thisavrou_log | bossiness gets everything done

bossiness gets everything done

Who: Clara Oswald & Alexander Hamilton
When: shortly after his network post laying out a plan of action
Where: On the beach
What: Clara takes it upon herself to be PR for someone she deems in desperate need of help.
Warnings: Nothing! These two will be respectful and pretty PG rated.

[Being friends with someone like Alexander Hamilton was a stressful situation. Not because of who he was or the fact she was awestruck by him, but because he talked an awful lot and seemed to not be able to control the habit. She took notice of how his post over the MID had divided people's opinions, and since she wanted some sort of reasonable resolution to security to come to the Moira, she takes it upon herself to help the person she thinks best suited to the task. And part of helping him means coming up with a plan to make his words concise, in order to keep the attention of the masses.

So she goes to the beach and waits for him under her giant red umbrella, dressed entirely informally for the occasion in her red bikini and heart framed sunglasses. She's sitting on a beach towel, with a second laid out beside her, empty and awaiting the arrival of her guest. On her lap are notecards she's picked up, with handwritten notes on all of them. She's taken the time to go over his lengthy speech on her MID and is attempting to whittle down his points to short and sweet messages that catch attention and lure people into agreeing with them rather than causing discussion where people might speak over him.

When Hamilton arrives, she's got the pen she's writing with held in between her teeth, as she re-reads what she's just written. She notices the shadow of someone approaching before she realizes that it's him. She glances up, lowering her sunglasses. And seeing that it's him, she offers a bright smile.]

About time you got here. I was worried you might change your mind about coming.

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[He meant it when he said he wouldn't dream of keeping her waiting. Clara Oswald does not seem the type to tolerate having her time wasted, and he'll admit to himself that he's intrigued by her take-charge attitude. What sort of life did she lead before being brought to the Moira? Women of the future had clearly carved out roles for themselves that were different than what 18th-century attitudes and biases would have predicted. Of course, women of his own time were certainly spirited and determined. The sharp-witted Angelica Schuyler never shied away from speaking her mind, and his dear Eliza was a very capable woman in her own right. Both ladies occupied very special places in his heart.

At any rate, they're meeting on the beach, which means wearing the proper beach attire that Jim put together for him. He arrives in green swim trunks, a pair of sandals, and a T-shirt that's emblazoned with the curious expression sun's out, guns out. (When asked what it meant, Jim was just like, "Well, it's obviously sunny outside, and so you have your artillery because....yeah", and Hamilton decided to just go with it anyway since it suited him.)

Of course, as much as he convinced himself he was ready for whatever Oswald threw at him, nothing could have prepared him for what she was wearing. He removes his sunglasses in disbelief. Before Hamilton can stop himself, he blurts:] ...Oh my god.

[Shit. Can anyone even call that a bathing costume? There's hardly anything there, and - jesus christ, he's staring. As soon as he realizes, Hamilton looks looks away and hastily shoves the sunglasses back onto his flushed face.

This isn't the kind of culture shock he expected, but it's not like a guy really knows what to expect when he's literally on a different planet.]

Okay. I, uhh...that's not what I expected...[He struggles with what to say next, but nothing comes out. Good job, Clara, you actually rendered Alexander Hamilton speechless.]

[His reaction confuses her, simply because she honestly hadn't thought too much about her attire before stepping out onto the beach. She's wearing what many other people are, just in a bright shade of red. So she stares up at him in confusion, climbing up to her feet in order to make sure everything's alright. It takes her a few moments to realize the time period he's from probably means he's never seen a woman he isn't married to dressed like she is.

It probably doesn't help him any that her realization just makes her smirk in delight. She's managed to fluster Alexander Hamilton. It feeds her ego wonderfully.]

Relax. [She laughs softly, reaching out to tap his chin with the non-writing blunt end of her pen. She tries to tip his face toward looking up into her eyes, still wearing that prideful grin.]

It's only a bathing suit. You're wearing one too. What were you expecting?

[There's a pause, as her eyes take in his shirt. And then go to his arms, for which she chuckles in amusement. Men.]

[Legend has it that Martha Washington named a tomcat after Hamilton during the war, so it’s not like he was a blushing virgin on his wedding night. Still, when he goes to meet someone to discuss the finer points of persuasive speaking, he doesn’t expect his attractive conversation partner to be so…well, naked. Or near-naked, anyway.

