navtechnicianez

[navtechnicianez]

// sorry ive been absent, ill get to replying soon. im looking for some new rp partners too... this has been lots of fun since i started. i may however need a few days to be sad about the loss of my jimmy...

[navtechnicianez]

It was just at the moment Ez was flipping back through the previous pages and admiring their work that they were plunged back into the reality of the situation, with Jones - entirely naked Jones - rapidly approaching...

"H-hey, wh- waitwaitwaitwait, hold up!!!"

Before they could even finish the thought, let alone the sentence, his hands were pulling at their clothes, brushing tension and electric fire over their skin, so unfamiliar with touch, as they leaned away. The sketchbook fluttered to the floor, pencil clattered away somewhere to the side as their hands went to wrap around his wrists, effectively stopping him. "This guy's got a screw loose for real!" They thought as their eyes went up to search his face, and saw that he met their cringing expression with one of confusion. Though he was certainly much stronger then they were, he allowed them to guide his hands away from their body as they stood up from the chair. "But so do I, clearly, since I'm really about to strip for this man..."

"Let me," Ezra insisted as they met his eyes, and with a sigh, they willed their hands not to tremble as they began to undo the belt and the buttons of their uniform work-dress, so they could pull it over their head and place it on the chair behind them. Their eyes were firmly planted on the floor as their face burned, now clad only in their clinging black tights and black long sleeved shirt - they grabbed the hem of the shirt and with a surge of conviction, pulled it up and over their head so they were left exposed in their lacy black bra, silver necklace hanging down over their chest.

"W-Well...?" They questioned, eyes flitting up to the man for a moment before they drifted off to the side. Their heart had gone from fluttering to racing to violently thumping beneath their sternum, a sensation so concerning they looked down to see their breastbone pulsing with every heartbeat. They put their hand over their chest, fingers splayed out protectively as they took deep breaths. "Good god, the last thing I need here is to die of a heart attack," they thought. What a terribly awkward situation for the crew to find their corpse in...

Ezra lingers just before the threshold, decidedly hesitating at the very last moment - as if it had only just occurred to them that after going through the whole crew roster and finding that everyone was either too busy or "too busy" to assist, perhaps this, too, would be a nonstarter. Not too late to turn back, maybe it would be better to continue practicing from afar, or from inside their head after all. Here was an interesting character, one they didn't quite know how exactly to approach, to interact with... They were in their head running through all the possible ways to broach the subject to him...

"Fuck it, I've come this far..." They think, resolved; ain't no way past the awkwardness but through it, right? They reach out to the door handle and the door slides into the wall with the sound of rushing air, they cross the threshold into his quarters with all the gingerness of someone waiting for a fright to jump out at them. "Heyy... Jones... I was just wondering... I've hit a bit of a slump in my art progress and, well, I was looking to do some practice, do you have some time to uhm, be a figure model for me? You're an athletic type, right? Think you could hold still in a pose for 5 minutes?" After the nervous babble, they stand stiff and still with sketchbook clutched in front of them, a protracted grin on their face as they wait for the man to respond...

-@navtechnicianez // hiiiii 😁 hope it's cool to just drop in hehe. feel free to dm for any questions or concerns....

The man was weaving left and right, left and right, circling around the dull, dark red punching bag, punching and kicking that oversized pill. The wraps hugged his wrist and entire hand, his shorts showed the reddened skin on his shins. He didn't even wear a shirt, that cocky bastard.

At the last strike, he was approached by soneone: A coworker of his. He figured it would have been his boss trying to get him to help out with work, but it was instead Ezra, ever the artsy one with jet black hair, which looked like they got blown up by a contraption they invented on their I.D picture. Quite funny.

"Be your model? Well, I've had everyone tell me I could be one, but I always wanted to get something more... Active." He then approached them, towering over them. "Sure, I'll bite. What's in it for me?"

