"Yeah, they didn't want us to starve right off, you know. When'd you last eat?" She gestures for him to stand, rolling off toward the storage cupboards in the kitchen proper. The doors leading in to the kitchens are propped open, for easier and and out access. Plates and bowls and cups are in evidence on countertops, and at the far end, a bowl of apples.
"Yesterday." She doesn't need to gesture twice, he follows willingly. And pockets an apple before he even sees what else is on offer, because there's someone he needs to bring a little back for.
She nods, though she also frowns. "Where were you?" is her next question, looking at all of him. "I didn't see you with the last group brought up... when did you get here?"
"I wasn't." He mumbles that part quietly, sure there will be questions to follow. Which is fine, but if they're getting serious now...
"Uh, look. I just came to make sure-uh. The thing is, when you got sick that day, I...saw. Okay? I saw. And then that weird kid got attacked and I thought you might need...I don't know. Something. "
"Yeah. Downstairs in the mausoleum." That part definitely comes out a little bitter. He snags another apple and takes a bite, chewing that while he chews over what to say to her about the rest.
"I don't think you're hurting anyone. No one ever complained about it when it was just you, and that kid said the one that went after him was a male. Just, maybe you know something?"
The second apple makes her curious, though confusion reigns supreme. "Stanley, what are you talking about?" She knows she's not hurting anyone, and is it that he's seen her morph? Where does that tie in to -- wait.
Kid freaking out on network. The one that went after him was male.
He glances around a little nervously, then schools his expression into something more casual again. "No. No way."
Yes, his eyes contradict. He fixes Collette with a steady gaze. He knows, fluffy. It's fine, he's not gonna narc. But you want to help keep things safer for everyone around here, right? Backlash could be a bitch if people found out.
She smiles, starting to relax. "I knew you were a good guy," she says. "For all you were avoiding me, you had to be, to take in someone you barely knew and make sure they weren't left on the street."
It's not a direct statement, not yet. "I'm not a werewolf, though. I'm human -- with a complicated history with allien technology. I'm happy to tell you about it, if you want. Did you want any of the cheese? We have a round or three in the cupboards!"
There's a flinch, at that. He sighs. "Yeah, sorry about that. It wasn't supposed to...anyway, sorry. But yeah. I think we should talk about it. And cheese sounds great. It's been a while."
"Steph overreacts," she says dryly. "I love her, but she's not the best at looking at the whole picture." Jumping to conclusions, acting fast, those are things she is good at. Most the time it had to help, with her life. Here it didn't help as much among the Transports.
"Mmkay! The cheese is this way... you'll want a knife from that drawer, by your hip." She moved further down to an inset fridge, opening thee door and reaching inside for the smaller three-quarters present wheel. "I was in a war before this one, you know," she says conversationally. "Here you go!"
"Maybe." Or maybe it was just stupid. But he hasn't known a better solution at the time. He still didn't. If the same situation came up its probably happen all over, because how do you alert people's friends without alerting their enemies as well?
But he shrugs that off quickly, and gets the knife as directed. They're not here to talk about him, anyway. He accepts the cheese from her, and casually continues the conversation. "An alien war?"
"Yeah. One race, called Yeerks, were using people as... well, they mind control people by wrapping around the brain and keeping them prisoner in their own head. They know everything you think, see all your memories, and think people are a pretty good species to use as a ride. We can see colors and taste things -- Yeerks can't. They're like fat, overgrown slugs."
She doesn't sound too pleased as she gives him the short explanation. "The Yeerks have enslaved a few species before, and Earth was next on their list. Another alien species, called the Andalites, didn't really want that to happen -- for power struggle reasons."
She shrugs. It'd be nice to say there was altruism there, but she knows there wasn't.
He gags a little at the part about brain slugs. Gross, Collette. But it doesn't bother him enough to stop him from polishing off the apple and advancing on the cheese. Food tastes so absurdly good at the moment, that it's difficult to remember that this conversation thing is important, too. He swallows, glances around for some water or bread or whatever, grabs another apple instead and finally addresses the topic at hand after a few bites of that.
"So the Andel...ites, they turned you into a wolf?"
She shakes her head. "No. Did you want water? There's a faucet in that sink, and glasses are right next to it." She's started storing some dishes in the cupboards at her level, though she doesn't direct him toward those.
"They gave a handful of kids an ability called morphing -- it's based on their technology. It lets you turn into any animal you acquire. Like a wolf," she clarifies, though she herself has no wolf morph.
"Holy shit," Stan gasps out, halfway through chugging his second glass of water already. He stops long enough to stare at Collette for a second. That's intense. And seriously dangerous. And completely cool. A little poking around and he finds some painful dry soda bread and some wilted, slightly off carrots. But he doesn't really mind, he just bites into one of those too. It's a little gross, but it still makes his eyes roll up in his head. Mmm, food. God has he missed food.
"That's fucking Sci-Fi. Is it just mammals or-" A few carrots down, he swallows and reaches for the soda bread. "Snakes too?"
The bread is too much too fast, and he has to stop for a minute and hold completely still to avoid a surprise evacuation, but it's worth it to feel something solid in his stomach again. He doesn't even mind, just puts a protective hand over his stomach and hops up onto the table as if it's a bench. He doesn't quite get a smile going when Collette lets him in on the joke, but something crosses his eyes anyway. Understanding, maybe. They're still a bit too dull to be sure.
"I hear the cretaceous was absolutely wild," she says mildly enough. Her smile is quick after the fact, and she shakes her head. "But that's just the basic idea, that's what I did. I'm not happy with the mind control stuff that's been happening lately. It's -- super gross."
