[If there's anything that can be counted on to bring cheer and smiles to anyone's face, it's the kid-tested, Mettaton approved method of complete and utter ignorance. It's bliss for a reason! So people are dying. So members of their own team are dead!! He's been living the past week inside of a school playing the distraction for everyone else. He deserves to be the one being distracted for a minute!
Which explains why he's at Vaughn's door, knocking briskly, yet politely. He didn't give the man any warning he'd be around, but...
Well, when you're in the area, you may as well, right?
[ unfortunately for mettaton, the person to answer is not his precious vanilla bean... instead it is olivia, wondering who this vanilla bean even is, and yet she opens the door without much discrimination anyway — but that's also because she can recognize mettaton's voice a mile away at this point. sure, it may have been months since she last saw him, but he's not exactly the type of person you easily forget. ]
—Oh. Hello, Mettaton...! [ she stands at the doorway in several layers of clothing (though perhaps the most notable is one of vauhgn's flannel plaids), apparently attempting to warm up, and fast. from the way her hair hangs kind of damply over her shoulders, it's clear she had just been outside in the cold not too long ago herself, and while there's plenty of heating in the apartment, it is apparently not suitable enough for her purposes at the moment.
absently, she tucks a lock of hair behind her ear, glancing about. ]
[Oh. Oh, that's not Vaughn. She's petite and wearing Vaughn's clothes, the clothes Mettaton specifically suggested he pick up, but she is most definitely not Vaughn. She's...]
Olivia!! [He's swooping in to give her a hug! No take backs!!] Darling! Vaughn told me you two were together- oh, I haven't seen you in AGES! How have you been- [Wait, how many layers is this poor thing wearing? And her hair's wet! She's practically a stick already; this weather could not be good for her.] Sweetheart, you look dreadful! [He reaches behind his back before she can get a word in, already pulling out a large, ugly sweater he'd been gifted over the holidays. Mettaton's a big man; it should be able to fit over everything else she has on.] Here, put this on.
[ it had been giovanni to let her in, what with sonia working hard and diligently in her room. olivia herself is not eager to disturb the young woman, knowing full well how important her work is, and how dire the situation has become. still, it is not in her heart to simply do nothing, and thus she has stopped by, once more, arms laden with paper bags full of ingredients, intent on taking advantage of their spacious kitchen to make large batches of stew.
she had thanked giovanni but ushered him away, insisting she did not wish to bother anyone during her stay. however, about fifteen minutes into it, she realizes she does not have a great grasp of where things are, and so perhaps makes a little too much noise looking for their larger pots... far more than necessary, and certainly quite a lot for someone with over-sensitive hearing.
especially when she accidentally drops a pot, too... oops... ]
[He's only slightly surprised to see her. The way things are now, the steady progression of Sonia's infection-- they haven't had much in the way of visitors, lately. There's a part of him that wonders whether he ought to usher her away, as much for her safety as for Sonia's concerns, but there's something insistent in Olivia's face, a subtle kind of need. Without being able to put it into words, he nonetheless thinks he understands. And besides all that, he trusts in himself to be able to keep the situation under control. Should things go awry, he can restrain his 'sibling', prevent her from doing anything that would weigh heavy on her conscience if - no, when, a small mental correction that he doesn't entirely believe - they find a resolution to their current problems.
And so he lets her in, allows himself to be shooed away from the kitchen without protest-- it's still easier on him, spending his time in self-imposed solitude, closed off in his room, quite alone. But the clatter and crash of pots from the kitchen eventually becomes enough of an irritant to draw him back out, and soon Olivia will find him standing in the doorway, one thin brow raised above the rim of his orange lenses. He keeps his face free of overt irritation, but there's a question written there in its place.]
