quino-thecaptain-blog

[quino-thecaptain-blog]

 JOAQUÍN “QUINO” ACOSTA - MASQUERADE COSTUME

“If everybody minded their own business, the world would go around a great deal faster than it does.” ― Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland

[quino-thecaptain-blog]

fxmxxn‌:

Being a con-artist for most of their life, Fox had never gotten into the habit of forming close attachments to anyone- not lasting ones anyway (Nila excluded, of course). But despite all their best efforts, it had been different ever since they’d stepped onto the Erebus… really since the moment they’d first approached Quino in that bar, what felt like light-years away by now. They thought it was kind of funny that they found themself in a similar place tonight… although now it seemed Quino was the one in need of rescuing, from some awful memories and ghosts that had a tendency to chase. Fox had followed him, out of some feeling softer than they meant for it to be, something they might call concern if they were capable of admitting such a thing out loud. For now, they didn’t think about it too hard.

When they found him though, the captain seemed to be doing alright, if his handsy exchange with the dancer was any indication. Then again, Fox thought that might have more to do with the whiskey than anything. They understood the concept of trying to escape from it all for a while, it was a method they were all too familiar with. That didn’t mean they wouldn’t invite themself along, though, if only to secretly keep an eye on Quino. But they weren’t about to baby him with pretty, soft words either. They clutched their hand to their chest in mock offense, going so far as to gasp slightly. “I thought I could always come talk to you, Cap. What if I really do have something important to say?”

They kept the facade up for all of a few seconds, if only to flex their muscles a little before relaxing into an expression that was easier, and maybe a little playful. They unceremoniously plopped down onto the couch next to him without being invited, heaving a small sigh. “Is that any way to treat somebody who just wants to keep you company?” Fox teased. And then, taking in the eyeful seated in Quino’s lap, they grinned. “Although, you seem to have found plenty of that already…”

Quino stopped paying attention to the dancer for a long, silent moment as he debated his next words. It took him longer than necessary to gather his thoughts, the alcohol making him feel slow and warm, but eventually sighed in defeat. He had a duty, no matter what. To his crew. And despite Fox’s usual flippant attitude, if they had something important to say, he had to listen to them. God knows their dear con artist was a specialist at hiding what they felt and Quino couldn’t have another disaster, another mission gone wrong. Not now. He was too tired for that. “You can,” he said with a confused frown. Softly, almost imperceptible under the loud music. It was probably all in his head but he sounded so foreign, so small. Words he didn’t enjoy being associated with. 

But of course, Fox was just fucking around and before Quino could dismiss the dancer and ask what was really going on, the bastard flexed, grinned and sat down beside him. If he could’ve burned them on the spot with his eyes alone, he would’ve. Luckily, his hands were busy following the dancer’s movements so he didn’t reach out and punch Fox in the face. “I got plenty of company right here, yes,” he huffed petulantly, leaning back against the couch, releasing his hold on the man on his lap and turning to Fox. 

“What brings you here, then? I’m guessing it’s not my delightful company you’re looking for, so what is it? Looking for a lap dance, too? Something for Nila?” Quino asked them curiously. It was very strange to run into one of his crew here. The moon wasn’t exactly big, but there were plenty of better clubs than this. Either Fox followed him or the world really hated him right now.  

[quino-thecaptain-blog]

Fui a nacer donde no hay nada tras esa linea que separa el bien del mal Mi tierra se llama miseria y no conozco la palabra libertad fui secuestrado en una guerra torturado y preparado pa matar me han convertido en una bestia soy solo un niño que no tiene identidad

[quino-thecaptain-blog]

dantekinnear‌:

So people did smoke on the ship – contrary to what the one-handed android had told them. That, at least, was good news. He took the offered cigarette, letting the captain light it for him, and leaned back for a moment as he took a drag, the welcome rush of nicotine he’d been craving literally since he got on this damn rust bucket. Milkshake or no milkshake, this was the single best thing that was going to happen to him today, he knew that damn well.

