Travis Touchdown (
rank1) wrote in
returnjourneylogs2022-03-19 09:22 pm
#11
Passengers: Travis Touchdown and Rhys Strongfork and Lucifer Morningstar
Location: An elevator
Date: mid March
Summary: Lucifer is like "wow I got the two most annoying inmates, let's lock them in a room together to sort things out!!" and ideally Travis will not fucking kill Rhys
Warnings: ideally Travis will not fucking kill Rhys but i'll let u knowwww
Noon at the gym. Travis is in his designated gym t-shirt, the sacrificial lamb from his collection that is navy blue and declares him to be WORLD FAMOUS. He does not own gym shorts, either here or at home, but here he cannot work out in the nude without being called a pervert or something. Maybe next month when the commissary opens he'll buy a pair. For now: jeans.
He waits at the gym door, head back, humming to himself, drumming his fingers on his thigh. He wonders if Rhys will pussy out of anything heavier than 10lbs. Probably. That guy looks like he was made for pushing papers, not work. Lucifer might do a little better, but he doesn't look like the kind of guy to tolerate gym shit very long. Short session, Travis bets.
Smash cut to getting in an elevator with the two guys. No gym after all. What a fucking bait-and-switch.
"The fuck is the point of this," Travis says, mostly to himself. The doors start to slide closed behind him, and he pivots on a heel, confused: Lucifer has not boarded the elevator, and Travis finds himself looking at an ever-narrowing slice of Lucifer's face. He calls back, wary: "Dude, what's the deal?"
Location: An elevator
Date: mid March
Summary: Lucifer is like "wow I got the two most annoying inmates, let's lock them in a room together to sort things out!!" and ideally Travis will not fucking kill Rhys
Warnings: ideally Travis will not fucking kill Rhys but i'll let u knowwww
Noon at the gym. Travis is in his designated gym t-shirt, the sacrificial lamb from his collection that is navy blue and declares him to be WORLD FAMOUS. He does not own gym shorts, either here or at home, but here he cannot work out in the nude without being called a pervert or something. Maybe next month when the commissary opens he'll buy a pair. For now: jeans.
He waits at the gym door, head back, humming to himself, drumming his fingers on his thigh. He wonders if Rhys will pussy out of anything heavier than 10lbs. Probably. That guy looks like he was made for pushing papers, not work. Lucifer might do a little better, but he doesn't look like the kind of guy to tolerate gym shit very long. Short session, Travis bets.
Smash cut to getting in an elevator with the two guys. No gym after all. What a fucking bait-and-switch.
"The fuck is the point of this," Travis says, mostly to himself. The doors start to slide closed behind him, and he pivots on a heel, confused: Lucifer has not boarded the elevator, and Travis finds himself looking at an ever-narrowing slice of Lucifer's face. He calls back, wary: "Dude, what's the deal?"

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...Yeah, I guess so. And freeze.
[ His mind immediately goes to Henderson's lifeless body floating past the window of his office with timing so good it was like a bad joke. Then his mind goes to other bodies, co workers who didn't make it off the station, Yvette....ejected into space, their corpses left to orbit Pandora like a frozen graveyeard.
He's glad he's not facing Travis right now, with the way he can feel his brows pinching. There's still some strain in his voice. ]
Can we- ....If you're gonna talk, talk about something else. Like your berry girls or whatever.
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Skeptically:]
What, you want to hear about Bizarre Jelly?
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Yeah, that. I've already forgotten most of what you said on Meodriotope so it'll be like brand new information.
[ Literally- well, almost literally anything would be better to think about than where his mind's going right now, even Travis's weird interests. Some kind of background noise to drown out the bad thought spiral he's begun to enter. ]
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[Travis rolls his eyes.]
You know not all of us talk just to hear our own voices, right?
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Who said I don't give a shit? I totally care about.. Bizzare...
[ He's already forgotten. ]
Look, we're stuck in here for the next however long. I don't like it, you don't like it, but I'm at least trying to make some conversation to pass the time. I thought you were into things like twenty questions.
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[He’s not buying it.]
There’s a reason I played it with Jack and not you, and it wasn’t that she’s hot.
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What, you only play with bald people?
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Nah, but give it time. You’ll figure it out.
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Fine, I'll go first. What's with you trying to fight everyone?
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[He doesn’t want to play shit, but he’s here and stuck, so:]
What’s with you picking fights all the time? You know you’ll lose.
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Seriously? Nothing?
[ Rhys can think of at least a handful things that give a better rush then a smackdown. Landing a good deal or promotion, watching someone you hate suffer, rolling a nat 20, the entirety of Pandora (in a bad way.) ]
Physically, maybe [ definitely. ] but physical isn't how I play.
[ He taps his right temple with the port in it. What does that even mean? Don't worry about it. ]
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Absolutely nothing.
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You'd fit right in on Pandora, that place was all violence all the time. Well- mostly.
[ It had it's moments, overshadowed as they were. The biodome, the....uh. Okay it had one moment, and it didn't really count. ]
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Why is it all violence?
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I dunno, it's like their culture down there or something, every other week there'd be some kind of turf war between clans. And if you didn't get get caught in their crossfire you'd be running from getting ripped apart by the wildlife instead.
[ Hyperion was supposedly helping with that, "bring order." But from all Rhys had seen down there they didn't accomplish much in the way of that. And the people, they really thought Hyperion had made it worse.
Regardless of what Rhys thought about most Pandorans, he could only deny the reality of it all so much after living down there for months. ]