[color=silver][h1][center]Hire me! Part 2[/center][/h1][/color]
[color=white][center][b]Lunar Veil | Cockpit[/b][/center][/color]
[color=silver][center]Summary[/center][/color]
[color=silver][center][i]Kinneas ask for a job on the LV. Goes as well as you might think.[/i][/center][/color]
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[cell][center][url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/posts/5360043][img] https://i.imgur.com/Sy9cv6b.png[/img][/url][/center][/cell]
[cell][center][url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/posts/5360056][img] https://i.imgur.com/1mmb9CW.png[/img][/url][/center][/cell]
[cell][center][url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/posts/5360257][img] https://i.imgur.com/xbzDd3i.png[/img][/url][/center][/cell]
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OOC: JP between [@Winters], [@MK Blitzen], [@Aalakrys]

“That’s what I’m here to find out,” Kinneas said as he pushed himself from the frame of the doorway with his shoulder, standing upright once more. “Well, captain?”

Jago sighed thinking. "Well why not make yourself useful, there's a chore list hanging in the galley."

“I’m not signing on to be anyone’s qìyuē yōnggōng (indentured servant).” Kinneas’ expression darkened slightly, insulted by the first thought that came to Deckard’s mind. 

Tim sucked a thin stream of air through his teeth, suddenly fascinated with one of the fuel cell indicators. He suppressed any nervous laughter that threatened to bubble up. 

"Oh I'm sorry princess but our janitorial staff sought employment elsewhere.  So while I go and find a new maid so your pretty hands don't have to get dirty, everyone on this ship pulls their own weight. If you have a problem with that you can file a complaint in our suggestion box, conveniently located in the gorram airlock." Jago said flatly, giving Kinneas a level look.

Tim’s gage grew more fascinating by the minute, and he fought hard to not let out another wince.

“I don’t have a [i]problem[/i] with -” Kinneas was interrupted, his gritted teeth over the word emphasized grinding to a halt.

"Good." Jago said cutting Kinneas off. "Chore list is in the galley."

“They’re not all horrible,” Tim promised. “I mean, some of them. Crew sometimes plays tall card for ‘em, if you’re a betting man.” 

 Kinneas was about to tell the captain where he could shove his chore list, but bitterly smirked at the notion of pawning them off on someone else if he won a hand or two of cards. “That makes it all better, sure. In the meantime, I’ll just go hop right to that list. Can’t think of a better way to spend the start of my time bound to this ship.” [i]Fuck if I will.[/i] He turned to go back to his bunk.

Jago waited for the man to leave. "I swear Serena whines less than that man." He grumbled going back to the list on the cortex screen.

Tim watched the new person leave, and rubbed his non-existent five-o-clock shadow. “Give him a little time,” the pilot offered. “I know you’re spoiled, what with me coming on board right out of the box amazing. “ He raised his eyebrows a few times towards the captain, fishing for compliments he knew wouldn’t come. 

"Time I got. Patience with another teen on the boat, less so." He paused, turning to Tim. "The coffee ain't that bad is it?"

“It’s like you melted brown crayons in swamp water,” Tim replied. “I’ll make a shopping run on New Kasmir, while you go and get us raked over by a new fixer.” 

"Zero faith in your Captain." Jago tsked. "And spring for the nicer crayons." He joked.
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