     “Look, if you wanted a doc that’s a drunk, you probably picked the only one on Hemera that didn’t meet that criteria,” he countered, following Quino out of the medbay. His stomach was rumbling, a little, just having heard the word milkshake, and frankly he didn’t care about it tasting like strawberries as much as he cared about it being bright fuckin pink. No better pick me up than food in any color food was not supposed to be.

     Quino lit up Dante’s cigarette and for the first time in a while, genuinely smiled at the man. A fellow smoker, then. It still surprised him he didn’t drink like the rest of them but to each their own. He was, after all, quite right. Having a drunk for a doctor wasn’t the best idea and apparently, they had gotten lucky enough to pick the only sober one in that shithole of a planet. “Keep it up, doc. Don’t let the rest of the assholes here poison your resolve,” he snorted and squeezed the man’s shoulder as he walked pass him and out of the room. 

     The kitchen was dark and quiet, everyone probably sleeping or mourning in their own rooms and avoiding social interaction. He couldn’t blame them. If it wasn’t for Rye losing their shit and Dante finding him in the medbay, he would’ve preferred solitude as well. Still, the company wasn’t unwelcome. “Go ahead. There’s food and drinks. You’re part of the crew now, so you’ll have to work to earn your share but for now, just take whatever you need. You’ve earned it,” Quino said as he took another drag of his cigarette before kneeling down on the floor, reaching into a cabinet and pulling out an almost full bottle of whiskey. 

     With the bottle on one hand and the cigarette in the other, Quino sat down by the table with a groan. He was tired, his body aching, and they still had a lot of things to deal with in the morning but for now, this would have to do. “I prepared a room for you, by the way. Didn’t want to touch your stuff but there you have it. Bathroom’s communal, there’s a set of rules I’ll send your way in the morning and any concerns are settled directly with me. Welcome to the Erebus, Doc. Hope you have an enjoyable stay.” 

[quino-thecaptain-blog]

                             TASK 002 - PERSONAL EFFECTS

Money - Technology was good and all but there was always someone who could freeze his accounts, hack his information, figure out who was taking what and where. It might not be something personal, but Quino isn’t a very sentimental man and having cash in his hand is as cold as it gets. It’s a ticket out of there, in case shit go south. 

Old Jacket - One of the few things he took from home. He remembered his mother crying over his father’s old jacket - worn and dirty and thin from use - but it was the only thing he had left of him. Of them. A reminder that he had a family once, a home, someone who cared about him and wanted him to feel warm when it was cold. 

Journals - Quino writes often. Not his logs or ship entries, but personal stuff. Fear, pain, dreams, hopes. He writes them down, sketches when he’s on his own. Its calming and a good reminder of what he has been through. 

Pistol - His oldest and best one. Quino’s a snob for good guns and he’ll often be found drooling some new piece of modify his trusted gun. It might be paranoid of him, but he never leaves the ship without it. Some say he sleeps with it under his pillow, but he hasn’t confirmed nor denied it. 

Old backpack - Another one of the things he stole from home. It was the bag he filled with the few things he owned the day he ran away from home, and he keeps it filled and ready under his bed even today in case he needs to run again. It was lost for a while when he went to prison, but he managed to get it back. 

Cigarettes stash - A large, hidden stash of cigarettes Quino keeps in a hidden door in his room. He loves his crew, but tobacco is expensive and with how much he smokes and how long they spend between stops, he’s not a big fan of sharing. Replenishing it when it gets too low is always a pain in his ass. 

Lighter - A birthday gift. The only one he has ever received. Anubis got him the lighter the year he was made second in command and Quino has kept it with him ever since. He still uses it nowadays as a reminder of what his goal is.  

Polaroid pictures - A collection of pictures he stole from a fancy gallery in one of his missions. The theme of the exhibition was hard work and farming in the colonies, and of course, most pictures were of Demeter. He keeps them close and looks at them often. At times, he swears the people in the pictures look more and more familiar to his family. 

[quino-thecaptain-blog]

Brown

* Brown * my muse is hurt and discouraged

     Of all the people who could find him like this, Noa was probably one of the few he didn’t mind. It was a little pathetic; bloody nose, swollen, purple cheek just getting darker and uglier and he didn’t even want to see the rest of his body. Rye was a great fighter, a spectacular one, and Quino was a very stubborn man who loved testing his limits and trying to best them during sparing sessions. 

