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[timesbureaucrat]

[Narvin is more irritable than usual. His arms are crossed, lips thin, and the hiss in his high-pitched voice is slightly more pronounced. But he's not ranting (yet).]

Whoever is using the fifth floor common room as your personal deposit bank, you have one hour to remove your things before I'm confiscating it and throwing it overboard.

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[thinkb4ublink]

[Slater, having heard his message, is quick to spot Narvin as he enters his floor's common room. It's hard not to be on the ball when ruddy mistletoe is on the loose. Keeping his distance, he eyeballs him.] So… what? You're gonna lurk here and collar 'em fer litterin' now? Or you lookin' to give whoever a snog? [Either way, you're a freak, Narvin.]

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[timesbureaucrat]

[Narvin rolls his eyes.]

I'm making sure a brawl doesn't break out in case four people decide that the items in question are--or should be--theirs. [And spying to see who's interested, since that alone will tell him a little about a person, extra information to be filed away. But he's not going to say that.]

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[thinkb4ublink]

[Nope, still a freak.] The stuff's all over the place, mate, and, more than that, actually bloody useless and if the individual who actually owned the stuff gave a monkey's he wouldn't be putting' it where any Tom, Dick or Harry could walk on by and nab it, would he? And so what if they fight? Anybody thick enough that the money's actually going get them somewhere deserves a fist to the 'ead. [He points at him.] You'd be a lot 'elfier if you kept your nose out, before someone tries and knocks it in! [He seriously does not get putting himself out for others. Policeman of the Barge!]

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[timesbureaucrat]

I have a duty here to maintain security, no matter what foolery you primitives are up to.

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[thinkb4ublink]

Actually, you dipstick, your 'duty' is to look after that spiky haired wally with the boots. What you're doin' 'ere? Is stickin' your nose in.

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[timesbureaucrat]

[His eyes narrow.]

I'm sure you might incapable of carrying out more than one long-term task at once, but I am not.

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[thinkb4ublink]

Yeah, listenin' not much of skill wit you, is it? Lemme put it in terms even you can get. I've needed to step into the infirmary once for that initial scanner fing. An' I've bin here over a year. How many times have you been in there? [Shrugs.] Say what you want about evolution, mate, but the name of the game is survivin' and I'm thinking out of you an' me? I'll be callin' myself the higher life form thanks.

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[timesbureaucrat]

[Narvin, still seated in a chair, casually draws his staser and aims it at Slater.]

We can even the score right now if you like.

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[thinkb4ublink]

[Slater does indeed take it seriously, even as he continues. It's not the first time a weapon's been pointed at him and he reminds himself that it's a laser gun of all things.] Hit a nerve did I? Kiss it better?

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[timesbureaucrat]

[Narvin stands and takes a few steps closer to Slater and tilts his head in false curiosity.]

For someone who professes to care about survival, you have an interesting way of addressing those who are stronger and better armed than you are.

[He desperately wants to show the disrespectful alien that he shouldn't be crossed. But he's practical enough that he doesn't want to do anything that would land him in Zero. He considers his options.]

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[thinkb4ublink]

[Slater immediately steps back, keeping his set distance.] Fer one, killin' me over a bit o' friendly advice is dumb. Fer two, get much closer, an' one of those mistletoe fings will get me and 'm not ruining that streak with you neither. [Ugh!]

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[timesbureaucrat]

Perhaps. [With a small flick of his thumb, Narvin changes the setting. He suppresses the thread of disappointment that runs through his mind as he does so.] But I don't need to get closer, and it would be ever so satisfying.

[And he fires. On stun.]