Life is like a hurricane

[gentlemenpreferblondes]

Who: J and everyone else
When: Thorough the first half of the month
Where: Suites, bartering block, bar, hall of music
What: A catch-all log for J.
Warnings: Description of an injury on ooc part.



(OOC: Even though I'm using female pronouns for J she's currently appearing like as a man. Her other cheek is injured as she sports a big scar that covers almost half of her face and there are darker burn marks around the edges.

Also feel free to use action tags! I will match.)

So come down, this is SUITE life

Like any sensible person, or so J would like to think, the first thing that J does after recovering from the shock of arrival is to look out residential sectors. Ok, granted it was rather new thing for her considering that the past few months she had just drifted from place to place without any greater plan or stable residence. But seeing that they were stuck inside a closed space station for a while, bumming a place from someone's bed wasn't going to work out the same way.

Once she gets to the area it's not difficult to pick which section to choose. The cat piss was no go from the start. Lining up for bathroom each morning? No thanks. And the small bedrooms in the hallway were cold and miserable. The suites, however? They were perfect and J couldn't help but wonder why they weren't more popular among the refugees from Thisavrou. She picks a room from Unit 2, a place that she believes to be empty from others, leaving a door open as she moves in front of window to admire the view for a brief moment, feeling quick passing calmness before taking few steps back and falling on the bed. She closes her eyes but she get anywhere near falling asleep as she hears something unsettling that makes her jump off the bed as it had been on a fire.

"Please fuck no," she says to herself as she braces herself for the worst and grabs the mattress, throwing it on the floor to inspect the underneath of it and--- nothing. Not on the bedframe nor on the mattress. Then she moves next to wall and carefully scratches the wallpaper with her finger, only to see it to come off.

Well. Isn't this just her luck.

She sighs out loud, cracks her neck quickly and leaves to investigate the other rooms to see what kind of state they are. Or whether there'd be any better mattresses around.

Fashion first

J might feel disgusted with her looks thanks to the big, ugly, glaring scar that's permanently decorating her face. It's been few months since she was stripped off all the pretended glamour and beauty, and she's somewhat used to her descended state and loathe that waited her every time she accidentally caught the sight of her reflection.

But that still didn't mean she had to accept or be satisfied with her sad state of clothing. There was something ironic that she had been wearing the clothes that Kavinsky had left behind after his death. After all, that asshole ex-lover of hers is the real cause for her injuries. And if there had been people living in this station they must have left some clothing behind.

So, she's going through the storage units near the bartering blocks, pulling the metallic cabinets open, which most of them were unfortunately empty. And those that weren't? Well, the objects that she could find inside them were nothing but worthless junk: empty containers, bottles, cable ties and broken glass. All which only served to rouse her frustration.

Eventually, however, her luck turns around as she comes across a section where the spare linens are stored. Finally something useful. But it's just like they say: don't count your chickens before they're hatched. As it turns out that just as she believes to have hit the jackpot with her quest for clean clothes: the following cabinets and cupboards turns out to be locked.

"You can't be shitting me," she groans out loud as she first tries to open them by force, failing beautifully of course. After a quick moment of a temper tantrum she calms down, takes a deep breath and leans closer to the lock. Then, slowly, she blows hot air out between her lips -- hot enough to burn. She can definitely do this the hard way.

You, me and alcohol makes three

It's a bar in a space so of course J goes there.

She had just had rather unlucky raid of the kitchen finding nothing but unappetizing looking nutrition bars, which had led her to further investigations. She's holding an unopened Saylent Blue bar in her hands as she walks through the bar as a rather nostalgic feeling washes through her.

Their little bar on Moira was so much better, she thinks to herself as she walks to the other side of the counter, sitting on it like it's the most natural place for her. She eyes bottles in front of her and hums quietly. No moonshine? That's a pity.

She slides off the counter so that she can reach one of the bottles. The cork is surprisingly difficult to open, no doubt it's gotten stuck within the time, but after a little struggle she manages to take it off. But that's also when overly sour and vinegary smell hits her nose, as if the liquid was deeply offended for being waken up from such deep sleep. Without caring about the angry spirit J raises the bottle to her lips and takes a brave gulp.. Almost spitting the drink out just from the awful taste alone. God, this is worse than her first time tasting alcohol as a younger teen.

