Everything It Seems I Like's a Little Bit Harmful for Me [Open to All]

[hallelujahjunction]

Who: Dan Sagittarius and you!
What: Dan tools around in the workshop and tests the limits of North's homeowner safety compliance, makes some presents for people, acts helpful.
Where: The Workshop and outdoors near the kitchen.
When: Early October
Warnings/Notes: The usual warnings associated with Dan - alcoholism, drug use, swearing, potential references to dead children, sex work and/or firearms. Lots of nicotine addiction in this one.

Dan hates the cold.

He fucking hates the cold, because his circulation has gone to shit and sucking down cigarettes all his life has left him with a permanent sensitivity to chill along with an inconvenient and unpleasant nicotine addiction, and that combination, here at the North Pole, means he has to run a regular gauntlet throughout the day to go on smoke breaks outdoors. Instead of just popping outside to take a leisurely break from whatever he's doing, he suits up with gloves and coats and hats like he's putting on armor for battle and then houses each cigarette in record time, shivering and wincing the entire time.

When he isn't on smoke breaks and isn't running around with Bunny on missions, he's recuperating from whatever adventure he's been on by working with the elves in the workshop. Dan's father was a carpenter, a tailor and a woodworker who expressed his affection in showering his wife and seven children with gifts and attention. Dan inherited that, and he fills his idle hours with woodworking and sewing, making Christmas gifts for the people at the Pole who've been pulled into this adventure, mostly practical things like warm socks and step stools, but sometimes just tchotchkes like carved effigies. He's excited that North apparently had a bevy of goose down, and is starting to piece together cozy coats for people, and he's been building various hurdles and tunnels for Cammie to test her holon on.

Throughout the day he tries to think of a way to not be colossally rude while smoking indoors. It's poor form to light up under someone's roof and make everything reek of tobacco, and it feels all the more inconsiderate to do so in the Pole, where the merriment is unilaterally pretty child-friendly in a way cigarettes are not, and even more rude to do so while the homeowner is in captivity. Still, after a particularly frozen smoke break where he returned to warmth with his hands so near-paralyzed and bone-white that it took over an hour to get back to doing his woodwork, he decides that North would be understanding, and decides to undo the smoke detector in the kitchen. After all, the kitchen is ventilated, and smoking in here just during the coldest part of the night isn't too harmful.


I. These Are Just a Couple of My Cravings

Most things in the world are made for adult men slightly taller than Dan, but most things at the Pole are made for North and the yetis, and that means Dan can't just accomplish his goals by standing on tip toes. On account of the elves constantly getting into things they shouldn't and causing accidents, the kitchen is equipped with a smoke detector, which is about eleven feet off the ground. Standing on the highest shelf of a ladder, Dan can just barely scrape the corner of it with his fingertips. His only hope of reaching it is to jump, which may be unwise, but the siren song of nicotine has been known to wreck many a man on its rocks.

"Hey, do you mind holding this ladder while I try to reach this?" he asks the next person to come in.


II. A Little Bit Sweeter

By a few days in, Dan's got a straight-up workspace in the workshop, a table festooned with the tools of his crafts. Right now, it's covered in fabric and threads and scissors and rulers and a mannequin and all the deadwood of tailoring and mending as he works on a big, puffy coat to swaddle Elle in. He's at a frustration point, because at some juncture he fucked up the circumference of the sleeves, and he's realizing that his error might be so serious as to necessitate scrapping the coat entirely. He's chewing his nails in annoyance at himself when someone comes in, and he pounces on the opportunity to distract himself with some new task.

"Hey, you need anything mended? The tailor's open for business right now."


III. So Please Be Kind If I'm a Mess

The second Dan's cigarette is burned down, he rushes back into the communal relaxation room, teeth chattering and hands tucked into his armpits. Snowflakes dot his hair, and his cheeks are flush red. He strips off his gloves, and his fingers are a mix of angry red and bloodless white. He hastens over to the fireplace and groans as the transition from too-cold to too-hot makes his hands cramp, then reaches for the rice pack he set over the fire to warm up without having to hunch over the flames.

