AlteredTundra
ButtsnBalls
LG
Lord Wraith
Qia
Fading Memory
Hound55
Little Bird
Abstract Proxy
TheMushroomLord
Collab Between @psych0pomp & @Aalakrys
It was about halfway through the day, or cycle as was want to be noted in the black, when Penelope found herself slightly startled at the sudden blur of color that swooped past her pilot seat. She looked up at the fluttering of feathers just in time to see the cutest little critter glide over her console and down into the forward storage. It didn’t take her but a second to recover upon seeing the beautiful plumage, realizing it was the previously mentioned parrot. Eager hazel eyes peeked over and downward, searching for where the bird had gone.
She spotted it just as it tucked down into a space in the hardware of the avionics bay. “Well, hello, there. Seems we have a guest visitin’ today.”
Of course, she was talking to Sam - they’d become quick pals in the last day. But, Sam didn’t always pick up on when the pilot was addressing her. Mostly because Penelope spoke aloud more often than not, a habit over the years. The AI didn’t respond though, and that was curious - Penelope had gotten used to questions. She looked over at the box, and it continued whirring and clicking.
Lucky looked up at Penelope, his large black eyes reflecting the dim lighting in the cabin. He fluffed up, his feathers bolstered by the thick down underneath. He made a few clicking noises, conspiratorial in nature, before tucking his head into the warmth of his hiding spot.
Rex’s footsteps never muted or cautious, thrummed through the hallway as he passed into the tight quarters that formed the bridge. He’d seen a handful of them in his lifetime, and this was not his first time aboard the China Doll’s. Yet, it was the first time with this new pilot.
He tapped gingerly on the frame of the door. “Knock, knock,” he said, sing-songily. “Rex Black here, just your First Mate checking in.” He glanced around, trying to see if he could spot Lucky somewhere amongst the beeps and boops of machinery he had no idea about. Instead, he only saw their pilot. He sighed. “I’m actually looking for my bird. Lucky fly in here? Small thing. Annoying. Proud of himself. Too proud, if you ask me.”
At the tapping against the doorway, along with the accompanying melodic greeting, Penelope turned her eyes from the silent box to see that large man she’d overheard chatting with Cal. First Mate, Rex Black. She could remember that - especially since she’d guessed the position from what she’d gathered.
He was taller up closer. Or maybe she was just very small. Regardless, she smiled softly and pointed down the stairs leading to the nose of the ship. “Seems Lucky decided to join me in my nest.”
Her directive hand moved towards the large man, fingers uncurling. “Penelope Randell, temporary resident of said nest.”
Penelope Randall looked younger than he would have thought for a pilot. But Cal knew his ship better than Rex did. If the captain trusted her with his ole rust bird, then he had to as well. He approached her, not one to let a good handshake go unreturned. His hand practically dwarfed hers as he shook it, but it felt strong in his grip. His father would always say that handshakes could telegraph someone easily. Of course, everyone’s dad said that sort of shit. Rex’s father wasn’t some unsung hero of social cues.
“That figures,” he said, looking past the pilot to see Lucky’s vibrant plumage, not at all hidden by the neutral hues of the cockpit. “I guess I’ll let him have a few minutes of pride before the fall of returning him to his cage. He usually has better manners than this, but it’s been a while since he’s been here and all the corners are unfamiliar. That’s the thing with birds. They’ll take to all the sky they want, but they feel the safest in familiar and tight spaces. Kind of like pilots, I suppose.” He brought his arms up, tapping the top side of his rings against the metal ceiling. At that, Penelope's soft smile touched her lips as she seamlessly slid into her seat, bare foot lifting to tuck right in. The analogy made her eyes twinkle. "Suppose so."
Today’s outfit was more of the same of yesterday’s, khaki pants, nice boots, and a bright t-shirt with a wallowed out collar. It was hard to tell if that had been on purpose or if he’d been pulled along by it constantly. “So, a Pen-ny for your thoughts. What brings you here? Not a lot of pilots on Persephone would be fine with calling a Firefly their home.”