Somehow she manages to swallow the bitter liquid but that doesn't stop the shivers shaking her entire body. The drink is obviously gone bad within the time. Oh well, that doesn't stop her from taking yet another gulp from the neck of the bottle. If it's anything like to her first drunken experience, she should get used to the taste.


Play us a song, you're the piano man.

Well now.

The hall of music is certainly something that J didn't expect to find from abandoned space station. And for once.. She's not exactly sure what to think of it.

In other hand she did love the idea of it, that there was such quiet and private. The greenery was fine but J had always been more of a culture and music person than a garden person. But then again, in a way the whole setting felt nothing but a mocking reminder of what she used to do -- what she used to have. A glamour in the spotlight, cheered and loved by everyone. There's no way she can be star anymore like this, right?

A nasty sting twists and turns in her stomach as she walks past the stage, her eyes focusing down on the hard floor so that she wouldn't look at the audience even in an accident, right up to the piano that's placed in the corner near the curtains. She sits down on the stool and gently blows the dust off the keys. There's surprisingly little of it, which must mean that there had been others here before her. Makes sense.

Carefully she presses one of the keys and listens to the sound it makes. It's awfully off the tune, just like. How fitting.

"Aa-aa," J tries out her voice as she keeps presses the keys one by one, trying to see if she could match the sound. Needless to say, it doesn't work out like before. And even though her voice had healed pretty well, it was still quite difficult to reach the higher sounds. Plus, she's no pianist, which definitely comes across from her "playing."

WILDCARD

You know how this goes. Create your own adventure and so.

Comments

suite life/wildcard!

[callamities]

[The last J was in her new room, she had left it in a state of minor disarray. Mattress and associated bedstuff had been thrown to the floor, bed frame and springs laid bare—it hadn’t been a pretty sight. She also may remember that she had left the room empty.

Which is why she may be surprised when, later, she returns to find her bed neatly made and a blond figure with his back to her standing next to it, seemingly worrying over the wallpaper. He doesn’t notice her behind him, so he doesn’t say anything in greeting—though J may notice a quiet but quick ticking noise coming from his direction.

He raises a hand to the strip of wallpaper she had scratched off earlier, trying to press it back with a disapproving hum. At least he seems to share her dismay with the state of the room.]

come here roomie!

[gentlemenpreferblondes]

[Her little venture to the other rooms didn't turn out to be as successful as she had hoped. The only useful thing she managed to find was a more softer blanket from the room next to hers. Feeling mildly better than earlier she backtracks to the room which she had claimed as her own before. But once she reaches the door, which had been left open sure, J stops and frowns as her eyes land on the stranger facing the wall.

That's weird. She was sure that this was the right one.]

What are you doing? [She calls out and throws the folded blanket from her arms on the bed.]

well hi there :P

[callamities]

[Calla flinches at the sudden voice behind him and again as something is thrown past him onto the bed. The question doesn’t bode well, either. Is he in the wrong place?

He turns sharply and finds himself facing a Creator staring at him dubiously. A huge scar takes up almost half of their face. He tries hard not to stare.]

My apologies, [he says on instinct.] I was just— I thought— [His eyes dart around the room.] I mean—is this Unit 2?

[gentlemenpreferblondes]

[Oh. Isn't he a nervous one? Despite the bluntness in her word choices, she hadn't been exactly hostile or aggressive. J, too, quickly glances around the room before her eyes target back on him.

She's very aware when his gaze visits the scar on her cheek, so she's not bothering to hide her own curiosity about the white markings on his face.]

Um. Yes. This is?

Fashion First

[magneticfields]

The complex is in such a state of disarray that Erik has found himself having difficulty choosing which project to tackle first. The workshop is simple enough. Clear out the debris, fix the lighting, create flexible workstations. His other, more ambitious project is going to take more time and resources, and he's already resigned himself to the fact that it he is to get the most results out of it, he will have to launch it in a less than ideal state.