Yes, [ she lies, in such a way that the slight strain evident in her voice is telling enough of how deep the lie is. she isn't normally so clumsy, despite what her own disparaging words would have one believe, and yet today she cannot seem to go two steps without bumping into something, or nearly dropping a utensil, or otherwise harming herself with a strangely unsteady hand. she is not infected, and has been one of the lucky few who are human who have yet to be in danger of being infected, but a shallow look at her might make it seem so — the sunken eyes, the jitters that linger in her limbs. she has not been sleeping, at least not well, and given her propensity to exert her energies using her powers on others...
she lets out a brief, quiet sigh. more a hissing between her teeth than anything else. ]
[he stands there a moment, silent and poised, hips and shoulder leaning loose against the door frame as he looks her over with a critical eye. There's something wrong, exhaustion and strain showing through the cracks in her demeanor, enough that even something like him can discern the signs of it. Almost imperceptibly, his brows pull together on the smallest of frowns.]
Are you all right?
[And the words, they seem almost foreign and strange as they roll off his tongue-- he's unaccustomed to paying attention to the wellbeing of others, rarely - if ever - notices it at all. But on this occasion, it seems he has.]
[ the riots have just begun to pick up, and now more than ever those in the police force have been working harder than ever to help maintain the peace and calm of the place. of course, she has not heard much from lucina and haise, which olivia takes to mean that the situation is worse than she thought, because she knows both well enough by now to know that they would be the last people to ever tell her if there were anything to worry about. it's silly, though she knows full well where they are coming from.
still, she knows there is at least one person in the force who would never lie to her (even if it were out of kindness), and they are long overdue for a chat anyway.
she approaches his and fate's home, cradling a little pouch with a bow on it in her hands. she knocks, then proceeds to announce herself too, just in case. ]
[ Koltira opens up, and because he's not presently on-duty, he's wearing the clothes that some of the others helpfully picked out for him towards the beginning of the mission. That is to say: a spiked collar, a Megadeth t-shirt, etc. He sees no irony in any of it. ]
Olivia.
[ He smiles, but it's tight--things aren't too bad yet, but he can see where this rollercoaster is headed, and it's right for the drop. ]
Come in.
[ He makes an ushering gesture, both because he's glad to see her and because it's dangerous to just loiter about in the open. The apartment is not large, but it's decent, and crossing the threshold takes her right into a carpeted little den with a perfectly serviceable couch. ]
[ it does give olivia pause, seeing him in such attire... but frankly the surprise comes more from the attire itself than the fact that he's wearing it. given she looks like a rainbow threw up on her 99% of the time since their arrival here, she's definitely never set foot into a hot topic before.
she is actually pleasantly charmed by the aesthetic of it.
she steps in at his urging, and brandishes the little pouch towards him. ]
Happy Housewarming!
[ or so she assumes is the appropriate greeting, anyway. ]
[ He raises an eyebrow, because there's nothing warm about their place -- well, maybe figuratively. He takes the pouch, opening it as he goes to sit down on the gray couch. ]
[ it was probably not a good idea to come here on her own, especially after finding out that fiona, too, was nowhere to be found. she should have just turned back around and waited for a better time, or called either fiona or vaughn for extra back up... just in case. she didn't have the exact timeframe of where rhys would be now in the stages of the virus, but she had a good enough idea that it wasn't anywhere good... still, the desire not to bother others was reflexive, and she was confident enough in her abilities that, should things get dicey, she would at least be able to get away if needed...
besides, she made all this stew... ]
H-Hello...? Rhys...?
[ tentatively creeps further into the large home, glancing all around her with the steaming tupperware cradled tightly between her hands. how the heck did she even get inside... ]
[ Lucky for Olivia, he shoots up with sedatives constantly, it's not weird or concerning at all. He's starting to get antsy and irritable, though, especially since he doesn't have either of his usual hug dispensers around at the moment. Hearing some rando in his house doesn't help. Actually, it makes him pretty anxious, since he's a little worried about getting killed by some psychopath and/or zombie.