     Needless to say, he rarely won. And when he did, he cheated. 

     That’s how he found himself sitting in the kitchen late one evening, most of the Erebus particularly quiet which might mean trouble but he didn’t care at all. He sat there, an ice pack pressed to his rapidly swelling nose and cheek and sighed when Noa walked in. “I don’t get it,” he sighed, leaning heavily on his seat. “That motherfucker’s too good. I know they fought for a living but come on, we’ve been working together for God knows how long. I should’ve learnt by now.” It was annoying, and most days he was a good match for Rye but today they seemed to be filled with renewed energy. 

     Or perhaps they were still pissed at what happened with Dante. Who knows?

     He got up with a groan, his whole body protesting the movement and walked back towards the end of the kitchen, lighting up a smoke and sitting down near the vents. He might be one giant bruise tomorrow, but he could still move enough to have a smoke in peace. “Come on in, dear. Want one? Don’t let my complaining ruin your meal, please. Though if you’re looking for ice, I suggest you try again later. You don’t want to know where I put the last bit.” 

[quino-thecaptain-blog]

noa-okamoto‌:

Location: Flight Deck

Time: Early Morning

Partner: @quino-thecaptain

Her eyes were burning this morning. Clutching a large mug of tea that she had let seep for far too long in her hands, she slowly shuffled onto the flight deck. A loud yawn escaped her as she walked over to her station, only vaguely recognizing another body in the room. Flipping on several panels, she paused to let the system boot up before switching over from autopilot.  Gingerly she sipped the steaming beverage, grimacing as the bitter taste hit her tongue. At least the taste made an attempt to startle her body awake. Finally turning to look at the other body in the room,  she recognized him at once, and couldn’t help but to stand a little straighter. It was her nature. “Captain.” Noa acknowledged him with a brief nod, turning back to settle into her chair. 

“Care to tell me why I had to be here quite this early on this oh so glorious day.” Her voice dripped with sarcasm. 

His mother always used to say that, when bad things came, they came all together. He thought it was stupid at the time, since their lives had been a string of bad moments chained together since he could remember. But now, older and not much wiser, he could see there was truth in there. When shit went down and everything was fucking awful, you might as well get through all the shit at once. Get waist high and dick yourself out of there, so to speak. No point in dwelling in shit for the rest of your days.

So that’s how he found himself in the flight deck waiting for Noa. She was a brilliant soldier and an even better pilot, which meant Quino trusted her to take him where he wanted to go. Well, not wanted, but needed. They were so close to Demeter, he might as well do a little fly by and see how much of a shithole it still was. Perhaps he could get a glimpse at his old house, though he feared what he might see if they got too close. 

Noa’s voice distracted him from his thoughts, turning to face her as he noticed the almost burnt out end of his cigarette. Had he really been standing there for so long? Nevermind. He needed to get his head back on task. “Have you ever been to Demeter, Ms. Okamoto? The earlier we get there, the better. I want to fly over some places I used to know before we return.”

[quino-thecaptain-blog]

Orange or Purple starter, your choice! ;)

Purple * my muse is aroused

     The walls of the Erebus felt too small, the air hard to breathe, the people too sad or expecting guidance he didn’t know how to give. The fact that Imogen was gone and they had come so close to his home wasn’t making things easier. Rye’s disappointed eyes, Dante’s smirk, Lux’s mourning eyes. It was too much, and Quino had to get out. 

     Despite Demeter being a planet Quino, and most people raised there, associated with hunger and hard work, one of its moons was its exact opposite. Opulent, loud with music, laughter and an a party that never seemed to stop. It was good. Exactly what he needed, and the deafening beat of the music did wonders to drown his rapidly changing thoughts. Lots of what if, lots of questions, of fears, of things he needed to do. 