"I'm not from Persephone." Penelope mirrored his more civil-speak, though still holding that gentle hint of amusement as she considered how much like a bird this man thought himself - wearing such vivid colors to attract eyes? Most likely, from what little bit she overheard the day previous. "I needed to find passage home, but I'm always up for a detour. Luck has it, this ship needed a pilot. One that was willing to call it her home for the time being."
Her lips spread into a brighter smile. "And you? Word is a man with his bird came aboard sporting a bloody nose, and the Captain was surprised his First Mate returned."
“Fair. I suppose that not a lot of people call Persephone their permanent home. All the best people always leave.” He winked, lowering his arms and sliding his hands into his pockets. He rummaged around for only a moment before procuring some dried seeds. “Word is right, and I don’t know if I can add many more words to that sentence. I’m an old friend of Cal’s. We spent a few years in close quarters aboard the China Doll, and even closer quarters stowing away in a crate of turtles from Dubai Six. Long story, but to get to the moral of it: not a lot of people find me as charming as I think I am. Hence the bloody nose, hence the turtles, and hence the seed.” He lifted his hand to her. “You want some? Lucky’ll be your best friend.”
Sam whirred on in the momentary silence of Penelope obviously weighing what all the big man said. Open wasn't what she expected, though she rarely had expectations of people. The offered pile of seeds in the large outstretched hand at the end of it, well, earned a chuckle. She reached to take a pinch, pausing with her slightly calloused fingers just above, and looked up at him with that amused glint in her eye. "Heard he bites."
Rex feigned a gasp. “Lies. All lies. Sweetest thing with a beak this side of the Core Worlds. Who told you that?” His brows furrowed somewhat comically. “Cal Junior? The captain? The only person Lucky has never liked was the man I bought him from. Said that he was a curse. Well, I’m still here and so is the China Doll.”
This time Penelope laughed, then shook her head slightly as she took that pinch of seed. She dropped the mirrored speech, favoring her more relaxed way of speaking. "Ain't much one for curses - make my own luck. But… Cal Junior?"
She'd asked as she stood, leaning over her console with the seeds she dropped into her palm outstretched, eyes on the little fluffed up feathers below. "Cap'n has a kid?"
Lucky glanced up as the shadow of Penelope fell upon him. He seemed to almost squint before he rotated his head to the side and saw the seed. That’s all it took. A quick flutter and he was on her hand. He weighed nothing, and his claws wrapped around her finger more as a way to steady himself than to latch onto her. He leaned down and grabbed a seed before pulling it away and working it open in his hooked beak.
“Oh, no.” Rex pocketed the rest of the seed. “That young deckhand. The girl with that horrible drawl and inability to be phased or flustered. I want to see how she handles cleaning a latrine. Will it be just a plain ‘ell I-ain’t never seen nuffin li-e tha’ befur’ as she robotically wipes shit off the ceiling?”
While Rex spoke on about who Penelope had to assume was Abby since the only other deckhand she'd met was Hook, she watched the little bird eating with what could've been endearment. Carefully, she drew in the hand so she didn't jostle the bird, and turned to look at the big guy as she returned to her seat with Lucky. With her eyes still on the bird, she tilted her head a bit as she said in more soft speculation than anything else: "I don't know much about the responsibilities of a First Mate, since I've never been one myself, but seems like hazin' the folk who have the grunt work wouldn't be part of it. Lettin' Abbs under your skin on account of who she is, well … she might be messin' with ya just ta get that rile outta ya."
At that, she grinned up at Rex, somewhat apologetically but still amused before she tested holding a finger of her other hand up to offer rubs for the little bird.
Lucky seemed unphased by the movement. More content to chirp warmly as he plucked the seed from her hand. Rex, on the other hand, watched Penelope as she moved back to her seat. It wasn’t the sort of look that a father might give someone holding their child. More like he was nervous about holding up his end of the bargain that Lucky wasn’t a biter.
