driftfleet | ⚝ video 001;

[ She's just been wandering, pausing from time-to-time, looking out any window she comes by to stare out at the vast nothingness. It feels a little like she's being swallowed up by it all, barely even a speck of dust in the middle. From one cage to another, but with added freedoms; there's no longer that feeling of her head being held underwater, gasping for air every time she's allowed to surface. No derisive tones and gentle brushing of her shoulders or lower back. It's just her, in control.

Not the exact way she would've wanted, but she'll take what she can get. With little else to do other than explore the smaller ship or run laps, she decides to take a peek at the most recent broadcast, barely noting someone else in the distance while she does so. She walks while texting, her pace seemingly purposeful even though it isn't.

She quickly realizes the man in the distance might just be the one she'd just replied to, however. She raises her arm, but doesn't wave from a few yards away, just to make sure she's noticed. She nudges her baseball cap up with her knuckles in further greeting as she nears. ]

Guess I'm coming down for a chat anyway. For half a second, I thought you were someone I knew. [ It takes her a moment to pick up from there, a slight pause as she extends a hand, gloved but fingerless. ] Jill Valentine, I've only just come here myself.

Edited (good thing i kept this open and caught that huhu) 2017-07-10 22:40 (UTC)

[once upon a time, Jill would have had the full Sawyer charm turned up to eleven; he was the sort of man who would compliment any pretty lady, even if his charm came off more as being an asshole than anything else. But that was - he isn't sure how long. He doesn't follow the thought because there's no reason to.

So when Jill approaches and extends a hand in greeting, Sawyer glances down at her hand and back up with a raised eyebrow before taking it, giving it a firm shake]

Guess I got that kind of face. [he does offer her a grin, though, because he isn't gonna say no to company. Ain't like he knows anyone here, as far as he knows anyway] Yeah, you mentioned. Guess we newbies stick out, huh? Name's Sawyer.

[ She's honestly relieved that this is a normal conversation, though she'd be perfectly fine with some flirting back. It's easier to throw back and forth some light jokes than it is to really talk to someone, but she'd be hard-pressed to admit her walls are raised high.

Her smile is light and friendly, contrary to the stiff way she clasps his hand without shaking it. Once retracted, it's settled comfortably to her hip. ]

It's the hair, actually. About same height and build from a distance. [ It's a little disappointing, but she bounces back form it without it showing. She looks around a little as she speaks, though she doesn't have a problem meeting his eyes. ] Seems it's not terribly uncommon for people to pop-up like this on the regular. So, find anything interesting so far, Sawyer?

[light jokes he can certainly do, and if a little flirting does come with it, well, what can he say? It just happens.

He does note the stiff grip, though, and the way she holds herself. He's been around enough people like that to know she isn't just some normal lady]

Well, sorry it's disappointin' up close? [despite the words, his tone is light and amused] Can't say that surprises me - last place I was in was like that, though there wasn't as much of a schedule to it. Wonderin' if this place is more predictable.

[and a shrug. He lifts the device in his hands to wave it as he talks] Mostly space stuff. Can't say I'm surprised by it - makes sense to drag in folks who're used to the space travel bullcrap.

[ She has no qualms about pulling out her ID to introduce herself, but the way she's dressed denotes just as much as her simultaneously serious and playful attitude. It's not forced to that end and hardly the typical "cop tries to make a friend," but it easily can come off a bit that way. ]

Oh, are you fishing for a compliment, there? C'mon, you're at least a half-decent looking guy! I'm sure you don't need me to boost your ego. [ Softer now, easing into the conversation with a faint laugh. ] I'd just gotten out of the hospital, so you can imagine I'm not terribly thrilled to be here. Sorry if I come off as a bit... jerkish because of it. Can't say much about schedules, especially when it's all the same outside. They dragged in the wrong gal, though, if they're looking for space travel.

