video; un: max

[ebeje]

Good evening.

[ The feed clicks to life to a modestly dressed (that is, modest in means, not necklines) but well-kept young woman, seated in the likely familiar mid-level chaos of refugee housing. The walls are not well-painted, and the quarters a bit close, but it's what they're all dealing with, or have recently, and Max is no exception. ]

Like the rest of you, I am finding myself starting over in this place — finding work, building a life. Given the nature of our presence here, displaced from our homes and our histories, it seems the only base of support many of us may have is each other.

So I wondered if those of you who have found your feet might share — what work have you found yourselves suited to here? How are you making your way in this world? Or how do you plan to, if those plans have not yet come to fruition?

And how does that compare to your ambitions? Is the position your hold now everything you had hoped for, [ unlikely, her tone suggests, but feel free to surprise her, ] or is there more that you would seek to accomplish? Perhaps there are others here who could lend their aid, or whose ambitions might align with your own.

[ Perhaps Max can help. c: ]


[[ ooc: housemates, feel free to action spam if u like! ]]

Comments

text | blackwind

[laveers]

I would be surprised if someone holds a position here they are satisfied with.

[ rather not surprised, just sort of wow buddy ]

What were you?

text i guESS

[ebeje]

Perhaps there have been some meteoric ascents I've not been privy to.

I was the proprietress of an inn, among other related business concerns. [ """related business concerns""" ] And yourself?

[laveers]

Or we have yet to see a star rise.

[ Doubtful. ]

I am a sailor. [ Not past tense. A Greyjoy, but her family's name is just one among many here. ] I had my own fleet.

[ebeje]

An admiral then — would that not be the correct term? How very grand.

Under whose flag did you sail?

video | un: c.fraser

[nineteenfortyfive]

[The post might have been enough to catch Claire's attention, but the username does it--Max. John had mentioned her, and that he'd passed on her contact information. Always a helper, that one, though Claire's curiosity is definitely stirred.]

I work at the Sanctuary, the clinic in this city. It's about what I thought it would be. [She's pleased, but she's worked in wars and in charity hospitals before. Little surprises her... beyond magic, that is, but even that is something she's growing accustomed to.]

And forgive me for the abrupt change of subject, but I believe you spoke with John Watson before, correct?

[ebeje]

[ Interesting that the Sanctuary seems a subtle divider of opinions, thus far— but that's a subject for another time. ]

I did, yes — Ms. Fraser, I presume? [ Max smiles as she makes the connection, and dips her head in greeting. ] Dr. Watson suggested you as someone who might be familiar with eighteenth century medicine, [ a touch wry: ] Give or take a few hundred years.

[ She'll take what she can get. ]

[nineteenfortyfive]

[Claire smiles in return.] Please, call me Claire. Is your name Max, then?

[Just a guess. And her smile turns a bit wry as well. Give or take a hundred years. She'll fill John in on that eventually. Time travel rarely comes up.]

It was 1745 before I came here, actually. So, I'm a little more familiar than John might be aware.

video | un: null

[cassus]

For a woman who looks like she's never needed to beg for advice...

Or anything else, for that matter. [ Max gets an approving look as Dazai's eyes roam down towards her decolletage. In fact, ever the enthusiast of good fashion, Dazai tries to tilt the screen and 'appreciate' the lovely cut of her bustier and all it contains even more. ]

You certainly are holding your breath for a slew of it.

[ Max doesn't strike him as some doe-eyed waif that needs the biased opinions of others to guide her way. If anything, she exudes the aura of someone forged into stronger stuff by surviving without them. ]

Are you really that hard up for guidance from complete strangers?
Or is this just boredom at work?

[ebeje]

It is. [ Just Max. Like Cher. ]

That is very near — 1716 was the year when last dates held a stationary meaning for me. Were you in England?

[ Just judging by the accent. ]

[nineteenfortyfive]

Scotland, actually. I live there with my husband and his family. [After a moment, she catches her error.] Lived.

[That's all gone now. Moving on.]

And yourself, Max?

[ebeje]

[ Or anything else earns the slightest tightening of her smile, uncertain whether to be pleased with the illusion she's led a comfortable life or, you know.

Anyway. His obvious appraisal lifts her brow a few ticks, though she makes no move to obstruct his view. Finished yet? ]

Do not mistake me, sir. I have no need for your guidance. [ His, specifically. .. :) ] Only, I believe that we have found ourselves in this situation together, and if we are to succeed in this world, it may be easier in concert than alone. To know where each of us stand, and where we would hope to go, seems the first step in providing such assistance.

[laveers]

Aye, but in our waters we have a Lord Captain. My uncle.

We sailed under our own flag. A golden kraken on black.

video | un: sparkler

[flashystyle]

[The responding feed is from a device propped up by something, as the setting behind Dorian is that of a laboratory. Shelves lined with vials and various other containers lie behind him, and as things become more in focus, it becomes clear this is a workplace of a man that isn't entirely at work. He has his hands off the phone, but it's only to twiddle a pencil between his fingers. He sighs.]

