( open ) may-mingling for those struck by stars

[uprightness]

Who: starstruck crew & visitors
Broadcast: N/A
Action: on board the SS Starstruck
When: Throughout May

[ There's a fancy ball coming up so better get those dresses, tuxedos and guns ready. also there's still a ton of pumpkin-themed food all over the place, enjoy alla that. ]

Comments

[theroadwarrior]

...

Who, me?

...

Need to smell at least a little feral, or the dogs'll think I'm people.

[mucked]

Oi, now. [ a bit offended! ] Rock recognizes me just fine no matter what the scent. Perhaps he's cleverer than you.

[ -- not the first time she's floated this notion. ]

[theroadwarrior]

[Snort.]

He's definitely cleverer than me.

[Rock lifts his head nearby, interested, as Max points at him.]

He knows how to fetch.

[mucked]

[ she splurges, tossing a tea bag into each cup rather than steeping them together with a single bag. cantankerous as she can be, peggy clearly approves of his better moods. ]

I imagine you fetch well enough. Provided the proper motivation.

[theroadwarrior]

[His eyebrow quirks, and he folds his arms. Almost defiantly, even.]

Bribes, you mean.

Don't you try bribing me.

[They both know he's full of shit; if she needed something, he'd be there to get it, no questions.]

[mucked]

I'll bribe whoever I bloody well want to bribe, actually. You or anyone else. [ because that's what's important, yes. ]

[theroadwarrior]

[He furrows his brow.]

I refuse.

[Also important.]

... Mmmn...

Maybe if it's a good bribe.

[mucked]

And what, pray tell, passes for a good bribe these days?

[ translation: anything you'd like? want? ]

[theroadwarrior]

Huh. What do you think my answer is?

Crew trust exercise.

[Not really but still. It could be interesting.]

[mucked]

[ without missing a goddamned beat: ] Hard to answer, seeing as you've never told me your preferences neither.

[ she's got guesses, maybe, but the joke had been too tempting. ]

[theroadwarrior]

[He actually seems genuinely unsure, now that he considers it.]

... Hnn... Don't really have many anymore.

Prefer not to starve. Maybe get some good sleep. Not get shot.

[mucked]

[ max. have you no appreciation for comedic timing? she was so funny, just now, and you're ruining it. ruining it so much. ]

Well. I heard you like pancakes. With stuff on'em.

[theroadwarrior]

[Comedic timing is still a bit rusty, Peggy, forgive him.

He tries not to perk at the mention of pancakes. Ochako may or may not have spoiled him at this point.]

... Mmm... I guess I do. Sounds weird, when you put it like that.

[Says someone about something as simple as pancakes.]

[mucked]

Don't look at me like that. [ she addresses that slight almost-perk in his posture. ] I don't be making any bloody pancakes.

[theroadwarrior]

[SCOFF.]

Wouldn't trust you to make food in general.

[mucked]

[ she tries to look offended, but-- ]

No, you're right. I'm much happier doing a great many things besides cooking. [ ... ] New York had such great automats. I miss them terribly. And they were open late enough that one never had to worry about cooking no matter the hour.

[theroadwarrior]

[He cocks his head to the side, unsure.]

Automats?

[... Obviously, that's not car-related. What the hell is an automat.]

[mucked]

Little diners. They've got a whole wall of cubbies with pie slices, for example, sitting in them. You put in the appropriate loose change and you're allowed to open it up and have your piece.

[theroadwarrior]

... That sounds great.

Don't have to deal with real people.

[Oh, how we mourn for the social butterfly that was 20-year-old Max.]

[mucked]

Waitresses do pour the coffee and tea. And you can buy food made to order -- but yes, if you'd like to avoid all that fuss you're free to eat pie to your heart's content.

[theroadwarrior]

[Huh.]

Should bring those into space.