thisavrou_log | Life is like a box of chocolates

Life is like a box of chocolates

Who: Trish Walker and you
When: Tail end of first week of March
Where: Garden and Bruce's room
What: Sullenly eating chocolate and cursing the existence of Feelings
Warnings: Will add if necessary

Garden

When a man and a woman like each other very much... they sometimes come to the conclusion that it would still be best if they didn't make things complicated by trying to have a relationship whilst traveling through space in a ship whose captains kidnapped them from another dimension.

And sometimes, even knowing that that decision really is a very sensible and mature way of handling things, the woman decides to hang up a blanket between a couple of bushes, wrap herself in another blanket and sit in her little makeshift tent and eat chocolate and drink a lot of something that at least tastes a lot like milk. She's never sure about anything she gets from the mess hall here, in all honesty.

Look, sitting alone in her bed just made her think of Bruce's bed and that just started up a whole cycle of sad thoughts so she decided to go for whimsy.

She's sitting cross-legged and balancing a notepad on one knee, thoughtfully chewing on a piece of chocolate as she tries to come up with what to talk about during the following day's broadcast. "Interstellar dating" it says on the top of the page, though she isn't actually going to ask anyone on board about their love lives. She's just brainstorming a bit because it beats sitting around dwelling on her own frustration.

It's a crush. It'll pass.

If it doesn't, she might start breaking things.

Insomnia crisis (closed to Bruce)

For a while there, Trish went back to pretty much hardcore ignoring Bruce because she simply couldn't figure out how to talk to him without screaming 'KISS ME, DAMN IT' with her entire being, which not only felt uncomfortably needy but also wasn't at all a good step in the whole 'let's be friends' direction that they have sort of agreed to take.

It does help a lot that Jessica is on board now, since that kind of shifted her emotional centre of gravity in a big way. She still aches for Bruce pretty much all the time, but he's definitely not the person on board that she's closest to anymore.

That said, when night comes creeping and she can't sleep, it's not Jessica's arms she wishes she could feel around her, and eventually she just sort of cracks and gets out of bed to make her way over to Bruce's room and knock on the door.

Threaded | Flat

It was impossible not to notice that Trish was ignoring him, but after their talk, Bruce can't really blame her. In fact, he thinks that this, much like everything else they decided on, is for the best. Unlike what some people believe, absence doesn't make the heart grow fonder, even if in the span of a few days it's hard to see that.

With time, he hopes, that'll change. But then there's the fact that they're stuck on a spaceship together, and it's only a matter of time until they run into each other somewhere. Makes the whole thing a lot more complicated, and Bruce doesn't even know if avoiding each other will do anything but make them hurt even more in the long run.

But it's for the best. It's what Bruce tells himself as he goes on with his routine, does his work, has his meals, goes to sleep, while trying (and failing) to not listen to her broadcast. Having a head full of her voice probably isn't the smartest move right now, but anyway.

At least at night he has time on his own to just relax, forget about everything by diving himself into a book and get lost in the pages until sleep weighs his eyelids down. The knock on the door is unexpected, though, Bruce's eyes lifting to the door for a couple of seconds before he sets the book down on the bed and gets up. Glasses still on, he's already in a T-shirt and sweatpants, clearly dressed for bed, but he doesn't really care that that's how he looks when he walks over to the door and opens it.

His expression immediately opens in surprise, though it's brief and discreet, shoulders squaring as he straightens up just so.

"Trish." Why yes, genius, she knows who she is. His eyes scan her briefly, settling on her face again, as if that'll help him decipher why she's here. "Is everything alright?"

Of all the things Rosethorn expected to find during another of her probably-too-frequent, she-really-ought-to-spend-more-time-outside-of-work visits to the garden, a blanket tent wasn't one of them. She makes her usual stop at the altar, plucking an errant kitten's claws from the sleeve of her robe after a brief prayer, before heading over to investigate.

Like the tent itself, its occupant comes as a surprise when she peers in and sees Trish. She thought maybe one of the children had built it, since it's definitely not needed for shelter in the middle of a ship.

