redshiftlogs | Cho's open log for October (and September, if desired)

Entry tags:

Cho's open log for October (and September, if desired)

WHO: Cho, with a few starters for specific people. Also open prompts for anyone else.
WHAT: meal prep/serving/clean-up, walking various random animals through the city, morning five mile runs, reflection on just how flipping weird life is now, and misc.
WHERE: all over, really
WHEN: I'm fine backdating anything into the month of September, as I kind of vanished, and also doing anything through October. Basically, it's a two month spanning open log.

NOTES: I can't stand writing in action spam (takes my head right out of the writing), but I don't mind reading it. (Just please don't use tiny text for your brackets.) So if you only write brackets, and don't mind our styles not matching, you can write brackets and I'll write prose and we can still have some awesome CR.

A - mess hall kitchen
Being a cafeteria cook on an alien planet had never been any part of her ten year plan, but life has a funny way of turning tables on you. Cho has had the rug pulled out from under her often enough to know that the only way to survive it is to adapt. In that regard, her family has done her a huge favour with their neglect and disregard. She knows how to adapt. It's not always easy, mind you, but she can do it.

Making food for her fellow displaced refugees, it gives her a very concrete and tangible purpose. People are hungry, she feeds them. It's simple. It's easy. It's also yielding far more immediate and gratifying results than her work in the fish hatchery and bio-lad with Annie and Finnick, which is incredibly slow going, getting the place even functional.

This work is also putting her in the path of new people. Even if it's only to greet them in the mornings and evenings and ask them which of the hot food selections they'd like. She's learning to put names to faces, and feeling accomplished and appreciated, and it's wonderful. Doubly so when someone offers their time to hep her out, and triply so when they don't just want to clean and chop and fetch and carry, but are interested in learning. She loves teaching. She misses it. And while cooking is a far cry from biology, it's still some form of wisdom that she can impart.

[[OOC: If you want to assume that your character and Cho have seen each other enough to know names and bare basics about one another, feel free. If you would like to assume that they've already been helping her with meal prep and stuff, also feel free to do that. Or have them meet for the first time. Whatever works.]]

B - walkways - exercising animals or running (mornings only)
Cho's various trips to the upper levels while the power was out and her subsequent experiments have not netted her much useful information. What she has ended up with is a menagerie of various random animals who have all become far too comfortable with the idea of being brought their food and kept safe from predators for her to ever feel anything but guilty about releasing them back into the upper levels.

So they are her responsibility now, and while some of them are perfectly content to just stay in their little makeshift enclosures, some of them get fed up with her room, and want space. Which she provides in the form of walks. She really wishes that she had a dog. It would at least be something vaguely normal. Instead, she can be found at random hours of the day with varying combinations of cat, hedgehogs, sugar glider, chinchilla, lizard, and quite a few random bits of fur and fluff that don't quite match up with anything she's used to. High energy, though, hence the excursions at random times of the day, when they seem particularly restless.

---

The animals are not the only ones that need exercising. This place wears and grates and it ends up driving Cho kind of nuts sometimes. She's made a promise to not wander off without a buddy, but that doesn't mean she can't go anywhere.

So, sometimes, there are on animals with her while she goes wandering around the walkways on the safe levels. Instead, it's just her and her earphones, her feet eating up the miles as she hurtles herself through the concrete maze that's becoming depressingly familiar. While she might prefer to work out her excess energy someplace a little more private, she won't break her word, and so her morning runs end up taking her back and forth along the residential walkway, as she racks up the miles by retracing her footsteps over and over again in front of the common areas. At least, this early in the morning, it's fairly deserted.

Of course, if she does ever come across someone doing the same thing, well, they would qualify as not going anywhere alone, and would open up a lot of the rest of Anchor as an option for her workouts.

C - spa
It's not a patch on the ocean, but having a functional and clean large body of water to swim in is still doing wonders for Cho's sense of well-being. Not to mention, getting her hair properly cleaned, and the occasional mani-pedi when she allows herself that much time. She favors the area that looks like a Japanese hot spring, doing a lot of floating silently in the large communal area, her hair fanning out around her, floating on the surface of the water like an oil slick. it almost feels like being home, which usually ends up with a tight prickling in her chest and a lump in her throat, but she fights through that. It's good to miss something. It's far better than having nothing you care about.

Most of the time, she's silent, and anyone else arriving might not notice her for a while. Especially if she's tucked herself away in some corner, sitting in water that's shallow enough for it, but deep enough to leave only her nose and above out of the water. She can definitely see the appeal of this place for fun and relaxation, but most of the time, she's either steaming herself in slightly too hot water for homesickness, or swimming laps with the setting as cold as it will go... not that lukewarm is particularly cold.

