Gumball Wishes and Taxicab Dreams

[thespaceopera]

[On today's episode of the Drift Fleet:

The cargo holds are full of mysterious crates! The crews are filling beyond capacity with new faces! Official alerts are informing the passengers that they are signed to contracts that they've never agreed to! They are docking at the dazzling FS Starlight, but are flat broke!

What are they going to do!? Stay tuned to find out!


...Meaning, this is a kickoff mingle for you all to enjoy the beginning of the latest plot setting. This is a convenient place to start threads relating to the first week of the event-- meeting new crewmembers, reacting to the mysterious cargo, arriving on the station and discovering that you're all broke, etc.

Tag around, start whatever you'd like, have fun. And, as always, feel free to make your own posts and mingles from here on in, as this will be the only mod-posted one for this event!]

Comments

[goodjob]

[She snorts, assuming he's joking.]

[She takes a moment to think on his answer. Just... let that sink in.] Yeah, they have tripwires in 'em. What did you do? [It is, mostly accidentally, the voice she uses to weasel information out of her siblings.]

[feathery]

[Davesprite looks at one of the lizards, who stares back.]

Nothing much. [He isn't a Light player, with a knack for making the odds br8 in his favor.] But they're not really...sprite-proof? [Or shadow-proof. Or possibly time proof, depending.] To be honest, my friend Jade is better with them than me.

[Because spacey powers, yo.]

[goodjob]

[She remembers something about 'Sprite' being his last name. About writing something on the form, smudging it out, writing it again...]

[There's a lizard on her shoulder.] Tell your fucking buddies we'll get there when we get there. [The lizard narrows its eyes. Fiona either doesn't notice or is ignoring it.]

So you rig the machines with your wings? I'm gonna need more details than that. [Oh, c'mon, you're not his fucking mom, says a little voice in her head. It sounds suspiciously like Frank.] I'm writing an article on teenage gambling. Epidemic gripping our nation, all that.

[How's that for casual disinterest.]

[feathery]

[Davesprite squints. Do the lizards actually have eyelids? How fucking weird.]

Yeah, I stuff feathers into the slot and they take 'em like coins. Who would have figured being part bird would serve me so well in space. I'm rolling in currency.

[He says it with a faint hint of a wry smile.]

They got a couple casinos around with old-fashioned machines. I don't know if they're for nostalgia value or what.

[goodjob]

[Yes, they have fucking eyelids because they're space lizards, obviously, Mr armchair zoologist.]

What, are you trying to keep me in the dark on purpose? [But she smiles back.] I think there's some kinda Earth fad here, you should see what they're selling at the fast food places. [Uh.] See. Not eat.

[feathery]

[It's not my fault Davesprite keeps weird dead things preserved in various ways and would notice that shit.]

I'll show you sometime. It's not like we're going anywhere for a while, if previous pit stops are any indication.

[But oh no. The look he shoots her is a little concerned.]

Why not eat. [The food from these cabin-fever respites are one of the only things tiding him over.]

[goodjob]

[Fiona's shoulder-lizard opens its mouth very slowly, then closes it. There's a slight hissing noise accompanying this, but it's just a few seconds off, like a badly-timed dub.] Okay, okay!

[She steps on the gas and starts weaving through traffic. Don't learn to drive in Illinois. Especially don't learn to drive in Illinois in a vacant lot behind a broken down Chuck-E-Cheese with a stolen car at the age of fourteen.]

They taste like a Happy Meal. Don't look like one, but they taste like it. Like the whole Happy Meal, burger, fries, ketchup... bag, cardboard. Toy.

[feathery]

[Davesprite's nose wrinkles.]

Fuck, really. I mean I could handle most of that, I think, but the bag? The toy??? What does a Happy Meal toy even taste like. Plastic? The tears of underpaid factory workers?

[goodjob]

[She laughs.] Yeah, I think whatever aliens landed and grabbed this shit thought it was all the meal. You know tourists.

And it tastes like plastic and metal. And grease. Lots of grease.

[feathery]

I've never been so distressed in my whole life.

[He said, monotonously.]

It was bad enough when everything tasted like salt on Arslae.

[goodjob]

Including the lizard fish? [curious about ur space adventures bro]

[feathery]

I didn't eat the lizardfish.

[Almost pouting here. Jeez, Fiona, show a little more faith in him!]

That was on the desert moon, anyway. I felt like I was supposed to walk into a saloon and introduce myself as Clint Eastwood.

[goodjob]

I don't think he- [She shakes her head.] How many planets you been on since- [Since- she says it a little unsure, as though tasting the word and finding it bitter.] Asgard?

[feathery]

Uh. Three actual planets. Then there was the moon, some waystations...

[He trails off, thinking briefly of the Marsiva, before he shrugs.]

Nothing really interesting, to be honest. What about you. You said you were on another planet with real Dave.

[Where she...apparently died.]

[goodjob]

A moon? I never been to a moon.

[She decides to go light for the answer to his question.] I only went to a few. One was all snow all the time-- the other you fucking hated it. And one was... a lot like this, actually. But with beaches. And one was on fucking fire. The last one was just a nature preserve.

[feathery]

[Davesprite gives her a slanted, sideways look.]

Don't tell me it was another reality TV show.

[goodjob]

No, it was waste removal. [The lie falls out of her mouth as easy as a dream. Lying to children has never been hard for her. It's adult who give her problems.] Very glamorous. Wish I still had the brochure.

[feathery]

[His expression is wry—waste removal, really?—but he doesn't question it.

If only he knew it was more accurate than he thought.]

How'd you end up there. Did they nab you straight from Asgard?

[goodjob]

[yo.]