sufferably | ( i've been working on a cocktail called grounds for divorce )

Whatever you prefer. ( he says, lifting both hands. anything but bones is kind of a given, though there are very few people who address him by his first name.

but he taps his chin with the knuckles of one hand and thinks about that. )

Honestly? I work a lot. Being able to do something that can be done anywhere helps. The cooking's a part of it, 'cause there's something about smells and tastes and memories. I guess I could see about riding a horse or rigging up some lights or something to make the place more familiar. But it's usually not so bad.

Leonard. [Repeated with a little smile. Anything but Bones? Entirely doable. Who would think to call the fellow Bones in the first place, really?]

I've missed riding, too. But in the middle of a city... [She shrugs.] Maybe the next time someone leads an expedition out of here, we'll have to demand horses. [Not camels. She's had her fill of camel-riding for at least another year.] Tell me some more about Georgia--if you don't mind.

Demand, huh? I'm sure the gods'll love that. ( or they might just ignore it. bones supposes it must be nice to have the option.

then he spreads his hands a bit and shrugs. ) Haven't been back in awhile, truth be told. But it's warm, most of the year, and downright hot in the summer. The house I grew up in had peach trees in the yard, and we'd pick them to make cobbler and preserves. The cities are as big as any you'll find up north or out west, but I always preferred the countryside. Small roads, small towns.

Edited 2014-03-26 14:59 (UTC)

It's worth a try. [She might be a little more inclined to try and make demands these days.]

It sounds lovely--that's the one drawback to England, how damp and cold winter gets. [Spending the winter holidays in Egypt is nearly always preferable, in her book. And then she smiles, just barely holding back a laugh as she reaches for one of the scones.] Oh, listen to me. I hope I haven't run out things to say aside from the weather in England; I'm not ready to be that much of an old maid.

The thought never crossed my mind. ( he assures her, smiling. thought it is something he's been thinking about, so he continues: ) It's usually the one thing everyone has in common, the world they come from. But here it's the biggest difference between everyone. We should probably be glad we both know about England and America and Earth.

Yes, we're lucky there. [Of course, get to a granular enough detail, and they might as well speak of different worlds entirely--but the grand details, they share those. If there's one thing she's learning from her stay in Asgard, it's how thoroughly some things stay the same, even when times and places change.] And you've got all the stars as well. So--are there other people out there? Civilizations on Mars and all that?

( it's still strange, to him, that people don't just know. first contact was well before his lifetime, and though marietta, georgia wasn't a beacon of diversity while he was growing up, aliens have always been normal to him. so his expression is rueful, when he says: ) Not on Mars, unless you count the colonies. We had to go a bit further out, and truth is they got to us before we got to them.

But, yeah. Lots of other civilizations, and species. Languages and sciences and god knows what else, all different for each kind of people.

It must be fascinating.

[She grew up with Percival Lowell's Martian canals and H.G. Wells' clash of human and alien forces--though, for the most part, she was more interested in girls' fiction and the occasional bits of fantasy. Imagining worlds beyond the solar system feels curiously theoretical; of course there must be more beyond the nearest planets, but it's unimaginably distant. And astronomy has never been her passion.]

Do you see many of them aboard ship? Or do you only work with humans?

Starfleet's technically Earth-based, but a good percent of officers aren't Terran. ( he thinks, ironically, that spock would know the exact number. ) Our First Officer is a Vulcan, and if you walked onto the bridge you'd see about a half dozen species among the crew there.

I'd say maybe a third of the Enterprise's crew is extraterrestrial. It keeps things, if not perfect, at least in some kinda perspective. We're going out and exploring and meeting new species, and heaven knows Terrans don't have the best track record with people they don't understand.

( it's one of the most jarring things about being amongst people largely from the past, now. he thinks back on those times of history and realizes, perhaps for the first time, how open his society is by comparison.

he tilts his head, and shrugs. ) It's an odd kinda thing. But that old tin can and all the people on it are home and family, for better or worse.

No, I'm afraid we don't.

