ArchivedLogs:Like Normal

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Like Normal
Dramatis Personae

B, Dusk

2014-07-21


Part of Prometheus TP

Location

<NYC> The Roost - Harbor Commons - Lower East Side


The second level of this house takes up less floor space than the ground floor, owing largely to the open sweep of balcony that overlooks half the home below. Up here the floors are in natural hardwood, polished and smooth. At one side of the balcony, again, a door leads over to the adjacent unit in the house.

One door off the balcony leads to a quiet office space, with a wide metal-and-glass desk, long sofa and armchair oppsite a large pair of bookshelves. A tall glass door in the large windows on the back wall leads out to a wide outdoor balcony overlooking the river.

The second door leads to Dusk's bedroom, dominated by greens and greys. He has finally actually gotten himself a /proper/ bed to pair with his dresser and bookshelf, king-sized and settled low to the ground onto a solid wood base with a number of drawers built into it. His desk holds the desktop -- somewhat literally. The desk /itself/, with see-through glass body and softly glowing lights inside, has been configured to /be/ the computer case. Closer inspection of a pair of small decorative aquariums sitting to either side of its three monitors finds them to /also/ be computer cases, their inner workings submerged in a pale blue liquid on a bed of aquarium pebbles alongside plastic plants and little plastic castles or fake coral. In this bedroom, too, a door leads out to the same balcony outside.

Capping off the balcony at its other end is a guest bedroom, large wood-frame bed with a small end table, dresser, a hammock-chair hanging from the ceiling in a corner, a desk by the window.

B has been very quiet, while working. The room is filled with the faint glow of hir holographic computer interface; a terminal with lines of text scrolling by here, a few gchat windows pinging over here, a diagram of one of hir dragonfly-bots overlaid over the actual /thing/ to help with analysis and fine-tuning there. At the moment, though, the window that has primacy is a browser, StackOverflow on the screen and B's gills fluttering in quick irritation. Grumble. Grumble. Ze's dressed in a denim skirt dotted with rhinestone skull-and-crossbones designs on its pockets and a black tank that , barring an opaque panel across its chest, is mostly composed of see-through mesh. Barefoot, thick clunky spiked cuffs on hir wrists. Ze is sprawled out on hir belly on Dusk's bed, shaking hir head as ze pages through answers.

"You wouldn't have that problem," Dusk is /extraordinarily/ unhelpful where he perches on the stool at his desk, "if you used C like a /normal/ fucking person." He's looking at his computer screen. On a /monitor/. Like a /normal/ person.

B growls in answer to this, sharp and annoyed. There's a hard tension coiling through hir at the talk of doing things like a /normal/ person. Ze pulls up a window, closes fingers around it and /throws/ it. At Dusk's head.

Where it, of course, just settles harmlessly beside him without any physical contact; not as satisfying as actually hitting him in the head. "You want to port it be my /guest/."

"I can barely even read your Lisp." Dusk bats the window back towards B, shaking his head and swivelling to look over at the sharkpup, elbows resting on his knees. "Or any of your robomagic, really. Here. This will help." 'This' being a bottle of Bawls that he swipes off his desk to roll forward on the wheeled stool and offer toward B. "You're looking hella frazzled."

"I'm hella frazzled," B answers sharply. "If I screw this up. I mean I don't /know/ what's going to happen if we /look/ at their systems funny it could mean a whole lot of people's /lives/." Ze does, though, take the bottle, rolling up into a sitting position to uncap it and take a gulp.

Dusk shakes his head, frowning deeply. "I'm not going to be touching anything /near/ all that. And we had Tony-fucking-Stark working on the controls for /that/ shit, this is just. The worst that happens if we fuck up is we don't get the information we want. It's not the /end/ of the world."

"You're assuming I don't screw up so badly that it /all/ just goes --" B scrunches hir eyes shut tight. "It might be the end of the world. Pa's world, anyway, how do you think he's going to take it if this all -- ends like." Hir gills flutter faster, fingers batting at a terminal window to just spin it in place. Ze lifts the bottle of Bawls to gulp at it again. "I just. Want things to go /right/ for him for --" Ze shakes hir head, sliding down to the floor to settle next to hir dragonfly and set hir bottle back down. "Let's just. Just get this done right."

"I'm --" Dusk hesitates, turning back to his screen as well. A slow frown is developing on his face, eyes flicking down towards the floor at the thought of Jax -- or maybe of /everyone/ on the team and what a catastrophe this week might mean for them. "... not assuming anything." He uncaps a bottle of Bawls for himself, now, wings just a little bit more tense at his back as he pulls his focus back in just that much more sharply. And settles in to get it done right.