fille_fatale | ( IC CONTACT )

"Yes, why is it weird?" he repeats. Sorry Selina, you're dealing with a man who's had brothers named Droidbait and Waxer and Boil and Close-Shave, Tits wouldn't raise an eyebrow.

He takes Tits back without complaint and watches Selina climb, assessing her agility and strength automatically. "'Course," he answers and slings her back into his shoulder, where she'll either hold on if she wants to go along for the ride or jump down and go exploring on her own. Apparently following Selina is interesting enough for her to cling obligingly to his shoulder as he clambers nimbly up behind her, with significantly more grace and agility than you'd expect from a man as bulky as he is. "Where are we going?"

She can't watch his progress easily without being obvious, but every time she reaches a landing she catches sight of how quick he moves. It is impressive, and not what she would have expected.

At least it's easy enough to explain when she's not looking at him. "It's weird cause you don't just talk about peoples' tits, and you definitely don't go naming your cat after them. Where'd Jedao get a bra from, anyway?"

She doesn't answer his other question: for half a second, she considers telling him she's bringing him to the roof so she can push him off, but it's a sour joke even in her head. She just likes to be up high - to look down at Gotham. The city always looks less gross, from high up.

"Well, we're not talking about anyone's tits, are we?" He clearly thinks it's a perfectly reasonable answer... of course, he's probably got upwards of a hundred brothers who named themselves for the Mandalorian word for testicles, so his opinion is skewed and possibly irrelevant.

"The bra came with the outfit?" He shrugs as he's crossing one of the fire escape landings. "The talking cat's gave people... magical powers of some kind, and when you used them you transformed. People were calling it a magical girl thing? Jedao took the deal, it came with a very pretty dress with a bra in it. It fit Tits perfectly when he was looking after her once I went evil." All delivered very matter of fact as he continues to climb up behind her.

Selina pauses in her climb to look at him over her shoulder, because 90% of what he just said makes no sense. "Yeah, gonna need you to explain the going evil part."

And if she picks up her pace to put some distance between them, well, she's not about to comment on it.

He pauses as well and looks up at her, then shrugs. "It was part of the flood." It had been a kriffing nightmare and he hates to remember it. Remember losing himself, Jedao barely able to bring him round and keep him from killing him, or trying to. "Some people who took the cats' deals... lost themselves. It was. It was bad."

"So sounds like just about every other thing that happens here."

At least he got a cat our of the deal. Selina pulls herself up onto the roof; a few buildings down, she can see the pigeon coop that Bridgit used to tend, the one she took over for a while back home. She doesn't want to look after fake birds, though, doesn't really want to bring a stranger there, either, so they're on top of this roof, which is mostly apartments atop a bodega. The view isn't the best - plenty of buildings rise higher - but it's still good. There's just something a little less...alive about the streets than she remembers.

Selina turns, backing away from the fire escape so she can watch him.

"So what are we talking about? How's this work?"

Fives pulls himself up after her, well aware of how careful she's being to keep distance between them... just as aware of how little chance she'd have against him if he decided to use his strength and speed and training against her. It makes him feel an almost overwhelming urge to point that out to her, to tell her how to actually keep herself same from potential danger rather than giving herself a false sense that she's done so.

That's not what he's here for now, though, and might not be something she'll want to hear from him ever, so instead he settles on the edge of the roof, his back to her and his legs dangling over into space. He can't think of a way to make himself seem less threatening to her than this.

"As far as I understand it, basically my job is to help you in whatever way I can, unless or until you're assigned to a new warden, temporarily or permanently." It's a far cry from what he'd expected he'd be doing when he'd first taken the Admiral's offer. "If there are... amenities you need or want, I can ask the Admiral for them on your behalf. Though he seems to have been a bit erratic about that lately. I can give you access to the Enclosure or the pub or the art and music room if you want it. Try and answer whatever questions you might have." He shrugs and turns his head to try and catch sight of her.

His efforts do the trick, almost too well; she wonders if he's trusting or stupid or just putting on a show, because shoving him off the roof would be easy, like this.

The thought makes her flinch, and she's glad his back is turned so he doesn't see the way she reaches for hers, rubbing at marks that aren't there.

"My pad's missing a bathroom, you could put one of those in."

She forces herself to drift closer, to prove to herself that she's not afraid. Hopping up onto the lip of the roof near him, she loos down and at least the height isn't getting to her.

He watches her sidelong, but pays just about as much attention to the view; he's used to splitting his attention between a lot more inputs than two.

"Sorry, if you mean a toilet and sink I can definitely ask him for those, but he won't give you a shower of your own. For some reason he seems to think there's some benefit in making the inmates share public facilities." He shrugs and turns to actually look at her more directly as she finally hops up onto the ledge not far away.

"I'd offer to let you use mine, I'm almost never in my barracks, but-" He tips his head a little, his expression wry. "As uncomfortable as you seem around me I can't see you taking me up on that. Besides, it's not very satisfying anyway, since it's a shipboard sonic fresher. I used to use the inmate showers a couple times a week before I had alternatives." He loves hot water, it had been one of the only luxuries of his childhood, spent on a water world--unlimited hot showers, or at least as unlimited as they could fit in in the time they were allotted away from training.

"Yeah, I'm good." She answers him dryly, unimpressed with the idea. She grew up slipping into the Y to shower, or local churches, before graduating to homes belonging to out of towners.

Selina considers telling him that she's not uncomfortable, but then she'd have to say she's wary, and she's not keen on that descriptor, either.

"What's a sonic fresher?"

