calling_logs | With the touch of a button.

Entry tags:

With the touch of a button.

WHO: Betty Barnes and anyone who happens upon her.
WHAT: Eating, surveilling, and figuring out the city.
WHEN: Lunchtime.
WHERE: City of Tomorrow.
NOTES/WARNINGS: None as yet.

The odd little device had appeared beside her makeshift cot, which was suspect in and of itself. For a span of time she hadn't really bothered to count, Betty had been careful to keep her head down, doing what needed to be done to stay off the radar just in case someone recognised her and decided to make her useful again.

That wasn't on her schedule. Not now, not ever. And that was why it had unsettled her to suddenly find a phone-ish thing suddenly beside her. She'd walked away from it, only for it to come back to her. She'd tossed it into moving trucks and had it back hours later. She'd even shot it, but no dice.

In the end, she started to prowl through it, seeing what it did, looking for any symbols or hints that it was from someone she should be wary of. The oddest thing had been how benign it seemed. She'd watched chatter scroll through, none of it setting off her internal alarm bells.

The only button that was confusing was the one that said 'Transport.' There was no way it was accurately labeled, though - or so Betty thought until she pressed it and found herself in completely unknown territory. Her hypervigilance had kicked in immediately, and only after a little walking around and a few exercises she'd read up on from a library could her shoulders start to crawl down from around her ears.

Right now, with her back to the exterior wall of the cafe she'd chosen, she ate from a plate she'd watched be prepared, and she watched her surroundings. So far, it actually seemed... safer. This part, at least.

She'd have to think about that.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Rita had actually discovered the CALL device to be incredibly helpful. All the info she needed for the mission, scratch that, the invitation to Seven Fold Cities had been clear and concise, if a bit flowery for her liking. Then again, a city of heroes needed its propaganda, she supposed. As the darling of the UDF, she wasn't inexperienced with the process.

But actually being transported here was something entirely different. For a sickening moment, it touched on memories of the Day resetting, and she had to stop and clear her head. When she came back to herself, she was standing in front of a café. Coffee sounded amazing right now.

You'll forgive her if she keeps one hand on her SIG while she peruses the menu board outside the little fenced in dining area.

"Rita."

Seeing her was a little unexpected but definitely not unwelcome. It made her life, if anything, a little easier. She had backup with Rita around. Betty raised a hand - conspicuously her right - to draw attention to just where she was sitting. "The coffee's safe."

She had one sitting on the table, as well as a sandwich that she'd nibbled at. Luckily, it was a cold sandwich. It could sit.

Her head came around and she blinked for a moment. Yes. The hotel room. Betty.

She blinked and found a smile. Answered with a short, sharp nod. The sun on her face. The sound of dishes in the bus boy's tray. The sight of Betty's plate. The smell of the coffee and fresh bread. The faint taste of her mouthwash.

"Betty. How's it taste, though?" She found a chair, settled into it.

"Better than tea, but a little burnt." Betty shrugged. "Liveable."

She wasn't going to be dishonest and say it was the best thing ever, that's for sure. But it was miles better than the swill they'd called coffee during the war.

Was she going to compare everything to the war now? Shit.

"I've had worse."

"Coffee." The waitress appeared and she pointed at the cup in Barnes's hand. "My mother would be scandalized. 'What good Englishwoman drinks coffee?' The kind that hands out with Americans, Mother."

She laughed, some of the tension in her shoulders melting a bit.

"How are you doing? Did you find that lotion I left for you?" She gestured to her own left shoulder, indicating the irritation where Betty's prosthesis met real flesh.

"Found it," she agreed, "trying it out, too. Found out the hotel has a washer, too. Tried that out this morning." And not that she would really advertise to anyone, but damn it was nice to have clean underwear again.

"So far, the shoulder's not itching. Thanks."

She nodded, smiling as she looked down at her hands. A moment later, she pulled out her CALL device, started to poke around at it.

"You still up for finding a room together?"

That was an easy nod. "Guess I need to find some work, too. If they're used to people popping up outta nowhere, they're probably used to hiring without a lot of papers." And that would be what clinched it for her. She didn't have even the smallest scrap of ID except for her tags, which she'd dug out of Hydra storage.

"Makes sense."

The device has an app for available housing. It even has the option of sorting by city.

"I'll make a list. You can check off what looks good. I'll make the arrangements."

Betty's device chimes. Rita's sent her contact info.

