nexus_crossings | +1 Cylon to the Nexus

+1 Cylon to the Nexus

There is a man standing near the vending machines in the Plaza, dressed in a well-tailored, peacock blue suit. He looks like he could get you an excellent rate on your second mortgage, but you'd be wise to double-check the fine print before you sign anything. As he fixes himself a cup of coffee, he glances periodically at the people who pass by, his expression perfectly neutral. Although the more astute might pick up on the way he tugs at the cuffs of his sleeves impatiently, as if wishing he were somewhere else.

Finally, he sighs. "Okay. Listen up. Adia asked me to come here because she thought it'd be good for me to make some friends, so if you see her, you can tell her that we chatted and save yourself the actual trouble. All right? I'm sure we're all very busy people."

He takes a sip from his to-go cup and grimaces. "On second thought, can anyone tell me where I can get a decent coffee around here? I can't believe she's been drinking this stuff for the past three years.."

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The preference of meat does not come as a surprise. The condiments for his burger do, however, and Caspar doesn't bother to keep the grimace off his face. He's still learning to read the alien's body language, but he's pretty sure Faris is anticipating that as a response.

Better to move on to a food item that doesn't put him off his coffee. "Yeah, it's made from apples. Adia likes it a lot." In case he doesn't trust Caspar's drink recommendation.

Caspar's paranoia about the trustworthiness of his advice is misplaced, but Faris feels all the more confident knowing that Adia Costas enjoys it as well. "She has not yet led me astray. I will have a cider, then."

He would think fondly of learning to toast marshmallows over a fire, if not for the chaos that enveloped the party soon after. Even if it is the smallest tragedy to have such happy memories ruined by worse events, he still regrets the loss.

"Do you prefer hot beverages?" he asks curiously. Coffee, now cider... there are others, he is fairly certain.

That gets a brief smile out of him. "What else has she introduced you to?" he asks, blissfully ignorant of the Halloween party and the horrific events that followed.

"It's the time of year for it," he replies. "I don't need it to warm up, but it's comforting anyway." He tugs primly at the cuffs of his jacket sleeves, not yet troubled by the distinct chill of winter coming to the Nexus. "I don't need the caffeine in the coffee, either, but I can still appreciate a good cup."

"At our last meeting, she taught me how to roast marshmallows over flame," Faris says, wishing that that had been the extent of the excitement that evening. "She also spoke of a food called ambrosia that I would be willing to taste if the occasion presents itself."

The cafe is just ahead, most signs of the party cleaned up and removed from view. There is a strange little lantern that was not present before, not that Faris had noticed anyway, but it seems less important than confirming that the cafe is open for business. "Flavor is one of life's pleasures," the K'da agrees, pulling the door open with a forepaw. "One needs not gain any other benefit to enjoy a meal. Although it helps," he adds in mild amusement.

The laugh that comes out of his mouth is unexpected, even to Caspar. "Roast marshmallows? Is that a thing here?" How easy to imagine his girlfriend teaching such a sweet, human activity to her alien friend. "She must have been so happy, it's not like we could do that on the Chiron... and oh, yeah. Ambrosia. She's told me about it, it's a popular dish on Leonis..."

One she can't have again, not the way her mother made it. The guilt gnaws at him, harder to stifle this time. It wasn't his decision to blow up the Colonies, he reminds himself. He didn't even know he was a Cylon this time.

The café is a welcome distraction. It seems nice enough anyway. He pays no mind to the lantern, either. His mind is different from a human's, but not bent towards the supernatural. "Cylons don't need to eat or sleep as much as humans," he explains as he steps inside. "It makes it more important for me to enjoy it."

It is difficult for Faris to read the changing expressions on Caspar's face, but there is clearly a good deal of turmoil. Perhaps about his role in the war, or simply the reminder of the fate of the colonies. Whatever the case, the K'da does not intend to make it worse, particularly when they have arrived at their destination.

"Not as much, but still required?" Perhaps that makes them more efficient, but it seems rude at best to ask if there is a reason. "It is good that you may still enjoy the experience. Do you have a favorite type of food?"

Faris has been making an effort to learn written English lately as well, so he cranes his long neck to examine the menu board, slowly reading over the available options as practice. Most customers seem to be getting their beverages in cups, but the K'da feels confident that he should have no trouble getting his in a bowl. It is much easier to drink that way.

Another subject left behind. Caspar is a little disappointed in himself; he used to be able to talk about anything without letting his emotions get in the way. He's content to lay his feelings bare for Adia -- she deserves that much -- but to be so conflicted while speaking with a stranger?

