driftfleet | Video/Action

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Video/Action

Who: FDR and OPEN
Broadcast: Fleetwide
Action: A bar somewhere
When: Now

[He’s dressed in a sleek suit, folded collar, black tie, slicked back hair, the whole fancy ensemble. It’s new and it makes him feel somewhat normal again. Hence, the very late, but first public introduction.

He’s sitting on the edge of his bed with his hands clasped together between his knees.]

Hey there, other...captives. TV stars. Whatever we’re being called. And I guess. Anyone else watching. My name is FDR. Yeah, it’s letters. And yeah, like the president. No, I’m not a president, but you know, I don’t mind pretending if anyone wants to be my Marilyn. [And he grins cheekily.] But, really, being named after the guy who came up with that whole “The only thing to fear is fear itself” crap isn’t bad. I mean, a lot of people buy that. It’s not true, by the way. There’s a shitload of stuff to be scared of. Like WMDs. ...My boss. ...Being on an alien’s version of The Real World.

[And he shakes his head, still a little disgusted at the prospect of reality TV. Those were dark days.]

So, back home I was the cruise ship captain of a [smirk] very large vessel. And you know, being in the business of pleasure cruises, I have to say, this one seriously lacks. I mean, people can’t be watching us just to see us busting our asses earning some money, so where’s all the drama, violence, and sex happening? That’s how MTV got their ratings. Or murder...has that happened at all? I mean, not on MTV-I don’t think- on the ships...obviously.[So smooth.]

And I’ve seen some people talking about people they know up and disappearing, anyone know for sure what happens to them? Not enough popularity? Do they get demoted to the alien version of Fear Factor? Star in their own snuff films?

[And he looks like he’s done with his questions for now, he even leans forward to shut off the video, but then pauses, a small smirk gracing his features.]

Oh. And just out of pure curiosity, has anyone tried racing the shuttles?

Action: A bar. Any bar.

[Bars aren’t his favorite scene, there’s just not enough energy. It’s a bunch of depressed and tired people sitting at tables and on barstools nursing their emotions and their booze. He usually prefers clubs, there’s an energy to be found in the loud music and lights and swaying bodies. But this feels more appropriate after working all day at a job he really doesn’t like. He’s not interested in the game so much as he’s interested in the end result right now. And that’s to get drunk.

He’s sitting at the bar, a couple of empty shot glasses in front of him, and the latest in his fingers. The only thing that’s giving him a reason to pause is the woman that moves over next to him to order a drink.]

You. [And he points the pinky finger of his shot-holding hand at her, smiles when the single word catches her attention.] Are shining like a bright light.

[She rolls her eyes and moves away from him and he chuckles lightly at his failure.] Well, guess it’s more of a club line than a bar line.

[And he slams back his shot before setting the glass back on the bar with a clank.] Top it off.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Oh, hey Leto, buddy ol' pal. He gets a grin he reserves for people he knows before he shakes his head.]

It's the shuttle driving, man. Too much time to think. I don't know how people just drive for a living without going insane. How are you doing, man?

Not going insane and not being depressed. So that must mean I'm one up from you already.

Hey, hey. Not depressed, not really deep enough for that. [Some days he really believes that.] And not insane. Just...contemplative.

What's so different, if such brooding leads to terrible conclusions? You're too young to worry about what might happen in the future.

It's not a terrible conclusion. There are worse ways to go out. And...what the hell? Why are you preaching to me about age. [You definitely look younger, pal.] ...How old are you?

Physically or mentally?

[ He tends to use his mental age. Physical age means little to him. ]

Mentally doesn't count, dude. Not when you've got like every relative's memories bouncing around in your head.

I was not aware there were rules in place.

How old do you think I am?

[His brow arches at that.]

Ah man, there's never a way to win this game.

[Still. He crosses his arms and narrows his eyes, like he's looking for some particular sign.]

Mmmm...Early twenties.

Close enough, I suppose. I am eighteen by your reckoning. Pushing nineteen, I suppose.

[ It took him some time to calculate. He's never been one to think about age, so long as it's teasing someone else about theirs. He feels his age in his bones. ]

[His brow arches slightly with that information. Well. At least he's old enough to smoke? ]

Alright, I'll bite. How old do you like to say you are?

I don't know. I don't normally ever say.

[ Putting an age to himself seems redundant. ] I let other people decide.

Alright. So, you really embrace that whole 'age is just a number' thing.

[Fair enough.]

But...if you're only eighteen in actual body and personal experiences...

Just how much have you actually experienced?

[ He cocks his head, bemused. ]

What makes you think there is a difference? Every memory you have is still real, no matter where or when it happened. Every touch, every sensation, every crystal clear moment is still mine.

Just not one I ever acted on.

Oh come on. I mean, I've got some pretty vivid memories, but they wouldn't hold a light to the actual thing if it was happening to me right now. It can't possibly be the same thing.

Can't it? Nostalgia and memory are powerful tools. They influence us even without meaning to. You can't simply cut it off.

I have no doubt you are an expert in the matter. But remembering a kiss and kissing someone, aren't even close to the same thing.

[ Teasingly ]

And you're an expert on that?

[A grin.]

That and everything that usually follows.

Big words but they need to be backed up, as they say.

[ Leto can follow slang well enough at times, but he's quite bad at it. ]

[His brow arches in amusement. Pretty forward, buddy.]

Needs to be, huh? Well, I am a man that's willing to back up his words. [And he makes a hand gesture like he's got no real choice in the matter.]

Well, you were the one supporting the side of experience. It only makes sense that I ask for proof.

Oh, definitely. Only makes sense. [He's chuckling anyway.]

Well, I'm heading to the bar. I have no idea what alien standards are for drinking, but you're welcome to join me.

You must be in dire straits already if you're resorting to drinking.

[ He considers this and nods. ]

Why not. I'll be there post-haste.

More like bored. Plus, I found one that has pool on the station. [And he'll just text Leto the location.] Looking forward to it.

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