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CHARACTERS: clarice fong & co.
LOCATION: around the station
DATE: post-vrefesea mission
CONTENT: stress-eating, stress-destressing, some shiny portal-making
WARNINGS: none!

—— cheer up sleepy jean

[ the dream starts the same way it always does: a low rumbling of thunder and the hasty patter-patter of rain. a brush of fingers through her dampening hair, knuckles tracing the edge of her ear. there's a smile, gentle and intimate, one she knows isn't meant for her but oh in the dream it's just they're just the only two people left on earth. it's a stolen moment, quick and hasty and desperate like the kiss that follows, bodies clinging together because every night could be their last—

she wakes up the same way: breathless, skin flushed, mind chasing the retreating images and feelings before she gets a hold of herself and puts a stop to it like shutting down a mental iron door. they aren't her memories to chase. those aren't her feelings to hunger for.

deciding against sleep for the rest of the night, clarice heads to the kitchen. there she can be found staring distractedly off into the distance as she sits on the counter by the stove, absently scraping at the peeling wood of a chopstick while a pot of water boils beside her.

if she isn't warned in time, the water overflows, sending the stove hissing and spitting in anger. she hops off the counter, hastily turning the burner off to stare miserably at her now-overcooked instant noodles. ]

Shit.

—— breathe in, breathe out

[ another day, she can be found in the sunlight room, sitting still on a large boulder by the lake's edge. she's got her legs crossed, her back straight, her hands open palms up at her knees, and her eyes closed — in every other way the picture of pure serenity, were it not for the occasional furrow that crosses her brow.

before too long, she lets out a big sigh, kicking her feet out and throwing her hands in the air in defeat. ]

This is stupid. [ a pause. ] You're stupid.

[ she's actually speaking to her reflection in the lake surface nearby, but feel free to think she's speaking to you. ]

—— practice makes impatient

[ clarice couldn't be 100% positive, but she's pretty sure she heard you couldn't get hurt in the simulation room. or, if you could, it wouldn't be that big of a deal. (don't quote her on that, though.) in any case, there she'll be found one day, standing in a wide, mostly empty room. in front of her: a cadre of three test dummies. beside her: a large stone partition that hides the other side of the room completely from her view. what it looks like on the other side, she doesn't know, and that's the point; she'd programmed the simulation room to randomize it every time, figuring it counts as good as any for "a place she hasn't been before."

it's a strange set up, but one that hopefully makes itself clear when clarice gradually works at tearing a hole into space, straining to widen it just large enough that the three mannequins clunkily moving towards her can fit right through them. once all three make it through, clarice drops her hands with a winded gasp, then rush over to peek behind the partition. ]

—Oh god.

[ don't walk back here if you are sensitive to mannequin carnage..... ]

—— wildcard

( if neither of these strike your fancy, feel free to write up your own starter or hit me up to plot something else out! )

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[ Spock knows what he believes to be meditation when he sees it, so he has no intention of disturbing her until she speaks, planning to find his own quiet corner. ]

A loud mind is not a sign of low intelligence. Rather it is a sign of a lack of discipline that takes many people years to master.

[ Commander Unsolicited Advice at your service. ]

[ she recognizes his voice, so it's with a flat smile that she twists around to greet him. ]

Gee, thanks, Spock.

[ it's about as genuine as it is sarcastic, tenderly wrapped in something almost bordering on something one might even call fond. seeing as how she'd given up on even trying at that point, she doesn't hesitate to arch a brow his way, striking up conversation. ]

Out for a walk?

[ Spock is used to sarcasm between the humans he keeps company with and his own subtle sense of humor that many tend to miss, so he takes no offense and instead moves to sit on a slightly shorter rock near her own. ]

I thought perhaps a change of scenery might enhance my own meditation.

[ Normally, he wouldn't struggle, but he has a lot of things weighing on him and he's found himself feeling unbalanced for the last several days. ]

Would you accept my assistance?

[ if clarice is at all surprised to find that spock is the kind to meditate, she doesn't show it. instead, there's a slight twist to her lips, like she's getting ready to refuse, but what ends up coming out is a far more hesitant, ]

I'm... not really the best student for this kind of thing.

[ it's not a refusal, no. more like a warning. she doesn't want to end up wasting his time, after all. ]

And yet I assure you that you would not be the worst student I have likely had.

[ His academy years had brought him in the presence of many humans unwilling to put much effort or patience into a passing interest. ]

Meditation is an essential part of my culture from a young age and it can allow for a variety of benefits. Will you tell me what your goals are?

My goals?

