489/Playing With Fire

Playing With Fire
Date of Scene:	24 August 2014
Location:	Njorun Station - Cafeteria
Synopsis:	Ziggy tries to make friends with Frederica. It's... awkward.
Cast of Characters:	73, Ziggy Grover

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Frederica (73) has posed:
    After a long day working, Frederica finally is done. Time to go home, relax, eat. Only... well, for her, eating isn't exactly something she can do at home. Not if she wants to relax, that is. She's not a great cook. Okay, she's actually a really lousy cook. Marie was always the cook, not Frederica. Fred was the one to come to if you wanted something burned, not something edible.

    She's not exactly an uncommon sight here. The food's good, and her service record is such that she's more than welcome. She does, however, sit alone. She might not be immediately recognizable, however. While her outfit's much the same as it was the first time she met Ziggy, she's swept the hood back to reveal her long blonde hair. It's not that Frederica's hard to recognize or anything, it's just that, well, that ear-raised hood of hers is VERY eye-catching, and it's rather easy to just notice it rather than noticing the girl within.

Ziggy Grover has posed:
The last time Ziggy Grover had seen Frederica, she'd been dressed up like... well, like a little girl with a cat-eared hood, saying how nicely she could demonstrate a fire spell.

One almost got the impression, from the way she -talked- and looked at him, that Ziggy might have made a teensy weensy error in trying to free a prisoner being tortured, mostly because he'd turned out to be a (not virgin-specialized) rapist.

And whenever Ziggy made an error, he'd try and schmooze his way into making up for it so that he wouldn't be burned too badly when his -next- error came along...

Tray in front of him, a pizza slice, cake, and orange juice loaded, Ziggy asks, "May I sit down?"

And then rather than wait for her to answer, he sits down, and begins tactic number one of 'making amends the Ziggy way': Talking. Which, incidentally, was also tactic two and three. Four and five involved Shadow Puppets and Magic Tricks, but that worked best with kids... which, it appeared, she -wasn't- with her hood down. "Good to see you again," says the curly-haired man, momentarily forgetting that the girl hasn't seen him without the helmeted suit on.

Frederica (73) has posed:
    It might well be for the best that Frederica doesn't recognize Ziggy. She can't hold that first impression against him after all. No, she has an entirely NEW first impression to hold against him instead. Instantly, taking in his pushiness, his joining her uninvited, his... well, his MALEness, her impression's quickly formed. Typical boy. Hitting on her. She has absolutely no reason to believe otherwise.

    Now, never let it be said Frederica hates being considered attractive. She wears revealing skirts that show off thigh, shirts that show off shoulder and what little bosom she has. She LIKES to be appreciated and admired. She just doesn't like being used, and she has the mistaken impression that that's all most boys want. And of course, the thought of being used and then discarded is one of those things that makes Frederica ... well, irrational.

    Frederica's own food is decidedly asian. Rice, vegetables, some sort of unidentifiable meat and sauce, definitely chopsticks. She frowns up at the Ranger, looking annoyed. This isn't an uncommon expression. "Looks like you already did." she states, trying to be gracious. Well okay, she's not trying very hard. Still, she's quick. Quick to judge, and quick to reacto. "What do you mean, 'again'?" she asks, narrowing her eyes further, squinting at Ziggy and studying him Something's familiar, she supposes, but that could just be her familiarity with personnel dossiers or something.

Ziggy Grover has posed:
Oh, Ziggy wasn't -hitting- on her as much as -schmoozing-. Sure, her gender mattered, but what Ziggy wanted, primarily, was to be accepted, which is why Ziggy takes a bite out of the pizza, wipes his hands with a napkin as he chews, and notes, "Well, we met before at, uh, Faruja's place. You know, the inquisitor, the escaped prisoner, the whole 'blast it with fire!' thing...?" he says, using his hands as a proxy in gesturing the whole 'give and take' conversation. "Oh, you probably don't recognize me without the helmet?"

Hands reaches up, as though shaping the helmet, followed by a little pointy fin at the top, like a shark. "Kinda recognizable yet? No wait, this might make it easier..."

Pulling back in his chair, Ziggy stands, strikes a heroic pose with one hand to his hip and the other arm with his morpher held in front of him like a shield. "Good guys don't -torture-!"

Frederica (73) has posed:
    Oh yes, Frederica remembers. The mention of Faruja and the prisoner is plenty. Then of course Ziggy goes on, mentioning the helmet, demonstrating, then standing up and posing. It's almost enough to make a girl cringe and feel embarrassed.