[ She's nudging her device into one of the many pockets into her hip pack, fingers lingering around the belt of it casually as she does, indeed, pull out her ID, flipping it open. A badge of sorts with a bronzed emblem and the ID itself states Biohazard Security Assessment Alliance (along with the acronym BSAA), her name as she introduced herself, a photograph (with her in a baseball cap and looking not terribly thrilled about the picture being taken), that she's a special operations agent in the North American Branch (implying other branches), her clearance level, and a number which seems to imply she's the second member. No birth date, age, weight, or information about her appearance which suggests that it's unneeded for some reason or another. There's a bit of folded paper behind the emblem, used a bit like the wallet. The only indication that it isn't money is that it looks off-white. ]

I'm sure you had some thoughts considering... [ She sort of gestures to the empty holster at her hip and where a knife undoubtedly was along her leg. ] Kinda might make people look twice.

Edited (words) 2017-07-11 04:27 (UTC)

Do I seem like a guy who needs extra ego-boostin' and compliments? [he regards her with a curious eyebrow raise before he shrugs a shoulder at the "jerkish" comment. Like he, of all people, is going to judge someone for being a jerk] I just escaped an explodin' island, so I'm right with you on not bein' all too pleased. Same goes for the space travel.

[oh, he sees the badge. Instinct and past experience (and y'know, being him) earns it a closer eye, but he's never heard of the BSAA and he's pretty sure they'd want nothing to do with a con man like him.

The gesture earns a grin, though, far too amused for his own good. He holds up both hands] I know better'n to ask why a lady's packin'. Or was, as the case may be.

Edited 2017-07-11 21:13 (UTC)

Hey, I've known you a whole of five minutes. People do a lot of things on the surface that seem one way and really are another. [ There's a hint of a tease in there, like it was meant to be a joke but she's being much too sincere to go through with all of it. ] Been there, done that, would prefer not to be there or do that again. "Out of the frying pan and into the fire," huh. I mean could be a whole lot worse, the people settled in don't seem to be too deprived or unhappy.

[ But they could be brainwashed. They could've been here for long enough that they have to be complacent. It's hard to say what their reasons may or may not be. Jill shrugs mildly like it's no big deal and since he doesn't seem too quick to slide away, he's probably not an intergalactic bioterrorist.

Thank the heavens for small favors. ]

Not asking doesn't mean you're not going to be curious and I'd rather be candid. Not really any way to enforce what I do here, but you can bet I'd Alabama Slam a guy if they were playing with that kind of thing. [ Partially because she was itching to get back to work. It gave her a purpose. She's polite enough to not look bored, but she's obviously distracted by the surroundings; it really is like nothing she's ever seen before. She nudges a little at the empty spaces where grenades were on her belt, gazing down like she doesn't know its there. ] Guess I could put snacks here or something...

[ That's a bad joke and she is clearly aware of it. ]

So, what are you exactly, if you don't mind me asking? ...I mean, uh. [ She phrased that wrong. ] What I mean to say is that I'm apparently "Tactical Support," which I won't really complain about.

[that earns a chuckle] Five minutes or no, I can assure you I'm pretty transparent. What you see is what you get, more or less. [he matches her teasing despite the hint of truth there - it isn't all on the table, but he isn't about to tell her his life story or nothing] It could be a lot worse, we could be competing for our lives every couple of days.

[another joke, with a hint of truth. Or is that experience? Who knows, another thing he isn't getting into, but less likely to block as a conversation possibility]

You get points for Alabama Slam. [the grin briefly widens; playing to the crowd, eh?] Curious don't mean I gotta be all nosy on the first five minutes, though. But hey, more capable people the better. [he snickers] You could. Won't say no to snacks.

[but here it comes, the biggest joke of them all. At least to Sawyer] I'm Security, which you won't hear me complainin' about either. Nice to get a job where I got some semblance of experience.

Yeah, yeah, you're crystal. [ Maybe he really is, though. She doesn't discount that even if she's naturally cautious. ] That's just about every day of my life back home, so if it happens just stick with me and I'll get you through it!

