December 24th. Christmas Eve. Early Afternoon. Outside, Freedom Falls is covered in snow. The clouds have gotten darker since morning, but the predicted snowfall has yet to begin. A deep green holographic wreath adorns the sliding front door of the Redrock HQ, giving the first indication that things are a bit different than usual. Inside, decorations have been hung and placed (with only a little help from Jasper!). There's some lights hung (TyrRP
#RedrockAgency – October 8, 2020
on the wall beyond the reception, and on the desk is an electric candle bridge. The projection of Fergus that greets any arrivals has had a Christmas hat added to his fur-lined winter armor. A small plastic Christmas tree has replaced the potted plant in the waiting area, who's fate is unknown. The corridor is barren, but the company offices too have some lights strung, as well as some electric candle decorations in the windows,
accompanied by plastic plant arrangements. Upstairs, Christmas music is playing, a healthy mix of old and new classics - specifically one of the more popular curated extranet playlists. Colorful lights line the top of the corridor wall here, but there's no doubt that the rec room is by far the most decorated. In fact, it seems like -more- decorations have gone up since Jason left this morning. Lights and tinsels along the walls near the
ceiling, a holographic Christmas star with a warm, golden glow in one of the windows and electric candle bridges in the others. A holder with real (unlit) candles stands on the kitchen counter that faces the rest of the room, accompanied by a vase of red and white flowers. A plastic mistletoe hangs over the entrance to the kitchen. The small, round table usually present has been replaced with a larger one, a recent purchase. It's covered
by a red tablecloth and has another candle holder on it, this one likely a purchase from the wreath merchant at the market judging by the real plant arrangement that decorates the base. There's two bowls there as well, one with a nut mix and the other with candy canes and chocolates. The couch and armchairs have been moved form a cozy semi-circle in front of the TV, which is playing the ever-classic video fireplace in lieu of a real one.
Next to it is the centerpiece of the decorations, the actual, real Christmas tree, dwarfing its artificial cousin in the lobby. Tinsel, artificial candles and baubles adorn the tree in glittering red, silver, blue and gold, and a glowing star tops it. Underneath lies a colorful pile of presents that's already looking pretty impressive despite still awaiting more additions. It's an odd contrast to the decorations that adorn the Mercier
household. Nothing here is old, worn or handmade. None of it has history. No tangled lights or chipped angel figurines. It's all recent purchases. The start of a new chapter. Rediscovering something lost. Or maybe just building something new. Daring to relax and to live again. Daring to hope that this will be the start of a new tradition. The first Christmas of many here on Aite.
Vasquez is in the kitchen, as she has been for most of the day. She's been determined to cook the Christmas dinner herself, despite having subsisted for the better part of a decade on military rations and varren kebabs. As a result, the kitchen is absolutely cluttered. On the stove is a pot of potatoes and a pan of something liquid and sweet-smelling. In the oven is a large piece of roast lamb in progress. On the counters are a
plate of roasted almonds, several cutting boards with hams, cheeses and sausages yet to be arranged, a mysterious something covered by a cloth, and a bowl full of beaten eggs, the empty carton still next to it. Vasquez herself is dressed in a pair of grey jeans and a thin, red sweater. It might be plain but by her standards it's almost festive. With her soldier's body - scars and muscle both - covered by the sweater she
looks softer. Less like a deadly mercenary and more like an expectant mother. The decorations, music and cooking only add the odd scene. The base itself feels less like a fortress and more like a home too today. Of course, the grisly scar that covers the side of her face - oh so visible with her hair tied back - does its part to shatter the peaceful illusion, as does the sudden string of curses as the mix in the pan starts
to smell burnt and she rushes it off the plate while suppressing the urge to throw the spatula across the room. "Motherfuck-shit-dumbass-fucking-gh!"