A few days ago he had been able to find some work clothes while rummaging through the storage containers. (Which he is wearing now, as scavenging is dirty work and he can't risk his one unstained shirt in the endeavor.) And so there he returns in search of more resources. Even if it's simply another outfit, perhaps something casual that's a little warmer than what he was wearing when he was taken from Bolivia. The complex is remarkably colder than a South American summer. And of course, if he happens to see anything appropriate for an eleven year old, Laura may get a sweater as well.

As he made his way through the lockers, it appeared that somebody had gotten there before him. Perhaps even multiple somebodies. As he got deeper into it, he could hear the sounds of somebody else moving about. He approaches cautiously. Everybody he has met on the complex so far has been friendly to the point of naïveté, but that does not mean there are none who are more wary.

Finally, he finds somebody fiddling with a lock. He can't make out much in the gloom other than a slight form and a flash of blonde hair. "Pardon me," he says in a polite tone. "I didn't realize anybody else had noticed these lockers."

[gentlemenpreferblondes]

She hears the careful footsteps approaching before the voice but it's the latter one that makes her react and flinch. Not out of surprise, no, but because she knows the said voice and it's been quite long.

Moving away from the locker and immediately stopping whatever she's doing, looks up and slightly parts her lips.

"Oh, look what cat dragged in." She murmurs as she scans him with her eyes. At least this time he's not covered in blood. "These people tend to be rather thorough here."

[magneticfields]

Again, he is greeted by a complete stranger as if she knows him. It is an exceptionally disconcerting experience, not helped by repetition. Did he somehow forget a significant portion of his life? Does he truly have a doppelgänger he will one day have to confront and destroy?

Forewarned is forearmed. And it is unlikely his doppelgänger knows about him, so he will have the advantage on that fateful day. Which is not today, as this woman is clearly not him. He arches an eyebrow as she eyes him. She's still hidden mostly in shadow. "They tend to be, when resources are scarce. What about this one," he tilts his head toward the locker. "The ones that are still locked tend to have more inside."

More of what was always a gamble. Could be useful things. Could be worthless things like files or luxuries that nobody has any use for. Could be horrible things.

[gentlemenpreferblondes]

He doesn't recognize her. It's everything but a rare occurrence at this point but what does come to J as surprise is that how much it bothers her. She and Erik hadn't been exactly close the last time aside from the few nightly conversations they shared while living under the same roof. Or maybe what bothers her the most is what she knows about him. That he is Peter's father.

Her gaze might linger on him just a little bit too long before she tears her eyes away, forcing not to look for any similarities between him and Peter, and focuses back on the closed drawers.

"No shit." She says, flat toned. "You think you could get these things open by any chance?"

[warandpeace]

Play us a song, you're the piano man..

Starting over and over and over again. Finding new routines almost becomes a routine itself. In his first days after the loss of his mother, he found himself having to shake off standard morning thoughts to check the hospital to see how she's doing. After losing motherbase, he'd still find himself wondering about the outcome of missions that were doomed to remain incomplete as he sat over coffee that he expected to be Colombian but failed in the venture. When he first came to the Moira, he'd wake up expecting he'd have to work out which teams he meant to send out or what complaints he needed to address to increase morale.

After the loss of the Moira he'd have to shake off thoughts of walking to the gardens for food (even with the ship in a wrecked heap). Now with this disaster, gone are his daily walks to work, his walks home, playing his guitar in a corner booth.

A new routine, he supposes, will be finding somewhere else to play.

Kaz walks into the hall of music, following the sound of the piano with his acoustic guitar strapped across his shoulders. It's not exactly pleasant- the piano is out of tune, and the press of each key screams of someone trying to remind the instrument of how to work rather than someone attempting an actual song (at least at first).

Then the voice starts- a scratchy version of a familiar one, deeper and rawer. He's not seen what J looks like yet in this new skin. He doesn't even fully recognize the musician as the blond when he enters; facial resemblances and scars have skewed him. But he comes towards the stage, hoping to not interrupt whoever that is.

