come. She is mostly content to mind her own business.

It's as she's trying on a different pair of brown boots that Callisto catches her eye. Kate stops what she's doing to look at her. They are either new in the ADI sense of the word or they are an LARPer gone rogue. Either way, Kate help but to ask... ]

Are you okay?

[myfavoritemurder]

No.

[Says Callisto, because there's no chance that she's ever going to answer that question in any other way, regardless of situation or context. She's one aisle over, flicking irritably through a rack of long-sleeved t-shirts, not bothering to pull out any to actually try on.]

Do people wear these? They don't look like you could mend them without them falling apart.

[bossyboiler]

[ She's not okay. Okay. Maybe she's just cold? Or maybe Kate needs to get her head out of her behind and realize soon that Callisto is new-new. ]

That's a problem on this planet. They call it fast-fashion. It's not meant to be mended but thrown away instead.

[ Not liking how the boots on her feet feel, Kate takes them off and puts them back into their box. That box then goes onto a stack. She doesn't like to leave a mess for others to clean up. Kate stands and puts back the boots that she has definitely decided against. ]

Are you looking for something warm?

[myfavoritemurder]

Yes, I'm looking for something warm. Something warm, but useful. Doesn't anybody here make armor?

[No armor is really made to be warm, and the more bundled up one gets the harder fighting becomes - but surely, she thinks, there have to be things that are more heavy duty than this. Leaving the shirts behind, she stalks over to Kate, moving in to investigate her discarded boots.]

I thought they wanted us to fight for them. Can you fight in "fast fashion"?

[bossyboiler]

[ Kate keeps her hands visible. ]

What kind of armor are you looking for? Maybe something to cover your stomach?

[ Kate is going to be careful to stay out of melee range. She realizes now that the other woman is a newbie. Plus, Callisto has a big, fuck-off sword strapped to her back. She is going to play it safe because she already feels sorry. ]

Yes and you can be less conspicuous in it too especially because they don't like you to advertise that you're working for them.

B; ADI housing

[abrightboy]

Malcolm steps out the door of apartment B1 and almost runs right into her. His step stutters to dodge her and his hand stays on the knob of the apartment door to steady him.

“Excuse me,” he tells her politely.

[myfavoritemurder]

To escalate, or not to escalate? It's a toss-up, really, but this time she goes for the former, stepping deftly to the side and putting herself back in his path.

"You're not excused."

[abrightboy]

His eyebrows go up faintly, his expression more academic curiosity than anything else.

“Well, it wasn’t an order,” he concedes. “Are you new here?”

[myfavoritemurder]

She wrinkles her nose, either at the question or at his mild reaction, and crosses her arms as she studies him.

"Yes. And you're not."

Or so she assumes.

"Do you live here, or are you from someplace else, too?"

b

[chainreactions]

(Kurapika is also not at ADI, even while curfew seems to be closer than otherwise. He doesn't plan to sleep. Instead, he'd like to spend his time getting to know the town he suddenly finds himself in against his will. The more he knows, the safer he'll be, and the less problems he'll attract due to ignorance.

So, people-watching and pondering on what he knows seem to be the plan. It's the voice that awakens him from his trance, eyebrows raising in surprise.)

They're buses. They follow a pre-determinated path in a loop, so it depends on which bus you get on. You can tell by the numbers they display. As for the furthest, they can go for as long as one is willing to drive them, provided there is enough fuel and the conditions of the vehicle are pristine. Do you not have those where you're from?

[myfavoritemurder]

We have carts.

[She says, leaning a shoulder against the glass wall of the bus shelter. The pneumatic doors close with a hiss of air, and the bus pulls off. Callisto's eyes follow it, but she makes no move to walk off.]

You pull them yourself, or you have an animal pull them if you're lucky. Is fuel the name of the magic that allows them to move on their own?

[chainreactions]

It's not magic, it's science. There's an engine inside the car, and the it converts energy from the heat of burning gasoline or alcohol, in other words, fuel, into mechanical work, or torque. That torque is applied to the wheels to make the bus or car move.

(Nerd.

Calmly, Kurapika finds a seat at the station, waiting for the next bus to come.)

[myfavoritemurder]

And that's different from magic.

[She says, sounding highly skeptical. Sorry, buddy. It certainly sounds magical to her.]

arrival;

[sorser]

[Stephen’s making his way down the corridor, straight from a stint in the medical department, when he catches sight of a figure exiting one of the restrooms down the way. A woman donned in what appears to be leather armor, armed and so very clearly unhappy about what he assumes is a new turn of events. And that same woman has her eyes fixed straight onto him, as though he’s the easiest outlet for her unholy indignity.]

…Wonderful.

[Why do all the difficult ones arrive in the restrooms?

Stephen groans a little, a wave of exhaustion overcoming him, though physical instinct kicks in when she draws close enough, putting his hands up in a placating manner.]

Okay, hold on—

[No, he doesn’t understand what she’s saying, though his more esoteric studies allows him to recognize it as— Greek? Ancient Greek? Maybe it’s the armor that gives it away.]

I’m not your enemy.

[myfavoritemurder]

[The language is wholly unfamiliar, without even a hint of similarity to any foreign words or accents that she's heard before, but she recognizes a placating gesture when she sees one. Her lip curls, and she takes a threatening step towards him, though the menace of it is somewhat offset by the way she sways a little as her foot lands. The disorientation of arrival has not even begun to wear off yet.]

