driftfleet | groove slam work it back

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groove slam work it back

Who: the good and merry folk of the S. S. Starstruck
Broadcast: it's a mystery! you decide!
Action: S. S. Starstruck
When: until we make a new one

[Wow! Look at that! This ship sucks! Discontent is abundant! No one likes each other! Everyone's grumpy! I'm using too many exclamation points! Looks like it's just the first of many exciting episodes aboard the S.S. Starstruck*.]

*property possibly inherited from lady gaga

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[ While you're settling in, do keep an eye out for a tiny person, who might be climbing the walls (literally), poking her head out of vents, dragging objects across the floor (she is as strong as a human, even if she is tiny), or staring at the disproportionately sized toilets, protein cube machines, and control panels.

This all is very annoying. ]

[He spots her from the corner of his eye as she clambers up a wall. At first, he thinks he's imagining it. Putting a face on a strange space bug or something of the sort but upon closer inspection he sees the truth.]

A person. [He nearly gasps out the word, teetering precariously the chair he pulled up to get a better look at her.] So small. How delightful! [Face lighting up, he leans back and nearly falls but manages to right himself just in time for another question.] Can you speak? Understand me?

general

[Mattias tries to keep to himself, he really does. He's glued to his station most of the time, decrypting a lot of things he really shouldn't be and surrounded by books he really shouldn't have taken from a certain intellectual moon. Still, there are times when a man's mind wanders and his feet can only follow. In those periods, expect him to be wandering the ship, poking around and being rather fascinated by, well, everything. Including the toilet. And showers! Advanced plumbing is such a marvelous invention.]

mattias no cw: neckstabbing

[There is one particular day, however, that he gets it in his head to be profoundly stupid. He's heard the warnings, watched the broadcasts, and yet still nicks a knife from the kitchen to do a bit of, uh. Impromptu surgery. Or, at least, an attempt at it. The truth is he doesn't get very far and so you may hear some rather pained hisses and groans. Maybe some shouts. He's in pain. Tremendous amounts that have left him panting on the floor, clutching the side of his bleeding neck. Still, should anyone pass by, he'll look up and smile. Perhaps wave a dismissive hand.]

Ah, hello. Just-doing a bit of experimenting. Sorry for the noise. Do you think you could get me some needle and thread? Oh gods. This really is unpleasant.

[ She gives him a sour look, as though contemplating whether or not to reach out and give him a good shove, one that would send him all the way to the floor. She pulls herself up onto - a curve of pipe, a switch, somewhere she can support herself. ]

That depends. Do you ever say anything interesting?

That's a bit rude.

[But he seems more put-out than anything. A sour attitude is justified if his reaction was a common one. For now, he'll give her the benefit of the doubt, jumping off his chair only to pull it closer.] I'd like to think I say something of interest now and again. Are you part of the crew?

I am your captain.

[ She's got enough balance to spare that she can cross her arms, looking quite fierce.

But, still, she hasn't seen many people in person in the last five years. She's interested, but she tries to hide that little spark of curiosity. ]

ELN-1470.

Well, I suppose I can't argue with that.

[With a grunt, he hoists himself back onto his chair, leaning against the section of wall closest to her. It's not very comfortable but comfort becomes secondary when small people are involved.] ELN-1470. That's an odd name, if you don't mind me saying. Do the numbers hold any significance? Is that rude of me to ask?

[ He's being friendly.

Why is he being friendly.

This leaves her somewhat disoriented, and she slips, catching herself on a little screwhead in the wall. Not in any danger, just a little bit ruffled. ]

I was ELN number one thousand, four hundred and seventy to be decanted in the manufacturing process of SISC0117.

[ Is it rude? No one's ever asked her that question before. They all just knew. ]

Oh-[He jumps a bit as she slips, reaching forward with open palms in a hope to catch her. When it's clear she doesn't need it, his hands retreat, if somewhat sheepishly.]