[ Sounds like an extra terrible reality show, but considering the situation... honestly, that could be what it is underneath it all. She won't push on it even if it sounds like he has some experience with the idea, whether it be fictional (that kind of fighting probably has become common in television shows, she figures) or not. ]

Well, I'd be lying if I said I'm not a leg girl. You're more likely to get a Hurricanrana out of me. [ Flashy enough a move and one she did seamlessly. Her Enzuigiri was something else, too. ] Well, we're stuck here, what else do we have to talk about other than the unknown? And, like I said, I'm pretty transparent. [ But her smile widens at that. ] Hm, speaking of, is there a kitchen here like on that other ship? Actually, you mind a walk and talk? Haven't really gotten my bearings here yet.

[ Personal jokes are still jokes, though she has to raise her brows to that one. If he was a cop for a day, she'll have to call bullshit on him not being some strange alternate universe version of Leon, though. ]

That so? Well, guess we're in somewhat similar fields, then. If you don't mind me asking what your previous... experience was, then consider this a question?

I think I'll pass on that, I've had my fill of runnin' and playin' for my life for now. [he says, knowing he's probably jinxing himself]

[he isn't even sure how to put it into words, really; soul shattered, world supposedly destroyed, amnesia; it sounded like a bad movie. And it just made him sound crazy]

I'd pay good money to see you Hurricanrana someone. [if there is a God he'll let him witness such an awesome feat. Ain't every day you meet a badass lady who could even pull one off, let alone know what it is] I'm game for a walk and talk - kitchen's down this way, I've already passed through once.

[he makes a gesture for her to follow along with him. Misery loves company etc, not that he's miserable or anything.

He doesn't mind the question, judging by the grin on his face] Worked security in a . . . let's say a small development, not too long ago. Three years, plus some other experience relatin' to that.

I guess I specialize in it. Kind of hard to float around like this without being in mortal danger.

[ It's a joke, but it's also the truth of the matter for Jill. It's a strange, uncomfortable thing to not feel like everything is tidy and defined. If she's not with the BSAA, if she's not fighting against bioterrorism, then who is she?

Though if she had the chance, she'd understand it all too well. The past three years of her own life were hell. ]

Ha, well, better get your ratings up and we'll talk about that a little more... [ That, enzuigiris, and super kicks are her signature moves other than a double knee drop into a backflip standing position. Her appearance can be a bit deceiving, but it serves her well. ] Is it? If there's steak, I'm grillin'.

[ Although he could very well be someone who isn't in to meat. Jill follows near, falling into step almost beside him. ]

So from security to security? Guess when you put it that way, the past three years of my life were similar. [ She keeps her eyes ahead when she speaks, but manages to not sound terse or closed off. ] No need to expand on it if you don't feel like it.

Gotta admit, joinin' that sounds like you're just askin' for it. No offense, and it ain't like I can really talk.

[former career criminal that he is. He almost missed it sometimes]

You're gonna hit the limit on my move list soon if we keep goin', I haven't watched any wrestling in years. [y'know, because he's been in jail, on an island, ruining his life, so on and so on] I'll happily let you grill, there better be something good.

[meat lover confirmed, but he'll eat anything. And a lot of it, it's been a while since food wasn't a scarce thing]

I'd expand if I could figure out a good way to put it that made even a lick of sense, but let's just put this way - I went from criminal to security at this place, and now I'm here doin' it again. [he holds both hands up] Ain't a criminal anymore, by the way.

You make a choice, you know? I knew what I was getting into.

[ She pointedly raises her eyebrows to his comment. He probably has something interesting going on, but he's not offering it. Too bad, she's definitely curious enough to listen. ]

Ha, well, you have to adapt. It's all based on something, right? A punch, a kick, a chop, whatever. Don't usually have much time to watch it. [ It's fine, she's been off committing a variety of atrocities in the name of someone she absolutely hated. Being controlled is no fun. ] If they're going to kidnap us to be entertaining, I'd say it's the least they can do, right?

[ Jill has eaten a lot of things in her travels, but if she's got a choice, she'd much rather it be palatable. She'll give most anything a go once or twice, though. ]

Hm, well, I've got a lot of stories like that, myself. [ She remains just as casual, not looking surprised but not looking like she is suspicious or worried of him. Although it does beg the question what kind of criminal he is, if he was promoted to security once and was deemed it here, she'd defer to it. ] Glad to hear that. Can't say I don't understand how it can work out some days, but it's... I guess my moral compass is pretty strong, but I've mostly been lucky. I'm not judging.

