redshiftlogs | to protect and serve

Entry tags:

to protect and serve

WHO: Detective ~~Eudora~~ Patch
WHAT: the face-to-face option for her network post, looking for clothes and ammo and other necessities, learning her environment by hitting the ~~streets~~ walkways
WHEN: whole month of July for most of it, though an immediate response to her network post would happen on the 15th, and a belated response can happen any time after that
WHERE: room 020, but also kind of everywhere?
WARNINGS: anything in response to her network post may contain detailed and blunt discussions of violence/death/dying - anything at all with her runs a small risk of her at least thinking about her own death. if this will upset you, please tell me so before we begin so that i can avoid it.

NOTES: I don't like brackets/action-spam. It's not natural for me to write that way, and I much prefer prose. I can read it just fine (but please don't make your bracket text super tiny) and don't mind if styles don't match. So you're welcome to tag me in action-spam, but just be prepared for my responses to come back in prose.

option A
After Patch makes her post to the network, she feels an odd moment of disconnect. What if no one responds? What if she is the only one feeling overwhelmed and out of her depth? What if she just aired her trauma, and she's the only one going through it?

Well, if she did, then she did. Can't change it, and wouldn't even if she could. Because she might not be alone. It might help someone else. Which makes it worth it.

She goes to the door of her room, unlocks it, opens it. It closes again on its own. Right. She opens it again, waits for it to try and close, and sticks her hand in the way. She's prepared to yank it back quickly, lest she lose some fingers, but the door halts its progress, presumably in response to whatever is blocking it. That'll work. She comes up with a little squat metal container that used to hold something, but now is only home to a vaguely musty smell. With that placed along the recessed metal track, it leaves the door to room 020 open about a foot, unable to lock, and accessible to anyone walking past.

option B
She doesn't have much. The clothes on her back, main weapon, ankle weapon, and a few extra clips of ammunition. Plus the junk from her pockets. Never thought she'd see the day when taking stock of her possessions would include a mental tally of 'eight mint lifesavers' but the universe seems determined to keep tossing up hurdles in her path. Well, bring it on. High school track about to pay off in a big way. Metaphorically. She checks her weapons, tightens her ponytail, and runs her fingers over the gentle ridges and valleys of her badge where it's resting under her shirt, like a talisman. Time to go learn her new neighbourhood.

option C
Also time to go shopping. If you can call it that. Some extra clothing would be a good start. Boots, jeans, and jacket she can make do. But a spare shirt, a change of underwear, and something to sleep in, that would be nice. Toothbrush, hair brush, maybe a book. Anything to keep her occupied.

option !
Wildcard! You know how this works. Come at me, bro! :3

15 July
afternoon - Ben comes to talk about how he knows Patch - room 020
also afternoon - Drake stops by for more cheery death talk - room 020
late evening - Cole waits until everyone else has come and gone - room 020

16 July
afternoon - finding out just what a tiny thing Peter is - R & D

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

He's a child. He's a child, taken to this horrible place, stuck with the lot of them and no immediate hope of getting home. More than that, he's a child who was drawn to her post about death. He's a child who described his job, his job, as being in law enforcement, Special Forces. He's not even old enough to buy a lottery ticket.

She wants to hug him. It's a sudden and almost vicious instinct, ripping through her, crippling, this need to wrap her arms around him and tell him that it'll be all right, even if she doesn't know how to make it all right. She's just standing there, shaking her head. She needs to stop that.

"You. You said your aunt wasn't happy with your job. Your Special Forces job?" Everything that's coming out of her mouth just feels wrong. This should not be the world anyone lives in. "What does that-- what... happened to you, Peter?"

Hey he could just be one of those creepy morbid kids that's into like weird occult shit and death and whatever!

He's not. He's totally not one of those kids, and right now he's a little uncomfortable if only because he's not used to people fussing over him like this. The last thing he'd wanted to do was make a complete stranger worried about him. Good job Peter, you've already beefed it and you didn't even have to try.