[ clarice almost feels like laughing. what are her goals? to not have to run anymore. to belong.

but neither of those things can come from her powers. ]

I need... control.

[ the set of her line is tight when she looks at him, expression steely and grim. ]

I was born with — abilities. Powers I never really learned how to manage. I didn't really have anyone to teach me.

All I know is my emotions can affect them. Either boost them or block them, or maybe they're what trigger them in the first place, I don't really know.

[ she grows quiet for a moment, deliberating over her next words. ]

Someone... once told me positive emotions help. And they do, but — it's not really an option for me right now.

[ a helpless shrug. ]

I figured feeling calm was the next best thing.

I see.

[ He reflects on the information. It's a unique problem, but close enough that Spock can relate it to his own experiences without much of a stretch. ]

My people believe in the teachings of Surak who taught that logic should be prioritized over emotion. We learn meditation from a very young age so that we may control our emotions' hold over us rather than be controlled by them and this in turn does affect our innate telepathic abilities.

I believe that relative calm may be a more stable state for your mind than attempting to chase a particular feeling. You do not need to embrace or ignore them in order to achieve that but simply to accept that they exist and allow them to be.

[ Spock can understand the struggle for control. Even with all of his training, his feelings are there and they do affect him at times. ]

[ honestly, it sounds too good to be true. though she doesn't think herself wholly irrational, clarice spares a couple of moments to imagine a more logical version of herself and admittedly she's not quite sure what that would even look like.

but before she can dwell too much on possibilities and hope, there's something she has to clarify first. ]

...You have telepathic abilities?

[ suddenly, she regards him warily. ]

What kind?

Vulcans are touch-based telepaths.

[ He picks up on her unease and it's not the first time he's been met with that. Even people who are familiar with what Vulcans are have shown reticence when unsure of his limitations or ethics. ]

It is rare that we can touch a person's mind without making physical contact first and I would not venture into anyone's mind without permission under normal circumstances. It is considered an incredible taboo by my people to disregard the privacy of others in this way.

[ clarice glances down at her hands, thinking back to any time she might have brushed hands with the vulcan and not even realized. but he says he doesn't use his abilities unless given permission, so she wills herself to trust that it's exactly as he says.

she forces herself to take a deep breath. ]

Sorry. There are people like that in my world, too. People who can do... all sorts of things with your mind. You can probably tell I don't have the best experience with that.

I had surmised as such. You can rest assured that I would not offer to assist you if I meant you ill. My people are not capable of such subterfuge nor would I view that as a tactic worth pursuing.

[ Spock may keep his secrets and the secrets of others, but his lies are much more likely to be ones of omission. ]

Right. I should be fine so long as I don't touch you, right?

[ look, she's. she's trying to be better. she still doesn't like what's happened, and doesn't trust that it wouldn't happen again, but she knows she's in a situation now that requires her to work with people here.

part of that means trusting them, even if only a little. ]

Yes. My people are not casual with touch for exactly this reason. Though we work to have mental shielding in place, physical contact is considered to be an emotionally intimate act. Something to be done between family, romantic partners and--

[ He hesitates, because this is much more him than it is other Vulcans. ]

The closest of friendships. I have lived among humans long enough that I am used to more casual human displays of physical affection, but it is not something that comes automatically in my own mannerisms.

[Too late. Rey was already there, two practice swords in her hands as she made her way as unobtrusively as she could behind that stone wall that had been serving as a perfect buffer between her and whoever else it was in the simulation room. She'd been just about to start on some made up forms when suddenly-

Dismembered human-like plastic things. And look, there's a familiar face peering around the wall.]

Not what you were hoping for?

[ clarice looks up, finally noticing rey now that she isn't so distracted by the dismembered plastic mess on the floor. ]

Not this time, no.

[ she figures it's only practical to consider the possibility of... weaponizing her portals, should she need to. but frankly she hopes she never has to need to.

with a sigh she steps around the wall, kicking at the massacred dummies so they're at least out of the way. how do you get the sim room to do a concentrated clean up?

she nods at the practice swords in rey's hands, brows arched. ]

Giving up on your boxing career?

Branching out, more like.

[There's a pause, Rey looking Clarice up and down like she's noticing something different for the first time, but then she just smiles, gently.]

I like your hair like that.

[ the comment startles clarice, who takes a moment to realize — ah, yes, that's right... rey had only seen what she'd looked like back on novis nox. self-consciously, she reaches up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, glancing down at the floor again. ]

Yeah, it's... this is what it usually looks like. [ a pause. ] What I usually look like.

