OOC: JP between @Winters, @MK Blitzen, @Aalakrys

“That’s what I’m here to find out,” Kinneas said as he pushed himself from the frame of the doorway with his shoulder, standing upright once more. “Well, captain?”

Jago sighed thinking. "Well why not make yourself useful, there's a chore list hanging in the galley."

“I’m not signing on to be anyone’s qìyuē yōnggōng (indentured servant).” Kinneas’ expression darkened slightly, insulted by the first thought that came to Deckard’s mind.

Tim sucked a thin stream of air through his teeth, suddenly fascinated with one of the fuel cell indicators. He suppressed any nervous laughter that threatened to bubble up.

"Oh I'm sorry princess but our janitorial staff sought employment elsewhere. So while I go and find a new maid so your pretty hands don't have to get dirty, everyone on this ship pulls their own weight. If you have a problem with that you can file a complaint in our suggestion box, conveniently located in the gorram airlock." Jago said flatly, giving Kinneas a level look.

Tim’s gage grew more fascinating by the minute, and he fought hard to not let out another wince.

“I don’t have a problem with -” Kinneas was interrupted, his gritted teeth over the word emphasized grinding to a halt.

"Good." Jago said cutting Kinneas off. "Chore list is in the galley."

“They’re not all horrible,” Tim promised. “I mean, some of them. Crew sometimes plays tall card for ‘em, if you’re a betting man.”

Kinneas was about to tell the captain where he could shove his chore list, but bitterly smirked at the notion of pawning them off on someone else if he won a hand or two of cards. “That makes it all better, sure. In the meantime, I’ll just go hop right to that list. Can’t think of a better way to spend the start of my time bound to this ship.” Fuck if I will. He turned to go back to his bunk.

Jago waited for the man to leave. "I swear Serena whines less than that man." He grumbled going back to the list on the cortex screen.

Tim watched the new person leave, and rubbed his non-existent five-o-clock shadow. “Give him a little time,” the pilot offered. “I know you’re spoiled, what with me coming on board right out of the box amazing. “ He raised his eyebrows a few times towards the captain, fishing for compliments he knew wouldn’t come.

"Time I got. Patience with another teen on the boat, less so." He paused, turning to Tim. "The coffee ain't that bad is it?"

“It’s like you melted brown crayons in swamp water,” Tim replied. “I’ll make a shopping run on New Kasmir, while you go and get us raked over by a new fixer.”

"Zero faith in your Captain." Jago tsked. "And spring for the nicer crayons." He joked.

OOC: JP between @Winters, @Aalakrys

The smell of something cooking started to drift around the ship from the galley. The sound of the crew going about their day had passed by Kinneas’s hatch all day but suddenly one of them stopped and the sound of someone coming down the later broke the monotony of his day so far.

Kinneas lay on his back, resting his head on an arm and staring at the ceiling. He’d expended all he could think to do as he went from boiling mad to a light simmer. But now that someone was inviting themselves in, he felt that heat turn up a notch as he glared up at the ladder.

Vas climbed down matching Kinneas glare. He didn’t wait or pause, he walked in like he owned the place to the dresser taking the brush and hair care bottles that belonged to Serena.

Kinneas watched him do so, but didn’t move from his position - not even to uncross his ankles.

The punk walked back up the ladder, pausing for a moment. “Come in our room again pervert. I’ll slit your throat in your sleep. Don’t think a locked door will stop me either.” He said coolly before climbing up and out. He paused again remembering why he originally was passing by his majesty’s room. “Right, dinners almost ready …” He said down the hatch. “... biantai de chou jidan (perverted cracked rotten egg).” Vas muttered heading to his room to return the stolen stuff.

As enticing as food sounded, Kinneas told himself there was no way in hell he was going to join that crazy bunch. It certainly wouldn’t be pleasant. He’d gone a few days without food after he’d ended up on Silverhold the first go-round, and they’d be at the waystation soon enough. There were a few credits left in his account to get something there, but rationalizing it only made him madder since he had begun considering the merits of a prison cell if he was caught.

OOC: JP between @Yule, @Aalakrys

About an hour had passed and the noise from the galley had died down signifying that dinner was likely finished. After a couple of minutes, a hollow metal knocking could be heard tapping on the hatch to Kinneas's bunk.

Not exactly wanting any more guests, Kinneas debated ignoring the noise until whoever it was either barged on in or went away. But, he’d rather not give them the option of coming in, so he climbed up the ladder and opened the hatch. “What?”

Doc smirked, holding a plate and a tin cup. "I see you've already got the disposition down pat for this boat." She pushed the items towards the new arrival for him to take. "Can't not eat or I'll look like I'm not doing my job." She paused waiting for the man to take his meal. "You're not gonna force me to break out the feeding tube, are ya?"

