Maize

Imogen hung around after she was done her part in the fields. It was pretty amusing at first and a good experience but easily something she would never do again unless someone paid her in more than just food. She wolved down her Salsberry steak before it could get cold, leaving her with some mash potatoes and vegetable medley that she picked that. Of course, there was also corn on her plate too that she pushed off to the side with her fork. She could be found on one of those old picnic benches as she pressed the cold beer on her cheek before taking a sip from it. As the day drew to a close and the locals returned home, she lingered around to people watch.

Having finished with the harvest, Jean devoured the meal offered, making sure to remain afterward to thank the cooking staff as well as trying to find the local person responsible for the offerings. He wanted to offer his thanks to the people involved. This turned out to be a fair number of people, Jean spending a good while chattering with various geezers and grannies. They all seemed to be rather impressed that a foreigner had ended in their town, all too curious if Canada was as deviant as they had heard. Jean tried to dodge most of these questions, apologizing for his poor English and using it as an excuse not to take sides when politics came up. It seemed that the Trudeau fellow was not well like here, even if he ruled over the neighboring country. This puzzled Jean to a no-end. Meanwhile, king Trump seemed to have the support of the people. This did not surprise Jean much, it was often the rural communities that were the most ardent supporters of the royalty.

Spotting Imogen at the side, mostly thanks to her macabre looks, Jean made his way to her, greeting her with a wave of his hand. "Imogen. I saw you before. Quite the thing, eh?" he nodded at the harvest they had collected. "They won't go hungry this winter."

Saw me before? Nooo!? Imogen couldn't help but think in a sarcastic sense. However, she knew she should tone her reaction down for her fellow Lost and he likely had a language barrier to contend with. With that in mind, she gave him a wave back and gave him a deep nod. "Ayep, Imogen, that's me. It's probably the first time I've done anything farming related and I know quite a few people would even pay for an experience like this. While I'm sure this may help them, I think they need more than just corn to feed themselves. They still need steak, beer and TV."

After the work was done, she began to feel the chill in the air once more. Despite being near 50 degrees, it wasn't warm enough to go without a jacket - especially when one was wearing only half a shirt and had as much skin exposed to the air as was covered by clothing. She simply wandered for a little while, a beer in one hand that she continuously transferred to the other. It was ... kind of painful to be carrying around a cold bottle on a cold day. It made her hands sting.

Avoiding the locals became her mission in life. Oh, not because she had anything against them ... not at all. But they kept asking her about the antics of Boris Johnson, the new British prime minister. Boris? Really? Were there Russians on 10 Downing Street now? She was already reeling over the fact that the Soviet Union had collapsed in 1991 - she had lived her entire life in the shadow of a mushroom cloud.

But ... Boris? She grimaced as she walked. She really should know the answers to the questions she was asked, but she didn't. Next time she stopped at a library to get warm, she had to remember to do a little reading on this bloke. Apparently he was quite a character even if ... what was it called? Oh ... Brexit ... was going to put Britain in the knackers yard.

Tiffani then spotted Jean and Imogen sitting at a picnic table and she giggled quietly thinking of the name "Sleeping Beauty." She sauntered up to the two of them, asking, "Mind if I join you?"

Imogen was tired and hard of hearing, it seemed. It felt like she had just left a concert or she was still on a flight, which was probably why it took a short delay for her to notice Tiffany approaching them. "Oh, you're here too? Sure, of course. Please. I think you already know Gene. I mean, Jean."

Tiffani was giving thought to moving on when Imogen replied. She looked over at Jean - the barest hint of a frown marring her otherwise beauteous face, and nodded.

"I do indeed. Hello, Jean." Though there was no animosity present in her voice, given what happened in that wretched bar, she didn't expect a response. Instead, she slid onto the bench with her plate of food, putting it and a half-drunk bottle of beer on the table.

"A picnic in November - now there's a novel idea. Why didn't anyone ever think of this before?" Tiffani quipped with typical English dryness. She picked up her fork with a hand that trembled a little from the cold. Ever since she stopped exerting herself with the farm work, the temperature - though relatively mild - was starting to get to her. "Anyhow, I trust I'm not interrupting anything?" Her grey eyes slid back and forth between the two questioningly.

