cambie-andrews-blog

[cambie-andrews-blog]

teiloembry:

[She takes another stab at getting him to accept a cupcake, and those his eyes drift over them briefly, he has to pull a bit of an apologetic face. There’s a small shake of his head, and a polite palm up in response, trying to soften the blow of his rejection.] Please don’t take this as a sign of a rejection of your hospitality. I appreciate it, I do—and I’m sure they’re delicious, if they are made with half as much love and cheer you seem to carry with you even without the tray, Miss Andrews. [A slight smile—real, but not forced to be larger than it is. Natural, simple.] But I can’t. Though I admit I’ve always had something of a sweet tooth when it comes to garbage cravings I never shook—skittles, sour keys, the like—I’m not much of a desert person, otherwise. Plus, I have a very small appetite. One of those and I’ll likely ruin my dinner and breakfast tomorrow morning. 

[He laughs at her second round of overflowing questions—especially when she gets to the one about his being a politician.] Yes, in fact. My father—every day of his life. And just about everyone I meet. But I’m studying Law. Or studied, I suppose. [It’s a correction that still hurts him, to admit: studying had become studied—a thing of the past, now, at least for the time being. His passions put on hold.] Which, I will admit full bias when I say, is much better. Politicians are all about perception, image, and glossing over the individuals needs for the sake of a supposed community’s needs—lawyers, on the other hand, deal entirely in specifics. In individuals. Therefor, it’s more rewarding work. But that is one… not-so-humble man’s opinion. 

[ Cambie has to physically stop herself from tutting out loud and risk sounding like an 80-year-old grandmother. Still, her smile faltered – only a little – at his rejection. Normally everyone flocked to Cambie when her baked goods made an appearance, and although it was a tinsy bit selfish, she liked the attention. She may have even digressed to full blown pouting had he not drifted onto a subject quite sensitive. Boy, could she relate; there were early days, when she had first arrived at the Colony and hadn’t discovered her path yet, where the melancholy of what once had been haunted her day in and day out. To spend her whole life working towards a goal, a dream, something so many of her peers hadn’t attained and to actual achieve it and then – poof. The world ends. There are no more dancers, just survivors. A whole part of her being, identity, her driving life force and means of living rendered meaningless in an instant.

She had been blessed that the last Chancellor had seen her for her true talents and treated her as such, or she would still be that same lost girl who had shown up four years ago, heartbroken. Cambie doesn’t miss a beat – she smiles softly at the man, so full youthful clarity and shining with potential. She even laughs at his self-deprecation, shaking her head.]

I’m pretty sure there was a time in my life when I wouldn’t have liked you one bit for denying a baked good. People who reject desserts can’t be trusted! [ A clever smirk teases across her lips as Cambie shrugs.] 

Now that I think about it, that may have been a poster I had in my old college dorm’s kitchen. 

sweet; a little selfish ♡ { open }

[cambie-andrews-blog]

Cambie Andrews [x] of The Colony Roleplay [x]

[cambie-andrews-blog]

FKM: Andee, Wes, Zach

How impolite. I cannot even fathom an answer to that.

Fuck: ZachKill: WesMarry: Andee

[cambie-andrews-blog]

If you could turn into any animal, what would it be and why?

A doe, a deer, a female deer.

It was my favorite animal as a little kid. I was obsessed with the fawns that would sleep in the grass and my mother had to constantly watch to make sure I didn’t disturb them. Plus, they’re so graceful.

[cambie-andrews-blog]

What is a relationship deal breaker for you?

Hmm... what isn’t? I guess I’m just kind of picky.

I don’t like dishonesty, in any form. I want to be with the truest version of someone, no BS. So I obviously don’t tolerate cheating, or lying, or pretending to be something you’re not. 

[cambie-andrews-blog]

[cambie-andrews-blog]

cambie + her mother

one day you were not at home while i was there and all alone - the angels came guess you thought it strange of me to leave the way i did that day, it was a shame but now your laughter just began & even though you miss me hon, you must go on & when the snow fly passes overhead & cries down on my flower bed you know you’re not alone.