Kinneas had taken the offered meal, his brows knit in confusion as he looked down at it a moment, then back to the doctor. His ire was momentarily broken, but only just. “No, that’s ok. Thanks for making a house call, I guess. Is that it, though? No threat against my life or desire to see me suffer on the side?”

Doc chuckled. "Nah. Suffering's for med bay." She grinned. "Sides, it's not so bad. Got rice and…I think that's protein paste enriched stew." She jutted her chin towards the plate. "Might even find a carrot if you got lucky."

“I almost feel bad for not pushing for that gunshot wound now…” A faint hint of a smirk touched the corner of Kinneas’ lips briefly after a glance at the plate. It sounded dreadful.

"Oh and since you loved the coffee so much," Doc motioned to the tin mug, "gotcha a refill. Growing boy and all."

“I thought the suffering was for the medbay.” Kinneas glowered down at the tin cup, but sighed in miserable acceptance. “The thought is appreciated.”

Doc gave a shrug. "Just…quit making me look soft, alright?" She complained. "I got a reputation to think of." She stepped away from the hatch and gave Kinneas a lazy single finger temple salute before turning to leave. She wheeled around as if nearly forgetting something. "Oh and don't leave dirty dishes in your bunk," she advised, "space rats." She smirked and headed off in the direction of the cargo bay.

Kinneas was already considering how to get a plate and tin down a ladder when the doctor gave him the alarming news of an infestation. Since he’d been in his bunk all day and hadn’t seen anything, he chalked it up to her messing with him, but he hadn’t planned on finding out.

OOC: JP between @MK Blitzen, @Aalakrys

Once he managed to force himself to eat the unappetizing lot, which was sadly easier than it should have been given he hadn’t eaten since the apple, Kinneas actually did take the dishes to the sink in the galley to wash and put away, along with the other mug if it was still around.

“Heyyy,” Tim said lazily, a lopsided grin crossing his face as the new guy stepped in the galley. He made a show of sniffing the air near his own armpit. “Do I offend?”

"You're wondering why I didn't choose to demean myself further?" Kinneas' brow lifted as he turned on the spout to rinse off the dish, his eyes going to the task rather than engaging.

Tim sniffed again, deciding a shower wouldn’t hurt, his skin was in the need of a good moisturizing anyway, the air in the black was so dry. “Sorry?” The pilot asked, a slight rim planet accent lilt in his voice. “Demean yourself? With dinner, or with me? Just know in advance one of them answers is likely to hurt my feelings some.” Confusion crossed his brow, but his expression was more bemused than bewildered or begrudging.

Kinneas gave the pilot a blank look for a moment, then tilted his head slightly in consideration before shrugging a shoulder. “I don’t make a habit of sharing a meal with people who send invitations following a death threat. Sense of self-preservation and all.”

“I didn’t have a death threat scheduled, but I could probably pencil one in, I’m free up tomorrow morning,” Tim quipped, checking an imaginary schedule. “Come, sit. You play?” He took a deck of cards from the cargo pocket of his pants, slapping it face down on the table. “Name your game.”

Kinneas flicked the water off the plate once, glancing over at the table to see what the guy was talking about before looking where the plate was supposed to go. Cards. That got a hint of a smirk as the dish clinked into place on a drying rack. He dried his hands off and went around to join the pilot, against his better judgment. “You said something about tall card earlier. Guess it wouldn’t hurt to play a few. Though, if you plan on wagering your chores, I can’t promise me losing on purpose would save you since I’m getting off at the satellite stop.”

“It’s okay,” Tim replied, sliding the deck to the center of the table. He tapped the top card twice for Kinneas to cut the deck. “I don’t have to be a better player than you, I just have to be better than someone else. So what’s your play?”

"You don't think I have options?" Kinneas asked as he leaned back into the chair and reached out to cut the deck. "I have friends. Could get a fake ID and finally achieve my dream of becoming a companion. Not a bad gig, a lot more pleasurable."

“Male companion,” Tim said, bobbing his head to the side while giving it some thought. “I see it. Could be a lucrative career path for you, you’ve got the look, but you’re a little mature to start training with the guild, I think they start ‘em young. They’ll go an’ try an’ black list you, but Inamorato has a certain ring to it.” He took the cards back to thoughtfully shuffle them. “Course, face like that people are bound to remember.” He dealt out the first hand of tall card, “but most likely no one’ll be interested in any sorta reward interpol is offering, so ‘least that’s in your favor.”

