driftfleet | .03 Were you dazzled by the same constellation?

Who: Rogue
Broadcast: Voice, Fleetwide
Action: Aboard the Marsiva
When: Tonight! Sometime after normal dinner hours.

[Bored. Bored. Bored.

Right, okay, so there was tension and so much suspicion and perhaps the ship falling apart and perhaps clues toward Atroma's past and specific directions to not look into suspicious circumstances (Ha!) but to bond with fellow passengers (double ha!) and real food and real coffee and actual sleep at night (vague or startlingly vivid dreams not withstanding, but... but it was like being a kid at the end of a long summer. You didn't want school to start up again. But Gawd, you needed something to do.

At least on the ship she had people to cook for, things to do -- same thing in Luceti. There was responsibilities, routine, some measure of purpose even if it was mostly self-imposed.

Here there was nothing except the blackness of space, the press of strangers, and of course -- all the mindless entertainment and access to punching bags a girl could want.

Rogue can be found making use of that punching bag, or flopped into one of the entertainment cubicles with a pile of questionable reading material beside her. She is clearly getting fed up with one of her favorite pass times - laughing at bad romances, muttering underneath her breath, until finally she makes a broadcast:]

Okay, if you're not bored you can just turn this off right now. There is absolutely no strategic value in what I'm going to say.

[She pauses a long moment and waits. Then continues:] But if ya are bored then maybe ya can relate ta wantin' ta lose yourself in a good book. Me too. But okay, I'm not sure I'm actually bored enough for this. [Rogue picks up a book and began reading at random.]

"Besides, friends don’t let friends drive drunk.”
“Drunk?”
"You’re intoxicated by my very presence.”

See, that'd be funny if it was sarcastic, or if she smacked him, but I'm not seein' it. An' then there's:

"I loved him with every cell in my body, every thought in my head, every feather in my wings, every breathe in my lungs. And air sacs."

Air sacs, people. Air sacs. Somebody's gotta help me out, I'm drowin' in this stuff here an' it's not even funny anymore. I either need someone ta come mock things with me, or -- I don't know. Has anyone tried pourin' soapy water on the floor an' goin' sliding yet? 'cause I think that might be my next step...

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I'm tryin' to make pie in the kitchen, if you wanna come help.

[She is so skeptical of your pie-making skills, Jim, it is almost enough to make her stand up straight.

She does, at least, begin wrestling out of her throw pillows and blankets and everything she has gathered to make a cocoon of the bored.]

What kinda pie?

Nope. You gotta sweet-talk me before I say anything. I want at least two mentions of air sacs.

[The briefest flicker of a smile before she continues on.]

I'm pretty sure any mention of 'air sacs' is like... negative sweet-talkin'. It's like... a black vacuum of sweetness. A... anti-smoothness.

I ain't your regular fella. I'm what's that you said.... intoxicated by your presence?

[Eye roll, but a longer flicker of a smile, an almost snort of amusement. 5 points, Jim.]

Ya ain't even in my presence. Dang, maybe you're allergic?

There's a pie here that'll remain a mystery to ya if y'don't come by.

So... ya want me ta come by so you can get drunk, is that it?

[But alright, alright, she's coming. Shifting out her seat and scowling at the pile of disappointing books before heading toward the kitchen.

Sooo much skepticism regarding your pie baking skills Jim.]

[ The smell of apple pie is already permeating the corridor. Surprise, he's actually halfway decent at baking, and grinning brightly at her when she comes in. ]

What d'ya know, I'm feelin' dizzy already.

Oh Gawd, are you actually gonna use those lines?

[Because with that smile, he might be able to pull it off and she suddenly felt bad for all the women on their next planet stop.

And that... actually, does not smell horrible.]

So, whatcha makin'? Give.

They keep workin', so why not?

[ He winks at her, and shows her his half-finished product. ]

It's apple pie, my aunt Sarah's recipe.

[There was a long pause over his communicator at what she just said, planning to make some joke either about the writing being worse than St. John's or using those lines in his normal flirting voice and seeing if he could get a laugh out of her. But the idea of sliding down the hallways, that, that was great.]

We have to do that.

[A skeptical snort.]

Workin' on who? I don't hear any rumors of you datin'. An' it's a small ship.

[...alright, alright, she'll admit it.]

It smells good.

I'unno, ever tried sliding down the hall in socks? It's awesome!

[ And he's 100%, absolutely, completely serious about this.

Soapy water on the floor to slide on seems like the logical next step, and if there's actually anything like that to be found, Luffy might just be there, boots and socks stripped off and jeans rolled up mid-calf, too.

If not, well. There's always just socked feet and a clean floor, seeing as he is rather aggressively disinterested in books about romantic love and all that stuff.

It's the trappings, really. He's a guy who values freedom above all else, and yet stories that feature romance seem to be all about tying people down. Girls, especially, like they aren't perfect being born, but are brought into the world incomplete unless they've got a love of their life in it.

Lame, he thinks. Sliding down hallways, on the other hand? A fabulous use of time. ]

If you're bored, try it!

A gentleman doesn't kiss and tell.

[ He winks at her. Truth is — there's no one, he's just happy it's thawing her, helping her relax. He was worried, after what the Atroma've done to them on this ship: tore open each other to see all the wreckage. All the people they carry with them. And all he feels with her is comfortable. She knows what he is, and she's still here. ]

It'll taste even better. Wanna help me with the crust?

Don't you do it.

[Never mind that it sounds... really fun... He's gotta be the responsible captain here okok]

[Eyebrows up.] Got some news for ya, sugah. If it's workin', it ain't the lines.

[Moving alongside him to inspect the ingredients he has for the crust, checking to see if there was a rolling pin about.]

Sure, I'll help.

[She... did think they should probably talk to him about what he saw inside her head. She still remembered what happened when he'd gripped onto Logan. But as for what she'd seen in his... she was just glad they'd talked.]

I can set up the ingredients.

[Wait, what?]

Why not?

['Awesome' might be an overstatement, but she will accept that she is absolutely dying for some speed and action right now.]

I might just. [Pause a beat.] Better clear it off first, I guess.

...we do?

[Almost the same tone as to Clay.]

What if someone gets hurt? Soap suds are more dangerous than you'd think!

Did ya honestly just hear the words that came out of your mouth right now?

[A bit defensively:] Yeah!

...

[A bit defeatedly:] Yeah.

Oh, sugah, I know.

[ How anyone can say this with a straight face is a mystery — fortunately not one we need solve. Jim is grinning, radiating mischief. ]

I've got the filling done already. There's a square tin in the cupboard.

[...well someone has to ask this, because he is quite honestly surprised no one has. Although he is currently re-constructing weaponry so he's not sure he is the wisest person on what to do when one is bored ...

However. Logic is logic.

So while he is building - some sort of electrical based sword - he drawls over the video.]

Have you tried simply reading a better book?

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.03 Were you dazzled by the same constellation?

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