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The pillows remark game him a moment’s pause: how would they have run out of pillows? How was it even possible? But he banished the thought from his mind when Alex reached out to take the mug and found it firmly anchored in his superior grip.

Trying (and failing) to keep the amusement off his face, Jaxer weathered the several attempts at taking the mug, feeling nothing more than a small amount of pressure at the edge of the prosthesis, where it was anchored to what remained of his organic arm.

In response to the question, Jaxer glanced down at the liquid - although the term could only loosely apply to the mug’s contents at this point - and wrinkled his nose in disgust at the grey substance.

“Not particularly,” he said. “it reminds me of the stuff we pulled out of the carbon dioxide filter last time we cleaned it.”

Jaxer slung himself into a seat at the table and tipped the mug back and forth, staring at its contents moving about, before putting it down on the table and sliding it towards Alex. “I think I’ll stick to drinks that don’t look like they’re going to crawl away at any moment, thanks. Although speaking of, do you happen to know what happened to the coffee machine, or…?”

Alex was stumped when Jaxer slid the mug over to him, as he hadn’t thought Jaxer would actually let it go in the end. Was that just friendly teasing then? Nothing inherently aggressive? He grabbed the mug and drank its content, which tasted -- well, not excellent, but he liked the hot, peppery tang it left on his tongue. 

Alex then mulled over the coffee machine. 

“I’m not one-hundred percent sure myself, but Parker last used it,” he answered. “He was probably too lazy to fix it. If I tried, I’d irreparably damage it, so I figure someone else could take care of it. Like you or Edd.” He shrugged, then returned to his datapad for a moment before a thought occurred to him. 

“I’ve been wanting to ask. Cheimon is going to be extremely cold, so can the ship’s engines handle it? Do we need to insulate anything?”

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Alex ambled down the hallway leading to the ship’s storage, one hand clutching a clipboard and the other clicking a pen repeatedly. His steps echoed dully on the metal floor, and the cold, lifeless sound sent shivers down his spine. Sometimes, the ship felt too big.

It was almost time to leave for the mission, and Alex was double-checking their inventory to make sure the crew was good to go. He had no doubt that things were in perfect conditions, but he’d heard enough horror stories about stowaways to feel paranoid. Rounding a corner, he was caught off guard by the sound of things moving around. He slowed his pace, prayed that this person wasn’t a random thief, and went to the source of the sound. 

Thankfully, it was the new member -- er, robot -- of the crew. Isa greeted him in the kind of polite manner that reminded Alex of service bots on Selmar, but the uncanny human-like appearance made it hard for Alex to determine how to interact with him. Alex noticed that Isa was cleaning out space, probably in preparation for the confiscated weapons, which was quite clever of him. Alex had forgotten about that.

“Oh, well,” Alex started, then sort of trailed off. “I mean, I think what you’re doing is pretty useful already. I doubt you’d want to check a whole lot of items on a list.” He flipped his papers to the correct page and scanned the area where Isa had been reorganizing. “You did a great job, honestly,” Alex complimented with a hint of awe. “I wonder what else you can do. Care to tell me? Or is there a manual or something I should read before ... ” Was it offensive to say that to Isa?

His first mission, as a Company-employed android, attached to a practically legendary crew of Bounty Hunters. And Isa was, so far, spending most of it stacking crates - reorganizing the hold, to make room for all those weapons they were, supposedly, going to seize. Somebody had to rationalize their frankly horrific so-called storage system, down here; somebody who obviously had nothing better to do. Which was, of course, what he did his very best to project whenever any of his crewmates came along.

Such as the moment at hand, when he shifted precisely four hundred and twenty four pounds of spare fittings, rattling around in a lockbox of questionable structural integrity, to find somebody on the other side. “Good morning,” Isa began, in that politely guileless tone he’d selected, back in that bloody garage; the basic vocal program. Not too imposing, nor too interesting. Not enough of anything, really, to draw any attention whatsoever. Or so he hoped. “Do you require my assistance, at this time?”