OOC: JP between @MK Blitzen, @Aalakrys

"Flattery is a good start," Kinneas smirked and rubbed at his neck which was already more stubbly than he liked, momentarily studying the cards he'd lifted. "Care to share why you stick around the rays of sunshine and buckets of loose bolts? Piloting can't be a difficult job to find, so there has to be a reason..."

“Well, the pay is decent, work is steady, and sooner or later, even tight nuts loosen up.” Tim said, frowning at the cards he just dealt. “I don’t think anyone’s first choice in life is to go work on a Firefly, coast under the radar in the black, but we all got our stories, right? Dealer takes the tall. You up for a drink?”

“If it’s any more of that coffee, I think I’ll spare myself and pass.” Kinneas said as he lay his cards down. Not a bad hand, but not the best either.

“No,” Tim chuckled, nodding his head at the cards. “No coffee. It’s not top shelf, but –” He pulled a bottle of Old Earth Style Kentucky Bourbon from one of the shelves. “It won’t strip paint and it helps take the edge off. Neat, rocks? Soda water?”

Now someone is speaking my language. Kinneas’ brow lifted, this time in hesitant suspicion. “Bourbon neat… “ He tossed down two cards to trade, but waited to draw while he wondered what the other shoe was since everyone seemed to have one on this boat.

Tim returned with two small glasses and the bottle of bourbon, pouring two neat shots. “Player takes two,” he confirmed, sitting back down and dealing two cards. He slid the glass across the table. “It helps when the rays of sunshine turn cloudy.”

"Isn't that their perpetual state?" Kinneas asked as he lifted the glass and tilted it in thanks before lifting it to his lips. It'd been too long since his last drink, or maybe it was the stay on this ship. He lifted the corner of the dealt cards and found them favorable. “Damn, that’s good.”

“Smooth, smokey, and my favorite way to unwind. Well, one of ‘em anyway. The only one I can partake of in the black.” Tim let the comment slide, declaring himself like one of those planets that didn’t pick sides in the war - the one with the watches, good chocolate and tiny knives. “Your welcome to it, if I’m not around. Picked it up last time we were on Beaumonde.”

“I can’t help but be skeptical of your offer.” Kinneas said after a moment, a faint smile lingering. He was amused, but also wary.

“I have two more bottles,” Tim confessed, “So I’m not as altruistic as I seem. “Peaches, peaches are tall, playing for trash? Playing for trash.”

“I don’t have anything else to barter, so why not?” Kinneas half-lied again. “Won’t hurt me either way. I’ll take one.” He slid the discard to the lot and took another and winked. “You can keep the tall, dealer.”

OOC: JP between @MK Blitzen, @Aalakrys

“Dealer claims the tall.” Tim said with a smile in return. “Player what’s your hand?”

“Two Shiney Dancing Pairs,” Kinneas said as he laid the cards down, a stray apricot tagging along. “Nǐ ne? (And you?)”

Tim tsk’d and tossed his hand down. “High and Mighty Dragon, player takes the hand, dealer takes the trash. Another drink, another hand?”

“Can’t rightly leave when luck is in my favor.” Kinneas said as he moved his glass within reach of the bottle, two of his long list of vices aligning to make him feel a bit more relaxed. “I’ll take you up on that offer, though I don't have much to bet… hell, I don't even have a razor at the moment thanks to your rescue.”

“I should have an extra sundry bag,” the pilot said, tapping a thumb to his chin to think. “Never know when a better way to unwind may come a callin’ at port, so I try an’ have some spares on hand, toothbrush, razor, soaps and scrubs, that sort of thing. Sorry we can’t send for your things, Interpol’s likely crawling all over ‘em, but maybe the Skye kids’ll be able to liberate some of it when they hit Silverhold. Send Matty a list, when you get the notion.” He poured the man another drink, then dealt out the cards.

Kinneas sighed with a wistful smirk playing at his lips, "It's all likely to be gone - those men there haven't come into contact with a decent straight razor or exfoliant in their lives." He started shuffling the deck, trying not to think on which one of the fellas was flaunting the last of his custom cologne from Bellerophon. "I'll replace it - ya know, when I make it big as some wealthy old lady's paramore." He started dealing out the new hand. "Back to inner core worlds. Fresh water and air, fruit and cake every day, a lively nightlife... Civilization. That's where you're from, isn't it?"

“Ariel,” Tim confessed. “Grew up on Ariel, thought I was core for life, but,” he flipped over a card, making a face when it wasn’t one of the ones he were looking for, “wasn’t in the cards. Learned to make due.”

"Eh, Ariel is too straight-laced anyway. Great food, but that can be said about several core worlds. I've discovered a few border planets that know how to have a good time. More wild, even." There may have been a story there, but Kinneas wasn't going to dredge up anything. Plus, he thought it was weird to get a life story from a guy he just met. His separation of place was coming more back into focus now that he was more in his element. Speaking of, he took a sip of his second glass of bourbon and leaned on the table with his forearms as he studied his cards. "Tall is orange this hand."

