01 [Holo] Same Dren, Different Day.
Crichton's reaction to suddenly finding himself in Taxon's arrival room instead of on the dying Leviathan, Elack, isn't exactly the norm. He knows where he is. Right here on this damned Leviathan and no fuel for his module still. This is just another damned flash thingy, it's all in his head. Scorpius hanging onto his neural network by his fingernails. Well not for much longer.
"No, no, no, no, no. Come out, come out, wherever you are," he even delivers it in a sing song voice. "See, you're gone Scorpy. History. Ding ding ding! And the heavyweight champion of the Galaxy iiiiis John Crichton. I knocked you out pal. Pluuus..." Geez this guy's a fruitcake, "you're frelling dead now! I've already paid the deposit at the florists. Hell if I'm losing that."
When Scorpius doesn't appear though, he stops. John takes in the room cautiously, pulse pistol at the ready and the manic madness he displayed only moments ago dissipating in an instant. This really isn't Scorpius' style, plus he's never seen this room before, so it's not in his mind.
"Okay, so maybe I'm wrong. I'm not often, but I'm willing to consider the possibility. Hello?" He picks up the communicator tablet curiously, "anyone out there wanna fill me in on what the hell just happened? Cos, you know, I've kinda had my fill of being the most wanted fugitive in the whole damned frelling universe. The novelty wears off after you stop imagining yourself as Harrison Ford."
It should also be noted that he's wearing rags - literally what looks like a sack that's had a neckhole cut into it and sporting a spectacularly hirsute visage.
"No, no, no, no, no. Come out, come out, wherever you are," he even delivers it in a sing song voice. "See, you're gone Scorpy. History. Ding ding ding! And the heavyweight champion of the Galaxy iiiiis John Crichton. I knocked you out pal. Pluuus..." Geez this guy's a fruitcake, "you're frelling dead now! I've already paid the deposit at the florists. Hell if I'm losing that."
When Scorpius doesn't appear though, he stops. John takes in the room cautiously, pulse pistol at the ready and the manic madness he displayed only moments ago dissipating in an instant. This really isn't Scorpius' style, plus he's never seen this room before, so it's not in his mind.
"Okay, so maybe I'm wrong. I'm not often, but I'm willing to consider the possibility. Hello?" He picks up the communicator tablet curiously, "anyone out there wanna fill me in on what the hell just happened? Cos, you know, I've kinda had my fill of being the most wanted fugitive in the whole damned frelling universe. The novelty wears off after you stop imagining yourself as Harrison Ford."
It should also be noted that he's wearing rags - literally what looks like a sack that's had a neckhole cut into it and sporting a spectacularly hirsute visage.