text;

[alittlesweptup]

As apparently no one else is going to do it:

We're running missions to go digging dirt on the UE's past, but we need people to be doing info gathering here as well. Meaning we ought to have someone(s) go meet with this timeline's version of the Initiative to get as much information as possible. I know we're all feeling very cozy at the moment, but let's not pretend that it can't or won't change at the drop of a hat. Fortifying ourselves in bunkers isn't going to do us much good if we don't know what we're supposed to be defending against in the first place

Now as Christ knows I can't do it (I think we're all more than aware of what my version of diplomacy consists of), that means we need a set of proper volunteers - preferably with experience in this sort of field. If you or anyone you know might be suited to it, speak up so you can find one another and get a bloody away team wrangled

Comments

[alittlesweptup]

That's the beauty in it. You'd never expect it

[hyanaimne]

Oh, of course. Why did I not realize.

[alittlesweptup]

As you've no head for tactics or subtlety. Obviously

[Tactics. Subtlety. Charlie Cutter. It's like it's opposite day.]

[hyanaimne]

I've a head for tactics. Subtlety I can do without.

[RUDE. Though she hopes he's home, because there's a knock on Charlie's door]

[alittlesweptup]

[He is absolutely home, holed up in the flat's little drawing room.]

Quit knocking on my door. I'm not in

[hyanaimne]

How would you know I am knocking if you are not in? It is rude to keep a lady waiting.

[alittlesweptup]

It's rude to drop in uninvited

[But a moment later, the door opens anyway - wide enough for her to come in if it's what she likes.]

Don't punch me or I'll sock you right back.

[hyanaimne]

[she drops the fist she had prepared and laughs]

Then stop calling me a child and I won't have to start a fist fight.

[alittlesweptup]

[He wraps his fingers round the edge of the door, setting his cheek neatly against his knuckles. He gives her a satisfied, terribly knowing grin.]

Stop acting like one and I won't have any reason to do it. --Are you coming in or aren't you?

[hyanaimne]

[oh you bastard. But she'll restrain herself. For now]

Why, I would love to come in. [she inclines her head in mock-politeness and steps through the doorway]

[alittlesweptup]

[He makes a vague hand motion, guiding her through in the direction to the little parlor and shutting the door simply enough after her.

The flat is well furnished considering the restrictions of the market at present - the walls neatly painted, the furniture comfortable enough. He taps her on the shoulder as he moves past her into the sitting room, head inclined toward the kitchen through the doorway beyond.]

Cuppa tea, my darling?

[hyanaimne]

[it's almost strange, to be invited into someone's home and asked for tea. Strange because as far as she can remember, she's never been offered something like that.

She glances around, briefly, before she nods and smiles a bit]

I would love some, please.

[alittlesweptup]

Sit down then.

[His hand twitches out to the sofa and then he disappears into the kitchen. There's some clanking and clamoring, some mild swearing that seems habitual rather than genuine, but a few minutes later he returns with two steaming mugs, setting one before her on the trunk-turned-coffee-table.]

You're not seriously here to have it out with me, are you?

[He asks, not moving to sit and instead standing about in the middle of the room with his own cup in hand.]

[hyanaimne]

[she murmurs her thanks when he sets down the mug and picks it up, curling her hands around it. At the question she ducks her head, pretending to take a sip of tea to hide the grin on her face]

I was not planning all out brawl, but I was going to punch you.

[alittlesweptup]

Well, when you've the mind to do it give at least let us move out into the street before hand. Can't be wrecking the flat just because you're holding a grudge.

[He offers her a sharp grin, taking a sip from the steaming cup of tea. He's brewed it for slightly too long, compensating with slightly too much sugar.]

[hyanaimne]

Ah, so you want me to punch you in front of a group of people instead? My.

[she returns the grin, only making a slight face at the tea before she sips it. Even if it's a bit too sugary for her tastes, it's been a while since she's had tea in the first place. She can stand it]

[alittlesweptup]

Ah. Good point. Probably better not to give my neighbors more gossip fodder, eh?

[Worse than old women, the lot of them.]

[hyanaimne]

I think they have plenty already, yes.

[no old women are tame compared to some]

[alittlesweptup]

[He gives her a level look, taking a slow sip from his tea.]

I haven't the slightest idea what you're talking about.

[hyanaimne]

You know exactly what I am talking about.

[Charlie pls]

pardon all my icons are hilariously morose rn

[alittlesweptup]

[Tempest pls, that's vulgar.]

No, I really haven't.

[He downs another swallow of the tea before setting it - cup and saucer, yes he has saucers - on the glorified coffee table.]

Run any missions lately?

ur face is morose -- oh . . . oh wait

[hyanaimne]

I will leave it to mystery.

[she isn't surprised by the saucers, really; he seems like the type to have them. At the question, she shrugs a shoulder and sits back]

Not a one. Have you?

[alittlesweptup]

[He shrugs, impassive. Not really cagey, but sure as hell not trying to be terribly specific either.]

A few. Nothing terribly interesting. A favor for Lowell, but otherwise - no.

[hyanaimne]

I do not want to bother Ashraf for missions, so I haven't bothered seeking one, myself. [she takes a sip of tea] As much as I would like going somewhere a little warmer for a while.

[alittlesweptup]

Oh bother him; that's his job now apparently. It's certainly the one he volunteered for.

[Though he can hardly speak from experience; Nate had been rather keen to go running about when he'd asked to go jumping through time for a load of nonsense. Maybe Ashraf would be more selective about that sort of thing.]