     That’s how he ended up in one of the darkest, dirtiest clubs he could find. Leaning on the biggest couch money could buy, sipping on expensive whiskey while a man sat on his lap, grinding down slowly to the rhythm of the music. At the very least it was distracting, a serene smile playing on his lips as he hummed, content, relaxed for the first time in a very long time. 

     Though he blamed the almost empty bottle of whiskey for that. 

    But then he saw something from the corner of his eye. A familiar figure, and the thought of being found made him groan out loud, hand going for the man’s hip and face hiding in his neck for just a moment before the boy pulled back. “No touching, captain,” he warned with a flirty smile, pinning Quino’s hand back down on the couch. He continued dancing though and Quino closed his eyes, enjoying the body’s warmth until familiar footsteps approached his flank. 

     “Someone better be dead, Fox. Otherwise, I don’t wanna hear it,” he groaned and the man above him stopped for a moment - curious? worried? scared? - but quickly resumed his movements. This time, allowing Quino’s grip on his hip when he opened his eyes and turned to glare at Fox. “I’m kind of busy, as you can see.” 

[quino-thecaptain-blog]

thebrokentemplar‌:

* Silver * my muse is feeling honored or proud * White * my muse is being innocent or shy * Yellow * my muse is literally breathing charm * Gold * my muse is being euphoric * Orange * my muse is feeling warm / sweating * Red * my muse is being choleric * Pink * my muse is in love / romantic * Purple * my muse is aroused * Blue * my muse is feeling cold * Turquoise * my muse is icy and distant * Green * my muse is nauseous * Brown * my muse is hurt and discouraged * Black * My muse is mourning * Grey * my muse is being lethargic

Specify whether drabble or starter.

Advanced level (for the author): Putting the color or related things into the text.

Send me a color for your muse meeting mine while:

[quino-thecaptain-blog]

luxlev‌:

Lux flinched too at the captain’s comment, unprepared. But his worry wasn’t warranted in her opinion. “I don’t underestimate anyone,” she told him, eyes stone. “So don’t underestimate me. I haven’t once let you down yet and when I can’t do a job, I tell you.” Lux knew her limits and she took pride in that fact. But she had been weaving her way through coding for so many years that it was as if the digits were in her very bloodstream. 

She was quiet, thoughtful, as Quino revealed the bare bones of his past to her. Avernus – he was right, she had heard of it. No more than anyone else, likely, but enough to know what it was, what it dealt in. Without really even meaning to, Lux fished her datapad out and began making notes of what he told: Demeter, Avernus, Osirus & Anubis. Dionysus, 3009. (She would have just arrived at Alba’s at that point…) And, of course: Julian Steger. Once he finished, Lux took a moment to sip at her coffee, savor the burn and the flavor of it. “We’ll pretend I need you to grant me access,” she said, corner of her mouth curving into a smirk. “But yeah, I’ll need all that information.” 

Her fingers twitched over her pad as she considered what had just transpired. Quino had told her something that he obviously didn’t like sharing, that was obviously painful for him. “I…” Her throat clicked as she tried to forge forward. “I was an orphan on Dionysus. Or I was given up. Whatever, I ended up working at an escort house. At first it was just doing menial sort of work but then… Well.” She shrugged, letting him come to the conclusion himself. “When I ran, I left behind a wake of destruction.” She let a long pause stretch between them before explaining, “Now we both know about the other.” Quid pro quo and all that.

Quino’s eyes widened slightly at Lux’s words. He hadn’t meant to offend her, but apparently he had been quite proficient at sticking his foot in his mouth lately. Not long ago he had had the same type of conversation with Fox, their eyes becoming steel when Quino suggested they might not be up to the task. Bunch of proud criminals, his crew. “I don’t underestimate you, Lux. If I did, trust me, I wouldn’t be asking for your help,” he said, not wanting to fight the kid on what he meant or didn’t mean to say. Despite how much he hated being corrected like this, he was too tired to get into it. 

