(no subject)

[birdsbirdsbirds]

Who: The intrepid crew of the SS Bloodsport!
Broadcast: Maybe?
Action: Probably!
When: Right now!

[SO HEY GUYS WHAT'VE YOU BEEN UP TO.

what's cooking on the Bloodsport? what fresh drama is unfolding?

has anyone thanked Robin for how the cargo hold doesn't smell like death and slowly-reversing decay anymore because that stuff was gross.]

Comments

[wordmiser]

[She wrinkles her nose at that, and debates in the doorway for a moment or two. Then decides he's probably right, and trundles into his office, dragging a pad of paper and some colored pencils with her.

She'd managed to procure them while in the waystation through... not entirely legitimate means. She'll just settle herself into one of his seats then, all right?]

[puro]

[He smiles as she moves to sit down, changing the song into something a little more relaxed. Music to colour to, one could say. ]

Are you settling in okay?

[He doesn't expect her to answer with words, so questions that can be answered with a nod or shake of the head it is.]

[wordmiser]

[She nods, opening up her pad and settling into broad, sweeping strokes.

Much better now that people weren't expecting her to do things. Laziness is her very favorite.

She glances up and bobs her head towards him. How's he doing, then? Still kicking and all?]

[puro]

That's good to hear.

[He gives a little shrug. ]

It's not where I want to be, but I can't complain. There are worst places to be.

[And he's been there. ]

[wordmiser]

[She watches him, lashes lowered over her eyes while she works.

How much worse, she wonders, than being trapped? She'd always managed to leave when things felt like this. It was... strange.

And made her question their seemingly benevolent captors.]

Why?

[puro]

Uh...why what? I...don't understand, I'm afraid.

[But hey, it's nice to hear her speak. ]

[wordmiser]

[Who are you looking for? Because places... they're just places, usually. Worst places or better places... they have a reason, right?

She'd asked the wrong questions. She knows that. She's so bad with words, they're so... useless. Wrong. Full of lies. This is why she doesn't like them.

Her eyes focus back on her sketch pad, hair falling to hide her blush of embarrassment and frustration. Talking was always so hard... Her hand gets jerky on the paper as she tries to come up with exactly what she means.]

...Who?

[It's more hesitant now, as she tries to feel her way to the inquiry. What made this place better? Who made that place worse?]

[puro]

[Manolo, for his part, remains patient with her, smiling softly and giving her the time to get the right word out. He doesn't rush or judge her. ]

I like the crew we have here, and I have made some friends. Tay, Cole.

...It's not home, it's not with the people I love, but it's bearable.

[wordmiser]

[She breathes out swiftly, a little like an uneasy horse, shifting her seat on the couch and settling in deeper.

She didn't understand that 'love'. It made her a bit uncomfortable. She had enjoyed being with a person, but he'd had his Boss Lady and she'd had her Boss Man and it just hadn't... worked. Not really. Not outside of stolen moments in secret places.

It had felt more like 'worry'. Jinx didn't like worry.]

Home?

[It's more a question to keep him talking than because she cares. Her fingers have moved onto detail work - smaller, sharper, motions. She only looks directly at him rarely, and for fleeting seconds.]

[puro]

[He watches her quietly for a moment, his smile soft, gentle, understanding. He knows she needs a distraction, and is happy to provide it. ]

I come from a small village called San Angel, in Mexico. Uh...that's on a planet called Earth. Never sure if people are from there or not.

Late late laaaaate

[wordmiser]

[She makes a small 'hmmm' noise that could be agreement or recognition or even just vaguely understanding.

She knew Earth. She usually even liked it. Jinx's pretty much finished, and she writes a small J in the corner of her drawing. She stands up, rips the drawing from her pad, and tosses it on his desk.

It's a drawing of him, looking just a little sad around the eyes, with a smile on his face and his guitar in his hands. If she hadn't turned out the way she did, she would clearly have been an artist.]

GOSH NEVER FORGIVEN GOSH

[puro]

[He blinks, surprised at the piece of art. His smile is soft, and he gives a nod. María always loved to draw. ]

Wow, that's pretty impressive.

[wordmiser]

[She tries to just blink at him blandly, but her lips quirk up at the corners just the tiniest bit.

It wasn't the kind of Art she preferred but it was still nice when people admired it.

That's enough of that sappiness, then. She turns and heads out of this office. Bye weirdo.]

[puro]

[Oh, and off she goes.]

I'll...uh, see you around?

[wordmiser]

[A little wave at him. Like she could possibly avoid it, on a tiny ship like this.]