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“Will it at least knock a person out? Because, trust me on this, if you use something that just makes your attacker angrier –that is worse than not fighting back at all.” Tali warned him. Her emergency-go bag didn’t actually have many weapons, considering that it was only for emergencies, it was mostly medical supplies, food, some oxygen re-breathers, survival gear. “I mean, I’ll be wearing my warm clothes for the mission, so it really wouldn’t make sense to pack it away.” She shrugged, zipping up one of the pouches. “You gonna stick to the ship this mission, or you gonna go out and make snow angels?”

‘Knock a person out’? That was ... a very good point, actually.

“Er, depends on the size, I guess. Tasers can knock people out, right?” Alex was starting to get nervous about his nonlethal weapon of choice. He’d been content to have something that fit his personal beliefs, but if it would only make his opponents angrier, and therefore more aggressive, then perhaps it was time to choose a different one. What a shame.

He nodded at Tali’s reasoning for not packing warmer clothes. 

“Ship,” he replied almost instantly. But, feeling that he may have crossed a boundary of some kind, he backtracked, “Unless I’m needed, of course. Though I doubt snow angels are going to help you guys in any way. And by the way, if you happen to see a Cheimon crystal necklace, do you mind getting it for me? I’ll even pay if you end up actually buying.” 

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“Hm?” Alex perked up at Parker’s talking. “Yeah, sure. I don’t even know why people live there, arms deal or not.” 

He walked closer to Parker and peeked over his shoulders to look at the datapad. “It is a little strange, but I guess the Company’s eccentric like that? Who knows. Maybe there’s something else going on we’re not aware of, but I honestly don’t care. The pay’s not bad.”

Parker planted himself in the common room, all attention focused on the information currently displayed on his datapad. It was fairly typical of him to study whichever planet the mission called them to. The recon was going well until he noticed a shadow  now blocking his vision of the screen. “Cheimon seems like a bizarre place for an arms deal, don’t you think?” He asked, not bothering to look back to see who he was actually talking to. “It’s hard to imagine a well-organized rebel force considering how cold it is… and there’s very little to note other than the research facility.”

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Jaxer paused mid-stride at the news of the coffee machine’s sad demise. He’d been hoping for a cup or seven before he got back to work prepping the ship for takeoff. Much like any other stimulant, he needed several times the amount that anyone else on the crew did, just to stop it being broken-down so quickly by his synthetic organs.

Alex’s request gave him momentary pause, before a wicked grin bloomed on his face.

“Of course,” he said, pleasantly, “happy to help.” He crossed to the fridge and opened it, taking a moment to locate the mug in question before withdrawing it with his cybernetic hand. “Anything else I can get for you?” he asked as he crossed the short distance back to his seated colleague. “A few more pillows, perhaps? Would you like me to move the ship slightly to the left after I get back to the cockpit, so you can catch the afternoon sun?”

Jaxer smiled pleasantly as he came to a stop beside Alex, holding out the mug as if inviting him to take it, whilst subtly strengthening his grip. Not enough to smash it, but certainly enough to cause problems for the pencil-pusher if he tried to grab it.

Alex was surprised that Jaxer acted so friendly. He was reaching to his mug with a thankful nod when Jaxer continued on with his ridiculously saccharine tone. Alex scowled. It didn't take a genius to see he was being mocked. 

People are always offended by something, he thought dimly. 

“We're short on pillows,” Alex replied with a hint of frustration. In the midst of processing paperwork, he'd forgotten to put in an order for some non-essential supplies. He had a feeling it would bite him back in the future somehow. He decided not to respond to the taunts and huffed in annoyance instead. There was no need to be so sarcastic -- his request had been perfectly polite. 

He grabbed the mug and pulled, but it didn't move an inch. He glared at Jaxer's cybernetic hand, then at Jaxer's amused eyes, then back at his mug. 

“Are you serious?” he said. He tugged a little more, then gave up and leaned back on the couch. “What do you want? You wanna drink that or something?”

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Nox had his glass raised halfway to his lips when the word ‘pity’ fell from Alex’s mouth. Slamming the glass back down on the counter, he ignored the slosh of alcohol that covered his hand. He spun around on his barstool and gritted his teeth. “I didn’t show up begging. I was assigned to the ship, just like all the other valuable assets.”