Super gross is an understatement.
"Where were you if you weren't planning on coming up here, Stan? And you really don't have to tuck away extra food, there's enough for everyone for the moment."
"What mind control stuff?" That's news to him. And not good news, either. How is it possible for things to just keep getting worse? But he shakes this fresh dismay away, and tries to focus his attentions enough to answer the questions, which seem rapid fire after so much time spent in the company of quiet, furtive people.
"I was...trying to help. But it didn't work. And the food," he pockets some bread and cheese too, at the reminder, "isn't for me."
"If it's not for you, then who is it for?" It's simple undisguised curiosity, nothing dreadful or weighted or suspicious.
Though for his other question, her face slides more toward neutrality. "Drugs. The United Earth citizens are all addicted to a drug they believe helps keep them healthy. Which I guess it does -- people don't live through withdrawal so well."
"What? A mind control drug? That's..." Give him a second to process that information, Collette. It's completely insane, and as far as he knew, impossible. He doesn't even need to make the effort to dodge that question about the food, because he's already forgotten that she asked. He's too busy trying to scrape together his understanding of the world -though maybe he'd better stop thinking in global terms now that they've gone extraterrestrial...
No, that isn't helping. Stand by for reboot. He's going to need to take a minute, here.
"Well, I guess it makes them more open to suggestion. The addiction's bad," she says, more soft as she watches Stan fail to process. "The withdrawal's pretty killer. Basically don't shoot this stuff up unless you've got freaky healing powers, you know? There's juice in the big container over there."
"Right." Juice. Juice is a suggestion he understands. He stands, still dazed, and pours a glass. Which he tries to hand to Collette, but...loses his grip on? Misjudges the distance? He's not sure what happens, because it happens without intent. Like a time jump, or a mini blackout. Whatever happens between picking up the full glass and the puddle of juice on the floor is lost on him.
He stares unhelpfully, baffled at how it could've gotten there. Sorry, Collette. This friendly interrogation/heads up isn't going as smoothly as he'd planned.
"Towels are in that drawer," she says, indicating one by the nearest refridgerator like wall installation. He looks so confused, and she figures it must be an overload. Besides, spilled juice is just spilled juice. Limited resources or not, it isn't the sort of thing she can be mad about.
So she smiles, making a dismissive gesture with her hand. "We should probably keep the floor from getting sticky. I wonder if all these glasses are so hard to break? What can survive in space-cold, anyway?"
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
"Uh, look. I just came to make sure-uh. The thing is, when you got sick that day, I...saw. Okay? I saw. And then that weird kid got attacked and I thought you might need...I don't know. Something. "
no subject
What did he see? And who got attacked? Her confusion is evident: Collette's not sure what Stanley is talking about.
no subject
"I don't think you're hurting anyone. No one ever complained about it when it was just you, and that kid said the one that went after him was a male. Just, maybe you know something?"
no subject
Kid freaking out on network. The one that went after him was male.
"You think I'm a werewolf."
no subject
Yes, his eyes contradict. He fixes Collette with a steady gaze. He knows, fluffy. It's fine, he's not gonna narc. But you want to help keep things safer for everyone around here, right? Backlash could be a bitch if people found out.
no subject
It's not a direct statement, not yet. "I'm not a werewolf, though. I'm human -- with a complicated history with allien technology. I'm happy to tell you about it, if you want. Did you want any of the cheese? We have a round or three in the cupboards!"
no subject
no subject
"Mmkay! The cheese is this way... you'll want a knife from that drawer, by your hip." She moved further down to an inset fridge, opening thee door and reaching inside for the smaller three-quarters present wheel. "I was in a war before this one, you know," she says conversationally. "Here you go!"
no subject
But he shrugs that off quickly, and gets the knife as directed. They're not here to talk about him, anyway. He accepts the cheese from her, and casually continues the conversation. "An alien war?"
no subject
She doesn't sound too pleased as she gives him the short explanation. "The Yeerks have enslaved a few species before, and Earth was next on their list. Another alien species, called the Andalites, didn't really want that to happen -- for power struggle reasons."
She shrugs. It'd be nice to say there was altruism there, but she knows there wasn't.
no subject
"So the Andel...ites, they turned you into a wolf?"
no subject
"They gave a handful of kids an ability called morphing -- it's based on their technology. It lets you turn into any animal you acquire. Like a wolf," she clarifies, though she herself has no wolf morph.
no subject
"That's fucking Sci-Fi. Is it just mammals or-" A few carrots down, he swallows and reaches for the soda bread. "Snakes too?"
no subject
"My battle morph's a crocodile," she says with a grin.
no subject
"Thought I saw one there, you know? Maybe I did."
no subject
Super gross is an understatement.
"Where were you if you weren't planning on coming up here, Stan? And you really don't have to tuck away extra food, there's enough for everyone for the moment."
no subject
"I was...trying to help. But it didn't work. And the food," he pockets some bread and cheese too, at the reminder, "isn't for me."
no subject
Though for his other question, her face slides more toward neutrality. "Drugs. The United Earth citizens are all addicted to a drug they believe helps keep them healthy. Which I guess it does -- people don't live through withdrawal so well."
no subject
No, that isn't helping. Stand by for reboot. He's going to need to take a minute, here.
no subject
She gestures down the counter.
no subject
He stares unhelpfully, baffled at how it could've gotten there. Sorry, Collette. This friendly interrogation/heads up isn't going as smoothly as he'd planned.
no subject
So she smiles, making a dismissive gesture with her hand. "We should probably keep the floor from getting sticky. I wonder if all these glasses are so hard to break? What can survive in space-cold, anyway?"
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)