gettin shippy with it?

[acuition]

Who: the good folks on the caprine
Broadcast: not likely!
Action: for the good folks on the caprine, or anybody visiting.
When: right now? right now!!!

[ Whether you're new to the ship or happy to be back or really mad to be back...you're here. That's what matters.

Because it's a mingle post. You know how it is. ]

Comments

open open open - this is your captain speaking

[deshabille]

[Mal is just Excited To Be Here, quite frankly. She loves the Caprine. Loves. Luvs. As such, the first day finds her buried deep in the engine, banging around in Engineer Thrillsville, sating her quite literal hunger for this particular brand of problem-solving and making sure everything is up to scratch and/or snuff. She does emerge in the evening, though, cheerfully covered in grease and ready to hug or shoulder-punch anyone she knows and stare curiously at new arrivals. Professionalism!]

[For the rest of the time, she can be found fussing around in parts of the ship that are not technically her business at all - poking at the displays on the bridge, practicing hand-to-hand or ballet in the cargo bay (shut up, Joseph), or lingering in the kitchen with a cup of coffee and a curious stare for anyone who's willing to even vaguely look in her direction.]

[Occasionally she will make captain's updates over the loudspeakers, mostly to hear the sound of her own voice. For example:]

This is your captain speaking. Have you ever considered the possibility that this is all a dream? That the month of dreams was, in fact, the waking world? That your real existence is hopping from reality to reality like a particularly restless spirit? What an intriguing prospect. Please consider and discuss, then get back to me with your opinions. There will be a test.

[If you are unlucky enough to get cornered by Mal when the Caprine is near a waystation, she will also probably drag you out for drinking, or shopping for big black sensible boots, or for a fight, or all three. This is your life now, new passengers. Welcome the sweet embrace of madness.]

well the subject of the post told me to

[openhands]

[Quite frankly, she should have known that things would have turned out like this the moment Mal suggested they spend time off the Caprine and on the waystation. Mal is more or less incapable of spending a quiet evening out even when she makes all assurances that it will just be some drinks and that will be that. Of course she starts a fight.]

[Not that she does so overtly. She's too clever for that, but too infuriating to avoid a fight altogether. Cassandra should have ignored it. She should have stayed in her seat, drinking and minding her own business. Mal would be fine on her own. But she didn't. Cassandra got right into the middle of it more for the protection of the other party than Mal. After which they couldn't possibly stay there, so Cassandra drags Mal out of the bar and they walk a while in silence.]

[Cassandra isn't...mad. If she was, she'd be lecturing Mal right now knowing full well that she doesn't exactly mean any of it and that next to none of it will sink it for Mal. The ranting, in that instance, would be for her benefit rather than Mal's. But she's silent and exasperated instead because...well...Cassandra likes the noise. She likes the senseless use of energy. She likes the frustration. She likes not knowing why she keeps coming back when it's usually accompanied by this much aggravation. Except that she does know. She knows and what a startling revelation that is. Startling and wonderful that she thinks to say something.]

[Cassandra slows to a stop and catches Mal by the arm. But she doesn't say anything. She means to. In fact, she means to even as she turns Mal to face her, right up until the moment they meet eyes. But Cassandra's never been good at speaking and whatever odd combination of words she had intended to fumble her way through right then and there simply fly away in favor of pressing her lips to Mal's.]

screams

[deshabille]

[In a lot of ways, moments like these are the ones that emphasize most how absolutely inhuman Mal is at her core. She ought to be breathless, bruised-up, bleeding. She isn't. She looks as perfect as though she's just woken up and spent an hour getting ready, precisely as disheveled as she wants to be.]

[And she's grinning. Grinning and laughing, a high and light sound not much like her ordinary low chuckle, because fighting makes her giddy and sometimes, lately, it feels safer to get a little closer to a giggle. With Cassandra, it's safer. Because she can be exactly what she is, even when she doesn't have words to label herself with, and Cassandra likes it anyway.]

[Truly, she's expecting a lecture. Her knuckles have split and knitted up again in minutes, and she's running her fingers through her hair and laughing and just waiting, because she likes the lectures, honestly she does, they make her feel - alive and paid attention to and, and that other thing - but it isn't coming and she likes that, too, she likes everything about this, the way her nerve endings sing after a good fight and she can hear Cassandra's heartbeat on the wind.]

