013 TEXT LIST TWO/SPAM

[deadliestviper]

Backdated to three days after the Overlook port.

[Locked to Friends (if she's ever told you anything personal, you're on here)]

That port was fucked up for everyone and it hit all of us hard. After going through that I know most of you aren't feeling up to par yet, but when I get anxious, I get antsy. I've laid low to lick my wounds long enough. For the next few hours I'll be playing pool and pretending everything's normal if you've got the energy or inclination to join me.

[Spam, Level 6]

[Rack the balls in the pyramid, set the cue-ball, chalk the cue evenly, line up the shot, break it; Beatrix repeats the pattern over and over again, sinking balls into the table's pockets before starting anew. It's not for practice or any particular love of the game, it's not even for fun. It's just that playing strikes that perfect balance of skilled focus and monotony that allows her to zone out, and the last thing she wanted to do right now was let her mind wander. It was already hard enough to push the images of Sarah and that thing in room 217's bathroom from the forefront of her mind – what she needed, wanted, was someone to talk to, distract her.

But no matter how deeply you repress it, you can't squelch a thought. So by all means, join her, but take care if you point out that she's humming "Love Me Tender."]

Comments

[theonlyresponse]

[Bruce is wandering the ship as usual. On the sixth floor he stops and notices Beatrix. Normally he would either have ignored her totally or just watched for a while and then left, but Selina's vouched for her, which means she's in all likelihood an ally, something he has few of on the Barge so far. He knows the look on her face too, it's one he's used to seeing on his own.

He walks over to the table.] Mind if I join you?

[deadliestviper]

[She's so engrossed in calculating an angle that she barely glances up when he enters, but nods and tilts her head to indicate the rack.] Grab a cue. [With that she makes her move, and the cue ball spins before knocking a single ball askew.] As you can see, the only reason I'm winning is that I'm playing against myself.

[theonlyresponse]

[Out of habit he holds his cue like he would a weapon but he quickly adjusts before he reaches the table. Since she hasn't managed to hit a ball into a pocket, he takes the next shot, and breaks. Not a single ball reaches a pocket, because he's not here to win, he just wants to talk to her.] Fan of Elvis?

[deadliestviper]

[She notices. Everyone's a little on edge after that port; her grip on her cue slacks, ready to spin it in her hands to defend if necessary, but the blow never comes. He just takes a far better shot than she did.] As much as anyone, I guess. Why?

[theonlyresponse]

[He shrugs and stands a little back to watch her take her shot.] I expected a jukebox.

[deadliestviper]

Check the pub for that. [Like a true beginner, she considers the table for a few moments before going to take the easiest shot, a simple tap sufficing to sink the ball.] I'm not much use in the music department.

[theonlyresponse]

I don't drink. [Beat.] I wouldn't be surprised if the Admiral came up with karaoke night in an attempt to rehabilitate us.

[an_abomination]

I'm on my way, do you want me to bring anything with me?

[deadliestviper]

Coffee, and maybe something sugary and artery-clogging?

[an_abomination]

Are you a fan of waffles? I can make some fancy, gourmet waffles. Darn good coffee too, if I do say so myself.

[deadliestviper]

Waffles sound great. Are you sure you don't mind?

[an_abomination]

Not at all. I make coffee for Steph every morning and occasionally waffles.

[deadliestviper]

Then it sounds good to me.

[spam]

[alwayshasaplan]

[Seth has cleaned himself up, because he was upsetting people when he wasn't clean. Shower, shave, fresh clothes, and only a little bit of hangover showing around his eyes. He's still boiling inside, but he's hoping if he ignores it long enough it will go away.]

[He walks in with a cold pair of his Mexican Cokes and a small tight smile for company. He's had a shit time of it but he still remembers the people on board that he gives a real shit about.]

Hey. You down for another game?

[spam]

[deadliestviper]

[It would probably be tough to offend the girl who waltzed in the Barge disguised as a human mud pie but B appreciates Seth's clean-up effort anyway. She looks up when she hears his foosteps approaching, and gives him a smile that's a little too broad and bright for people who just went through a mindfuck of a haunting.

If you're going to tell a lie, commit to it.]

Hey. Be my guest, but no gloating when you kick my ass.

[spam]

[alwayshasaplan]

Eeeh, I'm not that good. [He hands her a Coke and goes to chalk up a cue.]

Kinda fell outta practice, only getting back into it. Lost my pool partner recently, though.

[He wants to ask if she's okay but the place is semipublic. But he lets his concern show plainly in his dark eyes as he meets her gaze.]

