driftfleet | one ☀ video / action

Entry tags:

one ☀ video / action

Who: Mal
Broadcast: Fleetwide
Action: SS Caprine
When: After the shuffle!

[The first thing she did once she got a good handle on exactly what was going on - which, for the record, she did not need help with, she is a perfectly capable and independent adult vampire, it's fine - was dive into the engine room and begin to pull things apart. There is knowledge brimming out of her mind that she has no origin for or control over, it's chaotic and it's mad and she loves it.]

[She broadcasts from the engine room, looking at a wrench admiringly. She's messy and a little greasy, but it's a suave sort of messy and greasy. Gods only know how she manages this.]

I'd be interested to know how many people are actually upset about this. Being here. Because I know all sorts of things now that I never could have known before, and that's worth something, I think.

Also, have there ever been any riots here? I think I could do with a good riot sometime soon.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[She nods, her eyes narrowing as she focuses on the wrench lying where she's thrown it. Waiting is one of her strong suits, being a predator, while at the same time patience is nothing she's good at, being Mal. She can easily see herself getting caught up in the whirlwind of this place, the personalities and the places of space. She knew from the moment she woke up on the Marsiva that she was about to be drunk out of her mind on sheer information.]

[It's a good thing, she thinks very solemnly, that her sergeant is here to keep her on the straight and narrow.]

I need coffee. You should come with me and have a cup. We can make a plan.

[She would prefer tea, but these ships seem limited in options. Actually, she didn't find any coffee on the Windrose, either (she checked, because she always checks now, in case Mal ends up needing it).]

Do you have enough?

[To share, that is. And for the future. Because she will absolutely make finding beans a priority otherwise.]

I think so. I haven't counted, or anything. But there's a lot.

[Which she was surprised about. You can't grow beans in space. But it's all for the best, really, because she doesn't want to have another embarrassing incident.]

Come on. This way.

They gave you more? Or is it yours?

[Because if it was provided for her by whoever kidnapped them, then maybe it's not something they have to worry about. But Polly will still keep an eye out.

She'll also be looking around curiously as she follows Mal - this ship is bigger than hers.]

Not sure. It was just sort of there, in the kitchens.

[And ordinarily she'd question it more, much more, but as it stands coffee is one of those things that you simply don't question. If you do, someone might steal it out of your pack, for a completely random example, and then you're caught having taken advantage of the only thing standing between you and a good old-fashioned rampage.]

[This ship may not have the traditional torches and pitchforks, but it is, in Mal's esteemed opinion, too small for a traditional rampage. Not cramped, exactly, it's not the newest ship out there and thus has experienced some growth, but she still finds herself ducking her head on occasion, weaving her way through narrow doors and too-small passages. The kitchen itself is nothing to speak of, sparse, with slim futuristic counters and a coffeepot simmering in the corner. Mal begins to rummage through the cupboards for mugs.]

I don't know if there's sugar. I don't think there's sugar. Do you need sugar?

I don't need sugar.

[She'd prefer sugar, as well as milk, but it's not like Borogravians in general ever got a chance to learn to be picky. Just having something warm to drink right now would be nice, actually.

She'll let Mal handle the coffee-making on her own, and instead finds herself a seat, watching her.]

There's no coffee on the Windrose. I checked.

Hmm.

[She pours a cup for Polly, a bigger cup for herself. Cupping the warmth of the mug in her hands, she takes a sip and feels - calmer, more collected. Like she's just taken a great big bite of neck. It's reassuring that some things don't change, even in space.]

Maybe it's for me. So I don't go - [She makes a face that communicates complete insanity.]

[Polly doesn't mind the smaller cup, and at first just holds it in her hands, comforted by the warmth spreading into her fingers. It's not quite saloop, it doesn't have the right smell, but it's still familiar.

And if you're going to have proper soldier talk, you need a warm mug of something. Milit'ry rules.]

So they know about that. [which is a bit worrying - what else do they know? - but it's not like they can change it.] It might mean we can get them to give us other things, too.

As long as we make ourselves need other things? That's not a very good idea, Sarge.

[She is an expert at needing things. It hardly ever works out nicely for everyone involved. Not that she really wants to talk about it, it's a bit embarrassing, but if Polly's going to just bring it up.]

There's got to be a better way to get out of here. Maybe if we find someone to threaten?

If we already do need it, Corp. But you're right, I'd prefer not to.

[She's going to try every other way first - but considering where they are, it's a bit difficult not to think long term.]