When she uses her pen to direct his gaze, he meets her eyes and gives a short laugh.]

I've got a shirt too, you know. [He may be wearing a bathing suit, but he still has some sense of 18th-century propriety.]

If this is the style of the 21st century, though, then it’s hardly the strangest thing I’ve seen I arrived here.

Maybe I'm testing you. [She's not. She just is too lazy to put on her coverup and ruin her tan. She's under an umbrella, but there's still sun somehow, and she's not about to put on clothes to make someone else feel more comfortable. No matter how much she respects them.]

What I'm wearing doesn't matter. Come on.

[She moves to sit down, motioning for him to do the same. Once he's adjusted, she scoots in close enough to share the notecards she's been working on.]

The issue with a lot of people is they're only willing to listen for so long before their attention wanders. I'm restructuring your points in a more concise way. I've also started grouping people on the Moira based on their responses to your post over your MID, so that we can predict future responses and prepare points accordingly.

[She's nothing if not eerily organized and narrowly focused on achieving her goals. Like a tiny British Leslie Knope.]

[Testing him, huh. Hamilton's lips quirk into a small smile.] Well, then. I'll make sure to be on my best behavior.

[With nothing to do except join her on the warm towel she kindly laid out for him, Hamilton takes off his sandals and settles down. His gaze wanders to the cards, eyebrows slanting and the corners of his mouth turning down with a silent "not bad" expression. Not many people have the drive to put together these kind of detailed notes, let alone for someone they just met. And she's still working on more. Hamilton can't fight his smile, and there's an excited gleam in his eyes.

A collaborator. It's been awhile since he had someone like that.]

Would you believe me if I said that was me being concise back there? [Damn, people, it was only ten minutes.] Grouping people like that, though...that's an excellent idea.

[She definitely believes that was him trying to be concise, but has unfortunate news about his audience.]

I'm also considering attempting to fit responders into a timeline. The further along the timeline goes, particularly if they're from Earth, the shorter their attention span will be. I come from a time when people get news and speak to one another in 140 text characters or less. Not everyone. But enough that I can blame Twitter for the demise of proper conversation.

[She tries to get him to understand just how little people are willing to listen to lengthy things for the most part, but she does realize that most of it fits into personality type. So she sticks primarily with her predicted response grouping, figuring that will serve him much better.

So she hands him over a few of the cards that she's already grouped people on, in four categories. The categories read: wants someone to follow (no convincing), needs subtle manipulation, resists change, and anti-authority (keep a close eye on). She's smiling contentedly as she waits for him to look them over. She knows that she's useful and does a thorough job, but it's always nice to see someone look actually happy about the things that she does.]

Edited 2016-06-10 17:37 (UTC)

[Incredulous, Hamilton raises an eyebrow.] Wait, hold on, are you serious? That's not even long enough for a short letter! How do you say anything useful?

[No doubt he'd just end up spamming other people with dozens of messages. It's probably for the best they don't have such limits on their MIDs, or else Hamilton would just trample all over them anyway.

But he's getting off-track, isn't he.] Okay, yeah. I clearly overestimated my audience's capacity for meaningful discourse. [God, and people are offended that he doesn't want to hand out voting ballots like candy to people the minute they arrive.

At any rate, he takes a good look at the cards Clara has already made. The "needs subtle manipulation" category in particular has him glancing in her direction, if only because it's just another reason why nobody should take this woman lightly.]

...This is really thorough, especially for such a short amount of time. I'm impressed. And you're suggesting come up with three or four distinct strategies of how to deal with each type?

I was thinking of a single, main strategy for each group. But you'd need a backup plan, of course. You can't venture into politics with only one plan.

[The fact that he glanced at her after seeing the manipulation card amuses her. It was a subtle look, but she had caught it all the same, and is pleased that he's taking her seriously. So many people don't, and it ends up being their mistake. It's good to see that he's sensible and knows what's best for him.]

There's nothing wrong with talking to hear yourself speak. But you'll find that just about everyone here enjoys doing that.

[She pulls up the network on her MID, scrolling through so he can see all the lengthy video and voice posts that are recent. She's sure he's already seen them on his own, so she fiddles with some things and pulls up some of the lengthy older ones as well. ]

It's not that people are incapable of having the attention to listen for ten minutes straight. It's that they prefer to hear themselves and only care about opinions that're their own, more or less.