"Interrupting anything? Nooo, nah." Imogen gave an insistent shake of her head at Tiffani before taking a sip of beer. She didn't want to be alone with Jean, especially considering she would like very much to buffer his holier-than-though attitude. Jean might have been holier, but that didn't make him right. "We were just grabbing a seat and watching the very upstanding folks here."

"Whew." She took the collar of her shirt and fanned herself in an impractical manner than probably didn't do much to cool her off. "That was quite a work out earlier, wasn't it?" There could have been a chance she was talking about the harvest but probably most likely talking about something else.

Tiffani played with her food as much as she ate it - especially the corn.

"Are you actually hot?" she asked Imogen rather incredulously. "Here I am freezing my arse off. "

She seems almost fascinated with the corn, pushing the kernals this way and that on her plate as if she expected to find the answer to this high strangeness right there in front of her.

"Anyway ... hello again, Jean!" she repeated in a cheerier than normal voice. She even gave him a little wave with her other hand.

Turning back to Imogen she says, "I don't think he likes me much. Unfortunately, you and I were ... uh ... altered just a little too much to be good people. If only we had had Keepers that liked us for who we were." She grins, but it's rather feral than jovial.

Tiffani shrugs then and chugs down quite a few ounces of beer. "Well, whatever the case ... I won't keep on keeping on about that. Living through it once was nightmare enough without repeating it. So how'd the photography go the other night? Any sign of those pesky probing aliens from Zeta Reticuli?"

Imogen stopped playing with her shirt and looked at Tiffani with a coy grin. "I'd like to think so, at least. Actually, I'm pretty sure I know so. But yeah, it was a bit of a run to get back here in time to catch dinner. I figured I should squeeze all of the benefits from my hard work if I was going to put my blood, sweat and back into it."

There was an awkward pause after she might have realized what she said and she gave a long look at the fields and the people who emerged from it after their hard work today. And especially about the Keeper situation, especially moments ago was a reminder of how typically how such a relationship can really emerge to haunt you in the worst way possible. Not exactly something you'd wish on another Lost, even in passing.

After laying down her plastic fork down, she brushed some loose hair behind some of her other accessories on her head. "Nah, nothing appeared. No aliens and not even any baseball players. I think I did see something in those fields but that wasn't exactly in this setting," she said eluding to her dreams.

Imogen Baker wrote: ↑

Wed Jan 22, 2020 12:09 am

Saw me before? Nooo!? Imogen couldn't help but think in a sarcastic sense. However, she knew she should tone her reaction down for her fellow Lost and he likely had a language barrier to contend with. With that in mind, she gave him a wave back and gave him a deep nod. "Ayep, Imogen, that's me. It's probably the first time I've done anything farming related and I know quite a few people would even pay for an experience like this. While I'm sure this may help them, I think they need more than just corn to feed themselves. They still need steak, beer and TV."

"The corn should pay for that." Jean nodded, missing her sarcasm entirely. "Glad to see whole community working together like this. Makes you have some faith in people." He had some opinions about the people in the big cities.

"Anyway ... hello again, Jean!" she repeated in a cheerier than normal voice. She even gave him a little wave with her other hand.


Turning back to Imogen she says, "I don't think he likes me much. Unfortunately, you and I were ... uh ... altered just a little too much to be good people. If only we had had Keepers that liked us for who we were." She grins, but it's rather feral than jovial.

"Oh hello." Jean bobbed his head at Tiffani. "Quite the day eh." First there had been the harvest and then there had been a fight with the demon with an iron steed. Jean kinda wanted one of those for himself. Running around was lame and he was fairly sure he could swing his sword from atop of one. He was fairly certain that one would cost more than he had on himself, though. Unfortunately or Jean, he had no idea about driver's licenses or the maintenance such vehicles demanded.

"Oh, I don't hate either of you, ladies." Jean set to settle the 'misunderstanding'. Devil is vile as he is cunning and his means know now bounds. "It's not for me to judge my fellow humans." Mostly humans. "That is God's providence." he added with a solemn tone. "Still, uh, I am not sure my demon liked me much. There were all sorts of things, ones that I won't repeat in this company, that made it clear that she was not very fond of me."

"Also, what is this talk about aliens? Are there Spaniards here?" he asked, confused. "I have never heard of Zeta Reticuli but it does sound like Spanish alright."