driftfleet | 'cause it's better than nothing

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'cause it's better than nothing

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Otono-Tachibana Makie

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(last updated: 1/25/19)

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[As the room itself faded away from view, the heavy air that spoke that they were in the South remained, maybe even thicker than before. Something that clung to the skin, almost as a liquid rather than a gas. Those sounds from outside were louder, less party but still of people, moving about their day and chatting as they went. Not that much of this is noticeable for Chekov, it just a faded background noise that was distracting from the main event: a series of TVs set behind a large glass window that he was currently pressed up against to try and get every detail of the video showing on the screens.

His stance was much shorter, not of a shorter adult but a child. Dirty hands on the glass either side of his head as he tried his best to ignore the angry bite of hunger in his stomach, the slight weariness of tiredness, and ache that ran through his body. But much like the people behind him on the street, it was also just a faint hum. Not while this show was on.

And it was one of the best episodes too, one he had seen replayed so many times, over and over again, cheap replays the TV store could throw on to try and entice people in to shop. But for him, it was a chance to see them again and again, to escape into a world that had heroes and did the right thing, who helped rather than hurt. To pretend that he could be part of that crew, or even better, one of the characters. To be a hero. To get away from having to fight to just survive. To steal to just feed himself. To find a safe place to sleep.

Because in the show, the heroes always won the day.

And life wasn’t like that.]

[Whatever Pavel was expecting, it wasn't that.

Or... some of it was, given what he was learned in his years of knowing Kitty, and now Remy and Kurt. Young Remy, hungry and living on the streets, is in line with his expectations. Pavel chooses not to comment on that, not now.]

That was the captain, correct? The one on the old Terran show.

It looked ridiculous.

[That got a laugh out of Remy, enough to tilt his head back and last a good few seconds before it trailed off into his normal chuckle.] Yeah, yeah, it be certainly a show of it's time. [His grin wide and bright, as while it was a tough memory, a tough part of his life, it didn't change what that show had done for him. It had given him some hope, even then things got bad.

You could always be a better person, always improve.] Ya'll really did an upgrade from it. 'nd oui, that was Kirk. Why I was so surprised when I first met Jim, looked nothin' like what I thought Captain Kirk would look like.

[It's heartwarming, in a strange way, knowing that this show about them, however silly and inaccurate it was, was a bright spot in Remy's life.]

Do you believe that Kirk was also upgraded? [Teasing, because... yes, the answer is a pretty obvious yes.] Was I upgraded?

Well, he's no Shatner... [Saying that joke more for himself as Remy doubted Chekov would get it. He amuses himself at least.]

Cheri, those were characters I idolized through a TV screen, ya m' friend, 'nd to me, that certainly be an upgrade. [A warm smile in place.] Ya ain't some flat character who I get to observe from afar 'nd see only snippets of a plot, here I get to actually know ya as a person. So, know ya been bounced 'round these kinda places a lot, 'nd this ain't ya home, but am glad ya did show up here so I got the chance to meet ya.

[Nope, that means nothing to Pavel. If Remy is amused, though, he isn't going to question it.

Pavel was primarily joking (or angling for a compliment). He certainly wasn't expecting Remy to say a thing that's nice and sincere!]

This has not been my favorite prison, but I do consider myself fortunate to have met you as well. [He glances over at the bottle of what looks to be good alcohol.] Now would be an ideal time for a toast to friendship, but I'm hesitant to touch anything else.

Edited 2019-01-28 04:06 (UTC)

[Remy's smile turned from that softer, more sincere one to something more wicked, a laugh to go along with it.] What's the fun in that if there be no risk? [Before offering to Chekov;] The bottle, [Pointing to the cognac.] Has a memory to it, the Hurricanes do not.

When you say it that way... [He looks between the cognac and the Hurricanes. Really, he's never been much of a mixed-drink guy.] ...To risk, I suppose.

[He picks up the bottle.]

[This time Chekov doesn’t get to be part of the scene, more observing it instead. He finds himself still in the South but in a well-dressed study, surrounded by walls of books and dark wood panelling, decorative antiques and other fineries, several expensive paintings that showed they were the styles of famous names. It just radiated of money, old money, but was also well worn in and used. It wasn’t just a show piece, it was a practical space that was used daily and treated like any other piece of the house, not just something to be pretty.

There was an older man there, appearing in his 40s or so, long brown hair tied back as he reached out an arm for another in the room.] Ah, my boy! Back! Successful! I knew ya could do it! [His accent thick with that Cajun twang to it, the hint of French heritage.

