driftfleet | ➽ VIDEO

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➽ VIDEO

Who: Kate Bishop + YOU
Broadcast: Fleetwide.
Action: Bishop, if you like. Sorry guys.
When: Valentine's Night

[ bless her, but she's figured out these devices pretty quickly. and why shouldn't she? they're only a bare step above her top-of-the-line smartphone. except that thing hasn't been getting service since before the marsiva. and now... ]

So. I've heard it's February 14th. And how good of the Atroma to get me my very own monogrammed ship. Apparently it's the perfect gift for the girl who so recently had everything. [ tacky, much? kate kinda cringes every time she sees her family name on her assigned ship -- regardless of how coincidental it might be. ] Kate Bishop, reporting for duty aboard the SS Bishop. I kid you not.

[ haha, tres funny. ]

Can we change? Ships, I mean. Not that this one isn't lovely, sure. But I'm getting flashbacks to summer camp at Interlochen and my mother writing my name on all my shirt tags.

[ speaking of shirts... ] Rogue? Can you hear me? [ she knows rogue taught her about the locked transmissions, but that still kinda evades her at the moment. ] I think it's time you showed me 'round this space station I keep hearing so much about.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Ohgawd, ohgawd, we're all gonna die," Rogue said dryly with a small smile. They were still parked, and she really wasn't worried. Rogue pointed with a gloved hand to an instrument on the deck, "What's that do?"

It was similar in many ways to a common gyroscope, except there was no horizon to measure against so one part of it gauged the necessary speed to maintain a constant fuel burn and the other part served as a proximity alert, offering a sense of perspective in the nothingness of space.

Kate gave her answer. And, once she'd said it out loud, it didn't sound quite so insane.

So proceeded the lesson. Rogue would do the responsible thing of leading her into conclusions, and Kate would find her way there with minimum frustration. She might not possess an augment suited to piloting, but she was a capable driver in her own right. She wasn't out to sea without a life-preserver, so to speak. And Rogue's presence only did more to help her grow comfortable with the shuttle.

They took it for a few turns. Each one smoother than the last. Until -- when she felt good about things -- Kate piped up: "So. Docking. You wanted to take charge of that, right?"

"Yeah. That's just about the only place where there's anythin' ta bump into," Rogue said, unbuckling her seatbelt. "Let's switch."

It was a tiny little shuttle and the copilot seat didn't really offer much in the way of... piloting.

Did that mean it was time to play the shuttle version of Twister? Because Kate knew enough to know you didn't just invade anyone's personal space whether they were Rogue or someone else. So she unclipped herself from the seat and held up a hand to suggest she was going to stand up, squeeze into the space behind the seats, and leave Rogue free to slide over at her leisure.

Well, that was handled pretty neatly. It sure was convenient to be around someone who knew not to get in her space without her having to express the dire necessity.

Rogue frowned in thought as she took the seat and neatly brought them in to dock.

Say something friendly, she prompted herself.

"How was it?"

"Is it a sign of bad character if I say it was really cool?"

Heh. "I ain't your judge an' jury." So who cared if it was a sign of bad character? Rogue herself had an unhealthy speed obsession.

Rogue unbuckled herself and punched in the appropriate code to open the shuttle doors. "Welcome ta the star station."

She fished her sunglasses from where they'd been sitting atop her head. The station was cycling towards night, but that didn't stop her from dropping the glasses down over her eyes. What! She looked cooler this way, and Kate was still riding the residual high of spaceflight.

"Wow, this is like -- real."

She grabbed the shuttle's doorway and hopped off-board.

Rogue raised an eyebrow at the sunglasses, but whatever. It was Kate's choice, and the other girl's enthusiasm was --- well, not infectious, but endearing.

"100 percent, so far as I've been able ta see," Rogue said, locking the shuttle behind her. "Now - Trophy Room, ya said?"

"Trophy Room," she confirmed.

And as she walked forward, she turned 'round. Really soaked it in alongside the understanding that this was space. Sort of. Space in a much different capacity to all the ships shuttles, even if it didn't really look like it. Space station, huh!