// Ooooh, I've seen your page before. Hey! Never thought I'd get a new ask 👀

[navtechnicianez]

"Ah, that's great," Ezra said, eyes fluttering between the page and the subject, but at this point they were much more focused on the drawing before them, on making the lines feel dynamic and alive as the man standing there. At least ten minutes had now passed since the deal they had made, and it gave them some space between the anxiety and their current task. They were already in far too deep to not get some damn gesture practice out of the situation. The quality of their drawing improved for it - so long as they avoided any memory of the immediate past or prediction of the near future that caused their heart to palpitate with anticipatory fright.

The pose conveyed a solidness - heavy, but not clunky or clumsy, firmly planted on the floor with a certain gracile flourish, as if Jones were frozen in the middle of some great sweeping, precise and deliberate motion. Isn't that what martial arts are anyways? A series of graceful, sweeping, deliberate and forceful motions.

A few final strokes and the figure was done, as done as it could be without getting lost in the details. That train of thought, however, had led Ez back to the initial observation and musing they had when they walked in. "Thanks, Jones. I think I'm almost done here..." At that, some trepidation crossed their face, though it was hid behind a nervous smile. "I, uh, I do have a request though. It seemed like you were practicing kicks before I came in. Do you think you'd be able to show me the proper form of one and hold that pose while I draw it...?"

Ezra lingers just before the threshold, decidedly hesitating at the very last moment - as if it had only just occurred to them that after going through the whole crew roster and finding that everyone was either too busy or "too busy" to assist, perhaps this, too, would be a nonstarter. Not too late to turn back, maybe it would be better to continue practicing from afar, or from inside their head after all. Here was an interesting character, one they didn't quite know how exactly to approach, to interact with... They were in their head running through all the possible ways to broach the subject to him...

"Fuck it, I've come this far..." They think, resolved; ain't no way past the awkwardness but through it, right? They reach out to the door handle and the door slides into the wall with the sound of rushing air, they cross the threshold into his quarters with all the gingerness of someone waiting for a fright to jump out at them. "Heyy... Jones... I was just wondering... I've hit a bit of a slump in my art progress and, well, I was looking to do some practice, do you have some time to uhm, be a figure model for me? You're an athletic type, right? Think you could hold still in a pose for 5 minutes?" After the nervous babble, they stand stiff and still with sketchbook clutched in front of them, a protracted grin on their face as they wait for the man to respond...

-@navtechnicianez // hiiiii 😁 hope it's cool to just drop in hehe. feel free to dm for any questions or concerns....

The man was weaving left and right, left and right, circling around the dull, dark red punching bag, punching and kicking that oversized pill. The wraps hugged his wrist and entire hand, his shorts showed the reddened skin on his shins. He didn't even wear a shirt, that cocky bastard.

At the last strike, he was approached by soneone: A coworker of his. He figured it would have been his boss trying to get him to help out with work, but it was instead Ezra, ever the artsy one with jet black hair, which looked like they got blown up by a contraption they invented on their I.D picture. Quite funny.

"Be your model? Well, I've had everyone tell me I could be one, but I always wanted to get something more... Active." He then approached them, towering over them. "Sure, I'll bite. What's in it for me?"

// Ooooh, I've seen your page before. Hey! Never thought I'd get a new ask 👀

[navtechnicianez]

"Oh! Okay, full nude then!" The smile was wide but the eyes were begging for mercy; a horrid balance between looking surprised, but not wanting to look too surprised or bashful. "What in sweet Jesus' name have you just gotten yourself into, Ezra?!" They questioned to themselves silently. They wanted to flee, but imagined what story he would bring to the other crewmates. Ezra asked to see me nude so she could "draw me" and then ran away! Perhaps they ought to flee out the airlock then. Goodbye world!