Cambie Andrews [x] of Colony 22 [x]

[cambie-andrews-blog]

cambie + her father

because you loved me i overcome & i’m so proud of what you’ve become you’ve given me such security no matter what mistakes i make, you’re there for me you cure my disappointments & you heal my pain you understood my biz & you protected me i treasure every irreplaceable memory 

[cambie-andrews-blog]

everybody get your mothafuckin’ roll on i know shorty and she doesn’t want no slow song had a man last year, life goes on haven’t let that thing loose, girl, in so long you’ve been inside, know you like to lay low i’ve been peepin’ what you bringin’ to the table workin’ hard, girl, everything paid for: first, last phone bill, car note, cable …. & you showin’ off, but it’s alright it’s a short life, yeah 

Cambie Andrews [x] of Colony 22 [x]

[cambie-andrews-blog]

andreya-roche:

[Thinking twice about chiming in on how helpful Echo has been, Andee chooses to keep some cards close to her chest for now. It’s not a common move of hers, and rather unfamiliar, but she’s taking her time to decide where on the spectrum of sincerity Cambie lies. Often, these acts of sickly-sweetness can be ruses, and although Andee never assumes outside of optimism upon first meeting someone, a Head of House is far more networked within the colony to be handing off bits and pieces of information to someone who might not have the most favored view of someone like Andee. Even just the mentioning of “pitching to Dante” places a knot in her stomach. Although her interactions with Dante have been brief, he’s been nothing short of prickly and disagreeable, bordering on downright spiteful. Brink’s Head of House should be someone far more sensitive, in her opinion, not just someone who is shrewd.

She knocks her legs over the armrest and leans back against the windowsill, letting her head rest on the glass.] I would give a lot of money to see his face when you do. [Somehow she knows nothing will get passed along. Or, if it does, nothing will be done about it. Building the structure is the most important thing now, and simplicity will be key. Upgrades and fancy features will come in the next few decades, when people start to span out and the walls come down and people will make it real living spaces. But… That doesn’t mean Andee can’t have some fun of her own. In secret, of course.

The rapid fire questions get her thinking right away.] I think we all are just expecting it to be done. As a group, we have a bigger problem with the fact that the Infected are being forced to do the reconstruction without help from any Uninfected. There are plenty of masons and carpenters and engineers whose talents are going to waste because someone decided they wanted to punish one sect of us. [With no room or desire to mince her words, she gently folds her fingers together and picks her head up to clock Cambie’s expression.

She scoffs, kind of liking the idea that the Brinks will have the decked-out, high-tech dorms and everyone else will do their best to get an in. Whether it’s making friends with more Brinks, or sneaking in at night, or scaling the building to slip in through the roof – the images bring a smile to her face.] Few of us might even leave a window unlocked. You never know.

[Cambie cocks her head at Andee’s response; she had never perceived the Infected doing all the construction rotations as being a punishment. She was told it was because powered people could do the work faster, with less hang ups or potential for injury; and yet the more people she spoke to, the more she got the feeling that it wasn’t the case at all. Andee was the first one to say it to her directly, and a small smile crops up on her face as a silent ‘thank you’ for the honesty.] I never saw it that way before, but I could absolutely see where you’re coming from. It’s especially unfair considering the urgency of the matter, and if Uninfected specialists could help, the entire project could move along quicker. I’m going to look into that.

[Cambie found herself in a difficult position the more people brought up recent Infected issues with her today. Ever since the NWRF takeover of the authority structure, Cambie found herself being once-removed from situations that dealt with the Infected and their rebellious tendencies in the new regime – she didn’t know if it was because she (indirectly) refused to affiliate with them, or because there was something more sinister going on, but she had allowed herself to stay uninvolved. For no other reason than it refocused her duties to case-by-case, person-to-person interactions – unruly Survivors, potential security risks, at risk youth, all needing counseling and guidance, which she enjoyed. She had been so focused on Corbin and the others this past year, maybe she had pulled the curtain over her own eyes as to what was going on around her.She knew the problems were there – she knew they’d arise as soon as she had learned what the NWRF was all about. She didn’t agree with it, but she didn’t have a means to stop it by herself, and she allowed herself to be put in the back seat while changes began. There was only so much she could do when Cambie was constantly being outvoted, three out of four, every time. The problem was, the compassion inside her finally pushed her out of the sanctity of her office and forced her to confront bigger problems, like the Brink reconstruction and the apparent Infected tensions she now knew so little about. The cupcakes were merely her foot in the door to warm people up – she needed to understand what was actually happening so she could deal with it since no one else seemed to be. 

