Mingle - Emergency Potluck

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WELCOME POTLUCK

Greetings, residents! Those more observant sorts among you may have noticed a large influx of very crowded ferries. In order to welcome our new residents en masse, Town Hall is holding a potluck in Town Square. Please bring a dish if you are able and make a new friend!

All of our newest arrivals need only bring themselves. We look forward to welcoming you all into our community, and may your lanterns always be lit.

This event is open to all! In light of our new influx of prospective players following the Great Sail Migration, we've decided to offer a small public event to tide everyone over until the TDM this weekend.

Comments

[astrogator]

Tayrey grins. 'When you're in deep space most of the time there are... limitations on what you can do with your spare time. Gambling? Very popular. I never got into it heavily, because of the fine I got hit with after I signed up, but I won a lot of kalixtri games.'

She thinks for a moment. 'I'll teach you Sector Standard. It's what I got used to hearing, the whole sector uses it as a trading language, and it won't make you sound like you just stepped out from a Company Tower.'

[crushed_pearls]

"Sector Standard it is. I'll level with you, I don't remember the going rate for language lessons back on Earth, but I just fuckin' got here, I can't be hashing out payments. Consider it...damn it I used to know this phrase...not a pre-negotiation that's setting up the meeting and procedures..." Erin snaps her fingers a few times in rhythm, trying to remind herself, and then straightens up with the epiphany. "Declaration of intent, there we go! Formal contract later when we've had time to be at our best."

Deep breath. Erin steeples her fingers. "...Now, I said I'd circle back around. Our contract of friendship, I dunno if it's still valid by your lights. We had it pegged to time, with a duration, and time just got fucky from our perspective. But...I still value it. I'm still holding to it, on my end. I'm half-starved for Glamour, Tayrey, and I've been autocannibalizing my fuckin' selfhood as a result."

"What I'm saying is, I'm not at the top of my explanation game here. Can I ask you to strain your remarkable mind to extend me the benefit of the doubt here?"

[astrogator]

'Right. Formal contract later.' That's easy enough, for something as simple as language lessons. Easy to make fair. But the rest...

Tayrey frowns. 'I wasn't going to say anything, Erin, given I know I'm hardly any better, but you do look rough. Within the boundaries of our contract, I've got to ask if you'd rather hold off on the difficult conversations, because - I can extend the benefit of the doubt, but you know me. If I don't like what you have to say, I can't pretend I do. And by rights I should be robust enough to hear anything. Freedom of speech matters. But I'm... damaged, Erin. I can't tell how bad. I might not be up to it. I can't do anything about that right now, but I- is there anything I can do for you? Materially, to help?'

It's a hard admission for her to make. Freedom was supposed to solve everything. It hasn't. The scars on her body might be gone, but there are people here she can't even look at without a jolt of panic. Hard to keep it all in proportion, and criticism of basic Tradeline customs would only be a reminder of how alone she is.

Although nobody on the construction site had cared about those differences, just that she pulled her weight at work, and she was more than capable of doing that. Maybe it's just a matter of finding the right places, she thinks.

CW ethics of suicide

[crushed_pearls]

"I can't ask you for what I need most. I'm not gonna harvest your Glamour, not when it unavoidably breaches your privacy." Erin hangs her head, but she's smiling. It's fragile, but it's there. "...The offer means a lot. I know we'll talk again after I can sleep and eat and maybe get a bar fight and cuddle Ylva and...all that, but if I don't say this now I'll forget, and I can't be having that. So. Before I start, this is a matter of...strategy, and dignity, not of our frequent debates. I'm not asking you to believe anything different."

It still takes her a bit to work up to it, stretching with audible Popping Sounds and faint groans of both pain and relief.

(We've got to try.)

Yeah. I know.

"...We've taken a job," Erin murmurs. "With a pretty good paycheck. To live again, that's a big ask, and more importantly, we can leave. I remember that part of the deal, and it's not something we could do on the ship. If the work doesn't seem worth the payment, we can die, really die. Everything we ever argued about, I never disagreed about the right to die."

