driftfleet | i'm gonna show you crazy

[Hopefully there isn't a thing you need out of the kitchen, Mal. Because there's currently a 6'5" obstacle in your way on the floor that has lost the will to live. He knows someone is there, but this place has truly revealed itself to be nothing short of hell. So, he doesn't move. He just keeps laying there with an arm over his eyes with an occasionally very sad sigh. Is he protesting? Is he depressed? Yes. Yes, he is absolutely doing both. And in the process being not just obstructive, but also ineffectual.]

[Don't step on his scarf.]

[She steps on his scarf almost immediately. It's just sort of lying there dangling in the middle of the floor; she can't help it. Even if she could, she probably wouldn't.]

[Looking down at this man who is a full foot taller than her, she thinks: yeah, I could probably take him, and nudges him in the ribs hard with her boot.]

What's this supposed to be, now?

[He swats in the vague direction of where the boot came from without lifting his arm to look.]

There's nothing to eat.

[She avoids the swat easily, then kicks at his hand. Not hard! But enough to sting a little. Her boots are very sharp.]

Yes there is. There's plenty.

[Okay, that makes him move his arm finally to glare at he...him? Him. He shakes his hand out before rolling over onto his stomach and accusingly pointing up at the horrible, awful, and completely offensive food machine.]

That is not food.

Really? I could have sworn it was.

[She shifts her weight to one hip, raising her eyebrows sardonically.]

Define food for me, then, please.

[Is this guy crazy or stupid? Joseph thinks very loudly. So loud it's very plain on his face. Because only a crazy and/or stupid person would ask a question like that. For a moment, he just doesn't even know what to say and just lets the arm that was pointing drop on the floor.]

[After a few more second pass, Joseph gets up, walks over to the machine and hits a button.]

It. Looks. Like. Shit.

[And he's not even being dramatic. (Okay, he is being a little bit. But he's not particularly exaggerating right now.) What's coming out of the machine is questionable to look at.]

[Well, he does have a point. It's not the most appetizing sight in the universe. Fortunately for Mal, that's not her problem unless she feels like eating on any particular day, so she doesn't worry about it much.]

[Generally she considers it her job to keep her crew happy. This one, however, is a huge whiner, so maybe he can just deal.]

[She shrugs elaborately.]

Oh, I'm sorry. We keep our four-course meals in the other spaceship. Would you rather starve?

Yes.

[This is said with grave sincerity. He's not putting that in his mouth, okay. No.]

Well, you're likely to get your wish if you don't sock up very quickly.

Is that what you were doing on the floor? Waiting for death to take you?

[Well, when he puts it like that, he makes it sound stupid...]

Why does it make a difference to you what I was doing?

Because I'm your captain, and if you die, it's my responsibility to shove your giant body out of the airlock.

[A bright!! Fucking!!! Smile!!!!]

[Okay that was a touch more morbid than Joseph was expecting.]

And I care about that because...?

Because I think being thrown out of an airlock is probably an undignified funeral, and because you don't want me to get calluses.

[Joseph rolls his eyes. Great. His captain is one of those guys.]

If I'm dead, I'm not going to care about a funeral and I sure as hell wouldn't care about you getting calluses.

[She hums, tapping her chin with one finger.]

All right, then. Try this: if you don't eat, I will put food down your throat.

Better?

[Joseph snorts. Mal is essentially a full foot shorter than him. Like hell he could forcefeed Joseph. Puh-leeze.]

I'd like to see you try.

[She's starting to like being underestimated. It makes everything so much more interesting.]

[For a moment she doesn't move, just looking at him carefully with her head cocked ever so slightly. Then, in the blink of an eye and a blur, she's across to the table and right in Joseph's face with a food cube.]

Say "ah".

[This is fun.]

[He comes very close to opening his mouth in shock because how the fuck did he just move that fast? He'd probably also ask that question aloud, but that's a no-go. For the very first time in Joseph's life, Joseph is keeping his mouth shut.]

[He leans away, grunting his rejection of the proffered food cube with a shake of his head. But while he does that, his hand finds the questionable food paste that's still sitting where it was poured out of the machine. And then that paste is going to be intent on its way to finding Mal's face with a toss.]

[The paste hits Mal square in the middle of the cheek. Briefly and instinctively, she bares her teeth in a snarl - then leaps up on Joseph with incredible strength, trying to knock him back so that she can pry his jaw open.]

[Some of the food paste drips off her face onto his shirt. Enjoy that, you jerk.]

[Mal's sudden leap takes him completely by surprise. It's one thing to be able to move fast, but that much strength from someone that much smaller than him? He was planning on taking it easy on the guy and maybe try to avoid hurting him, but that's gone completely out the window now.]

[He does stumble backwards, but instead of throwing food he's throwing a punch and he sure is charging his fist with some Hamon to match strength for strength here because what the hell, bro? What the actual hell?]

[The power of his punch, which catches her on the jaw, startles her, and she curses under her breath - Natasha would be furious - but dodges the next blow by ducking under his arm and into his personal space. That's one of the benefits of being small.]

[She tosses a few glancing blows at him - solar plexus, jaw, gut - but most of her's concentrated on reaching for his jaw. Once she gets close enough, she presses her finger and thumb to the joins of his jaw, trying to force it open.]

Come on!

[Joseph tightens his jaw, throwing his head side-to-side in an attempt to throw Mal's hand off his face alongside some rather relatively ineffectual pushing. This time, he goes down towards the ground, but with the intent of slamming Mal into the floor. He is not opening his mouth, dammit!]

[Another curse as she falls on the ground - she grabs him by the collar as she goes, though, and kicks up with both feet into his stomach, trying to drag him down with her.]

[Just wrestling on the floor of the kitchen no big deal.]

[They are a pair of mature adults. If you heard otherwise, that is slander.]

[Joseph goes down and the feet to the gut causes all the air to go out of his lungs. Reflexively and without thinking about it, his mouth falls open with a grunt, but he slaps a hand over it quickly before any of that nasty sorry excuse for food can get anywhere near his mouth. He starts struggling to get back up to his feet, which is not helped by Mal pulling on him at all. But you watch him try, goddammit.]

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