D - observation deck
The more random detritus from random worlds that shows up to populate the landscape, the more Cho finds herself inexplicably drawn to the observation decks that look out over the desert. She doesn't have a desire to go and see most of it up close, and not just because she'd be on her own in a dangerous place, but viewing it from this distance is strangely compelling.

So she does, settling herself on a bench, or on the floor with her back leaning against a bench, almost always with the animal carrier containing a cat and a giant caterpillar. Sometimes she lets them out to wander, though the most the caterpillar ever seems to do is hang from the edge of her seat, viewing the world from his strange upside down vantage point.

! WILDCARD

Wandering around in general, hanging out in her room, any other location or activity that you're interested in that I haven't talked about. Feel free to either come poke me to plan something, or to just go for it here and we'll make it work on the fly.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

The truth is, it's not always the same, when he uses his powers. Sometimes, it's hardly enough to make him adjust his footing, after. Sometimes, it is like this, leaves him stunned and disoriented for a good minute or so. The only common thread he'd been able to notice was whether he had time to prepare, how braced he was when he opened the portal. This time, he had had to do it so fast, and so it takes some moments before he can move, the lingering pain is so intense.

As soon as he can, though, he jerks away from Cho, stumbling and reeling, but finding his balance. All that stuff he'd been trying to practice, to teach himself not to think of his powers as disgusting, flies right out the window. Ben's breaths are ragged and loud and panicky as he grabs more of those totes and tries to wipe the rest of the blood off him, much more roughly than Cho had. For just a few seconds it is like he's a kid again, drenched head to foot in blood, smelling it all over himself, feeling it run down the back of his shirt, tasting it in his mouth. But none of it had gotten into his mouth or eyes, today, and there are no injuries.

He gasps, with great effort, "I'm okay."

Then he turns, looks at Cho, and she is bloody, too. It is spattered in her hair and on her face and Ben flinches, seeing her like that. Urgently, he asks, "Are you hurt?"

When Ben pulls himself together enough to yank himself away from her, Cho lets him go. He’s upset, and she doesn’t know if she’s the cause, but she certainly doesn’t want to make it worse. Maybe she grabbed him too hard? Or in the wrong spot? Maybe she hurt him. She has no clue. So she lets him stumble away, and when she follows it’s very slowly, with her hands held up to show that she’s not reaching for him.

She shakes her head, glancing down at herself, and then moves to wipe away some of the mess. “No. I’m fine. I mean, I banged my shin when I slipped on the-- the them.” A quick look at the gore still all over the floor. Nope. Not gonna look at any of that. Specifically that part that is definitely an ear. “They didn’t get me, though. You were great. None of this is mine. You saved us.” They’re safe. He kept them safe. That’s the most important part. “Should I find you some water?” Does he want a minute alone? She could probably stay in the ten foot bubble and still find a water bottle. It’s Whole Foods, after all. Can’t swing a cat without hitting a five dollar bottle of water. Or does he want to keep her close enough to see?

As soon as Cho reassures him that she's not injured, any more than a bruise or two, Ben lets out a shaky sigh of relief, and covers his face in his hands. There are still little patches of damp on his skin from the blood, and there's so much of it in his hair, he can feel it. But he works on wrangling that awful, yawning panic inside him. On compressing it down and pushing it away, at least until they're somewhere safe, at least until he's alone.

Cho's continued concern is what helps ground him the most, in the end. When she offers to get him water he gives a shake of his head, dropping his hands and meeting her gaze.

"No, please - I promise, I'm fine. Trust me." Then, a little stilted, but what's the point of lying now? "When... I have to use my powers really suddenly like that, it can knock me off balance for a couple seconds, but I'm totally fine now."

He looks around them at the devastation. There are zombie bits all over the floor, and gore spattered up the items on the shelves and some of it on the ceiling. Ben's stomach twists, and he has to fight back a wave of nausea. You'd think he would be used to it, by now. But it somehow manages to stay awful, every time.

"We should get out of here. The- sound might bring more of them."

It had been loud, he thinks. The whole thing feels fragmented but he remembers Cho making terrified sounds, maybe saying his name, and the clatter of the display falling, and of course, it is a loud thing, when a zombie is bashed to death against a floor. If any other zombies are within hearing range, they're probably lurching their way over.

Edited 2019-10-04 00:54 (UTC)

Cho's mouth opens and closes a few times in her search for the right words. The question is not one of trust, it's one of concern, and Cho is deeply concerned about Ben. She's worried that he's pushing himself, because that was-- that wasn't intense. That was whatever level is about sixteen steps beyond intense. Cho has seen magic, shocking enough in its own right, but she's never seen anything like that. It was amazing, and terrifying, and inspired a fair amount of awe and curiosity. So much curiosity. The questions are screaming in her mind, fighting to reach her mouth, push past her lips. She swallows them down.

