[ There are a lot of things about this that are kind of weird to Maya. It's not the first time she and Peter have pretended to be people they're not, to get into a place they're not supposed to be, but the whole cult aspect makes her nervous in a primal sort of way.
And she knows that she has the Order to thank for that.
But she was needed on this mission, and honestly? This seemed like a good opportunity to face her fears. (She did, however, have an extensive talk with Peter on the subject, so he knew where she stood. She doubts she could do this without him, right there holding her hand.)
Another weird thing? Well, aside from trying to make herself stand out a little less- her hair is dyed a mousy brown, and the sweater she's wearing has overly long sleeves, enough to cover her tattoos easily. (If anyone asks, though, she's supposed to smile and laugh and talk about her rebel teen years, and how she'd like to get them removed, but, you know, money.) No, the weird thing is the wedding band. Doubly weird in that the thought of marriage had only just occurred to her, and now here they were, pretending to be husband and wife.
Maybe it was part of the reason why she thought she could stomach this whole cult thing so well.
It was nice to pretend after all.
But in the end, Peter was still Peter, and she glances sidelong at him. She doubts anyone heard that, but there's a lot more at stake her if he toes the line too much. Still, she sighs and looks a little wistful. ]
[ He squeezes her hand, once, then for the briefest second, he flashes her one of his regular smiles -- entirely Peter, confident to the point of cocky -- before it slips back into something hesitant as he stands upright again. His voice is still a little distant (because apparently, Peter decided Corbin should be a little flighty, have his head in the clouds). ]
I think we'll be okay here.
The work will be good for us. Ah, and we can save up, I think. We'll be able to go on that trip you always wanted. [ "I promise, we'll take a break after this."
Ahead of them, a family of four is admitted into the registration office; the paperwork, such as it is, seems to be going at a reasonably brisk pace, and by Peter's reckoning, it shouldn't be too long before the Pentecosts should be admitted in turn. He starts and turns to Maya. ]
Oh, sweetie, are we sure I didn't forget anything? [ "We can bail if you don't want to do this." ] Do you think one of us should go and check? [ "I can try this on my own." ]
[ It's reassuring to see that smirk- to see Peter for a moment- and she squeezes his hand in return.
She can do this. She can and she will.
And by now she knows him well enough to know what he's saying really means. He's looking out for her. He always does.
There's nothing fake about the affection behind the smile that she gives him. Maybe that's part of the reason they knew this ruse would work so well. They don't have to pretend to love each other- they already do.
Maya takes a little bit more low-key approach to her character- grounded, in contrast to the flighty nature of her "husband", but still polite and a little quiet. ]
Honey, I've double checked and triple checked everything. [ "We've talked about this already." ] It's fine. [ "I'm fine." ]
Besides, what if they let you in when I'm not here? [ "I'm not letting you do this alone." ]
[ He nods, smiling, and the relief he feels is genuine (though a part of him feels guilty for it). ] You're right. You're always right.
[ He really doesn't think he could do this alone, anyway, but he's worried for Maya, doesn't want to push her into something before she's well and ready. Though, honestly, who would ever be well and ready for something like this? Out of the frying pan, into the fire, basically.
Too late to think much more about it, though, as they're admitted into the small office. It's clean and well-lit, and behind the counter a friendly-looking woman with blue skin asks for their papers. Zoey Pentecost, being the less scatterbrained of the two of them, was given the responsibility of holding onto them. Once they're handed over and reviewed, the woman tells them which quarters they've been assigned and passes over two card keys.
"This will give you access to your quarters and to the facilities in general. The orientation will begin in one hour in the courtyard, but you're free to explore until then."
With a nod of thanks, they enter Mercy proper, walking into a large quad, where a small stage is setup. The quad is walled-in by floors upon floors of identical balconies with identical doors -- it looks more like the courtyard of an apartment complex than anything, really. Plain and painted in browns and tans.
There are other newcomers milling around, speaking with some people who look at ease, if a little vacant (and if Peter weren't so carefully keeping his expression schooled into something neutral but interested, he'd frown at the sight). He assumes they must be representatives of Mercy's older populace, if not spokespeople for "the Way of the Elder" thing that Peter had heard almost nothing about. For something that's so famously made this place prosperous, Tukkir has been surprisingly mum about what the Way of the Elder actually is. ]
We have some time before we need to be back here. Maybe we should take a look around?
[ the people with the somewhat vacant expressions don't escape her notice, either, and the implications deeply unsettle her. Her face remains a mask of quiet interest, but her grip on Peter's hand tightens almost instantly.
If this asshole is brainwashing people, she swears to god...
She nods, quiet for a moment to make sure her voice doesn't betray her anger and her fear. ]
Let's find our quarters and unpack a little, then maybe give ourselves a little tour?
