Eugene Woods (
survivalistcookbook) wrote in
driftfleet2016-08-06 11:52 am
Entry tags:
i - action/video - open
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?
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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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?
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[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.
no subject
[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 . . .
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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.]
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[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.
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[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.]
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[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.
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Okay, you've convinced me. Felix Gaeta. Nice to meet you.
Have you considered an angle?
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[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.
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[He's trying hard not to smile.]
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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.]
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...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.]
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[He's not exactly following. Does Eugene mean there might be people who would....what? Get too intense? Poison the food? What?]
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