Desmond Miles £ 002
Who: failssassin and somarium !!!
Where: The Fire in the Hole club in Somni
Style: Starts in third, but either is fine with me
Status: OPEN!!! Come drink your sorrows away!!
Warning: Desmond has a foul mouth, so language.
'Thump thump thump thump'
( I gotta feeling that tonight's gonna be a good night )
Where: The Fire in the Hole club in Somni
Style: Starts in third, but either is fine with me
Status: OPEN!!! Come drink your sorrows away!!
Warning: Desmond has a foul mouth, so language.
'Thump thump thump thump'
( I gotta feeling that tonight's gonna be a good night )
Much better looking? Sure, as long as you're into long greasy hair, round squirrel-y cheeks and STDs.
Desmond raised an eyebrow at the woman, the loud music drowning his snort, but he tilted his head, lips smirking:
"That easy to tell, huh?"
Seeing as the bar was slow for the moment, the Assassin in training grabbed a small glass than Kara's and poured himself a beer, leaning against the counter, his back to the club, choosing to keep Kara some company. If she had been here for longer than him, she might be able to tell a few more things other that this world sucking. He had already figured out that part, and the rest of the information he had been given had not been much either. His ancestors had been obviously too busy voicing out their disappointment to actually be useful to him regarding the workings of this world.
The bartender gave the woman a short curt nod: "Desmond." While the owner of the place knew him under another name, Desmond had learn first handed that the outsiders might not be that easy to fool. Or perhaps the locals didn't really care if the outsiders were lying or not. Beside, his real name was on the contact list and if someone really wanted to find him, he supposed it wouldn't take long before they did. Which sucked to no end, in his opinion.
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Oh you don't know what Kara's into. Hint: it's not you. Just kidding.
"Lucky guess; I know a lot of the bars in the city," or they knew her at least, "and I didn't know your face. Besides, every month for a few weeks a whole raft of newcomers show up, most of them squawking and bitching." She took another drink and pulled a cigar from her pocket, lighting it up and blowing the smoke the opposite direction from Desmond. "Anyway, my line of work, you can tell who's wet behind the ears, so to speak."
And she missed having a new batch of nuggets to torture. Locke was annoyingly good at ignoring her when she shouted and she doubted he'd take a damn word to heart and be on the verge of pissing himself if he got on her bad side. Malik had been as bad in that respect too.
"Where you from then Desmond?"
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"Yeah. It's hard to imagine that people would be happy to be forcefully taken from their home and thrown in a place that they can leave." And now he knew doubly how it felt. Still didn't change how much it sucked.
"What do you do?" Her comment made him curious enough to ask.
"America. Somewhere in the year 2012. What about you, Kara?"
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"Some of us are used to that before we ever gods damn show up here." At least here, it was easier to swallow, a whole world instead of a box of an apartment, no one trying to make her play house even if she was still missing her wings. Cid was slowly giving them back she supposed even if the things she'd been test flying were nothing compared to the Viper she was used to.
"Back where I'm from I was a Viper pilot in the Colonial Fleet. Top Gun status too. Just got made the CAG and Captain before I got sucked back." Or something like that. Keeping track of time in Somarium and time back on Galactica was difficult seeing as she never remembered Somarium when she went back and then when she returned she'd generally been busy dealing with the shit that had happened. "Here though I work for a guy named Cid Highwind, mechanic work, test flights and all that. Keeps me busy." There might have been an unspoken 'keeps me sane' tacked on there.
Another inhale and exhale and she smirked. No one had ever heard of where she came from before and this would probably be the same conversation she'd had before.
"I'm from Caprica, city called Delphi. Twelve Colonies of Kobol." And maybe, just maybe, she wondered if she should just start saying Galactica. That old tin can had been home for a good four years now and even before the Fall of the Colonies she'd been more comfortable in the air than on the ground.
[[ooc: BSG doesn't ever say what year it is ever so um yeah sorry D:]]]
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"Tell me about that" he said, knowing all too well what she meant. Just as for Kara, this world was slightly better for Desmond as well. No Templars on his tail trying to get him back to being a lab rat.
He raised his eyebrows in slight surprise as Kara mentioned being a pilot. While he had never heard of a plane called a 'viper', he assumed she had meant the Air Force of which ever world she was coming from. He was a little impressed, though it barely showed on his face. He gave the young woman a short nod with a knowing look. Some sense of normalcy through a job was what kept him sane too. Well, as long as he could stay sane, he supposed. Though he still hadn't had any hallucinations here, so it might be longer than expected.
Desmond shook his head before taking another sip of his beer: "Never heard of it." But the bartender didn't had any other questions. If Kara wanted to talk about it, she was welcome to, but he wouldn't pry otherwise.
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She raised an eyebrow at his remark, pausing before she exhaled to better catch the look on his face. Interesting, very interesting and maybe after another couple of drinks she'd ask what he meant by that. After all, dreams seemed to give away a hell of a lot here whether you wanted them to or not.