Manufactured? So you were made? That's-that's fantastic! And for there to be one thousand, four hundred and seventy more of you? Amazing. Although-I suppose it might not be for you. Individualism and all of that. If you value that at all. [He laughs, lightly.] Different cultures value different things.

[There's an awkward chuckle at the end of that sentence followed by a pause. A momentary realization. Smoothing his hair back, he smacks his head lightly.] Oh, where is my head? You gave me your name and I forgot to tell you my own. I'm Mattias. Mattias Larnaca. I'd shake your hand but... [Well.]

[ ELN tenses, gripping the wall, and leaps off of it, jumping like a spider and catching herself on his shirt. She gives him a poke in the throat. ]

I'm not a doll. I don't need catching.

[ Climbs herself up onto his shoulder. ]

And all genetic sequences were appropriately randomized beyond baseline. There are no ELNs exactly like me.

What is your function on the ship?

Right, of course, I didn't mean to imply-[He winces slightly at that poke to the throat.] I'm sure you're quite competent.

[Unfortunately, the rest of what she says goes right over his head. But that's fine. He files the words away for later. Things to research.] I'm the communications officer. Encryptions, decryptions, assorted messages, diplomacy.

[Although... he only just learned what most of those things are.] It's not something I have much experience in.

Well, I've never been a medic.

[ A somewhat unusual admittance of a lack of expertise. ]

But my cortical stack has been replaced before.

[ Not that this is quite the same thing. ]

What do you have experience in?

[His smile falters.] Nothing that's... applicable here. Although, [He taps the side of his head against the wall.] I guess you could call me a mapmaker. Or a researcher. Maybe even a detective.

[He laughs.] But none of those have much use here.

[ She sits on his shoulder. Perches, more like, as though she's ready to jump off again. ]

You don't have to stand so peculiarly. I'm perfectly secure.

Not that your clothes couldn't use a few more handholds.

I'm sure you'll find a way to be useful.

[He chuckles.]

Believe it or not, I find this way of standing comfortable. Although it'd be better on the ground. Do you mind? [Too bad, he's doing it anyway. Though he's careful to move steadily.]

And should I take that as an order? The handholds, not my usefulness. That, I expect, will grow in time.

[ There's a novelty in that - an order. She can give orders! ]

Yes. Make it an order.

[He laughs.]

As you wish, Captain. Although, I must say I'm fairly ignorant on how to make them better. Do you have any pointers?

Anything I can grip.

If they were going to make me captain, they could have made the ship a bit easier to access.

[ Of all the things Aaron expects to come across on this motley little ship full of annoying people, this... this is not one of those things. The shouting and the pained noises and such have him teleporting in like someone suddenly turned his opacity back up to 100% from zero and there's just a moment of shocked stillness.

Then he kneels down and tries turning Mattias around to see the wound for himself. ]

What the fuck just happened?! What did you do?

The augment. Ah-please. No. Don't touch it. It doesn't like to be touched. I'm-finding that out.

[He laughs but it's breathless, his hand trembling as he tries to bat him away. An obnoxious side effect. The pain itself was dulled by his own training but the emotional impact was something he hadn't expected. Not to this degree. It was something that needed to be prepared for and he had severely underestimated.] Please. Just... get me needle.

Simple enough.

[He laughs again, settling down in the seat.] That still might be something we could fix, though. Perhaps we could employ someone to retrofit the ship to your needs? You'd have to be patient, though.

[ Aaron backs off for a moment, eyes wide before he disappears again. He comes back relatively quickly with an entire first aid kit. Where did it come from? Probably better not to ask. He starts to rifle through it for what looks like sharp implements paired with thread and pulls it out. ]

This is going to help, right?

Do I seem impatient? I'm not impatient.

You seem like a woman who values efficiency and expediency.

Oh. Yes. I am that.

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groove slam work it back

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mattias why

because i wanted to is a good reason right

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to anybody else, no. to aaron? probably

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