Xenosaga.
In which Jr and Mary and Shelley have wacky fun mocking other people, and Rachel entertains herself expressing her opinions on the subject of chaos.
The transaction is a simple one; Matthews reports his junking progress, makes excuses for the amount of debt he's racked up, promises as usual that he'll get the money in by the end of the month. Halfway through he makes a brief mention of the new crew member they've picked up. They're letting him stay on because he's useful, he says, he won't be any trouble.
When the communication finally cuts off, Mary spends five seconds just staring at the air in front of them. "Oh. Mah. Lord." she says softly. "Did you *see* him?"
"I did," says Shelley, raising a wry eyebrow.
"Those *shorts*?"
"Mm-hm. That spandex?"
"Ah'd like a ride on *that* ship. ...Someone needs to give that boy some decent clothing."
"I don't know. Likely they appreciate the view."
"And ah always thought they were so *straight,* the lot of them..."
"Never trust three men alone on a ship with no nude pinups in the bunks."
"How do you know they don't have pinups in the bunks?"
"I have my sources. Little Master! Where have you been?"
Jr walks onto the bridge, a paper book tucked surreptitiously under his arm. "Ladies," he says cheerfully, with a wave. "You're looking lovely as always." They give him a suspicious look. He coughs. "I, uh, got distracted by a bidding war on the UMN. What's up?"
"Little Master," says Mary, working diligently to control her laughter, "we've just got a call in from Matthews. You have *got* to see this."
Shelley keys up a replay of the communication. "Meet the newest crew member of the Elsa," she says evenly, pausing the visual on a good shot of the yellow shorts.
At first, Jr looks as though he has seen a ghost. Then several expressions flash across his face; disbelief, anxiety, a sort of shocked amusement. He mutters something under his breath. "Little Master?" asks Shelley. "Are you alright?"
The moment passes.
"Oh, *man,*" says Jr seriously, with a perfectly straight face. "Matthews picked up a hooker."
The three of them dissolve into helpless laughter. The 100-Series look up from their posts, confused, before shrugging and turning back to their duties. "No, no, really," says Jr, making a valiant attempt to regain his composure, "you know what this means."
"STD jokes?" asks Mary hopefully.
Jr waves his hand dismissively. "There'll be plenty of time for that later," he replies, grabbing control of the console from Shelley and beginning to type. "For now... it's time to set up a betting pool."
***
Because, you know, Jr actually starts every betting pool on the Kukai Foundation. Including the one about what relation Gaignun actually has to Jr. The most popular bets are, of course, clone and illegitimate son, only two people have bet on secret lover, and one of them was Mary, and she was drunk.
Anyway, I love Jr, Mary and Shelley, and Gaignun, and I think they should have their own film noir detective show. Except it would actually be a gentle parody of film conventions of the '40s. Or maybe just a sitcom. I don't know. But they have a great dynamic.
The transaction is a simple one; Matthews reports his junking progress, makes excuses for the amount of debt he's racked up, promises as usual that he'll get the money in by the end of the month. Halfway through he makes a brief mention of the new crew member they've picked up. They're letting him stay on because he's useful, he says, he won't be any trouble.
When the communication finally cuts off, Mary spends five seconds just staring at the air in front of them. "Oh. Mah. Lord." she says softly. "Did you *see* him?"
"I did," says Shelley, raising a wry eyebrow.
"Those *shorts*?"
"Mm-hm. That spandex?"
"Ah'd like a ride on *that* ship. ...Someone needs to give that boy some decent clothing."
"I don't know. Likely they appreciate the view."
"And ah always thought they were so *straight,* the lot of them..."
"Never trust three men alone on a ship with no nude pinups in the bunks."
"How do you know they don't have pinups in the bunks?"
"I have my sources. Little Master! Where have you been?"
Jr walks onto the bridge, a paper book tucked surreptitiously under his arm. "Ladies," he says cheerfully, with a wave. "You're looking lovely as always." They give him a suspicious look. He coughs. "I, uh, got distracted by a bidding war on the UMN. What's up?"
"Little Master," says Mary, working diligently to control her laughter, "we've just got a call in from Matthews. You have *got* to see this."
Shelley keys up a replay of the communication. "Meet the newest crew member of the Elsa," she says evenly, pausing the visual on a good shot of the yellow shorts.
At first, Jr looks as though he has seen a ghost. Then several expressions flash across his face; disbelief, anxiety, a sort of shocked amusement. He mutters something under his breath. "Little Master?" asks Shelley. "Are you alright?"
The moment passes.
"Oh, *man,*" says Jr seriously, with a perfectly straight face. "Matthews picked up a hooker."
The three of them dissolve into helpless laughter. The 100-Series look up from their posts, confused, before shrugging and turning back to their duties. "No, no, really," says Jr, making a valiant attempt to regain his composure, "you know what this means."
"STD jokes?" asks Mary hopefully.
Jr waves his hand dismissively. "There'll be plenty of time for that later," he replies, grabbing control of the console from Shelley and beginning to type. "For now... it's time to set up a betting pool."
***
Because, you know, Jr actually starts every betting pool on the Kukai Foundation. Including the one about what relation Gaignun actually has to Jr. The most popular bets are, of course, clone and illegitimate son, only two people have bet on secret lover, and one of them was Mary, and she was drunk.
Anyway, I love Jr, Mary and Shelley, and Gaignun, and I think they should have their own film noir detective show. Except it would actually be a gentle parody of film conventions of the '40s. Or maybe just a sitcom. I don't know. But they have a great dynamic.