Liam Kincaid (
firstofitskind) wrote in
fandomtownies2020-07-10 06:13 am
Entry tags:
Trooper Station, Friday
Liam had gathered from Tuesday's radio broadcast that things in Fandom were starting to get weird in a way that was going to end up more irritating than actually dangerous. Thus, he'd made the decision to pack up the mice (and his wife the currently-a-flying-squirrel) and decamp to Dominic's apartment on the mainland for the time being, minus short jaunts to the island for workshops and, well. Work.
The mice, naturally, had been thrilled for the opportunity to spend some time in the company of the Priest of Hard Choices In Dark Places when it wasn't a life-or-death situation. The aforementioned Priest was cycling through more than a few feelings on the matter, though for the most part seemed to vacillate between 'bemused' and 'resigned'. With a side of 'concerned' when presented at last with irrefutable proof that the non-mouse-shaped furry guest Liam had shown up with was, in fact, Verity and his claim a few weeks ago that 'Yeah, she's turned into a flying squirrel, it's a thing that happens sometimes' had not been an attempt at pulling his leg after all.
(Irrefutable proof courtesy of an episode of Dance or Die. Even without being able to speak English, she'd somehow still made it clear that she had Opinions regarding some of the dancers.)
The point was, he showed up for his shift at the Station that morning fully dressed, and thank god the place had a generator because it was hot enough that he would've been deeply, deeply uncomfortable otherwise- he wasn't really a walking-around-shirtless kind of guy for a lot of reasons (would the island let him stay fully clothed for the whole day? Only time would tell, naturally). As it was, he didn't want to strain the generator so while normally he might have had the AC absolutely blasting on a day like this, instead it was only 'mildly uncomfortable' within the confines of the Trooper Station. Where he had- huh.
Another personnel file on his desk.
"That figures," he muttered to himself with a snort as he started to flip through said file and realized just who it was about.
[ooc: open, barely-functional-AC and all!]
The mice, naturally, had been thrilled for the opportunity to spend some time in the company of the Priest of Hard Choices In Dark Places when it wasn't a life-or-death situation. The aforementioned Priest was cycling through more than a few feelings on the matter, though for the most part seemed to vacillate between 'bemused' and 'resigned'. With a side of 'concerned' when presented at last with irrefutable proof that the non-mouse-shaped furry guest Liam had shown up with was, in fact, Verity and his claim a few weeks ago that 'Yeah, she's turned into a flying squirrel, it's a thing that happens sometimes' had not been an attempt at pulling his leg after all.
(Irrefutable proof courtesy of an episode of Dance or Die. Even without being able to speak English, she'd somehow still made it clear that she had Opinions regarding some of the dancers.)
The point was, he showed up for his shift at the Station that morning fully dressed, and thank god the place had a generator because it was hot enough that he would've been deeply, deeply uncomfortable otherwise- he wasn't really a walking-around-shirtless kind of guy for a lot of reasons (would the island let him stay fully clothed for the whole day? Only time would tell, naturally). As it was, he didn't want to strain the generator so while normally he might have had the AC absolutely blasting on a day like this, instead it was only 'mildly uncomfortable' within the confines of the Trooper Station. Where he had- huh.
Another personnel file on his desk.
"That figures," he muttered to himself with a snort as he started to flip through said file and realized just who it was about.
[ooc: open, barely-functional-AC and all!]

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(Check back later in the Fall when he was in a puffy coat in late September.)
He poked his head into the office. "Detective Williams isn't here, right?"
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“He’s not,” Liam confirmed. “Wednesdays are the best day to catch him here.” Welcome to this particular aspect of (Fandom) island life, Steve! Literally nobody pulled a 40-hour work week around here.
Especially in the Station. Because the island saw an average of about one crime per year, not counting invasion-related shenanigans.
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With the spaceship?
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"The very same," he confirmed, clasping that offered hand after the briefest of hesitations.
... Hopefully Steve wasn't the type to think too loudly.
"Also yours now, it seems," he added, with a nod towards the file on his desk.
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"Yeah, we're not quite so... high profile, here," Liam acknowledged with a hint of a teasing grin. "Sorry."
Did the governor of Hawaii have a spaceship, though, Steve? DID THEY?
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"Danny mentioned he seemed to be stuck here," Steve said, "and also heavily implied that I needed to find employment while I was here, too." He nodded at the file. "Guess that's been settled."
Danny would be thrilled right until he was involved in a five-rickshaw collision.
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Liam. Liam. To anyone who'd never been off-planet before, it probably was impressive.
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“Oh, I don’t know, it’s worth checking out even if you’re not visiting anyone in particular,” he told him.
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Outside he just gave Liam a smile. "I would love to. Is it easy to fly? I'm already trained in small aircraft, helicopters, and a few boats."
You know, as the plot called for it.
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"I suppose that depends on if any of those use a gesture-based control system."
Like most other skills he possessed, shuttle piloting was something Liam had been born knowing how to do, so 'easy' was relative.
"It's just parked over in the junkyard," Liam told him. "Unless you've got plans for today."
Liam, for the record, did not.
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The walk to the junkyard wasn't long at all, from the Trooper Station just past the park, and then there they were.
The shuttle itself was maybe the size of a large cargo van, purple and vaguely bean-shaped, the front half shimmering with some sort of transparent energy field. As Liam approached, he made a gesture with one hand and the energy field dissipated so they could enter.
There were three chairs; two in the front and one behind, the curves of their design suggesting something organic.
Liam took the chair on the front right hand side, and gestured for Steve to come take a seat as well. "Up front gets you the best view," he said, as if Steve would even be contemplating sitting in the back passenger seat.
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Because we'll just see who has aneurysm face at a "going to space brb" text, Daniel.
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