ic contact;

[mathematician]

"I can't come to my communicator right now, I'm probably fixing something some idiot messed up, so leave a message and I'll get back to you when I'm done."

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Comments

also an accurate statement!

[totallytrustworthy]

its not gonna kill you or anything right

getting away from your desk or your work or whatevers kept you in this time loop nonsense

[mathematician]

There is a 33% chance leaving this room will result in mental or physical harm.

1/2

[totallytrustworthy]

oh for christs sake when you phrase it like that I hope for physical

[Kidding.]

2/2

[totallytrustworthy]

seriously though if you think its a risk maybe save it for some other day

[mathematician]

...

That was a joke. There is always a minimum of 33% likely chance for physical or mental harm no matter where you are.

[HE WAS TRYING... TO BE FUNNY...

this is why he doesn't tell jokes.]

[totallytrustworthy]

oh my god

[Lowell you're just about as awful as Nate....]

thats it I'm telling the guard not to let you in

[mathematician]

Is

that a joke too?

[BECAUSE HE CAN'T TELL.]

[totallytrustworthy]

1 yes 2 we are so working on your sense of humor once you get here

handwave or play it out?

[mathematician]

[Well. He thought he was being funny.]

Alright.

I'm all for playing it out if you've got the time!

[totallytrustworthy]

[You were, Lowell. You were.]

c u soon m8

all the time in the world for awful npc shenanigans.

[mathematician]

[ooc: here, or a log?]

Action here works!

[totallytrustworthy]

[It's not exactly what she'd expected, and not exactly the best time for it, but it's an opportunity to patch up the bridges they'd-- you know, sort of torched with gasoline. And Magic. And shitty packets of tasteless food.

Weeks prior, she wanted nothing to do with them. Now...now it's different. Inexplicably and probably inappropriately (hi yes hello, kidnapper here hoping we can be mates) but there you have it: that's exactly where she stands. Waiting at nearly five in the morning.]

[mathematician]

[Good timing or no, Lowell's burned bridge is already partially through reconstruction. He was angry at first, definitely. The work interruption alone put them all back by a week.

But actually getting along with Chloe and Charlie was not something he thought would ever happen. He didn't think he would possibly think of a Transport as a friend.

Definitely some classic Stockholm happening here, he knows. He also doesn't care, as he heads over to the West Wing rooms, with a small bag. It's mostly his dinner/breakfast. Food times kind of blur together when you're working all the time and there's no sun to tell you when it's day or night. Maybe there's something in there for Chloe, too.

He gets past the guard, and finds Chloe's room soon enough. A knock soon follows.]

Hello?

[totallytrustworthy]

Morning, love. [Not much to the meeting rooms, but they've got a table at least, and (instead of nearly every other time she's done this carefully monitored song and dance) Chloe moves to sit down; a bit of casual posturing that's only happened once before with a friend on the outside that she's known for too many years to count at this point.]

Surprised you're not falling asleep. [Ragged as she looks, it's a surprise that she isn't either.]

[mathematician]

Ah... Morning.

[Already, things hit off with a bang of awkward, as Lowell steps into the room.]

I should be. But I think Trish would actually lock me in med bay if I didn't eat at least twice a day.

[He's certainly tired enough to be falling asleep right there and then. But being exhausted is kind of how he's felt for weeks, so it's barely noticeable at this point. It's only when he actually does settle down that he feels the full force of 'you haven't slept in 48 hours, what are you doing.' Right now though? Salad for breakfast. Which he pulls out the container holding said salad from his bag and starts picking at. Don't judge.]

Do you like pudding?

[This is relevent, really.]

[totallytrustworthy]

Uh...[Bit of additional awkwardness there as she considers how much things have changed when he's the one offering her food. ] what kind?

[mathematician]

Chocolate.

[And out of the bag is half of a snack pak, ~just for you~. Along with a spoon.]

[totallytrustworthy]

You sure she won't kill you for sharing your breakfast as well? [Chloe's teasing of course; she doesn't even hesitate to snatch up what he's offered.]

[mathematician]

She might. I don't really get her.

[PEOPLE HE ISN'T RELATED TO CARING ABOUT HIM...????]

[totallytrustworthy]

[ENIGMA WRAPPED IN A MYSTERY.]

You don't really get that she...cares. [Have one slightly judgmental glance while she cracks the top on that snackpack.]

[mathematician]

Of course she does. If I died, no one would be able to maintain the Transporter. I care about her too. We'd have to find someone else to run medical exams if she wasn't around.

[totallytrustworthy]

Oh sweetheart...I don't think you've got that theory properly worked out just yet.

[mathematician]

... No, I'm pretty sure I do.

[He'll concede on the humor thing, but come on, he can't be wrong about EVERYTHING.]

[totallytrustworthy]

You can't possibly care for her based solely on her ability to pass out medical exams, can you? [Look even she sounds uncertain about that one. Come on, Lowell, you've clearly got a beating heart in there somewhere under all that tsun. ]

[mathematician]

...

[...Can he?]

She's more annoying than anything.