“Abby, that’s right.” They’d exchanged names, but Rex had to admit that calling her Cal Junior was more amusing to him than stating her real name. “She’s the sort that doesn’t mind a bit of picking. If anything, she’s better about giving it back than I ever could. If she heard what I said, she’d be like ‘the First Mate’s dressed like a peacock they set on fire because he wouldn’t stop yappin’, and still didn’t stop afterwards,’ or ‘he sure does talk like someone rammed a stick of soap up his arse so far that his words come out like shit bubbles.’” He shrugged. “Part of the job of the First Mate is being able to read people. And, Penelope, you standing up for her just proves you are like a bird. Never poke one when they’re in their tight and comfy place. They just bite back.”
Despite Rex’s warning, Lucky allowed Penelope to pet him. Maybe it was a bit self serving, or maybe she had smaller fingers than Rex, and it was far less smothering.
"One bird to another, then, Peacock," Her hazel eyes flickered upwards briefly, delighted smile still fixed in place as Lucky bobbed against the single finger atop his head. "I'd say it's all about the intent."
When she felt the incredibly fragile little skull stop its pressure against her finger, Penelope lifted it away. She grinned as Lucky went for the last seed in her palm. "And just how proud the other is. For a peacock, I'd wager you know that already, or ya wouldn't be as observant for all your bright plumage and all."
Knowing what it was like to steady against movement, Penelope lifted Lucky in a manner so he wouldn't go off kilter as she offered him back up to his dad with her final amicable words.
Lucky seemed content, fluffing up before settling down in a position that harbored back to a hen gone to roost. Yet, when Penelope lifted him, he seemed to almost sigh before fluttering off her digits and onto Rex’s shoulder. Unfortunately, he wasn’t dressed with anything sporting an elaborate collar. So, he just slid down the length of the neck hole and then inverted himself into the shirt. Rex seemed almost a bit flabbergasted before straightening up.
“When you're as bright colored as I am, you try not to be shot at. And because my aim is shit, I try to use words as my weapon. Anyway, pleasure to meet you and all. Have fun nesting. I’m sure Lucky will be back. It is warm up here, despite all the black.:”
Rex gave a stilted bow, unsure what to do with his current passenger before leaving. He paused by the door, though. “And I’d never make little Cal Junior clean up my latrine. I tend to my own messes.” He tapped the metallic frame before disappearing, a soft whistle following him.
She spotted it just as it tucked down into a space in the hardware of the avionics bay. “Well, hello, there. Seems we have a guest visitin’ today.”
Of course, she was talking to Sam - they’d become quick pals in the last day. But, Sam didn’t always pick up on when the pilot was addressing her. Mostly because Penelope spoke aloud more often than not, a habit over the years. The AI didn’t respond though, and that was curious - Penelope had gotten used to questions. She looked over at the box, and it continued whirring and clicking.
Lucky looked up at Penelope, his large black eyes reflecting the dim lighting in the cabin. He fluffed up, his feathers bolstered by the thick down underneath. He made a few clicking noises, conspiratorial in nature, before tucking his head into the warmth of his hiding spot.
Rex’s footsteps never muted or cautious, thrummed through the hallway as he passed into the tight quarters that formed the bridge. He’d seen a handful of them in his lifetime, and this was not his first time aboard the China Doll’s. Yet, it was the first time with this new pilot.
He tapped gingerly on the frame of the door. “Knock, knock,” he said, sing-songily. “Rex Black here, just your First Mate checking in.” He glanced around, trying to see if he could spot Lucky somewhere amongst the beeps and boops of machinery he had no idea about. Instead, he only saw their pilot. He sighed. “I’m actually looking for my bird. Lucky fly in here? Small thing. Annoying. Proud of himself. Too proud, if you ask me.”
At the tapping against the doorway, along with the accompanying melodic greeting, Penelope turned her eyes from the silent box to see that large man she’d overheard chatting with Cal. First Mate, Rex Black. She could remember that - especially since she’d guessed the position from what she’d gathered.