[Much like her own comment startles Clarice, the other woman's reaction surprises Rey for a moment before she realizes why it might be that she's reacting that way. Rey herself is a human, and so are Finn and Poe and Leia, but until them most of the people she had interacted with had been non-humans of some description or another. Unkar Plutt had been Crolute, there had been countless Teedo, and she had spent more time with BB-8 and Chewbacca than almost anyone.

It takes a surprising lack of effort to reach out to touch Clarice's arm, gently, and give her a smile.]

You look pretty like this, Clarice. If anyone else has ever made you feel differently, they were idiots.

[ with her gaze downward, she doesn't see the hand reaching for her until it's right there, and she nearly jumps out of her own skin from the shock of it. sweet comments, caring gestures — they're as foreign to clarice as they might be to rey herself, and for that clarice has learned not to immediately trust them.

it's not that clarice doesn't trust rey herself. it's not even that she doesn't like or believe rey. but as nice and genuine as the comment is, it unfortunately would take a lot more than that to shake off years of being told otherwise. ]

Yeah, well there are a lot of idiots where I'm from.

[ she offers rey a smile, appreciative if tight. she shifts away from the touch, but not too far away that it might alienate the other woman. she nods at the practice swords, eager to shift the conversation elsewhere. ]

So what's with the swords?

You'll find that's true in every universe.

[But her hand moves to take the sword back into her hand rather than hold two in one as naturally as if Clarice hadn't shrugged her off at all, recognizing the telltale sign of someone much like her who isn't accustomed to human contact. Instead of saying anything about it at all she swings the swords with a roll of her wrists, that action at least something she's familiar with.]

I'm trying to learn to dual wield and I thought this would be safer than using the lightsabers right off the bat.

[She's honestly given up on beating around the bush with the whole Jedi thing at this point. It's pointless, what with Finn going around telling anyone who will listen about her and the fact that she goes everywhere with Luke and Leia's sabers clipped securely to her belt.]

[ see, clarice had been about to comment that she was pleasantly surprised rey can swing a sword and brawl but then she goes and says something that has clarice giving her a blank look, brows raised. ]

A light-what-now?

Lightsaber. One of these.

[She reaches behind her back for Luke's saber and then holds it out between them so that Clarice can see it in its inactivated state.]

It's like a laser sword. The blade can cut through anything, hence the practicing with things I don't mind losing. I'd hate to lose a hand this early into being a Jedi, it seems like it comes with the territory but I'm really not ready to make the leap yet.

[ normally, mal can nod of standing against a wall or sitting holding a rifle. sleep's not hard but injuries make it trickier, even if they're pretty much healed.

the battle with the kaiju took more out of him than he'd like to admit, though it's also probably one of the few parts of the mission that felt like it made sense and he could do something of value.

back on the station he spends most of his time sleeping or eating, wary of what's going on with a man that conveniently suddenly seems possessed instead of a crazy asshole. mal's not one to trust easy. so he avoids all that.

awake late at night, a snack's not a bad idea. in the kitchen, he steps in right as water over-boils and someone swears, there's the sound of feet hitting the floor. someone -- clarice. mal hasn't seen her since the train and they've been back for some time. ] You're pretty hard to find, you know. [ he has looked for her, but the problem is when mal's been sure he's figured out where she is she seems to vanish in the blink of an eye. or he's lost his senses, one of the two. ] What were you making?

[ she glances up when he approaches her, only just a little startled. she'd zoned out again after staring at the sad state of her noodles, so she hadn't even heard him come in. ]

Didn't realize you were looking for me, [ she hums by way of greeting, her brows lifting as she draws nearer. she doesn't quite know how to feel about that, the idea that anyone here would care enough to look. rather than mull over it, though, she happily pivots the conversation to the pot on the stove. ]

Ramen. Or what was supposed to be ramen, anyway. It's kind of just a congealed blob now.

[ she looks different than he'd last seen her on the train but it's clarice. mal's rooming with a three meter tall cybertronian and has befriended a man who claims to be a faery, so who is he to judge a change of hair and eye colour at this point.

it's a thought he would not have had months ago. here he is though. ] Of course, I was.

That or you're good at hiding. [ but then she speaks about food and mal's only got enough attention span for one thing when he's not straining. so. ] Ramen? [ he walks over and looks in the pot, raises a brow. ] Looks like it was noodles. Noodles still always taste okay even when you end up with a blob like that. [ that is to say, mal would eat it. his bar is on the ground here. ] You could probably add some vegetables or meat to them and they'd be okay. Unless you want to start over.