Jason steps out of the car, a bag of last minute pick-ups held close to his body in one arm as he tugs up the collar of his jacket with his other hand to protect his neck from the wind. He finds himself taking his time as he makes his way towards the front door of the Redrock HQ. The past few years haven't exactly been kind to him, and it's left Christmas colored by a certain meloncholy. But something about this year feels
different, and he's unable to shake those memories- as fleeting as they might be- of Christmas back home. Back when Christmas mattered. They're memories that usually come with their own assorted baggage. But not today. Today is about family. New beginnings. Home. And that's what this strange, at-times frustrating backwater planet has become. As he studies the glowing holographic wreath that marks his destination, it draws
out an almost uncontainable lopsided smirk. One that he's quick to tilt towards the ground, self consciousness settling in as if someone might be able to sense his giddy excitement should they spot it. The warmth of the reception is welcome and he's quick to confirm Vasquez' location with Fergus before navigating upstairs, that stupid grin still plastered across his face as he looks over the additions Vasquez and Jasper have
made to the base's decorations since he left this morning. Vasquez' expletive-ridden outburst is heard as he crests the top of the stairs and he suppresses a snicker as he enters the rec room. "Sounds like it's going well." he announces his presence as he comes to a stop just inside the doorway, brows furrowing as he looks over the room, quickly distracted. "Shit-... You really went all out, huh?" he mutters
Vasquez is busy prodding at the burnt, sugary mixture in the pan as Jason enters, trying to determine whether it can be salvaged, but her scowl fades as she hears Jason's voice, his distracted question drawing out a faint, almost embarrassed grin. She glances his way, and then out across the transformed room. "...too much?" she asks with a faint grimace, looking back to Jason with a frown, spatula still in hand.
Jason continues to scan across the changes made to the room, almost forgetting to answer for a moment before shaking the distractions away. "No." he says with a shake of his head, lopsided grin resurfacing as he turns his focus to the woman across the room. "It's-... uhh-..." he stammers, a bit of his own embarrassment slipping in, causing him to attempt to reign in his smile, "...it's perfect." He cements his opinion by casting
Vasquez relaxes a bit, smile resurfacing, and growing wide in response to Jason's reaction. His final comment elicits a couple of slightly awkward nods. "Right. Yeah. Might as well go all out, right?" she agrees with a chuckle. There's a nervous energy to her, almost reminiscent of their wedding day. "She deserves a real Christmas after everything. We-... we all do." she says, going quiet towards the end and shrugging. She goes
silent, and her gaze sweeps across the room again before she turns back towards the stove, grabbing the pan and starting to pour the contents into the bowl with the beaten eggs, eyebrows furrowing in concentration, as if it might explode if she makes a wrong move.
Jason gives a nod of support to her initial question, casting one last glance about the room before moving to set his bag on the table. The reminder of just how much this last year has taken out of all of them tempers his smile and he offers a quiet, "...We sure as hell do..." in agreement that's hot on the heels of a deep breath. He tugs off his gloves and shoves them into the pockets of his jacket before doing away with that as
well. Normally he'd probably just toss it onto the couch until he makes a trip back to their room, but given the effort Vasquez has put into everything, that almost seems blasphemous. So instead he finds himself neatly placing it over the backrest of one of the chairs at the table. His attire isn't going to fool anyone into thinking he has any formal dinner plans for the evening, but at least he's put some effort into it,
rather than trouncing around in his usual work attire. Just a pair of simple bluejeans and a dark blue button up shirt, unbuttoned over a white t-shirt. His usual combat boots have been replaced by a pair of slightly more fashionable and less utility-driven black boots, the tops of which are tucked beneath his jeans. He pulls a six-pack of beer from the bag and starts towards the kitchen to stow it away. He's stowed away
plenty of gross, expensive, stolen Cross-booze, but a cursory glance through the fridge this morning revealed that they were out of beer! A quick stop at the market on his way back from the Jack rectified that, however.
Despite Vasquez removing several items from the fridge for cooking, it still feels full to the brim. Rice pudding, egg nog, champagne, vegetables, condiments and even more cheese crowd with the stolen blue wine and the usual contents, which are also more numerous than usual.
Vasquez tears her attention away from the pan after finishing the pouring putting it back down on a cool stoveplate and glancing towards Jason. Upon noticing him coming to the kitchen she steps over and stops him with a hand to his chest, a grin tugging at one corner of her mouth as she points up at the mistletoe and leans in for a quick kiss.