It's as bad as the guilt.

"Yes, still required," he answers. "We can't entirely escape the confines of our biology." He gives Faris a brief smirk before stepping up to the counter to order a plain coffee, dark roast. He pulls his wallet out of his inside jacket pocket. "And whatever he's having," he adds, nodding his head towards the K'da. Perhaps this is what he meant about the drinks being on him.

Ah, Faris has seen wallets before, a time or two. Caspar's words make it clear that he intends to pay for them both, and the K'da bows his head slightly in thanks. "I will have one bowl of hot cider, please."

"The variety of food and drink available here is quite impressive," he adds, while they're waiting for their drinks to be poured. "If one tried to eat a new thing every day, a lifetime could be spent doing nothing else."

The barista does not bat an eye at the request for a bowl. They take Caspar's money and then fix both drinks, setting them on the end of the counter.

"Some things wouldn't be worth trying," he muses, picking up his cup. He doesn't move to a table just yet, curious to see how Faris will manage with his bowl. He managed to get the door open, but he only needed one foreleg for that. "You'd be able to tell as soon as you smell it." Why would a robot need a sense of smell? Who knows, but Caspar takes advantage of his to avoid anything that is remotely off-putting.

At times like these, it would certainly be useful to be a biped, or to have a host willing to help carry it. Ordinary objects are easy to carry in one forepaw when one does not need to worry about spilling their contents, but a bowl of liquid is an entirely different matter.

Fortunately the bowl has a small lip around the edge, and Faris carefully encloses it between his teeth, holding his head at a slightly awkward angle to keep it level. He may have to walk quite slowly, and the hot liquid laps at the tip of his snout with every step, but his scales protect him from anything more than mere discomfort, and he is in no hurry to reach their destination.

It is nevertheless a relief to place the bowl on their chosen table, and free his mouth to speak once more. After licking the cider from the end of his nose, of course. "One cannot enjoy everything," he agrees.

He watches the alien carry the bowl in his mouth, mildly amused until a tiny voice in his head that sounds remarkably like Adia begins to nag at him. You didn't even offer to help him, it admonishes, and for once, he feels mildly guilty for something that has nothing to do with the Cylon War.

Grabbing a handful of napkins, he swiftly joins Faris at the table. "Here," he says, putting them on the table and taking a seat opposite him. "If you don't like it, I can get you something else." Conscience clear, he takes a sip of his coffee and nods approvingly. "This roast is pretty good, though. Does Adia know about this café?"

Faris appropriates a chair from another table that looks to be made for someone broader than most humans, giving him room to perch all four paws on the seat and let his tail fall off to the side. It is not perfect, but it shall do nicely. "She does. It is a popular place in this part of the Nexus." He hesitates, uncertain if he should mention more. If Adia Costas has not said anything about the cafe, then it is likely Caspar has not heard news of the interrupted party, either. Her scent had been among the missing. While Faris does not know what she endured, is it right for him to tell of her secrets?

Perhaps not. Perhaps she has reasons for not saying so, not at this point. Faris lowers his head to the bowl and takes a few experimental laps of the hot beverage. The spices are unfamiliar yet intriguing, reminding him somewhat of fruit teas he has smelled in his travels. "It is unusual indeed. That is not a bad thing," he adds, an amused glint in his green eyes.

It's another surreal moment for Caspar, to be sitting at a table, sharing drinks with an alien. Come to think of it, when was the last time he shared drinks with anyone?

He takes another sip of coffee, then frowns a little in disappointment. "Too bad, I was hoping to surprise her. She doesn't have to keep drinking that bargain basement stuff in the Plaza." It doesn't seem like he knows what transpired in this very room on Halloween, or else he'd be a lot more uneasy. As it is, it's a decent enough café, in his opinion.

"So long as you're enjoying it." It reminds him a little of a cat, the way Faris drinks, and he tries not to stare. "Have you tried coffee? It's a little bitter, but it sounds like you might like that."

Faris takes a moment to puzzle out the term 'bargain basement.' He knows what a basement is, thanks to time spent with Hunter, and he is aware of the concept of bargaining, but what does this have to do with coffee? Do people barter beverages from beneath their homes? What an odd thing to do.

He's used to being stared at these days, either because of his appearance or behavior, so Caspar's odd expression does not bother the K'da much. "The scent is appealing," he agrees, politely sniffing in the direction of the man's beverage. "It is enjoyable even before water is added. Are the beans only used for beverages?" Even if they are not, he may choose to eat one anyway, at some point.

