SS Golden Mingle!

[cabbagedetective]

Who: The crew of the SS Golden
Broadcast: Nope
Action: SS Golden
When: 6/10 to 6/30


[With the exciting lights and sounds of the casino behind them, things seem to have really wound down for the fleet. With very little to do outside of the ship, what better way to try and stave off cabin fever than by socializing with one's fellow crew members? Compare casino winnings, swap stories about anything the other mysterious planet they left behind, or maybe just stare out the window together at the passing space debris. The choice is yours!]

Comments

[interspace]

[ She's patiently amused and quiet while Anders dredges her name from his memory. Arms crossed and head tilted, a smile spreads across her face for the descriptor. ]

That's right. Although I'd say you're quick to trust, but I haven't driven any of us into the asteroids yet, so you're probably right.

And you're Anders, the beloved captain of this ol' rust bucket. Am I right?

[unconfines]

[Anders claps one hand dramatically over his heart. Captain is still an uncomfortable position for him to be in, and one he never asked for, but he's dedicated to not messing it up. He copes with genuine feelings of responsibility like that by being as aggressively flippant as possible, such as:]

Oh, I do what I can. Which for the most part is just hoping that nothing explodes when it's not supposed to.

You're helping a lot with that at the moment, by the way, so yes: we appreciate having a pilot on board. There seems to be a bad trend for ships that don't, and I'd rather not sign us up for that particular list any time soon, if it's all the same to everyone.

[interspace]

[ Seeing the flippancy, knowing the technique for as much as she uses it herself, she reaches out with attention to the cat rather than Anders. Her hand is half-closed, knuckles in offering to be smelled and analyzed. ]

The auto-pilot doesn't seem so bad. All things considered. What kind of legacy do I have to live up to?

[unconfines]

[Captain Whitefluff the Terrible is, for her part, picky about the humans she deems Acceptable Enough. She sniffs Misha's hand primly, stalks away to wind her tail around Anders' ankles, then stalks back to shove her head against Misha's knuckles. Test driving.]

There was the time some mysterious friends of ours tried to shoot us out of the sky. [This is probably the sort of thing that would call for some weight, but the flippancy does not give even slightly.] We were lucky enough to have someone then who got us out of that without too much damage to the ship.

[a beat]

But the flying rocks, those are nothing! Just have to go around them, yes?