Tweak says, "Danny Williams is Meaty Pizza"
Day 3 | Friendly City Sharon Carter Day 3 | The City | Low When everybody knows your name, but you don't know theirs, and what a week huh (oh, it's wednesday). ⚠ I made it sad ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 8:04 AM "Good morning, Sharon!" It was embarrassing how close she came to spilling her coffee as she turned to look at the person who had addressed her. A mild looking woman who was shorter than she was, wider than she was, and dressed in a simple sweater cardigan set with a pair of bland looking khaki trousers. She looked utterly unoffensive, utterly forgettable, and wildly friendly, and also Sharon had no idea who she was. Then she saw the badge name on the woman's shirt. Of course, she worked here. A co-worker. Apparently the City was filling in details for the people she worked with. Sharon offered a quick smile back in return, but she couldn't read the name from here, so she hoped a friendly 'good morning' would suffice. 10:22 AM She'd spent most of the morning wandering through the exhibitions. For the start, she had no idea what she should even be purchasing, but also she was curious about the museum itself. Currently she found herself in the history wing, staring at objects that looked familiar, but with dates and descriptions that did not. Letter. C. 1453 sent to Lt. John Smith from an unspecified lover during the first great civil war. Provides an example of the type of personal letter allowed through censors to the front lines. "Sharon, hello!" If she'd been holding coffee it would have been spilled, but she wasn't and so she caught herself and turned around. He was lean, tall, handsome in the way that her Freshman English professor had been, a little bit tired, probably balancing binging television with writing their dissertation with grading student papers. They weren't wearing a badge. They had a - map of the museum. She glanced to see if she had her name badge on, but she didn't. "Um, hello, how are you?" "Oh, I've been doing well, you know how it is! Such a lovely day, I was thinking we'd go to the park and enjoy the sunshine later. If you get a chance you should join us!" Sharon was pretty certain it had been raining when she'd come into work, but maybe it had cleared up, regardless. "I think unfortunately my shift runs late today, but it is very good to see you." A beat, and she added. "Again." She had not seen him before, in fact. "Another time then?" It was a question, but he had stepped forward, put a hand on her elbow, and he was already moving on without waiting for a specific time or date, and Sharon decided she needed a cup of coffee. 10:59 AM She did have a cup of coffee in her hand, but the third time was the charm. "Good morning, Sharon!" She turned around with a smile that felt more stepford than any she'd ever summoned that week she'd actually been a fifties housewife. The smile faltered slightly, but she saved it because the man who was smiling back at her seemed so genuinely happy to see her. It was a resemblance anyway, the hair was blonde, not gray, there was no moustache but something about the height and the build and the way he was carrying himself… "Good morning," she offered in return. "Here for coffee?" "Just my usual," he raised a hand that had a to-go cup in it. It occurred to Sharon that she was deeply grateful that she was not a barista in this crazy week. "There's nothing quite like it," she smiled, and then as if she might actually know this man she leaned forward. "I even splurged and went for the croissant this morning too." His blue eyes twinkled. "Good for you, you deserve it." "I rather think I do," she murmured - but it wasn't really for him. Which was good because his eyes had already focused on something across the room and as if he were entranced he started towards it. "Have a good day," she offered, although it didn't really pull his attention back, and she hd to just watch him walk away. 5:43 PM She had promised Loki wine and Pad Thai. It seemed likely, though, that the Pad Thai was more like Rice Noodle Curry from Spicy Noodles by the museum. It was really bad, she thought, but then again, it wasn't any more or less generic than the rest of the place, than the museum exhibits that she'd wandered around most of the afternoon. With any luck the food would be alright, despite the generic sounding recipe titles. She ordered three different things, adding rice, and figuring that if something was truly bad, they could dump it right away. Hopefully the generalizations didn't extend further than the names on the menu board. She'd already bought the wine, which was tucked inside her handbag, and she stood to the side, waiting for the order to be made. The museum reminded her of placeholders.The whole thing reminded her of placeholders. Like - there were things there, but someone had decorated out a movie set. There were objects and they were given information placards, but none of it actually made any sense. But it wasn't as obviously done as it had been the week they were in Schmigadoon - there Derleth had operated as if it were in a soundstage. That week just made her think of Mobius. How they'd been mistaken for a married couple, how she'd pushed the whole notion off - ended up wasting weeks. It was maybe a really bad idea to go to see Loki tonight, she might just end up being a sad drunk. "Sharon! Good evening!" "Do I know you?" The question was asked with a vehemence that the older woman standing beside her likely did not deserve. "Mrs. Smith dear." Mrs. Smith blinked. The question had been answered nearly automatically, but now it seemed as if she didn't quite know how to continue on with the scene. "Good evening, Mrs. Smith," although the words came out so forced that anyone with any sense of emotional intelligence would have known she didn't consider it a good evening at all. "Yes, dear, lovely to see you." With no further explanation about how they knew each other Sharon was relieved when the food was pushed towards her on the counter. "Indeed," she offered, and reached for it. "Bye now." She was an archivist. It wasn't like she even worked out front in the museum that much. How on earth did so many people know her?
