Try Catching Flootemon with your Communicator!

[spaceshipit]

Who: Everyone!
Broadcast: If you want!
Action: July Planet!
When: The month of July!

[This is another planet mingle since the first one has nearly hit captcha! Feel free to continue threads or start brand new ones!]

July Planet Information

First Mingle Post

Comments

[dancingmd]

[Beverly, in turn, is relieved that Max is not pulling away from her.]

It's a good name.

[Oh so gently, she runs a hand over Rock's leg to see how it's holding up.]

Seems like he's doing well.

[theroadwarrior]

[He nods, though he's studying Rock with a critical eye.]

Limps a little.

[just like his hopeless master]

But he eats well, sleeps well.

[dancingmd]

And he's playing too.

[She beams up at Max.]

Always a good sign.

[theroadwarrior]

For such an old man.

[Ha. He's at least relaxed, even if he doesn't share her enthusiasm.

After a pause, he motions to the small campfire where food cooks.]

Are you, hn. Hungry?

[You'd better appreciate this, this is a big deal from a Wastelander, okay!]

[dancingmd]

[She does appreciate it, very much. She pulls up a uh... log and settles next to the campfire.]

I could eat.

[theroadwarrior]

[Ha. He quirks a brow before plucking one of the small rabbit-like meals from the fire, staked on a thin, short spear. Simple method, but he's more used to putting any animals caught on metal rods; branches don't particularly exist in his world.

Then again, neither do most animals, but whatever.]

It's hot.

[... His lip twitches slightly. Humored, it seems.]

You don't... look like a wilderness sort.

[dancingmd]

[Beverly raises an eyebrow before taking the spear from him.]

What was the old saying? Don't judge a book by its cover?

[theroadwarrior]

Hrn.

This musty old book's still a musty old book on the inside.

[Wow the self-deprecating sass.]

[dancingmd]

Good thing I like musty old books then, isn't it?

[She grins at him before taking a bite of meat.]

[theroadwarrior]

[He HUFFS. Which is just him playing hard to get as always; he's just so modest about people actually liking him even remotely.]

We don't really have any books back home. Not anymore.

Not without dedicating your life to it. People put words on their skin.

[... Like how he has words on his skin.

But he doesn't really make such a connection.]

[dancingmd]

[Not that she'll tell him this, but the huff is cute and does nothing to deter her. Teasing grumps is her favorite. Ask your future self Picard.]

Part of human nature, I think, to want to pass down stories, however we can.

[theroadwarrior]

[He hums.]

Hard to think about the past, for some people.

Passing down stories can be — bittersweet.

[dancingmd]

[She searches his face quietly for a moment, thinking about him as a young man, a young father with a chubby happy baby, a family that she has the feeling is long gone now. It's impossible not to conflate that image with her own memories of Jack with Wesley. When she does speak, her voice is soft.]

I know. But it's important to remember.

[theroadwarrior]

[He thins his lips - perhaps knowing exactly what she's alluding to.

But he doesn't take the bait, if it's even bait.

He just... stokes the fire for a moment, silent.]

Should finish the food before it gets cold. Need more firewood.

[dancingmd]

[It's not bait and it's nothing she, as a parent herself, is going to push. To be honest, this has already been more than she expected. So she simply nods and takes another bite of meat, thoughtfully chewing for a minute.]

I'll help you get some.