sixthiterationlogs | Defying Orders

WHO: Felicity Smoak
WHERE: The Village
WHEN: Sept 8-9
OPEN TO: Everyone in the village
WARNINGS: There should be none

It had been a couple of weeks since she and Oliver had pulled themselves out of the fountain in the middle of, well. Nowhere. A week had gone by before Oliver had let her leave the woods and moved them into a house on the outskirts of, well, nowhere. The packs they'd been given didn't give much in the ways of clues and Oliver didn't want Felicity showing herself to too many people unless it was necessary and he hadn't yet deemed it necessary.

By the beginning of the third week, Felicity herself deemed it necessary.

A lack of technology was one thing, but short of nagging Oliver into submission (not likely), all she could do was wait until he'd left to scout yet another something in another place and then walk out the front door. She knew he didn't expect her to do it, figured she'd still be taking him at his word that hiding away from everyone who might have answers would be best for them, but she was done with that.

Done hiding. She wanted more answers, more interaction, and figured that at least if someone killed her, at least there'd be an end to the wondering.

So, it was about ten o'clock in the morning on a Saturday when a woman in (mostly) white scrubs makes her way into town and starts looking around. She's not new, but she certainly looks it.

[OOC: Feel free to run into Felicity anywhere your character might be!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

At the general greeting, Felicity feels a very quick jolt of 'this was stupid, Oliver's going to kill you' before she looks up into the sky, lowers her gaze to the man in front of her, and smiles with a quick nod of her head.

"Looks like it," she agrees, then her smile falters. "Like morning, I mean. Because you said--" She shakes her head and clears her throat. "Sorry, bad joke." Looking him over, she motions to his armful of wood and asks, "Busy?"

"Not... very?" It's a task that needs doing, but not a task on a particularly specific timeline. Bodhi's had months to get used to the level of technology here, the idea that if jobs aren't done by human hands they just don't happen and the consequences can be very unpleasant. Those months haven't been enough to get him to focus on doing chores by a timeline that'd make sense to most people. "I mean, um, nothing I couldn't put down..."

"Oh, no. No, I just--" She pauses because she feels like maybe she hinted at asking him to do something and she didn't mean to, so she flashes another smile and finishes lamely. "I didn't mean to interrupt."

There was a pause before she focused more on what he was carrying rather than just the fact that he was carrying it. "I'm just looking around. Firewood?"

"Needs a lot of keeping up," he says amiably, not the least bit offended. He's too socially awkward himself to every mind these things if there doesn't seem to be any ill intent. Nothing's ever straightforward in the valley. "And I'm pretty lousy at getting the oven going, so..." A lot of kindling was necessary, was all.

"Yeah, I've noticed that the technology around here is." She really was working on both the social awkwardness and the blunt way she had of saying things. Also the babbling. So, she stuck with, "Lacking."

There was clearly more to say on the subject, but she kept her mouth shut. She didn't want to alienate any possible allies she might have, or actual friends she might make, mostly because when (not if) Oliver found out she'd hied off to the village separate from the one he'd declared their base camp, she wanted to have something to show for it.

"I'm Felicity. Felicity Smoak. And for the record, I'm not sure I could get an oven going, either."

"You'd think it would get easier with practice, but maybe that, um, that could be for people who... already knew something about starting fires?" He shrugs sheepishly. "Bodhi Rook." He feels a bit dim for not thinking to introduce himself already--you are supposed to do that when you start talking--but it's a lapse he commits a lot. The number of introductions necessary in a small village constantly inundated with strangers you had to know for safety's sake just added up.

"I'm not really a camper," she tells him, hands up in a surrender motion. "Computers were more my thing, so ovens?"

He gets a shrug, then a nod with a smile when he finally introduces himself. She doesn't recognize the name from anything she's ever read on the regular or dark web, which doesn't mean a thing for someone who clearly isn't used to spending a lot of time in the woods. But, as he's admitted, neither has he, so Felicity isn't sure what the entire deal with the little village is.

"How long have you been here?"

"Um, more than half a year, I'm pretty sure? The calendars don't really... Long enough." He's not exactly one of the veterans, or at least he doesn't feel like one. But he's certainly had enough time and experience that he should be able to point newbies in the right direction. Or... in a specific direction. There isn't really a right one, but he can helpfully point at the inn or the hot spring, if someone's interested. "I'm also better at, well, computers, I guess, but I was a pilot, so... Not, um, not useful skills."

"What kind of pilot?" She's thinking fixed wing commercial airliners or maybe jets... he could be a fighter pilot with his body type, she thinks. "Because aren't pilots taught survival skills or something? Or is that just Army pilots."

She's half teasing, trying to make it a more light-hearted conversation, something she's not sure she has in her, to be honest. It's been a long few weeks and meeting new people is a good thing. It takes the stress off of feeling like she's in it along - or with one other person. Constantly watching their backs.

"And now you can almost light an oven. That's useful."

"Cargo," he says, hoping that puts paid to any hopeful speculation about him being able to do useful things. People's expectations should be kept very limited. Just for everybody's peace of mind. "I washed out of the combat track right away. And, um, if there's a way to use being really good at reading charts here, I... haven't found it."

Defying Orders

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