[he raises his eyebrows in return and offers a shrug] Made a choice for some shit knowing what I'd get into, other times the choices were made for me. I ain't the luckiest SOB out there.

[though his luck is a lot better than some]

Depends on who's doin' it, then it comes with the fancy name, right? Didn't have much time to watch it myself, mostly turned it on as background noise. [ha ha, the stories these two could share] I'd say so, but past experience tells me they don't give a damn either way.

[he knows he's leaving out details, but considering they're sort of casually dancing around each other with details, he's fine waiting for her to ask or just dropping it at random. And besides, it's been a while since he could just have a god damn normal conversation with a stranger] Hah, you can judge if ya want. Ain't like you're the first or the last, or like I mind. [and he doesn't. He made turning people away because of who he was an art form] It's in the past, though. Not a lot of people to con when you're stuck on an island.

Well, considering we're up the loosest definition of "shit creek" I can imagine, I'd say we both lost the Ace up our sleeves.

[ Might be getting better, Jill's pretty solid and the people she's met so far here have seemed alright. Could be that they'll be on a ship full of swell folk, though she's not going to cross her fingers on that one. ]

Minor changes in movement or where it hits, I guess. I've trained in several martial arts and savate, but it all kind of molds together into something that works for you -- or me, in this case. [ She lightly shrugs on that, more in good humor to suggest he might actually be quite a fan than anything else. ] Always is with the asshole at the top, isn't it?

[ It's in her voice that she'll enjoy tearing them down whenever they do get to meet. She goes back and forth between looking up at him and her surroundings. A lot of it is the same, but it's still different; if she's going to be here for an undetermined amount of time, she's going to have to familiarize herself with the place. ]

Can't make a judgement unless I know the details. It's too easy to just meet someone and hear something and have that be the way you define them. [ Though they might share something in common related to it all. ] Well, fortunately I promise I've nothing worth taking unless you're in the market for another bottle of champagne. Not sure how comfortable you are with it, but lock picking is actually one of my specialties. If that's... one of yours, wouldn't mind talkin' a little shop?

I don't know. [he taps his temple] Still got all my memories, so maybe we're just on shit creek's bank right now.

[considering that out of all the survivors from the original crash he's still kicking, maybe saying he was unlucky was a bit unfair. But then there's all the shit he went through, too, so who knows. Perspective]

Damn, that's takin' it past the stuff on TV. All I can do is throw a good punch. [mostly true, at least. He quirks a brief half-grin and shrugs with her] That's how it always is.

[when they do eventually reach the kitchen Sawyer just seats himself at the table, eyes on Jill when he isn't talking. Then it's every at once, like he's taking it all in. He isn't usually one to sweat the small details, but after everything . . .

He can't help but chuckle a little, and he plops an elbow on the table and his chin on his hand] I was a con man. Conned pretty ladies out of all their money and ran off with it. Lock-picking's a specialty, kinda has to be when the pretty ladies give you their money in a locked briefcase.

You're askin' for trouble when you say things like that. Just glad they belong to me and aren't being shared.

[ She shoots him an empathetic look like she gets it, though. It's something she's thankful for, especially in light of all that recent information about sharing memories. Hers are still her own, not broadcast for everyone like a midnight showing of Jill Valentine: Somehow Still Truckin' with a fountain soda and a little bucket of fake buttery popcorn to accompany it all. ]

Good punch beats no punches at all when it comes down to it, especially since it does seem like weapons won't do much good here.

[ Either that, or maybe the ones who brought them here really are afraid of their weapons? Could be why they're missing, though she's not sure how a pilot's knife or and old custom Beretta will get her back home. She wipes a little at her forehead underneath her cap, even though she shows no sign of perspiration; more a soothing gesture than anything, a way to replace kneading into her eyes until she starts to see stars.