"Are you sure you're all right? I trust you, but that was-- unbelievable. You looked like someone cut your strings when it was over, and you're still so pale." Underneath all the-- right. Focus. "There's still radiation outside. We need to find something to tape up your... suit." Her hands have automatically moved to wipe away the mess there, look for the tear. Which is not present. In the slightest. Aside from being fouled with the decaying mess of the walking dead, Ben's suit is in perfect condition. "How...?"

"I'm sure."

The words are automatic, distracted, as Ben looks for signs of a new wave of attackers. They should be leaving now and Cho just keeps asking questions, keeps worrying over him. Shouldn't she be doing the opposite, running as fast as she can, in absolute horror? How could she bear to be near him, much less wipe the blood from him the way she'd done moments before.

His confident reassurance that he's fine is a little undermined by how badly his hands are shaking as he moves to reattach the helmet of his suit, leaving streaks of blood from his fingers even as he gets it fastened. Even as Cho is looking for the damage to his suit's main body, he is reaching over to help her pull on her own helmet, fastening it for her and only realizing a moment late what she's even doing, what she's concerned about.

"It's not torn. It's - there's a radius, about four inches out from the portal, they don't interact with the matter in our world. That's the only reason I've still got a stomach."

You know, 'cause that's going to answer everything.

But before she can ask anything else, Ben is taking her hand, clutching it in his and tugging her towards the exit, back towards the Anchor.

"We gotta go when I say go, remember, that was the- the deal. We can talk more inside."

He's sure he has explanations to give, that Cho is going to get over her shock and all that kindness will slip away, replaced by loathing or fear or both. Ben wants to make sure he's got her somewhere safe before she inevitably recoils from him. So he keeps it together, staying focused on the mission, until they're out of the Whole Foods, crossing that short gap, until they're inside the Anchor itself, in the small room that leads to the decontamination zone. There are hooks for the used suits, ready to pull them away to be washed free of radiation (and in this case, gore) and processed.

Ben makes it there, waits until the door closes, and then lets go of Cho's hand.

"Okay. Okay - we're safe, now."

Ben is right. That was the deal. He says they need to go, and Cho doesn't protest, just follows his lead. She promised, and she keeps her word. So she clams up, and follows his lead.

She's silent and obedient until they get into the room, until they are safe. She shucks her suit quickly, before she even deposits her gym bag full of shopping to be run through the decontamination process. Comfort levels aside, it's covered in zombie goop, and it's icky, and does not smell great. She also strips off her hoodie, which is gore spattered where zombie goop got down near the neck of her radiation suit. Maybe the decontamination process will keep it from staining? If it doesn't, well... small price. Much of the fabric is still clean, and she uses it to wipe her face off more thoroughly. There's nothing for her hair but a proper wash, but the soft absorbent material cleans off her skin easily. Then she takes a step toward Ben, still no fear on her face, and begins to attempt to clean him up a little more, as well.

Her shock is gone, and there is no revulsion sweeping in. "I've never seen anything like that. You said... portal? They're not inside of you? How much do you weigh? How do you access them. Where do they exist when they aren't... out?" The questions come as slowly as she's able to make them, but it's clear they are just the tip of an iceberg. Her eyes are shining with curiosity, and she is holding back a flood.

The flood of questions isn't really a surprise, to Ben. Of course she wants to understand. She isn't some random, invasive person, either. She'd just seen something awful, been scared half to death. He owes her an explanation.

It's just... hard. Talking about himself.

He doesn't strip down as quickly as Cho, moving with a resigned and grim determination. The feeling of blood drying on his scalp isn't a great one, but it's not making him panic any longer. He gets himself out of his radiation suit and then fishes in his bag for something Klaus had asked for - organic makeup remover wipes. Sorry, Klaus, but Ben is cracking those open, offering one to Cho before using one on himself, doing his best to get as much of the blood off now as he can.

As he does, he answers her the best he can.

"I can access them because I've practiced. A lot. So that I can control the portal. Open it, and close it, when I need. Direct them and control them, a little. They aren't inside me, exactly, although I can... feel them. They live in another dimension, and I can be a doorway to it. I don't know how. I was born with powers, the same as my other siblings. They can do different stuff, but none of us know why. We just can."

One of those questions had stood out, though and he blinks, wiping some blood from behind his ear as he asks:

"How come you asked how much I weigh?"