Oh Desmond you just dropped a little in her estimations with that eyebrow raise. What, a woman can't be a pilot or the best at it. She knocked back her drink and slid the empty glass to Desmond, motioning for a refill, quickly checking her Dreamberry to see if she was scheduled for the morning and nope, she could drink as much as she liked and sleep in late before getting up to make some more progress with the bike.
"Considering it's a planet innumerable miles from Earth and that most people barely have any sort of space travels, I'm not exactly surprised." But Desmond shouldn't take that to mean that she wasn't disappointed. It'd be nice to meet someone else who knew what it was like to live on a ship hanging in space, searching for a new home. Perhaps not the latter part but one other person who knew what her life had been like and could understand the itch to get back up there and travel at ridiculous speeds, jumping from system to system.
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His surprise and the fact that he was impressed had nothing to do with her gender, actually. He was the first one to give credits to anyone when they deserved it. He had been saved, twice now, from certain death by a female Assassin after all. Desmond had long learned that gender had nothing to do with skills. No, Kara simply didn't fit with how he'd imagine Air Force pilots. Though that image might have been a little crooked from the teachings of his parents.
He grabbed her glass and refilled it, giving her another surprised look:
"Shit, you meant 'Outer Space'?" How far into the future was she coming from? He pushed the glass back in front of her, a small frown at the mention of Earth.
"Is Earth all right?" Sorry, he had to ask. The fact that she knew the planet obviously meant that it still existed in her time, but in which state? Had they been able to stop the oncoming Armageddon? Or was it just a toasted ball of dirt now?
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Good times.
She took the refilled glass and nodded, taking a shorter sip before she started speaking, wondering how best to describe it.
"Yeah, I mean, seriously outer space. On the Colonies, there was a point called the Red Line, the edge of charted space for us. We jumped - traveled to you - way beyond that, looking for Earth."
She looked down at her glass then and flinched for a second when she thought she saw a blurry skull staring back instead of her own face but recovered herself quickly enough. What she was going to say next probably wasn't about to go down well.
"When we found Earth it was...it had been destroyed in nuclear explosions about two thousand years ago. The same way the Colonies had when we'd been forced to leave them." She bit her lip and shook her head because damn, it still hurt. She'd been meant to guide them to a new beginning and she hadn't. She'd taken them to a dead end and had snuffed out the last of their hope along with her own sense of purpose. But still she could remember what she'd seen when she'd been gone; blue oceans, green lands, white fluffy clouds. What the frak had that been?
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At the faintest trace of her flinching, Desmond almost regretted having asked about Earth. She didn't seem to have good memories of it, which made him worry briefly.
And then she simply voiced out his worst fear. The bartender looked down at his own glass, lips thinning out in anger, before draining it. So they failed. Even if the world hadn't die because of the sun, it still had vanished in smoke. What was the point of saving mankind if it's just going to stay stupid and waste the gift it was given?
"That really sucks" was all he could muster before filling his glass again. That deserved another drink. Though if Kara was here, that meant that there was still humans out there, right? Wasn't that something to rejoice?
"So we're a dying species in your own time?" Though it would probably have been better to change subject, he can't help but ask that question.
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She took a drink then, wondering just how much she should really say. It didn't seem possible, with all that she'd learned, that there was just one Earth out there. Maybe they'd rolled a hard six and been shafted, finding that place and then piling back into their ships to keep looking. And that Earth had been the Cylon world, their Thirteenth Tribe, so many miles away, still ending up stuck in the same damn cycle.
"Madame President Roslin tried to ban abortions and get us to have babies but people get sick, people die, we settle on a planet and get invaded and more people die. Last time I was home, survivor count was below forty thousand." And she had no idea if that included her at all. Did Roslin make allowances for pilots who came back from the dead without a clue as to what they were?
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"I'm really sorry to hear that." That was all he could say, really. There wasn't much one could say to another when they learned of their kind being on the brink of extinction.
Taking another sip of his beer, Desmond this time searched for a new subject to discuss. Though depressing subjects were good for business, since it made the customer drink more, he didn't want to hear more about humankind's failings. It made him drink and he really couldn't get drunk on his first week of work if he wanted to keep his job.
"That guy you work, Cid, he's building a spaceship?" Did this world had the technology for it?
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She just nodded too because what the hell else was there to say? They didn't exactly make cards for that sort of thing. Still, the change of subject was a welcome one and she smiled and nodded.
"I think so, I'm not involved in all his projects unless he asks but he's building these...hovering motorbike things. Skyrunners," which still made her snort because Cid had to have been drunk when he made that name, "Not as fast as a Viper but it's still a rush."
And then of course there was her pet personal project safely stashed in her apartment to prevent any thievery or tampering. Her motorbike was going to be a beast when she got done with it.
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