[IT'S A PRETTY GOOD ASSUMPTION.
He can't hide it any longer. The bucket, as previously predicted, doesn't actually help aside from giving him something to hold onto. It's really hard to cough up something that can fly and it takes him a minute or so to encourage them to get the hell out of his mouth - and it's infinitely harder to do with two bees instead of one.
Bee one gets spit out (and seems a little dazed, bobbing around from the high velocity of that) and it's right about then that bee 2 decides it doesn't like being jostled so much.]
Ow! Son of a bitch!
[And there goes bee 2, spit out more easily. Stan sits there afterwards and holds his cheek.]
He can't hide it any longer. The bucket, as previously predicted, doesn't actually help aside from giving him something to hold onto. It's really hard to cough up something that can fly and it takes him a minute or so to encourage them to get the hell out of his mouth - and it's infinitely harder to do with two bees instead of one.
Bee one gets spit out (and seems a little dazed, bobbing around from the high velocity of that) and it's right about then that bee 2 decides it doesn't like being jostled so much.]
Ow! Son of a bitch!
[And there goes bee 2, spit out more easily. Stan sits there afterwards and holds his cheek.]
Edited 2020-08-03 01:58 (UTC)
[Bee 1 receives no mercy. Ford, they're endangered. Ford, they're pollinators. Ford, you could have put them in the greenhouse. Nope, that bee meets its end on the business end of a forty-year-old flyswatter.]
Stanley! Are you alright? Did it get you?
Stanley! Are you alright? Did it get you?
Ah, that's okay. It's a question I've got to live with. You just worry about getting out of here.
[Stan's still holding his face, but he's trying to shoo bee 2, which has decided it wants to hang around too close to Stan's face now that it's out of his mouth.]
There were two of 'em! Kill it, kill it!
[It doesn't answer either question, but it's the truth, so the flood gives him a pass for it.]
There were two of 'em! Kill it, kill it!
[It doesn't answer either question, but it's the truth, so the flood gives him a pass for it.]
....making sure my family's safe comes first.
[He's not the only warden on board the ship. If he chooses to leave, the inmate'll be reassigned.]
[He's not the only warden on board the ship. If he chooses to leave, the inmate'll be reassigned.]
[Bee 2 flies out of easy reach of Ford's flyswatter. He looks at the flyswatter, then over at the bee, all the way over there.
Then, Ford does what any sane man would do: he pulls out a ray gun and fries it.
There's a scorchmark on the wall with a little bee-shape in the middle. He'll scrub it down later.]
Then, Ford does what any sane man would do: he pulls out a ray gun and fries it.
There's a scorchmark on the wall with a little bee-shape in the middle. He'll scrub it down later.]
[Stan stares, remembering that bee was right next to his face a second ago. But, eh. He didn't get ray gunned in the face, so it's fine.
He feels around his mouth with his tongue, just to make totally sure. It's mostly for show though, and he tries not to touch the new sting too much.]
...Yeah, okay, there were definitely just two. Ugh, bees, am I right?
He feels around his mouth with his tongue, just to make totally sure. It's mostly for show though, and he tries not to touch the new sting too much.]
...Yeah, okay, there were definitely just two. Ugh, bees, am I right?
[Rose hadn't. He...he kind of wishes he'd been able to celebrate with her more, but he understood that she wasn't in the mood for it, not after what had happened -- not that soon. But maybe he can party for Rose? She deserves it.]
What did you have in mind?
What did you have in mind?
[Well, the good news is, since that bee lived long enough to get shot, there's probably not a stinger embedded in Stan Pines's mouth. It sounds like he got stung, though.
Ford sticks the flyswatter in his belt for easy retrieval. No telling when a bee might resurface, since he hasn't figured out the rule yet. And--]
You'd better ice and disinfect that sting. Hang on.
[Ford heads for another cabinet, starts rummaging around in it.]
Ford sticks the flyswatter in his belt for easy retrieval. No telling when a bee might resurface, since he hasn't figured out the rule yet. And--]
You'd better ice and disinfect that sting. Hang on.
[Ford heads for another cabinet, starts rummaging around in it.]
I can ask her, but....I'm not sure she's in a partying mood.
...
...
[Does he want to do something with Bill and Stan? Ford feels a bit of apprehension at the thought. Even if Stan agrees, that'll be tense, and Ford's not sure he's up for brother-exboyfriend mediation.
Means something that Bill suggested it, though.]
Thank you for offering to do that. But it's okay. I can do something else with Stan later, if he wants to.
[Bill suggested celebrating. What Bill will want to do will likely be different from what Stan wants to do, and that's OK.]
...
...
[Does he want to do something with Bill and Stan? Ford feels a bit of apprehension at the thought. Even if Stan agrees, that'll be tense, and Ford's not sure he's up for brother-exboyfriend mediation.
Means something that Bill suggested it, though.]
Thank you for offering to do that. But it's okay. I can do something else with Stan later, if he wants to.
[Bill suggested celebrating. What Bill will want to do will likely be different from what Stan wants to do, and that's OK.]