It's the same for war, so I'm prepared to make a few contingency plans. [Politics generally involves fewer guns ~~most of the time~~, but he honestly learned a lot general life lessons from the Revolution.

He leans toward her, just close enough to get a clew view of her MID.]

Well. [His mouth twists into a smirk.] At least that's one thing that hasn't changed a whole lot. Back home, representatives are too blinded by love for their states to really put much stock in policies that would elevate the status of our nation, so you get a lot of hot air. It's one reason I wish the Captains would be a little more assertive and decisive.

I'm not sure that they want to be assertive or decisive.

[While he's looking over things, she leans off to the side to pull a couple of glass bottles of soda out of her bag. They're native to the planet, some sort of fizzy fruit thing that's likely too sweet but still nice on a warm day all the same. She also pulls out a bottle opener and pops the tops off, and then reaches in one more time and pulls out two straws. One goes in each drink, and she hands his over to him.]

Have you decided that getting into a position of power here is what you really want to do? I know you've seen war, but the powers and weapons that some people here have...

[It's nothing compared to what he's used to. The concern clearly shows on her face.]

You're right to doubt that. They would've done something by now, otherwise.

[His eyebrows raise at the unexpected refreshment. The bottle is still cool to the touch, and he smiles when he receives it.] Hah, you really do think of everything. Thank you.

[The question gives him pause, if only because he hasn't thought about the issue in those terms.] Honestly? I just wanna restore some order and sanity to the ship so some of us can go home as smoothly as possible. If I have to get into a position of power to do that, fine. If not? Great! It means other people are actually getting the job done for once, and I can engage in other pursuits.

[He lets out a small, frustrated breath. Clara clearly has his best interests at heart, and he appreciates that. At the same time...] I can't just stand by and do nothing, either way.

[She takes a long sip from her drink, thinking over what he's just said.]

The issue is, not all of us are from Earth. We can't just come in and force their expectations on what is essentially an alien society.

[She puts that as kindly as possible, to show that she doesn't mean any disrespect to him personally.]

I don't know if order's actually obtainable. We may need to redefine our expectations of what order looks like. I'm someone who can't ever leave well enough alone, so if you're not going to stand by and do nothing, you can count on me to stand with you. Long as you're working toward the greater good.

[There's a smile on her face as she looks up to him, since she assumes he's the sort who's always working toward the greater good.]

[Her kindness isn't lost on him, which drives the message home better than if someone had just popped off at him with whatever excuse people like to throw around on why they shouldn't be working for a better ship. After thoughtfully considering her words for a moment, he answers:]

...I get what you're saying. Alien society or not, though, I don't see why it's so unreasonable to expect a level of decorum where we're not punching anyone in the throat or stabbing them in the back. If some of us have codes of honor or social mores that can only be satisfied through violent means, then at least take it off the ship where no one has to see it. That's basically what soldiers back home did. It's not that hard.

[Hamilton is heartened by Clara's next words, and he offers her a confident smile in response.] If a public servant is truly serving the public, then they should always be working toward the greater good. That's what I aim to do, and I'm pleased to have your help, Miss Oswald.

[His confidence reassures her, and she abandons thought of strategy and planning in order to stretch out on her towel, hand resting behind her in order to keep her upright. She crosses her legs at the ankles and leans back, slowly turning to look over at him.]

You mentioned engaging in other pursuits before. What is it that you think you'd like to do?

[For her, helping him is a hobby. It could take up enough time to become another job, but it's a way to fill in her time so she's kept busy. But she does tons of other things too. She isn't sure that he even is aware of more modern sorts of things that he could be spending his time doing, and wonders if he needs help being educated in some of them. Her mind's already going toward taking him base jumping and out shopping, before he ever answers.]

[Sensing the shift in conversation, Hamilton finally takes a sip of his beverage. The carbonation tickles his tongue a bit, but not in a bad way. The sweetness is surprising too, but it's more pleasant than drinking some forms of straight alcohol, as so many people back home are prone to do.]

Learn more about interplanetary law, for starters, and then see if I can't use that knowledge to aid the Moira somehow. With the kind of people we've got in our rag-tag crew, it's only a matter of time before a few of us end up in legal trouble.

[For some, that may sound like a daunting task. But Hamilton prefers to stay busy too, especially when there's something (or someone, usually) he doesn't want to think about. There's a reason he threw himself so heavily into his law studies after losing Laurens, and now he's been torn from his family for the foreseeable future...]