It was embarrassing how close she came to spilling her coffee as she turned to look at the person who had addressed her. A mild looking woman who was shorter than she was, wider than she was, and dressed in a simple sweater cardigan set with a pair of bland looking khaki trousers. She looked utterly unoffensive, utterly forgettable, and wildly friendly, and also Sharon had no idea who she was.
Then she saw the badge name on the woman's shirt. Of course, she worked here. A co-worker. Apparently the City was filling in details for the people she worked with.
Sharon offered a quick smile back in return, but she couldn't read the name from here, so she hoped a friendly 'good morning' would suffice.
Letter. C. 1453 sent to Lt. John Smith from an unspecified lover during the first great civil war. Provides an example of the type of personal letter allowed through censors to the front lines.
"Sharon, hello!"
If she'd been holding coffee it would have been spilled, but she wasn't and so she caught herself and turned around.
He was lean, tall, handsome in the way that her Freshman English professor had been, a little bit tired, probably balancing binging television with writing their dissertation with grading student papers. They weren't wearing a badge. They had a - map of the museum. She glanced to see if she had her name badge on, but she didn't.
"Um, hello, how are you?"
"Oh, I've been doing well, you know how it is! Such a lovely day, I was thinking we'd go to the park and enjoy the sunshine later. If you get a chance you should join us!"
Sharon was pretty certain it had been raining when she'd come into work, but maybe it had cleared up, regardless. "I think unfortunately my shift runs late today, but it is very good to see you." A beat, and she added. "Again." She had not seen him before, in fact.
"Another time then?"
It was a question, but he had stepped forward, put a hand on her elbow, and he was already moving on without waiting for a specific time or date, and Sharon decided she needed a cup of coffee.
"Good morning, Sharon!"
She turned around with a smile that felt more stepford than any she'd ever summoned that week she'd actually been a fifties housewife.
The smile faltered slightly, but she saved it because the man who was smiling back at her seemed so genuinely happy to see her.
It was a resemblance anyway, the hair was blonde, not gray, there was no moustache but something about the height and the build and the way he was carrying himself…
"Good morning," she offered in return. "Here for coffee?"
"Just my usual," he raised a hand that had a to-go cup in it.
It occurred to Sharon that she was deeply grateful that she was not a barista in this crazy week.
"There's nothing quite like it," she smiled, and then as if she might actually know this man she leaned forward. "I even splurged and went for the croissant this morning too."
His blue eyes twinkled. "Good for you, you deserve it."
"I rather think I do," she murmured - but it wasn't really for him. Which was good because his eyes had already focused on something across the room and as if he were entranced he started towards it. "Have a good day," she offered, although it didn't really pull his attention back, and she hd to just watch him walk away.
She ordered three different things, adding rice, and figuring that if something was truly bad, they could dump it right away. Hopefully the generalizations didn't extend further than the names on the menu board. She'd already bought the wine, which was tucked inside her handbag, and she stood to the side, waiting for the order to be made.
The museum reminded her of placeholders.The whole thing reminded her of placeholders. Like - there were things there, but someone had decorated out a movie set. There were objects and they were given information placards, but none of it actually made any sense. But it wasn't as obviously done as it had been the week they were in Schmigadoon - there Derleth had operated as if it were in a soundstage.
That week just made her think of Mobius. How they'd been mistaken for a married couple, how she'd pushed the whole notion off - ended up wasting weeks.
It was maybe a really bad idea to go to see Loki tonight, she might just end up being a sad drunk.
"Sharon! Good evening!"
"Do I know you?" The question was asked with a vehemence that the older woman standing beside her likely did not deserve.
"Mrs. Smith dear."
Mrs. Smith blinked. The question had been answered nearly automatically, but now it seemed as if she didn't quite know how to continue on with the scene.
"Good evening, Mrs. Smith," although the words came out so forced that anyone with any sense of emotional intelligence would have known she didn't consider it a good evening at all.
"Yes, dear, lovely to see you."
With no further explanation about how they knew each other Sharon was relieved when the food was pushed towards her on the counter.
"Indeed," she offered, and reached for it. "Bye now."
She was an archivist. It wasn't like she even worked out front in the museum that much. How on earth did so many people know her?
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