|Scrap Metal and Canteloupe|
|Summary:||An interlude aboard the Faux, where the crew relaxes, discusses the relative merits of canteloupe and romaine, and jobs to come. (somewhat, though not very, risque')|
|Cast:||Ace, Stars, Swiftfoot|
Crew Quarters <DCV Faux>
Metallic gray walls surrond the space of this room with a sort of hypnotic teasing effect on the eye, proabaly from the silver and black threads of color that are mixed in with the walls. The floor appears to be made of a dark cherry wood, but walking on it one can feel a bit of give, sort of like walking on a tarten track or the inside of a gym. Inset lighting counteracts the dark color scheme of things and gives light to the crew's conviences. Single beds line the side walls and are spaced apart by shelves and drawers to hold personal affects. In the back of the room is the galley and off to its right is the alcove leading to the bathrooms. View ports looking out into space line the walls an give a less claustrophobic feeling.
They say the average housecat sleeps twenty hours a day. Apparently, Stars is trying to prove some felis domesticus in his background - he's just now bothering to twitch, peering up over the edge of the bed with a magnificent yawn, not fully cognizent yet. The fact that he's wearing something other than his usual bed fare indicates he's been up at least once - but hey, naps are good, right?
"Hey, lazyass, get up." Swiftfoot's voice floats over from the direction of her bunk - which, while she may not be using it to sleep in, is certainly more convenient to lounge back on. Especially if one's worried about a late-sleeping companion.
"Hrrf. Look who's talking. Blanket thief." Stars shifts, stretching languidly as he turns to put feet on the floor, reaching up to put earrings in order - "We still on trriple-ninerr?" The big cat flicks an ear experimentally, then focuses on the ginger female - pausing for a moment, oddly, looking at her for a long few seconds, with a wry, warm, odd grin.
Swiftfoot snorts, one eyeridge quirking upward. "Me? Chief, you'rre the pirrate, and it shows." Her head tilts slightly to the side as Stars eyes her, her drawing pad forgotten in her lap for the moment. "Yeah, I think we arre. What's so bloody funny, by the way?"
"nothin'. I like looking at you, prretty." Stars yawns again, levering himself up carefully onto his feet, "Oog. Sorre. Mileage is catching up to me, apparrently." He heads for 'his' locker - "And I'm not a pirrate. I'm an acquisitions prrofessional."
"Mileage my ass," Swiftfoot says, then grins. "You'rre not much olderr than I am, chief. Cmon. Get overr it alrready." She chuckles and flips the drawing pad closed, then sets it beside her on the bunk. "You'rre lazy is what you arre."
Stars crouches, "Well, yeah. This is the good life - so I'm taking advantage of it a little." He flashes a grin back at the female as he rummages. "Bet I've ben shot morre often than you have. Entitles me to being crrotchety and grrumpy."
"Is no fair comparing scars," Ace chides as she enters the room, "Made mine go away...and he is only old if he creaks getting out of bed."
"Meh," the ginger female retorts. "You just need to learrn to dodge betterr." She winks, one ear flicking in a mischievous expression. "Though I'll admit I've neverr had a grrenade explode in close prroximity to me. You've got me on that one." Swiftfoot shrugs vaguely, then grins as Ace enters, nodding. "Y'know, sorrta wish I could make mine go away. Neat trrick."
Absently, the big cat snorts - "I like you scarrs and all, prretty." He comes up with a small box, standing easy - "And I do crreak. Quietly. Just prrivately. I save my bitching and moaning forr company." Stars heads over to Swifty, just tossing the box the last foot, with a wink - and then settling down next to her, unbidden. "You missed Ace's frriend - crrusty guy that can't play carrds."
"Wish very much I could oblige you," Ace says with a sigh, "But the Drakarians, they were very angry when they found out we had used it and so they destroyed it and the ship it was in. Is very much a shame that the technology was lost." She goes to the fridge and grabs an apple to munch on, "Henry Morgan," she nods in answer to Stars mention of the card player. "Wants us to help him move the Junkyard."
Swiftfoot grins and butts her head against Stars' shoulder playfully, but stops as soon as Ace speaks of the Junkyard, staring at the Kapitan blankly. "Uh... move? The Junkyarrd?" The female's head tilts slightly to the side. "How in Brrakirr's name would we accomplish that? It was humungous the last time I was therre."
"Hand trrucks." Stars nods, quite serious. "Yup. And worrksuits. We'rre going to brring it into the hold, one piece at a time. Getting paid by the ton."
"Will take awhile," Ace says, nodding at Stars' answer, "But I think it is worth the effort. Get the crew in shape as well."
"Demarr's blessed wings, you two arre serrious," Swiftfoot says, then laughs. "I could use a bit of a worrkout though, I suppose. Put something besides sinew and furr on my skinny self." She blinks and looks down in her lap then, where the box that Stars tossed to her landed, her expression faintly surprised. "You don't have to go buying me stuff, you know," she chides the big male, looking up with a faint smile across her muzzle.