Jones' implication was without any doubt. "This is the point where you back out and apologize," they thought as they pulled out the desk chair and sat down, lacking in the conviction needed to make a fool of themself. Too little, too late; already a fool, you're already here, might as well get some practice done. With face burning, they flipped the sketchbook open to an empty page and started. To his credit, he had a fine physique. Line of action, c-curves and s-curves, straight lines, conviction... They tried to focus on the art, but were too caught up in the image of themself showing off their own "bare beauty", the "curves of their hips."

But maybe it wouldn't be so bad. Seemed only fair when they thought about it, since they'd now seen him nude, like some kind of strange nudity pact. And it wasn't like he exactly said anything more than that, they tried to reason with themself as they sketched. By the time 5 minutes was up, they went through several attempts at capturing his form and all of them looked, quite frankly, like shit. "Uhhh, thank you Jones, that should be good. N-next pose..?"

Ezra lingers just before the threshold, decidedly hesitating at the very last moment - as if it had only just occurred to them that after going through the whole crew roster and finding that everyone was either too busy or "too busy" to assist, perhaps this, too, would be a nonstarter. Not too late to turn back, maybe it would be better to continue practicing from afar, or from inside their head after all. Here was an interesting character, one they didn't quite know how exactly to approach, to interact with... They were in their head running through all the possible ways to broach the subject to him...

"Fuck it, I've come this far..." They think, resolved; ain't no way past the awkwardness but through it, right? They reach out to the door handle and the door slides into the wall with the sound of rushing air, they cross the threshold into his quarters with all the gingerness of someone waiting for a fright to jump out at them. "Heyy... Jones... I was just wondering... I've hit a bit of a slump in my art progress and, well, I was looking to do some practice, do you have some time to uhm, be a figure model for me? You're an athletic type, right? Think you could hold still in a pose for 5 minutes?" After the nervous babble, they stand stiff and still with sketchbook clutched in front of them, a protracted grin on their face as they wait for the man to respond...

-@navtechnicianez // hiiiii 😁 hope it's cool to just drop in hehe. feel free to dm for any questions or concerns....

The man was weaving left and right, left and right, circling around the dull, dark red punching bag, punching and kicking that oversized pill. The wraps hugged his wrist and entire hand, his shorts showed the reddened skin on his shins. He didn't even wear a shirt, that cocky bastard.

At the last strike, he was approached by soneone: A coworker of his. He figured it would have been his boss trying to get him to help out with work, but it was instead Ezra, ever the artsy one with jet black hair, which looked like they got blown up by a contraption they invented on their I.D picture. Quite funny.

"Be your model? Well, I've had everyone tell me I could be one, but I always wanted to get something more... Active." He then approached them, towering over them. "Sure, I'll bite. What's in it for me?"

// Ooooh, I've seen your page before. Hey! Never thought I'd get a new ask 👀

[navtechnicianez]

Ez held up the sketchbook and soft graphite pencil in their hands. "Hah, painting's a bit much, I wouldn't say it's a magnum opus, more like some gesture practice. I'm basically trying to capture the motion and energy of the model - that's you - in a short period of time, without focusing too much on the details."

"Essentially what you have to do is strike a pose and hold it for say, 5 minutes while I draw you, and then you move on to a different pose and I draw you, rinse and repeat... I'm sure as a martial artist you have a wealth of interesting poses to draw from..."

They averted their eyes as they continued, feeling nervous. "Um, if you know what a figure drawing class looks like, typically the model is nude... but don't worry, I wouldn't expect that from you at all, it's not absolutely necessary," they hesitated as they spoke, immediately regretting mentioning it at all, especially now that their brain processed the full extent of what Jones had just said, and the way his eyes had raked up and down their figure; they hurried to clarify. "Uh- uhm, sorry but, rock my world...?? Wh-what does that entail exactly?" They weren't sure what he could do within the few minutes he was asking in return, but the connotations of that phrase were obvious in their head...