Rather than take a seat, she starts picking around the kitchen to see what is available. ]

Oh, cool guy, huh. [ She peers over her shoulder and the expression isn't lost just because she's crouching or her cap covers her eyebrows. It's raised minutely just as her eyes widen. ] Though briefcases sounds like you played Robin Hood. Don't find too many that transport cash that way unless they're some kind of asshole but that might just be my sort of business. You any good with electronic locks?

[ Back to him, she lifts up a can of beans and shakes it back and forth, like it's actually tempting. ]

I found pinto beans.

I know I am, but I figure since I went through it I'm immune to jinxing it for now. I've done the sharin' part, too - it ain't as fun as everyone makes it look.

[and all things considered, he doesn't want anything on display. He did it already, he's done, and even if some of the shit that ended up out there wasn't all that bad, is more than enough for him]

True enough, but I'm more of a weapons guy. And I ain't down with no weapons on my person, so after you're done cookin' we're gonna see what perks being Security gets me.

[hopefully it means he has access to guns, and he can make sure at least he and Jill are armed. Call it paranoia, but he doesn't trust a damn thing about this place, and that'll make him feel a little better.

He shoots her a grin at the look] I've dealt with a few assholes like that in my life, it ain't just wives I conned - I just preferred that over dealin' with their husbands.

[his nose scrunches up just a touch]

They ain't all that bad if you cook 'em right. Sometimes.

Ah... that thing then? Sorry to hear it. Seemed pretty damn intrusive to me, whether it's meant for entertainment or not.

[ She believes firmly that it should be their choice, on their terms of that sort of thing happens. Broadcasting, visibly, supposedly to an intergalactic audience against your will is... way beyond her comfort zone. ]

You know just the right thing to say to win a gal's heart. [ She doesn't even make a mock gesture of holding her hand to her chest, it's all in tone. She'd ideally like a knife to be kept with her and not just a gun, but beggars can't be choosers. ] Weren't you just going on about sharing memories not being fun? Guess that might say something about them.

[ She shoves the can back in and gets up to fidget with the protein dispensers -- to which she quickly makes a face when she realizes it's not a soda or slushie machine and has the option "meat texture" that she's not curious enough to taste-test. Instead, Jill goes to scrounge up something from the fridge. ]

Bean salads aren't bad. [ The freezer on the Marsiva had meat, so maybe there's something more palatable in this one? She makes a small sound; no steak, but there's ground meat. ] Seems to be beef. Could fry it up with some egg and I guess vegetables if there are any. Otherwise there's some runny gelatiny stuff in that machine?

Oh, it is. Nothin' quite like runnin' through someone's subconscious when they're none-the-wiser to it.

[and from the murmuring here, he's heard that isn't quite the case. Which makes it all the more awkward and uncomfortable.

He shoots a grin, almost boyish, and grins] 'Course I do, I'm a charmer. [he'd take a knife too, honestly. Just something to take the edge of paranoia off] Broad statements are fair game, ma'am.

[he watches her with a raised eyebrow, and can't help but snicker when it turns out not to be a soda fountain. It was terrible, of course, but amusing in that "out of the fire and into another one" sort of way]

If it tastes like meat I'll take it. As long as it ain't, like - exotic fruits or anything. Had my fill of those.

To my knowledge I was doing the running around rather than someone in mine, but I think I'd rather just not know if they did.

[ She'd considered it was possible, but it's not something she wants to talk about. She doesn't want to be exposed in that manner, especially after the past three years. She'd already had to humiliate herself in front of colleagues and recant every detail that came to mind -- and some she was simply too ashamed to mention. Chris knew, of course, because he simply did either by her words or the lack of them in some cases, but it's nothing she desired to relive anytime soon. The best way to get over trauma was to move forward.

She'd convinced herself of that, anyway. Enough that she was back in the field already and now... here. With her back to him, the mild turn in her expression can't be made out but there's a hint of it in her tone. ]

That's the kind of statement that sends chills down a woman's spine -- not in the good way, might I add. [ But she shrugs with a tacked on laugh, leaning into the counter. ] I don't know. There's an option for it. I'll take a shot if you do. Should I ask on that fruit thing or should I just let you bury it for the sake of the whole former subconscious convo?

