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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

[goodjob]

Uh, okay. This one time, I shot the head off a landshark.

[feathery]

...Yeah, I don't have anything that can compete with that.

[goodjob]

It's not a competition. But I'll tell you the landshark story if you want. It's less thrilling when you know it was a training exercize.

[feathery]

Ok. Let's hear those deets, 'cause I'm half wondering what kind of training exercise requires you to guillotine a landshark by shotgun.

[goodjob]

It was a gauss rifle, if that means anything to you. [Probably not.] We were low on supplies, so they had us go out and hunt some fuckers down. I didn't have a ton of firearm experience, so I tagged along, got jumped, [She makes a tiny gun with her hand and mimes firing it.]

[feathery]

Shit. [It's torn between mildly surprised and impressed, and he suddenly remembers Fiona flipping out over him even touching a gun. Weird.]

I dunno if the training exercise really takes away from that, to be honest. Uh, let's see.

[There's a sizable pause as he tries to think of a story worth telling.]

Oh. I learned how to fish. [He sounds a little doubtful about that fact being interesting.]

[goodjob]

[Her face breaks out into a genuine smile.] In space? You stop off on a planet with fish on it?

[feathery]

It looked more like a lizard than a fish.

[Still, thanks to the smile, he sounds a little pleased with himself.]

But yeah, kind of. It turns out you can trawl the desert for all kinds of weird sand critters in space.

[goodjob]

Always wanted to learn to fish and all that Little House on the Prarie shit. Not exactly one with nature back home. 'Specially not since- [This kid never went to Macha. She shrugs, imperfectly covering for her stumble. Mock skeptical:] So you learned to fish in a desert?

[feathery]

A moon desert.

[If only Fiona made it to Aqada.]

Nothing but fucking sand for as far as the eye could see.

[goodjob]

A moon desert.

[She's still smiling.]

What, they were sand-fish?

[feathery]

They were the sandiest fucking fish I ever saw. So sandy they didn't look like fish at all, but I guess no one cares about semantics out in space. You haul it in with a fishing rod, it's a goddamn fish and no one can tell you different.

[goodjob]

It was sandy? [She grimaces, still grinning. The prototypical eww, gross face. Carl would be proud.] Did you eat it?

[feathery]

Uh.

[He'd be making a face if she could see it.]

Does it count if I thought about it.

[goodjob]

Yeah. [She's laughing.] You must be getting pretty sick of this protein junk, huh?

[feathery]

[He produces a very teenage groan of exasperation in reply.]

You have no fucking idea. What does it take to get a burrito around this place? You'd think the future would be lined with fast food pit stops in space, but there is not a McDonald's to be seen. It's hard to find apple juice.

[Said like apple juice is an easily accessible commodity in all corners of space.]