[His words, though, are more neutral.] Things have gotten weird. You need anything, I'm around.

[spam]

[deadliestviper]

Probably still better than I am. [She accepts the Coke with a smile and nurses it, sipping as she perches on the table's side.]

Yeah? What happened there? [Her tone is light enough, but when she looks up to meet his gaze her eyes are as leaden as his. She nods, once, that little upward "I'm cool" head-jerk, but doesn't break eye contact.] Yeah. Same for you.

[spam]

[alwayshasaplan]

Guess we'll see. [He limbers up and grabs the ball rack, then walks over and starts setting up.]

[He looks up at her question.] Lot of people died including Richie, and the guy who did it's his damn Warden. So...I've spent several days now restraining myself from breaking my fist on his face.

Other than that I'll live. You?

[spam]

[deadliestviper]

If I were you I wouldn't have bothered with the restraint. [Is that admiration in her voice? It might be, if you squint.]

Not dead yet. Or any deader than I was when I got here. How's Richie holding up?

[ Spam ] so, so late, I'm sorry /o\

[warisart]

[Ben receives the text, of course, but he simultaneously assumes it was an accidental inclusion - because he's still petulantly angry about things he can't even begin to sort out - and doesn't like talking where it can be record anyway.

Nevertheless, the specified couple of hours have nearly passed before the X5 follows the sounds of a game he's observed but never played - he understands it's all geometry and precision and he guesses he'd be sufficient at it if he opted to try, but he prefers chess - to the room in question. He's silent in his approach, attempting to observe if anyone is currently keeping her company as requested before he'll come closer than lingering quietly in the hallway.

Not that there's really anywhere out here for him to hide once he's in sight of the doorway, of course.]

[ Spam ] write, or write not; there is no late

[deadliestviper]

[Silly Ben – Beatrix doesn't accidentally include people in her correspondence. She would have sent him a private message except there's a very high likelihood that he'd interpret it as a command rather than an invitation. Outside of a battle situation, that's the last thing she wants to do.

It's late when he shows up and she's getting bored and tuckered out, tired enough to not notice him right away as she idly spins the cue ball around as the game were table bowling instead of pool. A few seconds pass before she notices the feeling of being watched and looks up to lock eyes with him.]

Hi, Ben.

[ Spam ] my apology stands

[warisart]

[He waits her out, and when she does look up, his gaze is there to meet hers immediately. The ease and confidence he'd been operating under at the hotel is gone, leaving behind the constant wariness and the pronounced military bearing that had at least faded at the time.]

Ma'am. [He moves into the room, glancing around just to be sure even though he's been in here dozens of times before, he knows there aren't any exits or windows or vents large enough to admit a person. He draws closer to the table, noting her lack of a pool cue.] I don't mean to interrupt.

[ Spam ] sit down, apology! put your feet up, stay for a while!

[deadliestviper]

[As unkind as it might sound, the change is comforting to her. Ben may not be as placid and serene as he was at the hotel, but in Beatrix's opinion that's a good thing – it's better to face your fear than hide from it in a delusion. Still, within this practical attitude there's sympathy. She knows what it's like to build up a comforting reality and have it suddenly torn down.

So they're back to the formal titles. She shakes her head.] I'm not your superior. [Keeping her body language nonthreatening, she leans back against the pool table, hands braced against the sides, and watches him, wondering what he's worried about escaping from.] You're not. I'm avoiding turning in for the night, so believe me, I'm glad you came by.

[ Spam ] oh it's going to

[warisart]

[Nothing good ever came of facing his fear, either; he's learned to brick it up behind his eyes and carry it with him, but she can't know that, of course. Mostly he's just angry. Angry because She lied to him, angry because he believed Her, angry because he's angry.

And still so goddamn afraid. She shakes her head, he glances down without acknowledging; titles, respect, they're safer. He doesn't know who to trust. Instead he studies the pattern of the billiard balls on the table, decides she's no longer actually playing.]

Why avoid it?

[ Spam ] i'll put on some tea

[deadliestviper]

[Nothing good came of it until you conquered it - but given that, if you asked, Beatrix would be hard-pressed to tell you exactly what Ben is afraid of, perhaps she shouldn't make any assumptions. Now she assumes, after all, that he feels safer back on board, like she does. That he's just relieved to be out of there, away from whatever was playing on their minds.

That he can trust her as easily as he did back there.]

No one has nightmares if they don't sleep. Besides, I feel as if I've spent long enough in bed.