MISSION LOG

[comeback]

Title: How to kill three of your crew members simultaneously OR In which star, strawberry, and stray clean the septic tank
Characters: strawberry, stray, star
Location: Future 7
Timeframe: before 5pm on the day it's supposed to be done....
Status: Open
Warnings: cursing, cursing, cursing...........death threats probably...........yeah, death threats...

Comments

[spaceberry]

Ichigo strode over to the septic tank, feeling decidedly queasy. He already wasn't thrilled to be cleaning the damn thing in the first place -- to bad he couldn't hit his superiors without getting fired -- but to top it all off, he was hungover. He'd spent the entire morning lying in bed, squeezing his eyes shut in the vain hope that the dizzy pain would go away. He'd had hangovers before, sure, but this time he and Ishida really outdid themselves.

Really. He groaned and leaned against the bulkhead, pointedly ignoring Rukia -- hopefully if he ignored her existence, she would go away. Highly unlikely, but worth a shot. Wait. Wait. She would hit him or something. And he really wasn't in a position to be hit. Really.

"Oi." He blinked blearily at her, crossing his arms and tilting his head back against the wall. He was pretty sure he would be sick, but he was here. Reluctantly.

Now they just needed Renji to complete their little party in the septic tank.

This was going to suck.

[comeback]

"Oi yourself," she said, mildly amused, in reply to Ichigo's obviously forced hello. Good for him, she thought. Maybe basic manners were in his grasp after all. His bad boy attitude was fine for the most part, not that she gave a damn. But sometimes it got in the way of actually having a functional crew. She was about to suggest they just get to it when Renji came into sight. He looked...especially sour today

[spaceberry]

Ichigo was really not in the mood for this. Really not in the mood. His head was swimming, and even the thought of wading through shit made him repress the urge to vomit. He'd rolled out of bed in his most tatterdemalion clothes, fully expecting never being able to get the smell out of them ever again. He kind of liked the shirt -- BYE BYE DEAD BIRDIE -- but at the moment, he didn't have much of a choice in the matter. It had to be sacrificed.

So he was a little surprised to find Rukia leading the two of them down the hallway, promising protective suits. They had suits for this shit? Well. Fuck. That would've been nice to know before.

He followed her quietly, his boots pounding against the floor in the same way his brain was pounding against his skull. A witty retort was out of the question. Walking straight was hard enough. For a moment, Ichigo actually contemplated taking Inoue up on her offer of a hangover remedy. Then he nearly did gag.

Shit, this was bad. Really bad.