“Tall is orange,” Tim repeated, nodding his head in agreement. “Do you like traveling? … Two.” He asked as he put two cards face down on the table, “or just been a lot of places?”

OOC: JP between @MK Blitzen, @Aalakrys

Kinneas dealt the two cards, taking one for himself that he traded. “Both. I’ve been to nearly every inner planet, and around a few systems in this second-life. A few moons. Some are more my style than others. This gig keeps you drifting as well, I imagine.”

“Some,” he said with a lopsided grin. “And same. Some it’ll be too soon if I ever have to go back, some, I am counting the days til we go back. I consider it a perk, but it’s not everyone’s cup of whisky. If I hate somewhere, I know it’s just for a few days. If I love it, won’t be long ‘fore we’re back. Heavy Boat, 3 Dragons. What’s your hand?

“Well, look at that…” Kinneas said as he lay down his cards: “Heavy boat, three dragons. Tall.” He grinned and slid his empty glass back to Tim with the tips of his fingers for his prize.

“Well,” Tim said, pouring another glass, “fuck my luck. Guess I’ll ante up a new toothbrush and some soap that smells less like tires, and more like morning rain. Bartered for it on Greenleaf when we were picking up the Skye kids.”

“Oh yeah? Rainforest doesn’t sound half-bad. Moderately better than sugary pomegranate.” Kinneas grinned as he took back his glass. “But Greenleaf, that’s a wild place. I’ll have to ask the kids what they were doing there next time I get a wave from them. Wonder what Isaac possibly got his head stuck in there…”

“Cannon,” Tim said, matterof-fact. “I saw selfies. He was mighty proud of it too. We baby proofed the ship for when they call for a taxi.”

“They certainly know how to keep it interesting.” Kinneas said in half amusement, half exasperation. “You’d think the kid would have learned by now… No sense of self-preservation, that one.”

“Good thing he’s got people looking out for them then, eh?” Tim replied, shuffling the deck for the next deal. “He’d learn to do all right on his lonesome if he had to. I’m just glad he’s got a choice.”

The amusement from his laugh died down as he pondered on the idea of choice, fingers of a hand steepled over the glass he twisted it. “Full circle, eh? I can do the whole dance, but prefer not to. It isn’t a choice for me to stay here with a captain who thinks he knows me as a -” he waved his hand absently, ”whatever he thinks, and a kid who’s already out to murder me for a misunderstanding. You and the girl and the doc? Ain’t half bad - less so with dinner and drink shared.”

“If we were dancing, I’d have on better music, shiny shoes, and preferably an outfit that the doc would call dapper,” Tim assured him, fanning out the deck to shuffle, before taking another drink himself. “Don’t worry - I’m not out to change any minds - if I were a better salesman, I likely wouldn’t have ended up flyin’ a Firefly class ‘cross the verse. Fox trusts you, that’s good enough for me. I know the Skye’s talked you up. I figure we all got common ground somewhere. Least I can do is try an help find it. Berries are tall.”

OOC: JP between @MK Blitzen, @Aalakrys

“Then I claim tall.” Kinneas said, his jaw setting a little as he thought more than he shared. He blink it away once with a smile returning, leaning back slightly. It was done in sequence with the hand he looked at, but other thoughts were at play. “The Skyes talked me up, huh? I’ll have to remember that. Got a card to swap, two actually.”

“Two for the player, dealer takes three,” Tim decided. “They’re good people. I mean, for bad people, depending on what lens you’re looking through. Fox wouldn’t keep ‘em around otherwise. And he wouldn’t be so concerned ‘bout clearing your name if he didn’t think you were good people. And Fox wouldn’t keep sendin’ work our way if he didn’t think kindly of us. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying that everyone Fox works with gets along, but he’s pretty thorough ‘bout vetting people out. ‘Sides, it’s a big boat. Plenty of elbow room for everyone.”

“So you’re saying to play it like cards.” Kinneas said slowly, laying down four shiny dragons and the berries. “Play the hand you're dealt strategically the best you can and hope luck's on your side for the rest."

“I’ll throw in a sugar scrub,” Tim said, laying out a cratemaker countdown. “And I’ll be honest, I wasn’t sure where I was going with that or if I was making any sort of metaphor, but sometimes I get lucky.”

