The One With One Head [Video]

[twoheadsofcabbage]

[Scrad is looking angry. And alone. No backpack. No Charlie. He shakes slightly as he speaks.]

I want. The rest of my body back. Right. Now.

If I don't get it, I'm gonna...

[Scrad's eyes dart to the side, and his mouth opens and closes soundlessly, before he just cuts the the feed. Charlie would know what they were gonna do, but he has no idea.]

Comments

[twoheadsofcabbage]

Exactly. Either way, I'm still alone.

[umgekehrt]

....

[He feels like he's been recommending alcohol as a solution too often. Not that life before the barge had him half-trained to think of it as a sort of life-saving measure.]

If the other's with your warden... well, no, hmm.

[Well hell.]

Someone letting you into the bar?

[twoheadsofcabbage]

That Arkady chick said she'd bring booze, but she was swearing a lot, so.

What's even the point? I'd be alone there too.

[umgekehrt]

Wait-- she's a telepath. She might be able to speak with you a little more as you're used to. Assuming there's a shared component, because the hell do I know.

[twoheadsofcabbage]

That's not how we work.

[umgekehrt]

How, then? [Not sure the infirmary has something for 'lost head.']

[twoheadsofcabbage]

I don't know!

Charlie would know.

Or if he didn't know, I would know!

[Got that?]

[umgekehrt]

But you don't know. Ergo he does.

[twoheadsofcabbage]

Yeah, but there's just me.

[umgekehrt]

...does talking help at all, or does this make your head hurt? [As it does his.]

[twoheadsofcabbage]

It's better than silence.

I don't.

I've never not had. Just nothing.

[umgekehrt]

I'm sorry.

If you need somebody to talk to, the gym's quiet as hell and I could as well.

[twoheadsofcabbage]

...there's a gym?

[umgekehrt]

Yes. It used to have more of a staff. Or an attendance, just at present. But some of these folk who're getting aggressive will likely try to come pound each other to bits.

[twoheadsofcabbage]

Yeah, staying the hell away from that, thanks.

[umgekehrt]

It's interesting to watch. I could show you the corner where you get an unobscured view and aren't likely to get hit by a tooth.

[twoheadsofcabbage]

What stops you from being likely to get hit by a fist?

[umgekehrt]

It's a gym, not a bar-- anyone that invested in doing damage is sparring, showing off a bit-- not going for every comer, just whoever signed off to be in the ring.

[twoheadsofcabbage]

Our...[Scrad winces slightly at that slip] experience with people invested in doing damage is a little different from yours.

[umgekehrt]

I was in Fleet. All things considered, I prefer the gym to a brawl on leave or ground combat...

[twoheadsofcabbage]

And we prefer staying as far away from someone else's fists as possible.

[umgekehrt]

Fair enough. I trust in my native ability to survive most things. [He indicates his face.]

[twoheadsofcabbage]

Like what?

[umgekehrt]

Bottles to the face [points to a scar], shrapnel [points to another scar], more shrapnel [points out of frame], groundcar crash [the one that pins his eyebrow down], close-proximity explosions [he points to what is almost certainly a scar concealed under his shirt] .

That sort of thing.

[twoheadsofcabbage]

Right. That sort of thing. Not a fan.