you could have a rabbit

[handelaar]

CHARACTERS: Netherlands, Hyperion, and Lodewijk
LOCATION: 026 » 069
WARNINGS: Weeeeed.
SUMMARY: Hyperion kindly rabbit-sat while Netherlands went through hellhalls, time to get his bunny back.
NOTES: Backdated to after June's plot!


[After sending a short, matter of fact text stating that he'd be picking up his rabbit at 17:00 ship time, Netherlands cleans up. Shower, shave, change of clothes - stuff he'd picked up from Arima so he's looking pretty space pirate grunge - all that shit, though he doesn't bother with fixing his hair, just towels it off and lets it dry into the pile of floof it is when left to its own devices. He puts away the small armory strapped to his person and swaps it out for weed stashed on his person, makes his way up the decks.

Knocks at 17:00 almost exactly, shifting his weight in anticipation.

Dude's pretty banged up, but most of it's covered up; the only obvious injuries are minor scrapes and bruises across his knuckles and face, and a busted blood vessel in one eye. Creepy looking, but his rabbit won't care and so he doesn't.]

Comments

[nightblogs]

[There might be the sound of Hyperion telling Mr Rabbit to scoot before he comes on over to let the doors slide open, wearing one of those nerdy shirts Wheatley left behind. The jumpsuit is only word half-down, sleeves tied in a knot around his waist. His hair's pretty grown-out right now, too.

His expression brightens up when he sees Netherlands.]

Neds, my man! You made it. Just in time, too, [He's placing one arm around his shoulders, because they're totally buddies, right?] Come 'n say hello to your pal.

[handelaar]

[Neds, jfc. For a beat he simply stands there looking stricken, and only half of that is because of the surprise buddy grab. Sometimes Hyperion really, really reminds him of Denmark - some combination of the big dumb grin and easy assumption that they're buddies and general thickheadedness, and the fact that Neds is only one syllable away from being Nedsy.

Or maybe he's just stuck on thinking about people from home after all of that hallway bullshit. Whatever. Either way he clears his throat and awkwardly claps a hand to Hyperion's shoulder before letting go.]

Ah. Yeah. [Cue worried brows.] He's okay, right.

[Probably asleep because Lodewijk is the actual laziest rabbit in the universe.]

[nightblogs]

Yeah, man, [he leads him to the pillow he set up for make it Lolo's bed (that's what he's been calling him, never you mind) where the rabbit is comfortably settled, eyes shut.] Look at how cool he is right now. Have you ever seen a cooler rabbit? That answer's no, no you haven't.

[handelaar]

Cool.

[Muttered skeptically as he crouches down near the pillow and raises a brow up at Hyperion.]

I - he's not high, is he.

[omg Lodewijk pls don't be high. He gives the rabbit a cautious poke.]

[nightblogs]

[hey]

Dude! Why would I get your rabbit high?

[handelaar]

[There's a look shot Hyperion's way which clearly means why the fuck do you do anything, and he rolls his eyes, then returns his attention to Lodewijk.]

Wake up, asshole.

[Lodewijk wakes up. Ned is suddenly +5000 bunny face kisses. If Hyperion wasn't right there he'd probably be cooing and he looks for all the world like a man on the verge of cooing anyway.]

[nightblogs]

[aw, isn't that cute. Hyperion leans back against a wall with arms crossed, lopsided smirk on his lips.]

You're adorable, dude.

[handelaar]

Don't give 'im a big head, [he mutters, but there's nothing actually chastising about it.

Meanwhile he scrunches up the side of his face still under attack and digs around in his pockets for - there. Bag of weed. Twists enough to look up and hold it out to Hyperion.]

[nightblogs]

[With a snort-] I meant you, Neds, [harhar. Then his expression brightens up because aw yeah, weed.]

Oh, cool! Thanks. You didn't have to.

[It's like it's Christmas for him every time.]

[handelaar]

[Cue another "what are you even on" look and a srunchy face over that.]

Adorable, [like he's testing out the word in English even though he's plenty fluent. Polyglots. Meanwhile he hauls Lodwijk into his lap and fishes out his own joint, a lighter, lifts his brows. y?]

[nightblogs]

[He's on life, bro.]

Cool. Let me get somethin' first - [he walks on over to the desk, pulls a chair, and places it next to his bed so he's got somewhere to sit, too.]

So, how was it? The creepy trip.

[handelaar]

[Netherlands just keeps on keeping on down there on the floor, pets his rabbit once and rolls his eyes with a grunt.]

Sucked ass. Y' - [tiny frown] - you were right.

[Yeahhhh just gonna light up now screw talking about the ship while sober man.]

[nightblogs]

Told you! See, this is why I'm still alive, man, 'cause I stay out of the creepy shit.

[he taps his temple with a finger. All smarts, this guy.]

You and your buddies made it though, right?

[handelaar]

[He snorts out smoke and it only has a tinge of sleepless hysteria to it. Mostly it's darkly amused, but he sobers up (for a given value of sober while smoking) with the next question.]

Got separated... [Vague handwave that means "out there" before he continues.] Most of 'em are back. Heather's back. Haven't - don't know about Rey.

[nightblogs]

'Course you got separated.

[wouldn't be a proper horror movie otherwise.]

Who's Rey?

[handelaar]

Tank girl.

[Best explanation A+ obviously. A beat, and he rattles off her number - ]

Oh-oh-one-oh-five-six.

[nightblogs]

[a shrug, and a pbbt sound.]

Never heard of 'er. She cool, then?

[handelaar]

[A nod! A nod with an exclamation point!]

Can light a smoke with her fingers.

[He wiggles the fingers of his other hand like it wasn't clear enough. It's awesome okay.]

[nightblogs]

Cool. So it's like a super power?

[handelaar]

Uh...

[He purses his lips and thinks; it takes more time than it probably should.]

Depends. On what a superpower is.

[nightblogs]

You know - like starting fire with your mind and shit. Moving objects. Reading thoughts.

All with your mind.

[handelaar]

[THAT'S... a good question. He blinks and waves his joint Hyperion's way in offer.]

Don't think she can make fire.

[nightblogs]

[Come to papa, little joint.]

It'd be cool if she could. Unless she was like a maniac, I guess. We got enough shit goin' on in this place.

[handelaar]

She's not a maniac.

[It probably comes out a little too quick and snappy.]

Can - touch stuff and burn it... [And here's Netherlands, placing his hand on the ground as demonstration.] Like a stove, or whatever.

[nightblogs]

So she can like, fry an egg in her hand?

[hyuck, hyuck. That'd actually be cool too.]