Ezra lingers just before the threshold, decidedly hesitating at the very last moment - as if it had only just occurred to them that after going through the whole crew roster and finding that everyone was either too busy or "too busy" to assist, perhaps this, too, would be a nonstarter. Not too late to turn back, maybe it would be better to continue practicing from afar, or from inside their head after all. Here was an interesting character, one they didn't quite know how exactly to approach, to interact with... They were in their head running through all the possible ways to broach the subject to him...

"Fuck it, I've come this far..." They think, resolved; ain't no way past the awkwardness but through it, right? They reach out to the door handle and the door slides into the wall with the sound of rushing air, they cross the threshold into his quarters with all the gingerness of someone waiting for a fright to jump out at them. "Heyy... Jones... I was just wondering... I've hit a bit of a slump in my art progress and, well, I was looking to do some practice, do you have some time to uhm, be a figure model for me? You're an athletic type, right? Think you could hold still in a pose for 5 minutes?" After the nervous babble, they stand stiff and still with sketchbook clutched in front of them, a protracted grin on their face as they wait for the man to respond...

-@navtechnicianez // hiiiii 😁 hope it's cool to just drop in hehe. feel free to dm for any questions or concerns....

The man was weaving left and right, left and right, circling around the dull, dark red punching bag, punching and kicking that oversized pill. The wraps hugged his wrist and entire hand, his shorts showed the reddened skin on his shins. He didn't even wear a shirt, that cocky bastard.

At the last strike, he was approached by soneone: A coworker of his. He figured it would have been his boss trying to get him to help out with work, but it was instead Ezra, ever the artsy one with jet black hair, which looked like they got blown up by a contraption they invented on their I.D picture. Quite funny.

"Be your model? Well, I've had everyone tell me I could be one, but I always wanted to get something more... Active." He then approached them, towering over them. "Sure, I'll bite. What's in it for me?"

// Ooooh, I've seen your page before. Hey! Never thought I'd get a new ask 👀

[navtechnicianez]

For a second, they took in the room, the equipment and the man within; a sheen of sweat over his tall, fit and muscular frame, yes, he would make a good subject for sure... The red marks on his shins called forth the image of a full force kick, frozen in time just before contact is made - could he hold that pose with the same energy and dynamism for an extended period of time...?

Ez's head tilted up as he approached, that they were looking up at him. His presence was somewhat imposing, and though his expression was affable, there was a strangeness in his eyes that suggested, maybe he had a screw a little bit loose. "But who doesn't on this ship?" they thought, an effort to calm their nerves. "I know I certainly don't have the soundest mind on board."

"...In it for you...?" Their expression morphed just a fraction, a slight fretful pinch about their features. "Shit, I hadn't thought that far," they thought, racing to come up with something. Not entirely gracefully, they pivoted: "Well- well, this shouldn't take more than 30, maybe 40 minutes at most. What do you think is worth your time?" They offered up; name your price, Jones!

Ezra lingers just before the threshold, decidedly hesitating at the very last moment - as if it had only just occurred to them that after going through the whole crew roster and finding that everyone was either too busy or "too busy" to assist, perhaps this, too, would be a nonstarter. Not too late to turn back, maybe it would be better to continue practicing from afar, or from inside their head after all. Here was an interesting character, one they didn't quite know how exactly to approach, to interact with... They were in their head running through all the possible ways to broach the subject to him...

"Fuck it, I've come this far..." They think, resolved; ain't no way past the awkwardness but through it, right? They reach out to the door handle and the door slides into the wall with the sound of rushing air, they cross the threshold into his quarters with all the gingerness of someone waiting for a fright to jump out at them. "Heyy... Jones... I was just wondering... I've hit a bit of a slump in my art progress and, well, I was looking to do some practice, do you have some time to uhm, be a figure model for me? You're an athletic type, right? Think you could hold still in a pose for 5 minutes?" After the nervous babble, they stand stiff and still with sketchbook clutched in front of them, a protracted grin on their face as they wait for the man to respond...

-@navtechnicianez // hiiiii 😁 hope it's cool to just drop in hehe. feel free to dm for any questions or concerns....

