Anya Lehnsherr | Earth 97400 (
fridgetothefire) wrote2014-08-27 11:27 pm
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051 ☣ the Victorious Return
[Public, Video, forward-dated slightly to after the flood]
[Anya's hair is braided, a bit awkwardly given that she was unable to hold her own head up at the time, and a bit mussed, although she's changed into an unwrinkled shirt.]
It seems like there haven't been any major disasters while I was unconscious.
Were the comms all broken? Did I miss the signs or something?
[She sounds bemused, half-joking, half not at all. Seriously, is the admiral punking her, did the boat actually not crash.]
[General friends filter; if you think you're on it, etc.]
I'll need to catch up on the minor disasters, though. Let me know how you're doing, all of you.
[Private to Morgana]
You want to come over for tea? It looks like maybe you've got a lot on your mind.
[Which is Anya-speak for yes, I reviewed all your public glitch conversations. There's something even warmer than usual in her voice, in her eyes, approval, as well as affection. She said she had hope. She's come so far.]
[Private to Harvey]
How'd you like Death Knighthood?
[Private to Dean]
Still think it's some new hell?
[Mild, faded-soft but not weary any more. There's no challenge in it at all. It's a checking-in, pretending to be casual rather than perennially concerned, but it's not pretending that it's not pretending. The answer she expects is yes, in some fashion or another, as though Dean's bleakness is one of those comforting constants she can rely upon no matter how long she was out, a well-worn groove, like asking if the Arthas still wears skulls.]
[Private to Stephen]
Thank you.
[Private to Stiles]
So you and Dean.
[Spam for Connor]
[She found his post right after his and Cass's pairing, and she takes him at his word, knocking at his door with a foil-covered tray of meringues as - not a peace offering, but a gesture of good faith.]
[Private to Cass]
[In her window seat, with her guitar in her lap]
I was wondering if you wanted to learn some more chords.
[Spam for Ben]
[She wakes up with the sort of drowsiness that makes her think of broken fevers, of exhaustion bled away, a lingering quietude and a faint surprise at her own awareness, small but clear like a mountain spring. She feels warm and safe but odd, wonders why she's laid out on her back when she usually wakes curled on one side. She blinks her eyes open, sees Ben there.]
Did I...did something happen?
[She's not tolling, she doesn't feel hurt or drugged or even hungover. But she also doesn't know why he's keeping vigil, or what time it is, and usually she wakes sharp and early.]
[Anya's hair is braided, a bit awkwardly given that she was unable to hold her own head up at the time, and a bit mussed, although she's changed into an unwrinkled shirt.]
It seems like there haven't been any major disasters while I was unconscious.
Were the comms all broken? Did I miss the signs or something?
[She sounds bemused, half-joking, half not at all. Seriously, is the admiral punking her, did the boat actually not crash.]
[General friends filter; if you think you're on it, etc.]
I'll need to catch up on the minor disasters, though. Let me know how you're doing, all of you.
[Private to Morgana]
You want to come over for tea? It looks like maybe you've got a lot on your mind.
[Which is Anya-speak for yes, I reviewed all your public glitch conversations. There's something even warmer than usual in her voice, in her eyes, approval, as well as affection. She said she had hope. She's come so far.]
[Private to Harvey]
How'd you like Death Knighthood?
[Private to Dean]
Still think it's some new hell?
[Mild, faded-soft but not weary any more. There's no challenge in it at all. It's a checking-in, pretending to be casual rather than perennially concerned, but it's not pretending that it's not pretending. The answer she expects is yes, in some fashion or another, as though Dean's bleakness is one of those comforting constants she can rely upon no matter how long she was out, a well-worn groove, like asking if the Arthas still wears skulls.]
[Private to Stephen]
Thank you.
[Private to Stiles]
So you and Dean.
[Spam for Connor]
[She found his post right after his and Cass's pairing, and she takes him at his word, knocking at his door with a foil-covered tray of meringues as - not a peace offering, but a gesture of good faith.]
[Private to Cass]
[In her window seat, with her guitar in her lap]
I was wondering if you wanted to learn some more chords.
[Spam for Ben]
[She wakes up with the sort of drowsiness that makes her think of broken fevers, of exhaustion bled away, a lingering quietude and a faint surprise at her own awareness, small but clear like a mountain spring. She feels warm and safe but odd, wonders why she's laid out on her back when she usually wakes curled on one side. She blinks her eyes open, sees Ben there.]