"Oh God damn it," Dan mutters, as his clumsy-with-cold hands fumble the rice pack and drop it straight into the fire. He huffs with frustration as he gets the fire poker and tries to retrieve the rice pack, but by now the pack is decidedly on fire, looking like a burning baked potato. "I owe North some rice."

Comments

[poor_unlucky_girl]

"Well, if you insist, I will for your own good!"

Jennifer chuckles as she accepts some of the candy, making sure to leave some in Dan's hand. No matter how unhealthy they might be, she doesn't believe in taking away meager consolations. They could be one last reason to stay alive, to someone.

"But I mean it. I wouldn't want you to lose enjoyment of the little things."

She starts examining the fabric of Elle's coat more closely, and starts reminiscing.

"I don't remember if I already told you this story - If did, by all means, stop me. There was this girl in the orphanage where I stayed as a child, her name was Amanda. She cared a lot about fashion and her appearance, her hair would always be perfectly styled in beautiful ringlets and she would steal Martha's lipstick, but most importantly, she loved sewing. She loved sewing so much that sometimes she would pass rags through the sewing machine with an empty thread.

She made clothes and gifts, and she was so talented! But she was constantly mistreated by the other girls. Exploited, too, along with her talent. She tried so obsessively to impress them and make friends with them that she would sew relentlessly, all the time. She lost the joy in it and she would panic. It was very sad to see something so precious to her being taken away like that..."

Jennifer becomes genuinely sad as she remembers.

"I like to think that if she had not died so young, she would have found a space to rediscover the joy of her craft. It's what inspired me to learn sewing myself."

[credit_not_blame]

Stacia hops down, shifting in mid-air so that she's human-shaped when she lands on her feet. It's good practice, keeps her from misjudging the landing and falling on her face in an emergency.

"No problem," she answers, though she does move to turn on the fan over the stove. Cigarettes are stinky and, while she's happy enough to make sure Dan doesn't break his neck or freeze to death in the process of smoking, she wants the smell gone as quickly as possible too.

"The archangel Raphael," she says, a little bemused. "I think he mostly gets name-checked in Judaism and Catholicism. Oh man, did I not tell you about the six months I spent looking for angels so that we could prevent our reality from getting eaten?"

Wow, she'd thought that would have come up at least once, given that they keep ending up in other realities to try and prevent them from being destroyed!

[hallelujahjunction]

"Fake sunlight? Do the pill capsules glow?" Dan laughs. "I ain't opposed to that. Anything to keep away the winter blues."

It's not so much that Dan's afraid of medical care. He's been locked outside it by a lifelong lack of health insurance and ignorance as to what benefits it can provide. He's become self-reliant by habit.

He gives Elle a concerned look, because if she's anything like him, being stuck in her head is not the best place to be. "You know you might could talk to me if ever you're feeling lonely. I can always use company."

He takes some candy as well. "Mm. Well, Price is here. I'm hoping to keep an eye on him. I met this new guy, Miguel, who might could need some friendship. He seems a little closed off and not in a way where he seems happy with it."

[branchifer]

[Branch tries to digest that. It's a stretch of the imagination to understand why that might be hard on someone.]

In my village, that wouldn't matter. When someone can't do something, everyone else just helps them with it. Like if they can't walk. Or can't see or hear.

[Laurel Sunbloom, who's about fifteen years older than him, has a wheelchair and despite her lack of mobility they managed to keep the Bergens from getting her and had gotten her out of Bergentown safely during the evacuation. Since her old wheelchair couldn't handle the loose dirt of the tunnels and over the difficult terrain as they wandered, he remembers seeing the adults taking turns carrying her on their backs or linking their hair together in a little swing. When they finally stopped and started building the village, they'd made her a new wheelchair and made sure there were plenty of low-hanging travel lines and rings so she could also reach the higher travel lines and travel using her hair.]