The man was weaving left and right, left and right, circling around the dull, dark red punching bag, punching and kicking that oversized pill. The wraps hugged his wrist and entire hand, his shorts showed the reddened skin on his shins. He didn't even wear a shirt, that cocky bastard.

At the last strike, he was approached by soneone: A coworker of his. He figured it would have been his boss trying to get him to help out with work, but it was instead Ezra, ever the artsy one with jet black hair, which looked like they got blown up by a contraption they invented on their I.D picture. Quite funny.

"Be your model? Well, I've had everyone tell me I could be one, but I always wanted to get something more... Active." He then approached them, towering over them. "Sure, I'll bite. What's in it for me?"

// Ooooh, I've seen your page before. Hey! Never thought I'd get a new ask 👀

[navtechnicianez]

//ARE YOU GUYS SEEING THIS???? WHO IS THAT

THANKS TO THE WONDERFUL @yimpysdiner

[navtechnicianez]

"The extra mile, huh? ...Sure, we'll say it's that, nothing to do with Swansea's teaching style or anything..." Ez says humourously, a wry smile twisting their mouth, some attempt to diffuse the tension building within them as they watch Jimmy's hand smooth over the pages before them. With his weight relaxed, they could feel every breath of his as it expands into their frame and deflates away from them. There's a soft warmth gathering in the places where his body makes contact with theirs. Through it all, they remain impossibly still. They swallow thickly. "Um... besides, this is all stuff he never would have really had to touch before, he said so himself. The flight console's the kind of thing that's supposed to get serviced every time a ship is docked, not every month while she's cruising..."

"In that, you can really tell the Tulpar's coming to the end of her operational lifespan." The corner of their mouth twitches, almost a smirk, and they reach their own hand out to brush over the yellowed edges of the manual. "I mean, they've loaded her up with 150 percent of her normal crew capacity, and us two extras are both mechanical staff." With their hand next to his, the size disparity is more obvious than they had ever considered; his hand is so much larger in comparison. The vision of it enveloping theirs has their heart doing a flip. "S-so, uh, all in all, I think she's far more likely to rattle a hole through her own walls. If Daisuke doesn't get to it first..."

Truthfully, Ezra is afraid to draw attention to or question this whole situation either way. Jimmy can be a personal space invader, sure but this - all wrapped around them, with his fingertips twitching over the fabric of their uniform, voice soft and his breath brushing against their ear and cheek - is outright touchy-feely, something they had never seen from him. It terrifies as much as it thrills them. Sure, they had made their affections known, and while they didn't blow the relationship up, nothing had exactly come of it so far. They certainly weren't one to act on any bold assumptions, not even in a situation that, at a glance, was as screamingly obvious as this. So after their deluge of nervous babble, in the beat of silence that fills the room, they pull away; just enough that they can turn and search the man's face, a silent plea for an answer, a reason for such closeness, a nervous half-smile on their lips as a half-baked attempt to soften the outpouring of intensity in their eyes.

He didn't know how long he'd been standing there, darkening the doorway to utility, eyes fixated on the back of the other's head. His fingers were periodically squeezing into his palms, trying to get himself to act, do anything other than stand and pretend to be the door itself. It was like he was fighting with himself, he came all the way here but upon actually seeing her his feet planted themselves.

Finally, he tentatively stepped forward, boots surprisingly lightly making contact with the ground as if he wanted to make his presence known when he decided it. When he was finally close enough, his arms were quick to wrap around Ez's comparatively smaller frame, chest pressing into whatever he could reach. He was leaned over them, eyeing the dusty old manuals Tulpar had on her for god knows how long.

"Still lookin' at those?" He murmured, hands gripping her jumpsuit lightly, a silent plea for attention.

