Alma Breaks Promises
{{ | date=09/09/2018 | time=9:30 EST | summary=Alexandra frames Alma's life and death decisions as inconvenient notions and Note isn't even around | cast=
| place_name=Outdoor seating at Fountain Bistro, Downtown Campus Martius Park
| place_desc=Campus Martius Park is located at the intersection of Woodward Avenue
and Michigan Avenue. It is where the "point of origin" of Detroit's coordinate
system is located. The point of origin is marked by a medallion embedded in the
stone walkway which is situated in the western point of the diamond surrounding
the Woodward Fountain, just in front of the park's concession building. The
park is also the site of the Civil War-era Michigan Soldiers' and Sailors'
Monument, located across from the new Compuware Headquarters and also includes
two performance stages, sculptures, public spaces and a seasonal ice skating
rink. The city increased the amount of park space in the area by constructing
the new Cadillac Square Park immediately to the east of Campus Martius. The new
park is site of the relocated Bagley Memorial Fountain which previously
occupied a spot on Campus Martius.
Dozens of round, green tables dot the park's green spaces on both sides of the Woodward Fountain and the area around fountain itself. Colorful umbrellas shade some of the tables, giving respite from the sun on warmer days. On colder days, the Fountain Bistro nestled in at the side of the park provides a place to sit and eat while admiring the view of the fountain.
| log=Sunday morning finds Al with a need to take a break. And so, brunch was in order. Without Aaron, for once. She's gotten a small two-person table set for one, on the sidewalk outside the Fountain Bistro. The place is bustling, busy with the young and middle-class of Detroit. Here to enjoy the brunch menu and the view of the fountains and parks outside. Al does the same, book in hand. IN front of her a cup of coffee, a mimosa, and a plate of jam on toast with a few clean bites taken from it. She turns a page slowly, pausing to look up, and then back to her text.
Alma's field notebook includes observations on the pathogeography of the city. Today is a day for the affluent. She takes notes as she walks. Her path is erratic because she notices things from time to time that stop her in her tracks, or send her veering off. In fact, she veers off just now and her foot lands on a slip of paper. She stops to pick it up and hands it to a brunch patron who was just about to sign it. "You dropped this," She says. The patron looks up and says "Thanks." but quickly looks over at their table companion, frowning at the interaction.
<<DICE>> Alexandra rolls manipulation+subterfuge, difficulty 6
<<DICE>> 2 successes (5 7 10, Specialty: No, Willpower: No)
At the sound of Alma's voice, Al looks up from her page. It's just a quick glance before her eyes go down again. Chin turning down, angling herself slightly in toward the building. She noticed nothing. Hopefully it's enough.
<<DICE>> Alma rolls perception + alertness, difficulty 6
<<DICE>> 2 successes (1 3 5 8 10, Specialty: Yes, Willpower: No)
Huh, that's interesting. Alma stops to add a new entry. Heading: Fountain Bistro. Outside seating. overcast. chance of showers. She licks a finger and holds her hand up. winds south/south east. grackles west. 3 house sparrows define a plane but the cracker is a vlley. social awkwardness 40 but increasing. She shuts the book and puts her pencil back over her ear. What is that book that person is reading there? Alma pulls out her pencil again. no crumbs no house sparrows.
It appears to be working. Al keeps her eyes down, into her book. Shifting slightly, legs crossed. Just keep your head down and this will all blow over soon enough. Fingers crossed.
At least she's not wearing that ridiculous safari vest. Today it's a simple white t-shirt emblazoned with "Every Kea Counts". The festive multicoloured bag supposedly makes up for the lack of vest pockets. Oh! Urban planning and design. She starts to blurt out something at the reader but stops herself. Not everyone is interested in urban ecology, afterall. Oh! It's Al. "Oh! Hi Alexandra. Have you read Christopher Alexander's _The Order of Life_? Someone recommend it to me." She steps in closer to the table, not hovering, per se, no? But that waiter is on their way here, threading through all these tables. They're making Alma feel uneasy, and she inches a few milimeters closer to Al.
Damnit. Al looks up from her book, smiling toward Alma. "Oh, hello! I didn't notice you there," her fingers move a post-it from the little pad of them on the table to her place in the book. A few quick strokes of her pen take down a note. "Do you mean the 'Nature of Order'? But, yes, I am intimately familiar with the works of Christopher Alexander. I've seen him speak on a number of occasions, actually." She reaches for her coffee, and diverts at the last minute toward the mimosa.
"That's so cool!" blurts Alma. "Someone was explaining from the first book, _The Pattern of Life_ about how the shapes in the buildings and things creat habitats for, uh, shapelife or something." She looks off, thoughtfully, before refocusing her gaze back on Al. "Oh, I had something I meant to tell you, uh, about school."
"About... School?" Al returns, eyebrows lifting. A little sigh leaves her. She lets her book close all the way, setting it down on the table. Obviously this wasn't going to wrap up as quickly as she had been hoping it would. She takes another drink of the mimosa, finishing it off. "What would that be?"
Alma looks around at all the people. This place is a lot more crowded than Old East Side, that's for sure. "I decided I didn't like my professor, so I'm not taking any more classes from them. I'm going to do independent study instead. It's too late to pick up any other classes." She raises her eyebrows sat Al. "This means that I'm inelgible for the service fratenerty you recommended." She rushes through, "I meant to tell you a lot sooner--but life." She shrugs neverously. "Anyway I met with them this week. Boy am I glad they didn't kill me. Sometimes professors really want to murder their RAs, you know?"
