ataraxion | murder --3; video

Hey.

[and here's your favourite blonde shit disturber, Tranquility. he's playing the part of possibly-humiliated-teenager, and he's doing it well, all while wearing a Nirvana t-shirt.]

I wanted to say I'm sorry about what I said before, about that alien or whatever. I guess that was kind of a dick move, I was just surprised, you know? But I mean we've seriously got bigger things to worry about. I didn't realize space could be so dangerous outside of crushing space jumps and goo-sickness. [give Tate something terrifying and he'll poke at the wound, Carolyn, i hope you're proud.]

Not that we shouldn't be taking screaming ships and black holes and solar flares lightly but... I was wondering if anyone would maybe- lend me a book or something. I mean the library they've got here is great but I'm a little more old fashioned. [he pulls a face, like he knows how weird that sounds.] Or some music? But not that- club stuff that those guys play in whatever you're calling that dance joint. I'm talking some serious music. Like, Smashing Pumpkins and Kurt Cobain. Trent Reznor. Shit like that.

[a beat.]

I don't really have anything to trade but I dunno, I could figure something out. [he does have a bag of weed, still, but he's not going to offer that up freely lololol]

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Yeah. [he smiles, like gee how did you know.] What's your name?

[As if he doesn't know.]

Libby.

You know, you're wicked funny. I've noticed.

[he ducks his head a little, grinning.]

Nah, not really.

And all smiley. Adorkable.

[She's teasing, almost flirting, which she never does, and that's because here she's wrapping it around the interested glint in her eye that has nothing to do with how cute he is. He is pretty, that's obvious, but it doesn't move her. What does is that he had the nerve to impersonate their good smiling friend when most of these people are scared shitless of the fucking emote. That's what's interesting. So she's tipping on it now, because it's fun. She's tired--not of work but of survival. So. Play with me, she might as well be saying.]

I bet you've got some girl already, though.

[he sobers a little at that; something wounded creeping into the edge of his expression. his shoulder rolls.]

Back home. [he says, a little crestfallen, a little wistful. maybe a little embittered.] But I mean, it's been like seven months or something... [she wouldn't wait for me, is what he leaves unsaid. the living don't wait for the dead, is what he really means.]