[Ash Mistcloud can't hear so the whole village knows sign language, developed ages and ages ago for just the purpose. They all keep up on it in case an elder goes deaf, teaching it to the trollings, and it's also handy for the trolls who are born that way. Everyone always makes room near the wooferbugs during parties so she can enjoy the vibrations from the bass.]

[And, he knows, they do the same with him. They put up with his fussing about clear paths to exits for emergencies during parties and make sure they exist. They take less risks while swimming in the creek if he's being anxious about the state of the currents that day. They wear safety gear during the more aggressive games if he's fretting over them getting hurt. They could ignore it, they could say he's worrying too much, they could grouse about him damping their fun. But they know he'll be pacing back and forth in a state of anxiety, hovering around waiting to make sure they don't wind up needing help.]

[But his talk with Tim and others has made it pretty clear how unique his people may be.]

So I don't think there's anything back home like that. Our scrapbooks all have pictures that make them pretty easy to understand if you can't read anyway. Some books only have pictures. And we just read things to the people who can't see.

But I can see how it must be hard if they put things that are important for you to know in books without pictures. And then nobody tells you what's there or they straight up lie about it.

[Despite how alien it all is, he's doing a lot of mental stretching to try to understand and empathize, not realizing what it shows off about his character.]

I won't tell anyone you told me. [He comes to it automatically like Dan thought but also thinks to reassure him unprompted.] So I don't accidentally tip off someone who'd try to trick you.

[Dan said he wouldn't push Branch to trust him. Branch straight up Uno reverse cards that all the way into sincerely trying to be trustworthy with something vulnerable. Dan's already taken extreme care with Branch's vulnerability, especially during that day he'd been cowering away from him against a table, bloody and terrified, so he absolutely plans to do take care with his vulnerability in turn.]

[hallelujahjunction]

Dan cracks the window and breathes his smoke out of it, but the chill wind pushes most of it back into the kitchen, so he's grateful Stacia managed the smoke detector for him. Even the slap of cold air against his face and hands makes him whine slightly, although that's replaced by a satisfied sigh as the nicotine lights up the receptors in his brain.

"No, I don't reckon you did." Dan tries to avoid letting the concern show too much on his face, because he doesn't want to baby Stacia, but it's hard to conceal. He cares for her, and it truly feels like ever new drip of information he gets about Stacia and Elle's world just hurts his heart.

[hallelujahjunction]

"I can come up with stupider questions, if that was a challenge," Dan says, laughing. He feels the awkwardness, feels that something's unspoken, feels the two of them testing out familiarity and boundaries with each other as the conversation goes. Miguel's aloof and Dan's gentle; neither of them are rushing to force closeness.

He holds his hands out. "They're doing better. It always hurts when the blood rushes back in, but it's the kind of hurt that passes. I'd be real fucked if I ever lost a finger or something to frostbite, though, and I know I'm susceptible. I don't reckon a cushy desk job's ever going to be in my future, what with my pedigree, so I need my hands."

[hallelujahjunction]

You got a nice village. [Dan threads another needle and starts to sew the edges of one of the miniature buttonholes to keep it from ripping.] Reckon we need more nice villages like that in the world. Most of the places I been ain't nearly so accommodating.

[Dan's had to get very good at accommodating himself, at developing workarounds and excuses and backup plans, and even with his sharp mind and his decades of experience navigating a world that expects literacy from him, he still exists on the margins. He still feels like he's distinct from society, someone who engages with it but isn't in it. He still feels a profound sense of being unwanted and unaccommodated, of being inconvenient because of his shortcomings. He still feels like no one ever stops to think about the help he might need.