Stars shrugs. "Who says I did? Forr all you know, I stole it, at gun point, in a darring daytime rraid on La Terre, escaping just ahead of the LTDF." He leans over to rest his head on Swiftfoot's shoulder, unable to really keep a straight face - or butt, as his tail flicks in amusement. "Hope you werre serrious about the plasma cutterrs. Morrgan was talking about hacksaws."
"Yes he does," Ace responds to Swifty with a nod, "Is part of the whole relationship thing. He is obligated by law. Is in the Women's Handbook. Chapter Three, I believe." She takes a bite of the apple and hops up to sit on the counter, obviously in a rare smartass mood today.
Swiftfoot wrinkles her snout, her whiskers bristling out. "I didn't get a handbook," she grumps, then chuckles and flicks an ear. She blinks at Stars then, one eyeridge quirking upward. "The LTDF arre prretty bad-ass, man. We barrely made it away frrom them. I'm imprressed." She looks back down at the box in her lap, and starts picking it open delicately, almost hesitantly.
"I am the most dangerrous sentient in the arrm." Stars yawns. "Voted it fourr yearrs rrunning by a panel of independant victims." He peers over at Ace, but hey, Swifty's shoulder's comfortable, and he doesn't raise his head. "I rreally want a copy of that handbook. The guy one only has fourr pages, and mostly talks about beerr, naps, and peeing on things."
"Hm," Ace says thoughtfully, "Could be Demarians, they do not get a book. Will have to ask Snowmist when I see her next."
"It's not fairr," Swiftfoot says, wrinkling her snout again. "If I don't get a book, how am I supposed to manipulate the male of the species in the most effective mannerr? Serriously." She gives a faux-sniff, her expression going blank as she finally gets the box open. "Ohh... it's lovely," the ginger Demarian says, rubbing her cheek against the top of Stars' head. "Thank you."
Stars shrugs. "It's not much." He actually seems embarrassed, one ear going back. "Just wanted to say thank you, rreally - and the stones looked like you." He finally wraps an arm around the ginger female, and peers over at Ace. "... damnit. That's that female conspirracy thing I keep hearring about."
"Will lend you mine, then," Ace says, "Is what drooks are for, da?" She peers over towards the box, "Well? Let's see, da? Or is it private?"
Swiftfoot winks at Stars and rubs her cheek against the top of his head again, then reaches into the box to pluck out the contents, holding it up for inspection. It's a bracelet, white gold from the looks of it, with six star sapphires set into it, likely lab-created and not natural. It's not a terribly expensive piece, all said, but it's still quite pretty.
Embarrassed indeed, the big cat finally raises his head, flicking his eyes over at Ace, then back to Swiftfoot. ".. hrr. Told you, it's not much." Ace smiles and nods her approval, "Is beautiful, da," she says, "Well chosen, Stars."
"S'perrfect," Swiftfoot says, laying the bracelet over her wrist - the one that doesn't already have jewelry on it, anyway - and holding it out to Stars. "You gonna do the honorrs?" she inquires, grinning a bit.
He reaches up, and, of course, fumbles around with the clasp until, by some miracle, it actually goes together. There's always a miracle involved, when you come down to it. "Hmmph." He glances up at Swiftfoot, and offers a sheepish flash of teeth. "What the hell, rright?" He nuzzles her cheek for a moment, before leaning back comfortably, and looking across to Ace. "Had to do /something/ with that bonus. You fixed this Morrgan guy's ship beforre?"
"Got his antique defense grid online during the Birthright War," Ace explains, "Almost killed us just getting it running again, but would have been worse if the Nall fleet had reached us. Got it going just in time to watch it decimate the Nall fleet. Was very impressed."
Swiftfoot smiles at Stars, shaking her wrist experimentally and eyeing the bracelet again before looking over at Ace. "So... we'rre serriously going to cut the Junkyarrd into pieces and move it? Forr the rrecorrd, I've got about as much idea of how to use a plasma cutterr as Mika did." She chuckles and flicks an ear.
Stars shrugs. "don't look at me - I just lift heavy things." He rests his head back on the female's shoulder, still amused. "And shoot things that look at eitherr of you two funny."
"Cannot keep this up, tovarisch," Ace says to Stars, shaking her head as she chuckles, "Nyet, we are not moving it piece by piece. They are going to try to use Spindrives from multiple ships to jump it to Tomin Kora."
"Was gonna say, that'd take us yearrs," the female says, her snout wrinkling up. "Was also going to say that therre's got to be a betterr way." Swiftfoot chuckles and shakes her head. "So how's that going to worrk? Severral ships could, I guess theorretically, crreate a big enough field to pull the whole Junkyard thrrough into trransition space, and hopefully back out again on the otherr side. Hopefully."
Stars closes his eyes. "Mm. Science. Say it again. Smarrt females arre sexy." Nope, it's physically impossible for the big fellow to be serious at the moment, it seems.
