Oh starry night, come and chart a course

[to_fly_free]

Who: Jean Grey + any and all Spades welcome
Where: The Sun
When: Early June, soon after she's invited? I'm all for flexible timing if you are >.>
What: How about another Phoenix on board, huh guys? Huh?
Warnings: With Jean? Could be anything from unzipping your pants for you to trying to atomize you.
Style: Prose preferred
Status: Open



Despite the Phoenix's bravado on the strange journal network, Jean herself is nervous about this. Not the teleportation thing; even if something goes wrong, there probably isn't anyone here who deserves more to have her molecules scrambled across the atmosphere. Not even seeing Logan again, though she knows the Phoenix is strangely quiet about that, which worries her. No, it's being on that ship, around other people. She knows Logan can take care of himself, that he can survive her, but what about the rest of them? What if she hurts someone? Kills them?

So she takes her time before visiting the Brig, and even then she hesitates before stepping within range of what they call the Naviraimant. But where else can she go? At least if Logan is around he can stop her. Like before.

Jean takes a deep breath and steps forward; in the next instant she's enveloped in a bright white light that seems almost familiar. And in the next after that, she's on board the Sun.

Comments

[om_nom_namur]

"Never did catch yer name sweetheart."

Jean probably wouldn't be as surprised as some to see an eight foot tall shark fishman hanging out on the deck, but he might not be what she expected to find, either. There was a fishing net spread out in front of him, and he fiddled with it here and there, fixing up holes with a thick needle.

[to_fly_free]

Hey, she's seen stranger things. Stranger people. Still, putting that face to the voice is a little surprising. This world seems to be crawling with mutants. People like her.

There's nobody like me.

"Jean," she says, and then eyes his handiwork. "Going fishing?" Somehow it seems incongruous.

[om_nom_namur]

Yes, imagine, a shark eating fish.

"Namur," he nodded, sniffing the air now that she'd arrived, trying to get an idea of what she's about. "Got a hugeass crew t' feed, an' not a whole lotta space t' be storin' shit that's gonna go bad in a few weeks, y' know? 'Sides. Fish're tasty. Course y' all wouldn't know jus' how tasty cuz y' burn the life outta everythin' an' cut it all up 'fore y' eat it." He might sound just a little bit petulant. "Buuuut that's jus' how y' do, so whatever."

[to_fly_free]

That makes her smile a little despite herself. "Otherwise we'd probably get sick," she points out gently. "But I'm guessing you don't have that problem."

[om_nom_namur]

Namur snorted a chuckle. "If y' was gonna get sick by it y' wouldn'a made up sushi. Or sashimi or ceviche. The hell's with all the raw fish shit startin' with s sounds anyway? Damn, now I gotta talk t' Zeff. 'S gonna bug the shit outta me." He turns and points at her. "Zeff's the cook, by the by. Ace's captain, Thatch's co-cap, Marco's first mate an' I got bosun. Ain't got many rules an' one a the big'ns is be yerself an' do what y' want, but that don't mean there ain't a peckin' order, catch me?"

[to_fly_free]

"Well, actually, raw fish cuisine tends to use flash frozen meat, or certain species with a low parasite count." She can't help the lecturing tone; it's the scientist in her. At least she follows it up with a half-apologetic, "But I'm sure the cook can tell you more about that."

Being "yerself" and doing what "y'want"? She can see why Logan likes this crew. Still.

"And I doubt you'd want me to be myself."

[om_nom_namur]

"Oh an' yer the expert on shit I want, huh?" he cackles a little. "C'mon sweetheart. People might be hard t' get used t' sometimes but y' ain't gonna be happy if yer havin' t' hide all the damn time."