He springs out from the kitchen, shock baton in one hand and baseball bat in the other (double prepared), his little drone Dumpy behind him, screeching. ] Die—
she jumps when he appears out of nowhere, a startled shout swallowed up by his own menacing threat of death. once she realizes who it is, however, the hand she'd thrown up between them suddenly balls into a fist and drops to her side. ]
Rhys, please...! That's dangerous!
[ saying this as if he were the one in actual danger around here...
(though, looking closer at her hand, one might be able to spot a small dagger there... that she is now re-strapping to the holster around a thigh. ah.) ]
I'm sorry to stop by so suddenly... I thought you might be hungry.
[ she waits at their designated meeting spot exactly seven minutes earlier than intended. she hadn't anticipated the streets to be quite so empty, though she supposes now that things are getting more and more perilous, it makes sense that most sane people would be avoiding these wide, open areas as much as possible. it's a risk, for sure, but it's one olivia is willing to take. after all, emptier streets mean emptier establishments, and while there is a small part of her that feels guilty for all this looting, the larger part of her knows that they are going to need as many supplies as they can if they want to be able to last long enough to beat this thing.
over her shoulder are a couple of woven satchels for her use, and though most of her hair is tucked beneath a large knitted cap, it's easy enough to tell who she is by the rainbow-colored fingerless gloves she has on.
and the fact she's the only one there waiting in front of an abandoned supermarket. ]
[The less people in the streets, the less there is to worry about in terms of anyone coming to stop them or give them trouble. It's a mixed blessing, but the city is far more dour then when they first arrived. Twisted Fate is aware of his own limitations, and he can't help any of their scientists with developing a cure at all.
Which leaves him to this, his natural skills to loot and find anything that might have been overlooked.
He strolls toward the meeting spot, not leaving Olivia to wait long even as she's arrived early. His hair is tied back, keeping it out of the way, but he still has his signature hat on along with a wool coat he'd ... obtained.]
Hey there, cadence. [Twisted Fate nods toward the supermarket.] Got anything in mind for what you're lookin' for?
[ and olivia, despite all her work in the lab as urahara's assistant, has no more a mind for the cure than fate himself, and so she has doubled her efforts to be helpful elsewhere, whether it be through use of her powers or something like this... acquiring more rations for the team.
just as he asks, she turns towards the market, gripping her satchels a bit more firmly. ]
Anything and everything, [ she tells him with a firm nod. the supplies she intends to give to the quarantine space, apart from offering whatever there is to fate himself. the particular market they're looking into has been victim to one of the more violent riots, its windows broken in, and many of its shelving already turned over and broken into. still, there had been a military siege of the place since then only until recently, so olivia is hopeful that there would still be things left to find. ]
Please be careful, [ she warns, just as she steps over the broken glass of the door to walk in. ]
[ it probably isn't a very good idea for maintaining their cover, but as the situation around them grows more and more dire, olivia knows she really only has a few options available to her. and given how much of a workaholic her future daughter can be, she decided it was really much more likely to happen upon lucina at the police station than in her own apartment.
of course, she could have also called first... but she also thinks she knows lucina well enough that she would have just been fed a lot of "i'm fine" and "don't worry." she loves her daughter, she truly does, but sometimes she can be far too much like her for her own good...
she perks up when the glass doors swing open, only to deflate once more upon realizing they were merely actual police officers. she has stationed herself by the doorway, looking quite like a homeless person all bundled up as she is, yet in her hands is a small pouch that she cradles close to her body... both for its warmth, and to keep it warm in turn.
[ Her shifts around the police station move from mandatory, 12-hour messes to something that's completely voluntary. The head of the police department decides he can't expect much from new recruits, even if they're here for exchange, and Lucina suddenly has a lot more time to investigate with a police uniform.
That being said, even if covers aren't quite necessary anymore, she still finds herself going whenever she can. The power of responsibility, and all that. The people here are all victims, after all, unaware of the full story — one that she doesn't have either, but they don't know that "Connor Stone" is actually an elf. So. She likes to think she's a little more in the know than they are.
