driftfleet | (no subject)

Who: Nel
Broadcast: Open; video
Action: Planetside
When: Nighttime, end of the month

[whether or not he admits it to himself, Nel knows that the Marsiva will be leaving the planet's range soon. he doesn't know what will happen once it does--whether it will take him with or leave him behind. maybe something bad will happen. maybe nothing at all.

either way, after the sun goes down on one of those mysterious few days when the Marsiva could be leaving the planet's range at any time (maybe a few hours? maybe another day or two?) Nel is still bumming around on the planet.

he almost looks like he belongs there; he's even got shady company. sitting against the wall of some building downtown, he's right in the middle of a small gathering of other adolescent derelicts, laughing stupidly and passing around a bottle of something they're all probably too young for. the thing that really sets him apart from the others are the two neon-colored feathered boas and matching dangly feather earrings he's got from recent shopping trips on the way-stations.

anyone still lingering nearby on the planet has a high likelihood of getting jeered and catcalled by him and the other teenagers. otherwise, there's a transmission that picks up in the middle of the camera spinning and jostling.]

--me that! I said it's not a toy. You're going to get snow in all its... parts...

[and then the camera is righted and centers on his face, slightly fogged by the smoke from his cigarette... and then smudged by fingerprints as he tries to clean it off.]

Oops, you turned it on. ...See? It's like a phone, kind of... [the camera then turns so a couple of young, local faces can peer into it]

Say hi!

[and on cue, they all wave! ...and then start making every obscene gesture they can think of. happy new year's eve, Fleet!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Yeah! That's what I said!

[yay, he's glad that they're on the same page here! he feels so vindicated right now.]

Oh... me? [and he reaches up to pinch his cold, red ears with his cold, red fingers.] I'm Elven.

Elven.

[Not one he's heard of, and he wonders if they're related to Vulcans or Romulans after all. He tips his head, studying him as best he can.]

I'm a Cardassian, for reference.

Cardassian?

So you're not... [and he hesitates for a second, balking at actually saying whatever it is he was about to. and so just gestures vaguely, shrugging at the camera] ...you know.

Oh, do say what you thought I was. It'd be fascinating to know.

[he leans close, and lowers his voice to a conspiratorial hush.]

Well... a dragon.

[He raises a ridge.]

Alas, I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I don't breathe fire.

Only some of them breathe fire... but, I'm glad.

[kind of a nervous laugh.]

I never know what to say around them.

Have you ever tried hello?

[another little laugh!]

I've got that part down! It's everything after that.

Have you ever met one? They're scary...

I haven't yet, but it's only been a few days. Perhaps I'll be lucky.

Oh, you don't want to meet one of them.

Elves are much nicer.

[yeah, that's a pretty flirty look there. but that also might be his default way of being friendly.]

[It's the same for Garak, honestly-- what might be construed as flirting might simply be a smirky look. Or it might be flirting. Who can say!]

Now, that seems a somewhat biased impression, but I may be prepared to take you on your word for it. For now.

[he giggles as he burns the rest of his cigarette down to the filter, and then flicks what's left off into the snow somewhere. the camera gets all foggy there for a minute while he huffs out that big lungful of smoke.]

...So what are Cardassians like, then?

Highly secretive.

(no subject)

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