silentspringmods (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
silentspringmods) wrote2022-02-03 12:58 pm
silentspringmods) wrote2022-02-03 12:58 pm
( SETTING INTERACTION. )
As of 2/3/24, this is the new page where all character interactions with the setting/explorations/etc unrelated to events will reside. Here are some examples of the types of things to post on this page:
- My character would like to search the library for xyz, would they find anything?
- My character is going to approach an NPC outside of an event and do xyz, what happens?
- If my character goes asking around for x, what will they be told?
Examples of things that should still go on the FAQ:
- What kind of books does the library have on x topic? (Character is not specifically searching the library IC).
- Does the town have x facility?
- Is my character able to do x?
And, when in doubt, it's fine to just post the question on your best guess and I can move it as needed!
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(But first will pet Norman's dog because dogs are fantastic.)
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"Well, it certainly looks like Clancy's very fond of you."
Once they're in the house, he offers to fix Norton a drink—the promised G&T is prepared before he joins him on the couch, one leg crossed over the other, head canted slightly as he regards his guest with interest.
"Her Majesty's secret service. I've been looking forward to hearing what stories you have all week."
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"To be clear, I don't work for the British government any more, and if I did I couldn't tell you. But I did my national service working in signal intelligence during the war. Linguist. I've been trained in German, Italian, French, Spanish, Polish, and Russian. And a few others." He pauses and smiles impishly. "I'm good with tongues.
"Anyhoo, the rest of the career went from there. With the usual ups and downs. Secrets and coverups and of course a lot of political nonsense."
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"Sadly, possessing useful skills isn't always enough. Just look at Turing. But I'm still loyal to Her Majesty, and always have been. Not a chance I'd defect to the Soviets like that traitor Burgess. And so I thought, why not come to America? It's a good place for fresh starts. And Sweetwater is absolutely charming."
Some truth, some omission, and some obedient lies. If Dr. Pollock knows Norton was brought here by a mysterious force, then he'll know Norton's lying, but he hopes it shows he's willing to cooperate with Sweetwater's big lie.
"What about you, Doctor? I heard rumours you matriculated at Yale. Very fancy. Much fancier than most small town GPs."
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Connecticut wasn't for me, and I don't like traffic. I grew up outside of D.C.—emphasis on outside. I figured Sweetwater's close enough to get D.C. business without having to give up having a yard for the dog.
[ A deviation, perhaps, from the usual 'yard for the kids to play in', though he says it with the same cadence a family man might. ]
Besides. If the reds drop the bomb, it'll be D.C. they're going for first. Here we at least have the chance to get into a bunker. [ Beat. ] I saw about Burgess in the papers. Quite a blow. I can't imagine. Did you know him personally?
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Only by reputation. Knew people who knew him, that sort of thing. And of course the ripples of the aftermath were felt throughout the British government. And so here I am working in a department store of all things when I could be doing something useful instead.
[He waves his hand loosely as if to swat away the thought like a fly.]
But enough of that. I hate to complain. Stiff upper lip. I have a lovely house in a lovely town and even if I feel a bit lonely sometimes there are certainly much worse places in the world to be.
not me realizing i abruptly switched to brackets lakdsjfaskd.... force of habit rip
[ Norman reaches for a pack of cigarettes and metal zippo lighter atop a few copies of The Saturday Evening Post on the coffee table and taps one out; the lighter appears to have seen better days, but through the scratches and tarnishing the shallow engraving of a simplified tiger can be seen, below it a numbered infantry division, followed by two more lines that read
KOREA
1952-1953. ]
You smoke, Norton?
no worries! i'm a fan of brackets!
I accept vogues from handsome ommes on occasion. [He replies to Norman's question with a flirtatious smile.]
[He notes the engraving on the lighter, Korea, the dates, and wonders if Norman was in the war. Or perhaps someone Norman was close to. Norton sets down his drink and leans closer to him.]