[But then her arm is caught and she looks up, questioning. Sometimes the lecture doesn't happen and something else does instead, and she wants to hear what Cassandra has to say, she does. Every time she does. Except--]

[Cassandra doesn't say anything. She just is, and then is closer, and despite herself and all her hoping Mal freezes and doesn't respond for a long moment because she isn't certain she's not just imagining things. It's been - she was worried she was making mistakes, but Cassandra would have said so, of course, she doesn't stand for less than what she wants.]

[So this is . . . what she wants.]

[That is what makes the tension flow from Mal's shoulders, lets her hands settle at Cassandra's waist and lean in to kiss her back. Finally, finally, they want the same thing.]

[openhands]

[Foolishly, Cassandra worries for that brief moment in which Mal is frozen that perhaps she's made a mistake. But what a stupid thought that is to hold. Of course Mal is going to kiss her back. She's not even remotely surprised once she does, but she does flush a little for ever having the other thought in the first place. Cassandra's hand falls away from Mal's arm to rest at her shoulder and then wrap around her neck. Her other arm holds Mal around her middle. For a brief moment, she's content with just this. There are vague thoughts, wondering why she didn't do this sooner and the like, but for the most part her attention is on Mal and kissing her.]

[Cassandra is the one to break the kiss, her eyes fluttering open once more. For a few seconds, there's a softness to her eyes and she looks at Mal as though she is the most precious thing in this world or any other. Perhaps she is. But the look is gone almost as quickly, replaced instead with that earlier look of wanting to scold and lecture.]

You said there wasn't going to be any trouble tonight.

[deshabille]

[Well, it's a good thing Cassandra's thinking because Mal isn't at all. That's one of the nice things about kissing: you don't really have to think so much, you just have to act and be. So her mind can shut off for a little while.]

[It's . . . sort of a relief. But she's also finding that it's hard to turn it back on. Because Cassandra pulls away a little (not much, but a little) and the look in her eyes is the most beautiful thing Mal's ever seen, probably, and she doesn't even really register that it's directed at her but she thinks sort of vaguely that whatever Cassandra's looking at must be very nice . . .]

[God, she's amazing. Look at her, she's so amazing. Wow. Yikes.]

[What?]

Huh?

[Blink, blink.]

[openhands]

[There's something about the way Mal is looking at her that errs close to the side of being cute. And that's a strange thought to have about Mal. Mal is many things, but cute is not frequently one of them. Huh.]

You said there wasn't going to be any trouble tonight.

[Cassandra repeats, the emphasis placed upon the fact it had been Mal's word. Not that she particularly minds or is overly offended by it, of course. That kiss wouldn't have happened, she wouldn't still be standing here this close to Mal, and she wouldn't still have her hands on Mal if she was bothered by that particular broken promise. If she was, it would be shame on Cassandra, frankly. She should know better. But Mal still might as well be a little more forthcoming about her desire to cause trouble.]

[deshabille]

Oh. I did, didn't I . . .

[Now that she actually hears what Cassandra is saying, she sort of feels bad about it. Not much, but more bad than not bad at all. She doesn't want to make Cassandra have a difficult time, because Cassandra is - important, and - yes. She's really very very important.]

[What was she going to say? Oh, yes.]

Sorry. [And it really does sound like she means it, because for once she really does.] I got a bit - carried away. Mm.

[Because certain people are very distracted and get her excited just by being there and make her feel the need to move. But it's still her fault and she knows it.]

Sorry, [she says again.] We can go somewhere else if you want. No trouble this time. Promise.

[acuition]

[ New arrival here, and one who might be familiar from dream-sharing.

And during her looks around (partially to explore, partially to find someplace to sleep...not...around other people, she once walks in on one of those ballet practices. And...well, she's at least polite enough to wait for what seems like a good moment. ]

Is this how our captain passes her time?

[deshabille]

[At the very least Mal is good at it. Passable, anyway. She wasn't at first, and it's hard for her not to be perfect on the first pass, but she's gotten good enough that doing it in public is no longer embarrassing.]

[Also anyone who mocks her will be stepped on. Joseph can confirm.]

[She settles to the flats of her feet and half-turns to look at One curiously. Oh, this one.]

Sometimes. Not always, but sometimes. Do you have suggestions for what I should be doing instead?

[acuition]

[ She's been told before that it's hard to tell when she isn't being critical-- maybe she should have taken that more to heart. ]

Not at all. If you have the time, you may as well use it.

