gunsforhire | It's almost like coming home

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It's almost like coming home

Who: Tex and whoever is at the For Hire base
What: She’s heard she still has an empty room and has finally decided to move back into it.
Where: For Hire base
When: Forward dated to 4/6, throughout the day
Warnings: Cursing and the like. I have been warned there may be baking and knitting.
Note: Feel free to name a location/room within the base to find her in (or for her to find you in) or to catch her as she’s coming in/setting up her room.

It had been a surprise when York had asked her if she was planning to stay on base with the rest of them. With how rarely she’s in the Gulch, she had thought her room would have been re-purposed by now. She lets that bit of information sit for the better part of a week before making a decision. There’s safety in numbers and even with her argument with York over the network, it’s a place she can trust to not have her throat slit overnight and if she’s going to be staying for an extended period in the city, she needs that.

She waits until the morning before slipping into the compound. She doesn’t have much, mostly tools of the trade and bare necessities, but the little she has is soon in her room. Her helmet is set on the desk and the door is left open as she sorts through the few belongings that were left behind, primarily clothes she couldn’t carry with her, and settles in. Her room is composed of the most basic of furniture and when she’s finished, her arsenal of guns and various weaponry will be the main feature.

Once her room is situated, she’ll wander the base and see what new additions have been made since she last was here. Eventually she’ll wind up in the kitchen to make and eat lunch before continuing her exploration and perusal of everything the base has to offer.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"I'm hurt," Florida grumbles, frowning. "While baked goods are my specialty, I make quite the impressive sesame beef noodles. And a few other foods. It's just that baked goods make people smile, and sleeping powders have greater efficacy with sugar."

That last bit doesn't put her at ease in regards to any of his culinary creations. "The sleeping powder for us or other friends of yours?"

"That would be another rule of the base," Florida points out. "No tampering with food. Or stealing of food that has been labeled as belonging to someone. And no labeling food that you didn't get or make for yourself. And you have to take turns at the weekly grocery runs and we all chip money into that but..."

He smiles warmly at her. "I have only ever tested my sleeping brownies here once. York was having a very hard time sleeping due to pain after the eye thing. I suggested it as an easier, more comforting way of taking sleeping medication. He agreed. They were effective. I would never test them without a participant who was willing. I'm all about consent in base."

"I'll keep that in mind," she replies. If she's going to stay here, she's going to have to trust some of what is said. Which means she'll have to trust that the food is safe.

"Is there a list of house rules I should be reading up on?"

"Most are common sense," Florida admits, taking the yarn and starting his leader on a needle. "Consider the fact that you're living in a place with well trained mercenaries who have to be able to trust that we aren't trying to kill each other. It may be non-standard, but we must balance our own security needs with the fact that we never want someone else here to think we might kill them."

Except York. He deserves it. "Don't invade another's room, for instance, unless in the course of a prank war. In fact, most things except for food become fair game in a prank war. Except for ever sabotaging equipment. That could get people killed."

He starts to knit, thinking to himself. "Typically if there is a bet or a betting pool going on, I am the handler of the funds or the arbitrator because I don't really care for gambling too much. Use your common sense mostly."

That explains why her room is as she left it. Privacy counts for a lot with her and if she can maintain that while living with the others, they'd all be better off for it.

She's nodding lightly as she speaks and leans back in her chair, finally relaxing. "York mentioned there being better communication between who has what contracts out. How do you handle that?"

"Centralized mission control," Florida answers. "Came up after... Well, York. When someone takes a job they say who, where, what. If we hear of an opposing job, we just reject. Don't indicate another merc is on it."

That would make things complicated.

"I also do a few new things as part of this group. Talk up members to encourage jobs. Research clients and objects when I can to try and make sure there aren't problems. Helps being an information broker."

"Good. I'll make use of that system." The incident with York had been unfortunate and she's keen to avoid anything similar happening again in the future. The man had made it clear how welcome intentional backstabbing, even on rival contracts, would be taken by the group.

"Have contracts and rates improved since you started these 'new things?'"

Florida grins. "Rates have improved because us working not against each other, and having better access to Recovery, means more successes, more clean and overwhelming success. I hear Maine's close to being bumped to A rank. I'm going to throw a party, of course."

IT also means they can pull each other into jobs easier, which is great. A reference you can trust is pretty insanely wonderful.

Not that he takes people with him if he can avoid it.

"Surprised he hasn't made it sooner," she says with a small smile. If she's going to toss her lot in with them, she'd rather see them succeed and move up in the ranks than falter.

"What about the rest of you? York didn't tell me much about well his work was going."

"York is a more private man than one would expect," Florida admits, a bit awed by that himself.

"Maybe it comes with the territory of being an infiltration specialist. Who knows. But yes, everyone around here is doing well so far as I can tell."

And he can tell a lot.

"So... what am I baking you?"

She nods. Just as she expected. Personal lives aren't her business, but it sounds like professionally everything is going well for all of them.

"Don't you have a sweater to finish first?" she asks, brow raised. At least, she assumes that's what he's making with his earlier demand for her to spread her arms out.

"I am excellent at multitasking," Florida chides her. "Besides, this is a celebration. The team's back together."

She shakes her head, amused that he of all people speaking to her like that. "How good of a baker are you?"

"That question is almost offensive," Florida teases, setting his knitting aside to look at her and prove she has his full attention. "I'm very good."

"Then I won't ask you for something boring," she teases back. If he's really going to ask for a request, then she can oblige even if she doesn't normally have much of a sweet tooth. "Cheesecake. With raspberries. Think you can handle that?"

Oooh, a challenge. Cheesecakes can be finicky.

"Sounds wonderful. Real raspberries? AS part of the cheesecake or a syrupy topping?"

So many options. "Chocolate?"

Now this is a homecoming she can get behind.

"Part of it and of course I want real raspberries. Or are you going to skimp?" she teases. "Leave the chocolate on the side, it's going to be sweet enough already."

"You'll have it tomorrow afternoon."

Florida gets up and bows to Tex. "I was thinking more like very light sprinkling with powdered chocolate, and a few shaved curls to look good."

"I can give extra points for presentation," she remarks as she watches him. "Make sure you save the first slice for me."

"Not doing so would besmirch my honor!" Florida declares, horrified by the suggestion. "It will be lovely, it will be delicious, and it will be delivered to your door!"

"Watch out. Keep acting like this and I'll be expecting this kind of treatment all the time." If she knew she'd be spoiled between assignments, she may have come back sooner.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

It's almost like coming home

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