[Not that she has any place saying so--she's a part of the problem, even if she doesn't think of herself as such--but she can point to plenty of historical situations where his words are true. Were they better acquainted, she might be willing to mention some of her own experience of never being quite English enough to pass muster in some situations. But thus far, she hasn't grown close enough to anyone to manage discussing that--perhaps another day.

As it is, she looks down at her tea, quiet some moments, and searches for something to answer with.]

It almost sounds like dress rehearsal for coming here. All sorts of people from places well beyond Earth, and all of you trying to keep things going without destroying each other in the process. [She glances up at him again, placidly.] It makes you luckier than the rest of us--you've got a bit more experience.

Or it means I never get a break. ( the response comes easily, with his particular dry humor. he doesn't really dislike people based on species, despite what his comments at spock would indicate. he actually thinks having people around with different abilities and perspectives is damn useful.

he swirls his tea around in his glass, a bit, observing the color. then he looks back up at her and raises his brows, as though he's questioning what he's about to say. ) People, with notable exceptions, are pretty much decent. Wherever they came from or whatever they are, otherwise. I think, even here, we're more inclined to work together than not. It's just a matter of rooting out the bad eggs, and making sure they can't do too much damage.

( it's foolish to say, considering the fire and considering what evelyn had suffered, for it. he takes another sip of his tea and purses his lips, as though he realizes that. ) What I mean to say is, it's easy to focus on the bad things. God knows I do enough of that. But that's not how we'll make it through this, probably.

I'd like to believe you're right--really, I would.

[They're...not talking about outer space any more, are they, Doctor? She holds his gaze steadily, considering her own words a bit more than she normally does. Evy's an impulsive woman, but she knows how to pick her sentiments carefully when she has to.]

And--oh, none of the 'would' nonsense, I really do think so. Most people just want to do...whatever it is they want to do...and be left alone. [She gestures vaguely at whatever--you know what she means, right, McCoy? It's true enough of her, when one really gets down to it--and from everything Leonard's said, she'd say the same of him.] The real problems show up when what they want gets in the way of what someone else wants. You want to heal a person, but someone else wants him dead. I want to be a scholar, and someone else wants his old boys' club to keep its 'no girls allowed' sign tacked on the door.

[The Medjai want mummies to stay immobile beneath the sand, Evy wants to read ancient curses out loud. See, it works both ways. She shrugs.] I think you're right, truly--but sometimes fate has a nasty way of undercutting what we do.

( he has to think about that one for a moment. he's always considered himself in relation to other people, acting as a response and not instigating anything. but that's not necessarily true, is it? the big, key decisions of his life have been selfish and impulsive. and for the most part, he doesn't regret them.

he settles one hand against his chin as he thinks. ) Guess the universe-- the multiverse? the realms?-- aren't big enough for everyone to just do whatever they'd like without butting heads. And sometimes that's to the good. If you don't break down that door, the world'll keep trying to ignore its best minds.

( it's complicated. once upon a time, he wanted nothing more than to practice medicine in a rural small town with a wife and a family, not bothering anyone. but how much would he have missed if he was still back in marietta? ) It's a strange game. You play your hand the best you can, but in the end you don't really even know the rules.

I suppose it'd take half the fun out of it if you knew how to play to win. But I've never been much for cards, with rules or without.

[She's not exactly smiling, but she certainly isn't frowning. Evy loves conversations like these--and at the moment, she's ravenous for any opportunity to talk about something higher-minded than how are you feeling and are you going to be all right.]

Do you know what's one of the nicest things about this place, actually? If I tell someone I know something, they believe me. There's never any question of insufficient field experience. [At this point, she's thinking aloud for her own benefit rather than his. Time to try and swing things around from her difficulties finding permanent employment to the greater subject at hand.] To borrow your metaphor--the hands we've been dealt here are stranger, but it feels like there are fewer rules involved.