Cambie didn’t even realize a frown had knitted across her face as she lost herself in thought; she swallowed around the hard lump in her throat and had to force a small smile, shaking her head as she spoke softly now.] I just… I have a really hard time with all this Infected versus Uninfected nonsense. You would think – after everything the human race has been through, all our atrocities against each other, all the disturbing histories we study so that one day…. We’d finally learn we’re not as different as we all perceive. And yet…. [ She trails off sadly, shaking her head as she looks past Andee and out the window.] Here we are. 

sweet; a little selfish ♡ { open }

[cambie-andrews-blog]

teiloembry:

[There are several things he resents about his transfer to Colony 22. The first is, admittedly, that it was fucking self-inflicted. And yes, he is well aware of the reason and stands by that reason still. Sid knows, despite what little they actually say to each other in terms of upfront sentimentality, that Teilo would do next to anything for him, especially when it comes to keeping him safe. Teilo may be a little high maintenance, and ‘a lot’ self-involved, but when it comes to his loyalty of a select few, he would set all that aside in a heartbeat. 

But still, the fact that it was his decision that had landed them both here, his actions that were responsible for his thin, ratty mattress and threadbare blankets, his choices that had led to his saying goodbye to Harvard and everything Colony 2 had to offer, including the little bit of luxury still left in this rotting world, such as it were—it all makes stomaching the reality of living in this ancient, cold and miserable place that much more challenging. 

And then there’s the fact that, though he is trying and hoping to make the space in which he’s forced to inhabit as bearable as possible, it’s significantly more difficult being that his living quarters is technically temporary—a Brink shoved into someone else’s space, told to sit tight and make themselves at home, while their true place was rebuilt from the ground up. And he has yet to have a construction rotation, but he has been avoiding asking how that process is actually going—afraid to hear the answer. Judging by the general state of things in this place, and that everybody and their neighbour is apparently responsible for its reconstruction, regardless of skill or know-how, he has a suspicion that the answer is ‘not fucking well’.] 

[He’s just leaving his previous class (’History’, but calling it such is a fucking joke, considering the curriculum appears to have been written by an idiot with barely a 5th grade education, and he’d had to correct the teacher four times—something that is guaranteed not to make him popular amongst Colony 22 folk, but that’s nothing he’s not used to after all these years of being the class know-it-all) when he both smells and hears the woman’s arrival, before he sees her.

And when he does, she beams—a bit over enthusiastically, actually, but who is he to judge. Her features are warm, gentle—strikingly beautiful but her freckles give her a certain modesty. She holds a tray of fresh baked pastries of some kind, and she has said more words in the time it’s taken him to even pause and look at her, than he thinks is strictly necessary.

Still, he offers her a polite smile, with a slight raise of his brow.] 

You sure ask a lot of questions, don’t you? [he teases gently]  I’m not staying in Delma, actually. They have me in Calyset for the time being. But it’s a pleasure, Miss Andrews. And my thoughts on the Brink reconstruction are, firstly, that I truly hope someone has considered the fact that these Infected civilians doing the chores might not know a thing about building a safe structure, and that a procedure of some kind has been implemented to deal with that. Secondly, I understand it’s probably an immense task, one that the Colony doesn’t necessarily have the resources to facilitate properly, and I hope I don’t sound ungrateful, but I do hope it’s going well because not having to bunk in already overcrowded towers of the other houses would be… lovely. 

[ Cambie practically glows as she’s approached by a younger survivor, who doesn’t impulsively reach out to steal her cupcakes, or try to duck away when her questions begin tumbling out. He seems so polite, with his well-mannered smile, and when he responds, Cambie can hear the gracious civility of higher education in his tone. She doesn’t even mind when he teases her (although it’s pretty hard to get Cambie to mind anything – she’s just effortlessly easy going by nature). He, like Andee and a few before him, mentions the sanction of Infected being the primary construction force, and it takes all her self-control to not let her face fall into a heavy frown, as to avoid any misinterpretation of her expression; she agrees with all of them – it makes no sense to have people who aren’t qualified for a task to undertake it just because they’re different. She wishes she had intervened sooner to prevent such an undertaking, but with a ¾ vote almost always stacked against her, she had little room for protest at the time.

She likes that he actually says what he’s thinking – most people are so worried about how Cambie will perceive them, they simply leave out the answers that Cambie actually wants to hear. He’s the first person she’s spoke to who actually admits he’d rather be in his own facility, in his own bed, with his own space – the exact feelings Cambie had on the matter. They were all so displaced as it was – didn’t they each deserve even the tiniest feeling of home? The truth was that it was a massive undertaking, and although they were making head way, they could be going a lot faster if more of their Uninfected population was helping.