It's fine, he's got this. He takes a deep breath and holds his hands up in that everything is totally fiiiiiine sort of way.

"Okay. It's a long story? I'll try to, um, condense it, I guess? So, where I'm from, there's this... it's basically kind of a special forces group, the Avengers. A lot of the members have like, powers, abilities, just straight up super human stuff, right? They handle things that your average law enforcement can't. Like say, alien invasions. So, I have some ah, pretty weird abilities, so I was recruited. Turned it down for a while, kinda ended up getting drug into it anyway. It's a... whole thing. But yeah, that's uh. That's it."

That's definitely not everything, but he doesn't really know this lady even if she does seem pretty cool. But seriously it's fiiiiine he's fine everything is fine.

He's so young. She can't keep herself from thinking it. Even if he's obviously very smart, the way he was going at that machinery, with something very close to total understanding. Kid's capable as heck, clearly, but he's also a kid. The way he's standing, speaking with his hands, the way his story jumps all over the place, even his use of sentence fragments like punctuation and the way he's looking at her while he tells pieces of it, like he's used to being dismissed.

She's just going to need a second here.

"This group. The Avengers. Is everyone recruited into it as young as you are?" If he's been somewhere else for long enough that he can't even remember how old he is, then he got into this super-human group thing young. Even younger than he is now. Sixteen? Maybe fifteen? Can't drive a car, but expected to protect the world from an alien threat. That's not something any child should be saddled with.

She can't help thinking, in some small corner of her mind, that she hopes he didn't go through anything like what Diego has been through, recruited so young, expected to fulfill a role by someone who never really cared about what it would do to the kids themselves.

"Oh, no. God no, I'm the only one."

He's not sure if that makes this better or worse. Probably better? He doesn't want her to think the Avengers are just a bunch of child soldiers or something, that would just be fucked up.

Man, she is just watching him like a hawk though, isn't she. It feels that way at least, and it's not doing Peter's nerves any favors. He makes an effort to stop being so twitchy, straightening his back and crossing his arms in an attempt to appear all casual. Totally doesn't nail it, but an effort was made.

"Nobody forced me into it, if that's what you're thinking. I wanna make that clear."

It makes it better, and also so much worse.

He's uncomfortable. She's making him more uncomfortable by the second. She needs to stop. She doesn't know how. She can't not feel what she's feeling, but she needs to try. The whole point of her is that she puts people at ease, not that she pulls them right out of whatever comfort they've managed to create for themselves.

"I think that's incredibly courageous." Not to mention deeply irresponsible of every actual adult on that team holy shit. She doesn't say that, though, as that will only make Peter feel worse. She needs to stop making him feel worse. "You know, I thought you were in your twenties, at least. Well, first I thought you were a college student. What were you working on, before I interrupted you?"

Peter's constantly operating at various levels of uncomfortable, this is just another Tuesday for him. He is glad that that part of the conversation seems to be winding down, though. It was starting to get a little awkward. Well, it had been awkward the whole time, but you know.

"Hah, well. Sorry to disappoint?" He tries to sound like he's joking, but he really does mean it. This whole thing had gone south as soon as she realized that he wasn't as old as she thought he was. But anyway, it was totally time for a new topic. He visibly relaxes, brushing his fingers through his hair, getting himself back in the zone. Talking tech, okay, this is way easier to talk about.

"You know those 3D printers? It seems to be similar to one of those, only way more advanced. If I can get one of these working again, I'll be able to just make replacement parts for other things that would otherwise be broken beyond repair."

She does not, in fact, know those 3D printers. Not even a little bit. She can, however, infer from context. The name is very self-explanatory. As is the functionality of making replacement parts for things.

She walks over to the area that he was hovering near before her arrival, and to the machine she assumes is the most likely candidate. It all looks well beyond her scope of experience, but this whole place falls into that category, and she really doesn't have any choice but to slog through.

"So if you fix it, you'll be able to fix other things around here? Maybe we can get some more of those doors open." That would be amazing. "How badly is it broken?"