It wasn’t Alex’s fault that how Nox came to be a bounty hunter was a sore spot. Yet, Nox couldn’t shake the desire to make Alex pay for the pain his words caused. “And just for your information, I never punch people who don’t deserve it.” His hand twitched, as if he might raise it to Alex right then and there. “Do you really think I’m so stupid that I don’t know money matters? I know it’s important, I’m just saying that people know how to manage it for themselves.”

He wouldn’t say an ill word about the Company in a place like this, or in front of Alex, but Nox had a few thoughts about the Company’s ‘Head Secretary’ that were less than pleasant.

The loud slam jerked Alex out of his anger and pulled him straight into terror. He hated Nox and he loved getting a rise out of the man, but he never wanted things to escalate into violence. It seemed Alex had really pushed the right buttons tonight or something. 

“There’s a big difference between personal finance and macroeconomics, but whatever,” Alex replied lamely and finished his shot. “I’m out.”

He stood up from his bar seat and headed for the door. It irked him that he ended up running away after all, so he stopped to get the bartender’s attention briefly. He told the bartender to buy a round of drinks for everyone in the bar and read off Nox’s account number. With a small grin, he finally left and walked back to the Terminus, mood lifted. 

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The ship’s crew was still underway making preparations on the terminus before heading out on their assignment for the company. Darrow had gotten settled back into his room, leaving behind a well-loved duffle bag that he hadn’t quite unpacked yet. Plenty of time for that. He’d headed for the passenger lounge and found quickly he hadn’t been alone. One of their new crew members aboard already. Darrow just thought of the younger man as the numbers guy with an attitude; neither of which ranked high on the elder’s list of particular things he cared for.

Darrow looked at the mentioned coffee machine, then to the lights that needed to be replaced, then to the closed fridge door and then to Alex with it plainly written on his face ‘you’ve got to be kidding me’. “Your arm broken or something?” He asked. “Cause if it’s not, you can damn well get your own cup from the fridge.”

Alex scowled as he glanced up, but he recognized the man as one of the older members of the crew and bit back a bubbling retort. He’d read about Darrow’s long history in the military, and as much as it had impressed him, it had also instilled a sense of paranoia that he couldn’t quite get rid of. Military veterans like Darrow were powerful, both in the physical and the political sense. If Darrow decided to, say, take over the ship’s captaincy, no one would probably bat an eye. It grated on his nerves that he couldn’t trust Darrow, who seemed to be so popular amongst everyone else on the ship.

“Could’ve just said no,” Alex mumbled, but he made no efforts to move from the couch. He put his feet down from the table and scooted backward, attempting to put more distance between them discretely. “What did you want to get anyway? Don’t you guys usually roam around more in the weaponry storage?”

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CHARACTER TASK - ALEXEI BLUE’S MOODBOARD

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“Right? If the Company expects us to maintain our fighting edge, they gotta make allowances for us to upgrade our gear when we can.” She agreed, but gave a chuckle when he asked her to keep the weapons out of his sight. “I don’t know how you can feel safe on a bounty hunting ship without a firearm of your own. Not just ‘cause of the convicts, either, but some of the crew is kinda shady. I even sleep with a pistol in reach.”

Alex shrugged. “They’re more likely to fight each other than me, honestly. Plus, taking me out of the picture would just delay all kinds of payment, and I don’t think they want to deal with that.” He grinned when she mentioned the pistol. “I have a defensive weapon too, you know. Just not very lethal.”

Alex managed to catch a quick look at the contents she was packing -- the weapons made him shudder, but he had to admit she used her space rather efficiently. Alex could never fit so many things in such a small bag.

“Did you pack something to keep you warm?” he asked. “I’ve once had to go through a whole winter in North of Erebus without a decent insulated jacket. It’s not fun ... ”

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The passenger lounge was strangely empty at this time of the day, but Alex wasn’t complaining. He propped his legs on the table and flipped lazily through Cheimon news. Things were setting up to be a huge pain, to be frank. He’d never liked cold weathers, and the focus on weaponry irritated him to no end. He’d have to count and identify everything that was taken by the crew, including every single gun and its bullets’ year of production. How infuriating. The Company obviously had too much free time on their hands. 