Edited 2022-05-31 03:57 (UTC)

[ there's a wry twist to clarice's lips at mal's comment — she can be very good at hiding when she needs to be. fortunately, she hasn't needed to be here. at least not yet.

that he'd think to look for her though — it's sweet. ]

No, I don't like seeing food go to waste. [ and, in her more desperate times, she's definitely eaten worse. ] But you might be right about the meat and vegetables though. Mind seeing if there's any to spare in the fridge?

Mm. [ a nod and hum of agreement, mal moves over to where the ice box is. the refrigerator as he's learned.

he opens the door, still amazed at something that can keep food cool without any ice. the wonder doesn't show on his face though as he starts to look through the shelves, rummaging through with purpose. ] Carrots, mushrooms, cabbage and uh... [ he opens a drawer and pulls something out. ] Tofu.

Any of that work?

I beg your pardon!

[ ah, it seems like the victim is none other than the proud diva herself, having been casually in the midst of a stroll in the forested room, enjoying the warmth of a false sun on her cheeks (knowing it's all fake helps a bit with not immediately succumbing to a pile of panic in being "outside").

she has a play in her hand — eurydice by sarah ruhl — that she'd been reading through, the curled back pages now lowered down to her side as she pouts, a slight visible pucker on her lips. ]

Here I was, simply minding my business, trying to enjoy one blissful day in this apparently chaotic space station with alien-possessed madmen running about, and I can't take two simple peaceful steps without someone throwing a metaphorical tomato in my face!

[ huffing as she is, there's certainly no way for her to even be aware that she's actually met the woman sitting there on that rock. at least in name. ]

[ at rita's initial outburst, clarice's hands already fly up, palms out in that universal gesture of surrender. she hadn't realized she'd had company, and it shows quite clearly on her face. but before she can explain herself the other woman has already launched into quite the rant... one that sounds like has been bubbling for quite some time now.

and, hey, clarice gets it. ]

Sorry. I was talking to myself. Didn't realize you were even there.

[ so maybe her little fit of anger isn't entirely clarice's fault, even if this really is a case of impeccably bad timing, since the pressures upon this station are certainly proving itself to be quite the heavy load upon herself.

but the last thing she needs is for her emotional outburst to suddenly transform her into a blob mid-garden, so she takes a breath, and then another, composing herself. ]

... ah. [ is she suddenly a little embarrassed? definitely not. her awkward chuckling life definitely isn't nervous. ] I see. Well, then ... no harm done, I suppose.

[ clarice watches the other woman steady herself, and wryly muses that she should be asking her for meditation tips. she seems to be very good at it. ]

I hope not.

[ she glances at the book in the woman's hand — a familiar title, which leads her to believe they might come from similar worlds. ]

But, uh. Last I checked, there are no alien-possessed madmen in here. Hopefully you'll be able to read your book in peace.

[ as if she, of all people, could be considered any kind of expert on maintaining composure. it's only sheer luck that she doesn't just melt into a puddle out of frustration right here right now.

at least, she isn't being judged for her outburst. that's one semblance of a good thing. ]

Not sure I could do much reading either way. Alien possession or not, there's too much on the mind.

[ maybe she should go clean something. grab a swifter and scrub the halls. that usually helps. but instead, she looks at the girl in front of her, sharp purple hair and bright green eyes, definitely in the category of unusual — something she falls into quite well. ]

You were, um ... was something distressing you? Something 'stupid'?

[This is the first time Clara's ventured out of the hole of depression otherwise known as her bed. She's slept or laid staring vacantly at the wall for the past couple of weeks. But at someone's insistence, she's trying to not cut herself off from the rest of the station. Not completely, anyway.

So she goes to the sunlight room, to try and appease those that are worried about her. She's not exactly expecting someone else to be in her brooding spot. And she certainly isn't expecting to be called stupid.

Pausing and pulling a thoughtful face, Clara simply shrugs her shoulders. She doesn't know the other woman, but she's got a point.]

I have my moments, same as anyone.

[She can't be clever all the time, obviously.]

Edited 2022-05-27 01:24 (UTC)

[ there's a slight chuckle from clarice, who'd taken note of clara's presence a mere second before her response. ]

Whether or not you do, it's not my business. [ she makes a gesture to the pond beside her, its surface rippling lightly with the wind. ] I was talking to myself. Figured I could use the pep talk.

That wasn't a pep talk. That was a down talk.

[Clara points out with an arched eyebrow, which quickly turns into a more sympathetic look. She's been at the point of calling herself stupid before, and figures there's a reason it's happening here.]

Want to talk about why you're feeling stupid?

[Where Clarice feels certain things aren't her business, Clara shows absolutely no restraint in making everything her business.]