Cho accepts the wipe gratefully, using every single bit of it on both sides to clean not only the blood and gore, but also all the makeup from her face and her hairline, and then she goes as far down her neck as she can before it's entirely soiled. Which makes Ben the first person in Anchor to see her without even the tiniest bit of makeup on her face. It's possible that he didn't even know what to look for, to know that she's been wearing makeup every time he's seen her. Of course, having literally shadowed Klaus for so many years, he may be able to tell. It's notable mostly because, contrary to what one might assume, she doesn't have a pressing need to wear a full face of makeup every day, and a scaled back routine when working out or swimming. She has no large blemishes one might want to cover up, no issues with her features that require contouring or correction. She looks a bit less defined, of course, but essentially the same.

She has more questions that she wants to ask, but his first. Fair is fair. She drops the makeup wipe into processing, fairly confident that it won't be coming back to her. Not that it matters.

"Well... It happened quickly, but... assuming scaled up cephalopod musculature, with possibly added fluid bladders for rigidity outside of a liquid environment, or perhaps even cartilage, and the increased muscle density to support the added volume?" She clears her throat, and her words come more quickly and confidently. "Even operating on the most efficient possible anatomical framework, that must have been at least five hundred pounds of limbs. You certainly don't move like you weigh six hundred... sixty? Pounds?" Her brow wrinkles, and she bites her lip. "I'm not great at guessing weights for people. But you don't move like you carry that weight, though... you can feel it?" That's interesting. She notes that, files it away for later. "Evolution tells us that the chances of any animal's anatomical structure developing with no waste or inefficiencies at all is highly unlikely, so it could conceivably be seven hundred pounds. Easily. Given the discrepancy, one would think that every time a limb makes contact with a solid object, you would be flung around, being the lesser of the masses involved by quite a large margin. But you aren't. I just... wondered. How. It worked..." She loses steam quickly, in a stuttering awkward fumble.

Ben is too concerned with getting as much blood as he can out of his ear to think very much about seeing Cho makeupless; if he were thinking a little more clearly he might recognize that as an act of trust on her part, but right now he is, to say the least, a little frazzled and distracted.

Her interest in the anatomical aspect makes sense. She is a scientist - that had been clear from their first meeting. Animals of all kinds interest her. And now, Ben thinks, he's a more interesting animal than he was before. Nausea roils in his guts, but he tells himself it's because of all that adrenaline still running through his system. He's fine with Cho asking questions. It's no big deal.

So he keeps his voice neutral, though he's not looking at her as he clarifies

"Oh. That's not really what I meant, when I said I can feel them. Sometimes there's a feeling of... pressure? Against the portal. But mostly I meant. Um. I can feel their... mood. Anger or - hunger. Stuff like that."

The truth is, he can't really report much on his sensations while using his powers. The pain is so intense he isn't really aware of the rest of his body, or his surroundings. It drowns everything out. Everything is pain and pain and pain, and underneath, desperately trying to urge the creatures to go after the right targets, not to hurt anyone he loves or any innocent bystanders.

Shoulders hunching a little, Ben continues talking, but tiny signs of him growing upset are starting to show even through the

"I don't know. I've - used my powers in fights a lot, and I don't get thrown around. I don't know how. Maybe the portal itself cancels it out. The same way my clothes don't get ripped."

It's only ever his body that feels like it's being ripped in two. Ben chews at his lower lip. Maybe if he makes it clear how alien they are, Cho will lose interest. Not that there is anything wrong with her being interested. He is so totally completely fine obviously.

"And they're not cephalopods, exactly. I mean, you're not the first person to make the comparison but they're from entirely a different dimension. We can't assume things based on how biology works on Earth. Besides, I've seen the place they live, I think, and it's not underwater."

Cho doesn't have the time to feel jittery about being exposed, because Ben just keeps on dropping all this fascinating information like it's nothing, and she gets swept up in it. Besides, he's not looking at her. Maybe he hasn't noticed. It pushes that feeling of discomfort at letting anyone see her in a less than perfect state, the disappointment she knows her family would be feeling at her slip, to the back of her mind where she doesn't have to contend with it.

"You have an emotional link? An actual empathetic link? That's amazing. How have you seen their world? Are you able to see what they see? They're not built intelligently for--" Cho is suddenly smacked with the perfect recall of a series of articles she read about deep space exploration in a scientific journal, and her enthusiasm bursts out of her in a rush. "Is it space?" It had been only theory for the longest time, but the science made sense. "Do they live in space? In the actual vacuum, I mean? If their body has adapted to move through a single atmosphere of pressure in a gravity free environment with a resistance to the cold, that means they have the potential for practically limitless--" Cho runs out of air mid-sentence and the brief little record skip of her realization that she has to breathe also flicks the awareness of Ben's discomfort. "I'm sorry." Was the makeup wipe a subtle hint that getting clean was what he wanted? She's horrible at subtle hints.