"Lucky sans sugar scrub. Guess it can be a peace offering for the kid." Kinneas said, finishing off his decidedly last glass. If he had any more, he'd probably go make things worse when it was starting to look marginally better. "Going to need it if I'm putting off finding that rich old lady on Pelorum for now." He picked up his glass, motioning to Tim's in asking if he were done, to be washed. He glanced at the chore list in passing, one he'd pointedly ignored until now. "Gotta say, half this stuff, you all would regret me doing and the other half I've never done."

“You can mark your name down for Trash detail, owe you that fair and square. My advice, never sign up for anything with an L - Latrine, laundry, pass. Never wash dishes if drying is an option, there’s more dignity in drying.”

Standing and focusing on the list, Kinneas started to feel those three drinks turn his brain as he read what passed as usual ship chores. Sweeping up the cargo bay and cleaning the toilets writing in utilitarian scrawl were a big ‘no thanks.’ He wrote a captain ‘K’ next to trash. “Dishes aren’t so bad - but I’m guessing laundry is mass done to save on water? That’s unfortunate. I’d rather not deal with anyone else’s dirty sheets. Yours included, ace, and you seem best stocked on hygiene products.”

“No offense taken,” Tim chuckled, putting the deck aside. “I seen what goes on in my bunk. I do my own laundry, my shorts are my business, and anything that close to my best bits, I don’t entrust my crown jewels to just anyone. Breakfast isn’t a bad gig if you’re an early riser. I’ve made Tim Toast Tuesdays a staple.”

OOC: JP between @MK Blitzen, @Aalakrys

“Toast? Éryǐ? (That’s it?)” Kinneas chuckled, his brows knit as he attempted to focus to see who had signed up for what. Trash was a free pass, but he had to figure out when this list went up for next time - if there was a next time. “Still, more than I know how to do.” Recalling he had a glass in his hand, he went on his way to the sink again. “That’s one of those things everyone will regret if I get assigned to.”

“Bread, toaster, press a button, pretty genius if you ask me,” Tim said with a chuckle. “Besides, this is a Firefly. Open a can, heat, serve. Meals Ready to Eat, Protein paste, there’s not much you can do to make ‘em taste worse. That’s why you’ll see the first thing we do when we paid dockside? You go out and eat like a king.”

"Ah, that I can do." Kinneas said, not exactly enthused. His previous life included a chef on his father's boat where he'd always eaten like a king and he'd heard tales of Fireflys that were inexplicably well stocked with an abundance of rare treats. Not that he was hopeful for this one. The last twenty-four hours had taught him not to bother. "But, I warned you - I burn most things I've tried, and there's been attempts at ready-made. Usually, stick to protein powder after burning that paste… it was quite possibly the worst fucking thing I smelled in my life."

“Easier to drink in the cockpit,” Tim said agreeably. “We make do. That’s why the apples are all gone..”

"You know, you have to be the most agreeable guy I've ever met." Kinneas laughed as he sat the washed glass alongside the cup and plate from earlier. "This ship has some interesting Qi going on, that's for damn sure."

“I’m much more contrary once you get to know me,” Tim replied with a grin as he stood up to stretch his back. “Plenty of people on the boat happy to oblige if you’re looking for a fight, but If you’re looking for a drink, I’m usually in the cockpit. I’ll see what I can dig up by way of some comforts of home and have pigtails drop ‘em off.”

“That actually doesn’t sound half bad.” Kinneas mused as he returned to the damnedable chore list only to give it the side eye before leaning back against the wall. “Don’t think I’m ready to be a cougar’s kept wánjù (toy) just yet… so maybe I can stick around some.”

Though he was still wasn’t one hundred percent sold on the idea of sticking with the motley crew that made up the Lunar Veil, Kinneas had not gotten off on the waystation between where they’d been when he woke up and New Kasmir. Instead, he’d spent the few days leading up to the final call weighing the pros and cons, and spending more time than usual on the cortex news waves. As of yet, his father had not made a statement despite all the attempts, but that wasn’t surprising. Besides, anyone who’d ever crossed his path seemed more than willing enough to give character accounts, much to his amusement and annoyance.

Between that and the weight of the fluctuating con list, his options truly were limited. Sure, he had contacts, but so far nearly all of them told him to stay where-ever he was. That just happened to be with the most dysfunctional family-type he’d ever come across, which he didn’t share even with those that came close to trusted friends. The mystery was more attractive than the truth, anyway.

Kinneas’ only true hang-up had been how to get creds in this situation. The little he’d saved for downtime on Silverhold until the next job came along wouldn’t last, and now he couldn’t exactly go looking for another job with being a crazed arsonist and all. And his new captain hadn’t quite let him speak for his skills that first day, so he was basically a freeloader at this point. It didn’t bother him in the slightest given the ornery old man’s demeanor, but that also meant no work aside from cleaning toilets - which he’d not been forced to do as of yet, thankfully.