Cambie smiles kindly, dark brown eyes sparkling as she listens to him, nodding along. When he pauses, she gestures down at her tray of cupcakes, her tone buttery-warm as she responds.]

You don’t sound ungrateful at all! And thank you for communicating those feelings to me – if you’d like, you should try one of my cupcakes! [Her tone adopts one of doting maternity, and her entire expression softens alongside it.] There’s nothing wrong with wanting a sense of familiarity – especially since it’s not like we were able to keep all of the Brinks together, and you had to be dispersed across the towers.

What’s your name, honey? I didn’t catch it – you speak so eloquently about this issue, I actually forgot my manners.  [She punctuates with a sweet smirk, all sugar with no spice.] Where are you from? Are you new? I feel like I would remember interacting with someone like you, and yet… [His air of diplomacy is one she absolutely feeds off of; maybe it was from her time in student council, or within a sorority, but the ability to convey a message while saying everything around the message itself was a nuance not many people appreciated – she, however, did. His words are carefully precise, and yet he barely had to think about his answer, the articulation rolling off his tongue without a thought. The truth was not many people in the current leadership roles these days actually practiced the civility and compassion of being a leader, but just by this young survivor’s presence, she could tell he was an absolute natural - at least, more of a natural than Clove, Dante, or even the Chancellor.]

Has anyone ever told you that you would make a great politician?

sweet; a little selfish ♡ { open }

[cambie-andrews-blog]

[cambie-andrews-blog]

here we are in the car leaving traces of us down the boulevard i wanna fall through the stars getting lost in the dark is my favorite part let’s count the ways we could make this last forever sunny, money, keep it funky touch your top and let it down

Cambie Andrews [x] of Colony 22 [x]

[cambie-andrews-blog]

meghanmarklesmafia:

Meghan Markle for Regard in 2012 

[cambie-andrews-blog]

clove--modius:

[Few things in this world have the power to make Clove instantly want to give up and simply lie down, but one of those rare irritations happens to be the sight of Cambie Andrews carrying cupcakes. Clove quickly smothers the urge to cringe.]

[There’s nothing objectively wrong with Cambie—in fact, she’s practically perfect. Genuinely lovely, with a smile that glitters and infects everyone around her. She’s wonderful at being Head of Delma House, always proactive and caring. A true, natural-born leader.]

[Clove is fully aware that what she’s feeling is mostly jealousy, but the reaction is involuntary and deeply rooted, and that’s what really bothers her the most about the sourness that enters her mood. There’s no logic behind it, and she feels incapable of combating it within herself.] 

[It doesn’t help that Andrews is the only one of the current Heads of House to remain unaligned with the NWRF. The pressure to be cordial and try to win her over in a political manner is heavy—she’s also Uninfected. Really, Clove knows she should be trying her hardest to become closer to her—but it’s so difficult. For once, she doesn’t feel inherently superior to someone—because Cambie has what Clove never will, here. She has everyone’s respect. And that burns, with each flash of pearl teeth, every eager smile that surrounds her and her damned cupcakes.]

[Which are also, by the way, always delicious. No matter what she puts in them. The woman could bake heaven with sand and arsenic.]

[She watches someone approach, and they chat for a few moments. Clove catches snippets, enough to know that she’s discussing her pet project of the Brink restoration—which is honestly going along fine. Dante doesn’t seem bothered by the time it’s taking, and though Clove does wish for people to stop crowding into Torren, she wouldn’t step on the toes of another House to make it happen.]

[Still, she decides to make an effort, and nears as Andrews’ initial target scampers off, cupcake in hand.]

These look amazing, Cambie. It always astounds me how you find the time to make these little wonders.

Did they have any good ideas? [She asks, gesturing at the person who’s left and hiding her skepticism smoothly.] It’d be nice if we happened upon a civil engineer with a sweet tooth, just roaming the hallways. [That’s probably the only chance that their input would be at all useful. And seems extremely unlikely, in Clove’s opinion.]

[ Another hit but another miss. Some people just simply don’t have opinions – Cambie could respect that, even if she lost a cupcake for it. No matter, there were more Brinks in the Delma (instead of fish in the sea? Whatever, it was funny to her). She’s silently thinking of ways she could steer the conversation better when another, more common face pops into her line of vision, and Cambie smiles without even thinking.

