driftfleet | i - action/video

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Who: Eugene Woods, back again!
Broadcast: yes
Action: SS Wonderduck
When: August 5th, evening

action

[It's like that moment when you walk through a door and forget what you were about to do. Except replace walk with 'teleport', and replace what you were about to do with

'what possible course of events could move you instantly from your bunk to the bridge of a completely unfamiliar ship'. Surrounded by confetti. Back in the standard jumper.

Oh, and minus both crutches and leg.

One undignified topple to the confetti-strewn ground later - one made infinitely more comical for the festive music playing, probably - Eugene has the opportunity to take stock of his situation. Definitely not the Vanquish. Or any other ship he's been on. Too lost and put-out to be afraid, he sits up, finds his communicator, and stares at it flatly.]

What the hell, guys.

[No response. He's not sure why he expected one. Stare still vaguely accusatory, he opens up the network, grabs a cup of pudding, and settles in to dig for some information himself.]

video

So . . . epic mystery nap, huh.

[Eugene's managed to get to the kitchen, but he hasn't moved much since then, scanning his communicator and continuing his long, slow descent down the rabbit hole of what the hell happened. It's been months since he had to play the new-kid-in-town role, and he can't say he's feeling any more fondly toward it now than he did the last time, although for completely different reasons. Last time it was loss, outrage, disbelief. This time, it's just untethered, pure disorientation.

At least with anger, it has a direction. This is just nothing, icy-black as the vacuum of space on the other side of the hull. Dozens on dozens of voices on the communicator, and still, in every second they're quiet he doesn't think he's ever felt more profoundly alone.

He's made himself marginally presentable, finger-combed back the curly chaos of his hair and straightened his shirt. Probably should get up and make something to eat, but the gnawing unease won't let him stand just yet. Standing means looking away from his communicator, and he's still holding out hope that if he studies it long enough, it'll spit up some answer, something to make him feel even a little less lost.]

Shame on Atroma for not even giving a guy a recap episode. Can anyone tell me if I missed anything big?

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[Well. That settles it. Unless Eugene hated him so much he was pretending not to know him (as far as Felix knows, that's absolutely not his style), it really is some alternate version. He looks away from the screen for a second, but that's the extent of him even possibly giving away his disappointment. It's fine, everything's fine.]

They've got to get their ratings somehow, I guess.

[A question occurs to him...and he kind of wants to keep talking.]

I haven't asked anyone yet: what does happen if you're under-performing? I can't say I've been doing much of anything either.

[Well, that's . . . weird. Subtly weird, but even over the video connection, Eugene can tell there was a hook in that exchange that didn't quite catch, something in his response that didn't land.

Not enough to call the guy on it. Just enough to put a furrow between Eugene's eyebrows before the next question comes and smooths it back out.]

Heck if I know. I kept my head down for the better part of a year, and if they did anything, it was just giving me a time out for a few months before pulling me back in. [If that was even related. He's not ready to connect the two just yet.] They must've drafted you into show business sometime since I left, right?

Yeah. Lucky me. I've been here about two months now, so if you're wondering, you've been out for at least that long. Probably.

[He adds the 'probably' because he's not supposed to know for certain, not without knowing Eugene's name.

Also, Felix has so many conditioned responses that he's going to have to try really hard to get over, gods. Eugene's disapproval and his urge to fix it is one of them. (Of course, it's all right to care a little that you've bothered someone, but it's probably not all right to come off as too invested in a person you're just meeting.) He's quick to pick up that look of confusion, but since it goes away pretty quickly too, he...doesn't address it either.

Felix is quicker to potentially string the two together, sorry Eugene. Correlation is not causation, sure. But...]

Well, that's good to know. If they have nothing to do with each other.

What, not planning on starting any reality show drama any time soon?

[Eugene gives a crooked smirk.]

I mean, you've got all the classics to choose from. Affair, social sabotage, ill-advised drunken rant with or without property damage . . .

[It's so easy to fall into this routine with him. And that's both comforting and strange. At least alternate-universe Eugene is still Eugene. Just a Eugene that came here, instead of ending up in Camp.

He crosses his arms over his chest, tilts his head a little to the side as if he's thinking.]

Well, those all sound like they'd be a lot of fun, but they're not really my thing.

I'm sure I'll figure out an angle eventually.

[He's taking this very seriously. Really.]

I don't know, you might have something going here with your 'mystery man in the captain's chair' thing.

[Just a little teasing, now. It is a decent angle on this guy. There's something in the way he carries himself, something in his affect, that makes it work. Even if Eugene can't quite put his finger on it, yet.]

I'm Eugene, by the way. Eugene Woods.

If I introduce myself, does that ruin the mystery angle?

[He's never actually thought of himself as that mysterious, to be perfectly honest. Although, if he thinks about it, 'mysterious' and 'closed off' could read the same way. And he's definitely more of the former, these days.

Anyway: Gentle teasing, meet more gentle teasing. Felix has a little bit of a smirk of his own, now.]

No, see, you've just got to follow basic narrative structure. You can answer as many questions as you want as long as you leave more of them hanging. So . . . Let's take what we have going on right here.

[He leans back in his own unimpressive little galley seat, gesturing as if the man's across from him rather than on the other side of a data connection.]

I don't know your name, sure. But I also don't know what ship you're on, what your job is there - heck, I don't know why of all the random lost-in-space messages firing back and forth on these things, you wandered into mine.

Trust me. Even if you introduce yourself, you still have that mystery angle pretty well locked down.

[Well, he's definitely not getting an (honest) answer on that last point, so Felix is completely set on the mystery front, right? Great.]

Okay, you've convinced me. Felix Gaeta. Nice to meet you.

Have you considered an angle?

Nice to meet you too.

[He settles back with the question, giving an exaggerated hmmmmm and rubbing his chin.]

My angle, that's a good one. I dunno, 'guy who cooks and bakes' is pretty steady, but it doesn't have a lot of pop, you know? Maybe I need a rival.

A rival chef? It could be a reality show within a reality show.

[He's trying hard not to smile.]

Little gimmicky, but it could work. The trick is just finding a worthy opponent.

[He's already holding up his hands in a surrender position.]

Well, definitely don't look at me.

Sounds like something you could put out a call about over the network.

[...You know if they were being remotely serious about this.]

Yeah, let me just put up a personals ad. 'Cook seeking cook, ideal rival should have baking experience, proficiency with harsh insults and/or tearful breakdowns.'

There you go. I don't see why someone wouldn't answer, you'd both be winning in the end.

...Maybe? Has the Fleet ever had any real villains? I wonder what happens if the audience doesn't like you.

[See, Felix still 100% (...95%?) does not believe this is actually a reality show, but looking a possible statistics is interesting anyway.

He really is tilting his head to the side in contemplation.]

Are you kidding? Villains get some of the best ratings. People want to see conflict. Personally, I think that anyone who's awful enough to turn off an audience is going to be taken down by people inside the fleet first.

Okay, you've got me there. And to be fair, I'm not sure exactly what you'd have to do in the context of a chef rivalry to be that bad anyway.

Yeah, you're really transgressing the bounds of cooking rivalry when you get to something that pulls a mob down on your head. Though on the other hand- I mean. You've seen some of the other folks around here.

"Some of the other folks"?

[He's not exactly following. Does Eugene mean there might be people who would....what? Get too intense? Poison the food? What?]

Come on, there's some tense drama on the network. People from pretty rough universes. Who knows what's within the bounds of acceptable kitchen competition out there in the multiverse?

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