A Reputation For Breaking Hearts | OPEN

[earthborn]

Who| Shepard and Open
What| Shepard makes her rounds (and perhaps meets a few new friends)
Where| Various spots around the Capitol, including the Reagan Mansion
When| Both before and after the end of the Contagion plot
Warnings/Notes| Possible Spoilers for Mass Effect, cussing, and ect

1: The Quarantine, soon after the broadcast about D13
The Reagan Mansion was a beautiful, sprawling masterpiece, like the architect had been a schizophrenic genius. What had really happened was that the place had once been a singular house, grand and glorious, and every part of the family to follow that original parcel had added onto it. Some hid the seams better than others. It made for an interesting walk, nonetheless, and Shepard walked along, seemingly unbothered, looking for friends, for allies, for those she knew.

People she trusted.

After all, she had something in her hand to muffle the Capitol's ears, and something good to say into that silence.


2:The Speakeasy, after Quarantine ends
What it called for, what everything usually called for, was a drink. And the nice thing about this place, hole-in-the-wall that it tried to be, was that it didn't ask too many questions before just serving your damn booze. Shepard could comfortably find a dark and shady place to hunch over her beer and not be bothered.

Or maybe she wanted to be bothered. Wouldn't be the first time she's asked someone to meet her in a bar, or been asked the same. Regardless of whether or not you've been invited, maybe you just like to drink-- or to buy drinks for clearly uninterested women. Or maybe you just need a hobby. Either way, that is Commander Shepard, and this is currently her favorite barstool in the Capitol.


3: The Traditional Post-Arena Blanket Fort, anytime vaguely after Shepard exits from the arena
The really wonderful thing about growing up was that nobody could tell you, with any legitimacy, that you were doing it wrong. When Shepard had been a child, enclosed spaces with two or more ways out had been the nearest thing to security that she'd ever had. It meant warmth and security without being trapped. It still meant that, still gave her a way to relax, somewhere in the back of her mind. Stupid. The whole idea was pure sentiment; but it was all she really had.

Well that, and an elaborate series of couches, mattresses, cushions, sheets all pinned, tucked, taped, tied or simply draped over one another. with her pile of snackfoods, Shepard was the Pillow Fort, the boss, CEO, Queen if she was feeling dramatic. It didn't matter... The Tribute Center ground floor Lobby had no titled ruler and only one rule:

Do Not Fuck With The Pillow Fort.

Comments

3

[justoutrunyou]

Sandy was finally recovering from the announcement when she spied the pillow fortress taking up most of the lobby.

With Duck in arm she made her way to the entrance and sent him in first. The young waterfowl waddled his way inside carelessly.

Meanwhile Sandy circled around the side and squeezed in through a crack between two sofa cushions.

[earthborn]

Shepard was lying on her back in the gloom, thinking about nothing much at all and focusing on the heartbeat-pulse of her scars-- they ached. The duck was what gave her away, waddling around, wedging it's breast through crackling chip-bags and over Shepard's extended shins. Shepard sighed; it couldn't have been Pruna, it had to be...

"Hey," she said, without moving, and did not smile, "Got a minute to talk?"

1 and you know it babe

[aintyourdad]

Joel wouldn't have come to this place - the plague is effectively over, for one thing, and for another, well. He's used to the tribute tower, and a place like this? Just makes him uncomfortable.

What gets him here, though, is Shepard's message. Lighthearted, innocuous - and not like her at all. Which means something is going on, something he probably needs to hear. So, despite his discomfort at the opulent surroundings, here he is. Approaching Shepard in a garden of some kind, like a goddamn clandestine spy meeting.

"What the hell is this all about?" he asks without preamble.

[earthborn]

A place like this, opulent, clean, rife with the many embellishments that came with time, money, and a sense of style that brought to mind harpsichords and Machiavellian politics? It was old, no, it was antique... and that meant out-of-date. Shepard doesn't get up from the cute little garden-chair she was sitting in when he cam striding through the flowerbeds, but she's about to.

"Thanks for coming," she can't afford to look standoffish, not if this is gonna work, but that doesn't stop the twist of sarcasm through her tone, "This is going to seem pretty stupid, but I need you to trust me. Think you can handle that?"

1!

[polyturtle]

Don was...doing better. After that break, after letting it sink in, he really was. It wasn't a comfort, what happened, of course. But even in the horror, there was a relief of sorts. Maybe it was a selfish relief, in a way, but it was better than no relief at this point.

