forum See you, space cowboy (space pirate bounty hunter RP, OPEN)

Started August 12, 2018 by @WriteOutofTime

tune

Faye laughed rudely. "No, you just got your empty, yet biga** head stuck."

Ellen chuckled.

"Not nice, Faye. It has GPS and one half can shrink and grow with the right oil. It's not stuck. Do you want your AC or not?"

Faye sighed and grumbled, "I want less annoying crewmates."

"Look who's talking." Kirsten clambered back down, sealing the panel shut behind her.

"Same." Ellen said, chuckling.

Faye growled something again but didn't make it clear this time. Milo squelched.

"See, Faye? The beaver mechanic agrees with me. Boost ya game." Kristen turned on her heel and strided to her room.

"Who're you calling 'beaver mechanic'?" Ellen called after her.

"Milo, obviously. Who else? I mean, he did squelch for me." Kristen breezed down the ladder.

"Beavers don't squelch though. Or do they?" Ellen frowned. "I've never seen a beaver so I wouldn't know."

"The hell is a beaver mechanic? I thought all of the hillbillies of space were wiped out!"

"You idiots, I was being sarcastic," Kristen called back, and they could almost feel her rolling her eyes.

(hillbillies of space lol)
"Remind me again why we let her tag along?" Ellen quietly asked Faye.

"I have no idea," Faye whispered back.

Kristen huffed as her cube door slid shut behind her. Remind me again why I joined up with these people instead of any other crew? She asked herself.

Daso shook his head, melodramatically sorrowful. "How it pains me to see such…lovely ladies fight."

Ellen snorted. "If I'm lovely, then I'm a pickled beaver."

"Well I'm glad you're at least honest with yourself," he chirped, grinning, "but you're wrong! All women are queens, Ellen!"

Ellen shook her head, smiling. "Except the bad ones."

"Can't argue with you there." He winced, remembering quite a few women who were definitely not queens. His eyes widened slightly, "Oh, that reminds me. I got a call from this really creepy woman who wanted to meet with us to discuss a possible job."

"Okay. What's the possible job?" Ellen asked, leaning back against the wall.

"Assassination of some politician," he replied, grimacing. "I usually prefer the one's that are wanted alive, but hey. Money is money."

Ellen cracked her knuckles. "Alright then. Who do they want dead, and how much are they offering?"

"I don't know yet," he admitted. "She wouldn't offer any details over the telecoms. We have to meet her tomorrow, at some bar in Sector 2837."