cognitivus | Meadowlark Inbox

[Lance has been mostly avoiding Red Wings ever since The Incident.

He knows it isn't necessary, especially now that things have calmed down a little, but he's still hesitant all the same; not only does he not want to run into some people in specific, he also just generally doesn't have the energy to be around a ton of people and then also have to fake being okay with that. So it hasn't been a place he's been stopping by much.

However, he does occasionally end up nearby, especially when directing some of the now thankfully less in number people who needs a little help after the Aerie. That's why he's milling around about a block away, having just sent someone toward the building and getting ready to wander back out into the city.

But there's someone coming this general direction, and that wouldn't be noteworthy except that the person has short hair; of course it's not like the style is absolutely unique to Displaced, but combined with the location it's kind of an easy guess. So, when he's near enough to not have to raise his voice, Lance offers a small smile and asks--]

New here?

[It's vague enough not to be suspicious if this isn't a Displaced, but also hopefully pointed enough to catch attention if it is.]

( Red Wings is the first place somebody leads him when they finally open the front door. He's been there once, but it was the very first day and drugs were still very present in his system. The whole thing had been disorienting, and although he could probably remember the path if he peeled at the layers of his brain long enough, it's far easier to follow a guide. He goes not because he's particularly taken with the owner or her associates, but because it's made abundantly clear it's one of the central safe havens in the event of an emergency. Good to know the landscape around it.

He has no intention to actually eat there. It seems like a way better idea to familiarize himself slowly with places other than just the two points and the straight line in between. He's more than willing to go it alone, though he wouldn't have minded Naomi's company. She has a friend to catch up with, a more personal guided tour to experience, one he'd rather not third wheel.

New here?

The wariness is muddled with a general sense of fatigue, it stands out a little less sharply than it normally might. The fact that he's keenly scoping Lance out is (hopefully, he thinks) somewhat subtle. There's still some faint, dry humor in his voice — self deprecating, maybe. )

Is it that obvious?

( It's plenty clear enough; hard to imagine that anybody would recognize the subtle tells and general air of being lost unless they're particularly familiar with it. )

[It's subtle, but not subtle enough for Lance not to be aware of it; he doesn't really mind, though, because new arrivals have it even worse than everyone else does in trying to figure out the situation they're dealing with. Appraising a total stranger who stopped them on the street with a suspicious question is only fair.

At Will's question, Lance makes a vague gesture at his own hair--the heat has made parts of the curls more noticeable and other parts fall flat, because that's just how hair is--as he answers.]

Not super obvious, but that combined with Red Wings is enough for an educated guess.

[Also the fact that Lance doesn't see any hint of recognition in Will's expression, when pretty much everyone now knows Lance's face after the Aerie. But he won't mention that just yet.]

Did you just get out?

[Another vague question so that that if for some reason there is some mistake it won't be a problem, though he doesn't think that's much of a risk at this point.]

( The unfortunately short crop on the majority of the safehouse occupants - new or seemingly established - is definitely a trend he picked up on. He knows why, and he's kind of taken to measuring longevity by hair length. Lance has at least an inch and a half on him, maybe more considering the curl. The Aerie recognition on the other hand, that hasn't even remotely occurred to him. Too detached from it in the way people are generally detached from history.

He puffs out a breath gently, settles his hands on his hips, casts an absent backward glance at Red Wings not too far behind them in the rear view mirror. )

Yeah, a little while ago. Half the people flocked this way almost immediately after the doors opened. Seems like it's practically an ingrained culture with most of the people here.

( Lumping Lance into that category as well, considering the occam's razor idea that he's headed there himself. Better to keep a carefully neutral sounding opinion on the place to anyone that happens to be part of said flock. )

[Lance follows his gaze briefly back toward Red Wings before returning his attention Will, watching his reaction. The answer's no real surprise of course, just confirmation of what he expected, and so he can ask--]

So are you one of the particular new arrivals I led astray on the network?

[He says it lightly, with a clear tone of 'led astray' being a ridiculous way to put it; none of the new arrivals that replied to him had disagreed, after all, and while some could've but just not responded, he doubt he has to worry too much about that possibility. It's more about identifying himself than anything else, in case this person did indeed witness that mess and might be hesitant about his fellow Displaced so far.]