I'm going to be bold. I like you. I think maybe you like me, since you invited me here. May I kiss you?
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That is bold. [ He exhales smoke, lets his cigarette sit between middle and ring finger, a thin thread of gray smoke rising from its end. ] And you may.
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I grew up in London during the Blitz and the world might end in atomic fire. Life's too short for hesitation, don't you think?
[He leans forward to taste the cigarette smoke on Norman's lips and breath, the kiss itself as bold as the request, and with a clear unspoken offer to give (or receive) more.]
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When he withdraws, he rests a hand on Norton's knee, firm, fingers splayed, but his touch doesn't creep any further than that. ]
Did you learn that during the Blitz, as well?
[ He takes a drag, exhaling smoke. ]
You'll have to tell me more of your daring exploits in Her Majesty's Secret Services sometime. I've always enjoyed a good spy book, and you've certainly proven yourself good company.
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[Norton smiles at the memory. The smile turns mischievous when Norman again brings up his previous employment.]
If you keep asking me about my service, I might start to think you're trying to honeypot me.
[He rests his hand over Norman's, encourages it to slide up a few inches higher. But then his expression and voice turn serious.]
But there's no one else around and we're being honest with each other. I know you're not just a simple GP and you know I'm not a willing ex-pat. Before I was brought here by whatever force brought me here, the agency I worked for investigated strange phenomenon and mysterious technologies and implemented coverups when needed. If you tell me what's going on, I might be able to help. If you don't want my help [he rushes to add] I'll go right back to pretending everything's perfectly normal in Sweetwater. I wouldn't dream of interfering with an allied nation's work unwanted. Professional courtesy, not to mention the diplomatic implications. I can tell you stories of tracking fugitive Nazis or Soviet operatives instead.
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You certainly are feeling bold tonight.
Do you remember what I told you, Norton? The day we met?
You should be careful here.
...And I'm a bit old for a honeypot operation, don't you think?
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Of course. I'll behave.
Or only misbehave in fun ways.
[His hand is still resting on Norman's and he shifts his fingers to lightly brush against his knuckles to signal what sort of fun misbehavior he's talking about. Then, a change of subject to show he can be good. No pushing the matter.]
I met Ian Fleming once, back when he was with Naval Intelligence. Very dashing man. Popular with the ladies, I thought. If I were to write spy novels, they'd be very different. And probably not publishable.
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[ Beat. He watches Norton for a moment. ]
Why don’t you? Become a writer, that is. You’d probably be good at it. No reason not to. Show Americans exotic locales like Cambridge and Leeds.
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[He expects Norman won't forget Norton's misstep quickly, but he's not dragging him off for torture either, so Norton will consider it a win and also not the worst date he's had before.
Then Norman calls Leeds an exotic locale and Norton bursts into bright, genuine laughter.]
Leeds?! It's not a bad city, but if it's your idea of exotic you need to travel more, darling. Not that I'm in any position to judge. I've always wanted to travel but the salary of a civil servant isn't really up for globe-trotting adventure, and there's no family wealth to speak of. So I'd read reports about other people carrying out work in exotic locales, never seen them myself.
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You could write about those guys, then. Take some creative liberties, become a famous author adored by women and homosexuals everywhere. You know what the demographic wants. James Bond was never my type. Or the receptionist's.
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Maybe I will give it a go. Famous author sounds much better than department store shop clerk. You'll have to be my reader, though. This was your idea so it's only fair you take some responsibility for whatever my mind births out. I could come by with new pages once a week.
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You know, Norton, I wouldn't mind that. Not one bit. ...And I don't think Clancy would, either, would you, boy?
[ He takes a glance down at the dog who has settled himself between the couch they sit on and the coffee table, giving the dome of his red-and-white head and enthusiastic rub. ]
He likes you. You know, they say that there's no better judge of character than a dog. Don't prove him wrong, Norton. I've been enjoying your company.
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