I wouldn't say we're making headway in this world so much as catching up with its natives. Taking up what we can, because what we so desperately want is to be back in the comfort of our own lives. Or rather-- That's how I'm fairing. People very well may not have been so unlucky that this is a blessing, but I can't say I see the appeal.

[cassus]

And here I never offered to give you any.

[ Her disapproval doesn't ruffle him in the least. If anything, Dazai expects a measure of tense bristling after he plays the salacious cad card. ]

That is one opinion. [ It's a testament to the human ( or not so human ) spirit that strangers naturally try to rally together. He admires that, even if on most days Dazai struggles to wholeheartedly hold a belief in that sense of unity, no matter his generally helpful actions. ]

Meanwhile! Did you know the person most likely to murder you is someone you know?

[ The conversation swerves into territory that most people would find disturbing. Yet Dazai brings it up like the weather, agreeably palming his chin and maintaining a smile throughout the conversation. Dazai isn't exactly proclaiming he disagrees that people should work together. But at the same time he's happy to question this idealistic utopian fantasy. ]

Statistics seem to disagree. [ He tilts his head thoughtfully. ]

At least when it comes to the 'better together' theory, and assuming we're all going to get along and help one another.

un: stardust

[insurgent]

i've no complaints
but i wasn't particularly ambitious before coming here
and i'm accustomed to odd jobs

[ so she's always down for side gigs. ]

action!

[vorrutyer]

[ Byerly, who's in the room as she's making her post - preparing himself a cup of tea - comments, mildly: ]

Ooh, listen to you. You'll be running an employment agency in no time.

surprise - shows up late without starbucks.

[priorly]

[Bleary of eye and mussed of hair (really, he has so much hair and every strand of it seems to have found an angle all it's own) Prior pushes the kitchen door open a moment later. In a borrowed shirt and with pillow creases at his jaw, he certainly seems to have slept here.

A beat, as he takes in the table, and the network device set up to record, and who is sitting in front of it. Everything but Byerly on the other side of the room. Shit. Shit.

Exaggeratedly mouthing sorry, he backs out of the room with a finger to his lips, as dramatically unobtrusive as possible.

...And then puts his head back round the door a moment later for a second look. Look, he just wants to figure out if this is the regal housemate or the one with fantastic tits before he has to introduce himself.

Tits. Okay, he can work with that.]

text! id: romanée-conti

[vacuum]

I had a good position back then. Money, status, and the means to buy whatever I want.

Been a long time since I've had to scrape for pennies the way I'm doing now, so yeah. Things could be better.

video; username: Crusader08

[panzersoldat]

[ His feed opens up to a very very large older man. He's definitely seen many battles, judging by the scars visible (kind of hard to miss a missing eye). But for as hard as he looks, his smile is warm and generally very honest. ]

I have been looking into either the guard or mercenary work, to be honest. But my plan is to do as I did back in my world. I made a vow. I swore to carry on the ideals of my fallen comrades. I promised to restore hope to my troubled world. I will seek out tyranny and evil where ever it might take root and I will bring the hammer of justice down upon the wicked.

I traveled to where there are those who needed my help, who needed a knight to protect them, and I did so with every ounce of my being. That was my goal there. I was a Free Knight, helping all in my path. I was this and still am this. My quest does not change, no matter where I am.

[ebeje]

[ To be fair, they're both a bit regal, but they don't both have tits God himself would be jealous of, so. ]

No, thank you, [ she answers Byerly easily, once she's clicked the feed off. ] I would simply like to know what they need - wouldn't you?

[ Rhetorical, apparently, as her eyes flick next to the stranger peeking in around the door, sizing him up. (Mostly trying to guess if they're fucking, let's be honest.) ]

Who is your friend?

[vorrutyer]

Why do you assume he's my friend? Not all beautiful, charming men with gorgeous eyes and a wit to match know each other, you know, dear Max.

[ He grins in appreciation of his own wit. Such as it is. Then he crooks his finger to beckon Prior out. ]

Prior Walter. Prior, this is the lovely Max. Say hello to one another.

[ebeje]

Where I am from, a black flag means a ship of the account -- pirates. But that is not the case for you?

[priorly]

Are you done?

[Really, that could be to either of them. Prior's smoothing down his hair as he steps gingerly back into the kitchen, one eye on the device in front of Max.]

Everybody's always filming here. I don't know about you but I like the chance to prepare for my close ups. [But he pulls out a chair and sits down at the table anyway, resting his chin on his hand with a smile.] Max. I've heard so many wonderful things.

[Well, a pair of them.]

[ebeje]

Nassau. [ Also gone. ] In the West Indies.

[ There is some small consolation in knowing the place in which she was raised has been obliterated as well, but not much. Still: forward. ]

Were you a nurse with the church, or--? [ Well, there aren't a great many other kinds to Max's knowledge, but Claire doesn't strike her as Catholic, and certainly not a nun if she's married. ]

[nineteenfortyfive]

[Quite a time to live in Nassau. Claire nods, showing her understanding--she knows her history, to an extent, but at the very least her geography.]

It was more my own undertaking. Healing has always been of interest to me.