"I'll just hafta pop in for a moment and hustle Clint for a few credits and we'll be golden. Hopefully."

Clint, huh. Clint Barton? Well, no point in asking, Rogue supposed she'd find out soon enough.

"Sure," Rogue said. She paused and considered, "'course, if ya wanna hook up with someone from your world an' have them show ya the ropes, that's fine by me."

"God, no."

Kate gave Rogue an emphatic shake of her head. Although she appreciated what the other woman was suggesting -- and it was very thoughtful of her -- Kate wanted to make one thing perfectly clear:

"Mentor-guy or not, I don't need him to show me the ropes. You're probably, like, ten times as fun to hang out with. Anyway."

Clint could be depressing. And aside from grabbing some of those credits so she could properly reimburse Rogue, Kate Bishop wasn't interested in investigating just how depressing he was in a new venue.

"Okaaay," Rogue knew when not to poke at things with a ten foot pole. Of course, she usually ignored that knowledge, but she could recognize the situation. And so, in the interest of really not wanting to get involved in anyone else's drama after first meeting them, because Gawd help her if they thought the interference should be mutual, Rogue just brushed this aside as best she could. "No problem. I'll show ya where the shops anywhere close ta practical clothing are at. I don't think you'll really wanna buy the stuff with the neon glowy sticks attacked."

It just didn't seem like Kate's style, but what did she know?

"Yeah, no. Not unless our next stop is Ibiza."

Glow sticks belonged at raves. And, she supposed, in the hands of a few very particular costumed heroes. But she was more of a matte girl. Audrey Hepburn, but in purple. And she was also immensely grateful for Rogue's discretion. The whole thing with Clint wasn't half-so-terrible as might have been, but she wasn't about to air his dirty laundry as well as her own.

Rogue assumed 'Ibiza' was a post 2003 reference. In the meantime, she just started imparting what she deemed essential knowledge, "The station's divvied up into districts. There are a few maps posted 'bout the place, an' most of the shop owners are friendly enough if ya need direction. If ya treat it like ya treat walkin' 'round in the city, ya should be fine."

"Can't be much worse than Brooklyn, right?"

Said the Manhattanite. Hell, Kate has been known to champion Jersey over Brooklyn. But maybe that was only to needle Clint. Or maybe because when your last name is Bishop, you've had more than enough reason to spend time in some of Jersey's more affluent counties.

Rogue raised an eyebrow at her, her first thought with Brooklyn now always going to Jim. "I don't know. Can't say I spent much time in Brooklyn."

They passed a green alien with what looked like an assortment of tubesocks coming out of his (his?) head.

"Have a few folks around here who I know feel fondly 'bout the place, though."

"As boroughs go, she has a way of inspiring loyalty in her sons and daughters. But," Kate shrugged, "I'm more Manhattan."

She definitely stared at tubesocks-guy. She stared hard.

Well, at least those sunglasses were good for something - no one was able to tell that Kate was staring. "Well," Rogue remarked dryly. "There are a few differences."

"Yeah. Sights like these usually don't crop up on the streets back home until it's so early-hours that the raves are emptying out."

Aw, that's cute. "Just ya wait. There are literally little green men."

[ RECORD SCRATCH-- ]

Please don't be talking about the skrull.

[ she just assumes that any version of rogue must be familiar with that space threat. ]

Uh... I don't think so? I didn't ask what species they were. That'd be rude. [And even Rogue had lines, geeze.]

It's just -- alternate dimensions are troublesome enough, y'know? Without also having to contend with malicious shape-shifters.

Ugh. That is definitely true. [Making a face at that.] Only a few shapeshifters I know 'round here. An' none of them are green. An' all of them are fleeters. Flooters. Whatever they call us. I'm thinkin' of changin' it ta 'Drifters', myself. The heck is a 'flooter' anyway?

[What, it's not like she doesn't want to talk about shapeshifters. Except she doesn't want to talk about shapeshifters.]

Edited 2016-02-20 04:54 (UTC)

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