Maybe he's trying to be a gentleman and waiting for her to go first? Of course he'd want to get clean after what happened. "You must be so uncomfortable." Cho's not exactly feeling fresh and perfect, but it's always been easy for her to set aside physical discomfort when she gets on a roll. "Why don't you go first? This takes a while." She waves a free hand at her hair. "I'll come through in... fifteen minutes?"

Or if she hears a body hit the tile. She's still concerned. Can't just shut that off.

Ben is, in fact, very uncomfortable. It's not for the reason that Cho means, he suspects, but it's easier to just pretend that what's really bothering him is the blood in his hair and not being asked questions like this. He is glad, really, that she's not scared of him. Maybe this is her way of dealing with the fear, or maybe her scientific impulses are just stronger than her sense of self-preservation.

He gives a small nod, shuffling towards the door to the decontamination showers. He pauses, though, on his way in, hand on the door. Might as well answer her before he goes in, so he doesn't spend the whole time inside weighing how he ought to say it. He knows he'll just dwell on something else unpleasant, but still...

"I said I think I've seen it. I'm not completely sure. I get these dreams sometimes. So I can't be sure if it's a vacuum. I know it's dark. Completely dark. And - different. Just completely unlike... here. It's too hard to put into words."

And with that he walks silently through the door, and into the showers. He keeps in mind what Cho had said about fifteen minutes, cleans himself thoroughly in that time, as if he could scrub everything bad - physical and not - off him. Then he walks out the other side, reclaims his decontaminated clothes and the bag with all the supplies he'd gotten, and he waits in the next room.

Sounds alien to her. Could potentially be a vacuum. The total absence of light. She wants to ask him if it's cold, if he feels weightless, if he can sense the sensation of needing to breathe, but first she needs to let him get clean.

She waits exactly fifteen minutes before going into the shower room. She does so with her eyes closed, though, counting on her memory to keep her from running into anything. She calls out for Ben, and only after receiving no answer twice, does she open her eyes to the empty room.

Cho doesn't expect that Ben is waiting for her. Cho rarely expects that anyone is waiting for her. So she takes the time to wash her hair twice, stands under the spray until the water runs crystal clear. It takes a while. She doesn't mind. It's a pleasant surprise that all of her clothes are waiting for her on the other side. Even the makeup wipe, which is kind of hilarious, though it's razor thin and falls apart in her hands the moment she tries to pick it up. Removing all the contaminated material basically removed the whole wipe. It's kind of funny. Not funny enough to try and take it with her, though. She gets dressed and puts on some minimal makeup, but leaves her damp hair down to air dry. She walks into the next room with her lipstick still in her hand, so familiar with it that she doesn't need a mirror in order to apply it.

Ben sees her walking in and stands up from where he'd clearly been sitting, waiting for her. She's putting on lipstick, and her surprise at seeing him is clear. He can't remember precisely - the panic had faded in the shower under the spray of water and left everything in a kind of light haze - but he guesses he wasn't too clear that he would wait on the other side.

As explanation, before she can say anything, he offers:

"I said I'd look after you. I'm gonna make sure you get home safe. All the way there."

The Anchor is less dangerous than the outside, it's true, but that doesn't mean it is entirely safe. Ben is not letting Cho out of his sight until they're near the residential area.

Then, without planning on it, he blurts:

"I know you probably have a ton more questions but- do you think they can wait? I think - I think I need some rest, after all that. But you know where to find me, and... we can talk, later."

He really doesn't want to talk in the future, honestly, but he especially doesn't want to talk, now.

Cho doesn't respond to his insistence that he's going to walk her home, but a bright smile spreads slowly across her face, washing over her features like a sunrise. Surprise and happiness and a touch of amusement. She twists her lipstick down, snaps the cap back on, tucks it into her pocket, all without looking down. "You waited for me." No, she was not expecting that, but she is glad, though it does make her wish she'd done something with her hair.

She's especially glad that he looks a little bit better. Not entirely, but a little bit. Not as pale. She tamps down all the questions that rush back as soon as her surprise fades a little. He wants a reprieve, and she'd have to be a pretty awful friend to put her own curiosity above his comfort. It's been a heck of an afternoon. So, instead, she files them all away for later. "I feel like I should be the one walking you back."

Ben shakes his head, getting to his feet. He picks up his bag before walking through the door with her, back into this strange place they both call home now.

"Honestly, I'm fine. I've had a lot worse."

He seems like he means it, too, that it's not an empty boast. But fortunately, she doesn't ask what that means, and the two of them make their way back to the safer, more familiar parts of the Anchor. When Ben says goodbye to Cho, leaving her at her room, he is glad, she made it back safe. Even if that meant using his powers... it was worth it.