Luckily, Lux didn’t linger and Quino moved on with his story, anxiousness filling his chest every time the girl wrote something down. There were records now, of how he had opened his mouth after ten years. If he was lucky, Julian wouldn’t be looking out for him, wouldn’t be alerted of it after so many years. Or maybe he did, and Quino had just signed his death sentence. Either way, he didn’t exactly expect to leave that particular altercation alive. “You’re really annoying, you know? Gather all the information you need. Just... lie to me when I ask you if you haven’t read the rest of my private files. I’d like to have some manner of dignity,” he sighed. At least Nero had been kind enough to respect his privacy. Damn humans, always ruining everything. Machines were so superior. “By the way, Nero said he was willing to help you with this. Work with it. Them. Whatever, fuck if I know.” 

Lux managed to surprise him once more by sharing her story. Of course he had some idea of what his crew had gone through before he took them in - he wasn’t an idiot and he still had enough contact to do background checks -, but still the fact that she told him was surprising. Lux had always been one of the most difficult to read, to find information about. A mystery, that one. And now he knew something in return for his trust. It would’ve been very gratifying, if the situation around them wasn’t so exhausting. “Thank you for telling me,” he said and smiled in return, his hand squeezing hers for a moment before finally picking up his coffee and drinking the first sip. 

[quino-thecaptain-blog]

dantekinnear‌:

The touch on his shoulder, the look down at his lips – either the captain here had a very strong domination kink, or he was looking for a distraction from his grief. Either way, Dante wasn’t exactly going to say no to either one, though if he were being honest with himself he could’ve used a good shower first. 

     “I don’t drink anymore, or I’d take you up on that,” he replied, and for the first time in months he wanted to say fuck it and have a drink anyway.  The past few hours had turned his world upside-down, and as someone who had spent the past eight months trying very much to keep his world on an even-enough kilter not to fall back down completely, it was only a matter of time before it started getting to him. Right now, he was still too disoriented – with the ship, with the situation. He still hadn’t met half the crew. He hadn’t slept. He’d hardly eaten.

Maybe he needed a distraction as much as Quino did.

     “I’d take a milkshake though. Strawberry, preferably, but I’m not picky.”

He could almost hear Emeritus’ words in his head calling him a dumbass. A reckless dumbass. Anubis laughter too, telling him he was a softie. There were rules for a reason, something he had learned early on, so he shook his head and took a few more steps back, trying to clear his mind. 

Grief was a dangerous thing, and he had no time to deal with it. 

At Dante’s words, Quino raised an eyebrow in disbelief. Who would’ve thought the dirtiest person in his crew was a) the doctor and b) cleaner than any of them. It was so ridiculous it make him chuckle, but shrug anyway. “Suit yourself. We’re not all so limited,” he said as his hands reached quickly into his pockets, taking a cigarette - offering one to Dante in case he wanted to take it - and lighting it between his lips, the smoke filling his lungs calming and refreshing. This was, at least, a rule he didn’t feel guilty for breaking. The whole crew needed a break.

“Not sure we have strawberries, doc but you can try to make something up in the kitchen, if you want. A fucking milkshake, unbelievable,” Quino shrugged, opening the door to the medbay and waiting for Dante to follow him out. No point in staying there any longer. “I do have a bottle of booze stashed in the kitchen anyway, so we can just drink there.” 

[quino-thecaptain-blog]

luxlev‌:

She just nodded as Quino spoke, only absently aware of what he was saying, really. Stirring the healthy dose of whiskey he had added, she let the mug warm her hands a moment. It wasn’t long, though, before he moved on. And Lux found she was grateful. Maybe there was something rattling at her ribcage to talk about what was happening, how she was processing. But she didn’t want to. Didn’t want to cup her hands around that vulnerable, delicate part of her and expose it to Quino. To anyone, really.

She arched an eyebrow, interested, as he laid out the favor. Extremely dangerous didn’t sound great. Especially all that had happened in the past few days. “If I can do it at all, I can absolutely do it without him detecting me,” she said confidently. “I’d need everything you can possibly tell me about him, though,” she laid out, mind already pacing ahead. “I mean, everything.”

Finally, she lifted her mug and took a generous sip. The soothing heat of the coffee and the smooth burn of the whiskey… Her chest seared pleasantly for a split second from it. “I take it this is something more than just him owing you credits or something?” she asked, half-expecting her to fuck off with her questions.

