ataraxion | voice

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voice

[...there's a second of white noise, because-- well, this is weird. It's like online chatrooms, which Mitchell has never been keen on, to say the least. One on one communication hasn't been so bad--better, actually, considering he's been mostly holed up in his room, avoiding human/werewolf contact. But, right--necessity--]

If people are going t' go through those tubes and get onto that other ship, do their phones keep on working? These devices, I mean. Do they go that far? If they do, and if this can be heard over there, I'm making a request. Space pirates had to have cigarettes on them, yeah, and I'm in need of cigarettes. Sanctioned looting can include a bit of personal stuff, yeah-- and it's sort of a, a desperate need. Please and thanks in advance.

[Like very desperate. Like the more he talks about it, the more strained his voice goes. Vampires with nicotine addictions, it's a hard life. A pause, then, he might finish there--but instead he sucks in a breath. Right. Normal.]

Actually, there's a lot of questions on how things work around here, and not all of it is out of our control. Like--so there's a cast of, what, a hundred plus of us, and we have t' trade for things that we need, if someone else has got them. But if you don't have anything t' trade, is it just-- begging for it? Hoping for a bit of Christian charity? Every man for himself? Not that I'd be much surprised by that one, given the... [Maybe it's better not to finish that one, in light of recent events, but given his low faith in humanity, and given his own recent exploints, none this is really all that surprising. So, wry once more:] ...given the situation.

[An awkward pause.]

Anyways. Thanks again.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

You're on the security team?

I...Yes. That's what I said. Some moments ago.

And you're sure you're not training to be some sort of life coach?

Of course I'm - One need not be some expert with special training to recognize bad decisions, sir!

No, but it does take a special sort of someone to get involved with other people's bad decisions.

So - So then you acknowledge that this is a bad decision, do you?

In the total rankings of bad decisions possible, this one is a tiny little minor one.

Tell that to your doctor in ten years.

See, this is what I'm talking about, these grim little prophetic statements, trying to goad people into things-- inspirational speaker, maybe? You're not fooling anyone.

I'm - I am not attempting to fool anyone about anything. What are you trying to accuse me of, precisely? Secretly not being on security? Having secret ambitions of being a therapist?

Nah, this isn't therapy. This is some weird combination of guilt and semi-gentle berating. That's where I got life coach from.

Look, what's it matter to you?

I -

[Ugh.]

What does it matter to me if you pollute yourself and the air around you? I think the answer should be self-evident.

Pollute myself? D'you really talk like this?

[He just sort of sounds bemused and amused, all at once.]

It's a large enough ship, I don't think you need to worry about me mucking up your air.

No, quite right, I don't; this is an auditory hallucination. Do you acknowledge that the air here is recycled?

Did I know that, d'you mean?

No, I'm asking...do you acknowledge it. Or - I suppose - now that I have told you this fact, do you acknowledge that it is indeed a fact.

You calling it fact doesn't necessarily make it fact. Seems logical enough, I'll go along with it. And now you're going t' say that the recycled air picks up my cigarette smoke and transfers it back to your lungs, so it really is your problem. But I'd think they'd do some sort of filtration, right?

You'd think. But do you know?

No?

Indeed not! So you might well be poisoning us, and you've no notion whether or not you truly are!

Right.

This is only the second conversation I've had with you, y'know, and already I'm wondering why you haven't got anything better t' do.

Well, that's...a rather rude thing to say.

You're arguing with me about air quality! You're not even arguing, you're just-- guilting me.

Well - yes, I absolutely am. But for the sake of your health!

My health, yeah. Which isn't anything to do with you, so that sort of takes us back to the life coach. Security, really? You're sure?

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