Al listens, blinking slowly. Then it comes together for her. A moment of realization. "Oh. I... See. I. Sit down," Al says, gesturing to the chair on the other side of the table. As the wait staff approaches, Al raises a hand, waving them away. With her other hand, she starts to go through her bag. Coming out with a brass fountain pen with a split calligraphy tip. Immediately she begins working on one of the post-it notes. Quickly adding lines and curves. Precisely drawn, even freehand. When the final line is added, the noise of the street and the bistro around them dims.
Alma sits down. She rests her chin on her hands. The table is elbowed. "So, yeah," Alma says awkwardly. "I just thought you should know." Her hands come out from under her chin. She waves them around, "But, I mean, this doesn't mean I am not a volunteer. I still want to do my part. I can, you know, forcast predator-prey ratios. Get you historical data on the watershed. all kinds of things. But, I'll understand if that's not something you guys need. I mean, decades of historical data could be useful? But not everyone is in to that stuff."
"Don't speak loudly and no one will hear you," Al says, her voice only slightly muted. "Are you saying that you abandoned your Tradition?" her wrists cross, set on the table. "If so, that's a very serious act. No one in this appreciates a defector. What made you choose that path?"
Alma frowns in concentration. "The injstice? And they don't really beleive that people have the will to choose, so they don't give people freedom and space to make those choices. I thought I could share what I know from restorative pratices but that fizzled. They asked me about the promise I had made. I told them that my belief in that was stronger than any promise. Al, an oath or promise--it's just an imitation of who I am. I do not follow a promise, I follow my self. It feels wrong to belong to something and not my self. Even when parts of that tradition coincidentally matched. And, to be honest, I just can't stand hte thought of murder. Some of what they do is murder. It's not just. There's more to it. There's a lot more to it. I could sit here all day. I was in so much turmoil. I feel like I've been in a constant state of irritation and anger. Now I'm at peace."
Al listens. At the end, she clears her throat. "I understand you did what you thought was best. And some of their practices aren't what I would consider savory," she says, speaking slowly. Obviously choosing her words carefully. "But you're saying we can't trust you to keep your promises when you disagree with us. How are we supposed to trust you after something like that?"
"I think most people aren't going to keep promises they disagree with. I'm
telling you that I'm doing my damnest to only do what I think is right and ify
ou need me to do something, I'll tell you what my beliefs are and you can
decide from there. If they line up to some promise you have people make, great.
If not, then you won't need to ask me to do whatever it is because I won't
agree to it."
She pauses, "I can understand how I look changable because I joined up to begin with. That's true, but maybe consider that I woke up with no one else around me. It's only been a year and half? and a lot of that in quiet until I found a guide. And as soon as I realized something was off, I drilled and drilled down until I knew what was off. I know so much more now. And now I know I have to consider everything," a hand fists. "Everything..." She looks disconcerted. "But not to the point of paralysis."
"I'm not asking you to leave Detroit," Alexandra answers, keeping her tone steady and her eyes on Alma. "I'm telling you that if this is the choice you've made, no one can trust you again. The reason doesn't matter. You're free to make it. But that's the consequence. If you're lucky, that will be the only consequence. Our promises to each other are the only things that keep us safe. Saying you can't keep that is the only thing about you anyone will care about."
"I'm not swearing any open ended oaths to you. I'm asking you to know me, and
for me to know myself. I swear oaths by my actions. Sometimes people know
fuck-all about whether they would pick a Right Action. That's not an option for
me. See that person? And that person?" She waves over to another table. "I
could ask them to tell me if they would agree to shock someone to death. Most
people would say no and be horrified that I'd even ask."
"But I tell you, that when Stanley Milgram set up an experiment with that
scenario as the end result, the majority of prticipants did." She stares at
Alexandra. "I've studied human cognition for years. I've studied non-human
cognition for years. I've studied myself."
"I think about this stuff. And people have refined their understanding human
behavior over and over from Milgram and others. And I know this. People who
make promises to you? Those are meaningless unless backed up by self
knowledgge. Intense and focused self knowledge. And even then you take a risk."
"It will be disappointed if you can't trust me. I hope you can and that I can
support you in ensuring the safety of everyone here. That is what I am working
on on my own. but things will run so much more smoothly when people work
together."
And maybe you can even get one of your quasiturs here to talk to me to see if I am a trustworthy person. Aren't they supposed to know stuff like that?
"If you had defected from the Order, and the Quaesitors had shown up to
question you, and you said to them what you just said to me? That you find the
idea of an oath to be foolish? They would burn every memory about the Order
from your mind, and as much of the rest of you as they thought they had to in
order to protect the rest of us. That is what they do. Because all of this is
built on promises and oaths and secrets," Al sounds slightly harder on this
point, "You are explaining to me why you think I should be ok with you promise
to blow off any promise you find inconvenient. Why you would betray me if you
thought I did something you disagree with. I'm telling you that means I can't
trust you. You can cite as many page references as you want. I'm telling you
that, judging by your actions, I cannot condone your involvement in anything we
do, ever again."
Al tilts her head back, sighing. Her eyes close for a moment as she swallows. "I think that is the end of this conversation. I appreciate your honesty."
Alma studies Alexandra. "Well, I wish you would not frame what I consider life and death choices in terms of 'inconvenience' because it means you do not know or understand me." She stands up, nods, and goes on her way. }}
