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

[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?

[punched_hitler]

Well, I didn't say every Brit was a gift from God. [A little grin.] But overall. They're a good people. Remind me of New Yorkers. They took what came at 'em and just let it roll right off.

Ah. [A little nod. Sometimes he wonders if he'd have gotten along with his father. He'd like to think so. But he has no way of knowing. Still -] That's got to be hard on any parents. Outliving their kid. Even if they didn't get along. I think family is always family, no matter how bad things get, you know?

[And have a grin in return.] That's him. He's my best friend. [And his family, too.]

[maced_eggs]

Yeah. Yeah. I liked New York. Hated working there, but I liked the people. Way better than Seattle, which is where I am now. Or was.

Dunno. I do know he cried. I thought that was very sweet of him.


Bucky's a good lad. Helped me out, my first day here. Actually, my first week.

Come to think of it, he's still helping me out from time to time.

[punched_hitler]

[He nods.] New York's got a lot of good people. There's no one really like 'em in the world.

[He's quiet a moment, but it seems to him...] You probably don't think it's lucky, and maybe it's not, but most people will never know that kind of thing about the people they left behind.

[The subject of Bucky - especially Bucky here - is a better one, though. He smiles more now, nodding.] That sounds like Bucky to me. He's always looking out for somebody else. I don't think he could stop if he tried.

[maced_eggs]

Yeah. I'd have liked working New York, I think.

Well, I mean. It didn't provide any closure. I couldn't speak to me dad, he jus' looked right through me. An' it was a bit depressing all around, come to think of it. I grabbed some pastries an' ditched out of there first chance I got.

He's fantastic, Bucky. We're friends, me and him. Him and me.

[punched_hitler]

I'll bet it'd never be boring.

[He considers that, nodding slowly.] I can't blame you. I never liked funerals, either. I don't think I'd like my own any better. [Although he doesn't even know if he had one. He never asked. It doesn't seem important, anyway. He's not dead.

He does smile more, though, when Mason says Bucky is fantastic.] Yeah - he is. [And Steve's glad to hear he has friends, because he deserves them.] I've never been gladder to see someone in my life. [Except for maybe finding him in that base in Austria.]

[maced_eggs]

Boring, I don't mind. I'd love a few boring deaths.

Well, you I bet would not have died at aged 27, years before your prime, from doing drugs in a shite apartment. So you won't have to worry about funerals for a long time yet.

I wouldn't go that far, but he, he's decent.

[punched_hitler]

I guess it probably beats the "interesting" ones. Especially for the people involved. [In his sleep. That would be nice. Probably not gonna happen, but a guy can dream.

He's quiet just a minute, but then he admits,] No, I died at 27 crashing a bomber into the North Atlantic. I never asked if I got a funeral, but I don't know who would have gone, anyway. [Except maybe Peggy. The Commandos. He wouldn't have wanted it to be a big affair, anyway, that would have been stupid.]

He is decent. [Beyond, really, but you don't need a speech on that.] Even if he is a cocky show-off and get all the girls.

[maced_eggs]

Did you really? Fuckin' hell. War boys get all the interesting deaths.

[Mason doesn't quite realize he's being rude. He grins, curious]

Does he? Even with you an' your pretty blonde hair? Come on, there aren't enough girls in the world to spread around?

[punched_hitler]

Most of them aren't exactly what I'd call interesting.

[He can, at least, realize by this point that Mason's probably got a pretty skewed point of view, though. He can't necessarily hold it against him.

He snorts a little, though.] No, there definitely aren't. Bucky'd generally corral them all, whether he was trying or not.

[maced_eggs]

Well, you know what I mean. More or less.

Yeah. Bucky's the magnetic sort.

D'you think he could find us some girlfriends? I'm only asking for...reasons.

[punched_hitler]

Yeah, I do.

[Although he's got to laugh:] Let me put it this way - he could probably find a girl willing to go out with you. No guarantees she'd like it.

[That was always kind of how it had worked, back home.]