trans_9 | (no subject)

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There are a few constants in life. One of those is 'diagnostics is boring'. This is a fact that Tex has picked up on very quickly-and so she's eager to get away from it for awhile. Her hologram appears on the obs deck, and she glances around briefly, looking to see who else might be around. There's got to be somebody to vent her snark and frustration on, right?

Right?

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Grif is sulking by one of the big Obs Deck windows, holding a cold compress over his right eye and looking out with the other in a sullen, resentful sort of way.

He doesn't want to be here, he doesn't want to be in pain, and he doesn't want to be on the same team as that Samus chick. Much less with her bossing him around.

He's busy plotting his revenge.

Oh, look! A convenient target!

"So. Still have an eye in there?" Tex gives him a curious glance. "Or is it time to start looking for a plant-eyepatch?"

Just the person, er, hologram he didn't want to see.

"You're a laugh riot, Tex." He turns to scowl at her with his good eye. "Don't you have anyone else to bother, maybe something like... a PMSing crocodile?"

Grif doesn't love you at all, Tex.

"Even that sounds more fun than doing diagnostics." She shrugs, then crosses her arms. "But to answer your question? No. Talking to you's the best I can do right now. Sad as that is."

"Well I don't want to make you sad. So go away."

He turns back to the window smartly, clearly still fuming over earlier. I'm pretty sure that's not what she means by that, Grif, but okay.

"What, and miss the chance to clock how long it takes your face to stop changing colors? To hell with that."

She pauses. "So did you admit she kicked your ass, or did you make something up about walking into a door?"

Grif sighs. This isn't going the way he wants it to, which mostly involves Tex leaving and his face healing. Preferably in that order, though the latter's going to take a while.

"She punched me in the face. Anybody asks, that's what happened. What? I'm not going to do her popularity any favors."

As far as Grif's concerned, it's war now. Samus might be able to force him to behave later when they're in circumstances where she can physically threaten him, but outside those circumstances he intends to be as much of a thorn in her side as he can.

Regardless of the fact that Grif's the one who started it anyway.

"Actually? Once the crew gets to know you better, it might make her more popular. I like her already." Tex approves of fellow violent women. It means she has someone to trade tips with!

"And that mark's going to be around for awhile. Trust me."

"Then why don't you go make out and stop bothering me? I know you might find this hard to understand, but I don't like you."

Yes, he did just say that. But Grif doesn't like the idea of the whole crew being against him, it'd be like the Red Army all over again and he does not need that. So that hit kind of close to home.

"Like that's every stopped me from making fun of somebody. I don't like you either, but that doesn't mean I can't get some entertainment out of this. What the hell were you thinking, pissing her off like that?"

"I'm not letting her boss me around just because some stupid ship says so. Who put the ship in charge and what's it gonna do about it?"

Grif huffs.

"And what's with our team name anyway? Team GOLF? Can we GET any lamer?"

"Considering that the ship can smack around anybody she feels like, whenever she feels like? I think the ship put the ship in charge, and if you try anything, you're going to get a tentacle to the head."

The second part of his rant prompts a stare. "...How long were you in the army for, again?"

"Uh huh. Right. Well, when the ship makes me, maybe I will. But I'm not listening to Samus. I don't listen so good to people that hit me, unless they've got a shotgun in the other hand to back it up with." By which he means Sarge. Sort of.

"Three years. Why?"

"I'm sure she'll find one of those eventually. Or something else. And I'm asking because if you've been in that long, you should now that it's part of military alphabet code."

"I'll worry about that BS when I come to it. For now, the ship says she can't beat me up so there," he says, as though that settles it. Really, that's the only reason he's still so stubborn about this. Grif feels protected by the ship, at least for now, so he's not terribly afraid of any of the potential consequences for mocking Samus.

"Code? What code? The only code I know was Sarge's. And you know what the code was? 'Code'."

"Just wait until you have to go off the ship with her. That's when things should get interesting."

Tex pauses to stare at Grif again. "...That's sad in a different way. And the code's A alpha, B bravo, C charlie-any of this sounding familiar?"

"She can't do anything if I behave then." Grif seems to think he has this covered.

The phonetic alphabet? Seriously Tex, you're talking to the guy who spent most of basic training learning to sleep and smoke inside his helmet. Sometimes both at once.

"I think you're making it up."

"She could still hit you for pissing her off before. Save it all up."

Tex just keeps staring. "How the hell can you not know this?"

"Other people wouldn't let that happen though." Grif's pretty sure, anyway. If not, he's not looking forward to his first mission at all.

"Because you made it up. How am I supposed to know?!"

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