    Of course Frederica herself is no stranger to the spotlight. Or to looking like a fool for that matter. No one could possibly fail to notice her hood and how it makes her look more like a kid than a grown woman, and yet she does it anyways. She could also, under other circumstances, quite understand a person just wanting to be accepted.

    Reaching back to fluff her hair-tails forward, Frederica shakes her head. Either to settle the hairtails or in dismay. "Everyone's looking at you." she says drearily, then sighs. "Sit down. You're making yourself look like a fool." she insists. If she'd been thinking, of course, she might have told Ziggy just to go away. She probably has a soft spot for people making fools of themselves however. That soft spot being somewhere right between her ears perhaps. "And you might think twice before deciding what your allies can and can't do." she lectures, frowning.

Ziggy Grover has posed:
"Fool? Me? Well, it's probably better than being called an -idiot-," Ziggy replies affably, hands going to his chest in a 'me?' gesture, before he pulls his seat back and sits down quite properly. "It's not the first time, it's not likely to be the last."

Reaching down to pick up the partly congealed pizza, which has cooled down enough that it wasn't -dripping- cheese- off the crust, Ziggy lowers his head just enough to catch the strings of cheese and munch his way up towards the pizza slice itself.

"Mmph," Ziggy lifts his eyebrows in a wordless appeal style manner as he chews. After he's done with his bite, the erstwhile Power Ranger taps the table. "I'm still picking up on the... what is it, intricate diplomatic stuff here." His hands move towards Frederica, then himself. "Like, you do this, I do that, we can't step on each other's views, because we've got to pull together and work for the greater good. That's the main thing, right? So the diplomacy, I sort of leave it to the people who're better at it than me, I just... do things that're -right-, though. They got to feel right. Don't you feel that way?"

Frederica (73) has posed:
    Fool, idiot, what matters is what Frederica's thinking about Ziggy rather than the words she uses. It's true she's mellowed somewhat, not speaking her mind quite as often or as sharply as she once might. There's been quite a socializing force on her, both by her allies and by the gentle influence of her Abstractum device. She just shakes her head. "Idiot." she mutters, but she's careful to say it quietly enough so it doesn't carry. Insults are fine. Public insults are another matter entirely. Besides, she's not entirely sure how sincere she is in the statement.

    "Diplomacy is easy." Frederica says after a bit, sighing. It's not her strong point, but she's managed it when called to account. "And if it's not easy, you might keep this in mind." she explains, condescending to instruct poor Ziggy. "Union command knows what it's doing. Some of our allies may do a few things we don't always agree with. Some of our allies are assassins, some pacifists, some ... well, all kinds of things. In some worlds and situations, that sort of thing's necessary. If we don't trust everyone's judgement though, we can at least trust Command. If someone's been welcomed to the Union, even if they do things you don't agree with, they're still 'good guys'. Probably." she claims. "Or at least we can if we're wise enough to trust them. I know *I* am wise enough for that. I'm not so sure about *you*." she adds, trying on a smirk. It's not terribly convincing.

    Absently, Frederica returns her concentration to her food, manipulating the chopsticks with effortless ease. She glances up though, just as she's about to take in a mouthful. "I-I hear you helped Faruja. After that incident." she says in a subdued voice, becoming slightly embarrassed, filling the sudden silence with action as she fills her mouth instead. Maybe there's a reason she's taking this a bit personally? About trusting in allies if wiser heads trust them?

Ziggy Grover has posed:
Scratching his neck briefly, Ziggy takes another bite or two out of his pizza, as he considers. "Well, I don't -know- everything about Union Command. I just know what I'm supposed to do, and what I'm not supposed to do, and sometimes, though, I act on my conscience anyway."

Hands shifts to cover his face, as he peeks briefly between his fingers. "Uh, which incident...?" There were a couple he could think of. "The dungeon incident, or uh, saving the enemy general from getting obliterated?"

A sheepish smile crosses his face. "I mean, I was trying to be sure I was doing the right thing, and saving lives. Even if they're your enemies. Because you know, doing the right thing means maybe they'll do the right thing by you when it's their turn."

Frederica (73) has posed:
    In spite of Frederica's tendency towards petty violence and her incredibly destructive power, or perhaps because of it, Frederica's actually surprisingly tender-hearted. While she can kill when necessary, she never does so without a strong pang of regret. Perhaps she can understand the mercy that led Ziggy to defend an enemy. Perhaps she can appreciate putting ones self at risk to do the right thing.

    Not that she'd ever admit it of course. Frederica? Soft-hearted? AS IF.

