On Any Other Day

[earthborn]

Who| Shepard And Her Adoring Fans
What| The Customer Complaints Desk Is [OPEN]
Where| A lovely little park outside a lovely little café on a quiet day when the sun is shining, just after a certain network post
When| The morning after Shepard's Exposé goes live.
Warnings/Notes| Talk of murder, genocide, cussing, and political discourse. God help us all.

The sun is shining, the birds are singing, she's got a rail-thin barrista with a shock of violet-pink hair, and he keeps bringing her coffee from all the way across the street. On any other day, she'd call it perfect— he keeps sarcastically saluting her and she keeps sarcastically thanking him as 'private', and the coffee is damn good in addition to cheap and hand-delivered. On any other day.

But despite the shining weather and the convenient caffeine-drip, she's not set up here with the empty chair beside her own for the sake of simple joys.

Come at me, bro.

Comments

[hit_girl_mindy]

Mindy had seen the expose and shrugged. Sure, it was fucked up. Certainly, finding that out would be enough to fear that Shepard might be setting them up at any time. But honestly, the woman she'd met for a short time in the training room didn't seem to quite mesh with the psychopath that she was portrayed as in the video. So why not get her curiosity satiated from the source?

She took a seat across from Shepard, ordering a hot chocolate.

"Got an earful about you yesterday," Mindy said. "I imagine you're getting some flack, or suspicion. Or both."

[earthborn]

"Ah, this is nothing. I'm pretty used to seeing my name in mud on the newsvids," She sips at her own drink then sets it down beside its friends, the empty paper cups she's been collecting.

"After the actual mess at Torfan, they rioted outside my hotel," It had been a terrible mess, and she'd gotten a promotion out of it. Hell of a thing, "Most of my detractors like to start off with 'butcher' or something, so I assume you're here to ask questions, right? Shoot."

[hit_girl_mindy]

"Well sure, something like that is bound to get attention. Makes you wonder if they have the right person doing the right things. Granted, in my world, if you do something like that likely you pissed off someone, and they still don't get all the information anyway."

There were always ways to hide the worst of the worst.

"I guess I'm just curious about how much of that shit is true, really."

[pythianjudgment]

Terezi shows up just as promised, a small stack of papers clutched neatly in her hands. She would have stapled them together or something if she had the thought to find a stapler, but let's be honest. That was really too much trouble.

She approaches Shepard casually and plants herself into the empty seat next to her. There's no way the woman wouldn't see her coming, so Terezi doesn't bother trying to sneak up on her or anything. She'll have to save that for some other time.

"I believe you will find all my forms are in proper order." She sets the stack of papers in Shepard's lap--and really, they look like they're just a bunch of crayon drawings. Most of them are of Terezi, but there's a couple that look a little like Shepard, too. Almost all of the papers are varying themes of dismembered assailants lying scattered around the dramatically posed combatants.

"There's really no reason for you to not hire me, so I just draw a bunch of pictures of me being cool as shit. And some of you. I think you'll appreciate my artistically rendered credentials."

[earthborn]

"Oh good, blind-girl scribbles, this'll look great on your resumé."

She's being sarcastic, but she's also leafing through them. This one with Shepard apparantly punching...? Yes, she is definitely punching what appears to be all of the blood out of a vague, humanoid figure.

"...This one's pretty good," She's a fan of violence, she is, "Well I'll pass this up the chain of command for review, and get back to you."

Then she sat back, reached for her coffee, and took a sip. Then another, swirling it experimentally with a contrived air of deep thought. This went on for a full sixty seconds, at least.

"The committee is back from review and we'd just like to say, welcome aboard."

[pythianjudgment]

"Yesss." Terezi pumps her fist in the air just once, then assumes a innocently professional posture. You didn't see anything, Shepard.

"That was easier than joining the Fleet ever would have been. And you know, less life-threatening." Because troll options at her age were basically: get into the Fleet or die. Right after the obstacle of Reproduce or Die. Actually 'or Die' seemed to be the alternative to a lot of their mandatory expectations.

"So what am I supposed to call you now? Shep? Shepard? Captain Murderfleet?"

[drunkenmentor]

Haymitch, being ever so disgustingly familiar with the Capitol, recognizes the park from the video she'd broadcasted. He's met a couple of victors from other worlds already, but this one intrigues him enough that he actually decides to seek her out.

Or maybe he's just taking a stroll though the park. Letting himself air out, so to say.

Either way, he recognizes her as soon as he spots her. She's been on the news, had her own special, and Haymitch has a way of remembering faces and names even if people don't expect him to remember what he was doing a few hours ago.

He plops down beside her without any kind of invitation or introduction. Before, he was used to people just knowing who he was. Now, he's come to the realization that he's been out of the loop long enough for some people to not have the slightest idea of who he is. Whether or not she knows his face is irrelevant to Haymitch at this point.

"Well, you sound pretty terrible."

[earthborn]

"Well, I am the 'Butcher of Universes,' if you haven't heard."

This man wasn't one of the tributes, that was for damn sure. But after her encounter with Joanna Mason at the most recent Victor Gala, she'd made a point to learn the rest of them. So she could remember, after a moment of thought, that this was one Haymitch Abernathy.

