Well, here's some trivia for you - spending a couple of months swapping between carbonite and the endless expanse of deep space, all from the comfort of your very small, veeeery isolated emergency shuttle, isn't exactly good for what ails you. I'm fine, just, uh. Needed some clean-up, mostly.
Dude, yeah. I feel you. I feel like I've smoked twice as much here than I ever did my whole life back home.
[ Maybe this won't be so bad after all. Kendall makes sure to grab the pack of cigarettes he'd most recently scrounged before he heads up to the deck. ]
[And when Kendall does get there, Eiffel's waiting on one of the deck chairs with his own cigarette in a bandaged hand and a somewhat old-school wireless headset around his neck, and he's dressed in the most generically 'thirty-year-old bachelor' outfit of jeans, oversized sneakers and a dumb t-shirt; the only other remarkable thing is that he's completely bald, including eyebrows, and that when he sees his inmate he lifts the other, also bandaged hand in a wave.]
Over here, Ray Breslin. Thanks for coming out tonight, I'm sure you had a very busy schedule.
[ Clothing-wise, Kendall's sticking to the earthy neutrals he'd gravitated towards at home – lots of brown and beige, basically, and none of it is particularly interesting. He kind of blends in, even if the area around him isn't the same colour. He digs a cigarette out of his pack as he's walking, cruising to a stop and appraising his new warden (jesus, it's fucking weird thinking that) closely. ]
Did you, like, burn those off, or...? [ He gestures to his own eyebrows with his free hand. Best to address it directly, he figures, rather than continue to sneak baffled glances. ]
Hey, don't diss boring. [He points the cigarette at Kendall in a playful threat.] Boring means no-one's trying to kill you, or explode into a thousand pieces, or launch you into the depths of space to die a cold, miserable, lonely death.
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[ A beat. ]
Well, I can't. But. [ Sigh. ] Where's the best place to meet?
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I dunno how many floors on this thing are anti-smoking, so. Meet me on deck, maybe? I could kill for some goddamn nicotine right now.
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[ Maybe this won't be so bad after all. Kendall makes sure to grab the pack of cigarettes he'd most recently scrounged before he heads up to the deck. ]
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Over here, Ray Breslin. Thanks for coming out tonight, I'm sure you had a very busy schedule.
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[ Clothing-wise, Kendall's sticking to the earthy neutrals he'd gravitated towards at home – lots of brown and beige, basically, and none of it is particularly interesting. He kind of blends in, even if the area around him isn't the same colour. He digs a cigarette out of his pack as he's walking, cruising to a stop and appraising his new warden (jesus, it's fucking weird thinking that) closely. ]
Did you, like, burn those off, or...? [ He gestures to his own eyebrows with his free hand. Best to address it directly, he figures, rather than continue to sneak baffled glances. ]
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If only. No, if I had burn marks from anything, it'd be trying to smoke one of these bad boys in a goddamn space ship.
[He takes a pointed drag of his cigarette before he continues.]
This is all from doing the full Walt Disney. Three months of on and off cryo-freeze - turns out it makes you go balder than a newborn. Who knew!
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[He blows out his cheeks in an exasperated exhale.]
It's a lot. I'm not some Professor X type leader guy, I'm just some asshole who watched waaaay too many movies as a kid.