They see each other from time to time after that, just in passing, never really at a moment when they would get a chance to talk. But Ben isn't all that surprised when he gets a message from Cho asking if he'd eaten that day. Ben knows Cho is one of the ones who prepares meals most consistently for the communal dining hall, so maybe she noticed him absent that morning, even though he's usually very regular about breakfast. He texts back explaining he'd had breakfast in his room a while back, and she invites him to come to a particular room - he knows the area it must be in from the numbers and floor, but he hasn't been there before.

Ben just assumes she wants to have lunch together. Unexpected, sure, but maybe she just wants a little company? He's happy to provide it. So he says he'll be over and turns up about fifteen minutes later, in that same all-black outfit as ever, knocking on the door before poking his head in.

"Hello, Cho? It's Ben."

The room doesn't exactly look like a cozy place to have lunch together, but... maybe this is where she works?

She's been doing her best to not crowd him. Her solution to that impulse is to throw herself into work. Ben is her friend, and she's fascinated by his situation, but that hasn't taken away any of the other issues she's been dealing with. Food production being high on that list. They've been lucky so far, but there's no guarantee that will last.

When Cho hears Ben's voice, of course it's at a moment when she can't just rush over to the main door and meet him. "In here," she calls, her hands steady as she injects small does of genetic material into the nutrient goo in a series of Petri dishes. The hatchery might not be ready for a full cycle of fish yet, but the moment it is, Cho wants to be ready to go with the ideal species. "Down the hallway, first door on the right."

When Ben finds her, she'll be bent over one table in the middle of a large lab area, intently focused on the task at hand, and with a slight variation on the clothing he normally sees her in. Her scrubs are a little more functional, but no less comfortable than her workout wear, and they follow in the theme of coordinating colours. "you made good time. I'm almost done with this. Just give me a minute."

Labs generally speaking are not Ben's favorite place to be, but he does his best not to listen to that initial, instinctive whisper of unease in the back of his mind. Honestly, when had he let himself get so biased? Peter works in a lab - or, well, R&D is close enough to one. And it's not a bad thing that Cho is a scientist. She's probably doing important work to make this place a bit more livable. Time for him to grow up and get over his baggage already.

With that little self-critical pep talk done, Ben walks down the hall and into the door indicated, spotting Cho at once amidst the equipment under the bright fluorescent lights. She seems like she's doing something extremely delicate that can't be interrupted, so he moves into the room quietly and doesn't interrupt, coming over to a place where she'll be able to see him and then just leaning his hip against a counter and waiting, arms folded. There's no impatience in his body language, though. Ben had spent 14 years as a ghost. He's pretty immune to boredom at this rate, and patience comes easily.

Cho certainly looks like she knows what she's doing, wielding that tool to... do whatever she's doing to those little pools of goop in the glass containers. Ben watches, keen-eyed but silent, until she is done.

Cho is finished when the syringe is empty, and she stands up, stretching out her back and setting the tool aside. "Hi! How are you feeling? You look good."

She carefully transfers the Petri dishes onto two shallow trays, and then opens the door of something that looks a bit like Frankenstein's interpretation of a countertop convection oven and places them inside. When she closes the door, she does so very carefully, and then leans down to peer in through the thick glass door. "Grow up big and strong, little wigglers. We're going to need you." Yes, she talks to her experiments. Always has. She's accepted that particular weirdness in herself.

Now, well and truly finished, she pulls the nitrile gloves off of her hands and retrieves the syringe, taking it apart with quick and efficient movements so she can pop it into the autoclave, which, coincidentally is on the wall close to Ben. "Sorry, transfer incubating fish embryos. They're kind of delicate at this stage."

He smiles in response to her greeting - it's a small, quiet thing, but it suits his face.

"I'm good, yeah, how're you?"

It's interesting, watching her work. Ben doesn't know what she's doing - though judging by the location of the place, maybe something to do with fish? - but it's clear it matters a great deal to her. There's something nice about seeing people who care so much about their professions. And from the sound of it, she's growing something? Fish? Is it possible to artificially grow fish eggs?

His guess is confirmed when she says something about incubating embryos. He feels a little pleased with himself, that he had guessed right (sure there were a lot of context clues, but still).

"Looks like it. But it seems like they're in good hands."

Even with the talk he'd given himself about not being so biased, it's still a bit of a relief when she takes the gloves off and puts away that syringe. Hey, it's a work in progress.

"So - what's up?"

She had been the one to contact him, after all, and he doesn't know if she's got concrete plans for lunch or whatever so he just gently prompts.