( He hadn't even bothered to try and pin a name to him; the number of displaced he hasn't come close to interacting with ( be it network or in person ) staggeringly outweighs the number he's met. It wouldn't be worth the time to even hazard a guess. Turns out he doesn't need to — the question makes it immediately and abundantly clear.

Frankly, he's a little gratified to feel the airy tinge of bitterness that faintly curtains it. )

I'm afraid so. It wouldn't have even occurred to me to be upset about the situation if you didn't run such an aggressive propaganda campaign the first and only time we spoke to each other. It's impressive marketing.

( Which he recognizes isn't an outright return of the favor, an actual introduction would've been the more polite thing to do. He figures it narrows down the list significantly to a pretty small list of candidates; he's a little curious about the guess. )

[The response earns an amused flicker of a grin, and the response is easy--]

Thanks, I'm extremely talented in making people think and do whatever I want, which is why I get yelled at so often.

[So ridiculous. To be fair, he can manipulate people into doing what he wants--for the most part, anyway--but this hadn't been an example of it.

As for who he's talking to, he doesn't usually guess, but he will this time just because he'd briefly distracted himself from all the everything else going on by analyzing the language used to identify which of the various anonymous individuals on the posts had which conversations. So he feels relatively confident when he ventures a guess.]

Will, is it?

( He's pretty well versed in the art of slipping a small kernel of truth in an otherwise absurd offhand comment. It's not a particularly concerning notion, if he's right. Everybody's capable of manipulating other people to some extent, some people are just better at it than others.

He also gets the passing impression maybe Lance could find himself being particularly effective while getting yelled at far less if he set his mind to it. The conclusion is there based on evidence that certainly exists hidden in text across a dozen posts, but he doesn't feel the need to seek out specific examples, or to consider them with any real depth. To say he's learned to trust his instinct on things like this is... a hilarious understatement.

Frankly, and although it's taboo to admit, he's less concerned about people who are manipulative and more concerned about the outcomes they achieve with it. if his assessment is correct, it's far more indicative of who Lance is as a person that he could and chooses not to. )

Small world.

( Affirmed pleasantly, a little amused. Nice to see a familiar... disembodied text personality. He'd add on what are the odds, but frankly they're actually pretty high considering the business they're standing beside.

Which brings him to his next question, a little more visibly confused; )

Are you a regular?

( Of the bar, he means. It doesn't track with what he'd have assumed about him, but he couldn't imagine where else Lance could be headed if not there. )

[It's always interesting to Lance when he can practically feel someone thinking while he's talking to them. It isn't incredibly rare or anything, especially back at home with his friends, but it's not exactly the norm here. So many people in this place--and in Hadriel, and at home too--seem to have very little going on in their heads, or at the very least don't bother to think anything over before they say or do something.

So it stands out, and it's interesting, and he notes that. But for now he'll just focus on the question, shaking his head a little.]

Not exactly.

[And especially not lately.]

It's a gathering place for us, and it serves as a centralized location for helping out during a crisis, so I was referring somewhere there to take a moment; they were feeling a little overwhelmed with... Everything.

[And so Lance had talked to them for a bit, because that seemed to be what they needed most, but then they'd just wanted somewhere to be around people for awhile. Red Wings was an easy place Lance knew would be safe to send them.]

( Dramatic anime music plays as the camera pans to their unmoving faces while they go on long tangential narratives about each other back and forth for the next several minutes and the animation budget real cheap.

Altruism makes far more sense to Will, and that's probably pretty apparent in his features. It's a consistent enough theme that Will's picture of him starts to flesh out in watercolor over top of the roughly sketched outline.

Then again, he's been incredibly fooled by this act fairly recently. All things now come with a slightly thicker layer of scrutiny by default.

It's on the tip of his tongue to say something to the effect of his extra-curricular activities being at complete odds with the perception of him publicly, but that's a lot right out of the gate. Shockingly, people don't tend to like when you start pointing things out about them after having spoken to them once.

Keep it light, don't go chasing rabbits down any holes. )

Think you could recommend anywhere else to eat?

( A shrug, a scrunch to his mouth, a nonchalant affect deliberately donned. Passable enough to sell, but with the distinct air of being in on an inside joke if you can tell it's fake. Not hard to guess why that might be. )

If somebody's looking for a little variety.

Edited 2021-01-30 07:25 (UTC)

[True visual art going on rn.