"Is this a private tent, or would you welcome company?" Company entails Rosethorn and the single kitten in her hand, for the moment, but where one kitten goes, the others will follow. They're particularly fond of Rosethorn.

Foggy doesn't really get along with nature, and that includes fake nature. Or real nature in a fake environment? Central Park's alright, but mostly to angrily throw bread crumbs and pigeons after a break up.

There are no bread crumbs nor are there pigeons, and Foggy hasn't bothered contemplating anything since coming here. Not about relationships, or the meaning of life. It's mostly been 'why does this feel strangely like college all over again, but with lasers and space ships.'

That's the reason he's in the gardens, and as he makes his way around he's pleased that, however weird said garden is, some thing resemble earth. There's trees, at least. And not...everything else.

The tent sticks out as a sore thumb, makeshift or no, but he's unsurprised when he pokes his head in and notices Trish. It seems like an incredibly Trish thing to do, eat chocolate and..

His brow raises.

"Are you waiting for a date, Miss Walker?"

It was impossible to miss the blanket fort in the garden. It was even less hard to notice the grown woman inside, very clearly eating lots of chocolate.

Peggy considers not bothering her. She's very clearly distressed by something, otherwise she wouldn't be doing this, but whether that meant she truly wanted to be alone or not was the question. Then again, if she didn't want to be bothered, she shouldn't be out in a commons area.

At the very least, she decides to check on her, peaking around the edge of the blankets and offering a small smile, but also a look of concern.

"Are you alright, dear?"

Things were always pretty easy to read when it came to Trish. She actually tended to show her emotions in front of people, unlike her. She hadn't pushed the topic too much, considering there was already plenty to deal with... But, when something caused her sis to actually go off and mope in a makeshift tent in a garden? Well, maybe it's time to push that up to the top of her priority list.

Grabbing a few props on the way, she moves towards Trish's hiding spot which on a ship like this wasn't all that hard to find.

"Ok, take a kitten and start talking." It's worth a shot. People like cuddly fuzzy things, right? Besides, it's a better opening than who's ass do I need to kick - although it's on the tip of her tongue.

If it's any consolation, Trish isn't the only one who's been having a shit week. Robin showed up on a strange planet a little less than a week ago, and it's pretty much been downhill since then.

A full six-and-a-half days later, the young girl has finally been dragged aboard the Moira, given her MID and examined and all the other good stuff that comes with arriving through the Ingress. Now, just a few hours after her boarding, she's still exploring the place. She's still quite dirty from a week surviving on Ceta's surface, and her face and hands are covered with bruises and scratches, and her hair doesn't look like it's been washed in sometime - after all, how could she even think about washing up when she hasn't scoured this ship for potential exits and hiding places in case there's trouble?

Which is precisely what Robin is doing as she wanders into the ship's garden. Her eyes are wide - she has to admit, she hadn't expected to see something like this aboard a spaceship of all things. It doesn't take her long, however, to discover the blanket fort in the middle of the garden with a sad, chocolate eating woman inside. And, after that discovery, it takes even less time for her to poke her head inside.

"Hey. Can I have some of that?"

They've barely been on this planet for a week, and already Pepper is lamenting the fact that she can't leave the ship. Not that there's a lot to see down there, if rumors are to be believed, but something in the idea of it, or maybe the fact that she's getting all her information secondhand rather than seeing it for herself, simply bothers her. Or maybe it's the ever present reminder of Extremis, a secret she keeps that's now keeping her as a prisoner.

Whatever the reason in the end, Pepper heads to the gardens just to feel like she's not entirely stuck on the spaceship. It isn't exactly outside, but it's better--and also curiosity inspiring when she sees the makeshift tent nearby. She really can't help but walk over, bending down a little to see who might be inside.

"Trish?" Not who she's expecting, to be honest. "I know it can be hard to share a room, but I didn't think things were this bad."

Threaded | Flat

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