He was notorious for being most usually found drunk, hungover, a little of both, or just plain belligerent, qualities that immediately endeared him to Shepard on a fairly basic level. This place could drive anyone to drink, but it was the liars that really started to piss her off after a while.

Case in point: this so-called'exposé.'

"Is that all you wanted to say, or is this just your usual spot?"

[drunkenmentor]

"Yep. And that's exactly why I ought to be avoiding you," he allows, with a flourish of his hands, as if he actually cares about stupid nicknames that the Capitol bestows upon its victors.

Haymitch has learnt to take what the Capitol dishes out with a gran of salt, so to say. A fucking massive grain of rock salt. He never trusts what they say, and that applies definitely to the tributes they're carting in from who knows where. Randomly selected children never deserve to die, and neither do randomly selected people from outer space.

"If I had a 'usual spot,' it sure as hell wouldn't be across from a fucking coffee shop," he says with a snort, as he plucks a flask from his pocket and takes a swig. He offers it to Shepard, then. Yes, he's judging her as to whether or not she accepts.

[justoutrunyou]

Sandy appeared as she usually did, suddenly and surprised as if she hadn't expected to find Shephard where she was. The scrawny girl came out of the cafe looking for the commander after having searched the inside for her.

"Oh...hey."

Shuffling over she waited for permission to take her seat. Part of her wondered if she should be nervous around someone so capable. But that part was smothered by the part of her that had learned how to throw a punch from Shephard.

[earthborn]

"Sandy. Have a seat," she's always happy to see the kid. After all, if Sandy decides she's smarter going to sling shit and cuss route, Shepard is fairly confident she has nothing to fear.

No offense, kid, but you're not exactly a strong fighter— not yet.

"Saw you pulling out the stops the other day. It's a good idea," She's proud of you, child, it shows good initiative, "But you didn't come down here to talk shop at me. What's first?"

[justoutrunyou]

"Talk shop?" It was an antiquated phrase in her own time.

"Actually I wanted to thank you for helping me. It...feels good to punch stuff." She admitted sounding a little embarrassed. Since she had learned how to punch properly she was punching things every day in the training room trying to teach her knuckles how to do it without hurting.

The stupid story could wait, credit was deserved first.

[polyturtle]

Don hadn't actually expected to see Shepard as he walked through the city. It was spring, after all. It was admittedly nice to get out, after the horrors of the summer, fall and winter. Maybe this year, he could figure things about this hellhole.

Shepard wasn't necessarily one of those things he'd thought of figuring out. He knew that this Shepard was markedly different from the one he'd known first. Always suspected that, regardless of Donatello's own closet of skeletons as a ninja, Shepard's closet was probably much more spacious - and fuller - as a soldier. And he most certainly heard of the expose, at the least, even if he hadn't watched it. Which, of course, he didn't have much choice in not watching it.

But he didn't believe a single shelling word said about the whole thing. He'd been in the Capitol too long to know. What was shown wasn't the truth, not even close. It was what the Capitol wanted people to see, to see how they should view Shepard. Don't get too close, because she's a monster. How ironically familiar that sounded to him. How horribly ironic.

But then he spotted Shepard, and perhaps before Shepard knew it, there was a turtle-shaped figure sliding into the chair on the other side of it. There was a fist under his chin as he looked thoughtfully up at the waiter who was passing by.

"Tea, please."

[earthborn]

It always surprises her to see something like Donatello move with such agility. It feels like a joke, like when the Krogan in action vids have their acrobatics sped up until they leave blur-trails. That's her expectations working against her, she should know better by now.

"Hey Don," more surprising than that is that he's here at all. She wouldn't have anticipating him having much to say— but then, maybe he'd made Kaidan's mistake and invested a little too much faith in her, never a wise decision, "What brings you out here so...early."

As if there were any doubt.

[polyturtle]

"I'm an early riser," Don replied with a shrug. It was the truth. "Just walking around outside for once, though to be honest, I hadn't anticipated seeing you out here."

He paused a bit, before continuing.

"Probably goes without saying that I saw the 'special' last night..."

[carnagecarnival]

More war goddess than mortal.

Motherfucking hoofbeastshit.

Avenging angel.

By then, they were just rubbing it the fuck in. They show her living like shit in her youth and ain't that just hilarious. Cullbait trash attracts cullbait trash. Turns out the saying was true, he thinks, as he makes his way on over. Turns out she wasn't an entitled elite fishfuck afterall. No, she was just an entitled elite heretic who'd scraped along the bottom of the dreg filled barrel and managed to dust herself of as she stepped from it. You could never tell with one like her or one like him.

They paint her pathetic and in next breath, they paint her "the butcher". He groaned at the capitol's efforts. Turning them from model soldiers to bloodthirsty killers. Goddamn, could they not even see their lies or were they so motherfucking stupid so as to fail to understand how all bloodthirsty killer and model soldiers are the same damn thing? Fucking dullpans. He watches the whole thing go, all 'wah wah she did her job and killed some people, boo motherfucking hoo'. All the while its drenched in hoofbeastshit after goddamn beast dropping.