Most people would think Cambie and Clove would have a problem – Clove is a Torren, heavily affiliated with the NWRF, and as close to the Chancellor as Cambie had once been to his predecessor. In fact, most people did think they had a problem, but Cambie didn’t know where that rumor had started; she actually didn’t mind Clove. Sure, she was a bit tart with others, and wore dishonesty like a second skin, both qualities that Cambie wasn’t fond of; but as she had learned countlessly in life, first as student body president, then on executive council of her sorority, and later as a choreographer of many young female dance teams – just because someone wasn’t the same as you, didn’t mean they were inherently different either. Cambie found that empathy gained her so much more and connected her with another person’s spirit; on that level, anything is possible, and any solution can be found. You just have to care enough to try.

Cambie cared enough to try. Not just with Clove either – each of the Heads of House had a qualm with Cambie at one point or another, mostly about how she was the only one of the four who wasn’t frigidly rude in every social situation she encountered with another person. She didn’t see it as a fault; she didn’t fault them for seeing it as such. It was a post-apocalyptic world after all; only some of the survivors made it out the other side with their humanity, and Cambie happened to be one. ]

[ A compliment from Clove? Cambie’s smile turns into a full-on beam of light. She courtesies, mostly as a joke, bowing her head in Clove’s direction before offering the tray at her. ] Have one, Clove! I’ve heard that they’re delicious. [ Cambie never takes one for herself until everyone else has had one first. She immediately feels warm inside; it was a lesson her father had taught her, like so many in her life. ] They actually don’t take much time! Frosting is less than a five minute affair, and as long as you know your way around an oven, most of the time is wasted with these little babies in there – usually one of the kitchen staff will help keep an eye on them until I can come back. As long as they get one, they normally don’t mind!

[ Cambie watches Clove’s delicate hand flutter in the direction of her latest cupcake stealer; she’s already shaking her head before Clove finishes her question. ] Sadly, no. That one was just a Calyset with a sweet tooth. I’m not really searching out the next Eiffel or anything – I’m just trying to open a communication barrier. I figured if Brinks are going to stay in my House, I may as well treat them like they’re one of my own. Plus, Dante has really helped me out with a favor lately, and I figured this would be my gift back – not having anyone from his House bother him for as long as possible. [ Cambie smirks, good-natured mischief etched in the lines of her face. ] It’s kind of the best gift for Dante, not letting people bother him because they know they can just bother me. Plus, I won’t insult them to their face or probe into hard memories from their past. So I think it counts as a win-win, right?

sweet; a little selfish ♡ { open }

[cambie-andrews-blog]

andreya-roche:

[She seems like the kind of person who wakes up with makeup on – not that she’ll climb out of bed early to put it on, but she naturally wakes up with it already applied; her outer beauty is so stunning, it really does distract a natural sweets-monger like Andee from taking another bite. Of the cupcake. Obviously.

Contacts in other Colonies; merchants, merchants have ships – plans start ticker-taping, wild in Andee’s head, of ways to potentially use that to her advantage. Supplies would be coming in nonstop; their exports could be doubled, tripled; Pax would have a field day, they could make relationships with the traders and even the distributors and manufacturers. And Ava was taken away on a merchant ship.

Her eyebrows go up in interest.] No kidding. You were a transfer, then, I assume. No one comes out of the Wastes looking as peppy as you do, I’m afraid. [The joke is made with a lighthearted smirk in her direction, swiping a finger full of icing from the top of her dessert and popping it in her mouth.

Part of her wonders if she’s somehow misstepped into a makeshift therapy session. Surely that wasn’t Cambie’s intention (or qualification), but it intrigues her that that is the mode of communication she chooses – sympathy, relatability, the promise of using her Powers for Good. It’s rare that anyone mines the populous for opinions anymore, much less ideas, or engineering expertise. Granted, Andee is not exactly the specialist they’re looking for, but there’s ways in which she can help and offer improvements on the large scale. She wonders where Cambie takes the information, after all of it.