He is so grateful for this topic change. Not only because the last topic was super uncomfortable, but because he gets to just nerd the fuck out for a minute. He steps aside for her so she can inspect the machine. Or the parts of it he hasn't pulled out yet. It's a bit of a puzzle over here.

"Not so badly that I can't fix it. There are a couple other machines like this one that I can pull parts from if I need to, so I'm actually in pretty good shape when it comes to getting this one up and running."

Patch nods. "And then once you fix it, you can print those parts you used and fix the ones you pulled apart. Then we can increase output." She doesn't know 3D printers, but she understands basic output theory. Half a dozen machines can make more parts than one. "That's good. This is-- really good."

She does remember what his post was about. The face may have completely waylaid her, but part of her mind will always be gathering the background facts. Occupational hazard. "You said you needed help prioritizing things in need of repair. I have some ideas, but also... no offense, but this is a lot of work. More than any one person can do. Lessons are a good idea, but that's just more of a strain on your time. This-- all of this--" She sweeps an arm to encompass the room around them, maybe the entire complex around them. "This is so far beyond my level of understanding. It looks like a science fiction movie. But I can fix a car. Is there anything near that level of difficulty that I could start helping with now?"

Peter just chuckles, crossing his arms and leaning back on a table. Oooh yeah, he knows this is a lot of work, it's one hell of an undertaking. It's part of why he offered to teach other people how to do this stuff in the first place, to take some strain off himself. Getting to that point would be rough, he was sure. Probably a few weeks of getting just a couple hours of sleep a night, but he's young and resilient. He figures he could handle it for a while. If that's what it takes to make sure everyone stays safe, it's a sacrifice he's willing to make. He's definitely not going to turn down help, though. Even Spider-Man needs a break sometimes.

"I've heard that there actually are a few vehicles. There are other things around here that are around that level of complexity, though. Some things are even easier, like just changing filters and stuff."

"Oh yeah?" She perks up a bit at this. No telling if they'll look anything like what she's used to under the hood, but it doesn't hurt to check. "Do you know where they are?" Cause that is absolutely something she can work on, when she has the time. "Filters, though, like air filters? Water filters? That sounds more important. Do we know where the spares are?" Give her a drill or a wrench and turn her loose on those. She can change filters all day long. Assuming, again, that what she's thinking of when she thinks of a filter is somewhat close to what they're dealing with here.

Sounds like there's plenty to do, no matter what. She shrugs out of her jacket, and leaves it hung on a broken piece of machinery with some sort of single moving arm, currently inoperable. "I'll be your first student. Where do we start?" At least this is comfortably in the realm of things that she knows she doesn't know. She's been blindsided by plenty of things that her mind doesn't even have the capacity to process. This is a welcome change.

"I don't know exactly, I heard they're in the garages?"

The vehicles hadn't been Peter's top priority, mmmmostly because he barely knows how to drive anyway. He stole a car once when he was fifteen, but then he kind of died before he had a chance to get his license and there hadn't been any cars in Hadriel to learn in, sooooo. Someone else can fix the vehicles.

"But uh, yeah, water and air filters. Don't know where any spares would be, though. That can go on the community to-do list." With so many people out exploring the place, someone was bound to come across some filters and junk. Unless the robots ate them. The bastards.

He hesitates a bit, glancing over at his pile of 3D printer parts, "Uhh. Hm. I don't exactly have a lesson plan ready to go? So if you have any like, specific things you wanna know, just hit me. Otherwise I guess you can help me with this thing?"

Garages. Makes sense. It also makes it onto her mental list of places she needs to go. Later. Not now.

Along with asking people to keep their eyes peeled for spare air and water filters.

"That's even better," Patch tells him, finally on somewhat familiar footing. "You can figure out your teaching style with me. Everyone has one, and knowing what yours is is important." Another pearl from her father. "So, talk to me about this 3D printer, and I'll hold the light." She's probably never going to be able to build one, and she's all right with that. Maybe she can see if she'd be able to perform minor repairs on one, or operate one once it's fixed. She doesn't have to be as smart a Peter, just smart enough to do something.