And then before he can say a damn word, Pyrope is up on there, running with it.

Now he's here. In the motherfucking bright of day. Messiahs he does so hate this diurnal lunacy. He hates her for making him go out in it.

He invites himself right into that empty chair, greeting her with, "Hey, here's a motherfucking idea, how about we motherfucking don't up and use his name on at to whoever she pleases."

[earthborn]

"Why."

It's dull and flat because she knows just enough about Troll culture to be reasonably sure that they'd react like Krogan to news of a genocide among their number. Quirks a smile to remember that deepvoiced retort, 'But I approve. The vengeful Shepard cleanses the false prophet's army in nuclear fire. I like that part, it has weight.'

"In case you hadn't noticed, nobody bothered to write a primer on your culture. That I know of," No, she's not worried that Kurloz will run off in a huff. He's too stubborn for that— there is, however, only one thing to which he could be referring, "...Are you the Pyrope kid having a fight?"

[keep_surviving]

"Hey." Diana grins as she sits in the chair.

Fully loaded hot chocolate in one hand, basket of brownies in the other, because apparently ordering just one wouldn't have sufficed.

She places her spoils on the table and eats one of the marshmallows resting in the whipped cream of her drink before beginning a long overdue conversation with Shepard.

"How's my district buddy?"

[earthborn]

Shepard considered a number of responses, all of them biting, and very few with more than a nodding acquaintance with politeness. She let them sit in her brain like little fireflies, all flashing lights and angry motion.

It's not Diana, really, it's just the whole damn day. The Commander wasn't someone who particularly enjoyed explaining herself, even when it was by choice.

"Been better," brownies are good. She can justify her good behavior with brownies.

[gunshiptotheface]

It wasn't uncommon for Garrus to drop by looking for Shepard after his morning run. Of course finding her not in her usual places he took his morning run to various locations in the city.

The park was one of the first places he checked and spotting her, jogged over to stop and see what she was doing.

"So, did you threaten the barista or did the expose do that job for you?"

[earthborn]

Ah, the dreaded Turian patrol. Alliance stealthiness foiled again.

"Would it shock you to learn that bringing people coffee in exchange for material wealth is actually his job?"

[aintyourdad]

Joel saw the expose. And he saw the network post that followed. It's all ridiculous, all of it, but Joel - well, he doesn't know Shepard all that well, but he likes her. She's one of the few people here he does like.

Maybe that's why he comes to the park, sits down next to her, staying silent for a moment.

"Not sure what they think this whole circus is gonna accomplish," he says after a moment's thought.

[earthborn]

She sipped her latest coffee— decaf, by now. She had to pay strange attentions to her diet, since arriving in Panem. It was usually a struggle to keep enough calories coming in, but here it was all a careful battle to throttle down her metabolism to a crawl before each arena. Regardless, she hardly needed more caffeine right now, particularly without her biotics to burn through the excess.

Now Joel. Joel was the kind of man who went after someone with a knife as if he not only meant to hurt them, but fully understood what that would mean. There was a certain hesitation in people unused to killing; you could see the place where they steeled for it before striking. Joel didn't have that, he expected the wet give of skin and blood, the same way Shepard listened automatically for the smooth action of the reload mechanism. It would have felt wrong, any other way.

Of course she'd watched his arena performance. She liked what she saw.

"I think they were trying to just trying discredit the other guy," And they certainly rattled Carlos, at least "Looks like they're trying to scare people off of allying with me— without seeming like it, of course. Gotta play to those sponsor sympathies. Politics."

Shepard did not hold a high opinion of politics.

"You're taking it awfully well."

something something late with starbucks

[sithcretapprentice]

Watching Shepard's expose had been... interesting. The woman had told him to do his research, and he had, which meant watching this as well. Almost immediately, he became skeptical of it. Shepard didn't seem like the kind of person they had portrayed her to be. He could certainly believe that she's more than capable of killing thousands of people, that part isn't what has him skeptical.

It's the idea that she would do it simply for the pleasure of it. Even he hadn't been that cold or heartless. He'd killed because he had to- if he didn't, he would've been killed. Even he'd questioned some of the more pointless deaths during his apprenticeship to Vader. Seeing Shepard portrayed as someone solely in it for the pleasure of death just doesn't add up.

So he's decided to approach her on it. He feels a bit more awkward than he had hoped as he sits down heavily beside her. "So how much of it wasn't real?" His voice is full of skepticism as he folds his arms over his chest.

where is my latte

[earthborn]

"That's the question isn't it?"

She gave himt he once-over. So. 'Starkiller.' The man who came in like the front for a death-metal band and ended up hanging around with Hans and getting his feelings hurt when Shepard called him out. He was trying for badass with that haircut too— but somehow still managed to come across more like a kicked puppy.

"The footage was real. But the editing was pretty creative. And the actual narrative was complete crock," She folded her own arms, half out of habit, and half as a point of absurdity. C'mon Tough Guy, you're not fooling shit, "So you might wanna be more specific."