04th landing . video, locked from felix gaeta

[landfall]

So.

What do you guys do when you're really mad at someone?

Productive and unproductive tactics welcome. I also enjoy colorful stories.

[ Private to Felix Gaeta, later ]

[ Okay, it's time to confront this. She's calm. She's good. She's going to say something elegant, and Felix is going to respect her, and they will be friends.

Here goes! ]

You're stupid.

[ wow not as planned ]

Comments

[deshabille]

That's a terrible and boring defense.

[landfall]

He's really good at being a victim.

[deshabille]

[Her lips twist in distaste.]

Then hit him until he realizes that doesn't get you anywhere.

[landfall]

I don't think that'll help.

[deshabille]

Then hit something else, if he's not going to rise. If you're angry on two different levels, the two of you, it won't work, you'll just get angrier.

[landfall]

He's angry, he's just - an idiot.

[deshabille]

But you're being angry in different ways. That's what I mean. Don't give him a reason to think he's more of a victim.

[landfall]

He knows he's not a victim! He's just stupid!

[deshabille]

But he's better at words than you are, isn't he.

[landfall]

...yes.

The hell I would have followed me into a mutiny.

[deshabille]

Right.

Would you be better at words than you are right now if you had a chance to hit something?

[landfall]

If I hit Felix, I think I'd get really good at words like 'sorry'.

[deshabille]

I don't think you should be quite that forgiving just yet. Whether you hit him or not.

I meant hitting something else. To make you less angry. Cooler.

[landfall]

You volunteering?

[deshabille]

Yes.

[landfall]

Where?

[deshabille]

Your choice. I'm not partial.

[landfall]

My place.

[ It doesn't really have a gym. This isn't really a problem. ]

[deshabille]

Shortly.

[And she will be there shortly, as soon as she's finished a couple of other things she has to get done this evening. A couple of quick knocks on the door, and the possibly arrogant assumption that Racetrack will know exactly who it is.]

[landfall]

[ The door is heavy, metal, opened by spinning a wheel in the center until the lock clunks open. ]

Come in! [ This is shouted, so as to be heard through the thickness of the wall. Racetrack is in sweatpants and a zippered sweatshirt, nothing but a sports bra underneath. She barely wears anything but sports bras these days. Seems that caution dies hard.

When Mal walks in, there's going to be a baseball sailing straight at her, thrown from the far side of the room, across the table that's set out in the middle of the room, between three walls of bunks.

[deshabille]

[She opens the door and - well, she does catch it, but not as well as she might ordinarily, because she's busy closing the door. She also doesn't see the ball, she just hears it, so her hand zips out to catch it before her head turns. When she does look, her brow furrows, but she grins after a moment anyway, tossing it from one hand to the other.]

Hello to you too.

[landfall]

Nice job! I thought you'd catch it.

[deshabille]

Your confidence in me's inspiring.

. . . Are we playing a game?

[landfall]

...we could be?

[deshabille]

If you'd like to play a game, we can. Or fight. Or something else entirely. I'm flexible.