Puttin' on the Ritz

Rosie!

*Hugs her back just as tightly.*

..Oh!

-puts her hands down-

You gotta really nice sense of style though, anybody ever tell you that? Feels… I dunno… classy probably makes me sound dumb to say but that’s the kinda vibe I get. 

-Self-consciously she tugs on her messy braid-

*As if the compliment wasn’t enough to please Rosie’s ego, Mary-Anne has to go and suggest they shop together. A shopping buddy. Rosie beams.* 

Oh man, based on the rude shit some of these guys have already said to me? I can believe it. One of ‘em thought it was cheeky 

-Mary-Anne hadn’t anticipated that Rosie would extend that kind of offer to her, having come accustom to the casual coldness that comes with having a lot of acquaintances and not a whole lot of friends. So when it’s extended she’s beaming herself, and finding herself quite excited to spend an outing with somebody besides herself, going somewhere other than window shopping pawn shops or church- 

Yeah? I mean, that’d be really, really cool don’t get me wrong, just, it’s nice since it ain’t like we know each other that well.

-She scratches the back of her scalp-

..Oh!

-puts her hands down-

You gotta really nice sense of style though, anybody ever tell you that? Feels… I dunno… classy probably makes me sound dumb to say but that’s the kinda vibe I get. 

-Self-consciously she tugs on her messy braid-

*As if the compliment wasn't enough to please Rosie's ego, Mary-Anne has to go and suggest they shop together. A shopping buddy. Rosie beams.* 

…and shit? BT Not sure if that was warranted.

*she bites into it, most likely making a powder sugared mess on her face* Mmf-yesh, s’good! Real good. They’re the best fresh, but jeepahs these’re marvelous too. 

…and shit? BT Not sure if that was warranted.

*she bites into it, most likely making a powder sugared mess on her face* Mmf-yesh, s'good! Real good. They're the best fresh, but jeepahs these're marvelous too. 

…and shit? BT Not sure if that was warranted.

And, nah. Unless my friend who sent them ain’t tell me. I’m pretty sure I’d smell it, anyway. 

Just to be safe though, don’t take the browns, just take some of the cookies or one of the cinnamon buns. He sent beignets too. 

PUKES EVERYWHERE

Randall laughs at his (possible) distasteful joke and thanks the waitress when she brings him a towel for spilling his coffee and offers to top off his mug. He accepts even though it’s not particularly fresh and starts dumping sugar into it when she leaves. He can’t help but notice Rosie’s attire. 

"Holy cow are those jeans? Are you sure you’re not, like, Dimitri in disguise?”

Though a lot has changed since they last spoke, he admits to himself. And among all the big, heavy changes there would still be room for little changes. Like Rosie wearing pants. It is the 70’s after all. 

"Not that you don’t look as exceptional as ever. But… thanks for coming. I was thinking in retrospect it might have been a bit, uh, rude of me to just slip you a note and anticipate you’d have the time or the interest…"

He offers her a tired smile.

Once the waitress is finished helping Randy, she sets a mug down for Rosie with a small container for creamer. Which Rosie will pour a generous amount into her coffee before sliding it to the middle of their table. 

"Please. Dimitri only wishes he was as stylish as me. But yeah, I bought myself a few pairs of trousers, finally! I do still have plenty of dresses, but I figured this would be a little more sensible for the season." Rosie grabs a spoon and starts to stir her drink.

Randall fiddles with the bowl of sugar packets as he speaks, failing to calm his usual jitters. It’s comforting to know that things have been stable for Rosie (in the twisted sense of stability this atmosphere seems to create). And having been banking on the history of Mountain Lab, well, he’d figured at least one natural disaster should have happened by now. 

Despite himself he grins when she says she’s worried about him. He still doesn’t really think he deserves to be a concern in her mind. But he’s grateful for her thoughts. He drops the sugar in favor of drinking his coffee. 

"Well I think I made it fairly clear on base that something’s kind of, uh, not exactly right… to be honest I sort of wish I hadn’t. Because I really, really don’t want you to worry about me…"

But he really, really doesn’t want to report her to for misconduct.

"The Administrator has decided to… bank on my work experience, I guess you could say. As a sort of punishment for breaking contract and not giving her the information she wanted when she acquired me. Basically, she’s forcing me to report anything I see that violates her rules.”

He takes a sharp breath and rubs his temples.

When she hears him out..well, the way he's worded it, it doesn't sound as dreadful as the punishments she's conjured up in her head. It's still a rather unfortunate position he's in. "So she's turned you into a snitch. Yeesh..that's kind of a pain, no one likes a tattle-tale." 

Rosie grins at him before taking a careful sip of her coffee. "Oh you know me, I'm always in trouble. Naw..I know she doesn't like us chattin' with BLUs. I s'pose I'll have to try an' make more friends with RED while you're around. Heehee, I can imagine you patrollin' with your little book, writin' up citations for everyone. I know I shouldn't laugh, it's an awful job you've got, but at least you can be secretive about it. And I promise I won't tell anyone." 

A paintin’? Oh! Yes, I know that one. An artist right undah my nose! You are very talented, mistah Dawit! :0 

Hmm? *she watches him curiously, slowly extending a hand to take the tiny notebook, and starts paging through his drawings* My goodness..I dunno how people do it, just sittin’ an’ makin’ pictures like this straight outta their heads. It’s remarkable! 

Thank you! And, I don’t like them bloody scorpions either…Or arachnids in general. 

//He visibly shudders before taking the book back.//

Ah, I mean, it’d just be hard to sell when I can’t even leave the base you know? I’ve thought about it and all I just, can’t see how I’d work. I have sold my paintings before, privately to a rich bloke. 

..I can’t do much art, but I admire those that can. I can sew..and I made a birdhouse once. But it got wrecked at our last base. :( 

I can sew too! It’s knitting that proved to be formidable for me, however. If you’d like, we can build another bird house one day? I feel like it’d living things up a bit. 

Thank you, Miss Rosie, I’m glad to see how enthusiastic you are about seeing my work. I uh, actually have a painting in the rec room, between you and I, to cover that hole that one demo made. 

Oh, and I have this. 

//He fiddles around in one of his bigger pockets, and pulls at a small, 5x7inch sketchbook and hands it to her.//

A paintin'? Oh! Yes, I know that one. An artist right undah my nose! You are very talented, mistah Dawit! :0 

Hmm? *she watches him curiously, slowly extending a hand to take the tiny notebook, and starts paging through his drawings* My goodness..I dunno how people do it, just sittin' an' makin' pictures like this straight outta their heads. It's remarkable!