She's here for a refill on her bullets ( one can never be too safe ), and to organize the last few reports that have come in ( but the citizens of Woodhurst have come to realize the PD can't actually do much ). Neither of these things take too long, and she's out of the door in a couple of hours.
Even underneath a pile of clothes, she recognizes her mother anywhere. ] Mo— Olivia? [ She stops herself in time, eyebrows furrowed as she immediately crouches down to Olivia's level. The concern's written all over her face, immediately assuming the worst — there's no blood, thankfully, but— ] What's wrong? Is everything alright?
[ olivia, in turn, seems only reinvigorated at the sight of her. she is quick to sit up a little straighter, perking up on the very energy she'd been conserving by sitting so still in the first place. ]
There you are, I knew you'd come.
[ she gets back up to her feet, seemingly unaware that she'd caused her future daughter some alarm. ]</small.
Are you all finished up inside?
[ coffees and lattes, she has not yet found the time to master. but if there's one thing olivia knows, and knows well? it's cake. cake, of course, had been quite a luxury back home, so it has become quite a treasured thing. but with her introduction to ovens, making cake has become that much easier, so while she may not be able to yet make haise's beloved coffee drink, she has, at least, been able to make a suitable coffee dessert.
it's this that she carries with her to the police station one day, unsure where else she might find the man. while there is comfort in his supposed inability (or less likelihood) of catching the virus, she knows that he, like her, would have probably only taken their good fortune and health and turned it into that much more motivation to work (and overwork) themselves.
[Officer Smith is able to point out Haise's desk, although Olivia might've spotted it herself eventually. It's the one with stacks of files and books arrayed across its surface in an impressive if not precarious display, and ensconced among all that is Haise himself. His face is buried in one such file, glasses faintly reflecting the fluorescent lights.
When Olivia approaches though, it's enough to make him pause, catching that telltale mixture of earthy and floral scents. The recognition is easy to spot, fast chased by curiosity before he glances up to find the source-]
Ah, Olivia- [Surprise lifts his eyebrows, disappearing somewhere behind the curly mess of his hair] What brings you here?
[Already, he's closing the file and setting it aside, somewhere amid the ordered chaos of his desk]
[ she smiles faintly, apologetically as she approaches, fingers curling a little tighter around the small tupperware she cradles between her hands. ]
I'm sorry, I was hoping you wouldn't be too busy, [ she says in a quiet voice, ignorant of the number of stares her presence has garnered. she certainly doesn't look like she belongs anywhere in a police station, by a detective's desk, especially one always so put together and immaculate-looking like haise. ]
I was just hoping to drop you something to... to help you along.
[ it comes off a little weakly, because she realizes now it probably won't really be much help at all. still, she sets the small tupperware down on a rare, clean spot on his desk. ]
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( mettaton )
week 4
[If there's anything that can be counted on to bring cheer and smiles to anyone's face, it's the kid-tested, Mettaton approved method of complete and utter ignorance. It's bliss for a reason! So people are dying. So members of their own team are dead!! He's been living the past week inside of a school playing the distraction for everyone else. He deserves to be the one being distracted for a minute!
Which explains why he's at Vaughn's door, knocking briskly, yet politely. He didn't give the man any warning he'd be around, but...
Well, when you're in the area, you may as well, right?
Knockknock.]
You are home, aren't you?
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—Oh. Hello, Mettaton...! [ she stands at the doorway in several layers of clothing (though perhaps the most notable is one of vauhgn's flannel plaids), apparently attempting to warm up, and fast. from the way her hair hangs kind of damply over her shoulders, it's clear she had just been outside in the cold not too long ago herself, and while there's plenty of heating in the apartment, it is apparently not suitable enough for her purposes at the moment.
absently, she tucks a lock of hair behind her ear, glancing about. ]
Did you, um... Are you lost?
