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(no subject)

Who: Crew of the First Breath
Broadcast: N/A
Action: SS First Breath
When: February 3 and Onward!

The day that Tyrion played with the device

Anyone who comes to the First Breath that day will note that everyone on the crew is particularly ... elevated that day. In fact, it seems that they are in the middle of some sort of wild party. All kinds of things are happening - drinking, dancing, fighting, and lots and lots of emotional outbursts.

The rest of the days

Well, it's usually NOT crazy, and the ship was hardy damaged at all so it is already up to peak performance. Come and stop by for a visit!

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She laughs, "You and your wine. Am I going to have to regulate your use of it?" She quirks an eyebrow at him, but she's not exactly serious.

"Absolutely not. I only use more of it if I need more if it, after all." He smirks back, before he sighs quietly, "Beyond that ... watering down wine allows me to drink the same amount but with half of the drunken idiocy."

"Such as, almost venting us into space, instead of actually venting us into space?"

She's grinning, Tyrion, don't worry.

"... Yes precisely." He tapped his finger against his nose, giving her a wink. "We were almost dead, but now we are actually alive. So that's good, is it not?"

"It is good. I'm not a big fan of the alternative." She smiles at him, and then sighs,

"You're in the clear, Tyrion. No harm done."

"Good. Good..."

He breathed in, then out slowly, before he gave her a sideways glance.

"How are you doing, Furiosa? You seem a little preoccupied."

She offers him a grimace and rolls her head away.

"Recovering. Suffered a little bit of a setback, in terms of my concussion. This place really has made me soft."

"I saw you take down a half a dozen raiders all on your own. Soft is never a word I would apply to you, Furiosa." He frowns, "Still, is it bothering you?"

He's got a point. She wasn't soft so much as they got lucky. She pulls in a breath and sighs.

"Yeah. Constant headaches, to varying degrees. Trouble concentrating. I get ... distracted by things. Nightmares, on top of it, worse than usual."

He frowned deeply, leaning over to peer into her eyes.

"Have you spoken to one of the doctors about your situation?"

"No more than I have to." Tyrion why you looking at her like that? She leans back slightly. "Don't have the greatest history with doctors."

"That's understandable - the fear. Your dying is not, alas, not so understandable." He stated simply, concern flashing across his gaze.

She watches him, quiet for a moment, and glances away before chuckling slightly, "You'd think I'd be used to people caring, at this point." She pulls in a breath and sighs, though. "If it continues ... I'll meet with a doctor."

He looks at her for a moment, before a wry little smile cross his lips, "Yes, you think you would." A brief nod, and a sincere, "Thank you, Captain."

She gives him a shrug. "We'll see." She still preferred to deal with things her own way when possible, but of course she knew the doctors here weren't quite like the organ mechanics of the Wastelands. "You turned out alright."

He arched an eyebrow at her, before he snorted softly, "Compared to some, I suppose I d1d."

Edited 2017-03-01 21:55 (UTC)

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