trans_9 | Sleeping [OPEN]

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Sleeping [OPEN]

If anyone's passing through the Obs Deck, they might notice a man stretched out on one of the flesh couches with a rifle across his lap. He's fast asleep and seems perfectly relaxed, considering that this isn't where he should be sleeping and is a psychotic meat ship besides.

But that's not stopping Grif.

He's had a long, stressful day full of strangers and bad food. And he intends to seep as much of it off as he can.

It might be interesting to wake him up.

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Chris much like Grif, was tired with a touch of boredom. As he was still getting used to the ship and the different levels, he was surprised to see anyone on the Obs Deck. He spied an older man stretched out on a couch (or what passed for a couch) on the Deck.

"Are you okay?" If Chris was thinking, he probably wouldn't have bothered someone with a rifle on his lap.

The man's brow furrows, he shifts a little, then cracks one eye open.

"I'm on a #$%@ing space ship with crappy food that's probably going to try to kill me later," he says, voice dripping sarcasm. "I'm doing great."

As soon as Grif finished speaking, there was something about him that reminded Chris about Len. Maybe a little more vulgar than him but that'S what Chris felt.

Chris responded with a shrug. "Things could be far worse. There could be face-hugging aliens that want to kill everyone. Or something like that." Chris turned to face him.

"I'm Chris, Chris Ramirez." He offered his hand.

"Seriously dude, don't start talking about aliens. I knew a guy that had an alien baby once, it was weird as hell and I still see it in my sleep," Grif replies, wincing.

He opens his other eye and sits up, stretching a little as he does, and accepts the handshake.

"Grif. Dexter Grif."

Chris raised an eyebrow at that remark but decided not t,o comment on that. "Nice to meet you, Grif. Have you been here long on the ship? As far as I can tell, you're the second human I've seen on this ship in the four days or so I've been here."

"I've been awake about four days too, probably as long as you. Seen some humans, and this really mean AI that I knew before." He winces a little, remembering running into Tex.

"Bad luck, dude. What have you been running into?"

He had to agree with Grif, this was some odd place.

"A talking raptor, for one. You know like the kind from movies like Jurassic Park? That was weird."

"It talked? What did it say?" he asks.

And he knows exactly what Chris is talking about. Grif always liked Jurassic Park.

Well, that was an odd sight to see.

"Not exactly the best place to sleep."

Is somebody... talking to him? Grif debates on whether or not to respond.

He opens one eye. Oh hellooooo there.

"I sleep where I wanna," he says, sitting up but still slouching casually into the furniture.

That's all well and good, but... "Not exactly the smartest idea to leave firearms across your lap."

"What else am I supposed to do with it? What if I need it?" says Grif reasonably.

"Why would you need it?"

Grif siiiiighs. "I'm on an alien space ship. Why wouldn't I need it? And it's not like you're running around unarmed either."

Samus siiiiighs in return. "The only others around are the rest of the crew and you can't shoot them. I was on my way to the Sensoriums to practice my shot."

"Well okay, but when the aliens overrun us and I'm the only one with a gun on hand I'm gonna laugh so hard," says Grif smugly.

"I mean seriously, you trust all these people?"

"No, I don't trust any of them actually," but that was typical of Samus.

"If there were aliens, we would know and you definitely would not be the only one with a gun."

"Exactly. And that's why I have my gun," he says with a sage nod.

"Then why were you acting like I shouldn't have one, huh? Someone's hypocritical."

"You can't shoot the crew," sometimes, Samus wonders if this is a good or a bad thing. "Stacy would stop you."

"It's perfectly alright to have it and be using it if the ship is being invaded, but right now there is no danger not to mention the fact that when your sleeping someone could come up and take it anyway."

"Yeah, but I can point it at people. Sometimes that's good enough." Grif has found gunpointing to be very useful. It also takes less effort than actual shooting.

"I'd wake up if they tried to take it away." He looks at Samus as if that's about the dumbest thing he's ever heard.

"Who are you to be bossing me around anyway?"

"Samus Aran, Team Golf leader. What team are you on?" Morbid curiosity. She'll pity whoever his leader is.

"... Goddammit!"

Oh boy, Samus sighs.

"You're on my team aren't you?"

"Yeah. Great."

He seems rather sulky about this. "So, you want to start yelling at me now and get it over with? Because I don't do this stupid teamwork BS."

"I ~~probably~~ won't yell," Samus crosses her arms. Teams aren't her forte, but goddammit she wanted to prove she could train them into the best.

Not that she'd ever admit she had anything to prove...

"Two things: You don't get yourself killed, you don't get anyone else even hurt. If you listen to me, we won't have to worry about either."

"You see, I'm not so good at the whole "teams" thing," says Grif. "Last team I was on? They spent most of their time trying to find ways to get me killed. And that was just the dudes on MY side."

"I've been drafted into something I didn't want before. I know how to get through this."

"Obviously, if your teammates tried to kill you, you were doing something wrong." Listen to Samus, that's how you'll get through this.

"No, it's because my sergeant was a crazy old fruitloop with a bootlicking sidekick."

He folds his arms.

"I didn't ask to be here, and I didn't ask to be put on some stupid team."

"No one asked to be here, but we are. I didn't ask to be put in charge but I am now, and I'm making sure my team doesn't make fools of themselves when we have to actually go on planet. I'm your leader, not a babysitter."

Hypocritical? Never.

"I vote we elect our leader. And our team name. What kind of a stupid name is "Golf" anyway, did you pick it?"

"No and no. Is the name that big of a deal anyway?"

"Hey, I thought you guys were all fair and stuff. What is this, a dictatorship?" No Samus, Grif doesn't plan to make your life any easier right now.

"And yeah, it kind of is. Why can't we have a better name? Who's going to respect a team named after some boring sport old guys play. I mean, puh-leeze. Can we at least be team Football?"

"Life on the ship is never fair." And, aw, she was considering picking a second in command for the team but Grif is definitely out of the running for that now.

"No," honestly, the name doesn't even matter to Samus but she wants to make sure that Grif knows she won't back down from the start.

"Yeah, but if I whine to some of the captainy dudes something might happen. I mean, they gave this nice talk about us all working together and stuff." Grif doesn't care, he just wants off the team. What he'd do if he managed it, though, he has no idea.

"I'm going to call it that anyway, now," says Grif. "I like the ring of it."

"I have rank over you. If I wanted, I could easily get you put on a worse team. Or, if you prefer, dropped off in the middle of space somewhere."

Okay so that's a lie, but Grif doesn't know that. As far as he knows, Samus has a lot of influence with the command staff.

Grif looks at her. Just looks. Then he sighs.

"Alright, fine, I'll play nice. What do you want?"

"I just want you to listen to me," it doesn't sound that bad right now, but considering all the things Samus will probably ask of her team... Not the greatest.

"We'll be starting training soon. What's your name?"

"Okay. Listening. I can do that." For now, anyway. Listening isn't hard. They'll just start having problems when doing things comes up.

"Name's Grif. I can shoot and I can drive. Who are you?"

"Samus Aran," She sighs a little because Grif apparently wasn't listening when she said it before.

"Expect a message with our first team practice soon."

Oh. Right. Grif yawns a little bit. Stupid Samus, waking him up. Making him forget she already said his name. Who needs team leaders anyway?

"Ngh. Right. Sounds like fun. Now if you'll excuse me, I was doing something."

Grif flops back on the meat couch and shuts his eyes purposefully.

Oh it will be fun. If you consider working to the point of exhaustion fun. If not, then it might not be as pleasant.

Samus shakes her head and walks away.

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Sleeping [OPEN]

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