this is the part where prison is more or less dave and busters

[saklas]

Passengers: Everyone who wants to come see what the weird vending machine is about for the first time it is open to them! This is an open mingle/party style log.
Location: "a corner," the location of the Commissary
Date: February 1 - 7 on year one of our cool and sexy journey
Summary: 14 space idiots squint at the ATM that can supposedly make elk meat and clown shoes for them
Warnings: Will add as needed! I'm 90% sure someone's going to ask for drugs or blades, just as a weather forecast

Comments

[expectaspectre]

Whoops: Grace jumps as if someone had prodded her with a fireplace poker, spinning around to see... oh. A very pleasant-looking woman. She's gonna go ahead and guess this is Claire, as she hasn't actually met.... really, any other women thus far.

(About now is when poor Claire ought to begin to feel the hair on the back of her neck stand up, and get a very unpleasant feeling of being watched, and its accompanying physical discomfort. Grace really can't help it.)

"Interesting to somebody, maybe..." She tries a little upward twitch at the corner of her mouth which on someone else might read as a smile, but just looks nervous on Grace's pale face. "...Wanna bejazzle your gun?"

[nineteenfortyfive]

Given the number of people on board, she can assume this might be Grace. Maybe? Claire crosses her arms over her middle, attributing the not-so-great feeling to the machine and its contents.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you," she apologizes with a quick smile. Skittish, this one. "I can't name a single thing I would want to bejazzle, least of all that. I was hoping for a can of Coca-Cola or something... normal."

[expectaspectre]

"I don't think they do normal here," Grace replies, peering around her at the hallway of the honest-to-goodness spaceship they all happen to be standing in, as if that's a normal thing to do. "It has clothes and snacks, so... maybe you can still get your Coke? But I wouldn't be surprised if it's some kind of weird space-Coke for aliens, or something."

Another nervous smile. Slightly less nervous-- Claire seems a calm sort, and not yet perturbed by Grace's presence, so she's just gonna ride this wave until it crashes, and be thankful.

[nineteenfortyfive]

"Space-Coke," she echoes with a scrunch of her nose. She can't imagine it. Luckily, Claire has yet to experience Coke changing it's formula.

"Grace, isn't it?" Claire offers a more reassuring smile, stepping closer to the machine to inspect it. She's almost worried she'll shoot off like a startled deer.

[expectaspectre]

Almost at the exact same time that Claire steps forward, Grace steps back, maintaining the amount of distance between them. It's a subtle thing, and seemingly very practiced. As if there's a danger in a possible point of contact.

"Claire?" A little smile flits over Grace's face. "Not a lot of ladies around, so..."

[nineteenfortyfive]

"That's me," she confirms with a nod. "Too many men in this place, you mean."

Look, she's just being honest.

[expectaspectre]

"I'm not complaining..." Not starting any battle-of-the-sexes nonsense before her first week is up would be a good goal. "Just... used to a little more balance, I guess? And less... you know. Conflict. In that guy way."

Grace does not elaborate. There is no way on earth, she assumes, Claire doesn't know what she means.

[nineteenfortyfive]

"That's a much nicer way of putting it," she says with a little laugh. "I'm hoping no one's been too much for you thus far."

James worried.

[expectaspectre]

"Most people have been super nice! More than I'm used to, really. I keep waiting for the shoe to drop..."

Because of, you know, that slightly nauseous instinct that Grace causes that whispers directly into your ancient lizard brain that someone is hunting you, run, run.

"Some of the inmates are, um. Acquired tastes." To put it mildly, which she does.

[nineteenfortyfive]

"You're so sweet. I can't imagine anyone being unkind to you unless they were wrong in the head." She says it easily. "The inmates can be rough, but none I've met are... abhorrent, I suppose."

She's had a worse time with fellow wardens, really.

[expectaspectre]

Aw jeez. Grace can feel herself starting to blush, which never looks great on her-- an obvious wash of color on her unusually pale face. People here really are too nice. This can't be something Grace lets herself get used to.

"That's a good sign. The ones I've met in person, you can at least have a conversation with. No homicidal maniacs." Yet. Probably.

[nineteenfortyfive]

Claire would beg to differ. Some color does her good.

She's kind enough not to comment on that, however.

"Right. I'd still be cautious, at least for now. But I'm sure you'll be a good match for someone."

[expectaspectre]

Warning Grace to be cautious is like reminding the ocean to be wet, so she does what she does best, and agrees.

"Hope so. If there wasn't good I could do, I wouldn't be here at all, right?" At least that's what she tells herself.

[nineteenfortyfive]

"That's the way to look at it," Claire agrees. "A lot of the inmates might argue with you on that, but I'm hoping a lot of them will relax in the coming weeks."

And maybe get something from the vending machine? Who knows.

[expectaspectre]

Grace's gaze swivels back to the screen of the machine. For the record, she has not blinked once during this entire conversation.

"Thinking of getting anything? There's not much that's really... practical."

[nineteenfortyfive]

Not creepy at all. Claire might take note, in the back of her mind, but maybe she hasn't been paying enough attention.

"I don't know... I might just hold off for a while. Some of these have me curious, but... how about you, Grace?"

[expectaspectre]

Grace gives a little, helpless shrug. "No tickets. Next time, maybe, if they have a sleeping bag? I need one."

She leaves that one mysterious.

[nineteenfortyfive]

She can try. Claire frowns, crossing her arms over her middle as she regards Grace.

"A sleeping bag? Whatever for?"

[expectaspectre]

"Normal blankets don't really work for me." Another noncommittal shrug. "It's a sleep thing I have. Everything else is fine, I don't need much."

She finally blinks, contemplative. "Maybe my photo album from home."

[nineteenfortyfive]

Claire rubs at her own arm, still regarding Grace with that curious frown.

"A sleep thing? Difficult to keep warm?" And then, because maybe it's strange to ask-- "I am the resident doctor on board, as you know. It's in my nature to ask about this."

[expectaspectre]

"I move around a lot." Not a lie! But she doesn't mention that the movement in question is vertically, about a foot above the mattress. "Since I got here it's been, um. Fitful?"

She's been waking up several times every night. Probably part of it is being cold from the blankets not covering her underneath, but most of it's probably anxiety. Grace doesn't think she needs to mention that part.

[nineteenfortyfive]

"That's natural, I think. It's a strange place. Space... living, really, isn't a thing in my world. Time." Whatever. She feels like she fell into a television show.

[expectaspectre]

"Mine either. It's colder, did you notice?" Grace hugs her arms, like talking about it has made her subconsciously shiver. "Without the sun."

She's not saying anything about Vitamin D deficiency, because she's honestly not sure if that was a known thing back when Claire was studying medicine, but she's thinking it.

[nineteenfortyfive]

"It's not natural to be inside all the time," Claire says. "There are much worse conditions, but I do miss being... outside, under the sun, sitting in the grass."

But she won't be able to enjoy any of that if dead, so here she is.

[expectaspectre]

"I miss the sky."

Grace used to fly. Mainly as a way to mitigate the problems caused by her shitty spine and avoid having to be in cars as much as possible, but also just because it's fun. She hadn't realized how like freedom it felt, until she'd got here, and couldn't.

"Natural things, you know? Fish. I miss fish. Is that weird?"

It's kind of weird.