He was taller up closer. Or maybe she was just very small. Regardless, she smiled softly and pointed down the stairs leading to the nose of the ship. “Seems Lucky decided to join me in my nest.”
Her directive hand moved towards the large man, fingers uncurling. “Penelope Randell, temporary resident of said nest.”
Penelope Randall looked younger than he would have thought for a pilot. But Cal knew his ship better than Rex did. If the captain trusted her with his ole rust bird, then he had to as well. He approached her, not one to let a good handshake go unreturned. His hand practically dwarfed hers as he shook it, but it felt strong in his grip. His father would always say that handshakes could telegraph someone easily. Of course, everyone’s dad said that sort of shit. Rex’s father wasn’t some unsung hero of social cues.
“That figures,” he said, looking past the pilot to see Lucky’s vibrant plumage, not at all hidden by the neutral hues of the cockpit. “I guess I’ll let him have a few minutes of pride before the fall of returning him to his cage. He usually has better manners than this, but it’s been a while since he’s been here and all the corners are unfamiliar. That’s the thing with birds. They’ll take to all the sky they want, but they feel the safest in familiar and tight spaces. Kind of like pilots, I suppose.” He brought his arms up, tapping the top side of his rings against the metal ceiling. At that, Penelope's soft smile touched her lips as she seamlessly slid into her seat, bare foot lifting to tuck right in. The analogy made her eyes twinkle. "Suppose so."
Today’s outfit was more of the same of yesterday’s, khaki pants, nice boots, and a bright t-shirt with a wallowed out collar. It was hard to tell if that had been on purpose or if he’d been pulled along by it constantly. “So, a Pen-ny for your thoughts. What brings you here? Not a lot of pilots on Persephone would be fine with calling a Firefly their home.”
"I'm not from Persephone." Penelope mirrored his more civil-speak, though still holding that gentle hint of amusement as she considered how much like a bird this man thought himself - wearing such vivid colors to attract eyes? Most likely, from what little bit she overheard the day previous. "I needed to find passage home, but I'm always up for a detour. Luck has it, this ship needed a pilot. One that was willing to call it her home for the time being."
Her lips spread into a brighter smile. "And you? Word is a man with his bird came aboard sporting a bloody nose, and the Captain was surprised his First Mate returned."
“Fair. I suppose that not a lot of people call Persephone their permanent home. All the best people always leave.” He winked, lowering his arms and sliding his hands into his pockets. He rummaged around for only a moment before procuring some dried seeds. “Word is right, and I don’t know if I can add many more words to that sentence. I’m an old friend of Cal’s. We spent a few years in close quarters aboard the China Doll, and even closer quarters stowing away in a crate of turtles from Dubai Six. Long story, but to get to the moral of it: not a lot of people find me as charming as I think I am. Hence the bloody nose, hence the turtles, and hence the seed.” He lifted his hand to her. “You want some? Lucky’ll be your best friend.”
Sam whirred on in the momentary silence of Penelope obviously weighing what all the big man said. Open wasn't what she expected, though she rarely had expectations of people. The offered pile of seeds in the large outstretched hand at the end of it, well, earned a chuckle. She reached to take a pinch, pausing with her slightly calloused fingers just above, and looked up at him with that amused glint in her eye. "Heard he bites."
Rex feigned a gasp. “Lies. All lies. Sweetest thing with a beak this side of the Core Worlds. Who told you that?” His brows furrowed somewhat comically. “Cal Junior? The captain? The only person Lucky has never liked was the man I bought him from. Said that he was a curse. Well, I’m still here and so is the China Doll.”
This time Penelope laughed, then shook her head slightly as she took that pinch of seed. She dropped the mirrored speech, favoring her more relaxed way of speaking. "Ain't much one for curses - make my own luck. But… Cal Junior?"
She'd asked as she stood, leaning over her console with the seeds she dropped into her palm outstretched, eyes on the little fluffed up feathers below. "Cap'n has a kid?"
Lucky glanced up as the shadow of Penelope fell upon him. He seemed to almost squint before he rotated his head to the side and saw the seed. That’s all it took. A quick flutter and he was on her hand. He weighed nothing, and his claws wrapped around her finger more as a way to steady himself than to latch onto her. He leaned down and grabbed a seed before pulling it away and working it open in his hooked beak.
“Oh, no.” Rex pocketed the rest of the seed. “That young deckhand. The girl with that horrible drawl and inability to be phased or flustered. I want to see how she handles cleaning a latrine. Will it be just a plain ‘ell I-ain’t never seen nuffin li-e tha’ befur’ as she robotically wipes shit off the ceiling?”
While Rex spoke on about who Penelope had to assume was Abby since the only other deckhand she'd met was Hook, she watched the little bird eating with what could've been endearment. Carefully, she drew in the hand so she didn't jostle the bird, and turned to look at the big guy as she returned to her seat with Lucky. With her eyes still on the bird, she tilted her head a bit as she said in more soft speculation than anything else: "I don't know much about the responsibilities of a First Mate, since I've never been one myself, but seems like hazin' the folk who have the grunt work wouldn't be part of it. Lettin' Abbs under your skin on account of who she is, well … she might be messin' with ya just ta get that rile outta ya."
At that, she grinned up at Rex, somewhat apologetically but still amused before she tested holding a finger of her other hand up to offer rubs for the little bird.
Lucky seemed unphased by the movement. More content to chirp warmly as he plucked the seed from her hand. Rex, on the other hand, watched Penelope as she moved back to her seat. It wasn’t the sort of look that a father might give someone holding their child. More like he was nervous about holding up his end of the bargain that Lucky wasn’t a biter.
“Abby, that’s right.” They’d exchanged names, but Rex had to admit that calling her Cal Junior was more amusing to him than stating her real name. “She’s the sort that doesn’t mind a bit of picking. If anything, she’s better about giving it back than I ever could. If she heard what I said, she’d be like ‘the First Mate’s dressed like a peacock they set on fire because he wouldn’t stop yappin’, and still didn’t stop afterwards,’ or ‘he sure does talk like someone rammed a stick of soap up his arse so far that his words come out like shit bubbles.’” He shrugged. “Part of the job of the First Mate is being able to read people. And, Penelope, you standing up for her just proves you are like a bird. Never poke one when they’re in their tight and comfy place. They just bite back.”
Despite Rex’s warning, Lucky allowed Penelope to pet him. Maybe it was a bit self serving, or maybe she had smaller fingers than Rex, and it was far less smothering.
"One bird to another, then, Peacock," Her hazel eyes flickered upwards briefly, delighted smile still fixed in place as Lucky bobbed against the single finger atop his head. "I'd say it's all about the intent."
When she felt the incredibly fragile little skull stop its pressure against her finger, Penelope lifted it away. She grinned as Lucky went for the last seed in her palm. "And just how proud the other is. For a peacock, I'd wager you know that already, or ya wouldn't be as observant for all your bright plumage and all."
Knowing what it was like to steady against movement, Penelope lifted Lucky in a manner so he wouldn't go off kilter as she offered him back up to his dad with her final amicable words.
Lucky seemed content, fluffing up before settling down in a position that harbored back to a hen gone to roost. Yet, when Penelope lifted him, he seemed to almost sigh before fluttering off her digits and onto Rex’s shoulder. Unfortunately, he wasn’t dressed with anything sporting an elaborate collar. So, he just slid down the length of the neck hole and then inverted himself into the shirt. Rex seemed almost a bit flabbergasted before straightening up.
“When you're as bright colored as I am, you try not to be shot at. And because my aim is shit, I try to use words as my weapon. Anyway, pleasure to meet you and all. Have fun nesting. I’m sure Lucky will be back. It is warm up here, despite all the black.:”
Rex gave a stilted bow, unsure what to do with his current passenger before leaving. He paused by the door, though. “And I’d never make little Cal Junior clean up my latrine. I tend to my own messes.” He tapped the metallic frame before disappearing, a soft whistle following him.