Jason has a bit of a stutter step as Vasquez cuts off his entry to the kitchen area of the rec room, initially thinking she's about to bump into him in some mid-cooking distraction. But when she halts him with a hand to his chest he gives a glance down towards her hand, eyebrow cocked, then up towards the mistletoe. As he spots the mistletoe that stupid grin of his returns and he gives a little snicker before leaning in and
pressing his smile against her lips. His free hand moves to her side, resting there as he lingers for a moment, smile only growing as he pulls back. "Tradition, right?" he asks with a shrug of his shoulders, as if to imply they have no say in the matter.
Vasquez is grinning widely as she pulls back, a hum of agreement sounding before she steps out of Jason's way. She gives his outfit an approving look-over, but then her smile starts to fade. "How... did it go?" she asks, almost reluctantly. Her eyebrows furrow as she studies him, but she soon remembers that she's in the middle of cooking and turns back to the stove while awaiting his response, checking on the potatoes before
Jason continues on his way towards the fridge once Vasquez steps aside. He looks over the contents of the packed fridge and sets the beer on the counter in order to free up his hands so he can Tetris a spot for the six-pack to go. The question only gets half of his attention at first as he finds himself preoccupied with with a container of eggnog. Been a long time since he's had eggnog. "Uhh-... I guess it went about as well as we
could expect.." he says, taking a moment to remove the cap and give the liquid a few quick sniffs. Yep. That's eggnog. He furrows his brows briefly, wondering what exactly he was expecting as he leans over to place the container back in the fridge and the six pack of beer along with it.
Vasquez nods slightly, offering no verbal response at first as she frowns at the datapad. Soon she moves back to the bowl and starts to stir the contents. "It'd be good to have an answer by the end of the holidays. A starship is the kind of thing that's gonna impact my planning for the next months... we've got a lot on our plate as it is." she says, slipping into work-mode as she beats the batter into submission.
Jason closes the door of the fridge and turns his attention back to Vasquez, shifting slightly to lean against the counter. He silently nods along to Vasquez' comments, gaze turning towards the floor. "I told her that we'd send the proposal over so she could... discuss it with her crew and-... uhh-... get back to us when they've come to a decision..." he says. Well aware that's probably not the sort of assurance that Vasquez was
hoping for- especially considering he seems to have left the ball entirely in Lucy's court- he draws in a deep breath. This was his idea, after all. Last thing he wanted was for it to become a headache for Vasquez. Another source of stress. She has enough of that already. "Look-..." he says, blue eyes rising to settle back on her, "...she may not have broken into tears and thanked us for saving her sinking business, but she
also didn't throw me out. Or... slug me." he continues, leveling a cocky grin on her that he pairs with a dismissive shrug. "So, you know... As far as I'm concerned, stronger partnerships have been made from less." he settles on. It's not intended to be a cheap shot. Far from it. That right hook was a long time ago. And look where it led them. Lighthearted teasing aside, his smile shifts towards something a bit more sincere.
Vasquez remains focused on the bowl as Jason speaks, although his teasing causes her shoulders to stiffen slightly and her stirring to increase a bit in intensity as she lets out an uncomfortable noise. His final addition prompts her to pause and look his way, the internal struggle not to take over the negotiations written all over her face. She rolls her shoulders and lets out a heavy sigh. She forces herself to nod. "Okay.
Just... keep me updated." she requests, before turning her attention back to the cooking, leaning down to glance at the meat in the oven before moving the pan back onto the hot plate and pouring the contents of the bowl into it, that focused scowl back on her face.
Jason tries to muster up as serious of an expression as he can and fires off a single, sharp nod in hope of alleviating her obvious concerns. "You got it." For a few moments after, he remains where he is, merely watching as Vasquez does battle with Christmas dinner. It makes short work of his serious expression, drawing the smile right back out. Eventually he sidles up behind her, one hand wrapping lazily across her midsection
from behind as he peers at the stove from overtop her and presses a kiss against the back of her head. "Food smells good." he comments idly.