Betty blinked at the sound and had to dig through a few pockets to find it. Not surprisingly, she'd left the thing up in the hotel room. Now, there it was, dinging in her pocket. She wasn't sure if she liked that or hated it.

Either way, she looked at it and tried to decipher what she was supposed to do with it. Contact info. Okay. But she was right there.

Modern weirdness.

She sighed and offered her CALL thing over to Rita. "Okay, here, do whatever you need to do on mine to... to whatever. To make it recognise you."

Betty Barnes: world's youngest tech-ignorant grandma. She'd learn. She just hadn't yet.

Rita gave a small smile. "You want, I can walk you through it. Later, of course."

She took the device and after a moment's poking at it, she handed it back.

"Trust me, you'll wonder one day what you did without one of these bloody things."

"I'll figure it out later. I'm not stupid, I'm just..."

Well. What was she?

She was unlearning her programming. Learning to ask questions again. Learning to explore. For decades, she'd been used to kill people. Now she was figuring out how to be people.

So... so what was she? After a few seconds, she finally decided.

"Inexperienced."

But there was one more thing.

"Out of practice."

"I know. Every time one of these gets an upgrade, I go through a period of feeling like an idiot. It comes with the territory."

Of all the people Betty could fall in with, Rita probably understood better than most.

"You'll get the hang of it, I have no doubt."

"I used to be a nurse. Cutting-edge battlefield stuff. Now, I look at this thing and it's like I'm trying to read Mayan petroglyphs. And here I am, trying to figure out how I know the word 'petroglyphs'." Betty shook her head, sighing, and relented to her sandwich at last, picking it up. "Yeah, I'll figure it out."

The waiter brought Rita's coffee and she thanked him quietly.

"You ever want a quick brief on it, what you can do with it, you let me know. I'd be happy to sit down with you, give you the run down. It's really no more complicated than an assault rifle or a field suture kit, once you know what to expect."

That was easy enough to consent to. Betty nodded without hesitating. "Sounds good. Maybe tonight. I was planning on looking around more today. Seeing what to expect from this place."

She'd already seen this city and the City of Shadows. There were a few more that she at least needed to glance at. Even if she was wary of a few of them.

"Good plan. I was planning on heading up to the Satellite, see what I can find out up there. And then I thought -- I really want to go for a swim. I hear there are ocean beaches here. Somewhere."

She was mid-chew when she heard what Rita said.

Beaches. Ocean beaches. Not like the rock-and-trash-strewn, possibly toxic beaches of New York. Hell, it was possible she'd been to a few beaches in her life, but if she had, it definitely hadn't been for pleasure. But now...

Betty bit her tongue. The beach. Fuck, she wanted to go, but she also knew that going to the beach, for most people, meant wearing at least shorts, T-shirts, probably bathing suits...

No. No, she couldn't do that. Not just now. So she shook her head a little. "Sounds nice. But I think I'll pass on beaches for now. The Satellite... maybe. It'd be a good view."

Rita sees her companion's reaction and she pauses.

"I'll scout it out. Let you know what I find. Maybe we can find a secluded bay or something. Or a running trail. Do you run?"

For once, Betty found herself almost ready to laugh. And not just laugh - laugh almost hysterically. Did she run?

"Yeah," she said, "I've been running for a while."

From everything. From Hydra, from Steve, from anybody who might recognise her. From reality, from memories, from hell...

"I'm pretty good at it."

Rita's lips press thin in a wry grin.

"Yeah, no. I mean long distance. I use it to get out of my head."

She knew. She'd just also known that the joke was right there in front of her, and for once, she had to grab it. So she nodded, answered honestly - "Not really. I'm pretty sure I could, but I've not ever done it intentionally."

"Well, maybe I can drag you along with me one of these days. We'll get you some running gear. We'll blend right in with the rest of the normals. Maybe pretend like we are one of them, for a little while, anyway."

"Running gear better have long sleeves and a glove," she said, but there was no other protest. Sure. She'd run. Hell, she could probably use the basic practice. Get back into the feel of things instead of just keeping her head down and trying to keep from having to fight.

"Of course. Though, you know, you're in an era now where you're not the only vet running around with metal bits where their limbs used to be. Sure, yours has a shiny red star on it, but you can tell people you're a huge fan of Pellegrino."

She turns the vase of flowers around so Betty can see the little red star on the logo.

"But it's entirely up to you. Whatever you're comfortable with."

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