thisavrou_log | [ catch-all for miles ]

Who: Miles and YOU
When: anywhere from the beginning of the month to..... eh (wobbles hand)
Where: the bar, sanitation, the vor cabin, WHEREVER YOU WANT
What: Miles being a miserable depressive sadsack and then getting better! Making amends for being a shit during the event! Teaching the new guy how to not break the septic system! Whatever your heart desires!
Warnings: TBA

The last couple of weeks have been disaster. Miles had been so caught up in the effects of the exuo and the eclipse that he'd lost control of himself more than once, instigating a few fights and severely paying for it afterward. The broken arm will heal fine, but the cracked ribs are going to be a pain for a little while yet. Not to mention the whole nearly being sacrificed in the name of bringing back a little sunlight. That? That he can live without.

But the worst thing about it was the knowledge that something -- something was messing with his brain, and he still doesn't fully understand what or why or even how. It'd made him lose himself, hit that edge dangerously close and slip right off it. In Miles' line of work, he can't afford that -- and he's not sure he can live without his line of work. It all gets very...tangled up sometimes.

He's exhausted, after it all winds down. The -- effect, whatever it was, it had him going so hard for so long that as soon as it wore off, Miles crashed hard. His post-mania funks are never pretty, but this one's especially black, made only worse by the stinging memory of some of the things he'd said. He can't get that much privacy in his cabin with Ivan and Gregor, but he tucks a sheet under Ivan's mattress to create a makeshift curtain and resolutely hole up as far in the corner as he can in a miserable little pile of Miles Naismith Vorkosigan.

It wears off after a few days, much to Ivan and Gregor's relief as well as his own. Once the black clouds have passed, though, Miles drags himself out of bed. Time to get back his forward momentum. Time to get back to work. He's got double duty, after all, at the bar and in sanitation, and last he checked, he's got a new guy to train. Hopefully the place is still running alright. Miles feels a bit bad about not being consistent about showing up for work, but now that he's determined to get his shit back together, he makes a project out of cleaning out the whole damn bar and rearranging it, and as for sanitation -- well, he'll make an action plan when he gets down there.

[ this is a catch-all, so feel free to tag in with whatever or request a starter if needed! ]

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Eggsy's eyes narrow, and his lips pinch. He doesn't look fine, and Eggsy's expression will show Miles that he doesn't believe him.

"I can see that you ain't. Is this all stuff from back on the planet?"

His voice is low, careful. Cause if someone's been hurting Miles or he's got an abusive roommate, Eggsy wasn't having any of it. He'd make sure they never hit him again.

"Or is someone botherin' you?"

Eggsy nods, stepping into the room, and Stark gives one quick glance up at Eggsy and he's gone, a blur of tan color and wagging tongue.

Miles keeps a careful eye on Stark as he darts around the cabin -- if that thing gets into Ivan's kitten tree, there'll be hell to pay, Miles is sure of it. He lets the cabin door slide shut, brows drawing down slightly at the question.

"Uh, most of it's from before, actually," he says, rubbing lightly at his jaw where Niko had struck him. The contusion's all but faded now. It had been one hell of a week. "Nobody's bothering me, Eggsy, you don't have to worry about that. I can take care of myself all right."

Yeah, because he really looks like a guy who can take care of himself right now. Still, Miles is a stubborn bastard. He rubs at one of the dark circles under his eyes. "I've just been tired. Can't really blame me, after that..." Miles mentally cycles through a couple of particularly colorful terms for that event, finds no invective strong enough, and waves a hand. "Whatever that was."

Eggsy grins when Stark settles in the middle of a bed, and he gestures at the alien-dog.

"He okay there? Like I'll get him down if he ain't."

Now that he's in the room, he shoves his hands into his pocket, and moseys around, not really looking at anything, listening.

"I know you can. Handled yourself just fine back on that planet. Just don't want nobody hurtin' ya or anythin'. Everyone's got someone stronger than 'em, nothin' wrong with getting help if you need it."

A pause.