But he needed to stop. He needed to empty his mind, and control his emotions again. And so he was in one of the wooded areas, sitting cross-legged, eyes closed. He was in meditation, for the first time in some time. He had to clear himself out, and figure out what he could do, now that he was in a more...stable frame of mind.

He wasn't sure how long he'd stay out there just sitting. But he'd stay out there as long as necessary.

[earthborn]

Of the many skills Shepard had that exemplified her as a warrior, meditation was one she had never mastered. Thane had tried, of course, as had Samara, and even Kelly. Chakwas had recommended it once-- but only once. Mordin, wise man, had suggested a more pharmaceutical intervention. She'd ignored it, of course, but at least the good Professor was practical enough to know a lost cause when he met one.

Still, she recognized the pose, legs crossed, arms loose, palms up. There wasn't much else to compare; none of the light show of Samara's Asari meditation-biotics although she supposed Donatello could be adopting as straight a spine as his spine would go. She was gentle enough, sat down next to him on the grass and only after a few minutes of waiting did she reach over and give him a shove. Two fingers against his shoulder.

"Hey Don. Got a minute to talk?"

3

[pythianjudgment]

The news of District 3 is still hanging over her when Terezi decides a walk might do her good. Not necessarily the fresh air, but the moving about is more needed. She can't sit in the suite commons forever.

Heading downstairs, she tries to avoid talking to anyone. Being out and about doesn't mean that she has to be sociable. But she stops dead when coming into the main commons and finding... a pillow fort? Her brow furrows, but there's a bit of amusement. It's strange and a bit familiar, and certainly an eye-sore for any of the Capitolites. Unprofessionalism and rule-breaking are in short supply right now.

Heading over to the fort, she wanders around the outside as far as she can before crawling into the structure to find out if the architect is home.

[earthborn]

The Queen is of course on her throne, legs propped up from knee to ankles on a pile of pillows supporting a tablet with her toes. On the screen a grizzled, artfully bloodied action hero dodges bullets and drives a musclecar through an increasingly improbably obstacle course of explosions, enemy fire, and exciting special effects set-pieces.

And yes, she has popcorn.

"Hey, close the curtain--" the nice thing about trolls is that they have distinctive profiles. There's no hiding those Pyrope horns, "...Oh. Hey, welcome back tot he land of the living."

[silberfuchs]

There hadn't been a fort when Albert had left the training center that afternoon but there certainly is one now, taking up the entire floor from the entryway to the elevators to the point where one would either have to crawl through it or walk around the perimeter of the room to get back upstairs.

It's a development he doesn't particularly care for, but he's not so cruel as to simply walk through what clearly took some effort to build. Instead he paces back and forth at the front a few times, then sighs heavily (almost theatrically) and starts the trek around the outer edge to the elevators. Like hell was he going to crawl through the blanketed tunnels with his ass in the air like a child.

[earthborn]

Hey Albert, maybe if you put your ass up, you could finally work the stick out of it.

Shepard's not prone to any particular obliviousness, but the intervening layers of fabric and safety-pins might have dulled her ability to see Albert coming. Still, it's not as if the Fort is unoccupied, so if he's watching the fort as much as his step, he might be able to spot Shepard through a skylight gap.

...And as soon as she sees his struggle, oh yes, that is a proper smirk

1

[dying]

Thane's method of monitoring the situation was, more or less, a very literal approach. He remained in the background, as he preferred, and watched as the chaos unfolded. He wasn't much for interfering with things, but he knew that he could step in should things get out of hand or go a little crazy. It was only a matter of time this would happen, especially with the recent broadcast.

He knew that she was coming, though. So he stayed near his room, so she would know where to find him - so they could talk. Presumably about the recent events and how to proceed with the current situation.

[earthborn]

She knocked, of course, but the door was open. The private rooms here were a far cry from the standard-issue opulence of the Tribute Center. The rooms were more like suites, and everything was...

Embellished.

Still, Shepard had to smile when she saw him there, sitting the delicate little table, like an avatar of patience. It was a far cry from the blunted, practical lines of Life Support, but just the seeing him like this was a minor homecoming.

She couldn't resist, "Do you have a minute to talk?"

3

[hit_girl_mindy]

How could you not be curious about a pillow fort? Mindy was walking by and there it was, standing there in all its glory. Naturally, Mindy thought this was something set up by Sandy, or maybe Clementine.

Imagine her surprise when she saw Shepard of all people.

"Oh, hey. I didn't think this was your style..."

