zнaѕ (
theboogieman) wrote in
driftfleet2016-10-30 06:28 pm
Entry tags:
(no subject)
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.]
Broadcast: Probably not so much...
Action: You betcha.
When: Barely forward-dated to Halloween!
---
[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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so... by that vein of thinking, it's not hard to overlook a petty grudge match. for tonight, at least. he raises his glass a little, looking almost human as he almost smiles.]
Thanks. ...S'nice of you to be here.
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Well... [He could say Sye dragged him here, but it's not all true. He didn't want to actually be in a fight with someone. Back then he'd been angry and hurt and lost. Now, he was... really happy. And a little less stupid.]
I respect you, y'know, [he says seriously.] You and your... face.
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the mature, cool-guy thing to do would be to gracefully accept the compliment, or nonchalantly ask him what he means--but Zhas is about three drinks past being nonchalant about anything, and stares openly at Arthur instead.]
Really...? [he's just. trying to wrap his head around it. he doesn't expect respect from anyone. he's barely ever gotten it. this is weird.]
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Yes. You can hold your own in a fight, Coil looks up to you like... like crazy. You're tough, but not ridiculous - [He pronounces it like 'ridicuhlous', frowns, and then tries again.] - ridiculous. And... [He waves a hand in Syeira's direction, then gets distracted by looking at her.] ...and she adores you, y'know.
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She's... [and, well, he can't help but look over at Syeira too, and he ends up shaking his head.] Nah, you're... I mean...
[oh my god this is so hard. how do people deal with compliments all the time??]
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[He makes a thoughtful hum about that.] I never really apologized. For taking... [His eyes are taken off him, watching Syeira again instead.] ...taking that day out on you. So I'm sorry.
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No, man, it's... [his gravelly monotone (plus a little slurring) makes this tough to parse out, but he seems genuinely sympathetic.] We were all angry, okay. I get it.
[pat. pat.] We're just really lucky she's back.
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We are. Really lucky.
[He glances back over at him, fingers playing with the edge of his glass.] So... you don't mind... Syeira and me?
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Ugh.
[...but that's pretty much what Coil said, too, so maybe a fear of cooties runs in the metaphorical family.]
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All right, all right. I won't go on. But I'm glad you're not murderous over it. And maybe... you and I can stop warring with each other.
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[oh, good, he's still prone to distressing comments. this time, his tipsy slurring (and the fact that he has yet to pick his head up off the table) ruins most of the effect.
but that said, he finally drags his face back up, fixing Arthur with a flat look.]
You're kind of a pansy to fight with anyway.
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The second, though- it hits an angry chord in him. He narrows his eyes, his mouth turning ugly.]
I don't care if you're joking or not; you can stop being a fucking douche now.
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That's funny. S'fine. [he finally moves his hand, but it's just so that he can knock back the rest of of his drink. as if he needs any more alcohol.] ...You got a lot of tenacity, it's good.
[everyone be surprised that (A) Zhas knows what "tenacity" means and (B) that he pronounced it without butchering it.]
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S'not funny. 'M more than that, asshole.
[But it's more mumble-y and has less bite than it did a second ago.]
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[honestly, Zhas is having a great time with this. he loves watching Arthur suffer a little, but he also loves hearing what people are made of. "a man's character," he's heard it called.
he waves him forward a little, as if to be inviting.]
What else, then?
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I... I'm a good shot. I can hit a moving target from a great distance away. 'M the best at research. I've got... I have the steadiest mind in the dream sharing business. 'M... smart. Got an architecture degree while in the army, and I know a lotta languages.
[He rubs his eyes like a sleepy and grumpy child.] I might be a bit too drunk to remember all my fine points.
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it's a good list. there's a lot he didn't know, and wouldn't have guessed. at the very least, he's explaining to Zhas why having a positive relationship makes good strategic sense, but... if Zhas likes anything about Arthur, it's his confidence. the vampire hunter built up his entire persona on confidence before he even had any skill to back it up, so it's kind of a sticking point.
...so he lets Arthur rub his eyes for another moment or two before he asks:] Cuantos idiomas?
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[He puts his chin in his hand and his elbow on the table.]
¿Y tu?
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English, Spanish, French... Russian, German... [and then he wobbles his hand.] Arabic, sort of. Vietnamese, a little.
[he shakes his head a little, eyes now back down on his empty glass.] Enough to get around. Not writing any books or anything.
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You travel a lot?
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[he shrugs a little, but doesn't seem to mind. he may be a big lughead with a limited vocabulary... but when he puts his mind to it, apparently that vocabulary does him a lot of good.]
Home was in Ireland. S'almost another language.
[oh, he's... now looking through the bottom of his empty glass like a spyglass.]