    "You'd think you'd have learned from the last time you tried to let a vicious criminal go free." Frederica states testily. There's a difference, of course. Freeing a criminal from his just fate is entirely different from showing mercy to an opponent. "I suppose you must be crazy. Unfortunately, that's the sort of crazy that a lot of people around here tend to like." she adds. She is, unfortunately, one of them. people who are fearless in battle and in defense of their principles, well, that meshes all too well with her own upbringing. And with the few people outside her own family that she's found... not INTERESTING, but distressingly difficult to get out of her head.

Ziggy Grover has posed:
Grasping the edge of the table with his hands, Ziggy lean forward. "Shh, let's not bring -that- up again. Besides, in this case, you don't just -execute- a General in combat when she's already been just about beaten. I just wanted to give her the chance to surrender. Although her, uh, aide caught us and grabbed her away. At least Faruja wasn't mad -afterwards-. But boy he was upset early... and I guess they -do- think I'm crazy, but it's really... you know, it makes perfect sense if you look at it from my angle, right?"

Ziggy tilts his head, studying Frederica curiously now. "You know, you look a lot younger with the hood on. Is that like, a tradition in your world, to dress up like a cat?"

Frederica (73) has posed:
    Frederica can well imagine the spirited ratling's anger, and she does her best to hide a smile. She likes the little guy for his courage, his steadfastness, and the respect he shows her. "I hear that's the first sign you're really crazy." she says, rather maliciously. "Thinking everything makes sense when everyone else thinks otherwise?"

    Still, she can't hold that maliciousness for long, not when Ziggy makes mention of her hood. Oddly, he's the first person who's actually spoken of it directly to her. Most others are amused by it, or ignore it, or assume it's a cultural thing they shouldn't draw attention to. It immediately makes her self-conscious, and she reaches back to pat the hood. Yes, it's still there, draped down between her shoulderblades. Flat against her back, the ears don't protrude and draw attention to themselves, leaving the whole thing looking like a mini-cape.

    Frederica withdraws her hand, frowning. "It IS a tradition from my world." she lies self-consciously. Well okay, her world consisted of 19 people by the end. 19 that mattered. Anything she'd done for half her life was a tradition for a significant part of the population! She reaches back once again, drawing up the hood, the ears popping upright as she settles the hood down. "It's adorable." she claims defensively. "And it's NOT a cat. Not that there's anything wrong with cats. Some of my best friends have had cat ears. But take a closer look. Far too long to be cat ears." she claims, disgruntled.

Ziggy Grover has posed:
"Well only if everyone else don't change their minds afterwards," Ziggy wrings his hands nervously. "I mean, Faruja kinda understood afterwards. Besides, it's better if you can make your enemies your friends. And hope your friendship's stronger than the desire to rend you from limb to limb."

Eyeing his cake slice, Ziggy motions. "Want this cake? I think I'm full." After one slice of pizza, and an about to be chugged orange juice? No wonder Ziggy looked like a good wind could blow him over.

Plus, it was a good idea to settle the defensiveness down. "Well, what else has pointy ears...? Fox? Cat?" He makes little pointy silhouettes using his thumbs and index fingers. "Bat? Oh wait, hold on."

Whipping up the napkin, and then producing a pen light, which he hands to Frederica, Ziggy continues on. "Shine the light this way, and..."

Shadow puppets! one that looks like a fangy bat. No? Mewling cat! No? ... Fox?

Frederica (73) has posed:
    Frederica has a sweet tooth, to be sure. However, she's got her dignity to preserve! Yes, this is terribly ironic considering she's wearing a fox-eared hoodie. Or perhaps bat-eared. Hard to say. Either way, she looks down at the cake with disdain. She shakes her head, not bothering to state her disinterest. Or perhaps, just unwilling to lie aloud.

    She does accept the light however, not sure what Ziggy's up to. When he begins his shadow-play she looks on, at first intrigued. Then she becomes amused, then bemused. "You CAN'T be serious." she says, shaking her head. She reaches up once again to flip the hood off, shifting to let it fall back against her chair more comfortably. "Well, at least you're not completely blind." she says, not admitting which of his guesses were right. "Even if you're a bit of an idiot." she says, switching the light off and setting it down, not even handing it back, as if she's afraid to risk reaching out towards him in even that way.

Ziggy Grover has posed:
The cake is left there, right underneath Frederica's nose. That dark, chocolate goodness. Complete with frosting. DOUBLE CHOCOLATE sinfulness. And with chocolate shavings too, which would make it... TRIPLE chocolate. Could that really be something to ignore? It remains unclaimed as Ziggy puts down the napkin and flexes his fingers.