[ there's a lift to clarice's brows, silently pointing out what clara already knows about herself, but not unkindly. ]

I was giving meditation another go, even though I already know it's not my thing.

[Clara gives a light shrug of her shoulders, arms crossing over her chest. She feels like she's intruding, and at least has the decency to look awkward about it.]

I think meditation might involve less scolding yourself.

[She offers as a suggestion, taking a step back.]

I wouldn't know for sure, I've never tried it.

[ clarice gives a light roll of her shoulders, straightening her spine, but the sigh of frustration is towards herself, not clara. ]

I had a foster mom who was really big into yoga. I think she overhyped it, to be honest. Can't imagine trying to find peace within yourself, when yourself is the problem works all that well.

[Clara takes note of the mention of a foster mother, but says nothing on the matter. The focus here is yoga, and relaxing. Something she needs to do more of herself.]

Sometimes it feels like we're our own biggest problem.

[She easily agrees, knowing for a fact she's her own worst enemy. So maybe she should do some yoga herself. She moves to sit down, but can't quite figure out the best position to sit in.]

Especially when you're adjusting to being in a place like this. I'm sure it's not you that's the problem. Not really.

[ Sleepless nights are more common for Peter than quiet ones, and he had long ago given up on resting regularly. And much like Clarice, when he can't sleep, he goes to the kitchen.

He doesn't recognize her when he walks in, because when they talked it was through text, and he'd never seen her face during the last mission either. Being arrested sucked for many reasons. However, Peter is familiar with the defeated look of someone who has just lost their food, and he can sympathize. ]

I cooked this morning, and I always do it for big groups. If you are hungry, I left some Johnny Marzetti casserole in the fridge. You just have to heat it up. [ Peter is used to cook for the Guardians, so he always makes enough food to feed a small army. He also went full midwestern for the recipe this time, since he was feeling homesick. ]

[ her head lifts at his voice, whipping around to watch him warily before he even gets to the part about the casserole. ]

...Thanks.

[ yeah, she'd heard about people's generosities here. a few were quick to correct her worries about the kind of people on the crew, how open-minded and caring they could be, but it's still a surprise when she comes across it.

she gestures to the too-soft noodles, defeated. ]

I probably shouldn't waste food, though. [ she's learned not to take it for granted, after all. ] But I'll keep your casserole in mind for later.

[ He smiles but keeps his distance, not wanting to stress out a newcomer, especially at this time of the night. ]

Eh, no problem. And I get it. I also hate wasting food, pretty much because back in his home it was either expensive, hard to find, or I had to eat some really questionable alien dishes. I was going to bake but it was mostly so I had something to do, I'm in no rush.

[ He won't bother her while Clarice finishes cooking. Peter moves towards the fridge as he talks, and opens it to grab a bottle of juice. ]

Nice Peter, Peter Quill. Nice to meet you.

[ River spends a lot of time in the false outdoors. She feels restless, cooped up...trapped in a way. Not helped by the way she's withdrawn these past months. Even simulated outdoors, she's decided, is preferable to continuing to wander the halls day and night. And she avoids the actual simulation room as much as possible.

She doesn't mind sharing the space. Fortunate, given their growing numbers. But she doesn't often seek out their company, and until her outburst, she'd paid little mind to the younger woman.

Turning to look at her, she arches an eyebrow with a bemused smile. ]

Problem?

[ clarice, at least, has the grace to look sheepish upon realizing someone had overheard her. she holds a hand up in wordless surrender. ]

Don't mind me, I was just talking to myself.

[ she gestures towards her reflection in the pond, as if that might somehow make the act of doing so any less strange. ]

Are you alright?

( she'd walked into the kitchen just to see the overflowing pot, the heat of it evidently, though she'd not been able to react quick enough to channel to try and help control the water before it seemed the woman did.

but if she' injured she'll at least offer healing )

[ some of the water had splashed onto clarice's finger as she reached down to switch the burner off, but said finger is currently in clarice's mouth right now, receiving that good ol' fashioned kind of healing. (though magical assistance wouldn't be unwelcome). ]

Yeah, m'fine.

[ she waves her free hand at the pot. ]

My dinner's toast, though.

[ "dinner." as if this isn't the third time she's eaten that evening. ]

What is it that you intended to make?

( she's still getting used to this kind of kitchen herself, of the way it's laid out and the items within it. so she's curious at what others do and know )

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breathe in, breathe out

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practice makes impatient

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cheer up sleepy jean

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breathe in, breathe out

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breathe in, breathe out

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sleepy jean

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breathe in, breathe out

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—— cheer up sleepy jean

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