Well, they certainly were a rag tag bunch of individuals, there were no doubts about that. But - the more important question was - could they make it back in one piece, and be able to stamp another proud Mission Success on their respective dossiers? Only time would tell, but first they had to make it to the ship. And damn, was this meeting dragging out.
Minor interactions here and there had occurred, but Nix simply sat back and observed not paying them much mind. Captain had a thing for sugary sweets, while Sweets had a thing for Captain - if you get my meaning. A shrouded, yet amused expression tugged at the marksman's lips as his head calmly rolled about his shoulders. Amber orbs flickered about just the same, jettisoning from shipmate to shipmate, particularly though, the one's whose personalities garnered more attention. Even more specifically, he found himself craning his neck towards the sound of his name.
There was just a bit to much chit-chat about the ship blowing up for him to be completely at ease with the conversation, but he wasn't quite expecting the brash statement made audible by their would-be mechanic. Gazing past the stoic Medical Officer and lounging Tactician, he'd hoist a brow at the spunky, yellowed eyed lass as she giggled. Studying her humorous, yet pointed expression something told him she wasn't kidding - yet all he could do was stare and blink twice for a moment, head cocked. Welp, someone obviously wasn't shy.., or up to date on social etiquette for that matter.
As he swiveled back into his seat, their Pilot dutifully chimed in - prolonging the topic of conversation. Shoulder muscles flexed back a bit, tensing only briefly as he became the center of attention. Eye to eye, or rather lens to eye - with the Captain's impish grin, the designated sharpshooter would aim to meet her snarky challenge head on. His sleek left, synthetic hand would raise itself, and with a single pull release the straps that held the respirator snug to his face. It fell slack, and sunk to his chest almost instantly revealing only a lackluster tightlipped expression. With both eyebrows raised Nixon simply tossed his shoulders back in a devil may care shrug. Perhaps he was even being a bit smug, as if he'd just derailed their hopes of something more interesting. Behind the mask was nothing grotesque, no layer of white puckered scars, or skin that hadn't seen the light of day in years. No, indeed he wasn't Luke's Father or even the Easter Bunny. He was who he said he was, no need to go digging for secrets. "Mystery solved, Captain." Time for a Scooby Snack.
Eyes slid next however to Ricky, wherein then he'd wink. If only to get the desired reaction.
Removing the mask from his it's hanging position, Nixon would turn and toss it across the room, towards the deft and able hands of their mechanic before leaning forward, elbows and forearms resting atop knees. An invitation to take a quick look. "I'd appreciate it, if you didn't pull it apart though." The man would murmur those words before running a hand up his face and sweeping a few stray colored locks out of his eyes - even if only for the moment.
To be honest, Nix always did feel odd without the breathing contraption within his immediate reach. It was just the way of things. And as a result, a touch of anxiety he worked near flawlessly to hide only managed to rear its head in the form of his thumb repetitively tapping against his knee. The vague nervous gesture was subtle enough, but as he licked his lips and rerouted his focus to the crackling intercom, there was no doubt that his eyes kept tabs on CC and her nimble, spindly little digits.
Nixon proceeded inhaled and exhaled normally, just like everybody else. The air outside the mask did taste crisper, colder, and not recycled but the arrival of the well dressed woman with spectacles promptly distracted him from the inconsistencies in the air. Rising to his feet on cue, the teal haired male would fall in line with his new shipmates, but not before altering his trajectory and purposefully crossing paths with CC. Calmly and expectantly, he'd extend a hand more than ready to have his belongings returned to him before boarding the ship.
Star-Fire 200IO, ready or not - here we come.
Minor interactions here and there had occurred, but Nix simply sat back and observed not paying them much mind. Captain had a thing for sugary sweets, while Sweets had a thing for Captain - if you get my meaning. A shrouded, yet amused expression tugged at the marksman's lips as his head calmly rolled about his shoulders. Amber orbs flickered about just the same, jettisoning from shipmate to shipmate, particularly though, the one's whose personalities garnered more attention. Even more specifically, he found himself craning his neck towards the sound of his name.
There was just a bit to much chit-chat about the ship blowing up for him to be completely at ease with the conversation, but he wasn't quite expecting the brash statement made audible by their would-be mechanic. Gazing past the stoic Medical Officer and lounging Tactician, he'd hoist a brow at the spunky, yellowed eyed lass as she giggled. Studying her humorous, yet pointed expression something told him she wasn't kidding - yet all he could do was stare and blink twice for a moment, head cocked. Welp, someone obviously wasn't shy.., or up to date on social etiquette for that matter.
As he swiveled back into his seat, their Pilot dutifully chimed in - prolonging the topic of conversation. Shoulder muscles flexed back a bit, tensing only briefly as he became the center of attention. Eye to eye, or rather lens to eye - with the Captain's impish grin, the designated sharpshooter would aim to meet her snarky challenge head on. His sleek left, synthetic hand would raise itself, and with a single pull release the straps that held the respirator snug to his face. It fell slack, and sunk to his chest almost instantly revealing only a lackluster tightlipped expression. With both eyebrows raised Nixon simply tossed his shoulders back in a devil may care shrug. Perhaps he was even being a bit smug, as if he'd just derailed their hopes of something more interesting. Behind the mask was nothing grotesque, no layer of white puckered scars, or skin that hadn't seen the light of day in years. No, indeed he wasn't Luke's Father or even the Easter Bunny. He was who he said he was, no need to go digging for secrets. "Mystery solved, Captain." Time for a Scooby Snack.
Eyes slid next however to Ricky, wherein then he'd wink. If only to get the desired reaction.
Removing the mask from his it's hanging position, Nixon would turn and toss it across the room, towards the deft and able hands of their mechanic before leaning forward, elbows and forearms resting atop knees. An invitation to take a quick look. "I'd appreciate it, if you didn't pull it apart though." The man would murmur those words before running a hand up his face and sweeping a few stray colored locks out of his eyes - even if only for the moment.
To be honest, Nix always did feel odd without the breathing contraption within his immediate reach. It was just the way of things. And as a result, a touch of anxiety he worked near flawlessly to hide only managed to rear its head in the form of his thumb repetitively tapping against his knee. The vague nervous gesture was subtle enough, but as he licked his lips and rerouted his focus to the crackling intercom, there was no doubt that his eyes kept tabs on CC and her nimble, spindly little digits.
Nixon proceeded inhaled and exhaled normally, just like everybody else. The air outside the mask did taste crisper, colder, and not recycled but the arrival of the well dressed woman with spectacles promptly distracted him from the inconsistencies in the air. Rising to his feet on cue, the teal haired male would fall in line with his new shipmates, but not before altering his trajectory and purposefully crossing paths with CC. Calmly and expectantly, he'd extend a hand more than ready to have his belongings returned to him before boarding the ship.
Star-Fire 200IO, ready or not - here we come.