“Don’t underestimate him, Lux. He’s got resources, hackers, the best of the best. You’re either absolutely certain he won’t notice or you don’t do it at all. I can’t have your blood on my hands, too,” Quino warned her urgently but his words were too much, too vulnerable, too telling. He visibly flinched at them, but continued on, bypassing his own coffee in favor of taking another big swig straight from the bottle. 

It took him a second to speak, preferring to remain silent and solemn for a while and avoid Lux’s eyes. Was he really about to tell her of his past? It wasn’t that big of a deal, really and still it made him nervous. With a deep breath and an even longer exhale, he wrapped his hands around his cup of coffee and started talking. “Oh, it’s definitely more than just a few credits,” he snorted, finally meeting her eyes. “Let’s bypass my whole sob story of a childhood but the thing is, I was born in Demeter and I needed money to eat, so I joined a gang. Avernus was its name. Still is, I guess. You’ve heard of it, everyone has. Anyway. I stayed with them for many years and eventually, moved up the ranks until I became second in command. Osiris.” 

And here it was. The moment of truth. Ten years keeping keeping the secret of the leader’s identity and he was about to break his silence for his own revenge. Em would be pissed when they figured out the first one to know Anubis’s name was Lux and not them. “Anubis, they call him. Our leader. But his name’s Julian Steger. We got involved in an altercation on Dionysus about ten years ago. Many died and some others fled but they managed to capture me to use me as bait for him. He, of course, grabbed his ship and the rest of the crew and left me to rot in a cell.” His tone was fiercer now, angrier, but his eyes closed like it almost pained him to get the next words out. “I can give you access to all my logs on him. All I’ve gathered, the gang’s last whereabouts, everything.” 

[quino-thecaptain-blog]

luxlev‌:

Lux offered an attempt at a smile when he rallied and lead her for the kitchen. When he pulled the secret whiskey out, she made a show of locking her lips. “Secret’s safe with me. Though I can’t promise I won’t take a nip from it now and then.” Her smile faded a bit as he went about setting the coffee up. “I guess this is that,” she said softly, “a special occasion.” One of their number was dead. It seemed a good enough reason to drink whiskey as any, at least.

Once Quino sat down, Lux had already gotten a mug for each of them and set them out. With the leveling tone in his voice, Lux knew they were about to aquare up. “I don’t know if it would make me feel better,” she said with a shrug. She had no frame of reference for this kind of thing. Did she want to talk about Imogen? Not particularly. Thinking too closely about the person who had been alive just days ago ached. “What kind of favor?” Lux asked, cocking her head. Keeping busy would be one thing to try, if nothing else.

“A nip’s fine. But if you finish it, you’ll be getting a new one to replace it,” Quino warned her, grabbing the bottle and taking a long swing. It warmed him from the inside out, making his fingers tingle pleasantly. For a moment he wondered when he had eaten for the last time but couldn’t remember. Breakfast, probably, but he’d been so busy checking on everyone that hunger had been an issue yet. A strange thing to say, specially for him. “It certainly is. Apparently we just drink to death or big bounties. A shame, really. Maybe we should make some new rules. Celebrate a few holidays.” 

It was empty talk, just something to keep the silence from becoming too much, too deafening, but it still brought comfort to him. He quietly thanked Lux for the coffee and poured a generous amount of whiskey into both of their cups, setting the bottle aside. “Figured it wouldn’t,” he shrugged and instead, entwined his fingers in front of him over the table, looking at Lux with a blank, almost too serious expression.

There was no backing out now. After his conversation with Nero, the possibility of finding Anubis had been clouding his thoughts. It was a risk, and he wasn’t a big fan of oversharing, but perhaps if the kids found him, he would finally be rid of the ghosts of his past. It was, at the very least, worth a shot. 

“There’s a man I want you to find, if you’re able. He used to be an old friend of mine and now I need to know his whereabouts. Thing is, he can’t know I’m tracking him. He’s very dangerous, Lux. Extremely so, and he’ll kill every single one of us if he knows we’re doing this. So if you and Nero can do it without being tracked, good. Otherwise, I’ll do it the conventional way. We can’t take any risks. Not with him. Is that something you can do?”

