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Post by Grace Forjacks on Dec 9, 2009 23:46:51 GMT -6
Szar had a lot of opinions on things, and he didn't seem to be particularly shy about sharing them. While the content of his opinions could possibly be trouble, knowing what they were was better than having him silently brood on them. Men like that tended to explode at the worst possible times over things you never saw coming.
"Is there any other kind of man?" She pointed out. Of course, there were men who followed you out of loyalty, but that was something earned. You couldn't buy loyalty, and Grace didn't bother trying. She paid well, and treated her men right, and while she hoped that would mean something, she never let herself be blind to the fact that every last man on this boat would save themselves instead of her when it got down to the wire. Well. Every man except Klove, and that was because he looked at her like she was his mother. The dark truth was that Grace wasn't entirely sure she'd do the same for him.
Quillan brought over the food as he finished up and Grace helped herself. The chef was a jittery little thing, but he knew how to make damn good eggs. She ate quickly, not wanting to waste any time. When she finished, she'd do a quick headcount, make sure there wasn't anybody left, and then she'd get the hell off the Underworld. Every minute they were here was a minute they were moving further away from their destination.
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Post by Klove Makem on Dec 9, 2009 23:54:09 GMT -6
Szarados. That was kind of a mouthful. Sounded like he was probably from one of the more northern areas on Nox. Klove hadn't been there, but he'd seen some pictures. He and Grace usually stuck to the spaceport and the area near it, or out where the volcanos and vampires were.
It was funny, but Klove had a feeling it was going to be harder to carry on a conversation with Szarados, who was from the same planet as him, than with Castle, who hated Weres. But Castle's hate of weres didn't extend to Klove, and that was an emotional thing. Instincts were an infinitely more complex and messy thing, and as good as Klove was at repressing and controlling them, he could still feel the hairs on the back of his neck trying to stand up.
He tried something light, just to break the silence. "Ever been to Romulus?"
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Post by szarados on Dec 13, 2009 22:14:23 GMT -6
Szar started in on his plate of food forcefully, downing what passed for eggs and sausage in a way that wouldn’t be called polite in the most ornery of company. The display said that, if he fought as hard as he ate, that he was a dangerous man. He finished his food about the same time that Grace did, and immediately went for seconds. As for what she had asked of him, her question about the nature of men? He would merely meet that with a wary eye and a sidelong grin.
Klove was what he was focused on - other than getting fed, that is. Quillan may as well not have been in the kitchen for all the attention that was paid to him. The were-cat was young, but he still had to size him up. The measure of the first-mate would serve as a fair estimate on the meat of the crew.
"Ever been to Romulus?"
He hardly looked up from his food as Klove spoke. It wouldn’t be until Grace was gone, out of earshot, that he would respond. “Ain’t no need to play nice now that yer momma’s gone,” he grunted between bites. He didn’t dislike the kid any more than he did most strangers of his kind; but he just had to stir the shit. How easy the cat would get his hackles up would tell him a lot.
Slowly, meaningfully, he would look back over his shoulder in the direction that the captain had went before he looked back and added, “Dayum! Didn’t know they made leashes that long.”
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Post by Klove Makem on Dec 13, 2009 23:25:07 GMT -6
Klove glanced up from his plate. So Szarados was one of those guys. Not enough to feel everybody out the first day, he was already out the gate with a needling remark. He wasn't the first, and hell, Klove was everybody's favourite target. For years, he'd been the littlest one on the ship, and anytime Grace left the room, they went for his throat.
At first Klove had fought back, and gotten himself a bloody mess (and the idiot who started the fight had ended up stranded on the nearest planet without or without pay depending on how badly Klove had clawed him up). But then he'd learned another tactic, one that meant they kept the help and one that drove the most aggressive assholes up the wall as they failed to get the reaction they wanted.
"Grace gets them custom made. She likes being on top... of things." Klove carved up another slice of ham and popped it into his mouth to keep from smiling. He could hear the faint stomp of her boots as she headed up, and a moment after, the ramp coming up and into place.
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Post by szarados on Dec 17, 2009 23:16:45 GMT -6
Szar caught Klove’s look, and matched it with a hard glare of his own. He had known those men as well: the cocky braggarts and the glass-jawed bravoes. Most of them were human. Their kind, were-creatures, know better than to bite off more than they can chew, for the most part. The kitten would do well to remember that; to not mistake his prodding for unchecked egoism.
"Grace gets them custom made. She likes being on top... of things."
His face betrayed nothing, not so much as a flash of anger or frustration. Rather, he continued to wear that mask of a smile that he had put on in response to his last barbed statement. Good, he thought to himself, kid ain’t been so coddled as to forget where he’s from and what ’e is. Nox was tough terrain. It took more than flying off the handle to stay alive. A body has to keep their head to stay alive, and that’d be a good quality in anyone who supposedly had any sort of power aboard this boat.
Not that he had much intention of doing what a kid told ’im to.
He kept one hand on his fork as if he were afraid it’d be lost if he put it down, but he raised the other to his temple and tapped it twice. “I’ll be sure t’keep that in mind fer later.” He wasn’t sure what Klove’s relationship to the captain was, but they appeared at a glance to be close. Hell, he was the first-mate on this bucket. Maybe that insinuation on his part would get a reaction if nothing else would. And, if that failed, he’d just go back to eating. No skin off his knuckles.
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Post by Klove Makem on Dec 17, 2009 23:37:38 GMT -6
Klove had gotten very good at repressing his irritation at men telling him that they were going to sleep with the woman who had all but legally adopted Klove. That irritation had grown stronger once puberty really kicked in and those emotions had gotten more... muddled. He didn't really like to think about it. But either way, there was a long, long history of men saying shit about Grace, and most of it had been worse than this.
He just shrugged, a friendly 'we'll see about that'. Grace's choice in men was her own business, and attempting to tell her what she could and couldn't do was-... well, it was just a really awful choice. Anyway, Klove found that he didn't really care as much, not after Cass. There was just something about her that... that really got to him. A small smile slipped across his face as he thought about her, and that odd wonderful mechanical smell she had.
Klove blinked it off and went back to eating food. If they were doing diamond delivery, he was going to have to replace all the locks on the diamond boxes. Otherwise people started noticing that maybe they were stolen property, and maybe they didn't have to pay you for them since you hadn't paid for them either. Fresh locks seemed to fix that doubt, at least until they were paid and far away.
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