"But since you don't need it." He waves a hand, he knows not to push. "Yeah, don't know what all that was, but I'm glad it's over now."

Miles glances at Stark. The weird...dog thing is perched on his bunk. "Yeah, he's fine there," he sighs in resignation. He watches Eggsy, listens, and he's prepared to be defensive out of sheer habit -- but that isn't giving Eggsy enough credit, because the other man clearly has some respect for Miles. That's refreshing. He usually has to fight a little harder to earn it -- although he supposes the ridiculous two-man shootout they'd gone on hardly counted as an easy venture.

"No shit," Miles agrees amiably. He thinks of taking a seat on his bed, decides that's too close to Stark, and instead leans against a post of the opposite bunk -- Gregor's. "How about you? I didn't get a chance to check on you after all that went down -- " Because he was too busy wallowing in his own depression, of course. "Everything alright with you?"

Miles deciding not to sit next to Stark tells Eggsy that he should. He didn't want the pup to get lonely or anything, so he sits down, and gently pats his head. It's weird getting used to the way Stark's head feels, but he doesn't mind because the alien-dog always responds the same way. He flops forward, closes his eyes, and makes a noticeable humming sound that's a mix between a cat purring and a cricket chirping. Odd, but it's clear Stark is pleased.

"Yeah. S'alright here. Kinda just tryin' to get myself settled. Don't wanna go stir crazy."

He sighs a little, cause he's already bored.

"Ya know. We should go explorin' sometime. Maybe go to the bar and see if we can't chat up some lovely birds. Or blokes."

"Er -- birds only for me, thanks," Miles says, raising an eyebrow. He totally doesn't judge if that's what you're into, Eggsy, but Miles is tragically heterosexual. He grins sharply at Eggsy, though, eyes lighting up a little -- more alive than he's looked in the last week or so, that's for damn sure.

"You know I tend the bar, don't you? Well, ever since Niko left for cargo bay. I guess that suits him better." Not that Miles is all that well-suited to this. His teeth are starting to itch, doing all this dull nothing-work. It feels pointless, especially when he knows he could be making far better use of his talents here.

"To each their own, yeah?" he says with a wink.

Eggsy doesn't judge. Nothing wrong with liking one or the other or both. He was easy going in that regard. And all this meant was that Eggsy was free to flirt with all the guys and they could flirt with the girls together.

"Do you? Honestly, I've only been once and that was back when I first got here. Wasn't anyone tendin' anythin' I don't think. So if you're workin' there, then you've got the hookup."

Miles nods mildly in agreement, leaning back on Gregor's bed and kicking his short legs up onto the mattress. At least these beds are rather low-slung.

"Come by any time," he says expansively, spreading his hands. "Bar's only closed before dinner when I'm working evening kitchen shifts a few days a week, but it still opens up after mealtime." Frankly, at this point he'd kill for a more significant post on this ship. The Beverage Dissemination Officer title loses some of its sheen when you realize that any jackass with a lockpick or the inclination to use brute force could easily turn his station into a self-service bar, and he's starting to get terrifically bored. Miles cocks an eyebrow at Eggsy. "It's kind of a small crew, so far. Did you have anyone in particular in mind?"

He sure as hell doesn't. There seems to be an unfortunate shortage of women here.

"You met, Fiona? Or Elizabeth?"

Eggsy tips his head to the side, grinning a little.

"They're well fit, an' tough, too."

They were the only two women that Eggsy knew on the ship, and he didn't know either of them very well. Elizabeth better cause they'd actually spoken, while him and Fiona were fighting off crazy natives. But they were both attractive, in Eggsy's opinion.

"Other than that, s'just fellas." Loki and Billy, wistful sigh. Both handsome and both taken.

Miles raises an eyebrow at Eggsy, but thoughtfully. "I haven't met them, no," he admits, shaking his head. The names sound sort of familiar, at least. He could identify their jobs on the ship, if not their faces. He teeters, unable to help himself.

"Alright, so tell me about them."

[ catch-all for miles ]

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