[quino-thecaptain-blog]

ryeclemons‌:

Quino was up and moving around, stretching like a horse put in a too small pen. It made Rye restless, like they wanted to make Quino stop and sit down, to be still. All too soon, Quino did still, but Rye wished that he had kept moving rather than turning all that restless energy on them. Rye studied the glimmer of the station approaching for a long moment,  pondering their answer.

“In all honesty? No. I’m not doing alright. Probably won’t be for a while. I-” Rye stopped, then finally looked over at their Captain. They changed tack. “Are you?”

He looked like he had woken up on the floor of a bar on the lowest levels of Hemera, paler than normal and a tell tale bruise on his neck. Rye’s eyes lingered on it, wondering where—no who— it came from. No other words were spoken by them, but there was still a question asked. Who gave that to Quino?

Well, at least he could count on Rye for honesty, Quino figured. Their words were simple, yet they held the gravity of a man grieving, feeling the pain of a loss. It was flattering, really, that someone as strong as Rye had chosen him to be honest with, to be vulnerable, and when the question was turned on him, Quino couldn’t help but visibly flinch. 

“Just peachy,” he bit back on instinct. A lie, a very obvious one, like a cornered animal showing its teeth while knowing he was trapped. But moment passed and the depth of the question finally settled. Not many people asked him how he was doing. He was the captain, responsible for the crew and the ship, it was his job to be strong, to be alright. But when it was just him and Rye... what was the point? 

A long, drawn out sigh made his body sag down heavily on his seat as he turned to meet Rye’s eyes. There was worry, surprise and then... something else? Yet the question was very clear by the way their eyes were glued to the damn bruise on his neck. Quino, for the first time in a long time, felt shame. And not in the ‘I did something stupid’ way, but different. Heavier. Making his heart beat uncomfortably loud in his ears. “Take your pick, you’re probably gonna be right,” he shrugged, fingers twitching for a smoke. 

[quino-thecaptain-blog]

luxlev‌:

The captain, of course. It wasn’t that Lux didn’t want to see him. More, she didn’t want him to see her like this. So obviously out of sorts. She didn’t want him (or anyone) to think of Lux as weak, or incapable. All it would take is one ounce of doubt and Lux could be on her ass. No place to live, no income, completely on her own once more. She didn’t want that. 

But Quino didn’t seem to determine that from her. At least not right then. Instead, he smiled, put his hands to her shoulders, offered her the comfort of a drink. She smiled back, though it likely didn’t reach her eyes, and nodded. The kindness almost made her want to cry. “I wouldn’t mind that,” she answered, and turned to head for the kitchen with him. “As long as we can put the whiskey in the coffee.” Lux wasn’t really one for alcohol, usually. She had some wine here and there, when the crew all drank together, but not much beyond that. These circumstances, though, seemed to warrant it.

She should ask if he was okay, she thought. Should say something about Imogen, or him being the captain or something. But she couldn’t find the proper words in her, so she said nothing.

There was a bit of nervousness in Lux’s eyes, a weariness that came from knowing that bad things came all at once, and Imogen’s death could just be the start of a shitstorm of bad news.  Not that Quino could blame her, of course. He was a bit on edge himself, looking around every corner making sure that no one else just dropped dead at his feet out of the blue. At least he found comfort in this; camaraderie, the knowledge that the rest of them were still standing and had to move forward. Imogen would’ve called them a bunch of idiots if they didn’t. 

“Of course we can. I have a decent bottle hidden in the kitchen, come on,” he smiled and walked beside the girl back to the kitchen. Once there, he kneeled down to one of the many cabinets and reached back behind the large bags of coffee they kept in store. There, hidden like treasure for a pirate, was a whiskey bottle Quino retrieved with a triumphant grin before turning to Lux. “Don’t tell anyone about this, alright? Those hyenas would down it in a day. I keep it for special occasions.” 