It's not just the literacy, but it's probably most pointed there. So he thinks he does understand a little bit about what it must be like to be small in a world of giants, what it's like to just not be considered, what it's like to need accommodations and have to be the one to self-advocate and find workarounds and never know if being forthcoming will be treated with respect or will be treated as a weakness to exploit. It's a hard position to be in, and it's vulnerable, and Dan hasn't met a person yet who enjoys being vulnerable.

But, unlike Branch, he also has the opportunity to keep that handicap hidden from most people.]

Thank you. I appreciate it. [He sees the trustworthiness as a gift too.] A few folks know already, but it ain't what I want people to remember me for, you know? Anyway.

[He shows the buttonhole to Branch for approval. It's not as tidy as he'd like, due to the small size and the fact that his hands shake a lot these days, but it'll do the trick.]

You found a place to post up in the Pole that feels safe?

[hallelujahjunction]

Dan sighs as he hears that story conclude in a girl's death. He remembers wondering about what-could-have-beens with his siblings. He remembers those hypotheticals torturing him at night, wondering if they had gotten to live, if they would have rediscovered any of the joy in their lives. He feels like he didn't, most of the time. He got to live and joy became a fleeting, ephemeral thing.

He didn't rediscover joy, he doesn't think. He just turned all his hobbies and skills into ways to stay busy, and that's as close as he gets. Staying busy.

"I ain't at any risk of losing my love for working with my hands," he says. He pushes away from the table to give Jennifer some space at the workdesk. "If you want, I'd love to could see what kind of sewing you can do. Maybe we might could work on something together."

[ninjavampire]

"Please don't. This is the longest conversation in the past year that's lacked an annoying quip."

Miguel's had enough clever jokester personalities around him to last a lifetime. He is more than happy to let the conversation wander elsewhere. Though - to Dan's credit, he did manage to get the Society's least funny Spider close to smiling.

He reacts to the movement of Dan's hands in a way that betrays a stern sort of concern. The kind that feels obligated to lend aid even if there's not much comforting personality to work with.

"Is pedigree so important in your world?"

[hallelujahjunction]

"Noted." Dan all but winks. He flexes his hands and waves his fingers in front of the fire, now that they're more comfortably mobile. He catches the concern, and right about then, he feels like he understands that Miguel's standoffishness shouldn't be interpreted as selfishness or meanness.

"Not pedigree per se, but I'm an uneducated hick." He doesn't sound self-deprecating or bitter or joking; he simply sounds like he's stating a boring fact. "Limits the labor market a little."

[ninjavampire]

"Well, you're not alone. I don't get the sense that Jack has much experience with formal education or being a pencil pusher."

Miguel would have guessed Dan to be a humble worldly type from the mannerisms and questions. But he seemed polite and well-traveled for being a self-proclaimed hick, as Dan described it. Or maybe that was just his own bias showing.

"It seems like 'Guardian' is going to be our full-time jobs for the foreseeable future. Whatever that means for you."

For him, it was yet another massive headache that he had to fix (himself, of course, because who else will if he doesn't?) .

[credit_not_blame]

Stacia hops up onto a kitchen counter, kicking her feet as she settles in before crossing them at the ankles. Mostly she's giving herself time to summarize it in her head first so that she doesn't get too bogged down in the details. Because woo boy, is this some first class Weird Shit. No wonder she's handling this reality hopping thing as well as she is.

"Okay," she begins. Note to self, come up with a better opening for telling stories. "From what I understand, our reality was broken and reassembled in the year before I shifted for the first time. I don't know all the details because I was busy grappling with being a werewolf at all and being a huge brat about literally everything having to do with any of it."

From some people, that might sound self-depreciating. Stacia just sounds affectionate and even a little proud of her younger self. Sometimes you've just got to decide that you have enough on your plate for the moment and not add more bullshit to the pile.

"But apparently it didn't get reassembled right, and some incomprehensible horror was squirming in through the cracks as a result. The archangel Michael decided it was the fault of the supernatural creatures and started doing murder about it. And this was pretty much the first time anyone had heard of angels actually being a thing that you could interact with? Obviously we had the concept, but everyone seemed surprised when they worked out that it was an angel behind everything."