"I'm good, too, yeah. I think." She smiles, and shakes her head in a clearing thoughts kind of way, and begins loading the autoclave near Ben with the dismantled syringe, and also a few other pieces from a container on the table. "I mean, I had one nightmare about those... things. I was just as scared as the first time, only in the dream, you weren't there. So it didn't get better, it just... and then I woke up right before they-- you know." She frowns a little, and then takes a big bite of the air while making an exaggerated chomping sound. "Didn't like that. Hoping it won't happen again."

Still, dreams can't hurt you. She'll be just fine. "You said we would talk later, and I didn't really know what later meant, but I figured... now is later? Maybe? I've been going over it in my mind. A lot."

A furrow forms between Ben's dark brows, the half-smile slipping from his face as he grows grave. He hadn't realized Cho was so impacted by what had happened that day. But of course, he should have realized. For a normal person, like her, it must have been terrifying. Maybe even unprecedented, coming that close to dying. Being attacked, being covered in blood. Of course she'd had a nightmare. Of course, it had left her shaken and she needs someone to talk to about it.

He sinks down to sit on something - maybe some boxes, maybe a piece of equipment, maybe a chair. All his attention is focused on Cho, now.

"Sure. Sure, of course, we can talk."

It hadn't been the fun lunch he was expecting but he realizes there are certain obligations. If you go through something intense together, you can't just ghost the other person. He likes Cho. He wants to be here for her, if she's having a rough time.

"Right. Well." Cho pulls another high lab chair over next to Ben and sits herself down, though her feet do not come close to touching the floor. "I was thinking more about how you said you'd thought you'd seen their world. I still think it sounds like it might possibly be space. Do you remember it feeling cold at all? Or did you feel a pull of gravity? When you feel what they feel, do you have any sense of needing to breathe? I was thinking, it hurts you so much to let them through, but it doesn't actually do anything to your body, right? Is it at all possible that the pain you're feeling is theirs? If you can feel their other emotions. Maybe they aren't adapted to our environment, and if that's the case, and it was possible to... I don't know, to do something about that. I mean, it's all just theories now, isn't it? But if you haven't eaten in at least six hours, it would be an ideal time to get a blood draw, and maybe that would tell us something? You're not afraid of needles, are you?"

For the second time in just a few minutes, Ben is caught off guard. He had expected the thing Cho wanted to talk about was her own feelings, her fear after what they'd gone through, how she is coping with it now. He'd already started arranging his thoughts for that, how he would reassure her, what he could offer in terms of advice or practical help to make things easier.

But he'd been wrong. The thing she wants to talk about is his powers. And... yes, that makes sense. It was what they'd been discussing, when he told her they should talk later. He just hadn't really expected her curiosity to continue. He'd somehow foolishly dismissed it as an immediate reaction to the panic, something that would fade and not return.

His eyes widen slightly during the barrage of questions, but he tells himself that at least this is better than her asking him then when he was exhausted and bloody and caught off guard. She's curious, and he probably owes her some answers. Especially if that curiosity has been plaguing her ever since. Perhaps this is the best way to help her cope.

Still it's hard to keep up. He stays completely quiet, waiting for her to finish. But as she keeps going, her words shift just from questions to something else. The reason she'd asked if he had breakfast. She wants to draw some of his blood. To... examine something about it. Test it or... whatever.

There's a sudden coldness in his limbs, a numb sort of tingling that had risen up out of nowhere. Should he have predicted this? What is the right thing to do? Talking to Cho is one thing, but her drawing his blood indicates a fascination with his powers that goes beyond just wanting to have a conversation. She wants to do tests. She wants to do science. She wants to figure it out.

Ben is quiet for a moment too long, swallowing. Then, to buy himself time, he starts to at the very least answer her questions.

"The thing is - the things is, I'm not sure if that's... their world. They're- dreams. Maybe they're just... nightmares, and I'm only imagining they are different. It's hard to... remember details like whether it was cold or whether there was gravity. They slip away once I wake up."

He sits back, crossing his arms. Tries to make the gesture look casual. It's nothing wrong that Cho's doing, after all. In a way he knows he should probably find her curiosity flattering. But he holds those arms tightly across his chest, trying hard to ignore the little rustlings of panic in his guts. That's uncalled for. If he refuses to acknowledge those bad feelings they're not happening - that's the rule.

"I don't know if it's not doing anything to my body or if the something it's doing is just - repaired once I close the portal. When I feel their emotions it's sort of... muted. Underneath. The pain, um." A hard swallow, then, and he looks away from Cho's curious face. "The pain definitely... isn't."

