Nami (
namisan) wrote in
driftfleet2017-03-12 02:17 pm
Entry tags:
Urge to Kill... Rising...
Who: Nami
Broadcast: Fleetwide
Action: Bloodsport. Or the planet's surface, I guess.
When: Now
[So Nami had been intending to grow her hair out again, but recent events have proven it's gonna take a little more time. As of a week ago, her hair has been carved back to its short status for reasons she hasn't bothered sharing, and she's been in a terrible mood for the entire time. Which has much less to do with her hair and more to do with her two temple runs and the treasure (or not) that she found.
On the other hand, this sponsor delivery she's just found in the Bloodsport's cargo bay really just rounds off the feeling she's being picked on.]
...cute. At best, you're late.
[Sup, Flooters. This is Nami kicking a crate-sized box over, sending glittery, silky hair ties and ribbons and combs and assorted accessories bouncing across the floor, her voice that cheerful sickly sweet that will rise the hackles of anyone who's spent too much time in close proximity with her.]
Free to a good home! It's in the Bloodsport cargo bay, come and take it by all means. [Be warned, though, this pile of hair accessories are the kind you'd expect to find in a kiddie aisle that's been painted obnoxiously pink.] I'm not gonna be here. I hope they're all gone by the time I come back.
On that note, I'm going up to the surface. I doubt anyone else is heading up that way, but I'm going up to test some stuff and that'll make the area hazardous to suddenly turn up in, so. Fair warning, just avoid the area around these coordinates. [Coordinates given. It's a freaking planet of water, there's plenty of surface area, but her luck is inconvenient at best so let's avoid anyone haplessly surfacing in the middle of a lightning field, yeah?]
I hope everyone else is having a better week.
[Now excuse her, she's off to vent her frustration with a waver and a glorified storm stick.]
Broadcast: Fleetwide
Action: Bloodsport. Or the planet's surface, I guess.
When: Now
[So Nami had been intending to grow her hair out again, but recent events have proven it's gonna take a little more time. As of a week ago, her hair has been carved back to its short status for reasons she hasn't bothered sharing, and she's been in a terrible mood for the entire time. Which has much less to do with her hair and more to do with her two temple runs and the treasure (or not) that she found.
On the other hand, this sponsor delivery she's just found in the Bloodsport's cargo bay really just rounds off the feeling she's being picked on.]
...cute. At best, you're late.
[Sup, Flooters. This is Nami kicking a crate-sized box over, sending glittery, silky hair ties and ribbons and combs and assorted accessories bouncing across the floor, her voice that cheerful sickly sweet that will rise the hackles of anyone who's spent too much time in close proximity with her.]
Free to a good home! It's in the Bloodsport cargo bay, come and take it by all means. [Be warned, though, this pile of hair accessories are the kind you'd expect to find in a kiddie aisle that's been painted obnoxiously pink.] I'm not gonna be here. I hope they're all gone by the time I come back.
On that note, I'm going up to the surface. I doubt anyone else is heading up that way, but I'm going up to test some stuff and that'll make the area hazardous to suddenly turn up in, so. Fair warning, just avoid the area around these coordinates. [Coordinates given. It's a freaking planet of water, there's plenty of surface area, but her luck is inconvenient at best so let's avoid anyone haplessly surfacing in the middle of a lightning field, yeah?]
I hope everyone else is having a better week.
[Now excuse her, she's off to vent her frustration with a waver and a glorified storm stick.]

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[No really, he doesn't get it.]
Voice
[BEWARE. She's just grumpy enough she may try enforcing this.]
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[Danger Will Robinson]
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Besides, no one said the girls had to wear saloon dresses. [He admits he likes the dresses, but if it means avoiding some hideous uniform it's a sacrifice he's willing to make.]
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[No he didn't.]
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And two-- you seriously think I wouldn't get a crowd if they knew you were serving lunch in a saloon dress? Because I'd take you up on that wager.
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[Dignity. Vash likes to pretend he sometimes has it. Besides, he knows a crowd would show up. Never take an unwinnable bet.]
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[On the plus side, she's now switched into full trolling mode and feels much less angry. GJ, Vash.]
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No, but I don't think I need to prove it either.
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But hypothetically if I wasn't doing so well. How much would we be talking? [More curious what his embarrassment is worth. He really doesn't need the money.]
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Ahh-hahaha, might want to rethink that. I don't exactly have the right body type for skimp--er--dresses that show a lot of skin. You'd likely lose more business then you'd gain.
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[She'll only push a joke so far.]
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