Meanwhile, Stacia's mindset had been more things are already so weird that this might as well happen. She waves her hands to indicate that she's done with the context and about to begin the actual story.

"One night I have a weird dream where a guy introduces himself to me as the archangel Raphael and gives me all the backstory on why this angelic smiting is happening. And then he drops that he wants my help fixing it! I'm literally fifteen years old and all of my power and influence is that a handful of people with a moderate amount of political power think I'm cute. So I ask 'why me?' and he tells me that it's because I don't know enough yet to make assumptions and that I don't let people push me around, and also basically why not me?"

See again, how Stacia has learned to roll with absolutely staggering amounts of weird bullshit. She shrugs her shoulders and continues:

"He tasks me with finding the archangel Gabriel, who's gone into hiding but is really good at talking Michael out of things, and then the three of us and whoever volunteers to host Gabriel on that plane of existence are going to go convince Michael to deal with the actual problem. And it takes about six months of more weird shit, but that's eventually how it goes: the thing gets pushed back out of the universe and the cracks get sealed, the angels vanish as if they were never there, and reality goes back to what apparently passes for normal."

She's just going to skip over how she had a huge target on her head for those six months, and how involved she was in pushing the incomprehensible horror out of reality. She's not looking to upset Dan with the...well, everything. Raphael shielded her mind from the worst of the incomprehensible thing; she still has nightmares about it but they're just one option among the many nightmares her brain sees fit to inflict on her.

[hallelujahjunction]

"Well, I'm married to a Guardian, so I done seen the inner workings for the last few years and I..."

Dan has some feelings about this sudden upgrade in terms of what he's doing in the world. He hates to say he's glad that they don't all appear to be full-powered, tentpole Guardians holding the world up, because this world could probably use more of those. He just doesn't want the burden of immortality or that much responsibility when he's so used to being someone who just comes in when he knows he can be helpful, when he's someone no one's relying on or missing.

He's getting the sense, already, that Miguel doesn't have that sense of anonymity, that no one will notice if I don't show up freedom.

"I'm still adjusting to the idea of plenty. I been scraping by for a while and having the capacity to help out more people because I ain't scraping by on fumes and gas station food is a change. A good change, a change that's got me doing more and better good for people, but a change. It's nice to not have to worry about getting paid for anything. Nice to have that covered."

But Dan doesn't expect it to last. He expects this to be like the Rig or the Wilderlands, a chapter in his life that will eventually end before he's moved onto the next task by the powers that be.

"Anyway." Dan wiggles his ring finger, which has a simple copper band on it. "Easter Bunny."

[millenyal_pink]

"...You know what, they really should!" Can the elves do that? she's going to ask the elves if they can do that.

"I'm gonna take you up on that. It's not all bad-- I did need the space for a bit. Everyone's great and all, but even I need to recharge sometimes.

"Miguel... I think Stacia's mentioned him. Something about being a secret softie? I'll have to ask for details on that. And let me know if you need backup with Price," the reasons why he would go unspoken.

Her face becomes more serious as she takes a moment to gather her words. "There is one kid I want to keep an eye on. I haven't met him personally, but there's been some stuff he's said on the network that's been pretty concerning. He's spends a most of his time with Miguel, but you might've seen him around."

Elle is a chronic lurker on the public network. If it's there, she'll read it. If people want to keep their business to themselves they should make a private channel.

"His name's Boba, and I think he's the youngest person we've got so far. Can't be older than thirteen or fourteen. When Branch was trying to leave, apparently the kid asked to go with him. Something about not feeling safe? He's said some... pretty alarming stuff about where he comes from. It sounds like he was a bad situation.

"Aside from a chip on his shoulder, from what I've seen he's got some issues with authority figures. As the least authoritative person I know, I figure you might have a decent shot," she says the last bit with a crooked smile. She definitely means it as a compliment.

