[Oh there's a question. One that inspires a brief flinch, because there's no way to wheedle out of it and also no way to really explain it to someone who is from a society that hasn't embraced firearms yet.]
No, I'm the only thing like me anywhere. It's a whole thing.
[ Though — a different way, she was not created like him, nor did she grow up needing to steal scraps from others. But the loneliness of that position — she understands. ]
[He gives her a sidelong look.] Y'know, you'd probably be a lot more comfortable in my neck of the universe- if it hadn't gotten eaten. Badass warrior broads who can make men piss themselves in terror with a look do pretty well out in the galaxy.
[ The bitterness of this knowledge is new and growing. There are men here who do not look at her body like it belongs to them, or seek ownership during conversation. She thinks them soft, true, but it is as one starved sitting before a grand feast, with food too rich for her stomach. ]
Can you start a fire? It is quicker if I do all the fishing.
[He digs into his pocket producing a a tiny lighter, and begins dragging a few dry sticks and leaves into a pile. It's not the most handsome fire there ever was, but at this juncture, doing anything correctly is worthy of pride for Rocket, especially when it comes to lighting the fire with nothing more than a snap of a light to ignite the kindling and get it burning lightly.]
[ She eyes the lighter. Another on a long list of items Asha has to acquire and master. She has been glancing over at others without making it seem too obvious — many say she has an accent, and many do not mean that kindly. ]
[ Asha brings the fish over, wrapping them in leaves to make them easier to carry. She sets two stones by the fire, balancing some thin sticks on them. Unwrapping the fish, she lays them over the sticks. It's rudimentary, but without a pot for soup or a metal rod for a spit, this will do. She has eaten worse. ]
[ Fun fact: she's actually never done this before. Cooking and making fires is work for smallfolk and thralls. Asha sees it and knows the principle, but little else. ]
Swim or drown. [That gets a weak chuckle out of him.] Shit. I've been livin' large for so long I forgot what the hell it was like to need to be that adaptable.
Here's hopin' you get somewhere to put a fleet when we get where we're goin'. Or I could always just teach you how to embrace a more superior kind of ship. [He waves a hand at the set-up.] Fair trade, so I don't feel as pathetic for being a survivalist wash-out.
Just frickin' glides through the stars, like nothing else. And if you get a good one, you can get from just about any place in the galaxy in a few jumps- and if you time it right, you never have to worry about getting caught. And even if you do, these ships have got weapons like you can't even imagine. And all you gotta do is aim and press a few buttons.
[He's getting... pretty into this explanation.] Not to brag or anything, but I'm the best pilot in the frickin' universe. There ain't a spaceship I can't fly.
[The bitter I don't feel at home anywhere almost slips out, but he catches it, grimacing a bit. And then, of course, the much more pleasant "I have a crew of my own" also doesn't come. Stuck between a bitter and a hopeful place- sounds like his life.
He settles for something neutral.]
Yeah, well if someone as freakin' sensible as you puts up with 'em, they can't possibly be idiots. I feel like you'd beat the shit out of anyone who didn't pull their weight or made you look bad.
[ She laughs. Oh, they're idiots, every one, half treat her as a daughter and the other half would rather she were warming their beds instead of standing on the deck. But they're hers, every one. ]
I'd throw them to the sea. [ Like it's a mild correction, it comes with a smile. ] Do you travel with anyone?
[Well, he can't work around that question. He idly rakes his claws through the fur of his arm and stares up at the sky above them.] Less of a crew, more like a bunch of misfits I picked up and never got rid of. They're not so bad though, even if most of them are still asleep. [Muttered:] Lazy jerks.
[ She does not pray, and the Drowned God may not hear her all the way, if he has followed them. And though they can both stand on their own two feet, that is not a reason they both should do it forever. ]
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beatupgrass) wrote2017-07-02 05:08 am
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Are there many like you, in the city you come from?
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No, I'm the only thing like me anywhere. It's a whole thing.
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[ Though — a different way, she was not created like him, nor did she grow up needing to steal scraps from others. But the loneliness of that position — she understands. ]
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[ The bitterness of this knowledge is new and growing. There are men here who do not look at her body like it belongs to them, or seek ownership during conversation. She thinks them soft, true, but it is as one starved sitting before a grand feast, with food too rich for her stomach. ]
Can you start a fire? It is quicker if I do all the fishing.
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[He digs into his pocket producing a a tiny lighter, and begins dragging a few dry sticks and leaves into a pile. It's not the most handsome fire there ever was, but at this juncture, doing anything correctly is worthy of pride for Rocket, especially when it comes to lighting the fire with nothing more than a snap of a light to ignite the kindling and get it burning lightly.]
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[ Asha brings the fish over, wrapping them in leaves to make them easier to carry. She sets two stones by the fire, balancing some thin sticks on them. Unwrapping the fish, she lays them over the sticks. It's rudimentary, but without a pot for soup or a metal rod for a spit, this will do. She has eaten worse. ]
We may turn them soon.
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So he's just staring at their little makeshift campfire with an incredulous expression.]
You, uh... Must have to do this a lot, huh?
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Swim, or drown. I make my choice.
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[And he's not ashamed to admit it.]
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I had my own fleet. My crew would die for me. [ She values loyalty far more than fear. ] They may sleep, but I am still their captain.
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[ etc. etc. ]
But I wish to hear what you think I should have.
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I'm listening.
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[He's getting... pretty into this explanation.] Not to brag or anything, but I'm the best pilot in the frickin' universe. There ain't a spaceship I can't fly.
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[ Only now — when someone speaks of it like a ship should be — does she feel some connection to that hunk of metal. ]
You would feel at home among my crew.
[ Raucous, delightful bunch. She misses them fiercely, and another time might have aimed to poach Rocket for her own helmsman. ]
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He settles for something neutral.]
Yeah, well if someone as freakin' sensible as you puts up with 'em, they can't possibly be idiots. I feel like you'd beat the shit out of anyone who didn't pull their weight or made you look bad.
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I'd throw them to the sea. [ Like it's a mild correction, it comes with a smile. ] Do you travel with anyone?
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[ She does not pray, and the Drowned God may not hear her all the way, if he has followed them. And though they can both stand on their own two feet, that is not a reason they both should do it forever. ]