On the Heart of Gold

[antarianmax]

The ship's been cleaned. Insanely. Every bit of it's shining brightly, even whiter than it normally is, and all is pristine and perfect for a trip that guarantees, considering time and the personages involved, that by the time they land, it'll be a mess

Comments

[forsaken_bard]

At Trillian's request, Asmodean has joined the mission.

He is standing to the side in his immaculate black suit. Not particularly imposing to the casual eye, but the bard moves with a deadly grace.

Without further ado, he proceeds to pull out the harp he has brought and play softly.

It is important to have one's priorities straight.

[antarianmax]

"Great, we get entertainment."

Max peeks over his shoulder at the harp.

"You're Trillian's friend, right?"

[forsaken_bard]

He nods calmly. His dark eyes watch Max carefully.

"I am her husband."

[antarianmax]

"Oh. Right."

Max pretends to understand.

Um, Trillian ...

"I should've remembered that. I thought I was paying more attention than I was, I guess."

[empath_wiggin]

And at some poit, there's a Val there. She's plunked on a seat in the bridge, typing away as if she belongs there.

[galactic_prez]

Zaphod, from his position on the couch, attempts to look over her shoulder.

It doesn't work well.

Instead, he settles for waving lazily. "Hey, there. Guess you're one of Trill's recruits, huh?"

[empath_wiggin]

He probably wouldn't understand it anyway. Exceptig the final draft, Val writes in Italian, in the Aurebesh alphabet. Val looks up and chuckles. "Michael's, actually." She looks up and holds out a hand. "Valentine Skywalker, propaganda and government planning."

[galactic_prez]

He vaults out of the couch, wobbling slightly, and extends one of three hands.

"Charmed," he says, grinning widely with both heads. "Zaphod Beeblebrox, owner and proprietor of the Heart of Gold and President of the Galaxy. Sometimes."

[balletrat]

*Eventually, there is a Meg, who peers around the ship with great interest.*

- I've never been on a spaceship before, *she announces to the room at large.* Are they always this shiny?

[empath_wiggin]

"No, mine was rather dull. And from what Luke says, most in his world are rather dull too." She smirks a bit. "Hey, Meg."

[balletrat]

Hey, Val, *Meg says cheerfully.* I'll have to take your word on that one - I don't think they've even invented a way to make things this shiny in my time yet.

[empath_wiggin]

Val laughs. "Well, it's a bit over-shiny for me, really. Everything reflects onto my screen, and I can't -see- anything. And there are too many people." Is that whining? Force, she's been around her husband too long. "That's not griping at you to go away, Meg. I probably shouldn't be this stuck in all of it."

[thedigitalpimp]

And there's Mouse, with a trunk o' guns and ammo. Same outfit, too, actually (minus the jacket, which is Shelley's now).

This is much cleaner than the Nebuchadnezzar. And less cold. Mouse approves.

[antarianmax]

"Welcome to our temporary not-so-humble abode," calls Max sociably from the couch.

[thedigitalpimp]

"Nice," Mouse says, nodding. He heads over towards the couch.

[balletrat]

*Meg waves to Mouse, from where she is now curled up comfortably on a couch.*

[thelastearthman]

And Arthur's there as well, looking an all-too-familiar shade of depressed.

He hates goodbyes. Even when they're temporary.

[mctrillian]

"You look awful. Tea?"

Trillian does try.

[thelastearthman]

"Only if you make it yourself."

He gives her a valiant attempt at a smile.

"I'll be alright once we get going."

[mctrillian]

"Oh, yeah, bloody hell, I have to remember never to offer you tea on the Heart of Gold ever again."

She laughs, tugging on his arm.

"No, I've got an old-fashioned hotplate in the kitchen. Zaphod nearly ate me."