"It's a talent," Ziggy replies, more to the 'not completely blind' than the 'bit of an idiot'. Though Doctor K would quite affirmatively agree with the latter. "So, you're totally foxy, then. A tradition, that's a good thing. Whatever helps you feel connected to other people." Fingers gestures once again, making a semblance of -something- that could almost be seen as a fox. "It's an interesting tradition, anyway... are other animals involved? Pandas? Dogs? Or is it just foxes?"

Frederica (73) has posed:
    Frederica wouldn't object to being called foxy, not if an idiot boy hasn't said it anyways. As it stands though, that just makes her more sure of his unsavory intent. That's the thing about irrationality. It's self-selecting and self-confirming.

    That IS a nice-looking cake. And nice-smelling too. Chocolate... mmm. But of course she has to remember it's source, right? And that source is questioning her. "It's whatever I feel like." she answers, deciding on the nature of this tradition totally on the spur of the moment. "If I feel like being a cat, I can do that any time I want. I haven't tried a bear in years." she says. "What about you?" she challenges. "That helmet of yours. Is it some kind of fish? Maybe a lizard?" she asks. Probably she's trying to put him on the defensive, but she sounds like she might, almost, be curious.

Ziggy Grover has posed:
"Anything you want...? So you've got a lot of hoods?" Now Ziggy looks rather pleased. "Do the boys wear anything like that? Because I don't know, I really like this jacket. It sorts of makes you look like, well... as tough as leather." Ziggy tugs at the lapels of the jacket before blinking. "Oh... the uniform? It's supposed to be a shark. I'm a -shark- ranger." Bringing his hands up in claw gestures, Ziggy grawrs.

Unfortunately for him, it looks more like a spastic twitch than a fearsome roar.

Frederica (73) has posed:
    Frederica shrugs a pale shoulder. "Wear what you like. You're not a part of my world." she says dismissively, with a cool tsun's disdain. "I make my own hoods, so I can make whatever I like. I made the entire outfit, except for the vest. That was done by miss Rarity." she adds, sounding... proud? Fashion's important to Frederica, apparently, and there's no one more fashionable in her eyes than a beautiful pony who...well, typically doesn't wear clothes. Oh well.

    "Tough as leather?" Frederica asks, considering. "That sounds like a description of bad meat. But if that's what you like, go ahead. Except what are you doing?" she asks, lifting up her fingers, hooking her 'claws' in imitation, grinning in amusement. "Do sharks have claws where you're from?" she asks mockingly.

Ziggy Grover has posed:
"Oh you did that all by yourself?" Now Ziggy looks positively awed. "Congratulations! Eat up... wait, you don't like chocolate cake?" Peering at the cake, Ziggy considers. "Are you sure?" he asks, beginning to reach for it, before pausing.

"Er... sharks... don't have claws where I'm from, no. I just, you know... dramatic effect. Besides, shark rangers have hands!" Waving his hands, wiggling his fingers, Ziggy adds, "See, shark rangers fight monsters, and they've got to be bigger and stronger and cause nightmares only for the bad guys. So they've got to be -fearsome- and strong and brave."

Frederica (73) has posed:
    Frederica's actually very good at clothing design. Having very particular ideas on clothing and ... well, and having adolescence come and go while trapped underground with around twenty people, she had to learn. Each of them had their own activities. Cooking, sewing, meditating... and so Frederica took up fashion. It's not like she'd trust anyone else's taste in clothing!

    Frederica makes an abrupt stabbing motion with her chopstick, moving as if she's intending to impale Ziggy's hand as it reaches for 'her' cake. She doesn't follow through though, and whether he flinches from the strike or not her weapon won't reach where his hand would have been. "I'll have it, but only if you haven't put your mouth or your fingers all over it." she says testily. "If you're full, you'll just bite into it once and the rest will go to waste, and you shouldn't have gotten it if you were just going to waste it." she insists. There, it's not like she WANTS it or anything.

    She shakes her head. "I can SEE you're good at causing nightmares." she claims sarcastically. "Not so sure about you being fearsome or strong. And it's not bravery if you're just too stupid to be afraid." she says, but there's a hint that she's just teasing. Maybe.