Yeah, if we find someone. Either they're good at hiding, or they're good at blending in.

[That's. A little bit of her frustration showing through there. She'd been covering it up well so far, she thought.]

[Well, Mal doesn't know what to do about that. She's perfectly content when Polly is, and when Polly seems to know what to do, but when her sergeant is lost for options, she feels a certain amount of disconcerted.]

[Fiddling with her mug, she keeps her eye on the doorway - old habits dying hard.]

And until we do? [And if we don't?]

We keep looking.

[That much she's sure about, at least.]

You're good at finding out secrets, right?

[At this she preens, inspecting her nails for dirt or grime, of which there is neither.]

You should know.

[Well, less Polly and more everyone else. But still.]

I don't think they'll be as easy to spot as Shufti.

[On the other hand, maybe whoever's behind all this will decide to cook in front of them and use 'sugar' as a swear. Or the equivalent of that for spotting enemies.]

Possibly not. But maybe they're cocky. It seems as though they've been doing this for a while and haven't gotten caught yet.

[Mal knows cocky intimately. She's the cockiest of them all.]

You don't think they'll show up, do you? Shufti or Wazzer or any of them?

I don't know.

[Well, obviously. The question is, does she want them to? It seems cruel to want someone else to be kidnapped, but they could probably do with some more friends in this place.]

I don't even know why they picked us. [Well, Mal definitely knows how to be interesting, so that's probably why her.] It'd be good to have them with us. Shufti's got her baby, though, and I can't see them bringing little Jack here.

[When she mentions Jack, of course Mal's mind jumps to Paul. Surely no one would bring him here. It seems evil, somehow, to draw him from somewhere that he's finally happy and can do as he likes.]

[Then again, that's what they've done with her, isn't it? She was happy, before. Admittedly a great portion of her happiness had to do with who she was with, not what she was doing, but still. Is that what it's come to? Are they facing down evil?]

[Honestly, Mal still isn't sure she believes in it. But if that's what it is, there's no one she'd rather be facing it with than Polly Perks.]

[She adopts a bit of a swagger (yes, you can swagger while standing still, and here's the living proof).]

Obviously they've picked us because we're the roughest, toughest boys around, Ozz.

[She laughs at that.]

They should have given us extra socks, then, Mal.

[...But okay, so they're sort of famous, at least among the right people. Or maybe infamous is more right.]

They don't seem to care if you're a woman here, though.

You should have packed extra.

[Infamous is a good thing to be, in Mal's opinion. She goes a little distant and distracted after a moment, shrugging at Polly's next words.]

Do you think you're going to go back to dresses and things?

They didn't let me keep my pack.

[She hadn't been carrying it at the time, which is probably the problem. Although she doesn't really need a tent here, or most of the other things, even if it'd be comforting in case of an emergency.

She considers that question for a moment. She likes dresses well enough, but--]

Trousers are easier to walk in. Skirts just get caught on things, so those uniforms were always a bad idea.

They were. They were very impractical.

[Which is a damn crime, a soldier who's impractical. Too bad all the higher-ups and the ruperts didn't seem to understand that. Or maybe they did, and that was part of why they did it: to prove that the Ins-and-Outs weren't really soldiers after all, just look at them.]

[It's too much to think about right now, so Mal chooses, after a moment, not to.]

Maybe we can find different kinds of trousers. I heard something about "jeans".

Jeans? What are those?

[Because yes, different kinds of trousers are definitely to be preferred to being angry about ruperts that are not even here.]

I could do with some more clothes. At least another shirt.

[And underclothes, which she's not mentioning to Mal.]

A type of trousers. [Like, duh.] I think they're extra-durable? Not sure. I still haven't seen one. [So they could be mythical for all she knows.]

Maybe we'll get to stop somewhere and get things. But to do that, we have to play along and get money, and that seems . . .

[Icky? Icky.]

We don't have a choice about playing along, do we? [what with them potentially always being watched] Might as well get extra-durable trousers out of it.

[still icky, but why not be practical about it? It's what Polly does best.]

Fair enough point. Maybe if we get the trousers and manage to escape somehow, we can bring new trouser technology home to Borogravia.

[Blouse would probably be thrilled.]

[action]

[action]

[action]

[action]

[action]

[action]

[action]

[action]

[action]

[action]

[action]

[action]

[action]

[action]

[action]

[action]

[action]

[action]

[action]

[action]

[action]

[action]

[action]

[action]

[action]