Shrugging again, she removes the bottom half of the cupcake and sticks it on top to make a sandwich.] Eh. I’m adaptable. I can make home anywhere. Plus, Delmas are friendly, on the whole. It’s the hotheaded Torrens that keep us up at night. [It’s, in part, a deflection. She doesn’t want to talk about feeling displaced. They all feel displaced. Their real homes are all far away from here under five years of rubble and growth and ash. They don’t need reminders that they’re but moving pieces in a puzzle to rebuild human civilization. Having another roof instead of no roof at all is barely a hardship.]

Please – if I have any more sweets they’ll make me do extra laps at training. One is plenty. Thank you very much, as well. They’re delicious. [That said, she does take the seat when Cambie issues a direction. No need to be rude, and she doesn’t have anywhere to be. Her boring book can wait.

Andee’s eyebrows go up and the smirk returns when Cambie reveals just how much snooping she did in her file before all this. She wonders if she was sought out purposefully. No matter, really. Andee’s head bows and she takes a brief look out the window.] I see you’ve done your homework. [She chuckles, leaning forward comfortably in the seat with her arms on the table.] I don’t have anything groundbreaking on deck; a building’s a building. I just think it might be nice to have each dormitory tailored to the specific House. Like, Brinks might enjoy their own quiet study spaces. Or a greenhouse. Or an art space. We’re a very…eclectic group of people.

[ Cambie’s practically beaming as soon as Andee takes her first taste – she had learned early in life that if people didn’t like her sugar-sweet mentality, usually actual sugar won them over in the end. The other woman mentions the Wastes in passing and Cambie lets it roll off her like it means nothing, but deep down she still feels that twinge of something that echoed with sadness. That uncomfortable feeling in the pit of her stomach brings her big ole’ smile down a notch, but that’s all it is – a feeling. Cambie lets it pass before she dwells too much on what the Wastes had both given and taken from her, both too soon. It was four years ago; if she continued to mourn every loss she had suffered back then, she would never find the time to live her full life. It takes a deep breath and a second attempt at a smaller, softer smile to pull her away from that hotel all those years ago, before Cambie tunes back into their conversation as Andee makes herself a delicious saccharine sandwich. She chuckles softly under her breath at the action; it’s child-like in nature, but she likes it, and makes a silent note to try it sometime on her own.

She hears what Andee’s saying – about being adaptable – but they both know that’s not what Cambie’s asking. Cambie doesn’t even correct her aloud, because they both know where home is, and it’ll never be here. But unlike some of the less motivated members of the Colony, Cambie refused to see this place as just some long term, impending death sentence; that was no way to go about life, especially in the face of adversity. She’s happy that Andee agrees to continue their conversation and places the tray of cupcakes on a nearby end table to free up her hands. ]

I didn’t want to be walking around Delma House asking every person I didn’t recognize who they were. That seemed like an unimaginable waste of time when we have such handy things like Echo. [ She replies honestly with a smirk and a small shrug; even Heads of Houses needed decent time management skills. It would be completely within Cambie’s nature to do exactly that – go up to every single person and get roped into conversation after conversation until she found the ten she wanted – but she had learned a long time ago that survival and socialization sadly didn’t go hand in hand. ]

I can’t wait to pitch that to Dante. [ Cambie giggles, a twinkling little sound, propping a hand under her chin and leaning her elbow against the arm of her chair. ] I’m sure he will literally get up and walk out of the room as soon as I mention adding a greenhouse… Not that I don’t love that idea! Because, wow, I do.

Do you think you and the other Brinks would like more communication about the reconstruction? Does it matter at all to you that you don’t know what the time line is like? Do you think it would make you feel better or worse if we started sending out updates? [ She doesn’t mean to interrogate – she hopes that’s not how she comes off. It’s just, when Cambie gets an idea in her head, she has to get it all out so that she can fully process the other’s response; otherwise she just ends up stewing in all the things she didn’t say. A lesson forged time and time again by life, lest it ever be forgotten. Cambie flicks a piece of hair absentmindedly over her shoulder, shooting Andee another encouraging smile. ] I’m starting to worry that Brink is going to have, like, the coolest dorms ever in the history of this place. I’m going to have my hands full, with Torrens trying to break in and live there. I can picture it now – Clove would probably let them. Hell, she would help them. [ She laughs again, all in good fun, never out of malice.]

sweet; a little selfish ♡ { open }

[cambie-andrews-blog]

andreya-roche:

[She has a horrible, terrible, no-good bloody sweet tooth.

