pineslog | Alice looked all round the table, but there was nothing on it but tea.

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Alice looked all round the table, but there was nothing on it but tea.

Who: Jefferson, Cassian, Rhiannon, and anyone who feels like visiting the tea shop.
Where: Go Ask Alice
When: Any time in April, barring events.
What: An open catch-all log for goings on at the tea shop!
Warnings: N/A, just put them in your comment headers as needed.

[Open]

The town seems livelier these days, owing in part to everybody's recovery from the recent plague that went about. And a natural outcome of the warming weather and bustling activity is, of course, the tea room seeing more business-- which is something of a mixed bag to Jefferson, off-putting and antisocial as he can be at times.

Customers equal money: good!
Customers equal Jefferson having to deal with people and responsibilities more often: not so good.

But at least the shop's running smoothly-- or, at least, as smoothly as a place staffed by a rebel spy, a garbage eating bird, and the Mad Hatter can be. They've even started hosting occasional events, like open mic nights for poetry and creative writing and music. All in the name of cultivating the arts in Wayward Pines! Such as it is. (It's definitely not an excuse for Jefferson and Rhi to snicker behind the counters.)

So come on in and have a cup of tea. Or, well, anything else on the menu. And enjoy the music (and the staff selected music). And... the company of the (occasionally, to varying degrees) helpful staff.

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He glanced between her and the art book. Ready to launch from his tongue was a sardonic suggestion that cliffs boxing them in all around and a forest patrolled by the police might add some verisimilitude, but he couldn't very well say that...

Well, he could, but this girl hadn't done anything to earn his ire, or the existential crisis waiting around the corner when her head was so obviously muddled. How the hell was he supposed to answer? Tell her she was wrong, that he wasn't a friend--and by the way, have fun alone in the dangerous town that's holding you captive for some unknown purpose? Brainwashing really should come with a manual explaining how to snap a person out of it without crushing their feelings.

Not knowing what else to do, Jack put on an easygoing smile for the sake of his nerves and not spooking her. "Um, a still life of a bowl of a bowl of fruit?" he joked in the vein of all people everywhere who know nothing about art.

Clary would remember a boy who was more honest with his face and his body, broadcasting if something was bothering him. Someone who'd grown up peaceful and happy and open. Not the case for the Jack in front of her--his real feelings were locked up tight, and his smile the steel box they were locked up behind. Pretense was his bread and butter and when panicked it was the only thing he could think of to fall back on.

"The perks of being an orphan," he agreed. Probably could've phrased that better. He rubbed his forehead. "I'm... ah, free? I guess? I'm not up to much right now, just hanging out." Ducking the police, looking for explanations on why he was brought to a strange new land without his siblings. You know, the usual. "But, er, h-how are you? How are you feeling, I mean? Were you in the hospital?"

Clary shot him a look that suggested that she wasn't entertained by his reply. "Really, fruit?" Again his comment changed her expression though it made it much sadder this time. Her mother was away but that didn't mean that she was alone. Jack was alone and it was something that weighed heavily on Clary.

"I'm fine." She waved off his concern with a practiced smile pulling into place. He could probably see through it, Clary had never been a good liar. "I'm just tired and waiting to remember all the details." Drawing helped, Clary always found it easier to understand something if she imagined how she might draw it. It's something she'd done her whole life, even her diary was just a collection of drawings.

"Come over. We'll have fun. It's better than being in my house alone anyway." She paused thoughtfully. "If not today then sometime this month." She wanted to remember but something seemed of with Jack and she didn't want to push him. As far as Clary was aware, this was normal: her life, this town, those she knew. She clung to that normalcy with more force than she meant to.

She was tired of having nightmares and remembering things that didn't make any sense. She just wanted to go to an art school, become an artist and maybe one day settle down.

What's wrong with fruit? said his obliviously angelic expression, the same face he was giving this entire confusing situation. Hopefully the cameras weren't focused too closely on Clary--her stiff upper lip could use a bit more pep in it before it could pass as the real feeling.

But that was just it--Clary hadn't ever had to trick her heart to harden in order to survive, had she? Clary wasn't a cadet. Clary was a civilian. Clary waged war with brush strokes and paper, not weapons. She was... was...