[ He hums thoughtfully. ] That seems like a good idea.
[ Glancing around, he finds the elevator and steers them toward it, keeping his grip on Maya's hand firm, hoping to channel some of his calm to her. He knows this isn't easy for her, and even just a few minutes in, it's already starting to look rough.
He smiles politely at everyone they pass, and he doesn't have to feign surprise when one of the people with slightly empty eyes murmurs "Elders be with you" by way of greeting. Peter nods and returns it in kind, keeping his voice light.
They're somewhere on the eleventh floor. Their quarters are small but clean, with a small kitchenette and a bathroom; the living area doubles as the bedroom, containing a desk, a bed, and a couch. In truth, it looks more like a cheap hotel room than an apartment, furnished plainly but comfortably. ]
It's better than our old place, isn't it? [ Peter doesn't drop the act, keeping up the dreamy quality of his voice. ]
Oh, but we should look for problems, right? So we can let the administrators know if something's broken? [ "We should look for bugs." ]
[ Every time someone says "Elders be with you", she has a very strong urge to set something on fire. More and more she's convinced that these people have been brainwashed or hypnotized or something, and it doesn't sit right with her at all.
She relaxes a little when they get to their room, away from the vacant stares of the people in the courtyard, but she gets why Peter is staying in character- they talked about this. These people know their cult is under suspicion already, and even if they didn't, what kind of cult doesn't want to keep a close eye on each and every one of their members?
So she nods, hefting her suitcase onto the end of the bed. ]
I'm not really sure what you're expecting to find, but if you really want to...
Better safe than sorry. Wouldn't want to get a shock from a broken outlet, like last time. [ He offers a sheepish grin, then moves around the little apartment, testing switches and faucets as one usually would in a new home, but keeping an eye out for anything suspicious, as well.
He pokes his head out of the bathroom and shakes his head, puzzled. He thought he would've spotted something, surely, would've had to figure out a way to disable a camera or a microphone without it being suspicious. Still, he keeps up with the charade. ]
You see anything that needs to be taken care of over there, honey?
Just anything that seems out of the ordinary. Lemme see.
[ Peter makes his way over, hands in his pockets, and checks over the area. He's crouched in a corner, fingers feeling along the baseboard, when he finally sits back on his heels and glances back at her. He keeps his voice low, just in case. ]
[ He wraps his arm around her shoulders, pulling her in close. ]
Yeah, I get it. [ He presses a kiss to the top of her head. ] We just need to see what's going on, and we'll be out of here in a flash. Let the Nova Corps take care of it this time.
[ She nods once, and opts to give him a brief kiss on the cheek before standing and moving to her suitcase. Its contents is altogether average- average clothes, basic toiletries. She shoves everything aside and her hand goes instantly for a seam in the lining. She has to dig her nails in, but with a little pulling, it comes free, revealing the digistruct device beneath.
It's a comforting weight in her hands, and she takes a moment to scroll through its contents. There's her little Maggie, of course. She never goes anywhere without it. Her HellFire, the result of some splurging on her part after a well-paying job. And her newest toy, a gift from Gaige after the Mechromancer had oh-so-kindly installed a library on the Milano, a Chère-amie, with glowing blue accents. Gaige always did favor shock weapons.
She's got a few other things in there, just in case. Tina's Teapot, Lilith's shield, an old Hyperion shotgun she could never quite bring herself to get rid of, a Jakobs sniper from Sir Hammerlock.
It's a veritable small arsenal, and she hooks it to the back of her pants, in a place well-hidden by her overly large sweater. ]
[ Peter rips into his own luggage, pulling out the digistruct and hefting it in his hands. It's light, and as cool as he thinks the tech is, it's still no replacement for the reassuring weight of his blasters at his hips. The digistruct also holds his jet-boot attachments and the trigger for his helmet, as well as various gadgets he thought he might need, but he'd much rather be holding any of them than have them secreted away in some device.
Nonetheless, he follows suit, tucking the device behind him and carefully covering it with his shirt and jacket (a plain brown one, not his signature red leather coat). He moves the contents of his suitcase around to cover the rip in the lining, just in case.
He pauses at the door to take a breath, but by the time he's opening it and stepping out, he has that sort of far-off expression on his face again. He turns back, holding out his hand to her. ]
Well, you remember the shock I got in our last place? Smelled burning hair for days.
[ He squeezes her hand again, once for reassurance, as he locks the door behind them. He leads them back to the elevator, back down to the courtyard, where a decent number of what Peter assumes to be new arrivals are gathered. He spots some more of the people with vacant expressions, and-- alright, they're starting to get to him. The empty look in their eyes are too unsettling, too familiar, and it reminds him of screaming, Please Maya stop snap out of it it's me it's Peter--
He can't help taking in a sharp little breath, but then he forces himself to calm down and refocus, anchoring himself with the feel of her hand in his.
