00? ( video. ) not sarissa, tho.

[magnitudes]

( There is a woman on screen who looks remarkably unconcerned.

She also looks familiar, possibly, given that the family resemblance between Sarissa and her grandmother is staggering. Notable differences – this woman is obviously wearing something a little more era appropriate for this place, but still not quite right, in faded green and brown cut to match World War II era demands, all practicality. A scar, or an injury in the process of becoming a scar, cuts down from her left cheekbone towards her jaw, and it creases into something like a dimple when she speaks.

Between the knuckles of her fore and index fingers rests a cigar, white smoke curling upwards and blooming outwards like a drop of ink twisting through water. Her accent, when she speaks, is markedly Greek. )

I have always heard America called the “Land of Opportunity.” Opportunity— ( A small gesture with her free hand, palm flat and facing down - so-so. )

Maybe. Feet draggers, I think, more likely. And poor filing, ah? That is definite.

( There is a little smile, though it’s not a very mirthful thing, as she picks up a file. ) I was giving the paperwork for a Sarissa Theron. They insist it’s mine, but— no. If anyone knows this woman, I think it better these papers get back to safe hands.

( Her smile widens, sharpens. )

My name is Eunike. For the record? This is— cock and balls. Bullshit. Dragging us from our own wars, to fight theirs? That is convenient, no? Cowardice, I think.


( Note: this is related to the Dial Straits plot. Sarissa ported out on the 1st March and this is set on the 3rd – for those two days Sarissa’s device would have been disconnected. Now is back in action, but in the wrong hands. )

Comments

[doubleblind]

[Cosima's smile drops slightly. One day, she thinks, meeting a new clone will be easy, but it's definitely not today.]

That's me. Yeah? I hope you're still willing to give this American a chance.

The women of this family, they are difficult

[magnitudes]

I don't know. Your fiancée is obnoxious and your countrymen here have been childish. Your sister, she is bratty. I am concerned by the company you keep.

( And her head tilts to the side. )

But perhaps you are not all bad. Your parents are Greek, yes? Sarah said you had different parents. ( And Cosima's and is Greek, so: hope. )-

[doubleblind]

First of all, my fiance and sister are British, don't go blaming that on America. And they're delights. Trust me. You'll learn to love them.

[The Greek ancestry assumption earns her the most confused look.]

I don't think so? My parents are academic hippies who wanted me to have a unique name. Is it really Greek?

[magnitudes]

I see. ( All of that is... disappointing, but not surprising. She rolls her shoulders, thinking, and the gesture might seem weirdly familiar. )

So: tell the delightful Clara not to lecture me on what it means to survive warfare, and perhaps she will be tolerable. ( Her smile is sharp. ) Tell Sarah to stop being so dramatic.

And yes, Greek. From Saint Cosmas. He and his brother Damian were patron saints of medical doctors— physicians. Your name day would be... ( And she clicks her tongue a couple of times, remembering. ) August twenty-fourth. ( Her smile is crooked, for a moment. ) I had a little brother, with same name day. Name days are more important than birthdays, in a way.

[doubleblind]

I couldn't get them to do as I said if I tried. [Cosima dismisses her complaints with a wave of the hand, much happier to focus on the more interesting topic: Learning more about her name.]

Medical doctors, huh? Well, I'm a biologist, that kinda counts even if some argue I'm not a real doctor. What happens on name days? Do you get cake?

[magnitudes]

( She barks a laugh. ) Then you are definitely not Greek.

( And a wave of her hand, cigar held between two fingers. )

Not like a birthday cake. Friends and neighbours, they come around, bring food or flowers. Little things. I was surprised a girl would have a Greek sounding name that was so unusual. Traditional names, some of them do not have name days, if they are from before Our Lord - old names, you know? They might celebrate on All Saints instead. "Sarissa" isn't a name, it's a type of weapon. That's not right for a child. If her family are Greek, they're probably bastards. Names are important - you like the ties your name has, I think.

[doubleblind]

And people say I talk too much.

Are you saying I'm unusual or Sarissa is unusual?

[magnitudes]

Sarissa is an unusual name, Cosima is... good. Traditional. I don't know you enough to say if you are unusual, aside from how you dress.

[doubleblind]

Don't be jealous because I'm the hot one.

[Cosima, no.]

[magnitudes]

"Hot"? ( She can figure out the meaning from context, but looks more amused than anything. ) You are a vain little girl, I think.

[doubleblind]

[Cosima just laughs. It's nothing she hasn't heard before. Well, except the little part.]

Man, how old are you? I can't be that much younger than you...

[magnitudes]

Twenty-three.

( Her smile is-- sharkish. ) Most people here act like children even if they are not. Age is immaterial.

[doubleblind]

Twenty-three? Seriously? You're making me feel old.

[magnitudes]

Oh? How old are you, Cosima?

[doubleblind]

29... [She waves one hand in a small circle] Ish? It's hard to keep track of my age here.

[magnitudes]

Clever scientist struggles to count.

( Her smile is more teasing, and less like a weapon. ) This seems a strange sort of place. Do you like it here?

[doubleblind]

Wow, harsh.

[But Cosima's grinning. Gentle teasing is a time honored clone tradition. This feels infinitely more natural than any other part of their conversation.]

It's... There are parts of it I love, other parts aren't so great.