Jack didn't answer for a second. Couldn't, as he was stuck with a foot in two diametrically opposed worlds. But he started to nod before he had his words in order--either way, it would be smart to play along and try to get more information about the hospital out of her, if there was any to be had. There had to be a reason he shared memories with strangers, right?

"Okay. Yeah. Let's... hang out. Catch up. Though..." And here he paused, though for a different reason. "I have a baby bird I have to check up on. Can I bring it over, too?"

Clary rolled her eyes but smiled. "Very cute." She replied to him, taking a bit of her sandwich so that she could quickly finish it. She had no interest in sticking at the tea shop and drawing now that she'd met up with Jack. As much as she enjoyed falling into her own thoughts, and as often as she did it, she had much rather hang out with him. There was something comfortable in the activity.

"Really? That sounded adorable." Her smile grew. "Oh, I decided to get a job at the shelter. So if you need help with a baby bird I bet I can help." At least if it ever got sick or anything.

She quickly finished her sandwich and then gulped down what was left of her tea. It was cold and she winched at the bitter taste that lingered on her tongue. It definately tasted better when it was hot. "Let's go." Clary pushed herself up and grabbed her sketchbook.

"Does your bird have a name or is it forever baby bird?"

"A shelter for animals?" Jack clarified uncertainly, his first thought that of a lean-to shelter with a bunch of homeless animals crammed under it. For a moment, his inexperience with such places in Rubrum overpowered his Wayward Pines memories and left him drawing a blank. Sometimes he had flashes of innate understanding, like how to use the TV remote or how to hold a drumstick in his hand--things he wouldn't normally know how to do--but not always, and not for everything.

Hm. If Clary had chosen a job at this shelter straight out of the hospital, chances were high the town officials had probably badgered this girl the same way they had him, encouraging him to settle into a house and line up income.

Domestic little lies, all of it.

Jack wondered what the truth of her circumstances were, if there were real family and friends worrying about her somewhere. Did she remember who they were? Did she have real memories that she was making the same mistake of dismissing, too? He wanted to ask, but he didn't see an opening before she was rushing through her lunch and standing.

"Er, right. Help would be good! Maybe it needs a girl to get it to settle down." He stood with her, deciding for the moment to see how this played out on its own. "He's Chirpy because that's what he does non-stop. Have you heard of a chocobo before?"

A test, a way to gauge if she was like Nyx with memories of the big, feathered creatures.

"It sounds like something from a video game." Clary admitted with a shrug. She didn't know a lot about birds so not knowing what a chocobo was didn't exactly alarm her. It was just another blank memory that she assumed would be filled given time.

There was a lot that Clary knew and a lot that she didn't know. A few memories contradicted each other but some were so outlandish and odd that Clary had difficulties believing them. It was all in her head. That's what she kept telling herself. The things she remembered looked like a creature out of a child's nightmares. It was a story with monsters and demons and broken families.

Clary didn't like it when she compared it to her life in Pines. In Pines she had her mother, who was away on business but she was safe. She had family, Aunts and extended family that she never remembered having before.

Her head tilted to the side, spilling bright hair over Clary's shoulder as she watched Jack. "You okay? You look like you were zoning out there for a bit which is usually my job."

A 'no', then. Well, that didn't mean much, only that she was fuzzy on something it'd taken Jack almost three weeks to remember himself.

"That's all right. I'm sure that stuff will all come back with your memories soon!"

Other than the drink he still had in his hand, Jack didn't have anything else to gather up, and he waited a few steps from his chair for Clary to catch up. As she did, he shook his head, smiling all the wider. "Sorry, I was just thinking how it sucks we had these accidents, you know? First me, and now you. We must have some seriously bad luck."

Something like that, sure.

Clary flashed him a warm smile. "Thanks." She always felt good around Jack and he was always there to encourage her. It was really great having a friend like him.

"I'm sure they will. I'm trying really hard not to worry about it." She admitted as they walked from the tea shop. She had her sketchpad under her arm leading the way towards where she thought she remembered his house being. She remembered staying over there a lot when she was younger, sleepovers and late night talks. She could talk to jack about anything.

"It is sort of weird isn't it?" She asked, not knowing what might have caused it.

"I don't think anyone is looking into it either."

When Clary confessed she was trying her best to relax, that was the moment Jack knew pressing her on her real memories was out of the question for the time being.

