deshabille | six ☼ spam & audio

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six ☼ spam & audio

spam } anya

[Mal goes to Anya first. Of course she goes to Anya first. Pietro, she thinks, would want her to know first - would want her to hold the news for a while before anyone else did.]

[She tracks her down in the library and stands with her legs braced apart, fingers tapping on her hips. There is an edge about her; she is doing her utmost to hover in frustration, rather than head straight into bloody rage.]

Anya.

private } erik

Pietro's gone. Thought you might like to know.

private } barbara

We need to speak in person.

public } voice

Pietro Maximoff has left the Barge. For good, it seems like.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[For her part, Mal manages to conceal her smile, then sort of regrets it.]

You know how I love fun.

Then I think you can make an exception just this once, don't you?

[She raises her eyebrows.]

I make exceptions all the time, sergeant.

[Like that one time she ran and came back. But there's no point saying it.]

You know I usually don't ask for them.

. . . Yes, sergeant.

[It's a neutral, closed-off statement. She knows it. It's just been a bit trying. But there are no excuses, either.]

I have no intention of spoiling the fun, sergeant. [Because it's more than that. It's principle, and it's - well. They're more capable, might as well just say it.]

Glad to hear it, Corporal. I imagine you'll need something to occupy your time anyways.

[It's a small opening for Mal to talk. If she doesn't take it or want to, that's fine. But Polly won't ask it directly when it comes to Mal. She knows better than to think that Mal doesn't operate better on euphemisms and vague allusions.]

[She doesn't take that opening. She so rarely does. Instead, she takes a drink.]

Bush politely requests our assistance in an endeavor related to the welfare of his inmate.

[No titles here. Just Bush. And barely that.]

He didn't pass out under the strain?

[She sounds moderately surprised. She tries not to smile as she takes another drink of her beer.]

Shocking. I know. He seemed to manage it quite well.

. . . Decently.

Acceptably.

What exactly is he asking of us then?

Captain Jones appears to have misplaced his heart, and his warden would like assistance tracking it down again.

[...Ruperts.]

I don't suppose they have any inkling of where it might have gotten off to, do they?

[Right. Fucking ruperts.]

There appears to be some doubt as to whether it was actually stolen, or if Jones might just be playing a hilarious joke.

Well, I'd imagine the fact that Bush still lives and breathes, Jones hasn't suddenly discovered a sense of humor.

It could be a very bad joke.

Jones never gave me much of an impression he could develop even a terrible sense of humor.

[Polly takes another drink of her beer before leaning back some.]

I suppose we could lend a hand.

[Because what the hell else are those ruperts going to do without them?]