driftfleet | ⚝ video 001;

[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.

But I'm a big ol' tough son of a gun, goes against my image.

[Sawyer you've been here all of a few days, what image. But at the very least, making light of it all is a better choice. Best not to dwell on all that nonsense when he doesn't have to]

Wow, and here I thought it was bein' respectful. [especially to a lady who could kick his ass easily] Thinkin' purgatory might be a better choice.

[the face he makes, though:] I don't wanna be eatin' no E.T lookalikes, that's just disturbing. And scarring. [while she's looking to get cooking, Sawyer gets up to look for something to drink - tea, whatever the hell else there is, he doesn't care - but maybe if he looks in these cabinets he'll find some alcohol] Eggs are eggs, I'll eat 'em however they're made.

[he pauses, halfway into a cabinet, to lean back and peer at her]

I was a damn mess before I woke up here, so I know the feeling. What were you in the hospital for? If I can ask.

Is that how you see yourself?

[ All humor in it, so as not to bruise his ego. However, if he survived three years on an island where it sounded like it was more than just simply survival... well, either/or is more than a little impressive. He's resilient at the very least and that's something she most definitely can appreciate. ]

Hey, I'm just saying it's got a connotation once you hit a certain age and I'm certainly not getting any younger. [ It's fine, she'll arm wrestle him to even the odds. Thumb wrestle, even. ] You know, it could be that this is the in between. Or maybe it's the most vivid dream I've ever had? But I guess it's so strange that I just have to accept that it's reality.

[ She chuckles softly, a little thick with a soft sigh at the end in that "I needed that," sort of way. Honestly, this entire hang-out session was a breath of fresh air. Easy, in a way.]

Yeah, I understand. Don't worry, I'll play taste-tester so that way I'll be the first one scarred from eating Alf. [ That's a dated reference if there ever was one. Although it could be that it just tastes like beef or something she can identify, she's not going to make it even harder to swallow. She looks over her shoulder. ] If you find any cups, a glass of water'd be swell. And you're going to get sunny-side since I like it that way.

[ Well, that and it's easier to keep the shape and form when you've got a few eggs in the pan. She keeps cooking, back to him, though she wonders if maybe that's the kind of thing she should make eye contact over. When someone says they're a mess. Then again, he doesn't seem like the kind of guy who really takes comfort in sympathy, even if sometimes it can be a pleasant feeling. ]

Well, glad you're alright now. I was... well, it's complicated but I guess it can be summarized by fighting my way through an oil refinery with a guy from the West African branch... not quite sure how we made it through against the odds. On the way to the rendezvous point, I got hit with the brunt of a rocket launcher blast. Just missed me head-on, but slammed me against some old train gondolas. [ There's more to it. Three years of torture and acting against her will right up until that point, moving to the brink of exhaustion. The last vestiges of P30 swirling in her bloodstream, the tests -- both physical and psychological -- and the intel she provided. She's tired still, yet all she wants to do is carry on. ] Few broken bones, hyper-extension, so on and so forth. I was overall busted up pretty badly.

[ There are less physical scars than others. Jill pokes at the steak. ]

Hey, I can back it up.

[there's only the tiniest hint of humorous protest in his tone, despite the fact that it's the honest truth. Honestly, he probably shouldn't be alive at this point but here he is, still kicking]

See, I'd buy that if I were a younger guy. But seein' as I'm older and matured, it ain't got that connotation comin' from me. [and also there was no sass in it, like he normally tosses in there when he's being a cheeky jerk] Vivid hallucination? I'd buy it. Just don't go thinkin' about it too hard, that's probably one hell of a deep rabbit hole to go down.

[all the random possibilities and considering his experience, well. It was hard not to think that way. He still wasn't completely sold on Kyriakos' nonsense about worlds exploding, and since when he got back the only other guy who knew about it didn't remember . . . ah, well.

No booze in this cabinet, so he moves on to the next one. Shame no one was hiding any in there, so he makes a note to pick up some himself from somewhere. Maybe the bar. He raises an eyebrow at her explanation, though, and it's hard not to hide the slight impressed expression. Hell of a girl, to survive something like that] I'll say. Ain't no small thing, surviving something like that. Damn.

