ataraxion | [Voice.]

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[Voice.]

Anybody here ever go to college?

[That's a random question, yo. Marty is actually busy with his engineering gig right now, checking on the systems and making sure everything isn't five seconds away from going topsy-turvy on his ass — one of the great perks about being in this department, but hey, it's a small crew and shit's gotta be done. He's pretty hopeful to go work on his potato farm through, after leaving it hanging for so long.]

I don't know, man, I kinda' really miss it. College was the best years of my life, probably? If there was anything to leave a high note on, it was my last few years back in school; sure, before that I was a mostly-freak and stuff, and maybe the class clown in high school, but once you go to college, you sort of realize everyone is crazy. Or tolerates crazy. To a suspicious level. Maybe college does something to the brain. Melts it out of your ears. Or maybe the liquor is doing all the brain melting.

Anyway... nostalgic, I guess. All work and no talking makes Mr. Mikalski a dull bro.

You guys the party type back then? Or were you the ones who actually studied in your rooms and ignored the wild rumpus beginning outside?

......

On second thought, I think there's a ton of high school kids here.

Sorry about spending your school life stuck on a big spooky ship, by the way. I'll give you snacks as apology.

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There's high school kids here? [ One more thing to ~~worry~~ be annoyed about. ]

Anyway, if college was the best years of your life you need to see more of the world. Everyone is crazy, if that's what you're looking for out of life. You can go anywhere and find that.

Last time I checked, sure. Cute little rug rats.

[marty you're not that old]

I saw some of the world! But then I sort of died before I got out of college.

[BRAZEN. Though at this point? He's pretty much come to terms with what happened. He's had a hell of a lot of time to self-reflect about his icky demise. Life's a bitch.]

[ Kids are the last thing Crane wants to hear about. Enough that he's going to see what the ~~crazy~~ guy has to say about his, uh. Condition. ]

...Died, huh. You're talking pretty well for a corpse.

A lot of people are talking pretty well for a corpse here. It's on par the course.

We don't have a therapy group for it yet, though.

[Not that he blames anyone, because... y'know. Dead.]

[ Crane's trying to figure out if dead means something different at the moment. Like... near-death experiences or fatal diseases or something. Whatever. He's not going to think about it. ]

There's therapy groups for other stuff around here? Apparently between being dead and the rest, there's a lot of trauma going around.

There was a therapist. Haven't seen her around, though.

Sucks, because there's a lot to be treated for around here.

I was in grade two.

So not quite the partying crew just yet.

[he grins; aww, kids.

Both a sad thing and a nice thing, considering how this ship works.]

You like school?

I did. ...I haven't been in a while though.

[For other reasons then just the ship.]

I got a citizenship award!

A citizenship award?? Aw, man, congrats there. You accept it in front of a crowd?

[Sue him, kids aren't that bad. He was an only child, but being a kid was a pretty decent time in his life, minus the uninvolved parenting. And hell, it would have been nice if his mom actually tried coming to his award ceremonies when he was in elementary school. Yes, he's holding that to her all these years later. They were important awards, dammit.]

[She nods.]

We didn't have many people because Hadley's Hope was only a small colony but I knew a lot about it. I was the first person born there too.

Really? Good job on the accomplishment there.

Why weren't the others born there? Migrated from elsewhere, huh?

[She nods.]

They all came from Earth to mine and study stuff.

Man, technology gets pretty cool.

Back where I came from, we only sent a few people in a space ship at a time. And they had to come back eventually.

[She nods.]

I met a boy here whose from really long time ago France. He said they only had balloons to get into the air.

Hi.

Can I have a snack?

[#priorities]

Sure! As long as you don't rob me blind or throw sharp objects at me, I can whip you up tons of awesome shit.

Mostly chips. Chips are important.

I don't want to rob anyone.

[All wide-eyed and innocent; how could he even think such a thing of her. No promises on the rest of it.]

Chips of what, exactly.

Chips made of potato, of course! A little salt, a little flavoring, and bam — the best thing to eat in all of the ship! Marty's Marvelous Munchies. Or something like that.

[Hm.]

Okay.

Okay! Meet me in the level 1 kitchens and I'll have you be a taste tester for the newest batch.

[as he sits and hopes you're not coming to murder him kay thanks]

Great. I can't wait.

[No promises, again. And when Johanna does wander down to the kitchen, she's carrying her axe--but she's carrying it casually, like it's nothing. Just another part of her outfit.]

Hi.

[Great, Marty thinks as she comes in. Just great.

He hopes she's not completely nuts; he gives leeway for some nuts, but not all.

Like him! :D]

Hey. You hungry, lumberjack?

[There is a large bowl of these magical potato chips. Behold.