[ninjavampire]

There's a dance of expressions across Miguel's face. First the expected shock, then the automatic irritation of assuming he is being fucked with, eroded away when the quieter and more thoughtful part of his brain reminds him that in the multiverse, anything was possible. So, of course. Why not the Easter Bunny?

"Por supuesto no es un chiste..." he grumbles to himself, deciding to settle on that answer being too ridiculous to be a lie. "It's only because we're quite literally staying in Santa's Workshop that I know you're telling the truth." he adds wearily. The absurdism is what seems to be making him grumpy - albeit in a harmless way. It's something he's learned to roll with after dropping through enough alternate worlds with internal logic that made no sense to him.

"I want to ask how on Earth you managed that. But maybe when we find where the yeti store the rum."

((* Of course it's not a joke. ))

[hallelujahjunction]

Dan swaps over to Spanish, which he's fully fluent in; his accent has a provenance of Western Mexico. He follows Miguel's face journey with mild amusement that stops far short of being condescending. He knows how ridiculous he sounds.

"It's a long story, but I already know where they got the rum." Dan figures out where to get alcohol and cigarettes within an hour anywhere he goes. He feels a sense of security in knowing where to go to get a fix. "Honestly, so much of my life has felt surreal or absurd that I'm worried I won't be able to tell when something's actually too strange to be true."

[ninjavampire]

Well, that wasn't an unwelcome surprise. Speaking more than one language wasn't uncommon back home, but that doesn't seem to be the case in Dan's dimension. Clearly, his conversation partner was being deceptively humble about himself. Dan knew where the fun drinks were, and had some other secrets about him? The annoyed tension lines of Miguel's face ease up with interest.

"Ya veo. Si estas repleto de sorpresas." he replies with a lighter breeze in his voice. "¿Me vas a decir el cuento de cómo aprendistes hablar así?"

His spoken cadence has the influence of the city and a hundred years of time between them, leaving it fairly "neutral". Closer to what might be heard on television rather than any particular region.

(( * I see. You really are full of surprises. Are you going to tell me the story of how you learned to speak like that? ))

[hallelujahjunction]

"Ghost-hunting takes me along the whole of the West Coast of North America. And I had a loved one who helped me practice conversations."

Dan doesn't particularly want to talk about Ellie, much less with a stranger, but he has plenty of stories of hunting ghosts in Acapulco and Ensenada. He listens for Miguel's accent, but he supposes that it must just be Nueva York or the century of difference because it doesn't quite track to any location in particular.

"I speak French, American sign language and Common Tongue, too. I pick up languages like fleas. I'm shooting for Mandarin next."

cw animal death mention

[poor_unlucky_girl]

"That sounds like a brilliant idea. Let me think a little..."

There's surprisingly a lot of material available, which speaks volumes on the Elves' hospitality, they must have worked so hard to provide it. Eventually, Jennifer's attention is caught by leather.

"Not sure what is in style today, but back in my day we would use a lot of lapped seams."

While touching the fabric it comes to her mind that she could make a gun holster, surely it would come in handy during a mission. Almost intuitively, she draws the project on paper - she remembers how big Gregory's gun felt in her hand, how Wendy gave it to her, saying they had to take it away for his own good...

No, no, she should make something else.

She probably takes more time than necessary, painstakingly cutting and working with such small pieces compared to what she has avaialable that one could see her needing glasses soon. It's not exactly a coincidence that she chooses something that requires much focus. She's not the type to escape from feelings, but the pity she feels for Wendy usually makes her spiral. So absurd to imagine that concerned child be the same person who killed her girlfriend's dog out of jealousy.

No, she doesn't need any help, and knows that Dan is too polite to intervene early, so she actually manages to finish: behold, what you could only describe as the tiniest leather bag you will ever see.

"Branch might need this."

[ninjavampire]

"Fuistes demasiado modesto al describirte, Dan. ¿Entonces una carera de traductor no te interesaba mucho?"

