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Who: The fine crew of the SS Red Fish!
Broadcast: Probably not so much...
Action: You betcha.
When: Barely forward-dated to Halloween!

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[welcome to the Red Fish, the ship that always looks ready for Halloween anyway.

while today is a popular Earth holiday, it's also Zhas' birthday, and he has probably mentioned it to everyone on board in an unsubtle way over the last few weeks. there are a hilarious number of jack-o-lanterns around the ship, showing off skull-face carvings of... varying quality. thanks, Syeira!

what's in store on this spooky night? HILARITY, probably.]

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[ It's not the reaction he expects, in all honesty, but he's kind of relieved. Usually people don't take him as seriously as they would someone about a foot taller and ten years older.

Oh. Oh. This guy's one of the captains.. ]

No, I'm not visiting. I'm your maintenance guy, I guess.

[yeah, well. he was fifteen once.

so he shifts to hold out one of his hands, presumably for a handshake.]

Wh... [hrm, that noise goes nowhere. he tries again.] Welcome aboard. This thing's... stupid, but the crew's good.

Thanks.

[ Carl takes his hand and gives it a shake, offering a grateful nod. ]

What's stupid? The ship or the situation? I haven't met all of the crew, yet.

[ Not that he's been in a hurry, either.. ]

Situation.

[manly handshake accomplished, he gives a very vague wave of his hand before shoving it back in his pocket.]

Being... kidnapped for a TV show. In space. ... It's stupid.

[right...? help him out, here.]

Yeah, it's... weird. Didn't appreciate bein' kidnapped, but who does?

[ Carl takes his hand back, crossing his arms. ]

Space is kinda crazy..

[he chuckles, in the most minimal, breathy sense of the word. he almost smirks at the comment.]

Kinda. But it gets... better.

[he tilts his head again, glancing up at that prominent hat. reminds him of a game he used to play with his brothers, back when they were alive. cowboys and indians.]

What'd you do before?

I heard we go to planets and stuff, but just being in space doesn't feel real.

[ He's itching to actually get to a planet and explore. He can't even begin to imagine how different things will be. Carl considers the question and offers no more than a shrug. ]

Survive.

[the answer is fair enough. combined with his earlier demeanor, this kid's saying a lot with very little. he may ask questions another time, but not today. today, he shrugs his shoulders in return.]

Us too.

[between a vampire hunter, a ghost hunter, a god-spawn, a giant robot pilot, and a necromancer... there's got to be a spot for whatever this guy is somewhere.]

If you want to fly out sometime, I can take you. [he shrugs again.] I'm a pilot.

[ The shrug is more than enough for Carl to relax a bit more. He doesn't know how up to answering questions he is at the moment. It's a relief to know that he's among like-company, though how they're all connected isn't clear yet. ]

Really? [ Hey, a pilot, that's handy. ] Cool.

Kinda cool.

[kind of. he has a love-hate relationship with the void of space, and with the information that's been given to him by their mysterious overlords. it's complicated. and today he doesn't like complicated things.]

And you're welcome to anything around... [though, after a moment of thought, he looks back over his shoulder.] 'Cept the lab. Coil'll stalk you through the vents, or something.

Guessing you've been here long enough for it not to be as exciting?

[ It's still pretty exciting, all things considered. Even if the world decides to un-fuck itself, it's not like there's a zombie space program. The idea that someone just stuffed all this new information in their heads is kinda freaky, because what the hell else can they do? ]

Okay, no poking around the lab. Got it. [ He pulls a face, though. ] The vents? People can fit in there?

[ Not that he's really tried, because small spaces... yeesh. ]

Nah. Just think it's weird, mostly.

['weird' is a nice, good, neutral word for it. he looks back over at Carl, though he points up at where he knows an internal vent is hidden up in the ceiling.]

Some of 'em. Not me, obviously-- [he's too tall.] But there's room for smaller folk. You'd fit... Dunno about your hat.

Weird is a pretty good word for it, yeah.

[ Much like this conversation, but hey, space. Carl spares a glance upward toward where Zhas is pointing. How do the vents even hold somebody? Space vermin are light enough, but he remains unsure..

Though he still maintains the thought that someone's going to stalk him through the vents if he goes where he's not supposed to. ]

I'll leave the vents to whatever's crawling in there.

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