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Olivia!! [He's swooping in to give her a hug! No take backs!!] Darling! Vaughn told me you two were together- oh, I haven't seen you in AGES! How have you been- [Wait, how many layers is this poor thing wearing? And her hair's wet! She's practically a stick already; this weather could not be good for her.] Sweetheart, you look dreadful! [He reaches behind his back before she can get a word in, already pulling out a large, ugly sweater he'd been gifted over the holidays. Mettaton's a big man; it should be able to fit over everything else she has on.] Here, put this on.
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( giovanni )
she had thanked giovanni but ushered him away, insisting she did not wish to bother anyone during her stay. however, about fifteen minutes into it, she realizes she does not have a great grasp of where things are, and so perhaps makes a little too much noise looking for their larger pots... far more than necessary, and certainly quite a lot for someone with over-sensitive hearing.
especially when she accidentally drops a pot, too... oops... ]
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And so he lets her in, allows himself to be shooed away from the kitchen without protest-- it's still easier on him, spending his time in self-imposed solitude, closed off in his room, quite alone. But the clatter and crash of pots from the kitchen eventually becomes enough of an irritant to draw him back out, and soon Olivia will find him standing in the doorway, one thin brow raised above the rim of his orange lenses. He keeps his face free of overt irritation, but there's a question written there in its place.]
Everything all right in here?
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she lets out a brief, quiet sigh. more a hissing between her teeth than anything else. ]
I'm sorry — it must have been slippery.
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Are you all right?
[And the words, they seem almost foreign and strange as they roll off his tongue-- he's unaccustomed to paying attention to the wellbeing of others, rarely - if ever - notices it at all. But on this occasion, it seems he has.]
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( koltira ) backdated, maybe? week two or three perhaps
still, she knows there is at least one person in the force who would never lie to her (even if it were out of kindness), and they are long overdue for a chat anyway.
she approaches his and fate's home, cradling a little pouch with a bow on it in her hands. she knocks, then proceeds to announce herself too, just in case. ]
Knock knock..?
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Olivia.
[ He smiles, but it's tight--things aren't too bad yet, but he can see where this rollercoaster is headed, and it's right for the drop. ]
Come in.
[ He makes an ushering gesture, both because he's glad to see her and because it's dangerous to just loiter about in the open. The apartment is not large, but it's decent, and crossing the threshold takes her right into a carpeted little den with a perfectly serviceable couch. ]
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she is actually pleasantly charmed by the aesthetic of it.
she steps in at his urging, and brandishes the little pouch towards him. ]
Happy Housewarming!
[ or so she assumes is the appropriate greeting, anyway. ]
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A gift?
[ What could it be? ]
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( rhys )
besides, she made all this stew... ]
H-Hello...? Rhys...?
[ tentatively creeps further into the large home, glancing all around her with the steaming tupperware cradled tightly between her hands. how the heck did she even get inside... ]
1/2
He springs out from the kitchen, shock baton in one hand and baseball bat in the other (double prepared), his little drone Dumpy behind him, screeching. ] Die—
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she jumps when he appears out of nowhere, a startled shout swallowed up by his own menacing threat of death. once she realizes who it is, however, the hand she'd thrown up between them suddenly balls into a fist and drops to her side. ]
Rhys, please...! That's dangerous!
[ saying this as if he were the one in actual danger around here...
(though, looking closer at her hand, one might be able to spot a small dagger there... that she is now re-strapping to the holster around a thigh. ah.) ]
I'm sorry to stop by so suddenly... I thought you might be hungry.
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( twisted fate )
over her shoulder are a couple of woven satchels for her use, and though most of her hair is tucked beneath a large knitted cap, it's easy enough to tell who she is by the rainbow-colored fingerless gloves she has on.
and the fact she's the only one there waiting in front of an abandoned supermarket. ]
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Which leaves him to this, his natural skills to loot and find anything that might have been overlooked.