[gentlemenpreferblondes]

After pressing each key in a row, J returns to the beginning and starts over again -- this time adding more force to her fingers as she tried to coax louder and steadier sound. She gets to the half-way on the key sequence before she stands up from the stool to peek inside of it to see the strings. That's also when the figure on the other side of stage catches her attention.

She turns to look at him over her shoulder, the healthy side of the face showing first, to get a better look at the fellow music lover. Oh. If it isn't the Mr. Handsome, she thinks to herself. Too bad she's not exactly in the mood to engulf him the same way she usually does.

"You can come over. I won't bite you," she calls out to him and sits back down on the stool.

[warandpeace]

He pauses at the tone. And turns to the familiar and unfamiliar scarred face.

Kaz, to his credit, had genuinely assumed J to be a woman in her mid-twenties rather than a biologically male youth. But what he sees, oddly, is a male looking J.

He actually wonders if some of them changed genders before arriving at Avagi 'cause that's something he didn't prepare for.

"J?" he asks once, carefully, just to check. But he is coming over towards that lonely piano.

[gentlemenpreferblondes]

"The one and only."

That's a look of confusion and disbelief that J recognizes.

She's never been too bothered with the idea of people knowing about her she is and what she's not. Back in New York Arther made sure that everyone she came contact with knew that her appearance is more deceiving than what one would first think, so there's never been a reason to raise a noise about something like that. And in Moira and Thisavrou? People.. hadn't exactly cared, save for few selected ones. So she stopped counting ages ago who knew and what and how. Because it hadn't mattered.

But this is different isn't it. She's not letting him -- or anyone else for that matter, to know by a choice.

"What's matter, big guy? You look like you've seen a ghost."

fashion!

[flexing]

[ Zarya is on the hunt for... well, for whatever she can find, frankly. She's technically working with next to nothing, and if she's going to be here for a while, she'd really better prepare herself.

She could start with something to wear besides her armor.

So she's perusing the cabinets, enormous gun in hand (you can never be too careful... and it it's very useful for getting into the more reluctant cabinets), with a bag draped over one arm and already filled with a few odds and ends. It's like shopping, sort of.

Her company comes into sight, and Zarya's mood quickly brightens. This place is so big, and so empty, it's good to see anyone. ]

Hello there! [ She frees up an arm from her heavy cannon for a moment to offer a wave. And her new company is... really intent on that lock, apparently. What's that guy up to? Quickly, just in case: ] Do you need help?

[gentlemenpreferblondes]

[J's still crouching down in front of the lock. There's already nice warmth growing within the back of her throat as the small flame starts awaken. It's been few days since she's done this the last time so she's being careful with 'heating up.' That all, however, is interrupted when she's all of sudden addressed. J's mouth snaps shut as if she had been caught doing something bad and turns to look at the---

J looks at her with her eyes wide, expression almost shocked. That is one hell of a woman. Or is that even a woman? How could one be so...]

A-a. [She blurts out. Not very eloquent introduction. Then her eyes wander to the cannon next to her, which too, is very very big. Suddenly people like Hawke and Shepard start look like girly princesses in her mind.]

I - I, um. Yeah. I could use some help.

[flexing]

[ It's an expression Zarya has seen on many faces many times before, particularly on a first meeting, so she does what she always does. She ignores it. ]

It looks like you have locked yourself out. No? [ She says it with a friendly wink. She wouldn't normally advocate breaking locks and rooting through personal affects, she'd actually be pretty opposed to that -- but this is a unique situation. ] This happens. I will help.

[ She edges in nearer, lifting the bulk of her cannon -- easily 150lbs of metal -- and nods for J to step safely to the side. ]

[gentlemenpreferblondes]

No, I um-- [She mumbles, still feeling speechless from the shock. It's not exactly her locker and for a brief moment she wonders if she should tell the woman that.

But before the words can form and find the shape on top of her tongue she's already asked to move and well.. She's not sure if she could bring herself to say no to her, whether she wanted or not. So, she straightens her back and steps away from the locker and moves behind the woman.]