Ziggy Grover has posed:
"Whoa, whoa...!" Pulling his hands back, Ziggy eyes the cake. "I can assure you," Ziggy says, holding up an index finger, "that I have not laid one single finger on the slice. And if you didn't -want- it, I was just going to take a few bites and then throw it away so it wouldn't go -entirely- to waste. But since you're not going to let it go -entirely- to waste, you can have it." All this is delivered with a perfectly solemn, serious face, followed by a very carefully set pressing of his lips as he looks back down at his hands folded before him.

"Hey, I'm not -stupid-. And I'll have you know I get -very- afraid too. But if I don't do it, then who will? I don't want to let down people in the first place, so I -have- to do it. Think of the children everywhere who look up to the Power Rangers! Do you really -want- to tear down their hopes and dreams? I think not! I certainly won't do that!"

Frederica (73) has posed:
    Well then. He hasn't touched the cake? Frederica looks at it, studying it. Probably checking for finger prints. Not finding any, she presses into the cake with the edge of one chopstick. No, chopsticks aren't really the best sort of thing for cake, but she's not about to eat with her fingers and she'll manage. Somehow.

    She pauses when Ziggy mentions getting afraid. Does he know? She'd been rather humiliated by fear recently, but she hasn't heard anyone mention it. Narrowing her eyes suspiciously, she listens. But no, she doesn't think he's mocking her. Probably not.

    Finally she purses her lips thoughtfully, shrugging one last time. "I suppose that's fair. I wouldn't want you to let people down." she says coolly. Then she quickly ruins any sympathy she may be showing. "Does anyone really look up to you?" she asks dubiously. Then, seeming to sense that her words may be harsher than even she'd intended, and unfair besides, she clarifies. "I don't know anything about your world, I mean. If people would or not. Where I'm from, people like me were rare. Not heroes... usually not even known at all. Feared, maybe."

Ziggy Grover has posed:
"Well we have to... I mean, we're not exactly the -greatest- bunch ever, but we're all they've got to stand up against Venjix," Ziggy replies, as he leans back. "I mean, it's almost literally a city against a whole world of grinders and computer viruses. I wasn't even -supposed- to be a Power Ranger, but... things happened."

Frowning, Ziggy considers Frederica, before shrugging. "Anyway, I just wanted to say hi. See if, you know, no hard feelings about that whole incident. So if you feel inclined, just call. Ask for Grover. Ziggy Grover."

Frederica (73) has posed:
    Frederica supposes she can understand what it's like. Parts of the story are familiar. She didn't ASK to be thrown into the fight for her world. She didn't ask to be one the side that lost... that couldn't even risk entering the fight, for it would mean certain death. She's chosen to fight, then and now, but only because she couldn't just stand by. That, and because she wanted her power to MEAN something besides being a force of mindless destruction. They were five... plus a few more, but mostly five. Five against the rulers of an entire world. Things happened.

    She almost misses what Ziggy says next. Almost. She does catch it though, before she ends up going maudlin over memories. "No hard feelings... oh. Right, I did kind of threaten to turn you to ash." she says. Frederica doesn't have the grace to look sheepish or ashamed. She looks rather mischevious, if not outright malicious. "Have no fear on that count... Grover. My fire only burns those who deserve it." she insists. "I may have offered to burn you to Faruja and the other inquisitor, but that's only because my fire is faster than her spell. And more accurate and selective. And deadly, come to think of it." she grins. "Since I offered, it gave us all a chance to... talk. And if you'd turned out to be evil, we'd have lost nothing but a little time."

    Taking up a near-perfect square of chocolate cake, Frederica deposits it in her mouth with a slow, careful motion. Somehow, she tries not to show that she likes the cake. It's not terribly effective, but she tries. Mmmmm. After a moment she turns her gaze upwards again. Her previous words aren't forgotten. "So yes, anyways, if I ever DO burn you, you can be sure it's because you deserved it." she says offhandedly, grinning.

Ziggy Grover has posed:
Blink.

"Oh right. I'll... I'll do my best to make sure I don't -deserve- it," Ziggy replies, pulling his hands back. And the chair a bit. Yes, yes, just getting up, not retreating in a hurry. "So we're good here, and there'll be no fire or burnt cinders or, god forbid, Ziggy flambe. I wouldn't taste good. I might smell good, but that's because I manage to shower regularly. Because smelling good really helps..."

"Ranger Green, report in," Dr. K radios in, over the rev morpher. Quite loudly and publicly too.

"... speaking of which, I hear a cold shower calling my name. Bye... um, Freddie," Ziggy replies. Yeah, somewhere he'd learned her name.

As he walks off, Ziggy can be heard muttering, "I wasn't comparing you to -cold water-. -Ice- water, maybe..."