Vasquez has moved on to stirring the contents of the pan when she feels Jason's arm wrap around her. She lets out a chuckle, intense expression softening as she leans back a little against him. She tries and fails to suppress the smile brought out by his words. "That's something I guess. Not making any promises on the taste." she mutters as she continues to stir the contents of the pan. "Not like I've done this before. I... think
the bread turned out alright, though." she says with a nod towards the cloth-covered object. "Taste it, if you want." she adds, as if it's an afterthough, although the faint hint of tension in her voice hints otherwise.
Jason gives Vasquez a quick squeeze, the bottom half of his face pressed against her hair as he idly watches her stir. The mention of bread causes a perk in his brow. He lifts his head slightly, chin now resting against her hair as he turns his attention towards the indicated object. "You baked bread..?" he asks through a smirk, a mild hint of disbelief in his tone as he reaches out to pluck the cloth away.
Vasquez shrugs a bit awkwardly. "Yeah, so what?" she mutters, shooting Jason a scowl in a half-hearted attempt at hiding her embarrassment. As promised, under the cloth is a fresh loaf of Christmas sweet bread, still warm from the oven. One of the ends is missing, presumably from Vasquez trying it. A bread knife is on the board as well. It actually smells good. Vasquez watches him from the corner of her eye as she continues to
Jason shifts in place, remaining pressed up against Vasquez as he works around her- likely being an impediment to her cooking- to pull the cutting board of bread onto a free spot on the stove and slice a piece of bread for himself. "Nothing!" he's quick to fire back, lingering grin audible in his voice. "Just-..." he shrugs against her, struggling a little but too stubborn to move, "...look at us. All domesticated and shit." With
a bit of effort he manages to get a thin- admittedly lopsided- slice of bread. "Christmas dinner. Sweaters. Decorations." he continues to tease as he reaches across Vasquez to feed himself over her opposite shoulder. "Baking bread?!" he tsks, "We're cultured as fuck." he adds through a mouthful of bread.
Vasquez grumbles quietly as Jason decides to be as disruptive as possible while cutting up a slice of bread, nudging him with her shoulder when he gets in the way. "Careful with the-... hey!" she exclaims as he almost pulls the cutting board onto a hot plate - and almost dips his elbow in her pan. She trails off into a beleaguered sigh when he finally manages to retrieve a slice of bread. His words elicit a snort, annoyance and
embarrassment giving way to a grin and, at the final, muffled addition, a snickered "Damn right." She does her best to split her attention between the pan and Jason as she reaches back to scratch his neck with one hand. The bread is... not great. It's not terrible either. The taste is fine. Sweet, with bits of fruit in it. It's more than a little dry, however. When she realizes that he's tasting it she pauses, not
Jason falls quiet as he chews, brows furrowing as if he's some sort of career taste tester. There's a faint sound of the smooth polymer of his fingers rubbing together as he rids them of crumbs, his other arm snaking back around Vasquez now that he's finished cutting his slice. A few nods of his head follow and he smacks his lips. "God damn. I married a chef and didn't even know it!" he says. Obviously he was going to praise it
regardless. But, truth be told, what in the hell does he know about the quality of breads? He's not some fancy-pants connoisseur of bread! Most of the bread he's had has been out of bags that get tied shut with a piece of plastic that he always manages to lose, only to find weeks later, camouflaged against the color of the counter. 'Not terrible' is a step up. "You really made this...?" he asks, a playful bit of disbelief
Vasquez lets out an uncharacteristically flustered half-chuckle, a big grin crossing her lips despite the fact that Jason's virtually obligated to compliment it. "I-... I did, yeah. Should've seen the kitchen this morning. It was a fucking mess." she admits. It's not exactly orderly now, but it's nothing compared to the earlier mess of flour and bowls. It seems genuinely important to her that he likes it, and she relaxes back
against him, pausing her stirring for a moment as she closes her eyes, which are looking a bit moist. Her hand drops to the arm around her midsection, seeking out his synthetic hand and giving it a squeeze.