[earthborn]

"What, you never thought I'd have picked up a few traditions in the Marines?"

It's all bullshit, of course, but when isn't it? Marines don't build pillow forts, except, perhaps, in Panem. Shepard beckons her over with one hand, and tosses a bag of something dusted with what might dubiously be considered cheese once she's in range.

"So, just what is 'my style' in your expert analysis?"

1

[atippleoftransparency]

Lyle had been busy, what with the whole "being a biochemist during a pandemic" thing going on. But Shepherd wasn't back in Tribute Tower yet, even if she would be soon, so he hustled his butt out to the Reagan place to investigate the too-innocuous invitation she'd sent.

"You're right," he greeted her when he finally, finally found her at this stupidly-huge house. "The architecture is definitely worth the trip."

He gave her a cheeky smile. "But if you think I'm climbing on it for training, you got another thing coming."

All right, Shepherd. He came out here. Why was he really out here?

[earthborn]

Lyle was a smart kid, wise enough to sort out where his bread was buttered and cleave to good sense and a greater good. Or at least, the greater good that he might personally experience.

Usually, Shepard ended up dismissing or regretting these minor alliances, but in this case it wasn't about her or her mission.

"Nah, I just thought we could have a conversation face-to-face. I hate vid conferences," which was true enough, "Speaking of which, how'd you like to go off the record for a few minutes?"

2.

[assassinat]

A hard drink is what she needs after a day like today. Having to cull her trip to the manor early and risk infection all to return to rough up the man who shared her partner's name. Russian women need strong drinks, so when she rattles off liquors with high content values, she doesn't care who all hears.

In her peripheral she recognizes someone. What better way to enjoy a drink than to enjoy it in good company? Gathering her glasses onto a tray to take with herself (yes, there are multiple), she makes her way over with ease.

"Do you mind?"

[earthborn]

"Not at all," Shepard could sympathize, if she knew, on the subject of having to play arbiter in violent conflict within her own team. Her own drink is something much closer to water than Ryncol, but it's got a healthy percentage of its makeup owed to ethanol just the same.

"So, had your first arena," It burns when she drinks, but there's just no competing with Krogan liqour, "Saw you got taken down by Krios. That's rough, but he's known for making it clean."

3

[privilegecheck]

After everything that's happening, Kankri can't help wanting some kind of security. And Shepard is good at providing that, in her frank, no-nonsense kind of way.

Also, pillow forts were always nice, though you'd never get Kankri to admit that he finds comfort in something so childish.

So he crawls inside and makes himself comfortable, nodding hello to Shepard.

"I didn't really see anyone while I was in the Arena. Have you been doing well, Jane?"

And he holds out a bag full of donut holes to her. He doesn't feel up to cooking right now, but it feels customary to have some kind of food with her, after their breakfasts in the D5 commons.

[earthborn]

"Eh. I could complain, but what's the point?" She accepts the gift and lobs a pack of 'sugar grubs' back at him to reciprocate. They're just gummy worms really, but a lot of tribute-related merchandise has mysteriously gone on sale in the last couple of weeks, "Life's shit and then you die, and then life's still shit. Had a pretty good fight with this Rogers guy, though. Got paid for that one."

There's always a silver lining, right? Right?

"You holding up, kid?"

3

[sithcretapprentice]

It's major deja vu when Starkiller sees the blanket fort. He remembers the first time he saw it, he had judged Shepard a lot- he'd been stupid then. Too cocky, too judgmental. He's come a long way since then- but the biggest difference here is that he can't talk anymore- so even if he did want to judge her, he can't.

But he doesn't, and he wouldn't if he could.

He knows he ought to move along, that as an avox he has no place here- but he can abuse loopholes in order to check in on Shepard. His job is to help, they never specified that he can't help with things like this. So Starkiller leaves for a while, gathering up a few things.

When he returns, he's holding a few more blankets and pillows, as well as a small bag of various snacks from the kitchens. Part of his job is to serve people food, after all. A part of him is afraid he'll get punished for this, but he's trying hard as he can to ignore it. It's his way of trying to make up for the last time the pillow fort was there, as well as to check in on her. He hasn't seen her in a while.

With the supplies in hand, he peeks his head into the fort.

[earthborn]

Shepard can't help it: she stares.

Starkiller. The boy with the chip on his shoulder the size of a frigate. He of the angry proclamations, who'd befriended Hans, of all people. The guy who could throw lightning when he so chose, and wasn't that just a nifty trick? Some traitor part of Shepard that wasn't fully engaged with wanting to back away as swiftly as possible made a promise to itself that she'd one day ask him how it was done, if they survived this.