It’s part of the curse of being British. They’ve always been passionate about desserts and sweets and things that’ll rot their teeth out, but goddamn it, it’s in their blood. And in their eyes. And in their stomachs. Oh, god, she hasn’t tasted a good scone in over five years, much less smelled the unfair aroma of caramelized sugar and vanilla sponge wafting around. Who’s done this, and why? To torture them? Someone’s obviously come up with a clever little device that releases scents of all kinds; there’s no way they have enough rations in the kitchen for actual bakes.

But, real or fabricated, the smells make it difficult for her to focus on her book. She started off about an hour ago with an engineering book she bartered for with one of the technicians, and had since moved on to poetry, but she was finding them both of equal density. Which either means she’s become bored of advanced engineering, or her understanding of poetry has gone to shit.

A very sunny face follows the scents, seemingly out of nowhere. She knows the face well enough, having seen her around Delma dorms (where Andee has admittedly always been a little sad to stay; she misses her old room and her old roommates, but has adjusted on a dime, like always), and she has yet to decide if the overt optimism is an act or simply a lovely personality strapped between two beautiful ears.

In fact, Andee actually catches herself staring at her for a beat or two too long. Thankfully, Cambie misunderstands her ogling as desire for the treats. She doesn’t correct her.

Chuckling, she closes her book around her finger and stands, plucking a perfectly coifed cupcake from the tray.] Thank you very much. Where did you manage to get these? [She’s already licked the icing when she realizes introductions are indeed in order, giggling at herself for her over-eagerness.] Andee Roche. Pleasure.

[The spiel sounds like something that should come out of a hotel manager rather than a Head of House, but it’s not like Andee went to boarding school and spent most of her adult years staying in various hotels, so she has no frame of reference for what a Head really should sound like. She makes a movement that’s halfway between a shrug and a nod, biting into the cupcake to give her mouth something to do while she thinks of an answer.] Same as Brink, I guess, just less…rubble. [She shrugs, certainly not having thought of any improvements and not wanting to impose.] I wish they’d let more people be part of the reconstruction. I have a few ideas. But, they’re…selective about who gets those jobs.

[ Cambie is delighted when someone actually approaches her for a delicious treat. She beams in response to Andee’s introduction, already picturing her file and the head shot that came with it. One of her desired targets, in fact; Cambie had looked up each of the Brink’s staying in Delma house beforehand, so that she knew who to seek out. To be honest, she hadn’t been sure how well this would work out for her – she obviously underestimated the power of sugar. She shrugs in response to Andee’s question, shooting her a sly smile as to allude to her own good-natured deviance. ]

Oh, you know. I have personal contacts in other Colonies and with the merchants – it’s just a matter of bartering, at the end of the day… And taking a portion of the baked goods down to the docks as a thank you. [ Cambie grins, shrugging as if her slightly unsanctioned activities were no big deal; there was so much else going on at Colony 22, a little bit of black market sugar trading was kind of the least of the NWRF’s worries… (she hoped). ]

[ She’s silently pleased by Andee’s response – most people acted like they didn’t want to bother Cambie with their opinions, even when she was intentionally seeking them out. She offers a kind smile to show that she’s listening, fluttering her hand in a twirling motion as she gestured around the common room. ] I can only imagine how displacing this must all feel. I want the Brink reconstruction to start moving along as quickly as possible – although redistributing your sleeping locations into the other Houses is a temporary fix, it’s beginning to get treated like a long-term solution. I want to avoid that – I mean, it’s bad enough we all basically live in compounds now, the least we could do is establish a sense of, I don’t know – home? I think we all deserve that much.

[ Cambie looks around them and sees two seats, unoccupied near a window with a view of the grounds. She gestures a hand towards them, grinning at Andee expectedly. ]

If you’d like, I can tempt you with another cupcake and you could share with me some of your ideas for improvements? I’m not trying to pressure you, or put you on the spot – just anything that comes to mind that you would like to tell me.

Honestly, it doesn’t even have to all be about Brink reconstruction – I love the flow of new ideas and so anything that you think could be improved upon would be a constructive discussion to have. I mean, you are an inventor, and I know from your file that you volunteer as a counselor as well, so I’m sure you have some constructive criticisms about the current state of – well, just about everything. [ Cambie smirks slightly, cocking a knowing brow. ] If no one talks to the people in charge, how are we supposed to improve anything? I want to make that connection with people – and I think you Brinks deserve the first chance to be heard.

sweet; a little selfish ♡ { open }