text

[invis]

[For those of you who knew him...

That's what Simon types first. But he decides to reword it, because plenty of people probably knew Nathan, for better or worse - mostly worse. Because Nathan. But that doesn't mean he didn't have other friends.]

For those of you who might be concerned, Nathan Young is no longer on the ship.

I know he had a habit of practical jokes. But this isn't one.

[He feels like he should say more, but nothing comes.]

Comments

text;

[puppydogeyes]

You knew him?

text;

[invis]

Before the Tranquility, we were doing our community service together.

text;

[puppydogeyes]

Was it just you 2 here?
From the same place.

text;

[invis]

Yes.

[He doesn't like to think about that. He's been better about making friends, even before he came here. But losing Rose, and now Nathan. It feels like a set-back.]

The ship will be quiet without him.

text;

[puppydogeyes]

[It really will be quieter, but Taylor usually prefers to look at people leaving the other way around: they're better off not being on the ship anymore.]

He's safer at home.
My name's Tyke.
If you need anything just let me know.

text;

[invis]

He dies a lot there too.

I know who you are.

[...Well that didn't sound like a message made of magazine letters at all.]

I mean I've seen you on the network. I'm Simon.

text;

[puppydogeyes]

Hasn't got a spaceship trying to make him crazy.

[Though she isn't really sure how successful it ever would've been with Nathan.]

text;

[invis]

Maybe it was good for him. Nathan has a way of doing that to other people.

text;

[puppydogeyes]

He was alright.
Maybe that's why it sent him home.

text;

[cons]

well, shit.

text;

[invis]

I'm sorry. Were you his friend too?

text; 1/2

[cons]

he worked the bar with me a few times.

text;

[cons]

and by that i mean he hung out behind the bar and gave people crappy drinks while he got trashed

text;

[invis]

Did he owe you money?

text;

[cons]

nah, drinks are free. he owes me a few weeks' worth of therapy sessions after broadcasting his own suicide, but no money.

text;

[invis]

I'm sorry. If I'd known you were close, I could've told you.

I'm Simon.

text;

[cons]

no worries. guess it doesn't matter anymore anyway.

i'm Wichita. i work at the bar, you should come around sometime, we can get trashed and swap horrifying Nathan stories. i've got a few.

text;

[invis]

It matters. And I would like to hear them.

text

[doggedly]

[Sirius spends a great deal of time deleting and retyping and deleting and chucking his communicator away and sulking a little because first off, it's not fair. Secondly, he doesn't know what to say. Not are you sure, not sorry, not this sucks... all of it seems stupid.

Instead, eventually:]

dear simonbarry,

[And then it just stops, like he began writing a letter and didn't finish.]

text

[invis]

is it time for another test?

text

[doggedly]

missions suspended
its time to get pissed

text

[invis]

i was hoping it would involve the space bar.

text

[doggedly]

yes yes but dont get excited its not a date
1 hr
no make up

text

[invis]

I'm not ready to date again so soon anyway.

text

[doggedly]

were you ever ready to date
but the ladies of the ship breathe a collective sigh of relief
and you can get properly pissed a small comfort for the single man im sure