let's get together yeah yeah yeah

[delincuente]

Who: The crew of the SS Paisley + visitors
Broadcast: n/a
Action: On the Paisley
When: Through the end of the planet

[So trees aren't your thing and you wanna be a recluse while we're on this lovely planet? Come hang out on the ship with the rest of these weird kids.]

Comments

B

[helladoomed]

[Chloe is humming softly to herself as she strolls up the docks to the Paisley, a half-finished cigarette hanging out of the side of her mouth and her eyes on the sky. Man. Another planet. And not a shitball either. She'd stop being amazed by this eventually.]

[Still, she had other things to do right now, which was why she was ducking into the Paisley itself, a little bag swinging from her right hand.]

Alex, hey! [Just who she was looking for.] So I hear you're a real booze-buyin' adult now, huh?

[It was either that, or an 'extra legal' joke...]

[delincuente]

[Alex throws a sidelong glance at her, and then holds out her hand for a fist-bump. She scoots over a little bit, making room on the step.]

Doesn't really mean anything with no drinking age. But yeah, pretty much.

[helladoomed]

Never much paid attention to that age stuff myself, either, been buyin' beer since I was sixteen. But hey, it's the principle of the thing!

[FistBUMP and then she'll plop down, holding out the bag for Alex to take.]

Anyway, Happy Birthday. You know this means you're older than me, right?

[Also she didn't put her cigarette out when she came inside oops.]

[delincuente]

[Alex takes the bag, but immediately makes a face at the comment.]

Yeah, and I still look like Hannah Montana.

[helladoomed]

[Inside is a bag of pot. She did help set things up, after all!]

Eh. There are worse things than looking like a teenager your whole life. [A beat.]

Probably, anyway.

[delincuente]

[As soon as she opens it, she lets out a little hoot of laughter, and slips it into her pocket.]

Thanks, girl. That's almost as good as the Teen Talk Barbie I asked for.

[helladoomed]

Just don't let Max know where you got it.

[Chloe snickers.]

Considering how touchy-feely this planet is, they probably have some weird alien teen talk barbie here if you really want one.

[delincuente]

Nah. It would probably, like, broadcast my deepest, darkest secrets, or something.

[Not that she has any. Alex has become dreadfully open-book lately.]

[helladoomed]

Like you have those. [Chloe just smirked.]

Unless you're way better at keeping them than you let on, you seem pretty...harmless.

[Poor alex.]

[delincuente]

[With a little snort of laughter, she takes a swig of beer, and leans back on her elbows.]

Did I ever tell you I got murdered?

[helladoomed]

...No. [Her eyes narrowed.] You look pretty not-dead.

[delincuente]

The wonders of modern, magical healing, huh?

[helladoomed]

Most people don't get better from murder, though.

[delincuente]

It's the place I used to live, before the Fleet. Paradisa. They's stick your body in some magic fridge, and you'd wake up a couple weeks later with a cool new battle scar.

[She pulls down the collar of her shirt to give Chloe a better look at the line of deep scar tissue leading straight down the center of her chest.]

[helladoomed]

...Huh.

[Chloe considers the scar for a moment, leaning in, then shakes her head.]

That's fuckin' weird, girl.