Lance is doing a little less analyzing than Will is at the moment though, both due to general exhaustion and to some level of being distracted; he shifts slightly on his feet, which prompts one of his shoes to light up, though he ignores that in favor of casting a brief glance at their surroundings. It's a relatively well-traveled road so it's not as though movement or sound are unexpected, but he's paying attention for anything that might be unusual.

But he turned his attention back to Will as he speaks, and if there's one thing above all other that Lance is good at no matter how drained he is, it's facial expressions. So the purposefully affected expression and gesture are seen for what they are, though that in itself isn't terribly noteworthy and he won't call it out.]

Depends if you want to sit down somewhere, or just grab food.

[Since a lot of the food trucks here are pretty great. But since the question is clearly just about going somewhere other than Red Wings, rather than to somewhere in specific--]

Either way, yeah, I have some suggestions.

( He cannot put into actual words just exactly what he feels when he sees Lance's sneakers light up. It's such an absurd detail, such a telling kind of piece to his puzzle so unexpected he almost chokes — laughter driven, mainly.

That's what does it. Strangely enough, that's what cements his opinion for the time being.

Sit down or grab. They're both unappealing options for different reasons; the former because he's a little more high strung considering... everything. Committing to settling in place is going to take a little mental effort. The latter because it evokes an image of toting something back to the safe house, and he's frustrated enough already that he's forced to sleep there ( the alternative being a hunt for a homeless shelter, given the state of the city... He can't imagine the general state of emotions would be any better ). He'd like to keep his time in there to an absolute minimum. )

Somewhere... out.

( Not an answer to his either or. Considering he's veering off the forked trail, it's probably not nearly specific enough, but the interpretation Lance decides on doesn't matter. Outside of the safe house, outside of a restaurant, outside of the sphere of influence around the displaced, maybe just outside in general. Any of the above in conjunction with the first. )

[The answer is definitely vague, but a vague answer to a simple question says a lot in itself. In this case, it says the place--and getting food in general--isn't really the point; going somewhere is the point, and that's easy enough to accomplish.]

If you're up for a walk despite the heat, there's a little place a few miles from here.

[So not too far on foot, but off in another direction and somewhere Will probably hasn't been in yet. And if it turns out he does want to eat, the little diner is usually quiet and sedate, with a variety of options.]

( Astute assessment, Dr. Sweets, and entirely accurate. It's an appealing enough prospect that the heat isn't remotely a factor, and he's met with an immediate nod and that universal lead the way hand gesture. )

I'm from Louisiana originally. It's my ethical duty to brag about swamp endurance.

( AKA suffering through humidity 3/4ths of the year and becoming far too familiar with the sensation of your clothes sticking to your skin. )

Ugh. I spent like a week in Florida for a case, and it was awful.

[Not his favorite. But he starts to lead the way at a casual pace, both so they don't overheat and so that he he isn't pressuring Will to have to keep up, but also because the walk is most of the point. No need to rush.]

So, how are you doing with all of this? The whole thing is kind of a lot to get used to.

[This is a question he often asks new arrivals, but it's both a good talking point and a good way to gauge how newbies are doing.]

( Florida earns an appropriately soft, breathy chuckle. As it so happens being glad one isn't from Florida is a staple of Louisiana culture. Then again, that might actually be a country-wide feeling.

How is he doing with all of this?

Terrible, but he handles terrible better than most people. )

In terms of fantastical delusions accompanying a mental break, this isn't the worst I've had.

( Absurdly light-toned and conversational, his gallows humor. You have to be able to laugh at the truth after you've seen the things he has. )

On the off-chance I haven't lost my mind, I'd say the compartmentalizing has helped tremendously.

( A little spicy wry self-mockery for flavor. )

I take it this is your preferred coping mechanism?

( Shifting focus to other people, he means. It's a rude call-out, probably offensive to some, but he doesn't really mean it to be. He's just being frank. )

Edited 2021-02-07 07:03 (UTC)

[Lance would normally give a very concerned Look at a statement like the first one despite his own appreciation for gallows humor, but then again he spent the first month in Hadriel--what little he can remember of it anyway--sure he was hallucinating, so it's not like he can judge.