Finally he can trust his voice again, but his smile is a little unsteady. ] Lots of people here, huh?
[ She hears him inhale, feels him grip her hand, and she knows. She understands. She's reliving it too, in her own way. She's not sure how to feel about the fact that even Peter is faltering a little.
The sooner they take these assholes out, the better.
She turns to him, putting her free hand on his shoulder. ]
Are you okay, dear? I know how you can be with crowds sometimes.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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And she knows that she has the Order to thank for that.
But she was needed on this mission, and honestly? This seemed like a good opportunity to face her fears. (She did, however, have an extensive talk with Peter on the subject, so he knew where she stood. She doubts she could do this without him, right there holding her hand.)
Another weird thing? Well, aside from trying to make herself stand out a little less- her hair is dyed a mousy brown, and the sweater she's wearing has overly long sleeves, enough to cover her tattoos easily. (If anyone asks, though, she's supposed to smile and laugh and talk about her rebel teen years, and how she'd like to get them removed, but, you know, money.) No, the weird thing is the wedding band. Doubly weird in that the thought of marriage had only just occurred to her, and now here they were, pretending to be husband and wife.
Maybe it was part of the reason why she thought she could stomach this whole cult thing so well.
It was nice to pretend after all.
But in the end, Peter was still Peter, and she glances sidelong at him. She doubts anyone heard that, but there's a lot more at stake her if he toes the line too much. Still, she sighs and looks a little wistful. ]
I was just thinking the same thing.
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I think we'll be okay here.
The work will be good for us. Ah, and we can save up, I think. We'll be able to go on that trip you always wanted. [ "I promise, we'll take a break after this."
Ahead of them, a family of four is admitted into the registration office; the paperwork, such as it is, seems to be going at a reasonably brisk pace, and by Peter's reckoning, it shouldn't be too long before the Pentecosts should be admitted in turn. He starts and turns to Maya. ]
Oh, sweetie, are we sure I didn't forget anything? [ "We can bail if you don't want to do this." ] Do you think one of us should go and check? [ "I can try this on my own." ]
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She can do this. She can and she will.
And by now she knows him well enough to know what he's saying really means. He's looking out for her. He always does.
There's nothing fake about the affection behind the smile that she gives him. Maybe that's part of the reason they knew this ruse would work so well. They don't have to pretend to love each other- they already do.
Maya takes a little bit more low-key approach to her character- grounded, in contrast to the flighty nature of her "husband", but still polite and a little quiet. ]
Honey, I've double checked and triple checked everything. [ "We've talked about this already." ] It's fine. [ "I'm fine." ]
Besides, what if they let you in when I'm not here? [ "I'm not letting you do this alone." ]
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[ He really doesn't think he could do this alone, anyway, but he's worried for Maya, doesn't want to push her into something before she's well and ready. Though, honestly, who would ever be well and ready for something like this? Out of the frying pan, into the fire, basically.
Too late to think much more about it, though, as they're admitted into the small office. It's clean and well-lit, and behind the counter a friendly-looking woman with blue skin asks for their papers. Zoey Pentecost, being the less scatterbrained of the two of them, was given the responsibility of holding onto them. Once they're handed over and reviewed, the woman tells them which quarters they've been assigned and passes over two card keys.
"This will give you access to your quarters and to the facilities in general. The orientation will begin in one hour in the courtyard, but you're free to explore until then."
With a nod of thanks, they enter Mercy proper, walking into a large quad, where a small stage is setup. The quad is walled-in by floors upon floors of identical balconies with identical doors -- it looks more like the courtyard of an apartment complex than anything, really. Plain and painted in browns and tans.
There are other newcomers milling around, speaking with some people who look at ease, if a little vacant (and if Peter weren't so carefully keeping his expression schooled into something neutral but interested, he'd frown at the sight). He assumes they must be representatives of Mercy's older populace, if not spokespeople for "the Way of the Elder" thing that Peter had heard almost nothing about. For something that's so famously made this place prosperous, Tukkir has been surprisingly mum about what the Way of the Elder actually is. ]
We have some time before we need to be back here. Maybe we should take a look around?
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If this asshole is brainwashing people, she swears to god...
She nods, quiet for a moment to make sure her voice doesn't betray her anger and her fear. ]
Let's find our quarters and unpack a little, then maybe give ourselves a little tour?
no subject
[ Glancing around, he finds the elevator and steers them toward it, keeping his grip on Maya's hand firm, hoping to channel some of his calm to her. He knows this isn't easy for her, and even just a few minutes in, it's already starting to look rough.