Like a handful of times in his past, he felt out of options. Trapped, regardless of being free to leave - because he wasn’t, not exactly. Rather than spending the remainder of the trip to New Kasmir in his head once they departed the satellite station with him still on the ship, Kinneas wasted time exploring the common areas of the ship. He took Tim up on the offer to stop by the flight deck if it was captain-free, and for a drink and hand of cards, but spent most of his time in the designated gym area once he discovered it.

Somewhere between then and touching down planet-side, Kinneas had a row with the laundry machine when his limited clothes ran low. He also regulated himself to trash duty and typically trailed in near the end of meal times to avoid any unnecessary extra time spent with half the crew. It was miserable - living on a ship, he decided on the seventh day. And so very boring. Granted, he was isolating himself for the most part, but pride and pettiness were still leading that decision. What he really needed was air - preferably salty sea air, but that wasn’t an option just yet. Instead, he actually found himself looking forward to that earthy clear air of orchards despite himself and then shook away that notion. Fun was what he needed, not some bloody apple-scented air.

OOC: JP between @MK Blitzen, @Aalakrys

“Making yourself at home?” Tim asked, taking a break to spend some time on the treadmill. He prided himself on his swimmer’s body, and it didn’t just maintain itself. Plus you never know when being chased might become a reality for one reason or another, and when it did, there was no time to get winded. The pilot draped a towel around his neck, partially covering the white tank he wore to stay cool when working out.

Kinneas hadnt had a spotter, so instead of bench pressing, Tim found him doing frontal squats with the barbell instead. He grunted as lifted to place the weights back on the rack, having just finished a set. A little breather than casual, given the work out he'd just given himself, he said: "As cozy a place as any on this ship." He'd given a wave with the back of his hand at the collection of exercise equipment. It wasn't anything spectacular, but broke up his boredom some and kept him in shape. "Nǐ de dú shì shénme? (What's your poison?)"

“Cardio, Pilates, treadmill man myself - I don’t lift weights,” Tim said with a tsk of his head, “I avoid heavy lifting, it carries over into more of a life mantra. Get a jog on, you forget you’re out in the black and could potentially hit an asteroid or be boarded by pirates, or run into some trouble of the purple persuasion and just take a stroll. You?” He asked while stretching out his hamstrings.

The sense of levity came a fresh break as Kinneas couldn't help the easy chuckle at the pilot's demeanor. It was how he usually operated as well, though lately self-pity was making him bitter again onboard the Lunar Veil. "You're in the minority of not being able to look at me and make an assumption here, you know?" Kinneas sat on the bench for a rest as he wiped sweat from his brow. He grinned. "Or you keep it to yourself, at least." He stretched out his left forearm by pulling it across his chest and holding it at the elbow with his right forearm, keeping up the idle chatter he found welcome once again. "I learned I was well-rounded on (insert planet name) in officer camp. Used to be for the look till then. Keep it up for practical purposes now - not that it'd do much good against an asteroid."

“I’m not big on assumptions, best way to know something is ask. Too many people in the verse just feel they inherently know something or someone, then puff up with pride on their instincts. Way I see it, you wanna look for good or bad, you’re always gonna find it.” Tim replied, starting out on the manual treadmill.

"Yeah, that - or jealousy." Kinneas said with a grin before waving in indication of his own build. "I mean, c'mon. I don't have to work hard." The amusement didn't leave his eyes though he knew Tim's words could apply to the easy life he'd had as well. He chose to stay with levity. "Speaking of, you'd come to my rescue me if I fail in an attempt to do some lifting here?" He indicated the bench he sat on.

“Sure thing, K-Guns,” Tim teased, picking up the pace. “Just keep in mind my stance on heavy lifting.”

OOC: JP between @Winters, @MK Blitzen, @Aalakrys

“You say you ain’t working hard but it looks like you're working extra hard there.” Vas sniped noting the peacock display as he sauntered in. He was already dressed for another session with Serena, a bit of his tattoo peeking from the top of his tank top, his hands already wrapped and he went to the rack where he had been keeping their practice weapons.

Kinneas rolled his eyes but stayed focused on what he was doing.

Serena side-glanced to her future husband before refocusing on the task at hand, and the wooden knives her Onii removed from the rack. “Heya Kinneas.” She crooned before crinkling her nose. “Tim,” she added with disdain.

“Short Stack,” Tim replied with a chuckle, then nodded to address Vas, “Flapjack, stabbing practice today?”

"Care to join in? Serena could always use the practice on someone that ain't me, of course, I understand if you can’t handle getting your ass thrown around by a sixteen-year-old." Vas responded to Tim innocently.

