ph_logs | The Old Fashioned Is Commonly Held To Have Been Invented In 1880

The Old Fashioned Is Commonly Held To Have Been Invented In 1880

Who: Erin Peters and YOU
What: Settling in, dealing with things, making friends
When: Late March
Where: Oak & Iron, the woods, around
Warnings: Discussion of death & the ethics of suicide, trauma, whatever you bring with you

Gallery Style | Oak & Iron

Oak & Iron undergoes a few renovations, just a couple days' worth, to expand the bar area and add labels in Braille (thanks Gerry). When they're done, Pumpkin Hollow has a new bartender, a winged lass in a blindfold wreathed in the scents of sex and gunpowder. She quickly picks up a reputation for almost prescient service; good suggestions for drinks, never leaving a glass empty long, and a firm hand for when you're cut off. Though every now and again there's an odd dance where someone isn't cut off and instead drinks enough to, not to put too fine a point on it, fucking die - except they don't die, and instead just get normal drunk.

A rather extensive cocktail menu manifests too (thanks Magne, with your working eyes). It's cut up into various flavors, with the ingredients clearly laid out (thanks Max Maximum, with your knowledge of food allergies), but at the tail end of the menu is a change in theme; two sections labeled by nation instead of flavor. The countries in question are Gallery, and Japan.

Gangster Style | The Woods

Here's the needle Erin has to thread: she can't overload herself socially, but she also can't listen to the urge to isolate. So one day she goes out into the woods just at the edge of town and digs a pair of graves in the soft soil, leaving the dirt in a huge pile off to the side. You might find her out here, just laying in one, trying to listen to the sounds of the forest, but if she knows you, well, you might have been invited. "Six feet deep, best rest you'll get."

Tourist Style | Wildcard

Come get your bird lady.

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"It'll be better, eventually." Erin reaches slowly to tap her temple with a finger. "Traitor Brain is what it is, I'd be like this if I'd woken up on Cardalek and been handed a corner office. Hell -" there's a soft, snorting laugh, "- had a panic attack once after a successful heist. Talk about irrational, right?"

"I appreciate the offer. And you being here." She sits up, sort of, to 'look' up at Ari. "...This a good time to negotiate those language lessons? Take my mind off things, and I think I've got something fun to put on the table. Y'like determining abstract value?"

She stops herself from asking if the problem after the heist was a sense of guilt, because Erin already knows all about Ari Tayrey's moral stances. It's not the time.

Instead, she readily agrees to Erin's own idea. 'Sure, I'm up for negotiation. Tell me what you have in mind, and I'll see how it holds up.' Abstract value can be a tricky thing, so she's making no promises.

Then, almost as an afterthought: 'You want to come up here? Can't say I like negotiating while looking down. It sets the wrong tone.'

"Might as well..."

Erin gets up with a certain reluctance, hauling herself out of the grave to sit on the edge next to Tayrey with her feet dangling. She flashes a little grin, which quickly becomes a more serious expression.

"Spring is here, in a way she just wasn't on the ship," Erin murmurs. "My Contracts with her are being repaid again, which means I can put them at your disposal. So here's the general outline that I'm thinking: I can give you rest you won't find elsewhere, in an instant. We meet once a week for lessons, I top you off maybe twice a week? You don't want it daily, not actually sleeping and dreaming can and will drive you insane. And -" There's that grin again, "I'm quite willing to demonstrate right now, if you like. An advance payment, let's say."

And this demonstrates very neatly one of the problems.

Tayrey smiles back at Erin, enthusiastic at first. 'I can see the appeal of Spring now. It's like the long Winter is finally over.' She's clumsy with the metaphor, this spacer who was raised on a climate-controlled colony world with no seasons to speak of, but she hopes the intent carries.

The rest, though? She shakes her head. 'I appreciate the thought, but I- you know I place a very high value on not having my mind tampered with, not being treated as if I'm...' she bites her lip, not even knowing how to describe it. 'Sleep's a nuisance sometimes, sure, but it's part of humanity.'

The young lieutenant aboard the Prosperity might have leapt at the chance for increased productivity, but now it cuts too close for comfort to some of the things that happened while she was imprisoned.