Ben knows he can't really stall any longer. He could say he was afraid of needles and buy himself time. But that wouldn't change her desire to investigate. And she seems so interested. What would it really hurt? Sure, he's uncomfortable with it. Sure, he wanted to run out the door the minute she said 'blood draw'. But Ben has had a lifetime's training ignoring and invalidating his own discomfort. He now associates ignoring those things with doing what's right so strongly that actually saying no is... well. Pretty unimaginable to him.

He doesn't speak, just stands up and takes off his leather jacket, folding it over his arm and then draping it over the back of the chair. He sits back down again, and pushes up the sleeve of his black hoodie. It's the arm with the umbrella tattoo by his wrist.

This is all fine. It's easy. It's no big deal. He holds out his bare arm to her, offering for her to go ahead.

Cho nods thoughtfully through his explanations, letting him get all his thoughts in a row. He has her full and undivided attention. When he finishes talking, she’s in the process of aligning her own thoughts, and then he stands and begins to remove his jacket. Oh, goodie, blood. Which is an extremely biologist thought to have.

While Ben is peeling off his jacket, she retrieves and pulls on another pair of gloves. She does so with the same care she applies to the rest of her life, not letting the material pull too thin in any area in the process. She had a colleague at home who took perverse pleasure in snapping his gloves loudly onto his hands, seeming positively gleeful if he could make someone jump in the process. Cho has never particularly liked that approach. By the time he’s finished removing his clothing and rolling up his sleeve, she’s ready, with the smallest bore needle that will still be effective for a blood draw, and four empty vials to fit into the vacuum blood collection needle.

When Ben offers his arm, she takes it in careful hands. Elastic bands are useful, and they speed things up, but they’re also uncomfortable, and Cho likes to avoid using them if she can. Instead, she applies pressure with one of her thumbs to make his vein bulge enough that she’ll be able to get it with one stick. He seems… nervous? He must not like needles after all, and yet he's trusting her. As much as she hates the idea of causing him distress, that makes her feel good. She starts talking. "Human bodies are so amazing. Did you know that the components of your skin that allow you to feel pain and the ones that allow you to feel pressure are not actually the same thing? Ruffini’s endings and Pacinian corpuscles register pressure, and they’re extremely common, but there is a pretty big gap between the little clusters of free nerve endings that register pain. Relatively speaking, of course. So if you get, say, a paper cut, you’re definitely going to run over one. But for something like a needle, it’s actually possible to slip it in between the nerve endings so it doesn’t register pain." She’s been very gently applying pressure with the tip of the needle along his vein as she speaks, not breaking skin, just testing, and after one more poke, she sees the reaction she’s looking for. "So if you know how to see the micro-muscular response for pain, and you find a spot where it doesn’t register…"

Now she presses the needle into his flesh and into the vein, and as if by magic, though he should be able to feel the pressure, it shouldn’t actually hurt at all. It kind of is magic, as far as Cho is concerned. The magic of the nervous system. "Ruffini’s endings are also receptors for heat, but not for cold. Isn’t that interesting?" One vial has filled with blood, and she swaps it carefully for another, with practiced movements and steady hands, doing absolutely everything within her power to not jostle the needle at all and accidentally catch one of those free nerve endings she was talking about.

It's all... familiar. Certain details are different - the color of the gloves, the smell of the lab itself, the person holding his elbow and poking at his arm to get a vein visible. Ben tells himself that this is a common enough experience for normal people. People go to doctors, they get their blood drawn. Most people wouldn't think twice about it.

In some ways it is a relief that Cho keeps up a steady stream of talk, because it means that Ben himself doesn't have to speak - he doesn't trust his own voice right now. The break from questions is good, and the things she's talking about are interesting, actually. Of course, with his head in the place that it's in right now, he's mostly wondering whether Grace had been programmed with the knowledge Cho is spouting. She never tried to hurt, when she was putting the needle in. She was always sweet-faced and steady-handed. But it hadn't been a whole process like this. Maybe Reginald hadn't programmed her with that because it would take too much time...

Ben swallows, watching as the vials fill with blood. Probably, Cho will be able to tell from the speed of it, or just from holding his arm, that his pulse is going quite fast, now. But he's keeping all other signs of unease tucked away. They never helped, and he'd learned from a very young age that if he was perfectly still, perfectly quiet, perfectly well-behaved even when his body was screaming at him in distress, that he would get a word of praise or two. Not from Reginald, of course. The best Ben could hope for from him was a lack of irritation.

But that hadn't ever stopped him from hoping it would happen. From thinking and imagining and convincing himself that his father appreciated how well he could cooperate when he put his mind to it.

He puts in a huge amount of effort, to get his dry voice to sound neutral when he says, quietly:

"Sorry... my answers are so vague. About the dreams."

Ben wants Cho to know that he's not being deliberately uncooperative. It's important that she knows that.

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