driftfleet | 001 ; video and action!!

Who: Kate Fuller and YOU!!
Broadcast: video
Action: SS Golden ; that one moon
When: after the shuffle

[Fleetwide video]

Um, hi. I'm Kate, and I'm... new. That sounds dumb.

[And awkward as hell. This feels like her first day of high school all over again, only instead of introducing herself to a tiny class of teenagers she's got to say hello to an entire fleet of people from different worlds. Not a lot makes sense about it, but she's trying her best to roll with the punches. Kate's had a little bit of time to get used to things, to get a good idea what's in store for her here, but it's still left her with some questions.]

I guess you could probably tell. I was just wondering, though, because it seems like these ships have been around for awhile and everyone's so used to all this, and-

[She's rambling. She stops, shakes her head, tries again.]

I just wanted to know how long people have been here, that's all.

[The Golden]

[Okay, so all that pudding? That's definitely something Kate is interested in eating. She's even got a spoon she'd found after sorting through drawers, and it's been months since she had pudding, okay.

But is it for her? Can she just take it? If Seth were here he'd have pulled up a chair and put his feet up and told her to get to eating the entire stash, but Kate likes to think she's at least a little nicer than Seth is.

So she's just kind of standing there. Looking at the pudding. Hopefully.]

[Dusty Moon Place]

[Her first stop once she tries heading to the moon is what's very obviously a chapel. She's drawn to it like a moth to a flame and anyone who might head inside after her will find her sitting in the very front row, head tilted down and eyes closed as she prays. She has a lot to say to God, but more to ask, and it's mostly protection. For her family, Seth, even Richie. Her hands are clasped tightly in her lap, but if she hears someone approach she'll look up and give them a smile.]

Oh, hi. I didn't think anyone else was going to come in here.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[He lost God in the War. Lot of men did. He's heard it said that there are no atheists in foxholes, but maybe he was just ahead of the curve. It's been five years since he set foot in a Church that wasn't burnt out or re-purposed as a theatre of surgery. No matter how many times he walked past Saint Patrick's in Brooklyn, he could never quite bring himself to walk inside. one day, maybe.

This Chapel, beautiful as it is, doesn't have the same connotations as the ones he's familiar with. To him, it's a building in a faraway place, and he's looking for a quiet corner of the world.

Instead, he finds her there, and he's already raising a hand as she speaks.]

I'm sorry, miss. I didn't mean to intrude.

[He nods to the bench beside her.]

Mind if I sit a moment?

[Miss, there's something she hasn't heard in forever. She's used to princess, or more recently chica and senorita. Miss is definitely something she'd been used to when she lived in Bethel, but that feels like years ago instead of just a month. It's a little weird, but Kate keeps the smile on her face as she slides over on the pew.]

No, of course not. Are you, uh... you're from the ships too, aren't you?

[He takes a seat far enough away from her not to be an imposition. He's always cognizant - perhaps too much so - of his size and the threat it presents to people that don't know him. Somewhere along the way he lost the ability or desire to hunch his shoulders and try to shrink in on himself, the soldier has subsumed the man. But he can at least give her space.]

The 'Bloodsport'.

[He finds it privately, ironically amusing, how fitting that name is.]

I'm one of two pilots. Name's Steve Rogers.

I didn't know there were ships with more than one pilot. I'm one too, but for the Golden.

[He probably came here for quiet, but now he's got Kate turning herself a little more to face him and clearly more than willing to have a conversation. She's still getting used to being in space and more friends might make it a little easier to deal with.]

I'm Kate. Fuller. It's nice to meet you, Steve.

[A different species of nod, this one acknowledging her greeting.]

It's nice to meet you as well, Miss Fuller.

[For a moment, he seems almost content to leave it at that. Steve is not a conversationalist. He's not good at it, has never much liked it. Words are the shadow of intent, but they can be twisted and maligned. Silence is an eloquent thing, by contrast. But he remembers, once upon a time, meeting his very first friend in a Church, and thinks she might be looking for more of the same.

So he cants his head to one side.]

You think He's listening all the way out here?

Oh.

[No one's asked her that before. She looks away from him, up towards the cross displayed front and center at the front of the chapel, and her smile goes a little bit sad.]

I hope so. I'd like to think that He listens to us no matter where we are.

[She'd like to, but she also isn't sure if God chooses to look in on her and her family anymore.]

I hope so, too.

[He leans forward, rests his elbows on his thighs and drops his hands - palms together - between his knees.]

Would you-- is it too much to ask you to say a prayer for a friend of mine?

[She's a little surprised by the request, but she nods right away. Like there was never a question that the answer would be yes.]

Of course. Is there anything special you'd like me to say?

I always thought the intent was worth more than the words.

[He quirks a smile at her, it doesn't quite make it to his eyes but it's so small a thing, barely notable.]

If you wouldn't mind asking Him to keep him safe, I'd appreciate that.

[Kate smiles at him gently, like she knows a smile that's for show and is trying to let him off the hook so he doesn't have to bother anymore, and holds her hands out to him. He can hold them if he wants to, but it's not necessary.]

I think so too, but I also think it can't hurt every once and awhile to be really direct.

[Her answering smile is absolution, and his falls away even as he takes her hand. His palms are rough, calloused but unblemished by scars or abrasions. He's gentle with her, but it's the gentleness of someone who knows too well their own strength.]

I suppose it can't.

[A beat. Then,]

His name's James.

[He can be as gentle as he'd like, but she squeezes his hand tightly once he slips it into hers. He needs to be prayed for just as much as his friend, she thinks, and if all she can give him immediately is that it's going to be good enough for now.

Eyes closing, she bows her head. She starts with asking God to watch over James, to see him through his hardships and to give him the strength and wisdom to carry himself through what those hardships may be. She asks that, if it's possible, James might feel his friend's warmth even though they may not be able to see each other for a long time.

And, hand tightening around Steve's for just another second, she asks that God look in on them from time to time, so that she and Steve will know that they aren't alone.]

[He feels nothing. None of that encroaching warmth that used to follow his prayers in his youth, no soft sense of oneness with the universe. The bench is hard, the walls cold stone. It feels empty rather than anything wrapped up in the sanctity of ages old.

But if she believes, that's good enough for him. He waits until her grip slackens on his hand and then,]

Thank you, Miss Fuller.

[She nods as she takes her hand away, folding it back into her lap and hoping the prayer helped. She feels oddly nervous, like maybe she messed it up, but it's praying. It's hard to mess that up.]

You can just call me Kate.

All right, Kate it is.

[This time, the smile he conjures up is warmer, less touched by the frost.]

So. Pilot, huh? How're you finding it so far?

[Alright good, that's much better. It prompts her to smile back at him, and then he asks his question and she can't help it, she has to laugh.]

At first I thought they were playing a trick on me, putting me in charge of something so important. At home I drove our RV though, so I guess whoever is in charge here figures if I can do that I can drive anything.

[Lightly,]

Hey, I wouldn't argue that. RVs handle like boats on bad water, means you've got a gift.

001 ; video and action!!

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject