tucky | ♻ 021 | video/spam

[Tiffany - looking worn out, but generally fine - is curled up on her couch as she addresses the network today.]

Me and Lourdes were stuck in the Enclosure, and I guess it was for longer than it felt like it was, 'cause there's four days of rabbit shit all over my room and people are saying it's Saturday. But we're okay. It was-- we're okay. I couldn't've done it without her.

Hey. You guys seeing these ghosty things walking around? They barged right in and started grabbing at me when I tried to wish my room clean. Are they part of the flood? Or... or whatever this is.

[She rubs a hand over her face.]

You think they'd mind if we tried to steer the ship again? Let's try it out. Let's all imagine a port with a lot of bars, filled with guys that really wanna get laid. Don't say "that was Paris"; I was still getting laid in Paris.

[Pause.]

Nah, I'm just kidding; don't wish for a new port or nothing. It's a bad idea, trust me; those things are creepy. I'm too fucking tired to deal with 'em. And I'm worried about the rest of y'all, so check in. Especially if you're still missing - Letty was making broadcasts, so I know some of you can get on.

[filtered to Lourdes]

[Once they've been out for a little while, Tiffany shoots Lourdes a follow-up message.]

thanks again

you doing ok

[filtered to Pietro]

[After her conversation with Lourdes, Tiffany shoots off a quick private message.]

you still want your powers back if you could get em right?

[spam]

[After a long rest, Tiffany ventures out of her room and heads out to one of her favorite haunts - the deck. Or that's the plan, anyway. The second she steps onto it she feels the wrongness, the precariousness, the sense that the ship's gravity is going to fail at any moment. She lets out a yell of surprise and throws herself back onto the ship, slamming the door behind her.

It's going to be a long, long time before she feels comfortable enough to go back out there again.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

...I ain't that sweet. I wasn't - honest with you, really. My memory -

[He hesitates, for a moment. It's hard to know if he's going to make this worse for her, or just let her know she's not completely alone.]

It was boring. Just a day at work. Only it was...the difference was that one of the people was there who I made my deal for.

He...he's dead, at home.

Was it your fault?

[Her words are blunt, but her tone is gentle and nonjudgemental.]

[He shakes his head.]

...No.

[It took him a while to make his peace with that. He watched it happen and he couldn't do anything about it; that made it feel like his fault.]

Then I don't see how that makes you a bad person. And even if it was your fault, I bet I've done worse.

You wanna talk about it?

[Well, he never said he was a bad person. But he was reunited with the person he respected and trusted most in all the world, and shot him in the fucking head on the offchance that it'd get him and Jimmy out of some endless Groundhog Day bullshit. And it feels like it's eating him up from the inside out and no amount of 'didn't have a choice' rationalisation is helping.

In retrospect, it would have been a hundred times worse if it hadn't worked.]

Nah. It's done, innit. Just more Barge bollocks.

[This time she leans up to kiss his cheek.]

Yeah. Barge bollocks. It's done and it weren't even real in the first place.

[There's a pause while that's sinking in and then he lets out a small, quiet laugh at hearing that word in her accent.]

That's fucking adorable, Tiff. Say 'wanker'.

Wanker. Uh... mate. Cheers. Bugger.

[Someday maybe she'll even demonstrate her terrible British accent for you, Eggsy.]

[He will enjoy that. Then give her tips.]

Spot on, luv, you sound like a proper native.

Native, huh?

[Well, now she has to try out the accent. It's predictably awful.]

Well, thank you very much, because native's exactly what I am.

[Unsurprisingly, he bursts out laughing.]

Oh my God, Tiff. That's fuckin' terrible.

Like you could do an American one.

[That was a dare, Eggsy.]

[Definitely a dare. He thinks back to hours with Kingsman's dialect coach. His Midwest is passable, his New York is decent but occasionally goes sliding across the Atlantic. He clears his throat and deliberately mangles a generic East Coast.]

I don't know. Can't really hear how you sound from in your own head, do you? This is probably shit.

It's real shit. It's... it's.

What's a British word for terrible?

We pretty much did 'em. Bollocks. Wank. But if summat's shit I'm just gonna say it's shit, you get me?

Okay. Your accent is some bollocks wank shit, Eggsy.

[But she grins, and curls closer against his side.]

I know we said we were gonna do something, but... can I stay here for a little bit? Like, right here.

Yeah. Yeah, 'course.

[Platonic cuddling sounds pretty much okay to him, frankly.]

Could watch a film? Then it's like doing somethin'.

I got a couch and a TV up there.

[She points to the loft.]

Sounds good.

[He slides away but only for ease of movement.]

Hope you got some DVDs too, because they ain't exactly pickin' up satellite over here.

Yeah, I got some. I take 'em from the library sometimes.

[She even usually remembers to give them back eventually!]

What kind of movies do you like?

Musicals.

[He pauses briefly and clicks his tongue, lightly surprised that he's feeling comfortable enough to tell the actual truth and not the much safer second or third choices he goes with for his mates.]

That ain't, like, gay code or anything. [Okay, still mildly defensive.] My mum used to watch 'em a lot when I was little.

[She can't help but be a little surprised, but she rolls with it.]

I don't got any of those. But if you wanna get one from the library, I can set up the DVD player.

Edited 2015-06-26 18:35 (UTC)

...Alright, sounds good.

[He'll go and scrounge up some crisps or sweets or something while he's at it.]

♻ 021 | video/spam

Spam

Spam

Spam

Spam

Spam

Spam

Spam

Spam

Spam

Spam

Spam

Spam

Spam

Spam

Spam

Spam

Spam

Spam

Spam

Spam

Spam

Spam

Spam