“C’mon Tim,” Serena snapped in response, holding her hands in a boxing stance while dancing on her toes.

Tim snorted. “You understand, yet you keep offering, it’s a fight where even if I win, I lose. You and Pigtails have at it.”

"I love your positive attitude, that you think you have a chance against my Serena." Vas chuckled.

Serena puffed up with pride, standing straighter, her shoulders raising to her ears and dropping while a smile spread over her face.

“My ego needs no checking,” Tim assured him. “Besides, it’s like I said. I’m not a fighter, I’m a bleeder.”

The metal clanked as Kinneas set the bar back from the first set. From his reclined position, he thoughtfully said: "Good causes need those, too. 'sides, I bet the girl wouldn't cut you up too much, would ya, Xiao Hua (Little Flower)?"He turned his head on the bench with a hint of a smirk at Serena. "Pilot has to fly the ship and all."

Serena giggled, the tips of her ears turning pink from the attention, as she shook her head no, her pigtails following suit.

OOC: JP between @Winters, @MK Blitzen, @Aalakrys

“You say you ain’t working hard but it looks like you're working extra hard there.” Vas sniped noting the peacock display as he sauntered in. He was already dressed for another session with Serena, a bit of his tattoo peeking from the top of his tank top, his hands already wrapped and he went to the rack where he had been keeping their practice weapons.

Kinneas rolled his eyes but stayed focused on what he was doing.

Serena side-glanced to her future husband before refocusing on the task at hand, and the wooden knives her Onii removed from the rack. “Heya Kinneas.” She crooned before crinkling her nose. “Tim,” she added with disdain.

“Short Stack,” Tim replied with a chuckle, then nodded to address Vas, “Flapjack, stabbing practice today?”

"Care to join in? Serena could always use the practice on someone that ain't me, of course, I understand if you can’t handle getting your ass thrown around by a sixteen-year-old." Vas responded to Tim innocently.

“C’mon Tim,” Serena snapped in response, holding her hands in a boxing stance while dancing on her toes.

Tim snorted. “You understand, yet you keep offering, it’s a fight where even if I win, I lose. You and Pigtails have at it.”

"I love your positive attitude, that you think you have a chance against my Serena." Vas chuckled.

Serena puffed up with pride, standing straighter, her shoulders raising to her ears and dropping while a smile spread over her face.

“My ego needs no checking,” Tim assured him. “Besides, it’s like I said. I’m not a fighter, I’m a bleeder.”

The metal clanked as Kinneas set the bar back from the first set. From his reclined position, he thoughtfully said: "Good causes need those, too. 'sides, I bet the girl wouldn't cut you up too much, would ya, Xiao Hua (Little Flower)?"He turned his head on the bench with a hint of a smirk at Serena. "Pilot has to fly the ship and all."

Serena giggled, the tips of her ears turning pink from the attention, as she shook her head no, her pigtails following suit.

OOC: JP between @Winters, @MK Blitzen, @Aalakrys

Vas wrinkled his nose at pet name and then frowned at the adult flirting with his teenage sister as if he needed further confirmation Goldilocks was a creep. "Bleeders or Pilots?" He asked, casually tossing a wood knife at Serena to catch.

“It’s a wood knife,” Serena said pragmatically holding it up for Kinneas to see. “No blood. Just splinters.”

"Anything can make someone bleed if you try hard enough." Kinneas said after giving the wooden blade a once over before turning his attention back to the bar above him.

Vas gave the peacock a flat look, noting how his question was brushed off. "You gonna stand there all moon brained cuz if you are …" Vas said to Serena letting his threat hang.

Serena’s cheeks turned red with embarrassment at Vas’ comment, but she knew his tone well enough to refocus on the task at hand, trailing after him. “See ya later Kinneas,” she said brightly, ignoring the pilot.

Kinneas gave a short flick of his wrist after setting the bar back. He looked over to Tim, stage whispering as he watched the pair begin their training. "What's their deal? The kid - Pigtails - said they're siblings, but not or something? That was a really hazy first day, and she wasn't helping with her chattering." He rubbed at his head, a phantom of a dull ache beneath his fingertips. "And they are… knife fighters? Circus act?" He chuckled at the idea of Vas’ expression in regards to spandex would look like.

“He belongs to some temple, as far as she tells it, monks of some sort.” Tim explained, letting himself slide off the back of the treadmill for a water break. .”They go back whenever we’re near Lilac. He’s either showing her the ropes, or maybe just a little zealous, wants to make sure she can take care of herself, because the verse isn’t exactly a forgiving place. I figure war orphans, there’s plenty of ‘em out there, sticking together, I’m not 100% sure on that, it hasn’t much come up. The both of ‘em sometimes go off, do their own thing, Jago don’t much mind if you want to freelance as long as you don’t track shit in with you. You know?” He tossed a towel over to Kinneas, picking up his own as well.