"It's not...your mind," Erin says awkwardly. "Except insofar as like...a soft bed influences your mind, a good meal influences your mind? It's renewal, it's...god fuckin' damn it language is so bad at this..." She Gestures, with both hands, trying to find the words to explain a concept she only really understands as images and feelings. "...Well shit, I'm sitting on my own hands now. The best way to make it comprehensible is to try it and, well."

Erin shrugs, looking morose now. "...I wouldn't have offered if it was...somethin' like my harvests or what you used that shield for back on the ship. I know how much your absolute autonomy means to you."

'You didn't do anything wrong, in offering,' she says firmly. 'I know it's not like that; I know you wouldn't try to take anything from me. It's me, Erin, it's-' her hand goes up to her forehead, she squeezes her eyes shut for a moment. It's not any easier for her to explain.

'It's my damage. I know it's my damage, because I can imagine my friends back home leaping on that opportunity you're offering and calling it very fair contract. Except I think about it and all I can see is... I won't even say it, it's not fair to you, I know your intentions are good.'

She sees the ship, and someone deciding it's real convenient if Tayrey doesn't feel hunger or thirst while she's trapped in a nightmare of a waiting room, and real convenient if the injuries from torture vanish instead of leaving the scars they should. How she had to fight to hold on to her humanity in an environment designed to strip it from her.

None of which is Erin's fault.

She sighs. 'I'm making a terrible mess of this. I'm half-inclined to give you those lessons as goodwill, for the value in our friendship and the value to me of getting to speak Sector Standard. Which is considerable.'

"I'm flattered by the thought," Erin admits softly. "But even on Earth you don't generally let friends work for free, it's just not talked about as payment so explicitly." Beat. "Usually, as a general rule more complex and bothersome things you fuckin' pay for. Nobody is gonna rewire your house for a pizza party. But...hm. I mean, there's other options. I'm working the bar now, so there's all that, if you've got a use for rainstorms on demand...hell, I can play bodyguard if you work nights, I'm not scared of monsters. I dunno."

"You got the blunt edge of magic before. Thought it might be nice to offer its wonder."

'Then you'll understand why, after what I've seen of it, my instincts scream at me me to stand well clear,' she says softly. 'Even when the offer's from a friend. Damage isn't rational, but the repairs take time.'

It's as plain as she can put it, but then Tayrey turns towards Erin, touches her arm lightly. 'Negotiation tip for you. We don't work for free, ever. If I talk about intangible values and you call that free, what you're saying is that our friendship and my joy in speaking my own language have a value of zero. Which I know you don't mean.' Once upon a time she wouldn't have known, would have taken prickly offense at it, but Tayrey doesn't have to be so guarded and defensive now. She has her liberty, she has the possibility of peace and prosperity. The words are light too, almost gently said.

'So let's pull back. No intangibles, no complications. You work at the bar, how about you tell me when's quiet and I stop in for drinks now and then? Eight pints for a weekly lesson?' A sly smile. Eight's a lot; she's expecting a much lower counter-offer. That's the fun of the negotiation game.

"Eight, damn, you need a kidney too?" The joke is a bit forced, Erin's smile a bit fragile, but the warmth behind it is genuine. The latter days on the ship between the two of them had been so tense, and it's...

Good, to know Tayrey isn't giving up. "You sure it's even beer you're after? My poor cocktail menu, walked past like it ain't shit."

'I'll pass. I can probably grow a kidney. I know I can grow extra teeth if I need - not that I'm planning to demonstrate,' she says. She's playing along with the joke, but it's not a lie, either. The marvels of Cardalek Genetech.

'You know I don't know anything about cocktails. My education was only - wine at the captain's table, but beer stationside,' she says with a grin. She'd liked the cocktails Johnny had mixed for her, but she'd let him do all the choosing, and she's resolved not to bring up that nightmare ship to Erin. Tayrey continues: 'I figure you know more on the subject than Lieutenant Lowell. He gave me that sound advice. Never said anything about planetside, though. I wouldn't want to neglect your menu. Make me a counter-offer?'

