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IC Voice Mail

There’s no pre-recorded message, just some fumbling sounds and then a click. Honestly, given the kind of racket she usually makes, this was one of the better outcomes.

Mun Contact

• PLURK:

crimsonxiphos

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[It takes a while for the Big Sister to even notice that someone has taken the liberty of assigning her a room. Thrown into a new environment, she had quickly reverted to her Rapture ways, roaming and resting wherever seemed safe and out of sight at the time. One night, however, curiosity and fatigue get the better of her, and she decides to investigate her would-be quarters.

For someone capable of making so much noise, the Big Sister is deceptively silent when she wants to be. She moves quietly through the deck, no doubt a terror to any who might awaken: a gaunt, unnaturally tall specter with grey skin and yellow eyes that flash like a cat’s. Fortunately for Halfway Deck’s other residents, she’s careful not to stir anyone from their sleep.

There are two surprises waiting for her when she makes it to unit 8. One, that the room is already occupied. Two, that the occupant is awake.

Books are strewn here and there, clearly by someone who didn't expect to share the space. It's not a promising sign. Still, she's not giving up so easily. She doesn’t knock to get his attention. She simply makes her next footfall louder than the last, expression already defiant.

What’s he doing in her room?]

[Though he normally might have noticed someone approaching so blatantly, his focus usually never so drawn in to any one thing, the material he’s researching proves to have enraptured him. It’s only with the pointed weight of her steps into the room that she properly catches his attention, head jerking up and eyes pinning her in an instant. There’s a momentary intensity, something dark and unknown, but it slips away as a anxious embarrassment settles onto his face.]

Oh, geeze. [It’s a room for two and there's not hardly enough capacity on the station for everyone to claim their own place. Likely this young woman is here to take the other bed. He holds her gaze and blindly starts collected the scattered tomes and documents.] I’m so sorry. I hadn’t meant—

I mean, I needed the space. Here, I mean. Instead of in the library. Didn’t want to— [He looks down when he feels one of the books slipping from his haphazardly made stack, steadying it with his one hand before carefully sliding it back into a more stable position. When he's certain the books won't fall over, he sits forward and rises to his feet.]

You taking the other bed? I’ll get all of this outta your way, don’t worry. [The easy smile that asks for nothing settles onto his face, and he steps closer, keeping a polite distance so as not to deter (apparently) his new roommate. He raises his hand slowly, in offer of a handshake should she be willing to take it.]

James. My name is James.

[She catches that look, dark and perhaps hostile, and returns it, the faintest growl rising in her throat—only to cut off when the man’s demeanor changes to that of awkward anxiety. She watches as he fumbles with the books and papers, not quite following his excuses, nor really caring for them. She just nods when he asks if she’s taking the other bed—though she’s not quite settled on if she’s sleeping there. She hadn’t expected to share a room, much less with a grown man.

She holds her ground when he steps forward, still regarding him appraisingly. The offer of a hand only gets a raised brow, a long pause, and then another nod. At least it’s not quite the outright rejection of someone who doesn’t want to shake his hand. It comes off more like the quizzical reaction of someone who isn’t familiar with shaking hands at all.

At least he gets some kind of verbal response. A few taps at the ACE on her wrist and an electronic voice responds with her own name—if you can call it that.]

Big Sister.

[The initial growl comes with some shock, though he keeps it well hidden. And even with the returned handshake, he gratefully takes the nod — it’s not a headshake, so it’s certainly not strict disapproval.

Her sudden use of the text-to-speech function is...different, to say the least. Could she be mute? Or? Withdrawing his hand, he nods back before shoving his hands in his pants pockets.]

Like a title? [He certainly understands the possibility that one might not have a proper name, that is. After a moment's pause, he tacks on,] Does just Sister work? Or?

[Because saying just the one word makes it easier to call for her. Also, despite her...outfit adding to the imposing nature of her build, “big” isn’t really a word he can bring himself to associate with her presently.]

[The first question is met with a shrug. Name, title, it doesn’t make much difference—it’s the only alias she has to go by. She takes no issue with “Sister” either. She gives her permission with a nod.

Regardless of the man’s apparent courtesy, she doesn’t quite trust him, certainly not enough to sleep in the same room as him. Pleasantries aside, her next question is purely practical:]

When do you go out of the room?

[No one could ever accuse the Big Sister of being particularly tactful.]

[Even as bluntly as her question comes, Bucky is not the least bit surprised by it either. They don’t know each other. And also she just walked in on him hogging the floor to what is obviously meant to be a shared space, so. Any wariness of being made to stay with a guy like that (and even a guy at all, probably) is far from unwarranted.

Directness isn’t strange to him either though, having been in the military himself. Sometimes it’s easier to just stick to facts and leave out the pleasantries, especially since in his own case Bucky knows much of it is quite put on for the sake of others, to keep them from finding him cold, disconnected.]

Hard to put an exact time to it, but I’m probably going to be making a habit of being away for several hours at a time. There’s a lot of work that needs to be done in the greenhouse, so I’ll be doing that a lot in the coming days.

[He assesses her again, the way she carries herself, the way she speaks. After a moment, he tacks on,] I won’t get in your way. If you ever need a moment of your own, I can step out. Whenever you need me to. It’s not a problem.