ataraxion | ♚ voice;

[ There's some shuffling and static followed by a muffled curse - too quick and quiet to make out what, exactly - and then the feed settles down. For a few seconds too long, actually, because there's an awkward pause before someone finally starts speaking. ]

Greetings. [ It's a soft-spoken but firm English accent, and the somber tone is only slightly offset by frustration with the device. ] I would like to formally request information regarding this vessel's brig - its security, the level of transgression that requires one be locked up in it.

[ A pause, then slightly more reluctantly- ]

And games. Games that do not run on electricity. Chess, dominoes - if anything of that nature is available, I would like to borrow it. Books on real paper would also be sufficient. [ In case you're wondering, he's been holed up in his room and hasn't bothered to find the library. Nor has he figured out how to research information on the network, apparently. As far as he's concerned this is a regular phone and he's making a direct call to some kind of customer service. ]

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Hal, what are you doing?

[ Side-eyeing his phone so hard because this is a phone call, not an email; text appearing out of nowhere isn't something he was prepared for. That and he blatantly hasn't programmed Cutler's name into his contacts. ]

Who is this? How do you know my name?

[If he could only see Cutler facepalm]

It's Cutler. Look, where are you? And see the little checkbox that says 'lock' on the phone screen? Press that before you say anything.

Are you planning to get arrested?

No. How does asking after the brig's security imply that?

I just want to know if the ship is safe.

[ He sounds slightly defensive, because - yeah, he totally is planning on getting arrested. Maybe. It's a nuclear option. ]

I heard that people can spontaneously explode if they miss the jump.
I'm not sure safe's really that much of an option.

[ There's a long pause as he pulls the comms device away to stare at it, then- ]

Where-

[ ... then he remembers he has to speak into it again. ] I don't see a 'lock'.

[ Wow that's horrifying, you can't just say that Melissa. He knows exactly what people exploding looks like, so that news successfully derails his train of thought for a few intensely affronted seconds. ]

I'm aware that this vessel has its own share of - defects, but I'm asking after the security available should a passenger become a threat. I hardly expect them to throw the ship into its own brig.

Okay, never mind, just tell me where you are.

[ And now he feels like an idiot, and that's hardly acceptable. ]

I'm not an infant, Cutler, I can handle a mobile phone. [ Incredibly irritated and stubborn, but it yields results... eventually. There's more shuffling as he holds the comms device away and some very quiet cursing, before finally- ]

There, it should be - wait, what did you mean by "what am I doing"? I'm simply asking about the ship. [ Asking about the brig and hobbies is not exactly gathering vampire intel, but hey. ]

If you think you're putting me in there, you've got another thing coming.

[Someone finally remembered the rest of how things went with Hal]

Don't have a phobia of electricity, do you? You might be out of luck there. [ a beat. ] Err. But I know one of the recreational rooms has got pool and darts and that sort of thing. Unfortunately, the media library is digital.

[ There's a guilty hesitation, because the thought had occurred to him - even if he'd mostly been considering options for his own accommodation. The abrupt suspicion and hostility doesn't go unnoticed, though he's mostly just confused by it. ]

I wouldn't dream of it. We're in this together, remember?

[ Try a phobia of technology. He's not really sure how to answer that question without sounding like an idiot (because, really, hating technology and being in space is ridiculous), so he ignores it. ]

I'm looking for hobbies that can be done in the privacy of one's room. [ Anyone else would probably show some humility at the accidental euphemism, but the thought doesn't even occur to him. The news about the media library, however, does induce a small amount of stress. ]

And if it hasn't got any books, how can they possibly justify calling it a library?

[And now he's pretty much just sticking to text to appear more calm and in control about this. Still, there's probably a noticeable gap before his next words]

I remember a lot of things, Hal. Like how my evening went the day before we found ourselves here.

[ Another pause, because he's still not positive what the rules are here, if they're on the same page. They can't be, because if they're both still alive - that means they didn't actually come here together. And now he sounds slightly nervous, even if he's trying to appear nonchalant. ]

Which evening was that, exactly?

[He's hoping the nervousness means Hal's come to his senses]

Watching you like that was embarrassing enough. I'm hardly going to repeat it to you.

Edited 2012-11-10 03:57 (UTC)

[ And that clears things up quickly. That wasn't last evening, and it means Cutler's got no idea where he ended up. There's a second where Hal thinks he should be upfront, tell him what happens, but he thinks better of it.

But now there's another issue, and it's one Hal has to address as soon as possible. ]

Nothing's changed, Cutler. I won't drink blood again. [ He sounds resolved, even if there's an edge of apology to his tone. ]

[ Welp. Too late. Amy is already suppressing a chuckle, which turns into a bit of a snort. Be serious, Pond, please. It's not working very well though. ]

Right. Gotcha. I'm sure somebody else can lend you a hand there. [ Oh. Maybe not the best reply. He started it, really. ] I mean, with chess and ... stuff.

[ MOVING ON. ] They're still books, just on screens -- like ebooks, or whatever you want to call them.

We are presently working on a law code, but right now things are judged on a case by case basis. Everything's complicated here. You have any idea how to ethically handle the crime of a werewolf eating a person when it's not premeditated murder? I don't.

Sorry, I know, I'm very cheerful. It's not been a great week. Month. Well... [ He rolls his eyes apologetically. ] You know what I mean.

One of the werewolves ate someone?

[He figures this will probably work better if Hal can hear him being sincere.]

Everything's changed. There's a system here, people volunteer for it. It's all safe and medical and civilised.

[ He actually has to pull the comms device away from his ear and stare at it like it's (she's, by proxy) slightly crazy, because he's still completely missing the joke. He's a bit more hesitant when he replies, because now he's wondering exactly how stable she is. Random chuckling isn't really a sign of good health. ]

Meaning they aren't books. Books are on paper; they don't get glitches. [ It's kind of like trying to explain a Kindle to your grandpa, really. From the way he says 'glitches', you'd think it was some sort obscenity. ]

[ He's not particularly fazed by the ethical conundrum of werewolf crimes, though the open mention of werewolves itself is worth noting. As for that bad month, well- ]

Yes, I think I do. [ His voice is steady and polite, a slight edge of sympathy. This is also the first reply he's gotten that's actually useful, so he doesn't want to seem ungrateful. ]

The existence of werewolves is common knowledge on the ship?

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