viking_seer | TLV Inbox

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"Anderson here. Leave a message and I'll get back to you. Thanks."

[ Saga didn't tell Matt what happened to her, but that didn't stop him from finding out. He hears pretty much everything, after all, if it's not spoken about inside of cabins. So the word about her recovery reaches his ears accidentally, and he debates leaving it, but, hey. Dying's pretty shitty and they're walking a fine-enough-line that he figures he can stop by.

So he does, gently rapping his knuckles against the door of her cabin. ]

Hey, it's Matt.

[ He'll get a message on his communicator- ]

Door's open. Come on in.

[ Huh. All right then. He waits for the voice to read out the message, then he opens the door just a bit before opening it all the way and stepping inside. ]

Sorry, I didn't bring anything, I just heard ... I wanted to check in.

[ She is on the couch in the main room, nursing a cup of something hot and sadly not caffinated. Soup today. ]

It's not a potluck. No entry fee required.

Yeah, but I've been laid flat on my ass enough times to know that people like to bring things when they visit someone recovering.

[ The corner of his mouth quirks up as he shuts the door gently behind him. ]

Next time, I'm asking for balloons. But you're scott free for now.

That's very gracious of you.

[ He looks amused, then lets the humor drop from his face. ]

Is it bad manners to ask how it happened?

[ She shakes her head. ]

Went out the window of a high rise with a corrupt CEO.

Don't recommend it.

Sounds like a typical day for me back home, actually.

[ More or less.

Matt's gone out of windows and over rooftops more than he should probably admit, but, hey, it's worked out for him so far. ]

Sometimes I'm lucky enough to land in the dumpster, though. How's the recovery going?

Nope. My landing put the concrete in 'concrete jungle'. Or put me in the concrete, anyway.

I'm... better. It's a death toll.

I guess it should make sense that coming back from the dead is a pretty terrible process.

Never done it before?

Here? Once. Back home? Once, too. Or at least it felt just as shitty as a death toll, but I probably wasn't really dead.

[ He finds a place to sit down, figuring it's strange to just keep standing and talking. No one wants to be awkward, after all. ]

[ There's plenty of seats, after all. ]

This is my first one too. Can't recommend it.

Try not to make it a habit. I don't know where I'll find balloons for the next time otherwise.

Hey.

I didn't die. She did.

...even if it'd be funny just to make you find balloons.

I'll have to try and find some next time we hit a port, just so I can stock up. Or maybe Jesse can get some for me.

I'm going to hold you to this. The balloons. Raising a girl's expectations is just cruel.

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