open — an inspector calls.

[perceptual]

Who: Helly and YOU!
When: Last week of Christmas
Where: Your very home...
Open/Closed: Open
Applicable Warnings: n/a, will update as necessary!



You open your door to find a cheery redhead standing on your doorstep with a plate of cookies resting in the palm of her hand. If you look closely at the cookies, it's pretty obvious that they're shortbread from the store and definitely not homemade – but it's rude to stare, so don't scrutinise too closely.

"Hi!" Helly says brightly. "I'm Helly. I live on this street. I just moved here." A meaningful pause, with some deliberate emphasis on that phrase that hopefully makes sense, before she adds, "I was wondering if you wanted a cookie."

Maybe this is a little too close to the memory of the salesman for anyone's comfort, but Helly's thought about this. The only way to go door to door asking questions of people without rousing too much suspicion is to lace it thickly in the false pearly-white cheer of Sweetwater, until she can get some privacy. She rustles the cookies on the plate a little insistently, and lifts her eyebrows in what she hopes is an understandably meaningful way.

OOC — as I said in the CR meme, Helly is going door-to-door to introduce herself and try to suss out who here is in a similar boat to her. You can tag in if you'd like to meet her and thread out a conversation, OR we can just handwave that our characters have met in advance of the event!

Comments

[perceptual]

"Oh, definitely not. I don't think I could spread holiday cheer if I tried." She sets the plate of cookies down on the nearest surface, where it's at least in friendly company. "I'm..." It has occurred to her that maybe these people are adept at pretending, at giving off the energy of someone she can trust when the reality couldn't be further from the truth. But they're just not subtle enough – at least, they haven't seemed that way to her yet. "I'm trying to scope the place out. Get a grip on who's here, who came here from... somewhere else."

[workingthenumbers]

That puts Numbers on alert. If she was someone from the local housing authority, surely she'd know who was new in the neighborhood, right? His eyes narrow ever so slightly. It's very likely that she's another person unsure of why or how she arrived in Sweetwater--out of time, and out of place. He's not one to elect information about himself if he can help it--not without scoping out the other party's intentions. And not until the other party has divulged what they know.

He decides to test the waters.

"Somewhere else," he repeats in an unaffected tone. "Where are you from, if I may ask?"

[perceptual]

Helly waits a moment, letting the silence hang between them. He's said nothing that avails himself to her so far, but his casual tone is nothing like the beaming naïveté of the native townspeople. He's not looking at her like she's stupid, he's looking at her like he's trying to work her out, figure out where she stands. And honestly, she gets it. She's the one who came here, into his house, and started asking questions. If he wants to be on his guard, then that's only fair.

"Somewhere called Lumon," she says eventually. It's easier to say that than explaining any more – and anyone who recognises the name will recognise it whether she explains it or not. A beat, and then she ventures to add, "Most people haven't heard of it. But it's a long way from here. I wouldn't be able to get back there if I tried."

[workingthenumbers]

Numbers raises a single eyebrow when she says the name "Lumon". A town, maybe? He's been through places with stranger names. He contextualizes it with something he's familiar with, and pictures a lonely, snow-covered town in the backwoods of North Dakota. This information seems to demonstrate that she's someone from outside of this place--but is she trustworthy? That depends. Trust is a valuable resource in his line of business, one that Numbers doesn't give so easily to strangers.

His reply a simple, noncommittal "Hm." There's a brief pause as he considers what he should tell her. For a few moments, it seems as though he might not reply.

"I'm from Minnesota." Not technically a lie. He was finishing up a job before he found himself here. It's stated nonchalantly enough that anyone overhearing might be forgiven in thinking he was making light conversation. "Wasn't exactly looking to move to a different state, but sometimes, these things just happen. Not sure if I like the neighborhood, either."