Inwardly, he sighed to himself. Taking a girl by the shoulders and trying to convince her her world view was a delicate construction held together by a hope and a prayer was better left to other members of Class Zero. Queen would have demanded Clary pay attention to the danger. Even Trey probably knew a thing or two about dredging up buried memories.

But Jack...?

When it came to the roles and responsibilities of Class Zero, he was supposed to be the fun one, the one without worries. That was his job. It was strange to think, but he supposed the job of the Jack he remembered in Wayward Pines was to be Clary's friend. For now, those two duties overlapped in not wanting to upset her unnecessarily.

"Worrying will give you wrinkles," he agreed, falling into step. "I guess once you've seen a case of amnesia, you've seen them all. The people in charge probably have better things to do..." Spoken in a town that suggested a sincere sympathy toward the authority's obviously jam-packed schedule.

"Hey!" Clary snapped out of her thoughts and pushed her shoulder against his as they walked. "Rude much." She smiled at him. "I will not get wrinkles. If this sun keeps up my freckles might come out." She wondered if they were already there, dotted across her face. She really hated her freckles.

"I'm sure if we ask they'll tell us that it isn't our problem and to let the adults handle it." She didn't sound all that happy about it.

"Anyway, tell me more about this bird. How long have you had it? I don't remember it from before."

"Uh oh. That means if you worry too much on a hot day, you'll get both and then you'll never get married!" he said with mock horror, absorbing the push without missing a beat. Thanks to whatever power this town had, Jack somehow knew Clary's war on freckles had been waging as long as the Ultima War, and it was thanks to that that he teased her. "Better stick to the one you can't do anything about."

Freckles were a permanent fixture, but as he'd been telling himself since he was seven and his parents' deaths were blowing out the walls to his sheltered little life, worries could be overcome with enough effort.

This town was putting that philosophy under a major stress test, though.

Authority figures like the sheriff who doled out the kind of bullshit answers Clary was describing about didn't help. Jack, for one, couldn't imagine anyone really had his best interests at heart when so far most adults had done little more than perpetuate the charade since he got here. Even before, the only person he could rely on for a long while had been Mother.

... And even she had left him. It was an uncomfortable thought, one he resisted entertaining. She must have had a reason. There had to be an explanation.

(The most believable kind of lies are the ones you tell yourself.)

"Er, he's sort of a... family heirloom," he said, pushing the rest of those thoughts away. He was sidling up against the truth with that comment; Clary would know he had no immediate family to speak of, adopted by Nyx, supposedly a distant relative. "His egg ended up in my box of belongings after my accident."

Clary's jaw dropped. "What?!" The word was half shouted, half gasped from her lips. "I will get married and he'll be amazing so just wait and see." She stuck out her tongue at him realizing that she was far to old to be sticking out her tongue as a retort to someone. Jack brought out that younger side of her, the little girl that had wanted to have pony rides for her sixth birthday.

"You're such a jerk." It was obvious that she didn't mean it but the statement felt as if it needed to be said.

Clary's expression softened when Jack mentioned his family. "That's nice that you have him then." His earlier teasing wasn't so important. At least, not important enough for Clary to feel happy for him. She knew that it wasn't easy and she'd do anything she could to help Jack smile.

She didn't know what was with this place, the town felt at home in her mind but also awkwardly placed among a handful of other memories. She thought about the items she'd gotten from the police station, the ones that they showed her and she claimed weren't hers. It all felt so weird.

She shook her head, chasing away the thought.

"Anyway. It's at your house right? Which is just..." She pointed as if she knew where it was that they were going. It was an easy thing and yet Clary didn't know where the memory came from. "Have you always lived in the same place?" She suddenly asked with growing curiosity.

Edited 2017-05-24 11:58 (UTC)

Jack reacted with put-on surprise, leaning back like anyone thinking he was less than innocent in all things was unfathomable. "If you say so... Just remember bikini season is right around the corner."

Ah, poor choice of words. The idea of being here into summer without his people would be enough to slap the smile off his face if he were anyone else. But he was Jack the terminally optimistic--no room for tears or moping, no sir.