Miguel had leaned forward, resting his face in his hand to get a closer look at him. As if observing him like a simulation graph would reveal all his secrets.

It was a... dry attempt at a friendly tease. Really, since when did someone associate Hickness with knowing five languages? To which ever degree Dan knew them. He supposes it would be handy for talking to ghosts.

*((You were being too modest while describing yourself, Dan. So being a Translator didn't interest you much?))

[hallelujahjunction]

He recognizes the tease for what it is, and keeps meeting it back with amiability. He's glad Miguel feels like Dan can be teased. Assuming Dan were too brittle for it would be a mistake.

"I get pulled into translating on ghost hunts pretty regularly, but I got other limitations that keep me from making translating my main means of income."

He guesses that's opaque enough that it doesn't completely tip his hand that he's illiterate, but maybe Miguel can read between the lines. Dan suspects that just about no one's illiterate in Miguel's time; the march of technology seems to always demand more and more fluency, more and more tech-savvy, and people like Dan's get left behind with their dirt roads and well-water and barter economies. Dan suspects Miguel can see it on him, the battered hands, the much-patched clothing, the imprecise haircut Dan gave himself to save a few dollars, the peek of scar under his lower lip that shines in the firelight, the missing tooth that only shows when he grins - all the visual evidence of a life held together with both hands and a prayer.

"I think my hands are warmed up enough that I could pour us each a glass of rum, if you were still interested in that."

[hallelujahjunction]

"I can relate." Dan sometimes mistakes his tendency to withdraw when depressed or overwhelmed as introversion. "And I'll let you know if I need a second set of eyes on Price. I reckon he's alright for now. I'm getting him to bond with the horse."

Dan hopes Concrete Blonde is safe with Price; Price seems fond of her, and his typical brand of manipulation is less likely to take hold with an animal, Dan hopes.

He eats some candy and nods.

"I ain't met him yet, but I'll keep my eye out. Branch brought him up to me but I didn't know who he was yet. You know where I might could find him?" He smiles back at her. "I don't know what I'd do with authority if it introduced itself and sat in my lap."

[ninjavampire]

"Si te gustan tus respuestas crípticas."

* (( You do like your mysterious answers. ))

Whether or not Miguel guesses it to be illiteracy and feels shocked by it remains his own mystery. He could already gleam that Dan had lived far more on the fringes than he had. Miguel wasn't that much younger when the hand of Alchemax and the Powers-That-Be were more strict about keeping unwanted individuals in the undercity, out of sight.

Miguel's face is briefly illuminated by the artificial orange of the world-hopping watch as he consults it - still busted on the dimension travel front - but functional enough to keep time. He stands up off the chair.

"Quizás un traguito. Debería regresar a mi trabajo."

* (( Perhaps a sip. I should be getting back to my work. ))

[hallelujahjunction]

“You’re not the only one who can be brooding and mysterious.” Dan’s grin betrays that this is also dry teasing. “I don’t read or write well. People tend to want that in a translator.”

He gets up, feeling stiff from the cold and then the heat, and starts to collect his layers from where he shed them.

“I won’t keep you long, then. What task is calling your name right now? Anything exciting?”

[ninjavampire]

"Hm."

Smiles don't come so easily to him (aside from the prickly sarcastic kind) but he accepts the accusation gracefully. How could Miguel deny his very vampire-like demeanor?

As for the revelation... he acknowledges it without comment. It's unusual, but in the grander scheme of the multiverse, not quite so much. One of them would have to read the fine print if they were out on the field. That's what it meant in practicality.

"Sigo armando el laboratorio. Con suerte, la computadora será suficientemente poderosa para hacer las simulaciones de física necesarias."
* (( Still setting up the lab. With luck, the computer will be powerful enough to do the necessary physics simulations. ))

Miguel is slated to be spending many afternoons organizing cables into ribbons and sleeves. He offers a hand with the clothes.