A shadow passed over him, and he spoke without looking up, “The coffee machine’s broken, if that’s what you’re looking for. Lights are also burnt out, so don’t bother turning them on. Also, I don’t know who took the chips but they’re all gone. Though, do you mind grabbing the brown mug in the fridge for me?” It was a smoothie concoction he’d made earlier with protein blocks, fresh kale and strawberry from the city’s market, and a handful of pepper. The resulting liquid had turned dark gray, which hadn’t looked appealing, but it had still tasted great.

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“Right, aka, something we could all do for ourselves without you there. Otherwise known as something that keeps you out of the actual job. Gods forbid you actually arrest anyone, right?” Nox tried counting down from ten in his head, but all he could think about was whether or not Alexei’s face would stick to the bar if Nox squished it against the surface.

His blue and brown eyes narrowed dangerously, anger bubbling in his chest. No one knew what kind of intellectually challenging work he had done in the past - but couldn’t Alexei at least see that being a spy currently was more intellectual than physical?

“Said like someone who’s never had to combine his body and his brain. You think you’re special because you’re good with numbers, but that doesn’t mean shit. The only reason people like you end up on ships likes ours is because you’re too annoying to actually have an office job. Everyone in the office would quit.”

Alex glowered at the insults and he had half a mind to just leave. It wasn’t incorrect, but he didn’t need this kind of hostility right before a mission, and he’d rather read a couple of books now than looking at Nox’s obnoxious face. But he was prideful and he wasn’t about to turn tail like a coward. His grip on the glass tightens.

Shooting a contemptible glare at Nox, he said, “Tell that to the Company’s Head Secretary then. Money keeps the world running. Without people like me, you’ll never have things like this.” He gestured around the bar. “The business, the alcohol production, the services. But you won’t get it. You’re too busy punching people.”

And by the way, he’d never apply for an office job. He’d go back to Selmar before that ever happened.

“ ‘End up on ships like ours’?” Alex continued. “Need I remind you how our dear captain took pity on you when you arrived on her doorstep like a beggar? I wish I were there just to see what pathetic state you were in.” 

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Nox knew it was par for the course, but that didn’t mean jabs about his untimely death bounced off him easily. After all, he’d lost everyone and everything less than a year ago. No one recovered from that quickly. His jaw twitched as he ground his teeth, his hand clamping around the nearly empty glass of liquor he’d been sipping for ages.

“My crowd? You do know we work together, right? We are the same crowd. Gods, why are you even here? This doesn’t seem like your type of place. There are too many people willing to get their hands dirty and you know, actually do some work.”

Alex and Nox? The same crowd? Ridiculous. They couldn’t be any further apart even if they tried. 

People say there’s a kind of camaraderie between two strangers in the same hardship. Alex would’ve believed it if reality hadn’t played out as it did. Both Alex and Nox came to Terminus only recently, almost at the same time, but they fought each other like cats and dogs since they first met. The reckless violence, the obvious lowly upbringing -- those all grated on Alex’s nerves.

“It’s called financial planning, if your brain can process that,” Alex sniped. His anger boiled at Nox’s accusation. Did he think Alex spend all day lazing away and doing nothing? “And last time I check, I can go wherever I like, dickhead. Plus, anyone can do the kind of work you do. There’s nothing intellectually challenging about it.”

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Alex huffed and rolled his eyes. There went his pleasant night out. Of all people, of course he’d bump into Nox in this bar. “Asshats? Are you including yourself too?” 

He gulped down his shot and slammed the glass on the bar table. He waved for the bartender for another round. A party sounded nice, actually. A party to celebrate Nox’s leaving the crew, that is. Maybe if Alex was annoying enough, Nox would just ditch them all.  

The alcohol was starting to hit him good, and Alex found his tongue loosened. 

“I will certainly make it back,” he said. “I don’t know about you though. You should go stick to your crowd or something. Stop bothering me.”

“I’m actually going to miss this place - even if it is filled with asshats.” With a snort, Nox looked over his shoulder to find one of the bar patrons glowering in his direction. Given that it was late into the night, the Outpost was crawling with people of all kinds…and plenty of them were not fans of bounty hunters. “Think they’ll throw us a welcome home party if we make it back alive?”

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Alex was just coming back from the kitchen to grab some extra chili for his curry, but Tali’s voice made him pause in his steps. He took a peek at what Tali was doing, then scrunched up his face. Was she planning to go somewhere? Why packing?