He smiles politely at everyone they pass, and he doesn't have to feign surprise when one of the people with slightly empty eyes murmurs "Elders be with you" by way of greeting. Peter nods and returns it in kind, keeping his voice light.
They're somewhere on the eleventh floor. Their quarters are small but clean, with a small kitchenette and a bathroom; the living area doubles as the bedroom, containing a desk, a bed, and a couch. In truth, it looks more like a cheap hotel room than an apartment, furnished plainly but comfortably. ]
It's better than our old place, isn't it? [ Peter doesn't drop the act, keeping up the dreamy quality of his voice. ]
Oh, but we should look for problems, right? So we can let the administrators know if something's broken? [ "We should look for bugs." ]
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She relaxes a little when they get to their room, away from the vacant stares of the people in the courtyard, but she gets why Peter is staying in character- they talked about this. These people know their cult is under suspicion already, and even if they didn't, what kind of cult doesn't want to keep a close eye on each and every one of their members?
So she nods, hefting her suitcase onto the end of the bed. ]
I'm not really sure what you're expecting to find, but if you really want to...
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He pokes his head out of the bathroom and shakes his head, puzzled. He thought he would've spotted something, surely, would've had to figure out a way to disable a camera or a microphone without it being suspicious. Still, he keeps up with the charade. ]
You see anything that needs to be taken care of over there, honey?
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Not really, but I guess I don't know what I should be looking for.
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[ Peter makes his way over, hands in his pockets, and checks over the area. He's crouched in a corner, fingers feeling along the baseboard, when he finally sits back on his heels and glances back at her. He keeps his voice low, just in case. ]
Think we're good in here.
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[ because if that's the case, she drops the act almost immediately, and just sort of... sags a little. She's exhausted already. ]
Thank God.
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You alright? Not too late to bail.
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[ She plops next to him, leaning against his shoulder. ] I'll be all right. Some of this just... it hits close to home, you know?
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Yeah, I get it. [ He presses a kiss to the top of her head. ] We just need to see what's going on, and we'll be out of here in a flash. Let the Nova Corps take care of it this time.
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[ she likes to hope it would be that easy, but considering their luck? It most certainly wont be.
And if they find out that this Tukkir guy was brainwashing people? She might be tempted to kill him herself. ]
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[ He's quiet for a second, then he ventures, ] You're doin' great so far. And have I mentioned? You roleplaying? So hot.
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I couldn't do this without you.
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[ He takes a breath, letting it out slowly. ] We'll head out whenever you're ready.
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Should we "unpack" a little first, or would that be too risky?
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Might be a good idea. The orientation or whatever might be a good time to slip into one of the restricted areas. We'll want our gear for that.
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It's a comforting weight in her hands, and she takes a moment to scroll through its contents. There's her little Maggie, of course. She never goes anywhere without it. Her HellFire, the result of some splurging on her part after a well-paying job. And her newest toy, a gift from Gaige after the Mechromancer had oh-so-kindly installed a library on the Milano, a Chère-amie, with glowing blue accents. Gaige always did favor shock weapons.
She's got a few other things in there, just in case. Tina's Teapot, Lilith's shield, an old Hyperion shotgun she could never quite bring herself to get rid of, a Jakobs sniper from Sir Hammerlock.
It's a veritable small arsenal, and she hooks it to the back of her pants, in a place well-hidden by her overly large sweater. ]
Ready when you are.
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Nonetheless, he follows suit, tucking the device behind him and carefully covering it with his shirt and jacket (a plain brown one, not his signature red leather coat). He moves the contents of his suitcase around to cover the rip in the lining, just in case.
He pauses at the door to take a breath, but by the time he's opening it and stepping out, he has that sort of far-off expression on his face again. He turns back, holding out his hand to her. ]
Hope I didn't make us late.
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I know you're worried about the outsets, but did you have to test every one?
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Well, you remember the shock I got in our last place? Smelled burning hair for days.
[ He squeezes her hand again, once for reassurance, as he locks the door behind them. He leads them back to the elevator, back down to the courtyard, where a decent number of what Peter assumes to be new arrivals are gathered. He spots some more of the people with vacant expressions, and-- alright, they're starting to get to him. The empty look in their eyes are too unsettling, too familiar, and it reminds him of screaming, Please Maya stop snap out of it it's me it's Peter--
He can't help taking in a sharp little breath, but then he forces himself to calm down and refocus, anchoring himself with the feel of her hand in his.
Finally he can trust his voice again, but his smile is a little unsteady. ] Lots of people here, huh?
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The sooner they take these assholes out, the better.
She turns to him, putting her free hand on his shoulder. ]
Are you okay, dear? I know how you can be with crowds sometimes.
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