[Her nose wrinkles up more and more, until she looks filled with distaste at his suggestion.]

But that's just another sort of work!

[Like she has any room to talk, taking on 3 job titles.]

What do you like to do for fun? You have to enjoy something that's not related to law.

What if I said I find work fun? [WHAT THEN, CLARA? But no, Hamilton punctuates his question with a cheeky smile, then adds:]

Reading, actually. I also write poetry sometimes.

[Seeing that cheeky smile, she gives him one in return, and lightly kicks at his leg. ]

There's a library on board the ship. And I hope you know I fully expect to hear some of your poetry. Beyond that, though.

[There's a pause, and she gives his leg another little push with her foot. That'll teach him to be cheeky in her direction.]

You're accepting my help in showing you all the fun things there are to do. You'll be lost without me.

Someone actually showed me the library not long after I came here. It's probably one of the few places that holds any sort of familiarity. [He'd half-joked about just sleeping in there instead of his assigned quarters, and he's still seriously considering it.] Don't worry, I'll make sure you're the first to see it if I ever pen a piece.

[As easy as it would be to instigate a foot war, it doesn't feel right to kick a lady, no matter how jokingly. Instead, Hamilton playfully nudges at her shoulder with the bottom portion of his half-empty bottle.]

Really now. Do people in your time confine their fun to 140 text characters too?

Some do. They're the sort that are better off avoided.

[She gives him a knowing look, as if she's the expert on the matter.]

I'm about to become an English teacher, back home. I could recommend some books to you, if you'd like. Ones that are a bit after your time.

[There's nothing better for her than curling up with Jane Austen, though she suspects that won't necessarily be something he enjoys.]

You have a hell of a lot of catching up to do, you know.

Believe me, I know. [He’s wearing a rueful smile at that. If there’s anything Hamilton hates, it’s being perceived as ignorant.]

An English teacher, though. [It’s spoken with a smile. Education set him free from a life of poverty, and reading played a crucial role, so he has an appreciation for that particular profession.] I’d be interested in stocking up on some of your recommendations, then.

I could write you a list.

[She suggests it with a eh tone to her voice, as if she doesn't really approve of the method.]

But I think I'd like to take you there myself. Suggestions work better when you're able to actually read pages together.

[The prospect of having him in the library for an extended stretch of time sounds much better. They could start a book club! Or at least spend hours pouring over books and drinking tea.]

That would be nice.

[The weight of a book of his hands, the smell of paper, the quiet whisper of the page as it turns...it's the closest thing he has to an old friend on this ship, and it would be far more comfortable to him than lounging on the beach.

The ocean air and gritty sand are too quick to stir up childhood memories Hamilton would rather not think about.]

I'm looking forward to checking out the selection here. I've got a repertoire of witticisms to keep up with, after all, and books give me plenty of fresh ammunition to throw at people.

[He's mainly talking about literary allusions and kernels of knowledge, but let's be real...he's not above hurling an actual book at someone either.]

Careful with some of the newer ammunition you might find. There's tempers here that could lead to an actual fight, if you say the wrong thing.

[But still, if it's ammunition he wants in the form of words, she can help provide that to him. She's already calculating a list in her mind, and plans on heading to the library right after this to see what she can find for him.]

Are you much of a fighter, if you don't mind my asking?

[Really, she needs to know if she needs to play bodyguard for him on top of PR. Her eyes look him over, up and down a few times. It's hard to tell how he'll do if someone gets bothered by what he says, and it's not as if she can hop up and stand and ask him to fight her. Something tells her he's not going to fight a lady.]

Well. [The word is punctuated with a dry smile.] I should feel right at home, then.

[If you talk, you're gonna get shot, Burr had once told him. It hadn't stopped Hamilton then, it sure as hell isn't stopping him now. He's got a home, a family to go back to, and he'll scratch and claw at anyone who stands in his way.

Oswald's appraising gaze isn't lost on Hamilton, but he doesn't fidget or shy away. He may not be a wealthy man, but he's got a wealth of experience.]

In essence and in every sense. [Hamilton's smile from before twists into something sharper, more defiant.] I should've died a long time ago, but I'm still here. When you're living on borrowed time, you've gotta take a stand, make every second count.

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bossiness gets everything done

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