"Figured." His smile is wry and unsurprised.

"It means there's no water involved, they're standard on starships where carrying enough water for hygiene purposes would take up too much capacity. They use sonic vibrations for cleaning and sanitizing instead."

It sounds efficient and smart, especially for a crew as big as he says. But Selina has never seen something as big as the starships he means, and the whole things sounds kinda terrible, in her extremely humble opinion.

"Well that sounds awful." She pulls a face at him for it. "I'll take the toilet, though." Facing out, Selina glances at him sidelong. He's a clone, and he's a warden. So he's not completely fucking crazy, hopefully. And the being evil thing was just...floods.

Selina's still new enough that that's hard to follow.

"So how come you don't have a regular inmate yet? You new too?"

"It's... efficient. And really the only way to handle hygiene for thousands of beings on a ship with limited cargo space that has to be maximized for military ordnance. Water's reserved for necessary consumption." Which is still a great deal, even accounting for shipboard water reclamation. "Hot running water is a lot better, but I'll definitely ask him for the toilet, and if there's anything else your cabin needs let me know and I can at least ask, though I can't guarantee his response."

He doesn't let himself react when she asks why he doesn't have an inmate of his own yet, doesn't let on that the fact he doesn't is his biggest fear. That he's terrified the Admiral has decided he doesn't actually want him here, that he'll be sent back without ever getting a chance to really even try to help his brothers.

"I've been here approximately sixteen standard months." He could tell her down to the day, but that seems... excessive. "And I assume that I don't have an inmate yet because the Admiral has not considered me the ideal match for anyone he's brought aboard so far."

Sixteen months. It's like everyone she's talked to has been here longer and longer. It weirds her out just about every time.

"Then why bring you on now at all? That doesn't make any sense."

That's exactly what he wonders and worries about at times. "I can't claim to have any idea how the Admiral's mind works, but there are some people who've suggested that sometimes... sometimes wardens need a little time, to do some learning and growing before they're ready for an inmate of their own. And so he brings them on early and gives them time to do that." He shrugs. "Like I said, though, that's... it's just guessing."

"So basically," she starts, and the edge in her voice is probably a good enough warning, "you could basically just be a failure as a warden, and I gotta deal with you for a month. That's just - that's just great."

She scoffs, walking away along the roof's edge.

"I mean, what the hell are you supposed to teach me, if you're here to do the same damn thing?"

His jaw tightens a little, but he doesn't let himself rise to the bait, just turns to sit straddling the roof's ledge so he can watch her as she stalks away.

"Patience, maybe?" he suggests mildly, eyebrows arching. "Possibly adaptability?" He shrugs. "But if you're interested in something more specific there's always interstellar navigation, basic demolitions, field medicine, around a dozen languages you'd probably never have any use for, marksmanship, armed and unarmed combat, chess, how to make pancakes, swimming?" It's just a random and slightly tongue in cheek list of options, though they're all things he would, in fact, be willing to teach her if she has any interest.

She lets out a sharp laugh, turning to look at him over her shoulder. It doesn't affect her balance in any noticeable way: despite the way she came to the Barge, she's perfectly at home up high.

"Your sense of humor sucks." She arches both eyebrows at him. "Besides, what makes you think you're a good teacher?"

"My sense of humor's amazing," he counters, refusing to let her wind him up. "And what makes you think I'm not?"

It's annoying: she'd like to see him snap.

"I dunno, maybe cause you've been here almost a year and a half and haven't gotten a real inmate to call your own?"

"Maybe there hasn't been an inmate here yet who needed what I can teach." It's hard to be casual about it, to not bristle and get defensive when it's his greatest fear. When he's been half-waiting for the day the Admiral just gives up on him and sends him home for months now. "Or at least not as much as they needed what someone else could." He makes himself shrug, though he doesn't even try to fake a smile.

"Like I said, I can't say because I have no idea how the Admiral thinks, but I do know that I've learned a lot in the last sixteen months, about this place and the people on it and how it works. And when I get an inmate of my own I'll do everything I possibly can for them."

She laughs outright, turning on one foot to face him again. "Yeah, and what's that mean? You gonna teach 'em how to make pancakes, and fight, and speak languages they don't need? The hell is that gonna do for them? How you gonna graduate someone, huh? That's all they're gonna care about."

She's only been around a couple months, but she's already certain of the inmate point of view, in general: she's spent enough time being gutter trash to apply it all to a screwed up prison.

"There's no real way to tell until I actually get an inmate, since they're all different, with different needs for graduation. And some don't particularly seem to want to graduate at all." Which is... problematic, and he hopes he doesn't get one of those, honestly, though he'll cope if he does. "What do you think you need to learn to graduate?"

She laughs again; Selina is very, very good at those bright laughs that manage to degrade whoever she's with through sound alone.

"You think if I knew that, I'd even be here? This Admiral guy's a freakin' psycho, how'm I supposed to know what he thinks I shoulda done better?"

He grits his teeth and keeps his expression placid, the way he'd done through years of training spent being demeaned and degraded by Bric, of taking orders from barely competent mongrels who were content to spend their lives like small change on meaningless objectives, of being called meat can and wet droid by Republic citizens who sat at control consoles relaying orders while he and his brothers dropped into combat zones by the tens and hundreds of thousands so citizens wouldn't have to. He's not going to lose his cool over this.

"I think it's something you'll need to figure out before you leave, and your warden can only help you do it, not do it for you." He shrugs. "When you get a permanent warden they'll be given your file, though from what I've learned that's not always particularly useful in figuring out what the Admiral expects you to change either."

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