Who are you?

[She repeats, pointing directly at him in an effort to get her point across.]

You.

[sorser]

[A keen observational eye reveals a telling moment: one in which this newcomer wobbles, as though she might topple over with the application of a stiff wind. Stephen doesn’t have the means to communicate this, and even if he did, he wouldn’t be so stupid. Likely it would be a remark gone… unappreciated.

And though she closes the space between them menacingly, Stephen neither steps forward to meet her or moves away. The implication of her gesture is too obvious to be an implication, though he doubts how useful this exchange will be — he really should brush up more on his dead language studies someday.]

Stephen.

[Slowly, enunciated. A scarred finger motions at her in return, and he arches a brow.]

You?

[myfavoritemurder]

Callisto.

[She imagines that the chances of her name meaning anything to him are low, but she shoots him a vicious smirk regardless, and it only deepens when she gets a look at those scars. Maybe he's a fighter - or maybe he's just had damage done to him. Either way, she runs a finger down the back of her own hand, then points to his, trying to let him know that she's seen.]

You've seen battle, Stephen.

b is for besties

[inutilis]

[ some time after Callisto has most bravely survived a good number of First Experiences (baby's first car ride..... so proud) for the day and finds herself exploring the ADI housing come sometime before nightfall, she might find one of the doors in A-block opening at her behest. the apartment beyond is furnished in the same way as the others, and there isn't anything especially distinct about its interior - except, of course,

that once she steps inside,

...she finds herself abruptly making eye contact with the man who had just stepped from the kitchen, half an entire croissant shoved in his piehole and two more pastries dripping jam over his fingertips in his hands. he has gone very still at the unexpected intrusion-- and not unlike a deer in headlights, is staring at this........... guest???... as if he isn't quite sure if she's real...? or, like,

um.

...after a moment's awkward silence, he sees fit to slowly stretch one of the croissants in her direction, because it's... only polite to share... when you have company...? ]

CRYING... peak abel

[myfavoritemurder]

[With the way he freezes, and the way he's cramming food into his mouth seemingly as quickly as possible... Callisto's first thought is that she's caught a thief. Obviously, this guy has wandered into someone else's home the way she herself has, and finding its food stores unguarded, he's decided to help himself.

So she takes the proffered, presumably stolen croissant, because just because she hasn't tried to steal anything from anyone else's apartments doesn't mean she's morally opposed to the idea.]

Why don't you just take the food away, if you're so worried about getting caught with it?

Callisto is now an accomplice in pastry crimes,

[inutilis]

[ ah. ...ah, she just went right ahead and took it?? w-well, he is curiously blinking at this development, but then he's questioning what else he expected her to do when he offered it, so--

Abel is waving his now free (and sadly still jam-smeared) hand in dismissal, trying to shove the rest of the pastry into his mouth so he can chew, swallow, and speak,

...but he only gets quite as far as the chewing part, considering it's-- uh, a lot of croissant shoved in there?? and taking a while. hopefully his intruder understands "speaking-with-mouth-full-ese" because that is what's happening right now, ]

Oh~! No, I-- I'm not worried about getting caught so much as simply, ah... surprised? To have company! Are you here for one of the boys...? I'm afraid they're not in right now, but good for them--

[ ........what?

she's cute, just saying, ]

[myfavoritemurder]

[She is also definitely wearing her really dumb, really skimpy armor, so enjoy the view, Abel.]

I'm here for no one.

[She says - studying the pastry, then taking another bite.]

Well. Now I suppose I'm here for this.

c.

[medicative]

[she'd been told she was getting a roommate, but not seeing hide nor hair of them made her wonder if they hadn't just decided to get another place to stay. so she continues as she was, tending to herself and pulling longer hours, watering the few houseplants she has for color and keeping things in a calm order. thus it is that when she comes back and finds that there's someone else there...to say that her heart wanted to leap out of her chest in alarm was pretty fair.

a stranger, who's decided to dry her clothes on the floor and nearly burn the place down. it's a reflex born of dealing with many a difficult patient that gives her strength enough to walk in, to quickly snap the burner off - close enough to Callisto's face, but not touching - and to try to summon all the composure she has to not indicate that she's half wondering if this counts as a break in.]

I'd thank you to explain what you're doing in my apartment, before I answer any questions of yours.

[hair bound back in a bun, narrow shoulders and modestly attired against the cold, there's nothing truly intimidating about her, save the brusque tone in which she's speaking.]

[myfavoritemurder]

[Immediately, and with a snarl, Callisto shoots a hand out and makes a grab for Emily's wrist, digging her nails in if she manages to get a grip.]

It's cold out. We need a fire.

[And this is the closest thing the apartment seems to have to a fireplace, apparently it will have to do!]

[medicative]

[she doesn't get her wrist, but she snags Emily's glove, and with her pulling her hand back, it means Callisto gets the fabric and Emily's got her own hand. startling, and this woman...

mentally, Emily takes a deep breath. she has to push past this and manage. like dealing with an unruly patient.]

If you're cold, I can turn up the heating system. But I will not let you burn this apartment down, nor evade giving me a reason for your presence.

[myfavoritemurder]

[Callisto gives the glove a cursory glance, then drops it, letting it fall to the floor.]

The fire isn't a part of your heating system?

[This does, at least, sound like an honestly-meant question. She's genuinely baffled.]