He was an Avox, that much had spread through the rumor-mill's merciless clockwork. Jane knew, without the slightest hesitation, what she'd want done with herself under similar circumstances. Death, any death, was better than this.

"Starkiller if you don't want me to put you out of your misery, you're going to want to turn around and leave."

2

[aboveangrybees]

This place was, well, as comfortable as it was possible to get behind enemy lines. Oh, and this was definitely behind enemy lines, but the atmosphere and the promise of a conversation that was actually safe from government ears? That was worth the moment of displaced comfort.

So, he sits at the bar, drinking an odd drink that's in a martini glass. He has no idea what it is, but he thinks it was meant to look like a shield and with him having fought with a shield the entire arena, so he supposes it makes sense that when he sat down they sat this in front of him. And he's far too polite to decline something given to him like this. He'll just get a beer when he's done with it.

[earthborn]

It made for an interesting picture. Steve Rogers was not a small man. He was... tall, broad-shouldered, strong in the jaw, daintily sipping on a novelty cocktail with an all-american star-spangled umbrella sticking out the side. You'll excuse Shepard for reserving a moment just to take it all in; it's quite a picture.

But the moment, like all such sweet and fleeting things, must pass. He's just the man she wanted to see, after all.

"This seat taken?" it's a silly question, given how she's already swapping into the barstool in question, "I think you and I should have real conversation."

1

[carnagecarnival]

He doesn't immediately search for her or seek her out. A kismesis must be at the top of their game to properly tear down their partner and step the fuck over. Weakness is death, it is injury, it's a way to, quite frankly, get dumped for being too pathetic and not enough of a challenge. But he doesn't have it in him. He doesn't have the energy for tearing into her right now. He's dizzy with drugs, adrenaline high because finally capitol was letting their fucking honesty show and he warned everyone, and he's dragging along in things (Mituna, Mituna, his moirail, his beloved) he can't deal with at all.

And, yeah, maybe he's a little annoyed over catching certain recaps ( "So is it true you're hatedating the Initiate?" "No, I'm not."), a little bitter, and a little thinking she was dodging before they'd even begun. But fuck that. He doesn't care. Not at all. No. He doesn't at all have the voices of the Capitolite talk show narrators snickering away in his head.

He arrives hours after the announcement and then he spends a fair bit more wandering, fucking around, not thinking. He's certainly not looking for her or even expecting her really. So when he sees her face, even in all how much shit he feels and looks, his face and mood manage to sour more.

[earthborn]

Shepard's used to censoring herself.

That's the kind of statement that would raise chuckles, back home. She's rather famous for speaking her mind, often loudly, and particularly in the direction of galactic authority. But people often forget that, before she was Commander Shepard, patron saint of Shouting Diplomacy, she was Operative Shepard graduate of N-school and a veteran of quite a few Alliance black-ops.

But right now, she's feeling better than she has in months, the jammer in her pocket lets her breathe again. It lends you purpose, after all the pointless cycles, the ennui. Maybe that was what Harbinger used to mean by it. Christ, was she sympathizing with a Reaper? Fucking Capitol.

"Hey, you look like shit," it all added up to an easy candor, when she came upon him on the stair, leaning both arms over the railing at him as if this were the Shepard manse and no Reagan had ever set foot here, "Guess what I got?"

She was smirking; too easy, Kurloz.

3. a little bit after their talk.

[dying]

It was his turn to sneak in on her. He walked towards the entrance of the pillow fort, making sure his footsteps were purposeful and just a bit noisy. It was similar to those moments during which he had met her. There would be a distraction, then he could sneak in and make the kill. (If it wasn't broken, don't fix it.)

After a few moments, anyone inside would hear nothing - just dead silence.

In those few moments of silence, Thane would make his way inside with all of the effort and grace that he had on the job. He had gotten into the fort previously, so it would be a shame for him to not get it right this time.

He was careful not to make a sound, except perhaps the rustle of blankets as they fell behind him once he was inside.

[earthborn]

It was mighty restful, here in the dark. The light was dim, flecked here and there by bright portals to the outside. Thane's entrance would normally have brightened the interior, but he'd chosen an entrance either sufficiently baffled by cross-turns and sheet-flaps or he was just that good.

Shepard frowned and sat up; she couldn't put her finger on it, but... Ah, it was probably nothing.