( gender equality is not something he's ever had to think on, though in context it seems ridiculous to him. she's one of the smartest people he's met, and he can't imagine she'd be kept out of her field. it'd be something to ask carol and uhura about, he decides. they'd probably know for certain how much things had changed. )

I've got a friend, ( he says eventually, fondness coloring the words from the beginning, ) Who says that when the rules don't suit you, you just change the whole game to make it work.

He's a little overconfident, maybe. But his way usually works out.

Edited 2014-03-27 18:29 (UTC)

[Evy laughs--gently, kindly. Whoever this fellow is, she likes the cut of his jib.]

Overconfident or not, he sounds like he has...[And she searches for a satisfactory word.] Panache.

I wonder how we could apply that here in Asgard. Make ourselves a little more than--than mere pawns in the gods' game of chess. [As nice as some aspects of life in the city are, the encroaching giants aren't exactly pleasant.]

He's got something, alright. ( that's said with exasperation. )

I dunno, about that. There seem to be lots of people questioning them, but I don't know if it goes farther than that. I wouldn't want to participate in the war, at all, but that's easier said than done when the giants are knocking at our door.

So it is. [Even dying doesn't free one from noticing the fighting outside the city walls. She's been less engaged than usual, perhaps, but it never escapes her notice.]. It's a pity your friend isn't here, or we might take a lesson from him.

( he laughs and shakes his head. ) If he was here, we'd probably already be home free. Or at least he'd be doing his damnest to get us there.

But I think we're doing alright, all the same.

We've beaten back giants too often to be doing poorly.

[Evy falls quiet then, crumbling off a bit of her scone without actually eating it. When she speaks once more, she's graver.] Thank you for coming by today. I really do appreciate it.

( he offers her a smile that's at once sincere and a little sad. )

Anytime. It's the least I can do, really.

This place... it puts us in danger we shouldn't have to be in, and then leaves us to deal with the consequences, of that. I think it takes a great deal of spirit, or courage, or whatever you'd like to call it, to keep going after that.

So, what I mean to say is... ( he trails off, almost flustered, before continuing: ) I think you're very brave, Evelyn. And though I can't really do much to help you, with this, if there's anything you do need I trust you'll let me know.

That's--[she clears her throat]--it's kind of you to say. Thank you.

[She glances down again at her tea, a sort of of demureness that mostly serves to give her a moment to collect her thoughts. The thought of discussing it, discussing her feelings on it, still leaves her feeling sick, but at the same time...part of her wants to try.]

It's...it's maddening, really, all of it. I never minded being here before now, not really. But if I could go home--right now--I would. [She sighs.] I never thought dying would make me homesick. [And jumpy, and listless, and inclined to buy matches, or better yet, electric torches with batteries.] But it seems it has.

You might not think it, but I can see why it would. ( people want to die at home, don't they? in their own beds, surrounded by their own people. death is the unknown, and so going into it you'd want to feel safe and be surrounded by the familiar. he can understand that well enough. and maybe because he holds that particular preference, he'll never really understand the heroic types who want to go out in a blaze of glory.

there's a reason the system of death here is so alarming to him, an he could almost think of it as some kind of scolding. but he doesn't voice those thoughts now. ) You're still here, though. In more ways than one. And even if we'd be better off all at home, I'm glad this place works the way it does, this time.

So am I.

[She might have the uneasy feeling of camaraderie with Imhotep, but she's hardly a shambling corpse--and she'd like to keep it that way, thank you. One thing for which to be grateful to the gods of Asgard.]

There was a--a saying, I suppose you'd say, or perhaps an admonition--that I ran across at home. 'Death is only the beginning.' It ended up being true there...but it's truer here. Mere mortality doesn't stop any of us. [Evy can't bring herself to smile at the thought, but there is a sort of cold comfort to it.] It's only a matter of getting used to it.

...I s'pose. ( he wants to say that it isn't natural, that they shouldn't even have that chance. but saying that is the same as saying he wishes evelyn, or stiles, or countless other people he's met here had stayed dead. or that jim had. and that's a worse alternative. )

Guess it's just one more rule we've got to shove out the airlock.

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