“I’m not against it,” he replied, crossing his arms. “Heaven knows we don’t have enough funds to upgrade anything at all. Though, I’d prefer you to keep them out of my sight. I can’t imagine anything pleasant about them. ” 

“Think we’ll be able to snag any of those ‘confiscated’ weapons for personal use? I’ve been thinking I should upgrade to something with a little more bang.” Tali wondered aloud as she went through her emergency go-bag, making sure her supplies were fully stocked. It wasn’t exactly standard issue, but Tali liked to make sure she was ready to hop into an escape pod with a moment’s notice, if necessary.

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( lee hyun jae, 26, cis male ) Word around the quadrant is that ( ALEXEI ‘ALEX’ BLUE ) is originally from (PHIUS), but have been on the terminus for (FIVE MONTHS). If you’re in a pinch, he’s a talented (FISCAL MANAGER). Is that why he’s the/a (TREASURER)? Anyway, everyone says he’s (+INTELLIGENT) and (+METICULOUS), but don’t get on his bad side because he’s (-RECALCITRANT) and (-UNFORGIVING).  Oh shoot, don’t look now! He has his (TASER) out!

Alex, in general, is a pretty aloof guy. He used to be a big asshole but he’s trying to change now, though it’s not working out so well because of his high-and-mighty attitude.

He’s someone who hates getting his hands dirty, preferring to work in a controlled environment inside some sort of institution. If he has to go out of the Terminus for any kind of fieldwork, you can be sure that he’ll grumble about it. 

Although he hates fieldwork, traveling around just for the sake of it is a favorite hobby of his. He collects trinkets and souvenirs from everywhere he visited, and he keeps a journal of places he loves. If you mention somewhere he knows, he won’t stop talking about it.

He’s good with numbers and money. Because he’s the treasurer of the ship, he always keeps check of the materials the ship has at any point in time, whether it be food, weapons, or tech pieces. He’s also the person handling contracts and payments from the Company. 

He may seem like a smooth and suave guy sometimes, but in reality, he’s quite awkward when it comes to being a friend. He’s constantly asking himself what is he supposed to do and what are the generally accepted social boundaries between friends. 

He thinks in terms of personal benefits before the common good. This usually makes him excellent at predicting enemy movements or terrible at reading people, because he believes everyone’s just as self-centered as he is. His assumptions can be insulting to those who are more self-sacrificing.

Alex hates violence and fighting. He thinks physical brawls are below him and never stays to watch any conflict in the Terminus. He loathes close combat weapons such as knives and brass knuckles, though long-range weapons such as guns are more tolerable. Blood is unsightly to him – if there’s too much blood present, he’ll feel nauseous and may even faint.

He doesn’t like being told what to do. He’ll rebel against direct orders if he feels like it. If you want Alex to do something, you have to convince him that it’s what he himself wants to do. He doesn’t think that he’s an employee of the Company – rather, he thinks they’re in a mutualistic relationship where he gets paid to travel around the universe in exchange for a few services.

You may find him frequently wandering around the Terminus at night. He’s always had a hard time sleeping and he likes looking at the stars.

He’s easily riled up. Behind that calm and collected appearance is a rather explosive personality. Also, if you betray him in any way, he’ll never forgive you. He values loyalty and he can hold his grudges for a long, long time.

He’s a pleasure-seeker – a hedonist, if you will. Before joining the Terminus, he used to live around Selmar Palace City, which is notorious for its pleasure-oriented businesses. Alex has tried them all: gambling, drugs, sex, and other kinds of entertainment. He’s curbed his bad habits now that he’s living in close quarters with many people, but that doesn’t mean he’s completely abandoned them. If he thinks you’re interested, he’ll draw you into doing something ‘fun’.

WHAT PEOPLE DON’T KNOW:

… is that Alex used to be a prince, once upon a time. His family was killed violently in a coup, and subsequent natural disasters had resulted in an exodus. Now, his home planet is void of life, and he travels around in hope of finding some of his people. He just wants to know if they’re doing all right. Otherwise, he doesn’t care much about anything else.

connection page

This is literally so late but like, here’s Alex guys! Looking forward to rp-ing with everyone!!

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It passes, but it does not pass away.

László Krasznahorkai (via bnmxfld)

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Lee Hyun Jae