"But the people we've been hired to help, they don't have that choice. They can't leave, and they can't die. They're prisoners in their own home, maybe the only home they've ever known. They can't work hard and save up their money to hop a ship to another city, they can't be safe in their own houses, they can't import new technologies or even new ideas." Her fingers curl into a loose fist; her arm is shaking. "All they have left is their dignity, their idea of doing right by others, their idea of being good people. This potluck is part of that. A housewarming gift can be part of that...if they couldn't take care of each other, if they couldn't show hospitality, well, then they'd really be wretched. Things would really be bad."

"Please tell me I'm making human sense."

[astrogator]

Ari Tayrey listens. She doesn't interrupt, doesn't say a word, just listens carefully to all this. For a long moment afterwards, she's silent. She clasps her hands together, wearing an expression of deep concentration. Careful thought.

'I follow,' she says at last, slowly. 'To a point.' Tayrey takes a breath. 'I willingly signed that contract. It's not perfect, no contract ever is, but it was more than good enough. I mean to fulfil it. I certainly want to protect the essential rights of the local people, so far as I can. And to free them from this... situation. It matters to me, and you know why. But what I don't think you see-'

Here's the tricky part. 'They have the right to their own customs. I'd be a monster if I tried to prevent them from giving each other gifts or following their religion or doing anything else that seems right to them and doesn't harm anyone else. Their rights matter. But so do mine, Erin. Being here under some kind of agreed indenture doesn't alter that. I didn't sign away my culture. If I had to accept charity, no fair contract in return, then I'd be wretched. Yes? I did day labor so I could purchase a dish to contribute to this gathering, and attend it. I'm participating in their community, as I can, without betraying my own beliefs in the process. You can't ask more of me than that.'

[crushed_pearls]

"I'm not asking more. Just for some flexibility, and for once in my life my experience with growing up poor as hell is helpful here." Erin's expression goes almost nostalgic. "...Growing up we had these neighbors for awhile, the Robinsons. Down on their luck. Mom used to go over every now and again, right, and the thing is we'd have 'em over for dinner or give them leftovers from Dad's job at the diner, and Mom would go over and ask to borrow something little. Some sugar, cleaning supplies, stuff we had but wasn't expensive. When I was a kid, confused the hell out of me, but after I became Lost I saw it for what it was. Taking charity from us would have shamed the Robinsons, but Mom made them feel like they were paying back what was owing. She gave them their dignity. What I'm getting at, or trying to, is there's ways to navigate this, yeah? Fair trade, wearing a different hat."

[astrogator]

Now she's confused. Possibly as confused as the child Erin had been, albeit for different reasons.

'You're almost talking about generosity and goodwill in contract,' Tayrey posits. 'If someone offered me a full meal in trade for a bit of sugar, I'd be offended. Because I'm not needy and the imbalance is obvious. If I were truly needy, that sort of arrangement is a way to give charity without having to say it, and I'd be grateful my benefactor did it that way.'

She shakes her head. 'I'm not sure which side of the equation you're trying to put me on, but I'm not needy. I'm not going to play poor little refugee happy to get a culturally inappropriate gift because it makes some local feel better about their situation, having some worse off stranger to care for.. I'll work flat out to pay my way. At anything.' Tayrey speaks with a fierce sense of pride, but there's no anger in the words, just determination. As if she needs to prove herself.

[crushed_pearls]

"Heh. Lieutenant, you've got it backwards. If I know you even a tenth of how well I think you do, you're gonna be the one well off soon enough, and people doing worse than you will be bringing gifts so they don't feel indebted." Erin looks up, flashing a smile. "You're about to learn real fast how many people on that fucking nightmare ship never had a real job. Think it over while you meet people. And do spare a thought for the fate of your inevitable business empire once you cash out and go back home, yeah?"

[astrogator]

That's unexpected enough to take the heat out of her insistence entirely.

'If what you're asking is for me to show goodwill in my contracts with the locals, I will. Friendly face of the Tradelines. I can be tactful about it. No tough negotiations, they don't carry well.' She shrugs. 'I'm still not accepting gifts without reciprocity.' The mutually beneficial contract is the fundamental building block of society. She won't let that go.

A small smile, then, because she won't say it, but Erin's faith in her counts for a lot. 'And if I end up running my own Company here I'll be sure to appoint capable Directors who can step into the breach at need. Local people. Something sustainable and lasting. But that's a long way off, and the work I'm contracted for has first priority.'