station72 | (no subject)

CHARACTERS: Sam and you
WHERE: The Bearings
WHEN: day 46
SUMMARY: After the b&e on Public Security, Sam's distraction efforts have been noticed...by the extranet.
WARNINGS: Memeloving shitposts.

[ So. It's...definitely not bright and early the day after the break-in, because some hosts were up way past their bedtimes. (Some hosts will deny up and down that bedtimes are a thing they should ever have to consider, because oh my God what do you think he is, six years old or something.)

But he's slept in, he's finally stumbled into the shower, and Sam has parked himself in the common room with the news on, a few extranet feeds up in front of him, and a bowl of something vaguely like Cinnamon Toast Crunch drowning in something vaguely like chocolate milk, because researching what everyone knows and what everyone thinks about their highly illegal activities is an important activity and working out that scroll button works up an appetite.

And then he stops in the middle of a bite, spoon still in his mouth and one eyebrow shooting up, as he takes a look at what's actually going on in one of those windows.

It's some badly captured footage of his light show from last night - a bright blue blur doing a few loops and barrel rolls, and some text in a loud, annoying font slapped on the bottom: YOU CAN'T EXPLAIN THIS. Another one, this one just a still cap of the same: I DON'T KNOW, THEREFORE ALIENS. A few others, with text with varying degrees of ironically poor grammar... ]

-hmgd.

[ Right. That spoon was still in his mouth. He takes it out, swallows his mouth full of cereal, and tries that again: ]

Oh my God. I'm a meme.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Yeah, well, this is kind of a crappy place to practice.

[ Especially now that he has used that trick, he doesn't want to break it out again unless the shit truly hits the fan. If people are looking for it again, that could be trouble, but if he doesn't use it, they've got nothing to look into.

Being indefinitely grounded is the absolute worst, and it's no small part of the frustration that he radiates pretty much as a rule of thumb. ]

I can't wait to get off this rock.

[ Parker gives him a look over her book, feet crossed on a nearby chair as she reaches for the coffee mug. ]

And that's a crappy excuse.

[ Turning his words on him, sort of. Parker lets it die, though, setting the mug back on the table and flipping the page. It is somewhat comforting to find a book in the middle of all the technology. Some sense of familiarity. Kind of.

This time, she doesn't look away from the words across the paper-like material of the book. ]

To do what?

[ He shrugs. ]

Stop having to lie about what I'm doing here every time I go outside. Take a flight without having to make it into some kind of intelligence operation.

[ Being stuck on the ground is the most obvious way Concordia chafes him, but if he's honest with himself, it's about being stuck in a lot more ways than not being able to take off to orbit when he feels like it. ]

[ If this had been a few years ago, that would have damaged irreversibly the already awful relationship she has with him - which is barely there at all, like every other person, but worse, because there is that awful feeling that doesn't even belong to her tugging them together against her will. But as it is, it only gets a mild grimace that could be anything.

Instead, she just says in obvious disdain ]

Poor you.

Hey, you asked.

[ He doesn't expect most people to get the flying thing. He wouldn't have really gotten it, a couple of years prior. But it's gotten to be the thing that keeps him together when everything else is going to shit - being able to take off for an hour, sit on the moon, and find his chill where nobody can screw it up halfway.

Being without it now makes him wonder how the hell his father ever gave it up to stay earthbound. ]