steve's luck with things that fly is nonexistent, really.

[enshields]

Who: Crew of the Bloodsport, anyone who'd drop by!
Broadcast: N/A
Action: Anywhere on the ship.
When: 12/13/15 specifically, but you can really pick and choose as much as you would like as far as dates go. Get your mingle on!

ps: as an aside, the bit of media that Steve received was a 'Star-Spangled Man' USO performance so if anyone wants to have seen that so hilarity can ensue, feel free.

Comments

[birdsbirdsbirds]

Absolutely.

[the answer is to both questions, really. he turns, nodding his head towards the end of the hall in the hopes that Winter will just start following him.]

How are you with engine noise? It runs pretty quiet while we're parked, but the core generator still has these cooling fans that make that kind of whoov whoov sound at about one rotation every one-point-five seconds...

[yeah, he. made the whoov whoov fan noise while spinning his finger around, it's exactly as silly as you'd imagine.]

[reconstitution]

[ He does indeed start following Robin down the hall. Winter considers the question of noise before he shrugs. If he tries hard enough, he can ignore it. ]

I'm sure it will be fine.

[ Robin, you joyous creature, you. ]

[birdsbirdsbirds]

[he grins a little, even if only to himself.]

Then I've got just the place. Back of the ship, c'mon.

[it's not a very long walk, but he still leads him down into the engine room. Robin probably spends more time back here than he does in his own bunk room, and evidence of that is spread out over two work-benches pressed against the wall. lots of notes, blueprints, scraps of metal, half-finished mechanical nonsense.

he leads him around the engine itself (humming gently in revolutions, just like he said). it's hard to see from the doorway, but he's got some cloth stretched out like a hammock in the corner, for sitting or for laying. still very close to the ground, in case he needs to get up in a hurry. an open crate's been set on its side; throw pillows and a blanket are tossed inside, and there's a glowing yellow fish in a fishbowl on top, in place of a lamp.]

I don't always sleep great, so sometimes I come in here and work instead. And then when the ships were malfunctioning, sometimes I didn't want to sleep far from the engine anyway...

[he explains this as he moves past the hammock and bumps a wall panel in with his shoe. it's one of those secret tactical spots, and he crouches down to reach inside... and pull out a couple of books of his own.]

So I figured, hey, might as well put something up while I'm here.

[reconstitution]

[ He follows Robin closely, though not quite at his heels. The engine room looks used, even cared for. He doesn't even know what the Heron's engine room looks like. Similar, obviously, but he's never felt the need to step inside.

Winter is honestly impressed at the little setup that Robin has out of the view of watchful eyes. It's cozy, doesn't look cramped, and it's low enough that escape is convenient. The yellow fish is silly and out of place, and yet all the more welcome. It's a claimed space, and the presence of the books makes it all the better. He feels a little guilty now for cashing in the favor. He's invading this secret little spot of Robin's. ]

It's great.

[ Which is a lot more opinionated than he has been lately. He shuffles forward and crouches, watching the glowing fish swim in its little home without a care in the world. ]

[birdsbirdsbirds]

Good. [to which the corner of his mouth crooks up in half a smirk, watching this kind-of-scary guy crouch down to look at one of the least-threatening pets in the universe.] You can hang out as long as you want, I don't really mind.

[Robin comes from a crowded world. everyone always watches everyone, and the Underground's tunnels ran out of room for "personal space" a few centuries ago. he's used to wedging himself into small spaces and dressing them up as home. he'd never get any breathing room, otherwise.

so it doesn't occur to him as particularly impressive, even though he appreciates the compliment. he sets the books down on the corner of the crate, since he doesn't intend to read them himself.]

And I'd been meaning to get these to you anyway. Your mystery book reminded me.