Going along with the change of subject, he nodded at the street she was pointing at, which was opposite from Nyx's house. "Over there," he finished for her. Wayward Pines spun a good yarn, but there were holes in its story--and one of them was why a boy who'd grown up healthy and happy would move out of his guardian's home before he was even of legal age. But move out he had, apparently. "I'm sharing a house with some others. It kind of feels like a dorm that way, but I like that it's a fresh start since the accident. I think that's what we all need! A nice, clean break from our old lives."

Emphasis on the breaking part. Breaking out of this town wouldn't be such a bad start.

She playfully kicked his ankle when he mentioned bikini's. She wasn't fat by any means of the word but delicate. Clary wasn't looking forward to being in a bathing suit. She lacked any large curves and felt lanky and uncoordinated most of the time. Not like her mother would was beautiful in every sense of the word.

She didn't really want to think about it.

Clary followed where he was pointed and nodded. "Sounds nice. I live by myself and I don't really like it." Except that she didn't have anywhere to go and she didn't want to impose on those she knew. It felt like a loose-loose situation so Clary just dealt with living in a small house by herself.

"How many people do you life with?"

"Ow!"

Guess it's true what they say: don't get on redheads' bad sides.

"Did the nurses help you settle in?" he asked, resuming conversation, teasing around the loose edges of what the town officials might have fed this girl. Had they assigned her that house? Given her a story to go with her new identity?

In many ways, this town was one big relocation program on a scale grander than Jack had ever remotely heard of before. It was almost impressive. And daunting for the same reason.

"When they checked me out of the hospital, they gave me the address. There were two girls living there already--I guess they kind of took pity on me and let me stay." He decided to leave out the part where that charitable spirit probably had a lot to do with wanting to devour the chocobo egg he'd had in his possession at the time. "You'd know them to see them. They've both got horns, and one's tiny and tattooed. It's just us three."

Clary looked over at him as if this was the strangest thing ever. "Really?" It sounded interesting at least. "Yeah, they did. Um.. the people at the sheriff's station. They gave me a key to my house. It's weird though. I don't remember living alone. I'm adjusting." At least she's trying too. Clary was stubborn like that.

"It's good that you have people to live with. At least you're looked after." She stuck out her tongue at him. "Then I don't have to be your baby sitter."

She was trying to lighten the mood and ignore the gnawing sensation that everything that was going on was somehow wrong. She liked the normal parts of the town, how everyone seemed to know everyone else. It was a like a big family and for some reason she clung to that.

Being alone was just too lonely.

Her story stacked up against everyone else's: an accident, amnesia, a new house, a new life. Although he knew playing into the falsehoods made it harder to extricate himself like a fly caught in a sticky web of emotions that felt too big to contain, he had to feel badly for Clary. She might be like him and have no one. And here she was, looking at him like he was one of her only friends in the world.

Ironic. He didn't think he could ever relate with a civilian.

Jack followed her lead and laughed at her joke, feigning a humor he didn't really feel. "You should come over to my place if you need a place to hole up," he suggested, surprising a part of him with the offer. "Rambling around in a house by yourself sounds super depressing."

"Gee thanks." She said in an annoyed tone though there was a smile that quickly stretched over her lips. "Okay. I'll come and visit whenever I get lonely. How about that?" It meant that she'd come to see him almost every other night but she didn't think he'd mind and if he did he could deal with it or tell her.

Clary didn't really care for guessing games.

"One final question." She held up a finger, a mischievous smile teasing her lips. "You have food at your house?"

"No one should have to go through this alone, adjusting is confusing enough as it is. And you should have company around you while you're healing!"

Who was looking after Clary? He worried what would happen to someone whose memories began to trickle back, should they slip up in front of a camera. The most dangerous enemies were ones you couldn't see, couldn't fight. She needed someone watching her back. What if the police came to her door and she couldn't defend herself?

And besides, what were fake friends for? It wasn't his to begin with so it wasn't a big deal to open his home to her.

"It's a deal. Chirpy could always use an extra babysitter." Food, though... Jack couldn't help the dismal look that flashed across his face. "Uh... Well. I'd say four out of ten times we have food? Depends how hungry Ibaraki's feeling. If there's none today we can go to the store..."

He didn't think he'd ever get used to it, making plans like a civilian. Like a normal person.

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Alice looked all round the table, but there was nothing on it but tea.

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Fade after your next tag?

sure thing!