Ez was completely engrossed in the text before her, but very nearly at her end - eyes dry and weary in the light of the desk lamp, a headache budding behind her forehead, a hunger in her stomach that was starting to nag - when the intruder came and enclosed her in their grasp. Jolting up stock straight with a small exclamation of shock, her hands drop the pencil she was holding and go up, theoretically, to fight or protect her face, but she freezes with outstretched palms as her heart races. Then comes Jimmy's familiar voice.

"Jesus!" She breathes, as her palm goes to cover her chest where her heart was thudding beneath her ribcage. "You scared the shit outta me!" Her body slumps as she breathes deeply, exhaling as the adrenaline works its way through her system.

The initial fright is washed away by a new niggling tension in her belly that does nothing to calm her pulse; she knows from the voice that it was Jimmy who startled her, but looking down at the arms wrapped around her and the hands that grasp at her uniform really cements in a terrifying way, oh God, it's Jimmy, what is this, why-

She turns her head to look up into his jawline, the beard scruff, the pearly light discontinuation in the line of his lips, fringes of brown hair, gleaming eyes beneath straight eyelashes. She follows the line of his gaze down to the manuals before her, diagrams and blocks of text, still catching her breath, or still breathing heavy from the new proximity... "Yeah," she sighs, "seems like these systems have gotten a lot more streamlined since this ship was built. But I'm getting there. The standard maintenance has been going well, just want to learn these systems much more intimately in case something catastrophic breaks," she flicks her eyes back up to the man's face hovering above her shoulder, feeling nervous, with heat on the edges of her ears. "...So, um, w-what's up? Did you need something, Jim?"

[navtechnicianez]

"Can I be honest for a second...?"

"I've been dreaming of eating vegetables. Fresh green vegetables. This packaged reconstituted nutritionally-complete shit they have onboard is evil."

[navtechnicianez]

// do ppl even know that my original posts are invitations to rp.... or are people just like, meh

[navtechnicianez]

He didn't know how long he'd been standing there, darkening the doorway to utility, eyes fixated on the back of the other's head. His fingers were periodically squeezing into his palms, trying to get himself to act, do anything other than stand and pretend to be the door itself. It was like he was fighting with himself, he came all the way here but upon actually seeing her his feet planted themselves.

Finally, he tentatively stepped forward, boots surprisingly lightly making contact with the ground as if he wanted to make his presence known when he decided it. When he was finally close enough, his arms were quick to wrap around Ez's comparatively smaller frame, chest pressing into whatever he could reach. He was leaned over them, eyeing the dusty old manuals Tulpar had on her for god knows how long.

"Still lookin' at those?" He murmured, hands gripping her jumpsuit lightly, a silent plea for attention.

Ez was completely engrossed in the text before her, but very nearly at her end - eyes dry and weary in the light of the desk lamp, a headache budding behind her forehead, a hunger in her stomach that was starting to nag - when the intruder came and enclosed her in their grasp. Jolting up stock straight with a small exclamation of shock, her hands drop the pencil she was holding and go up, theoretically, to fight or protect her face, but she freezes with outstretched palms as her heart races. Then comes Jimmy's familiar voice.

"Jesus!" She breathes, as her palm goes to cover her chest where her heart was thudding beneath her ribcage. "You scared the shit outta me!" Her body slumps as she breathes deeply, exhaling as the adrenaline works its way through her system.

The initial fright is washed away by a new niggling tension in her belly that does nothing to calm her pulse; she knows from the voice that it was Jimmy who startled her, but looking down at the arms wrapped around her and the hands that grasp at her uniform really cements in a terrifying way, oh God, it's Jimmy, what is this, why-

She turns her head to look up into his jawline, the beard scruff, the pearly light discontinuation in the line of his lips, fringes of brown hair, gleaming eyes beneath straight eyelashes. She follows the line of his gaze down to the manuals before her, diagrams and blocks of text, still catching her breath, or still breathing heavy from the new proximity... "Yeah," she sighs, "seems like these systems have gotten a lot more streamlined since this ship was built. But I'm getting there. The standard maintenance has been going well, just want to learn these systems much more intimately in case something catastrophic breaks," she flicks her eyes back up to the man's face hovering above her shoulder, feeling nervous, with heat on the edges of her ears. "...So, um, w-what's up? Did you need something, Jim?"

