(no subject)

[acts_of_gord]

The crew of the Borealis rescued an enormous number of people from the Combine geneworm, and distributed many (if not most) of them back to the areas they wanted to return to. Some of them stayed, to work with the specific Resistance group that had saved them or to seek opportunities elsewhere of which they were yet unaware.

One of them, a woman from Ecuador, stayed because after sixteen years of Combine rule, she finally had the opportunity to put her old skills to use. Specifically, to put them to use in the Borealis' galley, as there had been no room in a Combine-dominated Earth for the sous-chef of the finest restaurant in the city of Quito.

It's all well and good in theory but in practice it means that dinner's gonna be an hour or so late today, since Ms. Soliz is turning the place upside down. Gordon figured he'd creep out to Milliways to get something to eat in the meantime. His miniature pizza (he hasn't had pizza in longer than he can remember) arrives with a fortune cookie for no reason that he can discern; shrugging, he cracks it open.

Life is a verb.

"... uh huh."


[plot: Misfortune Cookies]

Comments

[not_his_pa]

William looks over from his coffee and fortune cookie at the other man,

"Sir, do you know why the cookies have sayings in them?"

[acts_of_gord]

"They're fortune cookies," Gordon says, glancing up. "They're supposed to be predictions of the future, or something. I don't know. Usually they just don't make much sense."

[not_his_pa]

"But why bother puttin' them in a cookie?"

It seems like a stupid place for a piece of paper.

[acts_of_gord]

"Someone made up the idea to sell more cookies at his restaurant, I think," Gordon says vaguely. His knowledge of culinary history is not much to report on but he seems to recall hearing that once. "Or something, anyway. It's supposed to be a Chinese idea, but they really invented it in California."

[not_his_pa]

"Oh, thank you, sir. Kind of confused me when I got one with my coffee."

[acts_of_gord]

"That's all right. Normally they only show up after a Chinese meal. These are kind of weird." He shrugs. "Looks pretty harmless, though. What'd yours say?"

[not_his_pa]

"Chinese are workin' on the railroad not far from me, but never thought they made somethin' like this. It said: You are never selfish with your advice or your help. Sounds nice and all but ain't true."

[acts_of_gord]

"I'm pretty sure it was an American who just happened to own a share in a Chinese restaurant," Gordon says. "Most Chinese people I know have better sense than this."

He holds up the 'life is a verb' slip of paper for inspection.

"Doesn't even make sense."

[not_his_pa]

"No, it don't, but seems like everyone's been gettin' them today."

[acts_of_gord]

"Huh," says Gordon, eyes narrowing. "Is anybody behaving strangely?"

Last time free food came out of nowhere, there was... weirdness to follow.

[not_his_pa]

"Don't know, there's that flu goin' around that makes folk think they're someone else."

[acts_of_gord]

"That's different. That hit the Bar last year, too," Gordon says. "I remember having that. These... well, we'd be seeing something by now if they caused anything, probably."

[not_his_pa]

"I guess so, just seems to be a message and nothin' else."

[vance_prime]

"...no it isn't."

(It's totally not rude to read over your fiancé's shoulder. Shut up.)

[acts_of_gord]

"A board game, maybe, but not a verb," Gordon agrees. He puts the paper down and turns in his seat to face Alyx. "Hi there."

[vance_prime]

"Hi." She wraps her arms around him as best she can given her bulging abdomen. "I hope your day's going better than mine..."

[acts_of_gord]

"Pretty well so far, so long as I stay out of Ms. Soliz's way," Gordon says. "Tongs are almost as dangerous as a crowbar. How're you doing?"

[vance_prime]

Alyx sags into the chair next to Gordon with an enormous sigh. "I'm just tired, more than anything," she says. "There's a million little things that need doing and everyone comes to me to get 'em done, and I'm just so tired of it all..."

[acts_of_gord]

"Send the ones you can to me," Gordon says. "People need to know that I'm here for more than just caving in Combine skulls."

[vance_prime]

"Okay. Fine. Here." She pulls a creased, crumpled, barely legible sheet of legal paper out of her pocket and all but shoves it at him. "Knock yourself out."

[acts_of_gord]

Gordon nods and starts going over the list. After a moment he edges to one side and indicates that Alyx should sit down next to him.

He can read the list in one hand and work on her neck and shoulders with the other, right?

[vance_prime]

Maybe he can and maybe he can't. But Alyx is more than willing to support him in the attempt.

"Mmmm..." she lets her eyelids flutter closed.

[acts_of_gord]

Gordon starts murmuring something that might be a little too low to hear, at least for most people. Alyx, however, is close enough to note that while the tone is reassuring, it's mostly comments on the list- logistical rearrangements to be made, a dispute over training priorities that needs to be hashed out, two complaints from Magnusson about a Peruvian mathematician who just won't shut up, one complaint from the Peruvian about how Magnusson is doing it wrong... "Remind me to give them both medals, by the way. This should be entertaining."

[vance_prime]

"Not sure if 'entertaining' is the goal we want to shoot for," Alyx murmurs back, but there's a faint smile on her face as she says it.

[acts_of_gord]

"As long as nobody tries sabotaging anybody else, we can probably spin this to our advantage," Gordon says. "Scientific rivalries either explode in your face or yield incredible advances from trying to prove the other side wrong."