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09 August 2006 @ 09:07 pm
continuing adventures  
The fourth scene my ongoing sci-fi adventure.


Percy stopped in his tracks, shoulders immediately tensing. He knew that voice, and he knew that tone, and he knew what he was in for.

"Tell me, oh esteemed first mate, where have you been these past hours?"

He turned slowly, hand twitching towards his sword. Wishful thinking.

Her dark eyes narrowed forbiddingly. "Oh no. Do not think that you can get out of this with that oversized knife of yours. Draw that thing and I will beat you so bad that even the Wastelings will think you're ugly. Now. Where have you been?"

Percy had shoved his hands safely into the pockets of his greatcoat before his muzzy head had even registered the threat. She glared at him and he shrugged, avoiding her steely gaze.

"Let me guess. You went into some smelly pub -- just for one drink -- and just happened to consume your weight in cheap liquor."


She sighed, pushing a mass of her plentiful dark braids over her shoulder. "Percy, we have had this talk. I know you know better." She crossed her arms and huffed an irritated breath. "I swear, you are more like a bratty younger brother than my actual bratty younger brother."

Percy just blinked at her, wishing he could go lay down. His stomach was roiling in a distinctly unpleasant manner, and he had already heard enough of her customary tirade. He could only be thankful that he sported no obvious evidence of the alley brawl, or she would have crucified him on the spot.

Ayoka was nothing if not formidable. Percy had known her for years, fortunately as a friend, and did not envy those that got on her bad side. A refugee from New Hera, Ayoka had grown up in questionable circumstances and had plenty of questionable skills as a result. Most people knew better than to get in her way, recognizing her cocoa dark skin and flowing braids as Heran traits, but the few that dared instigate anything soon found out the hard way that Ayoka was no one to be trifled with.

"I could forgive the drunkenness, stupid as it is," she was saying now. "I seem to be fighting a losing battle on that front. But what," Ayoka pointed to a line of smeared muddy footprints on the otherwise pristine metal floor, "Is your excuse for this?"

"Um," said Percy. "Well, I lost my footing--"

"I don't care," Ayoka interrupted, holding up one hand as if to block his ridiculous excuse. "Whatever it is, I don't care. But if you don't clean this up in the next ten minutes, then I will personally see to it that you can never sleep safely again."

Percy thought this was a bad plan -- he needed a bed as soon as possible. And perhaps an empty bucket. His stomach bubbled ominously, and he could practically feel his face taking on a green tinge. Ayoka must have seen it, as well, because she snapped, "You can't be serious! What would the captain say?"

"Not much," said the captain in question, weaving into the corridor from the entry bay. "That'd be awful hypocritical, seeing as I've been undergoing the very same activity in a bar across town."

"You two!" Ayoka cried. "I give up! Drink yourself into a stupor! See if I care!" She stormed away, and Captain Howitzer flashed Percy a grin.

"Damn, she's feisty. But you look like you've contracted some terminal disease. Go take a nap, it makes me feel ill just looking at you," the captain said, stumbling merrily towards the bridge. "And don't worry about the mud. Ayoka'll have it cleaned up in a fit of righteous fury before either of us have woken up."

Percy wasted no time in following these particular orders, leaning heavily against the cool gray walls and shuffling towards his cabin. From the well-lit corridor by the entry bay he passed into smaller, dimly-lit halls the color of gunmetal. Inset hatch-style doorways branched off towards an assortment of rooms -- crew lodgings like his own, the galley, the infirmary -- and smaller hatches opened into crawlspaces for the ship's mechanics.

Finally he reached his own quarters and slapped impatiently at the keypad until the hatch unlocked and he could roll back the deadbolts to open the door. His room was not the largest suite on the Heretic -- Captain Howitzer's cluttered chamber held that honor -- but as the first mate, Percy's was bigger than most. It had room enough for a decently sized bed, a desk, a trunk, and a weapons rack, while still leaving enough empty space to practice swordplay. It even had a small but strongly reinforced window on the far wall.

At present, none of this concerned Percy at all. His mind was preoccupied with making it to the bed without mishap, a plan that was nearly foiled by a pair of Ayoka's shoes, which she'd accidentally left on his floor after her last visit. Percy barely recovered his footing, sparing a thought towards the near poetic justice of it before collapsing into bed.
Current Mood: apatheticapathetic
Current Music: my mother is watching something on the HALLMARK CHANNEL
Jack Tradesdreams4ever25 on August 10th, 2006 02:01 am (UTC)
mm mm good
Captain Howitzer?? I love it!! I think you are the queen of dialoge, my friend. keep it up and keep it coming!