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

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?

Wh...My answer is not going to change, sir!

Edited 2013-05-03 02:35 (UTC)

It's Mitchell.

I don't call people by their given names.

Lucky it's my surname, then. Look, as long as you're not calling me sir.

[He scowls, then harumphs.]

I'm trying to be polite, you know. "Sir" is polite. But if that is how you want it: Mitchell, then.

Makes me feel old.

[HA HA. Well, old and also like the sort of person that merits being called sir--which he isn't any longer, and never wants to be again. No more king of vampire shit, no more second in command.]

D'you usually harass people about their choices, or is it just the smoking that you object to.

There's nothing wrong with feeling old. It's quite underrated.

And bad choices are bad choices; I object to them regardless.

How old are you?

[What no]

I - excuse me?

How old are you. Your age.

[God damn it]

I'm...twenty-one.

Edited 2013-05-03 15:24 (UTC)

Twenty-one isn't typically an age you spend wishing you were older, I think.

[From what... he can remember of being twenty-one.]

Or maybe that's from watching too much television.

I - I don't watch television. If you mean it's from me watching too much.

[He crosses his arms, scowling - but at least Mitchell hadn't broken out into mocking laughter. That's something]

And when you're twenty-one and working in the law, it's often a bit difficult to find respect. One does not want to be considered younger than one should be.

Edited 2013-05-03 15:59 (UTC)

Nah, I watch too much television. [And quickly, he adds:] Which you don't have to lecture me on, there's not any television to watch here, so I'm broken of that habit already.

[Broken of it and less than happy, so it comes out a little dismal.]

But you are a bit young for it. Can't blame people for bein' surprised.

Well - no, I wasn't going to lecture you on it. It's not as bad as smoking, so - priorities and all that.

[His voice is more gruff than disapproving; he hears that misery, and he can't keep being mean to someone that broken up.]

And I'll respond to that how I responded to my colleagues. What matters is not one's age; what matters is one's abilities.

How liberal of you.

[BUT HEY he is not going to argue. The less he's lectured, the better.]

That's what you say. Right. And then they, assume that you're... really a man three times your age stuck in a twenty-one-year-old body, and leave you alone?

And then they see that I'm as skilled as they, and that I've earned my place, and they leave me be.

Oh, no, they've got t' laugh a little.

I - Why? There is nothing laughable about me.

No offense, mate, but if someone came up t' me and launched into a little speech like that? I'd laugh.

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