Sure, sure. Don't let me stop you from doing that.

[ No better way to enjoy your life than surviving against all odds. It's a pain, but it makes the days following all the sweeter. Maybe it's luck, but she'll take luck. ]

I can see how you manage to charm your way out of situations, but it's not working on me. On the bright side, it's giving me a good laugh and I know who to call if I need help with a negotiation. Anyway, you've gotta be about my age. Younger, I imagine. [ She's not sure if she should call him charming or not, but the ability to coax someone is valuable. As is keeping a conversation light when it could very well have tension to it. ] Let's just focus more on the food, shall we? Otherwise I'll drag you with me.

[ Being here alone opens up possibilities. Most of which, he's right, she doesn't exactly care to linger on as much as she'd like to know the reasons. She's not going to stumble on those reasons by her own thoughts. Information, then maybe it could be fallen back on.

Jill tilts her head over her shoulder into something of a shrug, twisting a faint and perhaps self-depreciating smile off in his direction. It's something she's heard before, even recently. ]

I don't let down. I'm pretty tenacious, so there just... wasn't an option then to give in. Could barely walk. [ It's not the first time. There's a sense about her that she's survived through more than one situation where the odds seemed to be against her. ] Smells and looks like a sirloin. Typically like it a bit more raw than medium, but let's stick with being safe.

Believe it or not, my charm nor my good looks are all that good at getting me out of situations. [which is a damn shame, he's worked so hard on both] And I know better'n to take a guess at a lady's age, so I'll just bite the bullet and tell ya I'm a little over forty. Food's good, though. Great conversation.

[he usually left that sort of wondering to the smarter kids, who were all about figuring a way out and taking down the baddies - not his cup of tea at the time, and not really his now, either. But that's more because he just got down with that.

He gives a little hum and pretends he doesn't see the smile, occupying himself with cabinet #3] Tenacious seems like a bit of an understatement to me. You're just one of those types who just ain't about gettin' killed.

[he peeks around the cabinet to grin at her] I can relate.

So, a Jack of All Trades? If it's not brains that get you through, I'm not sure what you might say it is. [ She doesn't necessarily believe in luck always being a huge factor. It takes the power away from the person who made the decisions. ] Ha, ha, well at least you got that going on. I just hit thirty-five. I always seem to be one of the older people in the room.

[ But take it as a compliment. She thought he maybe was thirty-two, thirty-three or so. But it says a lot about age and the way people look or how she gauges appearance.

She's still nudging around the steak, flipping the other side over. Some seasoning or a marinade would have been nice, but she's too hungry to dig through unknown cabinets more or wait for it. Another time, maybe. ]

That's the kind of compliment that tickles me, you know. [ It actually does; she ducks her head, coy like she'd been told she does something extremely well or looks wonderful or something like that. She's come a long way. ] Yeah? This island-related or something you consider for yourself overall? [ A mild pause as she shifts a way a little and digs around more. ] You seen any plates or utensils? I mean, I'm all for eating off the pan and tearing it with my hands, but I'd rather you didn't think back on the day you met me like that.

I just don't know when to die. [how many times has he come incredibly close? Far too many times. He raises an eyebrow, then grins at her, both eyebrows up in an expression that clearly says "I'm a little shit even if I'm being polite"] Well hell, I wouldn't have guessed a day over twenty-five. Last place I ended up in - not the island - I was one of the oldest. Y'know, age wise. [not maturity-wise, and he isn't even going to pretend]

[he will take it as a compliment, because it's all about the age you feel and . . . okay he's been feeling pretty damn old lately but that's starting to go away]

Is it really a compliment if it's just tellin' the truth? [but he'll take those points, thank you] Island-related, mostly. Had a bad habit of getting shot and stabbed. [totally casual, like it's normal. He goes back to one of the cabinets and pulls out a couple of plates] Ain't found any utensils just yet, but I got plates.

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