The arm had gone around the shoulders of a teen, maybe only 15, ruffling his hair as the both grinned. ] ’Course I did! [A young Remy countered, those so recognizable eyes bright with joy and a lot of pride. ] Told ya could beat ya easily, old man!

Ah! Knew if we let ya at this ya would only get be more of a loud mouth. [Another ruffle to his hair before his father let him go, turning to the third and final figure in the room; another man, around his mid-twenties who was standing off to the side and letting the two have a moment.] How’d it go?

Perfect, considerin’ who I was watchin’ after, [A flash of a smile as Henri, Remy’s older brother, sidestepped a wide swing of a punch from Remy, catching it so he too could throw an arm around his younger brother and hold him still. ] Goin’ to be a grand addition. Do gotta work on a few plannin’ bits, but punchin’ well ‘bove his age for his first job. [Remy for his part seemed not too worried about being held now that the joking was passed, still seeming caught up in the moment of what was happening.]

In that case, [ Jean Luc declared, moving back to the shelving behind his desk and pulling back several ‘books’ to show they were fake, hiding a small collection of glasses and drinks behind it,] While we wait for it to be official ‘nd get ya declared to the Guild, still time to celebrate, hein? [Pouring three glasses from a rather expensive looking bottle, it’s not quite the same label as the one Chekov had picked up, but an older edition. He offered one each to his sons before picking up his own, holding it up a moment as if to make a silent toast before bringing it to his lips.

A look to his father, then up to his brother to see him doing the same, Remy’s gaze went to the glass before taking a sip and,] Ugh! It’s gross! [He pulling a face as he looked down at the drink given to him, ignoring the laughter he caused from his family.]

Ya’ll get use to it. [Henri offered, finishing off his own glass in a long swallow.] Part of the Guild now, goin’ to get ‘nto all sorts of trouble, most be ‘caused by drink if ya ‘nything like me ‘nd Papa.[It causing a chuckle off to the side from Jean Luc as he settled himself back behind his desk.

Remy’s gaze moved up to both of the older men, then back to the drink, as if debating to finish it or not. What they had said, he was Guild now, a Thief, like them. And he wanted to be like them, they were amazing and brilliant, top class Thieves, and he wanted to make them proud. Prove he could keep up with them. That he wasn’t a waste of space and time. They took him in, he had to pay them back for that. A huff of a breath out before he raised the glass back up, cringing a little, but finishing it in one last swallow.]

[Those final sentiments--wanting to make people proud, wanting to prove worth--are immensely relatable, even if being a thief is, vocationally speaking, a far cry from being a Starfleet officer. Pavel looks back at Remy with a smile.] I see that your taste has improved with age.

[But, more seriously:] They seemed proud of you.

Edited 2019-02-01 03:22 (UTC)

They... [There was a sigh as Remy scratched at the back of his neck.] At the time, yeah. 'm father 'nd I haven't been close for 'while now. [It still hurt to talk about, even after all the years he's been away from home. And Remy did miss his family, including his father, but... every time he thinks of him he thinks about how much he has been used. That he had slowly changed from being a son to being a tool. Earlier days like that, those memories, were good, they just felt so long ago.

Remy then caught onto the happier side of the conversation.] Hey, all kids start with bad taste in drinks. Need time to mature to better stuff. Or, ya know, almost kill yaself on a certain drink 'nd can't even look at it again without feelin' sick.

[Pavel nods, but chooses not to push. Hopefully Remy knows that, if he ever feels a need to talk about anything, he has a willing listener.]

Not all kids. [Russians are born with great taste, thankyouverymuch.] I hope that this [referring to the bottle in his hand] isn't one of the drinks that almost killed you, because I fully intend to pour each of us a glass.

Yeah yeah, all ya Russian kids, raised on vodka 'nd borscht, right? Got more alcohol in ya blood stream than blood. [It all delivered with a chuckle to show he was joking.]

Ah, no, no, that one I had to get use to, got it too often as a joke. [A bit of a smile but also a shake of his head to go along with it, well aware that he shared a name with the drink.]

Yes, exactly. [Pavel appreciates both Remy's thorough understanding of Russian stereotypes and his disinclination to take them too seriously.] You're a smart man.

As far as jokes go, that isn't a bad one. [Free alcohol, right? And assuming there are glasses of some sort nearby, he will indeed pour them drinks.] Is it your given name? Remy?

I have m' moments.