[navtechnicianez]

Ez catches her bottom lip between her teeth as he talks, eyes alight with glee at his expression, then laughs outright. "At least I admit it! Trust me, I work down in Utility with those two sad pancake asses, I know a fatty when I see one," she giggles, a teasing, mischievous grin on her lips. "It's okay to own it, Jim! You worked hard for that thang!"

did you get a bbl??

"Not that I know of. I wish I had that kind of money to blow."

[navtechnicianez]

"I've seen his workout routine! Jimmy's dumptruck is allllllll natural!~" Ez snickers from across the room.

did you get a bbl??

"Not that I know of. I wish I had that kind of money to blow."

[navtechnicianez]

Only a slight twinge of the eyes and a quirk of the brow belied the offense that flashed through Ez. 'Lord knows I could use it?! What the hell does that mean?'

Still... Surely it couldn't hurt to hear these hints, however dubious Ez felt about Dolly's advice. They couldn't seem to make heads or tails of Jimmy, of how to get closer to him. Of course, it was always up to them whether to enact the advice or not. Hah, maybe they ought to present themself as Jimmy's surrogate sister or something and go from there...

Face turned, they peer at Dolly from the corners of their eyes, flash a closed-lipped smile. "Of course, my lips are sealed. I'm listening..." Not as if they ever had any intention of dropping a bomb like that on the rest of the crew anyways. Perhaps there was some valuable information to be gained here...

“Woudn’t Ezra Zare be a fun name? They’re anagrams.”

“N-Not that I’ve been thinking about it or anything…”

[navtechnicianez]

What do you do during your spare time on the ship? Do you ever spend time with the other crew members? Have you ever joined in on Game Night?

“Ahh, you know, at first it was hard for me to join in, I felt like, uhm, I was intruding. Like, a wedge driving myself in where I didn’t belong, wasn’t invited. So often I would sit and watch and try to feel okay about it. But now I join in. It was actually Anya who waved me over the first time…” They look away, seeming pensive.

“Other than that though, I’ve been enjoying sketching. I like sketching people most of all, and there are quite a few interesting subjects on board! I’ve also been working on environment sketches. Really capturing the atmosphere of the ship, you know? I also like reading. The ship has a small library but I brought a few of my own books, too. I’m working through Crime and Punishment right now.”

They hesitate, as if wondering if they should continue. “…I don’t usually like to bother people. Routines are pretty tight, it’s kind of a necessity to keep sane in this place, you know? If someone comes to me to spend time with me though, I’ll oblige. Usually it’s Daisuke.”

[navtechnicianez]

Ez’s face twists up, not quite disgust, more like dismay. “Dad? Errr, no.” There’s a hair thin shift in their face, though, as the thought crosses their mind: ‘not the exact title I was thinking, but…’

“Hey, listen, though. I believe that he’s like a dad to you, I really do,” they concede, expression widening as they hold up their open palms. “It’s just that it also totally looks like theres definitely something weird going on, too…” They add, voice lowered as their eyes flick away to the floor beside them.

“Though hey, who’s judging? I’m not judging. I’m a weirdo, I’ll admit it. Nobody’s judging here, right?” It was part question, part suggestion.

“Woudn’t Ezra Zare be a fun name? They’re anagrams.”

“N-Not that I’ve been thinking about it or anything…”

[navtechnicianez]

“D-Don’t give me that look, Dolly, when you’ve got it bad for the Captain and you’re over there jerkin’ him around.”

Ez crosses their arms, an obvious flush on their face. Very clearly embarrassed at being read. “Giving him those eyes in the same conversation you guys play house.”

“Woudn’t Ezra Zare be a fun name? They’re anagrams.”

“N-Not that I’ve been thinking about it or anything…”