[ The ship seems to more or less run itself, and...well. She can't say she lacks regrets on how she'd spent much of her time before coming here. ]

[deshabille]

Well, there's not as much to do here as you might expect.

[She sighs a little, twists back at the waist so she's facing forward, watching One out of the corner of her eye. It's disappointing. She's used to being busier. But she likes the people, at least.]

It's meant to be training, anyway. Balance and precision training.

[acuition]

[ She nods, slowly. ]

If it's helped, then I think it's worth doing.

[ And...honestly, that's caught her interest. ]

[deshabille]

It's helped a lot. I'm a bit . . .

[She wiggles her hand vaguely.]

Very strong. But not precise. I would just hit things. So Natasha decided to fix it, so I didn't get anyone killed.

because idt their wrassling matches should ever end, i guess

[nextlineis]

[Look, this time he won't laugh at you about your ballet, Mal. This time, he'll be trying to avoid getting touched. He sees that look in Mal's eyes, knows what it is, and is very determined not to go down this route (again). He levels a finger at her, starting to back up.]

You're covered in grease. Don't.

literally never

[deshabille]

[wiggly captain fingers @ u jojo]

Don't what.

Don't what, Jojo.

[M E N A C I N G]

be concerned if they don't wrassle tbh

[nextlineis]

You know damn well what!

[Crap that's a wall. He's just going to start sliding along it then, trying to keep distance between the two of them.]

[deshabille]

[Slide away, little friend. Wiggly captain fingers persevere in their pursuit.]

I don't know what you're talking about. Come here so I can shake your hand.

[nextlineis]

Why are you still doing this to me!? We have plenty of other, newer crew members!

[Stop picking on him, oh my God!! He's going to slide away faster!!]

[deshabille]

But you're my favorite!

[So saying, she zip-zip-zips forward at top vampire speed and pinches his cheeks with her greasy fingers. Faaaavorite.]

what am i doing idfkkkkk

[shoujoreject]

[It's a far cry from the atmosphere of the Marsiva, something he's still not really... used to. And the captain seems... well, he'd hesitate to say off, but certainly she's different. Nosy, maybe. He doesn't mind the staring too much, even if he doesn't know how to react to it.

It's the second or third time he catches her staring that he offers an awkward sort of smile and a wave. He's not sure whether or not he should greet her verbally... so he doesn't, at least just yet.]

THIS IS SO LATE I'M SORRY ;w;

[deshabille]

[She is both different and very nosy, somewhat cognizant of the fact that she pries too much but entirely unwilling to back off unless specifically called on it. Mark it as a vampiric trait or an individual character flaw or both; either way, she absolutely is staring, and when he looks at her and waves she tips her chin up with a small smile.]

Don't you talk?

SHSHS IT'S FINE also omg mal pls, what if he *was* mute, gosh!! /shot

[shoujoreject]

I do, but it didn't seem like the right moment for it.

[He responds... remarkably well to the blunt inquiry, frankly because it's really not even close to the most blunt or offensive he's heard. With a smile that's just lopsided enough to look completely genuine, he brushes a hand through his hair.]

You're the captain, right? Your name was, ah... [Ah, he'd looked at all the names, but hers seems to have slipped his mind in this moment.]

THEN SHE would probably still be just as rude i'm sorry

[deshabille]

Pick your moment, make it the right moment.

[Sage advice from a vampire, to whom people rarely say no. Mal, your experiences are not generalizable. She cocks her head at him.]

Mal. Maladict. Whatever suits. And you're - which of your names do I call you?

OH WELL at least Qing is tolerant almost to a fault...

[shoujoreject]

I suppose that's very true.

[Sage advice he couldn't currently take if he wanted to. Which he probably does, honestly. It's hard to catch the seam on his smile, though. At her question, he blinks once.]

Ah... right. My given first name is Qing-Yuan, but a lot of people just call me Qing. It seems to be hard to roll off the tongue when you aren't used to Chinese. I hope we'll be able to work together well, Mal. [He inclines his head at that, just the faintest bow.]

a good quality on this ship honestly

[deshabille]

I'm not. --Used to Chinese, I mean. We actually don't have most of the languages people speak here where I come from, so it's been exciting.

[She actually genuinely means this. Sure, she misses home, but she also likes it here a lot. This place, these people, are important to her.]

You don't have to bow, you know. Can if you want to, don't have to. Just don't be an idiot and that'll be good enough. I'm used to salutes anyway.