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Henry's in his room. He's trying to settle, trying not to think, and has completely missed the announcement because his communicator is, as it always is, tucked in a drawer in his desk.

He's at least finally found a book to read and there's a spider crawling along the top of it as well as spiders in their webs in each corner of his room.

Trixie's no barbarian -- she knocks at the door and waits, arms crossed in front of her as she tries (and fails) not to look incredibly nervous.

"Henry! You in?"

The knock startles him enough that he blinks and puts his book away almost immediately, moving the spider to his desk. Did he miss a curfew? He's been showing up. He's been - doing what he should.

And now there's this unfamiliar voice.

He stands up and opens the door for her. "Can I help you?" he wonders, giving her a pleasant sort of smile.

Okay. This is...pleasant? This is okay. She can do this. "Evenin'. Didn't mean to disturb, but ah...suppose you didn't hear the announcement?"

It's a fair-fucking-assumption based on his reaction to her.

"Ah, no. Apologies. I don't typically check the network. What was the announcement?"

He leans against the doorframe.

Yay.

"You and me -- we've been paired."

That gets a flat look.

All pleasantries gone.

"So you're replacing Dorian?"

There it is. Trixie frowns softly.

"We both know there's no replacing Dorian. And no, I'm not a temporary one. I'm your warden."

He's equal parts confused and annoyed, but stuffs it all down.

"Ah, so you have my - file." He's well aware of what could possibly be in it.

"I do," she tells him. There's no lying about that point. "Ain't read it yet, thought I'd at least come and meet you first."

"Why didn't you read it before you came? That seems - irresponsible."

He steps back from the door.

Because she's not a good reader, Henry! Not that she's going to let him know that.

"Dorian says you go into people's minds. You got powers."

"I can, yes. Only if they consent. Dorian has."

He stands up a bit straighter. "It isn't a secret. I assume Tim has told people what happened on the Brigantine. If he hasn't, then - " He grins. "He's more cowardly than I anticipated."

"He hadn't mentioned publicly. Lucky fucking you."

She's read the ledger, at least. She did the second she realized Dorian had been paired up with him, nosy person that she is.

Trixie nods towards the inside of his cabin. "Can I come in?" she asks, but she's already pushing inside.

"Of course." He doesn't really see the need for his own space or possessions.

He moves out of the way to let her, closing the door behind them so that his spiders don't try and make a break for it.

He picks up one from his desk and places it above the door.

She almost mentions his infestation, until she remembers that Taylor controls all the insects aboard the Barge. And these are definitely not hers.

Trixie tries not let her skin crawl.

"Like spiders, huh? Where'd you get these?"

"Dorian requested them for me. They're - lovely, aren't they?" He gives her a smile. "Don't worry. You're perfectly safe. If I let them hurt someone, then I'm certain they'll be taken away."

"Weren't worried about being safe," she tells them, keeping a perfectly reasonable distance from them. "More thinking...why spiders in the first place?"

"Because they're the perfect predator. They bring order to the natural world. Their webs look like chaos, but there's precision to them."

He looks up at one in the corner.

Oh fuck, oh god, oh jesus, oh sweet mary and joseph

He's fucking nuts.

"Uh...huh. I guess...they're impressive. Graceful even."

"I suppose they are."

His head hurts. It pounds in a rhythm he hates. "Now. If there's nothing else..."

No, there's a hell of a lot more she needs to know, but she can tell she's overstayed her welcome.

"Where are you working? Custodial?"

"Yes," he tells her. "It is where I am best suited at the moment. Which you would know, if you had read my file."

The last comes out in a bit of a snap.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Save it for when I'm actually bothering you. I'll see you at tomorrow's breakfast shift -- you're gonna help me scrub potatoes."

He sits down on the bed with his book. "As you wish," he says, the edges of irrational annoyance straining at the normally pleasant words.

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wishiwasatree - 2022-10-01 23:58 (UTC) - Expand