"Trying to lift my spirits with that last bit after the sad orphan story?" Kinneas smirked after catching the towel just as he sat up. "I've already tracked more than my fair share while unconscious so I can't really say it's a good time to tempt fate, and Fox is the only one who knows where I am." He rubbed at his forehead and neck with the towel, speaking speculatively again as if mulling it over and still coming to terms. He looked up with a smirk though. "I'm back on that companion idea - or the off-brand one anyway. Could find out if any big to-dos are going on and see if anyone needs an escort. Figure everyone needs company for those shindigs."

OOC: JP between @Winters, @MK Blitzen, @Aalakrys

“That’s a risk you take when you ask for someone’s deal on a Firefly,” Tim said, taking a long pull from his water bottle. “Nobody ends up on a ship like this by making good choices, or by having other ones. But if you’re looking for work as a companion, New Kasmir is the perfect place to try it out, plenty of fine folk looking for company.”

Behind them Vas and Serena when at it the girls thrusts, jabs and slashes where met with counters, the clack of Vas's wooden knife meeting her and air.

Serena thrusted her wooded blade pushing for an advantage as Vas skipped back like a water bug. She got too eager and sayle the trage to late as Vas locked her arm, disarmed her and as the wooden practice weapon clack on the metal flooring she was just as quick flattened on the floor feeling a gentle jab on her neck.

"You’re dead pigtails." Vas said, helping her back up. "Again." He encouraged her

Serena physically shook it off, her pigtails swinging to and fro with the motion. “Again?” she asked, not able to keep the whine out of her voice. Getting one upped was bad. Getting one up… in front of the new guy?

“My chances are lookin’ better an’ better,” Tim called over.

"Oh I'm sorry, are you tired? Would you rather do something else?" Vas said innocently enough.

Serena contemplated. Whenever Vas used that tone of voice, the something else usually turned out to be wall sitting, duck walking, or something with stance in the title. “No,” she relented.

"You sure I mean if you're not up for it I got other ideas?" He said with a devious smile as he squared up on her.

Serena held the knife in a fighting stance, signaling she was ready. “Whatever they are, I’m sure I won’t like ‘em,” she lamented, waiting for his opening move.

"Probably." Vas shrug and stepped in with a feint. The duo moved quickly as they clashed. Serena narrowly missed kicking Vas in the gut. Vas caught the leg jabbing her inner leg with his wooden knife before sweeping her to the flat of her back. "See Tim you're missing out? That could be you." He joked, helping Serena up.

“If I’m flat on my back, I’ll be otherwise occupied,” Tim said in return. “And seeing as this is too painful to watch, I’m going to go hit the showers. Shortstack, I’ll ask Doc to leave you some aspirin.”

OOC: JP between @Winters, @MK Blitzen, @Aalakrys

"Whhhaaaaatt? I'm not tossing her around that bad. I'm not tossing you that bad right Mei Mei?" Vas said chalking up Tim's weak stomach up to him never learning to break a fall.

Serena giggled and made an iffy gesture with her hand. She shook it off and turned, readying her stance.

"See! She's fine! Here I am being all gentle like." Vas said, matching her stance and letting her make the first move.

"You two come across a lot of fancy fighting ninja-types that need pummeling?" Kinneas asked after his last set break, applying the towel to the back of his neck.

“You’d be surprised,” Serena told him. “An’ besides, it’s better to be prepared, ‘stead off caught off guard.”

“You’d be surprised how many places check your peice so being more than useless when throwing hands is better then always being dependant on your hardware.” Vas pointed out swiping at Serena to make sure she was paying attention.

“If you wanted to practice…” Serena said, luckily dodging the fake knife, “You’re always welcome.”

“You wish.” Vas snarked at his sister. “Look how strait his nose is!”

“It fits his face just perfect,” she said dreamily.

"Not the point I was making." Vas said dryly.

"He was trying to say I must be good at keeping it that way," Kinneas grinned as he stood up. Arms were done, time for some core. "Or just smart enough to stay where I'm better suited. Either way, thanks kid."

"Still not the point I was making." Vas repeated as he twisted Serena into a hold for her to try and escape from.

“Course!” Serena said, struggling to get free by kicking out her feet. “You’re one of us now, Kinneas, that means…” she tried to bite her onii’s wrist with no avail, “you’re always included.”

"Well … I would go that far …" Vas muttered irritability. "... Take a moment and think Mei Mei, how I'm holding and the best way to move in order to break it." He calmly advised her.