driftfleet | Happy St George's Day!

Who: Arthur and you
Broadcast: Video
Action: Huntress
When: April 23rd!

Action
[Arthur didn't actually remember his actual birthday, and he'd certainly never mentioned his unofficial one to anyone in the fleet, yet somehow, on the one day he'd stopped back on the Huntress to water his plants, there was a large package for him in the cargo bay. A crate with his own flag splashed over the top and 'Happy Birthday' scrawled over it in bad handwriting.]

How did they- I'm not opening this here.

Video
[Shortly after dragging the crate back to his room, his device has switched on while he pries the box open, the lid all but jumping up as the contents absolutely jammed inside... puffed up. Arthur narrowed his eyes and peered in, staring at the contents.

Stuffed animals. Almost half a dozen varieties of stuffed animals. And all of them looking very, very British.]

Just what am I supposed to do with these?

[Picking one up, he finally notices the comm is on and gives it an exasperated look.]

Alright, who told them?

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Oh, that one has a very nice hat.

Who told who what?

[Keith came past the cargo bay as Arthur was walking out. With a large crate. Wrapped in a British flag.

Ooookay.

After seeing Shiro get a crate full of plushie lions, he wasn't as shocked about the flag as he could have been, but it was still kind of weird.]

Sponsor drop?

Well it's a holiday today where I'm from. Not a very big one though.

[Tries to subtly put one of the bigger bears in front of the 'happy birthday' message.]

And depending on which one you're looking at, it's either a constable or a Queen's guard bear. [Small smile.] Since I doubt you're talking about Paddington in the rain cap.

[Well hopefully plushies don't become too common as deliveries. Arthur paused in his dragging, letting out a small huff.]

Seems like it. It's my first one so far.

Oh.

[Keith looked surprised.]

Uh... how long have you been here that you haven't gotten one before?

[The new pilot was curious how long it might be until he gets his own drop.]

[He has to think about that for a moment.]

Late December? Well, December here. It wasn't back home.

Anyway, I doubt whoever their audience is supposed to be is that interested in a grumpy old man, so I'm not that surprised.

Isn't there a thing with reality shows where they vote you off or something? If you're still here, then enough people must like you, right?

[For all Keith knew of reality shows anyway. He actually didn't even have a TV back home anymore, so he hadn't watched anything in a long time.]

Oh... hunh, makes me wonder why they sent you a bunch of stuffed toys to celebrate, then.

[He smiles back.]

I like the one in the raincoat, but yes, my eye was on the one with the fuzzy black hat. I've never seen anything quite like it.

If I thought that were the case, I'd go sit in my room until they give me the order to pack up and go home.

[And wouldn't that just be lovely?]

Ah, the guard then. The real uniform's worn by the guards of Buckingham Palace. The tourists love them. Always trying to make them break stance and move.

That's if they send you home. They might just send you somewhere else.

[Keith shrugged.]

Have they said what happens to people that don't get good ratings?

Oh! I've never heard of that place before, but I'm not from the same version of Earth a lot of people seem to be. Is that where a ruler lives?

Oh, hey, you got a Paddington.

[Okay, that is just . . . Adorably weird. It's hard not to be charmed by a sponsor drop that innocuous. And shared-home-universe nostalgia value definitely helps.]

Did they throw any of the Hundred Acre Wood crew in there?

Queen Elizabeth II. She and the Prime Minister Rule the United Kingdom.

[That beam? At least 80% proud papa. Be glad he's not the flash pictures everywhere sort of guy.]

She's had the throne for over sixty years now.

[Peeks into the crate again.]

I think they gave me about four of him, actually. If you want one.

As for the others...

[Pokes around inside.]

Think I might have a classic Poo and Piglet at the bottom.

Oh- wow. Are you sure?

[While it hasn't touched his solidly Canadian accent, Eugene's been in England for years now. If anything, going through the apocalypse in the country probably makes the sentimental value of the thing even more pronounced.]

I can see if I still have some kippers in the deep freeze. If you want to trade English-for-English here. Or there's the universal currency of moonshine.

I certainly don't need more than one. And I'd love the kippers if you don't mind sharing.

[Been far too long since he's had them. Nods to the pile.]

I've got the lot on the Huntress if you want to come and get one.

I'll be over as soon as I dig them out.

[He goes to turn off the feed, then pauses as a question comes to mind.]

So, is it your birthday or something? Should I put a candle on them?

Er, yes it is, but skip the candle.

[Snorts at the sudden amusing thought.]

Don't think you'd be able to gather up enough of them anyway.

Okay. Now that is a story I'm going to have to ask about.

[The guy definitely doesn't look old enough to have earned a nigh-uncountable number of candles, but Eugene's used enough to the number of unusual characters in the fleet not to boggle at the idea that he might be dealing with a more-than-meets-the-eye situation.

Go figure. A previous life in a zombie apocalypse and a bare-metal, clearly prosthetic left leg, and it's otherwise being a Pretty Average Dude that usually makes him the odd man out.]

I'll be there in a few minutes.

[There is still a baggie or two of the oily, smoked fishes in the bottom of the freezer in the cargo bay, which he packs into his bag along with two fresh sourdough rolls and a jar of the aforementioned moonshine before piloting a shuttle over to the Huntress.]

Perhaps over a drink when you get here.

[Oh yes, it's a story alright. A lot of story.

Arthur waited at the docking bay to meet him, in a good deal of a better mood. Kippers on his birthday? Please.]

[Getting an escort from the cargo bay is always nice, and Eugene lifts a hand in greeting as he gets out of his shuttle, snugging his bag up on his shoulder.]

Hi there! [A few steps over, and he offers his hand.] Eugene Woods, cook aboard the Wonderduck. Nice to meet you.

[Arthur took his hand, shaking it firmly with a smile. Not entirely one of his, but... close enough.]

Arthur Kirkland, the engineer on board the Huntress here. It's a pleasure to meet anyone who recognises dear Pattington.

Hey, you gotta love the classics, right?

[Eugene can't even put a finger on what's so immediately, easily likeable about this guy - not that he's thinking too hard about it, per se. Any reminders of the better parts of home are welcome.]

Speaking of which-

[He reaches into his bag and pulls out the jar mostly full of clear liquid, sloshing it in illustration.]

I think you mentioned something about a story over drinks.

Especially classics that adorable.

[His eyes lit up at the bottle. What could he say, he liked a good pub crawl.]

I do believe I did. Come on then, we'll take that in my cabin. I have glasses we can use.

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