You and me both. Don't think I did any running around, but if I did I must have blacked it out already.

[least, he hasn't done it here. And he's never had people running around in his, which would . . . honestly bring up a lot of things he doesn't want to deal with. Like his name, or his past, or what went on while on the island . . . basically everything. Only a handful of people knew all of that, and most of them were dead now]

Why not in a good way? [he knows why, he just wants to hear it say it out loud. He huffs out a bit of laugh] I'll try it. Worst it'll do is kill us. [ha ha, morbid humor]

Was trapped on a semi-deserted island. [just like that. He shrugs a shoulder] Gotta eat what you can, and fruit was a main dish far too many times to count. That's why I was askin' after the flight number - plane crashed there, bunch of us survived.

Edited 2017-07-18 04:08 (UTC)

For the better, maybe. Sorry you had to deal with that kinda BS.

[ She, of course, assumes it is here and wouldn't pry regardless. Memories are both precious and dangerous and it's really unfair to expect people to be so open in this sort of situation. As open as he has been is more than enough and honestly, somewhat comforting to her. ]

You really know how to back someone into a corner, huh? [ A swift dodge on her part, but probably not one good enough to fully miss the brunt of his devastating attack! ] Hey, who knows, death might be the way out of here.

[ Ha, ha... equally... morbid... Though perhaps not an unfounded joke. Presumably if it's here, people already live on this ship and use this kitchen, and it doesn't have a DO NOT EAT label on it or isn't thrown overboard, it must be edible. ]

Damn, I guess if anything deserves a steak that turn of events definitely does. [ It's enough to have her bust through the joke about eating some kind of gelatinous protein thing and pull out the mystery meat and eggs before looking around for a frying pan. Though she's rarely one to cook for others, if she's going to treat herself, might as well treat him too. She dips around into cupboards back and forth with quick skims. She doesn't say she's doing that, but she's being pretty unsubtle enough that it's obvious. ] You just manage to escape that when coming here, then?

Eh, don't be. Came with the territory.

[at the very least, if he decides to drop the bomb that was Kyriakos, it wouldn't sound as crazy as it would as he tried back home. Hell, maybe it'd be therapeutic to get that shit off his chest]

I ain't doin' no backing anywhere, ma'am, I ain't that ballsy. [he says with a straight face and practically screaming "LIAR" at the same time] Might be, but they might just bring us back, too. Ain't worth it.

[if it's too morbid for him, he doesn't show it, just going along with the joke like it's normal. And really, it kind of is. Though he's never done the dying thing. Came close a number of times, though]

If I get a steak for escaping that place then I'll be happy. [and that isn't a lie. He wasn't lucky like some of them, who got to go home for a couple of years. He gave up his spot so they'd make it, and then got to play on the island for even longer. It was . . . he doesn't bother going any further with that thought] Yup. Lucky me, eh?

Hasn't anyone ever told you to take empathy when it's given? Or, I guess, you could consider it commiseration.

[ She's none too eager to discuss the situation she was in. When she thinks about it, it stills her. Sometimes, she still wakes up in a cold sweat with memories of clattering metal and fluorescent lights. ]

Ma'am is really a deathblow to some women, so maybe you are that ballsy. [ She thinks she might think he's pretty okay. Alright, even. ] Hm, in that case I might start believing in the concept of hell.

[ She's almost thoughtful about it, a little less humor and a little more consideration as if, for half a second, it was a sincerely viable option for her. Who knows, this could still just be a very vivid dream she's having and would wake up from soon. ]

Well, you might. We're on a spaceship so it could very well be some weird alien livestock. [ Or maybe it's just bison, that wouldn't be unwelcome. When she finds the frying pan, she raises it up with one arm but doesn't really do much else in way of excitement. She's swift with dropping it on the stove and bringing over the food, opening the package of the meatstuff first. ] Sunnyside up or are you gonna be a heathen and tell me to scramble or poach an egg?

[ The meat isn't sizzling quite yet, but she can already smell it. ]

Just been out of the hospital for about a week, myself. Wouldn't even know it right? Tip-top shape.

2/2, i'm a filthy liar.

how dare

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