Vis avis

"Why are you asking me?"

You're gripping the mug so hard your fingertips no longer feel the heat, only inadequately-padded bone-on-bone-china pressure. You envision it cracking with the smallest, imperceptible, indelible sound, tea liberating itself all over your corner of someone else's dining room table.

You're standing - your ground, this time. Lock tenses, knowing she's crossed a line, fighting untimely self-beratings that she let herself forget those lines in the first place. Your voice hardens and Lock's eyes flash with fear and your voice is slamming, breaking-

"You're the one with the- the secret club. The codenames. The motorbike and the - the whole outfit and that talking fucking cat. Me, until half an hour ago, I was the last person alive who knew what thumbs were. I was doing an awesome job, just great, fantastic, thanks for doing me the favour of existence and establishing just how - how - sweet fuck all I know about what's going on, because. You know. I was a bit caught up. In things."

You take a deep breath, look over for any provocation to continue - to aim and accuse and retaliate. You're the victim here. Kick back knock over some furniture physically intimidate a complete stranger, it's been a long day, treat yourself-

-you can't do it. You take a shakier breath, and Lock sighs. Half a second ago, you would've bristled, but she's-

"sorry. I assumed-" she drums her fingers, composes herself. "I d- never asked for your name. Her voice is halting, measured. "You assumed, based on what you knew, that there was nobody else out there. I assumed, when Grimes- when I-"

"Wait. You saw me. Through the cat?"

"Definitely not how you're thinking, but-" she winces. "Can we start again?"

---

Cup of tea. Round Two.

Your original cup was fine, you insisted, but Lock - sorry, LoC, Lotus, you suppose feels better to say - looked awkward waiting for the jug to boil, so you were both grateful when you accepted sugar in your tea. It's definitely more to your taste, inasmuch as your tastebuds are intact after the first scalding sips.

Lotus (an online alias, apologetically maintained even after you insisted that Maverick wasn't (though "apologetic" is pretty par for the is-that-seriously-your-real-name course)) worked in web design, and doesn't feel comfortable sharing too much more information. She studied here last year, making friends with one "Tallahassee". You ask her to write it down.

"...oooh, like the capital of Florida. So, when you say computers... do you mean hackers?"

"No. Well, I can't speak for every user-"

"Is this the Matrix?"

"Nnnnnnnno."

"Ok." You take a proper gulp of tea. It's actually kind of nice at this temperature. "Just to establish, that I'm not losing my fucking mind, everyone was humans, yeah? And then everything started - well, I mean, I guess there really isn't a better word for it than glitching, so I guess everyone did that for a bit, and now everyone's! Fucking! Birds! Except you, me, and your ~curlewminati~."

The portmanteau goes unappreciated. Probably for the best. "Your timeframe sounds about the same as mine, then." She frowns. "I do wonder, though-"

And then the front door slams. And Lotus mutters, "oh, shit. Take your shoes off."

You'd ask why, but she's already cussing at the impractical amount of lacing on her combat boots. A pre-emptively-done-with-your-face yawp of a voice precedes: "Ooooooooh my god, Su, I better've unholed myself out of the lab for-"

Tallahassee, you presume, takes in her kitchen. One of Lotus' boots, freshly removed and exiting the premises as the host enters, thunks down the concrete steps out the back door. Yours wasn't nearly as well-aimed, and bounces off her fridge instead.

The graceful host says absolutely nothing, heads back for the hallway, and slams what you hope is the door to her room or something. Lotus mutters something again, probably a cuss, though it's hard to tell whether it's directed at the iron grip her boot's got on the ball of her foot or the ray of sunshine who just got home. She hands you her boot.

"I'll talk to them. Line these all up by the back door, and boil the jug."