....have you ever been to the moon?
I mean the real one. Not the set in Area 51.
I mean the real one. Not the set in Area 51.
i have no idea i just saw someone on plurk upset about it
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mothmansplaining
2020-08-04 08:56 pm (UTC)(link)
Think you can program it into the Enclosure?
[A nod. He sure did.]
I'll meet you there in half an hour.
I'll meet you there in half an hour.
[Stan tries to shrug it off, though he doesn't stop Ford from getting whatever he's getting. It always feels a little strange to be doted on though, so he can't help opening his mouth.]
Eh, it's not that bad. It's not like it's the first ti-- ARE YOU KIDDING ME?
[No, the flood is not kidding. There is yet another bee, but Stan doesn't fuck around spitting it out this time. He's almost got the hang of gagging up something airborne by now!]
Ugh, why does this keep happening?!
Eh, it's not that bad. It's not like it's the first ti-- ARE YOU KIDDING ME?
[No, the flood is not kidding. There is yet another bee, but Stan doesn't fuck around spitting it out this time. He's almost got the hang of gagging up something airborne by now!]
Ugh, why does this keep happening?!
[in the blink of a fucking eye, Ford whirls around, draws, and fries the bee with sci-fi laser beams.
it's quiet for a moment.
then, he holsters his gun again.]
That might be the first real clue we have. You said it wasn't that bad. The flood clearly disagrees. But "that bad" is subjective. Here, gargle this.
[He dumps a blue liquid into a bottle of water, shakes it up, then hands it to Stanley. It is gonna taste bad, but not the worst.]
Just don't swallow any.
it's quiet for a moment.
then, he holsters his gun again.]
That might be the first real clue we have. You said it wasn't that bad. The flood clearly disagrees. But "that bad" is subjective. Here, gargle this.
[He dumps a blue liquid into a bottle of water, shakes it up, then hands it to Stanley. It is gonna taste bad, but not the worst.]
Just don't swallow any.
Yeah, well--
[What he wants to say is written all over his face. "Yeah, well, the stupid flood doesn't know what it's talking about." But at the last moment, he hesitates. He's still not really sure what exactly causes bees, and three is enough for the moment.
So he frowns, and takes the water bottle, or the what-used-to-be-water bottle.]
People say subjective junk all the time. That's not really lying.
[And it's not, so nothing happens, but he immediately takes a swig to gargle - as though if that opinion was going to cause a bee, he was going to make sure it was good and dead. As soon as he does he makes a face, both because it's gross and it stings a bit on both the new wound and the sting from this morning.]
[What he wants to say is written all over his face. "Yeah, well, the stupid flood doesn't know what it's talking about." But at the last moment, he hesitates. He's still not really sure what exactly causes bees, and three is enough for the moment.
So he frowns, and takes the water bottle, or the what-used-to-be-water bottle.]
People say subjective junk all the time. That's not really lying.
[And it's not, so nothing happens, but he immediately takes a swig to gargle - as though if that opinion was going to cause a bee, he was going to make sure it was good and dead. As soon as he does he makes a face, both because it's gross and it stings a bit on both the new wound and the sting from this morning.]
[Ford taps his chin, thinking, apparently unaffected by Stan's gross mouth things that are happening.]
Then maybe the flood disagrees with your subjective assessment. Maybe you thought it wasn't that bad, but it actually is. At least as far as whoever's judging objective truth here is concerned.
Then maybe the flood disagrees with your subjective assessment. Maybe you thought it wasn't that bad, but it actually is. At least as far as whoever's judging objective truth here is concerned.
[Stan makes even more of a face and shakes his head, since he can't exactly talk with this stuff in his mouth. He wants to argue SO BAD.
After a good thirty seconds (is that even long enough? He has no idea) he spits it out in the bug bucket.]
That's dumb! Isn't this stupid thing supposed to just be about lying?! If I don't think it hurts that bad, ain't that my truth? What, does the flood think I'm just ly--
[Oh, he doesn't like that thought. He can feel his foot hovering over the metaphorical landmine that brings up, but that's probably it, isn't it? Because it's a flood and it's gonna be whatever the worst thing is, and it's the worst thing he's thought of so far.
He takes the only way he can think of out of finishing that sentence. He doesn't elaborate or explain - he just decides he wasn't done gargling and takes another swig from the water bottle.]
After a good thirty seconds (is that even long enough? He has no idea) he spits it out in the bug bucket.]
That's dumb! Isn't this stupid thing supposed to just be about lying?! If I don't think it hurts that bad, ain't that my truth? What, does the flood think I'm just ly--
[Oh, he doesn't like that thought. He can feel his foot hovering over the metaphorical landmine that brings up, but that's probably it, isn't it? Because it's a flood and it's gonna be whatever the worst thing is, and it's the worst thing he's thought of so far.
He takes the only way he can think of out of finishing that sentence. He doesn't elaborate or explain - he just decides he wasn't done gargling and takes another swig from the water bottle.]
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