06th landing . video, spam

[landfall]

[ video ; a few hours before the end of port ; open ]

[ Red eyes and messed-up hair, guess who just woke up. ]

Elena! Where the frak - are you in the city. Are you dead. Don't be dead.

[ added soon after, also open: ]

Dean! What did you do with Elena's pants?

[ spam ; last few hours of port ]

[ Racetrack is buying out every single astrological sign thing from a kitschy little shop. All of it. Pillows. Jewelry. Notebooks. Hairbands.

This is probably near a beach somewhere. ]

[ video ; after port ]

Nothing like seeing a real live planet...

I'm awake, if anyone was worried.

Anyone want to go run a few miles?

Comments

private

[deshabille]

Yes. And the height.

[A pause, as though she's evaluating something.]

It was the opposite of what I know, but not bad for all that. And there was a lot of food.

[surfaceshine]

[Dean rolls his eyes and blows out a breath, but he does, in the end, start at the beginning.]

I was checking the paper, found some reports that stuck out to me. Police calls. Some stuff that read familiar to me. I've dealt with shit like this before, okay?

So I go down to stake it out - second night in, and I'm down in this stupid nightclub, and there's Elena. I hang around, check a guy that "had too much to drink" while his friends are helping him out the door, and wouldn't you know it something's had too much to drink of him, too.

She went out the back, I went out the front, we met over her next meal in an alley.

private

[surfaceshine]

Then I didn't do it fast enough.

private

[deshabille]

Neither did I.

[A short, sharp strike of emotion. Then it's gone like it never existed.]

I told you. Don't argue.

private

[surfaceshine]

Did you let her off the Barge?

private

[deshabille]

No. But I knew she'd left.

private

[surfaceshine]

Then you don't argue with me.

private

[deshabille]

Why not?

private

[surfaceshine]

Same question to you.

private

[deshabille]

Because you found her.

private

[surfaceshine]

It's what I do.

private

[deshabille]

Well, it's what I am.

private

[surfaceshine]

Yeah, in a place that exports folk songs and soldiers that have to look like guys to be taken seriously.

This is my world, or close enough. I've been to that city. This is what I do and where I do it.

private

[deshabille]

That's not -

[She snarls, frustrated.]

Fine. Never mind.

For the record, you don't know anything about what I've done to be taken seriously.

private

[surfaceshine]

Hey Mal?

private

[deshabille]

Now what?

private

[surfaceshine]

Shut up.

private

[deshabille]

You're not my sergeant.

[But this is slightly calmer.]

private

[surfaceshine]

No, but I'm your friend.

private

[deshabille]

[A moment's pause. Slightly awkward? Maybe. She will never admit to it. Obviously she's just thinking.]

Good thing, too, you'd make a terrible sergeant.

private

[surfaceshine]

Yeah well that's why I'm a hunter, not a Marine.

private

[deshabille]

After some consideration, I think hunters and corporals are roughly equivalent ranks as far as these things can be measured.

So, you shut up.

private

[surfaceshine]

I refuse to be bound by your narrow view of rank and order. I'm a rebel.

So you shut up.

[video - after port]

[canfindrope]

If you don't mind running with a wolf.

[landfall]

I didn't ask for one.