single mingle!!!

[poetontheinside]

Who: SS Windrose
Broadcast: Maybe???
Action: SS Windrose
When: After the Shuffle

[So the Windrose has gained a few new members, who will undoubtedly all get along like a house space-ship on fire. Alright? Let's go! Ready, set... mingle!]

Comments

[poetontheinside]

"I'm not saying we should make some big earth club or somethin', but sure, yeah. Talking about home's gotta be worth something, right?"

[tothefly]

"You make it sound like we've already said goodbye." Like it's reminiscing, remembering a place they'll never see again. Maybe it's just her, but she's not planning on being here long enough to get nostalgic. Not that anyone ever plans to end up stuck in a place like this, but she hasn't been here long enough to resign herself to anything.

"You think we'll be here long enough to need a support group?"

[poetontheinside]

"Hey, you're the shrink here, not me." But he looks a little harder around the edges: he doesn't think that, can't think that. He's going back, they all are.

[tothefly]

"I thought we'd decided I wasn't a shrink, not really." He looks more grown up, with that expression, but seeing it Natasha's reasonably certain she likes the other look better. He's a competent cop, she's sure, but he doesn't seem like the sort of man who's meant to have sharp edges. Not like the kind she has.

"If you want my opinion, though, people cope in a variety of ways. If it helps keep you focused, talking about home seems like a pretty good idea."

[poetontheinside]

It's what has saved him from the temptation he's seen so many other cops fall into: laziness, bitterness, corruption, all of that shit. He can almost get it on some days, but then he's running after some crook and he remembers why he'd gone to the Academy in the first place.

"Yeah," he says, vaguely, "I guess." He rubs at his mouth, then wraps his hands around the edge of the sofa. "Nice to remember that stuff, ain't it? The good stuff."

[tothefly]

He moves a lot. Nervous tics or just old habits, touching his face, gesturing, rubbing his knees or the couch. Not very good at sitting still, she thinks. But that's okay. She can be, often is very deliberately still, but she still prefers to be moving.

"It is," she agrees simply. She could make it complicated, but this at least doesn't need a complicated answer. "If you need someone to remember it with, you know where to find me. Or you'll be able to find me pretty fast. It isn't exactly a big ship." A bit of a wry smile at that. She's likely going to be taking refuge in this room, more often than not.

[poetontheinside]

He would've been called hyperactive if that's the kind of word that had been used when he was a kid; as it stands he was just a pain in the ass, and he's made it his own.

"At least you got your office, right? What do I have, the vents?" He doesn't seem to mind, though-- he's smiling again, and he gets up from the couch.

[tothefly]

"The vents," she agrees with a wider smile, and there's that teasing glint in her eyes again as she stands with him, looking up. "And the engine room. And pretty much anywhere you want to be, I'm sure, as long as it isn't the bridge. Polly seems to have claimed that as her own. You can always come back, if you need a little space. I might be convinced to share."

[poetontheinside]

"You're right, I got it pretty good," he says, starting to make his way out of the room.

"Thanks, Natasha." He's smiling, but it's more serious than he's trying to let on. He's glad that their conversation went so well, that he won't have to feel quite so nervous around her from now on.

[tothefly]

He should still be a little nervous. She'll work on making him nervous, in all likelihood. Entertainment where she can find it, answers where she might not expect them. But he seems more or less like a known quantity at this point, and she appreciates that.

"Anytime, Ray," she replies, following him to the door and leaning in it with an amused look. "Thanks for the story. Come tell me another one sometime."