Instead he'll just keep his concern internal for now, offering a small shrug and a dip of his head in an 'as you do' gesture at the idea of compartmentalizing. But then hey, no one gave the go-ahead for calling him out like this, even if he's been aware of that potential danger considering their similarity in jobs.

So instead, lightly--]

No, my preferred coping mechanism is alcohol, but it's too hot out for that.

[He's sure Will will see that it's a deflection, but that's fine.]

It definitely takes awhile for all of this to sink in. Compartmentalizing does help, but I'm sure you know better than to let that turn into repressing the issue entirely.

[Which doesn't mean anything in terms of not actually doing it, as Lance knows very well, but still.]

( He doesn't take any particular affront to the commentary on what he ought to do — being surrounded by psychologists and psychiatrists is a product of his field. It's practically impossible to go a day around Alana or Hannibal without remarking on one another's mental state and the handling recommendations thereof.

Rather.

Used to be impossible. Even if he weren't in the future (or in the middle of a psychotic break) those days would be long past.

At least Lance isn't particularly smug or obnoxious about it. )

I do know better.

( Confirmed in a manner both amused and noncommittal, the obvious implication being — just because he knows better... )

While we're both being particularly aware of what is and isn't healthy coping... You know, putting rum in a snow cone is essentially a daquiri.

[Lance rolls his eyes at that response, but the lightly amused expression that goes with it is a clear indicator it's more of a knowing gesture than an annoyed one. He knows that implication very well.

But as for the last comment--]

For some reason, that's never actually occurred to me. Thanks for the enabling.

[Ruining his one fake excuse not to drink.]

I'm not sure how much ice we'll be able to make with the water rationing going on, though.

That's certainly an incentive for sobriety.

( Sighed out empathetically, gaze veering out toward the clashing scenery. Vegetation and lifelessness all smashed together and warring over who has the right to exist.

Cutely exchanging witty rejoinders isn't the entirety of what he hopes to get from this. He switches tracks back to something more serious. )

What do you do here? For work, I mean. Rejoin... whatever makes up the future equivalent of the FBI?

( He's gauging career opportunities. He desperately needs to be able to afford a place outside of the safehouse, even if it's temporary. )

I get into fights on the network. It's a full time job.

[He's less interested in leaving the witty banter behind, though he does at least answer the question after he's made that remark.]

No, I stayed away from law enforcement here, especially since I wasn't too excited about the idea of being like, a beat cop and working my way up. But some of my friends work at one of the nice casinos, so I would go there and play poker against people who didn't know any better.

[Of course he doesn't expect that to be so easy after the Aerie, so he'll probably have to find a real job soon. But that might be a viable option for Will; even high-rolling poker players usually aren't ready to face off with a profiler.]

( A small puff of breath and the flicker of a raised eyebrow over Lance's full-time network job; a laugh but also an acknowledgment that it doesn't seem unfeasible given the sheer quantity of it he's noticed in his network stalking.

It's swiftly waylaid by the obvious surprise that takes over. Medium stakes poker as a means of income, for a profiler. )

That's... genius, actually.

( Something he'd never have thought of but that makes so much sense he wonders a little in hindsight why he's never done it.

( and a subtle mark toward confirming his theory that Lance could be manipulative if he wanted to be. )

Probably won't do it for a consistent source of income, it means an awful lot of people-ing, but as a concept? In a pinch? …To quickly get enough for a first and last month's rent plus security deposit? )

We'd have to sit at different tables.

( Wryly, and with... maybe just a little touch of underlying curiosity on who'd win. Professional competitiveness. Better to keep his secret interest in mind games to himself, it has a connotation that probably seems nefarious. )

[He gives a faintly amused smile at both the response and the show of surprise, and is always pleased to get a compliment. But as for sitting at different tables--]

You'll have the run of the casino mostly to yourself awhile, I think. I'm not sure how much you saw about what happened just before you arrived, with the Aerie, but I don't think I'm going to blend in as much as I used to.

[Not that he lost any skill or anything, but being more well known is going to be an issue and he hasn't really been up for seeing exactly how well it'll work just yet.]

Hey Will. I hope adjusting to being here has gone well so far, even though that might not be saying much.

[And the genuinely meant but still definitely small talk out of the way--]

Would you have any time to meet up in the next day or two? I'll cover some drinks.

[He'd suggest food, but alcohol seems like the better choice especially if they get onto the topic of the dream's contents.]

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