Erin dies laughing, gripping the edge of the grave so she doesn't fall in, and tries to explain while she has air: "I'm sorry - I know, okay, I know, you probably mean, oh fuck me, like in a lab, Earth is working on that, but -" wheezing now, "all I can imagine is you fuckin' concentrating super hard and a kidney pops out of your shoulder -"

Instinctively Tayrey reaches over to hold Erin steady, because she doesn't want her falling into that pit either! She smiles, but it's with confusion. 'My shoulder? It's no use there! Anyone can grow them in a lab, but what I mean is that if I lost one I could probably grow another. In the right place. Cardalek genetics, you know...' she shakes her head, snickering a little, because the shoulder-kidney image is bewilderingly absurd enough to amuse her.

"Oh my god you meant regeneration, that's badass -" okay she needs to breathe. Breaaaathe. We good? We're good. Okay.

"Did get an idea," Erin continues, at last. "We can swap lessons. Not just showing you cocktails but teaching their history, maybe how to make 'em. They're a pretty young art, less than two hundred years, but Earth went pretty balls to the walls about it."

Guess who forgot that Ari's culture only has three centuries of records?

She's not entirely sure that regrowing a kidney counts as badass, but what does Tayrey know, it's a foreign term. Maybe she'll have to trust Erin on this one.

Yes, her eyes definitely go wide when that timescale is mentioned. 'Sounds old enough to me,' she mutters. 'Practically slow-ship age. But sure,' she carries on, with more enthusiasm now. 'It's a skill that might prove useful, right?'

"Sure can, though like most skills it's all about context. Less useful while you're employed back on your ship, much more useful if and when you're displaying hospitality or employed in such." Erin taps her chin thoughtfully. "Also pretty handy for avoiding bad people during R&R, when you know your drinks and your limits. But I won't lie, I do consider learning new skills valuable in itself, for the satisfaction of it. The advice you said you got back at home is nice and practical for your profession, 'cause with wine and beer you generally know what you've got with every serving. Harder to accidentally get drunk and impede your duties. Here though, different circumstances and a teacher."

'I can't say that hospitality's in my particular skillset,' says Tayrey, amiably enough. She's aware of her talents, and that's not where they lie. There's a reason why, faced with the need to get a casual job at short notice, she headed for construction and not anything involving being nice to customers.

'But I'm with you on the new skills. You know, I'm making a point of learning peace-and-prosperity in as many languages as I can, so I can greet people with something familiar.' Not entirely familiar! Still, her heart's in the right place. 'Alright. I'll trust you. Lessons in Sector Standard in return for cocktails, information about them, and the promise you'll keep me from getting too drunk while I'm learning?'

"You've got my vow, plus letting you get wasted would look bad in front of my patrons." Erin flashes her friend a grin. "You're gonna want to revisit hospitality as you're building up your company. It's a handy skill set for negotiations, y'know."

Tayrey laughs. 'If I'm getting wasted, it'll be in the safety of my own house with my good friends. And not without my knowledge!' This, believe it or not, is an improvement. That she'd feel comfortable enough to, instead of believing herself constantly on-duty and never able to truly relax.

She's similarly flippant about hospitality. 'If I get to the point where it's needed, I'll be in a position to delegate. The practical aspects at least. And I don't do the Company politics side, dances and dinners and all that. Playing nice with people you dislike and then stabbing them in the share price. Career spacers are exempt,' she jokes.

"You better have a good executive then," Erin jokes right back. "Can't be me, I attack people's finances directly."

Pledges!

'I'm sure plenty of Companies would find that exceptionally useful,' she replies lightly. 'Make all those would-be contract-breakers think twice. But you're right. If I start my own business here, I'll need people I trust. For now-' Tayrey smiles wryly, 'at least I've got someone paying me for my patrols! Lockwood Security. They're not bad. Fortunate for me the labor shortage means I got to set my terms, near enough.'

"Sounds nice. I think grave time might be over...I should go wash up and, I dunno. Be depressed in another location. Care to walk back to town with me?"

'Another location might help,' Tayrey agrees. She's not going to tell Erin not to feel how she does, but she doubts the grave is really helping matters. 'Come on, we'll go together.'

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The Old Fashioned Is Commonly Held To Have Been Invented In 1880

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Wrap?

wrap! <3