Even learning that she's not capable of operating one of these machines could be useful knowledge. Keep her from breaking it, accidentally.

Well shit, she has a really good point. A practice student so he can learn how to teach, that's a great idea. Granted, showing her how to operate the machine will be significantly easier than trying to show her how to fix it, but this is still a pretty good starting point.

"Okay, well. I've always thought that the best way to learn something it to just dive in, soooo. Here we go?"

So, he starts pointing out different parts and explaining their functions, showing her the sort of damage to the parts that he's looking for, how to remove and reattach them. Things like that. It's probably not the most exciting lesson ever, but Peter is very much in the zone, nerding out about technology and how it works.

Patch listens. She follows as best she can. She absorbs everything that makes sense about the machine, but she's also watching Peter, learning about him, and about what he's trying to do, how he's trying to do it. When he finally winds down a little, that's when she speaks. "Ok, first off, wow. I think you might be the smartest person I've ever met who wasn't an actual college professor." Based on this one interaction. He'll probably very quickly eclipse that opinion as she gets to know him better.

"Here's the thing, though. You're way smarter than I am, and you need to keep that in mind. I could only follow... maybe half of that? Some of the things made sense, and some just flew right over my head. Drawing parallels sometimes helps. Like when you compared these little motors here to those vending machines that grab your drink for you, I got that. Try and do more of that. And maybe try to pause a little more to ask if there are questions. I can see how passionate you are about this, and how easy it is for you. That's amazing. That's exactly what we need, being stuck here, but not everyone is going to be on your level. I think most of us won't."

She's trying to be encouraging, and she probably wouldn't criticize a teaching technique under normal circumstances. These aren't normal circumstances, though. No one ever taught him how to teach, and his ability to do so is going to directly impact their chances of survival.

"Like this bit here." She points carefully to the mechanics that feed the raw materials into the heating and extrusion elements. "You started off comparing it to a pasta machine, which is great, cause I have one of those... but then--" She sweeps her hand and widens her eyes. "Lots of very big words I don't know, and I got completely lost. So, can we try going over it again?"

Peter listens to Patch's advice just as closely as she'd listened to his attempt at a lesson, even going so far as to scribble a few of the things she says down in a notebook. He'd never really needed to take notes back in school, his brain was like an information sponge and he almost never forgot anything that he'd learned, but there was more on the line here than just his grades. He knows that he has a tendency to get a little overly excited when he's talking about all this tech junk, keeping some little written reminders for himself might help him chill and focus on teaching properly. Or at least as close to properly as he can get.

"Okay. Less big words, more analogies, keep it simple. Take more question breaks. Uuuh... Okay, yeah. I can do that. Let's take it from the top, I guess."

And take it from the top he does. His second dive into explaining how the machine works isn't perfect, but it goes significantly smoother than his first attempt had. This time takes longer; he spends more time explaining the more complicated parts and functions in simpler terms, and there are a few pauses while he comes up with good comparisons for some things. Whenever he finishes with an explanation, he stops so she can ask for clarifications if she needs them.

He likely has a long way to go before he can say he's good at teaching, but it's progress.

"How was that? I feel like I still got a little wordy."

When Peter pauses for questions, she asks them. They pile up, because this is very complex and quite a bit beyond her level of mechanical skill. Lots of questions. He's better with them now, though. He's relatable, and patient.

"A little too wordy is better than not wordy enough. Especially in a setting like this. Passing on this knowledge is crucial. "So... these canisters have the raw material." She hefts one into her hands, carefully, like it might break. "And it has to be fed in... somewhere over here?" She sweeps one hand over one corner of the machine. It's not exactly right, but it's close. "Which means there's a piece missing here, right? Something to support the canister?"

She's trying, and she's getting there. Very slowly. She's getting there, though, with Peter's help.

Peter is more than happy to answer those questions, and before long he's starting to feel a lot more comfortable with the whole thing. He even manages to stop fidgeting as much. It's a big accomplishment.