He strolls toward the meeting spot, not leaving Olivia to wait long even as she's arrived early. His hair is tied back, keeping it out of the way, but he still has his signature hat on along with a wool coat he'd ... obtained.]
Hey there, cadence. [Twisted Fate nods toward the supermarket.] Got anything in mind for what you're lookin' for?
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just as he asks, she turns towards the market, gripping her satchels a bit more firmly. ]
Anything and everything, [ she tells him with a firm nod. the supplies she intends to give to the quarantine space, apart from offering whatever there is to fate himself. the particular market they're looking into has been victim to one of the more violent riots, its windows broken in, and many of its shelving already turned over and broken into. still, there had been a military siege of the place since then only until recently, so olivia is hopeful that there would still be things left to find. ]
Please be careful, [ she warns, just as she steps over the broken glass of the door to walk in. ]
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( lucina )
of course, she could have also called first... but she also thinks she knows lucina well enough that she would have just been fed a lot of "i'm fine" and "don't worry." she loves her daughter, she truly does, but sometimes she can be far too much like her for her own good...
she perks up when the glass doors swing open, only to deflate once more upon realizing they were merely actual police officers. she has stationed herself by the doorway, looking quite like a homeless person all bundled up as she is, yet in her hands is a small pouch that she cradles close to her body... both for its warmth, and to keep it warm in turn.
aaaaaany minute now, she's sure. ]
hi i'm late, i'm sorry
That being said, even if covers aren't quite necessary anymore, she still finds herself going whenever she can. The power of responsibility, and all that. The people here are all victims, after all, unaware of the full story — one that she doesn't have either, but they don't know that "Connor Stone" is actually an elf. So. She likes to think she's a little more in the know than they are.
She's here for a refill on her bullets ( one can never be too safe ), and to organize the last few reports that have come in ( but the citizens of Woodhurst have come to realize the PD can't actually do much ). Neither of these things take too long, and she's out of the door in a couple of hours.
Even underneath a pile of clothes, she recognizes her mother anywhere. ] Mo— Olivia? [ She stops herself in time, eyebrows furrowed as she immediately crouches down to Olivia's level. The concern's written all over her face, immediately assuming the worst — there's no blood, thankfully, but— ] What's wrong? Is everything alright?
no it's too late goodbye
[ olivia, in turn, seems only reinvigorated at the sight of her. she is quick to sit up a little straighter, perking up on the very energy she'd been conserving by sitting so still in the first place. ]
There you are, I knew you'd come.
[ she gets back up to her feet, seemingly unaware that she'd caused her future daughter some alarm. ]</small. Are you all finished up inside?
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( haise )
it's this that she carries with her to the police station one day, unsure where else she might find the man. while there is comfort in his supposed inability (or less likelihood) of catching the virus, she knows that he, like her, would have probably only taken their good fortune and health and turned it into that much more motivation to work (and overwork) themselves.
here's hoping it won't be to death. ]
Um, hello... Is Detective Sasaki in today...?
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When Olivia approaches though, it's enough to make him pause, catching that telltale mixture of earthy and floral scents. The recognition is easy to spot, fast chased by curiosity before he glances up to find the source-]
Ah, Olivia- [Surprise lifts his eyebrows, disappearing somewhere behind the curly mess of his hair] What brings you here?
[Already, he's closing the file and setting it aside, somewhere amid the ordered chaos of his desk]
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I'm sorry, I was hoping you wouldn't be too busy, [ she says in a quiet voice, ignorant of the number of stares her presence has garnered. she certainly doesn't look like she belongs anywhere in a police station, by a detective's desk, especially one always so put together and immaculate-looking like haise. ]
I was just hoping to drop you something to... to help you along.
[ it comes off a little weakly, because she realizes now it probably won't really be much help at all. still, she sets the small tupperware down on a rare, clean spot on his desk. ]
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