Re-l Mayer (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
brightblueeyeshadow) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
caveofsapphires2012-04-21 12:06 am
brightblueeyeshadow) wrote in caveofsapphires2012-04-21 12:06 am
(no subject)
WHO: Re-l Mayer (Masako Hart), open
WHAT: Sorting herself out
WHERE: Supply Depot
WHEN: April 21st
WARNINGS: None for now
Re-l - no, Masa, she must learn to think of herself by her new name - stretches her arms out stiffly. She's tired from carrying boxes, and certain now that her reflexes aren't quite as good at they used to be. It irritates her, but she pushes the concern aside. She has more on her mind than just her body.
She looks at the crates piled around her, reading the labels slowly. Oranges, apples, broccoli, some soy derivative that stands in for meat: the contents match their descriptions exactly, a fact Re-l finds oddly frustrating. She wants something not to fit more than she is willing to admit. She frowns, and unpleasant lines settle between her eyes.
This fretting is useless. Silence and patience were skills she honed in Romdeau, and she is determined to use them to their full advantage here. She will buy their lies, she will be Masa Hart, she will swear it was all a dream, and she will find the truth.
The shopfront for the Supply Depot is small and cramped, with low windows that let in a dull and grainy light. It offers no views to the outside world, but Re-l can feel the presence of the warehouses behind her like a cold shadow. They are forbidden, and that excites her curiosity. She considers trying to sneak off now, but she is supposed to be working, and who knows what kind of surveillance there is in this place.
Besides, she may glean something from the customers, if any ever arrive. Re-l tucks herself in behind the desk and folds her arms on the cold wood, letting her thoughts drift away from her. She wishes she had a diary, or a voice recorder of some kind, but her hands are empty. She is reduced to watching the dust motes dance, and to hoping for a distration, no matter how irritating.
WHAT: Sorting herself out
WHERE: Supply Depot
WHEN: April 21st
WARNINGS: None for now
Re-l - no, Masa, she must learn to think of herself by her new name - stretches her arms out stiffly. She's tired from carrying boxes, and certain now that her reflexes aren't quite as good at they used to be. It irritates her, but she pushes the concern aside. She has more on her mind than just her body.
She looks at the crates piled around her, reading the labels slowly. Oranges, apples, broccoli, some soy derivative that stands in for meat: the contents match their descriptions exactly, a fact Re-l finds oddly frustrating. She wants something not to fit more than she is willing to admit. She frowns, and unpleasant lines settle between her eyes.
This fretting is useless. Silence and patience were skills she honed in Romdeau, and she is determined to use them to their full advantage here. She will buy their lies, she will be Masa Hart, she will swear it was all a dream, and she will find the truth.
The shopfront for the Supply Depot is small and cramped, with low windows that let in a dull and grainy light. It offers no views to the outside world, but Re-l can feel the presence of the warehouses behind her like a cold shadow. They are forbidden, and that excites her curiosity. She considers trying to sneak off now, but she is supposed to be working, and who knows what kind of surveillance there is in this place.
Besides, she may glean something from the customers, if any ever arrive. Re-l tucks herself in behind the desk and folds her arms on the cold wood, letting her thoughts drift away from her. She wishes she had a diary, or a voice recorder of some kind, but her hands are empty. She is reduced to watching the dust motes dance, and to hoping for a distration, no matter how irritating.
no subject
She drums her fingers on the table, and then a thought occurs to her. She takes out a pen and a very old, very battered leather journal from a pocket and tears out a page.
"That's my address. If you find anything, let me know. And I'll do the same. I assume I can find you in the library?"
She straightens up and looks him in the eye.
"It was nice to meet you too, Doctor."
It's an odd name, but perhaps no odder than hers. And certainly worth an ally.
no subject
"Tell me, my dear. Have you come across anyone you recognize? From your dream, I mean." It's a long shot, but worth asking. "I know you haven't been awake long, but everyone has to come to the depot sooner or later, hmm?"
no subject
"No one at all," she says. "But I've met almost no one. The boss kept me in the back for my first few days."
She shrugs, not adding that this is also because she has trouble talking to people.
no subject
Taking up the bag of goods, the Doctor gives her a slight bow. She isn't saying much, and it's unlikly he'll get much more out of her. Especially since she hasn't been awake very long. "I should get back to my studies, hmm? If you need anything, don't hesitate to give me a call. The phone systems should have my number."
no subject
She sits down, opens her diary and begins to write, focusing on the movement of the pen and the colour of the ink, and slowly her notes take form.