Someday Faris is going to ask for clarification for one of these idioms that Caspar likes to toss around, and when that day arrives, it will be a blessing that Caspar has an excellent poker face.

The sniffing does not help with the cat comparison. Caspar stifles a smile. "Almost exclusively. Although you can use a more concentrated form of the liquid as flavoring. I'm not a big fan of it that way, though."

"Oh? Is it used as a topping for ice cream?" Faris has encountered both caramel and chocolate used in such a way, and it stands to reason that more concentrated coffee would be thick like a syrup. Or perhaps it is used in place of mustard and other similar foods?

"It's used as a flavoring for the ice cream itself," he replies, glad that he doesn't have to bother to explain what ice cream is. "Although I suppose the syrup could be used as a topping. It's added into milkshakes sometimes."

He pauses thoughtfully. It's the wrong season for it, but...

"Do you know somewhere I could get good ice cream? Adia loves the stuff."

Faris' ears perk up a little, interested to learn what else Adia Costas likes. Maybe someday this knowledge will be useful? And he is more than willing to help Caspar find the path that he seeks. "I have seen an ice cream shop in the market. It may not be there now; many business move themselves here with little warning. I could help you search."

"Yeah, Adia warned me about that, how things move around here." The pinched frown on his face shows that he's clearly not a fan. But Faris' offer softens some of that frustration. In fact, by the time he finishes his coffee, he looks nearly grateful.

"Thanks, I'd appreciate that." Maybe they even pack it in pints. It'd be a nice surprise for Adia. "We're working on building our dairy production. Not to mention enough ice to keep things fresh. Ice cream is still a delicacy."

Faris has a little further to go on his cider, not able to drink it quite as quickly as those who can use cups. But he has been making good progress, lapping at the bowl while Caspar speaks.

"It is a long process to settle on a new world," the K'da agrees. "Building is going well?"

Caspar sits back, patient enough to let Faris finish his cider, but eager to pursue his new goal. "It is," he confirms. "Most everyone has shelter now, and the hospital is operational. I've been putting some finishing touches on our cabin. Trying to make it a real home for Adia."

The smile that briefly appears is quick to turn to a smirk when he adds, "When I have the time, of course. I'm stronger than any human, so naturally they put me to work erecting the memorial. It's my penance, apparently."

K'da do not build monuments to honor their dead, but Faris has seen enough of human culture to know how much physical items are valued, a tangible object to remember those who are gone. An important thing, for a species who has bodies to bury. "A solemn task. You must do this alone?"

He may be no expert, but that seems like it may be intended to be cruel, if Caspar regrets his actions while serving the hostile Cylon faction.

Caspar huffs out a breath of amusement, although it doesn't quite hide the bitterness that laces his half-smile. "No, there's a bunch of us working on it. They wouldn't trust me to do it by myself and it's too big for one person besides."

He looks down at his empty mug and adds quietly, "I would have been in there. Before it was built, people had been painting river stones with people's names and leaving them on site. Adia painted one for me. We moved it to our garden."

It's not how his people honored their dead, either, but death was only temporary for a long while. "How about your people? How about when one of you dies and the other doesn't? Your symbiotic pair, I mean."

Faris pauses in his drinking, the discussion too somber to devote anything less than his full attention to it. "K'da do not leave bodies behind when we die, so we honor those lost in song and story. There is a mourning period of four to twelve days, when the lost one's family and close friends gather together and weave their memories into the tapestry of the lost one's life. When all tales have been told, ashes are released from the ship's ejection port to end mourning. For Shontine, it is what remains. For K'da, it is symbolic only. For both, it is a symbol of falling beyond reach, both of loved ones and of enemies, leaving behind only memory."

"If the lost one was part of a symbiont pair, the mourning can be... difficult," he adds, his long ears laying back a little at the solemness of the topic. "A Shontin cannot become a host again until a symbiont is available, and she or he is no longer used to being alone. A K'da must partner with another host within hours, but this too can be difficult, if the new host was not familiar with the lost one's family and friends."

He listens respectfully, though his expression doesn't change much. "How long has your kind been living on ships? It sounds like you've adapted your mourning ritual rather seamlessly with it."

As for the untimely loss of a partner, that has him looking a little more philosophical. "Humans are very fond of physical reminders of the people they've lost. It's like their memories aren't real if they don't have some sort of physical evidence that they existed. I can't say that Cylons are much like that, even now that death is permanent..."

He absently rubs at the sleeve of his suit, as if reminding himself that it's there. "Maybe that'll change. The memorial isn't just for the humans. But... well. I would have been the only Five there, let's put it that way."

+1 Cylon to the Nexus

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