Be my quest.

piano man

[wallride]

Lúcio emerges from the shadow. It's very dramatic.

"J," he says, carefully. He hadn't actually been waiting for her or anything, he'd just been checking out what the hall of music (literally his jam) had, whether he could do anything with it. All signs point to no, but the noise J was making drew his attention.

He wouldn't tell her, but for a moment he genuinely thought she was crying out for help.

"You okay, ma'am?"

[gentlemenpreferblondes]

His voice manages to catch her by a surprise, making her flinch a little and slam several piano keys with her fingers. The eerie, disorganized sound bounces against the wall and fills the empty space with an echo. Her free hand moved automatically on her chest to cover her heart.

"Shi--" She breathes out deeply and spins around on the stool to see who it was and -- well. There's another face she didn't expect to see ever again.

"Seems like ghosts are gathering here."

[wallride]

"Ah-- sorry. I didn't know if I had to knock, but there wasn't anything to knock on and it would've been weird--"

He stops himself.

"Guess so. You doin' okay, J?"

closed to cloney/nova

[gentlemenpreferblondes]

[After ushering her new roommate away, a task that didn't prove out to be much of a challenge, J gathered all the needed equipment that she had at hand... which, unfortunately, wasn't that much. She set up a chair in middle of room and in front of a table where she had placed a chair. A comb, towel and package of tissues. That's all that she really has on her but luckily her "guest" had the most important with her.

But to be honest, she's not exactly sure how to feel about this deal. Sure, under normal situation teaching someone how to put up makeup and alter their look would be a piece of cake but.. this situation is far from what she calls 'normal.'

Well, either way. At least she will be getting something good out of her trouble. She waits patiently and when the promised time ends there's a knock on her door.]

Come in.

[petridish]

[One thing Nova hasn't really thought to pursue in her slow journey of self discovery is fun, or even relaxation. Just about everything she does has a purpose of some kind. So while adjusting her style is, as she'd said to this J person on the new network she'd worked so hard on, a new side project for her as a change from programming, it's still first and foremost a way to set herself apart as her own person visually.

[She enters holding her PacDisc, and enlarges a bottle of alcohol given to her from a sympathetic Savrii guard in Region 6, placing it on the table.]

What do you want to start with?

[She gives J (she assumes it's J, being in the right room and all) a curious look, wondering if they've met before, but the scars and general get up don't look familiar, just something in the face.]

[gentlemenpreferblondes]

[Once her quest is inside she walks past her, pushes the door closed and gestures her to sit on the chair she's set on the middle of room. J has definitely seen her around. It's Shepard's double, twin, doppelganger or whatsoever. It's always been something that's made her wonder quite bit -- actually it had taken embarrassingly long time from her to realize that they weren't a same person -- but she's only once came across to her like this before. And even back then it had just been exchanging few words and nothing more.

So it's only understandable that she keeps casting curious looks at her as she walks over, leaning on the table.]

You tell me. It's you who wanted to change.

fashion first

[imperceptus]

[ Rin's standing behind J, having appeared out of apparently nowhere.

(In truth, he heard the clatter and came to investigate, but he moves more or less like a cat: silent and careful, until he wants you to know that he's there.)

He leans forward slightly, his long braid falling over his shoulder, his expression thoughtful. ]

That's a fancy trick. I could probably speed up the process, though.

Sorry for the late reply!

[gentlemenpreferblondes]

[Her breath had turned hot enough and a first spark of flame was just about to leave between her lips when an unfamiliar voice speaks, coming right out of blue (pun not intended) and startles J.]

Holy-- [A scared yelp escapes from her as she flinches backwards from her crouched position, mouth then snapping closed. Somehow she had completely missed the man approaching her, there had been no sound of footsteps or breathing as if he had been conjured out from thin air.

Which raises a question: how much did he see?]

You know. It's not nice to spy on others, dear.

no worries!

[imperceptus]

No spying.

[ He holds up his hands, as if to say 'nothing shady here'. ]

Just passing by. You weren't exactly being quiet in here, you know.