driftfleet | (no subject)

Who: The burrito of death (aka Tek)
Broadcast: Audio, open to the fleet
Action: Bloodsport cargo hold
When: Broadcast day after the attack - Action open all month

[this one is sent in audio only, because goodness no one needs to see his current face--though, his voice isn't right either. it's too light, too delicate, and there is a little too much purr to it. especially without the aid of a video feed, it's hard to tell whether the speaker is male or female or monster at all.

and the tone is nothing but flat.]

Everyone is safe and accounted for? Nothing is entirely amiss? Wonderful.

[he isn't bitter about no one asking about his absence at all. nope. not one bit.]

So, I guess it's about time to start returning to our old routine, hmm? Everyone ready for things to go back to normal? Especially with such a good distraction from our recent little 'vacation home,' I know I sure am ready to forget about everything that just happened.

[this weapons-grade sarcasm could burn a hole through the floor.]

Especially with all of this new spending cash. ...Have you all checked your accounts today? The bonuses are already rolling in.

Isn't it wonderful.

[this sorry creature feels sickened and infuriated and doesn't have the strength to vent it any other way. so, a pissy broadcast it is!

and for anyone wandering the Red Fish any time soon, he can be found actually sitting up now. still wrapped in blankets and misery, but he's at least upright. it's a step.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[She's overwhelmed with rage when he goes there, drags it that low like he has any right to compare her to shemlen. She spent half her life hearing horror stories of humans doing exactly that to her people, of Templars hunting down Dalish mages and killing them for no reason other than their magic and point ears, and death would be the mercy for an elf caught be a shem.

Like his had before, her hand shoots out towards him. Unlike Tek's earlier move, though, Jove's hand cracks against the side of Tek's face hard. She stares him down, steel in her eyes and the flash of what could be hate. When she speaks her voice is low, cold, and calm.]

Never compare me to shemlen. I was trying to protect that town, and I regret my actions caused you harm, but that is too far.

Caused me harm? ...You killed me.

[the potential for retaliation, the animal instinct to strike back, is right there. it's in the gleam of his eyes, the sudden vicious tension when she hits him... but there's also something cathartic enough about the whole thing to stop him.

this is what he wanted to see. there's just as much anger as before, but instead of snapping and growling, his voice lowers out into a hiss.]

How different is it, really? You ran unquestioningly into the fray, just like every band of hunters that have been destroying the pillars of my kind.

You vaunt about your persecuted people, when you're nothing but a hypocrite.

And I was wrong!

[Finally, she raises her voice, the ice is gone and replaced with fire.]

It was stupid and I regret every second of it, but none of what happened was driven by hatred. All I wanted was to protect people from what I thought was a mindless rampaging animal, and I was wrong. The men who persecuted your kind, did they tell you that? That they were wrong to do what they did?

[and this time, he doesn't immediately snap back. his proverbial hackles are still raised, and he's guarded, but he's pausing in his attack.

he's considering, and his eyes tick back and forth between hers, measuring. searching her expression for the little details. maybe gauging the truth of it, or the depth, or the weight. maybe simply waiting to see if she'll continue.]

[His silence tempers her anger, and again Jove sits back, puts some space between them when she should leave and not look back.]

I don't know if you expected me to come here to plead my case about what I chose to do, but that was never my intention. I was wrong, and it never should have happened but it did. Now all I can do is make sure it never happens again and that whatever this is [she waves a hand between them, a gesture that takes them both in.] can be salvaged to something that won't be us living in fear of each other on the same ship. I like you, as stupid as that may be. I can't just leave things like they were.

[he looks suddenly tired, after that... which may mean that the fight is over.

he sits back with it--the tension bleeding unevenly out of his shoulders as he settles--and he rumbles to himself.

for a minute more, he continues to deliberate. and when he finally reaches some sort of endpoint in his head, he glances away, somewhere off to the side.]

...I wonder which option they are hoping for the most.

[She's still a little wary, but it's impossible not to notice the change in the atmosphere. She feels as exhausted as Tek looks, and when she looks around it's clear this wouldn't have been the safest place during a space fight and-

Really, any time the concern for him stops, it would be nice. As it stands, constantly worrying about his well being has only lead to problems for Jove.]

I'm not sure I know what you mean. What who is hoping for?

[he points upward, vaguely, indicating some nebulous space above them.]

Them. ...The powers that--for the time being--be.

Or our audience. Take your pick.

[She actually hadn't thought of that, in part because their little audience is a thing she does her best not to think of more often than she has to.]

I'm more interested in what you're hoping for.