This chapter takes place after Chapter 53 in SFTD.

Was Fal-Mai supposed to be feeling such a strange melancholy at such a "fun" event?

Here she sat at the far corner of the Bar, nursing a glass of water as she watched the rest of the room talk and mingle. She'd heard that one of these little gatherings was going on, and despite her hesitation... she dropped in.

But she felt like an outsider. It wasn't as if the other soldiers were avoiding her, that much she was happy about. There was just nothing to say. Nothing in common with them. As she watched Mordenna, who had attended with her to give her some sort of rock to steady herself on, she was keenly reminded that she was the most alien of the Chosen. Not a former human—just tube-grown. No humanity to go off of. Mordenna talked with the soldiers flawlessly and stole the spotlight, easily able to talk and relate with them. But what could Fal-Mai say to keep them entertained? All of her conversation topics weren't for parties or fun gatherings.

There was the issue of the noise, too. So many different voices. She'd try to tune them out, just to pick up on one conversation, resolve to follow that one, and then another would interrupt that, and another... she felt overwhelmed. Perhaps normally, she could people watch, but combined with her alienation, it made her fingers jitter. Her right hand tapped on the table, trying to give herself a single noise to focus on, something. Something tactile...? Like...

A cube formed in her hand, with one side with a switch on it. She pressed it to one position, where it clicked satisfyingly, though it did nothing. To the other, same thing. Sound and feeling. Fal-Mai rocked her thumb back and forth on the switch, one problem slightly alleviated. She didn't know why, but the stimulation was more bearable with that. She no longer felt like she was being slowly set on fire. Just...

Mordenna gave a parting wave to his group, along with a promise of "that's a bet I'll collect on." He sauntered over, sitting down so his body largely blocked the rest of the Bar from seeing Fal-Mai. "Fals, sister of mine, you look anxious. What's eating you?"

Fal-Mai sighed, still clicking. "I feel as if I am a stranger here—but not enough of a stranger to warrant a complaint. They do not shun me, and I have worked with them in the past. So, why do I...?"

She couldn't put words to it. There was a certain burning in her stomach she got whenever she watched Mordenna chat up the soldiers so easily. Thankfully, he seemed to largely get what she was talking about. "—nothing to talk about with them, huh."

"That's... one issue." Fal-Mai looked at the cube in her palm. "I wish to interact, but there is nothing to say. And if I am not doing this..." She pressed her eyebrows together. The conversations were getting distracting again, and she went back to toying with the cube. "I can't describe it. It's as if all of the talking becomes too much to bear."

Mordenna rubbed his chin at it. "Hm. I'm... on the verge of remembering something about that..." After another second, he shook his head. "Nah, lost it. But basically what I'm getting at there is that's totally fine, Fals. That's just an aspect of you right there. Fidgeting is just a natural thing some of us do. I know I gesture a hell of a lot, and I've gotten shit about it, but whatever. What I'm saying is you shouldn't have to worry about that part much. Still, about having things to say..."

He leaned back in his chair slightly. "Something I've noticed with some of the people around here is that you don't have to have something to say, or necessarily bring to the conversation. If you get someone on a subject they like, and just keep asking questions about certain aspects when appropriate, they'll do a majority of the talking for you, and you'll learn more about them in the process." He jerked his thumb to Sherry, currently laughing with her wife. "Take Sherry. Girl's a whiz at gardening and got her doctorate before ADVENT came and ruined everything. After asking a few leading questions, I now know that mint is a virtually unkillable garden plant that's likely survived the Blight thanks to how hardy and ubiquitous it is. Or the fact that you can make wine with dandelions! And the fact that they actually used to be a curated plant before..." He trailed off, chuckling. "Ok, you get the idea. Some people are frothing at the mouth, looking for an excuse to talk about the things that interest them. Like Eliza and her chickens."

Fal-Mai laughed softly. "I never thought she would be the type to idolize such an animal..."

"Oh, she's adorable and I love her. Just... if you ever want to talk to someone, ask me about what you can open a conversation with. Preface it with 'hey, so Mordenna told me that you know a lot about 'x',' with 'x' naturally being one of their interests. I can give you an in right now, if you want."

Well, after all of those longing looks at the party before her... yeah. She'd like that. Her eyes landed on Benald and Pattie, knowing they were two of the most socially accepting people on the Avenger. "—what about Benald?"

"Oh, you'll love him. Honestly, Fals, he might be the key to you getting a hobby—you'd like cooking!" Mordenna cupped his hands to his mouth. "Yo, Ben! Frost Miser! Over here."

Benald went "alright, just a sec'" to his group and picked up his drink. Pattie, naturally, followed suit and trailed after him as he came over. "'Sup, Mords. What's going on?"

He pointed to Fal-Mai. "Fal-Mai's curious; was there really a time you baked a potato over the course of three days?"

Benald groaned, sliding to sit down at the table, with Pattie following in a snickering chorus. "Well, I might as well tell her, as a cautionary tale about always checking the back of an oven before you make anything else."

Pattie stroked her chin. "Does Fals know how ovens work?"

"Dunno." Benald gestured to her. "Do you?"

Well. She... kind of did? Fal-Mai felt her face heat up. "Not... necessarily."

"Well, shoot, you're learning today. Just means I also get to mouth off about the oven I had to work with at Rycker's Hill. That thing was possessed."

"Ben just kept taking what he could out of it," Pattie followed, "but that thing always smelled like sulfur. Didn't really get onto the food, but it made cooking hell."

"Probably possessed by the spirit of Gordon, telling me I've overcooked everything I've ever put in there." Benald chuckled. "But, back to the point."

From there, Benald went on, explaining how ovens worked—and then running off into a tangent about several other kitchen appliances, adding in some of the ones they had at his and Pattie's old haven, and how they all had their own little quirks. As he talked, Fal-Mai remembered what Mordenna had told her, and occasionally tried to ask questions about things she was unsure about. Sometimes Benald himself didn't know, leading her to worry—but sometimes she asked a question that caused him to go on another tangent, leading to her learning something else new.

Eventually, Benald hummed in thought. "You're a good listener, Fals, and I need someone to help me out baking that won't eat all the cookie dough before I'm done with it." Pattie went "hey!" but he ignored it. "Maybe tomorrow, or whatever's good for you, I could teach you how to bake. Maybe cook, too, I had to learn a lot when I was providing for Rycker's Hill. Interested?"

Mordenna had mentioned something about cooking being a good hobby for her, didn't he? She looked to him, who gave an encouraging nod. Well, it wasn't like she had much else to do in her downtime. She nodded. "I would be honored, Benald."

"Please, if you're gonna be my baking partner, call me Ben." He gave her a finger gun. "And I'm looking forward to working with you. You seem like the attentive type—unlike Pats here, who just wants to eat the end result."

Pattie pouted. "Not my fault you make such good stuff."

"Appreciate the compliment, even if it doesn't really disprove my point."

"Well, whatever." Pattie took a sip of her soda. "I could teach her about sewing, but I guess those Tailors have probably done that..."

"They haven't, actually," Fal-Mai softly corrected. "What do you sew for?"

Pattie's eyes lit up, and Fal-Mai figured she'd be here a while still. If all she needed to do to make new friends was to learn new things... well, she figured she'd fit right in.