Coffee brewing and whiskey bottle put between them on the table, Quino finally sat down across from Lux. “Look, we don’t gotta talk about Imogen if you don’t want to. We can, if it makes you feel better, but otherwise I have a favor to ask of you. Something to keep you busy, I guess.”

[quino-thecaptain-blog]

dantekinnear‌:

The first time Dante had lost a patient on the table, he’d been high out of his mind, too out of it to know what was happening, to comprehend the situation. But every time since then, every person he’d failed to save had brought him further and further away from feelings like guilt. He still remembered if, of course, the bodies at his feet, people he couldn’t have done anything more for; but the longer he lived, the more there were, the easier it was to see when fault wasn’t a part of it. Imogen had been killed by whoever shot her, not whoever had failed to do the impossible and bring her back.

Anger, though, wasn’t a surprise. It wasn’t the first time he’d been half-choked by a grieving man, and he did his best to take it in kind, and took in a few sharp, ragged breaths to replenish his lungs as soon as the captain let go. What was a surprise was what followed, Quino crumbling in front of him, face pressed to his chest. He hesitated, for a moment, hands dropping to his sides from where they’d been scrambling for purchase to get his collar out fo Quino’s hands. 

     “It’s not your fault either, cap,” he said, letting out a breath. Comfort wasn’t his strong suit, but it seemed like the least he could do. 

Dante’s chest was comforting, in a way. A little boney for his taste, but his clothes smelled faintly of ash and warmth and that was more than enough for the few seconds Quino allowed himself to stay there. Loneliness was something he would never get rid of, and no temporary comfort could ever remedy that. The medic let go of his collar and Quino released him in return, hands finding something to hold on to on the mans’ shoulders. His grip was softer though, comforting perhaps, in the way he tried to comfort his crew even though Dante needed none of that. He stayed only a moment before finally straightening his back, not wanting to impose the man no further. He had been about to strangle him a second ago, so that seemed like the right choice. 

What did surprise him was the failed attempt of the man to comfort him. Him. Joaquín Acosta being comforted by some trashy raccoon he had found in the middle of some dirty alley. It made him snort but there was no real joy in his laugh, just a reaction to the words. “Yeah, I know,” he lied and shrugged, meeting the man’s eyes. There was no regret there, no shame, no guilt and Quino felt angry again. How he envied him right now, how he wanted to wipe that damn smirk off his face. He looked down at his lips, and back up. No. There were rules, and he wasn’t going to break them. 

“Well, I guess this is it, then,” Quino sighed, squeezing the man’s shoulder once more before releasing him and taking a step back. “Unless you want to come over for a drink, I think this is it for me. I’ll just go and pray no one does anything too stupid.” 

[quino-thecaptain-blog]

ryeclemons‌:

location: erebus pod #4 when: half hour away from CGB station in Sirius System who: @quino-thecaptain

Even though they had lost a member of the crew, life went on for the rest of them. Another system, another set of missions. Rye almost relished it, having a distraction from the tangled mess of emotions swirling around in their chest. Something else to concentrate on… it would be good. That’s what Rye was telling themselves when they loaded up on the pod for the trip to the space station. 

Now the navigational system showed them about thirty minutes from the station, and Rye’s tongue was caught in their throat. The entire ride here had been spent in silence, tense and heavy and Rye wasn’t sure where to start. But they had to start somewhere.

“What type of job are we looking for? Easy or big money?”

It was lucky that Rye decided to break the heavy silence that had settled between them because otherwise, Quino would’ve happily spent the rest of the way to the CGB station without making a sound. He had a terrible headache, a too obvious, too visible hickey high up on the side of his neck and the guilt of Imogen’s death still making his chest feel tight and heavy.

But the show must go on, and so did their missions, which is why he ended up in a too small pod with Rye; a prime mission partner, probably not a big fan of Quino’s last couple of decisions. At least bounty hunting couldn’t go that bad. “Something easy. I heard of a smuggler that needs to be arrested. Honestly, I just wanted to get off the fucking ship,” he shrugged, finally relaxing enough to stretch his legs and move a bit, turning to face Rye now that the ice was broken. 

“How are you doing? I know we haven’t talked much the last few days and with everything that happened.... You alright?”