[Remy offered a nod to the answer as he left Chekov to sort out the drinks.] Much as 'ny I was given. Don't remember it too well, I think I got it from the nuns at the cathedral. Use to try 'nd sneak in there durin' the nights. Was still hard floors, but was dry when rainin', warm 'nough durin' winter, 'nd cooler than outside durin' summer. They did try 'nd help, but none of us kids really trusted adults, were taught not to. Didn't give them a chance 'til I didn't have an option in it when m' father took me in. [It wasn't a sad story for him, for the most at least, just part of his past. After all, for him it turned out good, he got off the streets, was given a home and family. Remy couldn't say the same for others he had known, and that was the saddest part in it, all the other kids who... he had no clue if they survived or not.]

[Pavel nodded as he offered Remy a glass. It was a sad enough story to hear, but it was clearly something that Remy had put behind him.] What a strange name for a nun to come up with.

I'm glad that your situation improved... even if 'thief' is maybe not a profession that I would advise a child to consider.

[There was a shrug as a reply as he took a sip of the drink.] Ah, they seem to have a thing for namin' us after saints, seems I just got that one. Could had been worse, I could had gotten his full name. Remigius doesn't have the same ring to it.

'nymore than training to get 'nto Star Fleet 'nd possibly gettin' 'nto space battles later in life? [There was a bit of a smirk with his response back.] Look, no kid should have to steal to feed themselves, that ain't right, the deserve better, but it was the start I needed to get where I got to be. The kids we got trainin' in the Guild, their parents been with us long before they were 'round, it really a family business. They ain't forced to join up, but a lot wanna follow in their folks footsteps.

That you were named for a saint is even stranger. [Okay, maybe it wasn't stranger than if Remy was named after the cognac by nuns, but...]

I would not advise that either. [Smartass.] Fine, that's fine... I don't understand it [since scarcity wasn't an issue when Pavel was from and physical currency held little value, theft in general was difficult to understand] but I can respect tradition.

[It was ok, Remy didn't expect most to understand it, for them being a thief was a bad thing. And, yes, Remy wasn't blind to the fact it was 'against the law' and all that, he just had to be morally gray considering his line of work.] Ah, don't worry too much 'bout it, cher. Not like really had a chance to practice it much 'round these parts, just small stuff on some of our stops. 'nd ain't like 'm goin' to try 'nd corrupt ya 'nto doin' 'nything like that now. [A bit of a grin and chuckle to go along with that.]

Though I 'magine ya would be brilliant at the more electronic 'nd computer side of it all, hackin' 'nd all that.

I promise that the possibility of being corrupted by you is the least of my concerns in the fleet. [Pavel had considered a number of morally gray individuals friends over the course of the last several year; Remy wouldn't be the exception or even the worst of them.

He smiled sheepishly--perhaps even guiltily--at the suggestion of hacking. His less-than-legal hobbies were meant to remain a secret!] Aha... I imagine that I would be.

I donno if to take that as a compliment or an 'nsult. [Remy lifting to place a hand over his heart, as if he had been struck there and in mock pain, but also smiling at the same time.]

When in doubt, please always assume that I mean what I say as a compliment.

[He wandered back over to the Starfleet insignia, equal parts curious about the bracelet next to it and reluctant to engage in further snooping.]

Am I meant to touch more things, do you think?

Ya welcome to do whatever ya want, cher, that why this be a party, it's all suppose to be fun. [Remy then offered a shrug.] True, not all memories be fun ones, but I can only do so much with that.

[He then pointed a finger back towards the area Chekov first entered the room from,] Thing be, there be nothin' stoppin' ya from goin' if ya wanna. [Then a bit of a chuckle.] I never made it so people can't leave when they wanna, just no one tries the door. [His grin brightening.] Ya know, found that always a funny lesson to teach the kids at the Guild, they always lookin' for the flashy way to break 'nto a place, they never try the most simple way, 'til ya tell them 'bout it. Not always 'bout thinkin' outside the box.

[Pavel looked suitably sheepish once the door was pointed out to him.] It would be rude, probably, to stay and risk finding a memory that you would like to keep hidden. You have been a good host--thank you.

Be it rude or not, ya good company, so ain't a worry cher. [Plus it seems these rooms do tend to make Remy more open and sharing than he is outside of them. Maybe it's just part of the persona he gains during it all, or the more relaxed location the room was set in, but he was certainly less cagey in it.]

I would say always welcome, but lets make that for the ships or bar rather than m' head, hein?

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