driftfleet | Video/action

Entry tags:

Video/action

Who: Sascha, Nami AND YOU
Broadcast: Video
Action: Bloodsport
When: 4AM. We're not sorry.

[ When the camera feed switches on inside the Bloodsport, it's late. Late-late, as much as it ever becomes when one travels the universe. But in this particular case even the lights of the hall it chooses to focus in on have been dimmed to the point of being practically non-functional. Almost everything is obscured by shadow...including the silhouette which blurs across the screen for just an instant.

The next time the feed tracks movement, it's in front of the ship's captain quarters. The silhouette appears again, flattened near the wall as they slowly creep their way closer. A single hands slides up and opens the hatch to that the door slides open without a sounds--and for some reason? The motion-sensor on the lights doesn't even go off to adjust the brightness. It stays dark, and without a word the shadowed figure slips inside, creeps slowly towards the sleeping figure on the bed that some might recognize as a slumbering Nami.

They sneak in close, lift a hand and reach it out towards her...

And instead of wrapping around her neck? It plants itself on the bed, right before that shadowy figure flops right down beside her and huddles close. For a cuddle. ]

[After a moment or two, Nami's eyes slide sleepily open, confused at first, and then a hand reaches hurriedly out for the desktop lantern, throwing her invader into full relief: one (1) Sascha, late night travelling cuddlebug.

There's a lot of supremely intense staring. Some tallying of the situation. She's naked. He's wrapped around her like a limpet. And then she smiles. Sweetly.]

Sascha.

[He blinks at her in surprise, then perks up happily.] Yes~~?

Ahaha!~ [Cheerful as always as she throws the covers back.] Here I was sure we'd discussed the concept--

[Don't ask how she managed to kick him in the face but it's a surefire winner, sending her invader crashing to the floor--]

-- of PERSONAL SPACE!!

[ It's possibly the most glorious sight Sascha as ever seen, since apparently Nami sleeps in the nude--for the whole half-second he gets to enjoy it (lucky you guys, huh??) anyway. Then he's left scrambling to get his feet under him again and push himself up, because Nami's stalking towards him already as he looks up with wide eyes and babbles; ]

I was j--just cuddling, no biting...! [ AS IF THAT'S THE ISSUE HERE. Nami clearly doesn't think so, because in half a second here? He's going to be fleeing for his life with her hot on his heels.

Have fun Bloodsport. It's also like four in the gd morning. ]

[ ooc; blue is Sascha, Green is Nami! Feel free to find either or both at any point after the broadcast on the Bloodsport, or just call...them..... ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[...the communicator is on the communicator is ON

Oh Sascha, we're terribly sorry. I may have to break more goddamned bones now. But at least for poor Obi Wan's non-virginal Jedi eyes Nami does snatch the sheet up from the bed before she delivers a kick that would make Sanji proud, punting Sascha right back out of her room.

Then she stalks out after him. We'll be back after these extremely violent-sounding messages.]

[ That's some kick.

. . . . Obi-Wan wonders if he should check on the Bloodsport. Just in case. ]

[ It is probably the most powerful kick Sascha has every experienced, and he is not at all prepared for it. In fact it takes a moment for him to actually pick himself up after, and by then he's already sporting a bloody nose and wide eyes.

YEP, HE SURE IS SCUTTLING BACKWARDS FAST. ]

I'b--I'b sorry! [ Hand over his nose, trying to stop the flow.

SORRY DADBOYFRIENDGUY ]

[ Sorry Sascha, he's probably going to keep his eyes closed. Partially, anyway. ]

Do you need medical attention?

[Probably just as well given Nami will pause long enough to pick up the comm, smiling cheerfully. She's not psychotic at all, promise.]

We have a doctor! But thanks anyway.

[ He'll take that as a good sign. ]

I apologize for his conduct. It is . . . a steep learning curve.

[She doesn't come back to respond until probably shortly after Sascha does, having now slipped a T-shirt on so she's semi-decent.]

No apology necessary. [She sounds much calmer now. Possibly because Sascha bore the brunt of her temper in spades.] It's not your fault. Though I'm guessing you're one of the few trying to teach him otherwise.