There’s work to be done below deck. Cooking, inventory. It doesn’t much matter to me what you do, you’ll be keeping her out of jail, and for that we owe you a shot at a way out of here, if we can find one.
[OHHHH okay yes this would make sense. Her ship is mostly self-sufficient on a lot of functions, needing humans only to do spot checks, and her pilot is a freak who loves doing that shit. But when she thinks about its self-performing functions and tries to come up with an analog on an unpowered ship, things she can do begin to pop up.]
Below deck seems good, actually, yeah. I can probably cook and keep track of food supplies, I'm okay at it.
It probably goes without saying, but I'll take any potential chance at getting out of here. Bree and I have a son to get back to.
I can. There will just have to be a rule about no one moving things in the kitchen other than myself. [Once she's got it arranged and memorized, something not being where it ought to be is a whole fucking production for her.]
We had help. I carried him. [Jack can assume what he wants about this, but maybe at some point she'll explain the whole fertility process they used.]
[ Jack is obviously not familiar with modern fertility treatments, much less futuristic ones, but he's just fine assuming she was able to grin and bear sex with a man until she conceived. In his time, even people mostly, or exclusively attracted to the same sex end up doing what's expected of them in the end. ]
I'm sorry to hear that you've been separated. I'm not a father, of course, but I imagine it must be quite the trial.
I'm not sure if it's better or worse that he's a baby. Like...even if we really are gone at home or something, if time is somehow passing, he won't remember it. He's...
Sorry. I don't know. I try not to think about it.
[Jack just saw more vulnerability from her than most (non-Bree) people see in a week, even so quickly shut down. She fears that if she lets herself think about Declan, something will just come rushing in on her to crush her to powder and she'll never put herself back together.]
[ And he doesn’t judge her vulnerability, or at least, he doesn’t sound like it. It’s good, strong information about who Orla is, what makes her tic. Something he can use, if Anne ends up hurt because of all this.
Jack’s tone betrays no scheme, no filing away of potential mind games to come. It’s sympathetic, the somber tone making its way onto his face, even knowing there’s no need for it. ]
If it’s any consolation, there are reports of people who have been flung back and forth from this place. They go back home at the very moment they were taken, and return here some time later. It seems as if time will hold still, as far as your son is concerned.
[She'd expect it if it did -- sympathy can be real and coexist with calculation, remembering your enemy's and friend's flaws alike. A pirate can do no less if they mean to survive.]
I've heard that. I try to remember it.
He's seven months old. Seven-month-olds are basically potatoes. A nannybot can take care of him about as well as I can. It's fine. I'm f-
I'm at least glad that I wasn't nursing anymore. Basically the minute I got here the city was like, do you want to try this lactation kink drug and I was like absolutely the fuck not.
...Wait, you're not from one of those weird times where no one talks about nursing, are you? [It's a pretty casual topic of conversation in her culture, judging by her tone, but it occurs to her belatedly that people from other times sometimes take boobs very seriously.]
Well, sorry anyway. There's time periods where nursing is considered gross or impolite but I can never keep that shit straight. Never had a reason to, before this place.
Cannot imagine a ship with one woman though. Wild.
I try to keep that in mind. Whatever other bullshit, I've got her. My second in command, my first among equals. They can't throw anything at me that I can't handle with her.
...Which, of course, means they've got an obvious pressure point if they're willing to lose one of us. But I'm assuming they would have just not brought us both if they wanted to do that.
That other pair, they came at the same time, and left at the same time. When I worry about these things, and trust that I do, knowing that brings me some peace.
Laszlo Cravensworth, and his wife, Nadja. They were vampires. Rather odd people, if I’m honest, but quite amusing company. Their love was overwhelmingly clear.
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Below deck seems good, actually, yeah. I can probably cook and keep track of food supplies, I'm okay at it.
It probably goes without saying, but I'll take any potential chance at getting out of here. Bree and I have a son to get back to.
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Sorry, a child? Between two women?
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We had help. I carried him. [Jack can assume what he wants about this, but maybe at some point she'll explain the whole fertility process they used.]
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[ Jack is obviously not familiar with modern fertility treatments, much less futuristic ones, but he's just fine assuming she was able to grin and bear sex with a man until she conceived. In his time, even people mostly, or exclusively attracted to the same sex end up doing what's expected of them in the end. ]
I'm sorry to hear that you've been separated. I'm not a father, of course, but I imagine it must be quite the trial.
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[huff.]
I'm not sure if it's better or worse that he's a baby. Like...even if we really are gone at home or something, if time is somehow passing, he won't remember it. He's...
Sorry. I don't know. I try not to think about it.
[Jack just saw more vulnerability from her than most (non-Bree) people see in a week, even so quickly shut down. She fears that if she lets herself think about Declan, something will just come rushing in on her to crush her to powder and she'll never put herself back together.]
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[ And he doesn’t judge her vulnerability, or at least, he doesn’t sound like it. It’s good, strong information about who Orla is, what makes her tic. Something he can use, if Anne ends up hurt because of all this.
Jack’s tone betrays no scheme, no filing away of potential mind games to come. It’s sympathetic, the somber tone making its way onto his face, even knowing there’s no need for it. ]
If it’s any consolation, there are reports of people who have been flung back and forth from this place. They go back home at the very moment they were taken, and return here some time later. It seems as if time will hold still, as far as your son is concerned.
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I've heard that. I try to remember it.
He's seven months old. Seven-month-olds are basically potatoes. A nannybot can take care of him about as well as I can. It's fine. I'm f-
...Okay, I'm obviously not fine, but I'm fine.
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Fake it 'till you make it, darling.
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...Wait, you're not from one of those weird times where no one talks about nursing, are you? [It's a pretty casual topic of conversation in her culture, judging by her tone, but it occurs to her belatedly that people from other times sometimes take boobs very seriously.]
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Cannot imagine a ship with one woman though. Wild.
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[ To borrow Anne's own turn of phrase. ]
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I'm glad you have each other. I honestly am not sure what I'd even be doing, without Bree.
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...Which, of course, means they've got an obvious pressure point if they're willing to lose one of us. But I'm assuming they would have just not brought us both if they wanted to do that.
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That other pair, they came at the same time, and left at the same time. When I worry about these things, and trust that I do, knowing that brings me some peace.
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They even had the good luck to be assigned opposite designations. Made things nice and easy for them, didn’t seem bothered by a thing.
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