Just don't kill him. But then, he's got his trowel on him to stab people with if they're crazy, too, so maybe we're two peas in a pod there.]

Starving.

[--She answers, cheerfully, without so much as batting an eye at the nickname. In fact, she's almost pleased by it, which she will display by not killing anyone in the kitchen just yet.

Instead, she saunters on up to stand before the bowl of potato chips, her axe still casually in hand.]

No forks? They look crispy.

No forks.

[He holds his hands up like it's a magic trick, motioning to the chips.]

Your mind is gonna do backflips when you try these. They're the best damn thing since sliced bread! Dare I say even better! [He's super sure of that, too. So sure.] The crisp is the best part. Crunch and savory, perfect as a snack on the go.

[He dreamed of being the perfect salesman, obviously.]

You're full of shit.

{That's what she's super sure of. But Johanna eyes the bowl, thoughtfully, and then swings her axe up to set it down on the countertop. It makes a loud thud. She doesn't bat an eye, but grabs the bowl and drags it closer, so she can fish a chip out. And then, after she eats it--another.

Huh.]

But these are pretty good.

I am full of a lot of things. Squishy human and all.

[So he will take that as just a biological factoid.]

And of course they're good. I made 'em.

You usually wander around here with an axe? I don't remember you from before.

You better be careful. Someone might take that as an invitation to find out what you're full of.

[Squishy human and all. But she says it kind of like she's giving him advice, not at all like a threat. She isn't interested in the invitation.

Instead, she crunches on another chip.]

You don't remember me from before what?

[A-AHAHA. He smiles like please don't kill me chick.]

From the last time I was on board, I meant. I was here before - went back home for a while.

Fun, right?

[Oh. She crunches, loudly, on another chip.]

You've got a weird idea of fun.

[But she says it lightly, because she knows it was sarcasm. And also she doesn't seem particularly motivated to kill anyone. Not right now, at least. Instead, she reaches for another chip.]

Did you get to remember it, at least? And all the fun you had here before? Or did they wring out your brain before they tossed you back.

I do remember, totally. Even if I'm a super pothead, I remember it all pretty clear. Surprising, right? [HEHEHE.] Though 'fun' was more getting high and saving the crops from burning. The monsters n' shit I had to fight before? Not so much.

There was a dinosaur around, though. It was cool as fuck.

[Johanna--with zero idea on what a dinosaur is--eats another few chips.]

I like fighting way better than saving crops and hanging around in space waiting for something to happen. We should've traded.

[Or something. This is kind of an exaggeration. It's nice not to have some old familiar threats, but it sucks not to be doing anything. Except eating more of the chips which, the more that she eats, the more that she likes.]

So you're saying you're glad to be back.

[Snort.]

Ain't that a bitch. We really should've.

[He shrugs.]

I like being alive, mostly. Being alive is kinda' synonymous with being here on the ship.

[Her glance actually lingers at that, mouth twisted up into sort of a half-smirk.]

Oh.

[Not necessarily impressed, she grabs for another chip, without looking down.]

You're one of those.

[Normally Eiri's not so crazy about the idea of volunteering personal information, but he's had quite a few beers and he's lonely. Forgive him. Right now he's smoking a cigarette and making an unimpressed face at the camera]

No.

Honestly it seemed like a waste of time and money when I already knew what I was doing with my life. Plus life has a tendency to melt your brain out of your ears with or without college.

[He takes a long drag of his cigarette and blows smoke at the camera]

If you miss it so much, get drunk and punch somebody in the face for no reason. That'll simulate the experience.

Geez, punching people in the face? That's unfun. About as fun as grappling with a robotic bear. I'm not a fighter type.

[Except when he goes kind of crazy and turns into a warrior.

But we shan't go into specifics.]

What'd you do with yourself instead of college?

[Eiri doesn't look amused. But then again when does he]

Then go chug an entire keg of beer and have a questionable gay experience you'll regret. I'm not gonna tell you how to relive your glory days.

[This is said in an almost painfully bored and dry tone, and he just stares Marty down for a moment before he answers his question, momentarily weighing back and forth whether it's even worth his time.]

Writing.

[It's the simplest and most unaccommodating answer possible because Eiri just has to take every opportunity to be difficult.]

Does it matter?

... Well, considering it's a potentially fundamental part of who you are, sure. Yeah. Maybe.

Are you always a grinch?

Is it? Or is it just a job?

[He raises an eyebrow and takes another deep drag of his cigarette. At the question, he ponders it momentarily.]

Whenever possible. Considering I've been kidnapped and dragged off to wherever the hell it is we are, I haven't exactly felt the surging need to play nice.

Considering you're talking all deep and mysterious like a writer, I'm thinkin' yeah, maybe it is part of who you are.

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