"I steer," Ace says, summing up her piloting skills, "So...da," she nods, agreeing with whatever theory it was that Swifty was explaining.
Swiftfoot blinks at Stars and Ace. "What? Cmon, it's not -that- complicated..." She looks from one to the other, then chuckles. "Okay, I'll quit being smarrt then. Kindly find me a brrick to hit myself with?"
The big male cracks an eye.. "No? Vegetables arren't sexy." He speaks patiently, as though explaining it to a youngling - but his expression's mischevious. "Except forr romaine lettuce, forr some rreason. Serriously - I'm just glad /you/ underrstand it - the fact you do makes me morre comforrtable with the notion."
"No more caesar's salads for you," Ace says, tossing the core of the apple in the recycler.
Swiftfoot blinks at Stars, then snorts, reaching up to whap the top of his head lightly with one paw. "Ass," she says, then laughs at Ace's quip. "Yeah, good idea. I have a harrd enough time fending him off as it is."
Stars owches, laughing, and retreating. "Hey - I've been a perrfect gentleman - you said you yourrself." He sniffs, flicking a tail as he stand. "And damnit on the salads - yourr ceasarr's good." If a demarian could pout - he does, but certainly can't hold it long, not while laughing. Instead, he heads for the fridge - "You two want anything? I'm peckish. Go figurre."
"Will never be able to look at greens the same way," Ace grumbles.
"Nice," Swiftfoot says, chuckling and shaking her head. "Chalk one up forr Starrs, then." She blinks at the big male then, one ear laying halfway back. "Um... I could eat, surre. Again, go figurre. I don't think I could put on weight if I trried. It's annoying."
Stars sets about rummaging through the fridge, crouching to peer into it at a more respectable height - "So this one time, we get his one kit in ourr brrigade. Rreally nice sorrt - you know the type. Turrns out he was vegisexual. Had a thing for canteloupes." He /seems/ serious. Really. "... that cheese anything special?" He pokes around, amidst a certain clinking.
Stunned. That was the only way to describe the look on Ace's face at Stars' words...and then she just dissolves into laughter, unable to answer any questions about cheese, milk or any other dairy product in the fridge.
Swiftfoot, as well, seems speechless. She blinks at Stars, one eyeridge quirking upward, then falls back onto her bunk in a helpless gale of laughter, the end of her tail twitching contently.
Stars glances up, keeping a mostly straight face. "Hey, don't look at me. We found him naked, furr coverred in sticky stuff, and smelling like melon. He was happy - we couldn't eat frruit salad forr a yearr."
There's nothing but laughter from the ginger female. She's got one paw pressed to her forehead, and the other one holding her belly. "Ow... ow..." Swiftfoot's gone then, another gale of laughter overtaking her.
Stars comes out with a leftover chunk of dribgib (how it's survived this long is anyone's guess), a block of cheese, and... a bottle of root beer. Yes, root beer. He pads back to Swifty, grinning. "... you should have seen the bananas. That's all I'm sayin'."
"Wha...?" Yup, that's the only word she manages to get out before she's gone again. "Cut it out," she pants, still laughing. "My sides hurrt..."
"Stop..." Ace says, shaking her head as she tries to catch her breath, "I like my fresh produce..."
Stars sips at that root beer, grinning rather widely. "You starrted it. Forr the rrecord." He settles down next to Swifty, putting the bottle on the floor, and watching the female as he starts in on his cheese - her laughter, it seems, has him smiling still.
Swiftfoot trails off from outright laughter into a series of snorts and chuckles. It's most unladylike, really. She's obviously trying not to start laughing again. "Ow..." she complains, both paws going to her belly. "I haven't laughed like that in... forreverr..."
"Hoop," Ace says, shaking her head as she gets control of herself, "Neither have I...."
"so I /am/ good forr something." Stars noshes on a bit of dribgib. "I've been wonderring, rreally. Heh." His grin remains mischievous, and warm.
Swiftfoot snorts and thwaps Stars with her tail, still chuckling. "You'rre good forr plenty. Comic rrelief just seems to be one of your strrong points. Rright up therre with killing people, I suppose." She winks, then sits back up, sniffing at the dribgib a bit, rude as that may be. There's benefits to familiarity, after all.
"And if you think I did not wish to hear any further details concerning your vegetable fetishes," Ace says dryly, "I certainly wish to hear even less about what Swifty considers you good for."
Stars offers the plate to the female, accepting his thwapping magnanimously. ".. bedwarrming." He grins across at Ace. "I'm apparrently excellent at it." He flicks his eyes back to Swiftfoot. "I'm not enough of a temptation forr anything else." That's teasing, not serious in the least.
"Hey!" Swiftfoot exclaims, then laughs. "I'm a lady, thank you verry much. Give me a brreak herre." She blinks, then picks a morsel of dribgib off the plate and pops it into her mouth, chewing thoughtfully.