hadriel_logs | (no subject)

Who: Open to everyone
What: #TeamTranquillity are in it to win it. Deciding to work together, the gang has taken over the library and converted it into a space for weary residents of Hadriel to catch their breath and just take it easy amid the intensifying competition in the city to invoke one emotion or another.
Where: The Library
When: March 15th to March 21st, duration of the event.
Warnings: Will Update if necessary!

[Hadriel's library has unfortunately seen little use; the books are either unreadable or cover material so random that only ~~Hope~~ someone who completely did not understand the concept of fun would have picked those books. Little wonder it's hardly frequented by Hadriel's residents.

But it's still a library: meaning, it's got plenty of space, and plenty of peace and quiet.

So with all the chaos erupting over the city? It could make the perfect sanctuary, a place to take a breather from the emotion wars. A place where a person could unwind over a cup of coffee, tea or hot chocolate, knit a sweater in peace, or even plunge themselves into pillow/blanket fort and just take a nap. A place to relax.

A place for Tranquillity.

Which is why Team Tranquillity has taken over the library and converted it into a mini R&R. Tables and chairs have been pushed to the side to allow for floor space, and comfortable chairs, sofas and even beanie bags, all in softer pastel colours, dot the empty space. A couple of tables and chairs have been left as well, so that those in need of them can use them as they'd like. And of course, the giant pillow fort bundled in one corner for people to unceremoniously throw themselves into.

The members of Team Tranquillity are all around to ensure that your time in the Tranquillity Space is as relaxing as can be. Some members are even offering services, ranging from massages to meditation, gentle exercises to a steaming hot cup of joe. Knitting classes, advice on handling emotional stress when under torture and trauma, and even some fortune-telling for light laughs.

And it's perfectly alright to drag a beanie bag to your own personal corner and just crash there for the day. No judgement from Team Tranquillity.

A message is sent out via the network to inform Hadriel's citizens of the new place in town to get away from it all. Drop by whenever, do what you need to relax and recharge. It's a stressful world out there, and sometimes we all need to take some time to chill out, right?

Welcome, to the Tranquillity Space.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Danse wonders the same thing. He feels he's the least relaxed person among their group, the weak link as it is.

Strange choice of words though. It's a bad coincidence, but...well. How else is he supposed to keep all these emotions away if he's not working?

"I don't do well with idle hands." He admits that much. "And if there's something that I can contribute, then I'd rather get involved than remain idle."

"Hmm, yes. There used to be a saying, how 'idle hands are the devil's workshop', or something to that effect. I can't say that I entirely agree with it, however."

If only because Ravine has been nothing but idle. Not that she really has much choice in the matter. She is what she is and there's nothing to be done about it.

Unless she did. It's best not to entertain such drastic notions.

"It's not a popular opinion." Not everyone wants to be constantly on the go. And Danse likes to work. He likes to contribute, to be useful, to feel useful.

But enough about him. The more he thinks about how he feels, the deeper the rabbit hole goes into places in his mind and memories that he'd rather bury. "Apart from that disruption, I hope your day has been satisfactory?"

"I'm not very popular."

Spoken more like a true statement than anything else. No hint of despondency or anything -- that's just the way it is. When you tend to be the first thing someone sees after what is likely the worst day of their life, you're not always met in kind.

"Can't say that I have any complaints, even with the disruption." In fact, she's more than happy just to sit in the corner, watching people go by. That's just her lot in life.

...and death.

Well, she's blunt isn't she? Practically a stranger, (they just met through the strategy meeting in the morning, after all), Danse doesn't quite know what to say to her about that, or if she even seems bothered. Maybe...try to comfort her?

"If you're satisfied with the person you are and the company you keep, then ultimately popularity doesn't matter." That's how Danse has always lived his life. He's never tried to change the person he is to better fit in with the others.

"Anyway, I'm glad to hear that. If you need anything else for your booth, don't hesitate to contact me."

Funny. For a precog, the attempted consolation almost comes as a surprise to her. Not that she is constantly being plagued with probability foresight, but sometimes the outcomes end up unexpected.

"Oh, don't get me wrong, Paladin," she says with little to no consideration of using his old, bygone title. "Much as I appreciate the kind gesture and aid, I am quite satisfied with who and what I am."

The problem here is that you can't quite say the same, can you?

The change in atmosphere is sharp and instantaneous. Danse tenses like a cloth that's been harshly wrung out, eyes narrowing angrily at her.

He's not angry at her, mind you. Because only one or two people would know his former title, and the thought that it might have been Valentine pisses him off as much as it hurts and humiliates to be reminded of his shame.

"Who told you. The synth?"

Oops, sure did let that cat out of the bagel now. Though, to be fair, Ravine was never trying to make it a covert scandal in the first place.

Danse... is another story. She looks at him with interest, not faltering once at the tension exuding from him. While she may be doing a bang up job at this whole chill thing, she is confident in there being purpose to this.

"You did." She cranes her head, looking up at the top of her little crappy tent she had constructed. "Do you really think this is for show? A game? I promise you, it's not."

For whatever that promise is worth.

"You said it was to predict fortunes, not nose around my memories!"

Danse stands up, struggling to keep his temper under check. He should leave, leave before she digs inside his head and finds that synth component nestle in his brain. He's not some, some specimen that she can just analyze and observe!

"Stay out of my head. You have no right to my memories."

As Danse's disposition sours, Ravine's remains unchanging. She is still while he moves, only shifting her eyes to follow his glare and scorn.

"And what is the difference? Were you expecting something you'd crack out of a cookie? 'Good news will come to you by mail. Lucky numbers: Six, ten, nineteen, twenty-five, thirty nine, forty one.' That's rich." She maintains a weary smile. It is not the first time she's had this conversation, be it with the living or the dead. She knows it won't be the last. "I am not in your head. I see probabilities and outcomes, and sometimes those outcomes are based on previous events. Past, present, future? It's all the same."

Time is an illusion. A construction of the human mind. It is warped even in this place.

Is there a future here? A past? Of course not. There is hardly a present.

She cants her head, resting it lazily against her hand. "Rest assured, however, I do not share secrets. Gossip isn't really my thing."

Yes. That's reassuring.

"I was expecting that you'd mention your skills required looking into someone's past, or that you'd ask someone if they wanted their fortune told before reaching into their heads!"

Danse had stepped inside and taken a seat, thinking that Ravine had just wanted him to take a break and catch his breath. He didn't go into this wanting a fortune. He didn't want to know his future, he's not even sure he wants a future.

He's raising his voice. He needs to stop. In a show of temper that he'll regret later, Danse jabs a finger at her, voice low but brimming with rage. "Keep your powers to yourself. And if you can't, then stay the hell away from me."

With that, he exists the booth in an awful temper...and with the fear that she may have seen all his secrets. So what if she said she didn't want to share them? They were Danse's to give, not hers to look through like one of those old pre-war photo albums. He couldn't shake the feeling of being looked through, of someone's eyes raking all over him, skin crawling as the question, "Do they know?" repeats over and over again.

Where is security and peace of mind, when not even your inner thoughts are safe?

He doesn't want to go near Ravine ever again. Danse is not intimidated easily, but Ravine has done what a contingent of super mutants and a bomb-strapped chair has failed to do.