Did I...did something happen?
[She's not tolling, she doesn't feel hurt or drugged or even hungover. But she also doesn't know why he's keeping vigil, or what time it is, and usually she wakes sharp and early.]
Private
He nods at her comment about Dean. He isn't entirely sure how close she is with this version of Dean, but he knows that she and the other Dean had been close. He still wishes he'd gotten to know him better. But the timing was just off.]
Yeah.
Private
How'd he take it?
[This is not a shovel talk. Part of her wants it to be, viciously, but to the extent Anya believes in anything, she does believe in the Admiral, in the system. And that means she has to trust this pairing, Stiles in his capacity as warden, or at least give him a chance. As much of a chance as she wishes Dean were capable of giving him. And there are some things she will not permit herself to ask, would think less of Stiles as a warden if he betrayed confidences to her, but this - reactions, general welfare, aren't among them.]
Private
[He tries to smile but doesn't quite manage it, letting out a breath. He doesn't think she'll ask. Even if she would, he wouldn't hand out information. He'd told Dean that from the start and he meant it.]
Private
Were you close to the other one?
[She doesn't think so, but - Dean knew a lot of people. She might not have known.]
Private
I'm all in here, Anya. You don't have to worry about that. [His voice is quiet, sincere. It's weird how sincere he's been since everything happened back home. Sincerity has always been Scott's thing, but maybe his best friend has rubbed off on him. Or maybe he's just growing up.]
Private
I'm not - well, I am worried. I'm going to keep on worrying about him. But I wasn't worried about that. Specifically.
[It's a little odd to realize this is true; she's seen Stiles in bits and pieces, got drunk with him once, doesn't really know him. But she didn't, doesn't, doubt his commitment.]
I just. I want to be in the loop. The how's-it-going loop and the...backup loop. Not in a way like preempting you, but I'm going to be part of his life here and I want that to - work, with whatever you're doing. And wardening is a hell of a lot of guesswork even with files, so sometimes it's good to share thoughts.
Nothing that would break confidence, obviously. But I know a little more than most people. The old Dean, he was my inmate on the mirror barge. He'd been to Hell too, thought he got out of it sooner, I think. That's what he came to the mirror barge to escape.
[Quiet, steady, not quite meeting his eyes now. She'd been very, very good at her job on the mirror barge.]
Anyway. I'm here to help.
Private
Yeah, absolutely. [There's no hesitation here at all. He wants Dean to have other people in his life on this ship who care about him. Wants him to have friends even if right now Dean doesn't want that for himself.]
I have a feeling we're gonna end up spending a lot more time together. [He smiles a bit lopsidedly and shrugs.]
Private
[Maybe pretty good with that, actually.]
You get too many other meddlers sticking their oar in so far?
Private
Surprisingly no. You're the first. [His voice is just light enough so she'll know he's teasing her.]
Private
[She shakes her head. After all the explosions when he arrived - she doesn't think they've lost interest or anything so cold, but she thinks more people have adjusted to accepting what a different person this Dean is, have adjusted to giving him a little more space no matter how determined they are to befriend him in spite of himself in the long run. Anya does not love this Dean in spite of himself; he echoes cracks in her heart that the previous one never did.]
A testament to everyone's confidence, no doubt.
[She's not even sure how sarcastic she's being.]
Private
Yeah, I'm sure that's it. [His voice is wry.]
Private
I've been - pleasantly surprised by a lot of pairings. The admiral's a crazy bastard in a lot of ways, but he's got a sense for what people need from each other sometimes.
You've got your work cut out for you, and you know it. But if I had to bet, I'd bet you can help him.
Private
Thanks, Anya.
Oh. And you missed movie night while you were coma'd. You'll have to come to the next one.
Private
Which movie? For both nights.
Private
Private
Private
It's a fashion line. Designer kind of stuff. Expensive, and depending on who you ask, absolutely vital to one's social life.
Private
[This is mostly a joke.]
Private
Any movies you want to toss in a vote for?
Private
Private
...oh. [A beat.] Have you seen Star Wars while you've been here?
Private
Private
Private
I was a bit spoiled for it, since I know German. But they were fun.
Private