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[goodjob]

Who: Fiona Gallagher and you.
Broadcast: fleetwide
Action: the Marsiva
When: 1/20

[The camera manages to catch Fiona waking up with an angry yelp before she stumbles furiously out of bed, and off screen. Something like a muffled scream can be heard, but not seen. She's gone for a fair amount of time before she returns to addresse the camera directly.]

[She looks tired, a breath away from haggard. Her voice is harsh.] I feel like my room's been downgraded. What are our coordinates? [She frowns, scratches the back of her neck.] Where are we? And... how long's it been since the fire?

[That out of the way, she relaxes and asks in a more conversational tone:] And has anybody got a smoke? I'm definitely not quitting now. [She rolls her eyes.]

Oh, and Adrien, you owe me a drink. [Muttered:] At least.

[Anyone who wants to find Fiona on the bridge of the Marsiva is welcome to do so! They can find her when she just woke up, when she went off screen to scream into a pillow, or after the message when she'll be spending her time inspecting everything, and trying to find some cigarettes.]

Comments

ur fuckin killing me

[goodjob]

Well, okay, Fire Brigade, I'm Fiona Gallagher. Recreational pyromaniac. [Can a wave be sarcastic? This one can.]

[sandhate]

[ pffbbbt ]

Anakin Skywalker, Jedi Knight and pilot of the Paisley.

[goodjob]

[She narrows her eyes a little. Skywalker, that sounds familiar. Isn't that from those shows Lip used to watch? What were they called?]

[Star Trek.]

[More importantly:] I knew a Jedi once. He looked kinda like the guy from Moulin Rouge. [Jokingly,] Do you guys all know each other, or is that racist?

[sandhate]

...What's a Moulin Rogue?

[goodjob]

It's this shitty movie with singing. Look, you're clearly not from Earth, so you've never heard of it.

[sandhate]

Well, if it's that bad, I wouldn't watch it anyway.

You're from a planet called Earth?

[goodjob]

I wouldn't recommend it.

Yeah, Earth, third rock from the sun, Milky Way Galaxy. We invented those little umbrellas you put in drinks. Where're you from?

[sandhate]

Wha-- Nevermind. [ squints ] Which sun is that?

[goodjob]

[Fiona has been in space long enough to know that 'the sun' is not going to be an acceptable answer, and spends the next hour and a half idly trying to remember the other name for the sun that Lip used in that astronomy project he did in middle school. When she replies to Anakin's message, she's packed as much smug pride that can fit into a single syllable:]

Sol.

[sandhate]

[ flippantly: ]

Huh. Never heard of it. What's the next closest star system?

[goodjob]

Fuck if I know! What part of 'pre-spaceflight' don't you understand?

[sandhate]

[ well fuck you too ]

Well, you seemed pretty knowledgeable a moment ago!

[goodjob]

Oh, yeah, I know the name of the sun, I'm a fucking expert.

[sandhate]

And the position of your planet, and your galaxy!

[goodjob]

Yeah? [She kind of stares, thinking. Keep an open mind, Fiona.] What, is that special knowledge or something? We get PBS.

[sandhate]

I can make up names too, you know.

1/2.

[goodjob]

[goodjob]

Okay, prove it.

[sandhate]

[ HUTTESE? ]

[goodjob]

What the fuck.

[sandhate]

[ fucking eye rolls. ] What is PBS?

[goodjob]

[Rubs face.] Public broadcast network. Free educational programming.

[sandhate]

See, that wasn't so hard.

And it's not special knowledge. But someone who've been around off-worlders might know. Or might be more comfortable with naming planets, stars and galaxies.

[goodjob]

I can name the planets fine, but I dunno the nearby stars or anything like that. I can do constellations, but those don't look the same from space. [...] Right?

[sandhate]

No, that doesn't work. Constellations doesn't mean anything when you can be looking at it from all angles.

You could be from another universe entirely.