Open/Mingle - Roll Call.

[collegedropout]

Who: Sam, and you, and anyone; tis a mingle of sorts.
Broadcast: Fleetwide.
Action: SS Bloodsport, if you wanna find him.
When: After the planet is struck - Sept 22nd.

Note: Feel free to tag each other and inform everyone of whatever you need to, post-planetary explosion! I'll tag here and there, but consider it more of a mingle for people to touch bases about casualities and making sure people know they're okay (or if someone's injured.)

[Sam sits, triumphant in their mission but also defeated in spirit. Because yeah, they got the ship off the planet, and there's a whole civilization of people who get out of there... but he also is already too aware there is at least one fatality on their end already. Looma's last broadcast had been expected, especially after she'd sent him a warning beacon as the meteor pressed down into the planet's atmosphere, speeding, ready to smash the thing to pieces without effort.

Looma at least faced her death as one would expect, for her people. He imagines they would be proud.

Still, he sounds deflated at the thought, as he speaks a more leveled and straightforward response:]


... We've lost Captain Looma, of the SS Bishop. Umm... for what it's worth, she did it on her terms. I'm sorry.


[He's carried out the task of divvying up the blood from the blood drive, in case anyone from any particular ship needs it; there've been some injuries from shrapnel and citizen unrest, he's pretty sure. That's about all he can do, now, other than check in on the gardens... make sure Fie's work is continued alongside her, because it's important to keep those plants alive and thriving.

He slumps a little in weariness, sighing at his desk where he sits on the SS Bloodsport.]


... Role call?


Who's, um. Who's missing?

Comments

[hollystrike]

Did you drink because you saw one too many terrible things or because you wanted to find out if the bits in Guinness tasted like chocolate chip?

[collegedropout]

My brother bet I couldn't drink a six pack.

[hollystrike]

[.........]

how old were you and how fast did you drink it

[collegedropout]

Nine or ten and very very fast.

And I didn't win the bet.

[hollystrike]

I hope he looked after you after that.

[collegedropout]

What, for my prepubescent hangover? He did. He complained about my tolerance and how gross I smelled to keep me occupied. But I think I kind of freaked him out by getting sick, so I guess the revenge was all mine to have.

[hollystrike]

[Hmm. Point in Dean's favour, then. Too bad there's so many against.]

You should have aimed for his shoes.

[collegedropout]

Should I be keeping this in mind for the future?

[hollystrike]

Are you still the type to get throwing up drunk? Sounds like there wouldn't be much of a future to keep in mind.

[collegedropout]

What, you're already counting me out for making poor life choices when it comes to booze?

surprise

[hollystrike]

Poor life choices in everything but booze, perhaps.

[Sup, Sam. She's now leaning in the doorway of wherever you are. Don't worry, she actually more or less came the mundane way. More or less.]

[collegedropout]

[Are you here to peek in on me in my room? Scandalous. He twists in his chair, giving her a little raise of the eyebrows and a frown -- not the best week for everyone, but it's been worse.]

You know, you could just enjoy a walk instead of ghosting around.

[hollystrike]

What makes you think I wasn't? Enjoying one. I just happened to end up here.

[And she falters, because the frown makes her think maybe she shouldn't have come. So she offers diffidently after a moment--] You did say you could use some company.

[So could she.]

[collegedropout]

[He huffs, but despite the exasperated sound, there's the beginnings of a smile.]

I really could. If I'm not gonna cramp your style, anyway.

[hollystrike]

It's completely impossible not to cramp my style. Still, I endure.

[She rounds the corner of his desk to perch on the edge.]