"Yeah, it feeds in right over here," He scoots closer to point out the spot the raw material feeds into, "and there is a piece missing, you're absolutely right. I've got it over there on the table. One of the little bits that attaches it to the machine is broken on it, but it's an easy fix."

Patch nods. She thinks she's starting to understand it. "So it feeds into the extruder over here, and these little motors move it along the X, Y, Z planes, and it builds on this--" She moves to tap on the build platform, but it doesn't give. Not even the tiniest bit. That seems odd. She moves her finger underneath the plate, instead, and puts a little pressure. It will move up, but then it falls back down solidly. "It seems like... I might be wrong, but it seems like something is missing here, too?" She crouches down to try and see under the plate, but the angle is wrong, and blocked by the casing. "Maybe some kind of spring or something? To keep tension? Because if this nozzle was a little bit off, and it tapped down too hard on this plate, and there wasn't any give... couldn't it break itself?"

Is she talking out of her ass? She's a little worried that she might be. Nothing like feeling like an absolute moron in front of someone half your age.

Peter, meanwhile, looks pretty impressed. He hadn't even covered that part very thoroughly yet and she was already getting it on her own.

"No, you're absolutely right, that's exactly what's going on here. That's another part I need to fix, is all. I think there's a broken spring down in there, I just need to take this bit apart so I can replace it."

Even if she had been wrong, Peter wouldn't think she was a moron at all. This techie junk can get complicated.

"It's like the shocks on a car. I'm still pretty sure I couldn't build or repair one of these things, but the mechanics don't seem to be too alien. No pun intended." She pauses for a beat, bites her bottom lip. "You know what? No. Screw it. Pun intended. I miss dad jokes." She misses her dad, actually, but she'll take what she can get.

She puts the canister back down on the work table and looks at Peter a little bit expectantly. "So, let's check out these tiny little 3D printer shocks?" She's into this now. It's kind of exciting.

That was a terrible dad joke, but Peter can appreciate a good terrible dad joke. He shakes his head, but he also laughs, so Patch wins. Wins at dad jokes, I guess. And also at getting Peter to feel totally comfortable around her, it's almost like that super awkward meeting earlier hadn't happened. Maybe it was just awkward for Peter, but then everything is awkward for Peter. So. Keep up the good dad jokes, Patch.

"Sure! Lemmie just see what tools we're gonna need, and we can get to work."

After a quick inspection, Peter grabs a couple different sized screw drivers and sets them out on the table. It's super convenient that screws and screw drivers are apparently universal. "Wanna give it a shot? We need to remove the casing first."

Patch grins, feeling genuinely useful in a measurable way. A thing is broken. If they can fix it, it's something to point to and call progress. She can tell which bit is the casing, because it's made of an entirely different material, and also a different colour. Which is just convenient, really. There are seams, and she looks along one until she finds a screw, with the nut on the other side perfectly fitted to the contours of the casing. She grabs a screwdriver that looks like it will fit, and gets to work.

"One naked magic printer, coming up."

Peter stops himself short of making some sort of inappropriate joke. Honestly it was probably just going to be something lame like 'oh baby' which is. Like. Barely a joke and barely inappropriate, but he's a weenie and doesn't want her to think he's some kinda weirdo and just you know what he's going to just stand aside and let her remove that casing. He'll make himself useful by keeping all the screws she removes together or something.

"They coming out okay? I ran into some stripped screws earlier on another piece of equipment that were just a nightmare to unscrew."

Patch is crouched on the other side, getting the screws down near the base. When Peter questions the ease of the task, she pops her head up over the edge to look at him. "You know you just jinxed it, right?" Sure enough, the next screw has been drilled in too tightly, and this one has gone into the base of the unit, not into another piece of the casing. She can't even come at the nut from the other side "See? I blame you." She's smiling, so obviously she's not actually upset, but this is mildly annoying.

She looks around them. "So, do we try to drill it out, or have you seen something we can use to cut a deeper flat-head notch?" He's been here longer than she has, she'll defer to him.

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