Post-It: ETD 00:06am

[maced_eggs]

[Public, Video, cw for references to drug use]

Someone here told me that if I donated bits of myself to science, I could get into the drug trials here. That you all have a lab of some kind an' if I volunteer, I get to be a part of your whole pharmaceutical racket, an' I know he was not just pulling my leg because there is no way everyone on this ship is coping without pills.

I would like some. I would like these pills.

So I should like to volunteer my body for scientific purposes, an' should there be more than one, I will accept bidding in the degree of amphetamines.


[Spam, all cabins]

[Mason is on a mission. One week ago, Bleu commissioned him to find clothing for her, and so he's off from the 1st floor all the way down to the 8th, using his lockpick and his ultra stealthy demeanor to break into the cabins of his fellow passengers on a search for adorable outfits. Whether the outfits belong to men or women seems to not bother Mason, who has the fashion sense of a stunned and colorblind wolverine. After picking into the cabin of each passenger, he retreats with an armful of clothing, leaves it in his room, and then is off and out again to try another door]

[ooc note: Open call to have cabins broken into: Mason's decently handy with most regular doors, but for deadbolts, bioscanners, anything technologically advanced, he can't get in.]

Comments

[maced_eggs]

All my vacations are working ones. I mean, I go to nice places, yes. But usually because there's about to be an earthquake or a hurricane.

[punched_hitler]

I'm gonna go out on a limb and guess that doesn't really count, then.

So I could see how you might not be chomping at the bit to go back home.

[maced_eggs]

I am not chomping at the bit to go back home.

[punched_hitler]

Fair enough.

It still doesn't mean you need to take everything to extremes here, though. Just a thought.

[maced_eggs]

What do you mean by extremes?

[punched_hitler]

Like offering to be a guinea pig for drugs.

[maced_eggs]

S'not very extreme. I've done it plenty of times in the past.

[punched_hitler]

And clearly it's worked out so well.

[Captain America: Master of Sarcasm.]

[maced_eggs]

It did. It worked out very well, for your information. Never better.

[punched_hitler]

Whatever you say, pal. I just don't recommend it, that's all.

[maced_eggs]

You've been in drug trials, then?

[punched_hitler]

Just the one. But it sort of rendered all the others moot.

[maced_eggs]

That's it. That's the one I'd like to be on.

How do I have what you've got?

[punched_hitler]

Not gonna happen, buddy. [He's grinning wryly, but there is just a hint of sadness to it, too.]

I'm the only one.

[maced_eggs]

Didn't anyone teach you to share?

[punched_hitler]

That was the idea. But the formula died with the creator. I'm all that's left, and no one's been able to reproduce it. [Exactly.]

Besides. You'd have had to join the Army to get in on it.

[And he does not see that happening, buddy.]

[maced_eggs]

That was lucky, wasn't it?

[oblivious to the end is Mason]

Funnily enough, I was born a month shy of National Service conscription. But my dad was an army man. Fought the Germans.

[punched_hitler]

[Oh, Mason.] Not for the man we lost.

[But. That was a long time ago, now. Though he will always regret not being fast enough - never mind that it was actually the first (and only) time he actually felt high in his entire life.]

Oh yeah? Maybe I ran into him. [He tries for a grin again.]

My dad was an Army man, too. [Although he never knew him.]

[maced_eggs]

Well, no. Wonder who reaped him. An' if they bothered to ask the secret recipe. Formula. I keep feeling like we'd be losing a lot of money on not asking souls what they're leaving behind. Could make some money patenting that, but, too late now.

Could've been. But fuck if I knew what regiment he was in.

Hardass, was he?

[punched_hitler]

I - don't know. [And now he's thinking about it. But he doesn't know what actually happens when someone is "reaped," assuming he believes it actually happens, which is still a tiny bit questionable because this information is all new to him.] But maybe some things are better left with the dead. [Because that could go very wrong, you know.]

There were a lot of them. And I met a lot of guys. [Although he can remember all their names, but if it was a common name, that won't help, either.]

I couldn't tell you, I never met him. He died over there. But my mom never had anything but good things to say about him.

[maced_eggs]

Like maggots, you mean?

Any Brits, by chance?

That's nice. Not the dying bit, the good things bit. That was nice of your mum.

[punched_hitler]

[A little laugh.] Yeah, those. But I can think of other things, too.

Oh, sure - plenty of Brits. We were stationed in London. One of my team was all that was left of the 3rd Independent Parachute Brigade. So maybe I ran across your dad, who knows, right?

Yeah... my mom was pretty great. I think she and my dad were really in love, but I guess I was too young to ask her about it before she died.

[maced_eggs]

Maybe. You'd have liked him, my dad. Very straight-laced, narrow, fightin' for King and Country.

[So really, nothing like Mason whatsoever]

Thassa shame. Orphans, right?

[punched_hitler]

[He grins.] Sounds like a good guy to have on my side in a fight, then. Honestly, just about every Brit I met was worth every ounce of respect I could give him -

Or her.

[Yeah, he's getting that, but under all of your ranting and raving, you seem like an okay guy, too.] Did you get along with him? Or was he a little too hardass for your liking? [You kind of seem like the rebellious type. Obviously.]

Yeah. But I had Bucky. He mostly kept me out of trouble. Or tried. Not that he's an angel, himself. I might have bailed him out once or twice. [Or tried.]

[maced_eggs]

That's kind to say, but there are some fucking wankers out there. There are in every country.

[Mason pauses to think it over. It's been years since he thought about his dad properly]

He was all right, for a dad. But I was closer to my mum. I was born when the war was starting an' I didn't see him for much of the time I was growing up. So we were almost like strangers, practically.

An' then, you know, I was goin' in a different direction and he ended up kicking me out of the house an' that was the last I saw of him until the funeral.

Mine, not his. He outlived me, he and my mum.


[Suddenly, Mason brightens]

Bucky? The Bucky here? You know him?