Post by Nathan Landry on Feb 2, 2018 13:28:22 GMT -8
Nathan was sulking.
Granted, this probably wasn't the most logical of reactions, but then again, he'd never gone around trying to pass himself off as someone who made logical choices, so he was in familiar territory.
He'd barely arrived back, to a ship full of people exactly like the ones he'd left, because of course he'd not had the good fortune to end up anywhere exciting during their little escapade with alternate universes. And since he'd gotten back, he'd had the misfortune of discovering that nobody interesting and also wearing his face had shown up.
A ruddy science officer, for gods' sake. And of course, the man-who-wasn't-him had helped a whole lot, had discovered the whole situation practically, but it still...well, it smarted a little. He would've been willing to bet, before this situation, that he would've at least ended up something exciting, somewhere out there. A dashing desperado. A starship Captain. A pirate. Something.
But no, he'd managed to find himself on a Talon so spectacularly like his own that it had taken him the better part of a day to figure out he wasn't at home, and that was only because Alyssa had called him by his supposed full name (Nathan Leslie Landry, like his mother would ever have allowed such an abomination). And then it had been weeks before they'd figured out where he was supposed to be, and when all was said and done, he'd been pulled back into his proper dimension in time to find out half the crew had been shipped off to a new planet, to do exciting things, while he was stuck here on the Talon.
Alyssa was here, too, of course. That would have made things better if she wasn't stuck in the security offices, overseeing something to do with the cadet program. Which left him here, in the mess hall, because he'd been given a talking-to on the other Talon about his...well, that Alyssa apparently thought him a drunkard, and given that it was nine o'clock in the morning and the only thing he could think about was whiskey, she probably had a point. So here he sat, in the mess hall, staring at a plate of French toast and wishing he had a whiskey.
The universe wasn't fair.
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Granted, this probably wasn't the most logical of reactions, but then again, he'd never gone around trying to pass himself off as someone who made logical choices, so he was in familiar territory.
He'd barely arrived back, to a ship full of people exactly like the ones he'd left, because of course he'd not had the good fortune to end up anywhere exciting during their little escapade with alternate universes. And since he'd gotten back, he'd had the misfortune of discovering that nobody interesting and also wearing his face had shown up.
A ruddy science officer, for gods' sake. And of course, the man-who-wasn't-him had helped a whole lot, had discovered the whole situation practically, but it still...well, it smarted a little. He would've been willing to bet, before this situation, that he would've at least ended up something exciting, somewhere out there. A dashing desperado. A starship Captain. A pirate. Something.
But no, he'd managed to find himself on a Talon so spectacularly like his own that it had taken him the better part of a day to figure out he wasn't at home, and that was only because Alyssa had called him by his supposed full name (Nathan Leslie Landry, like his mother would ever have allowed such an abomination). And then it had been weeks before they'd figured out where he was supposed to be, and when all was said and done, he'd been pulled back into his proper dimension in time to find out half the crew had been shipped off to a new planet, to do exciting things, while he was stuck here on the Talon.
Alyssa was here, too, of course. That would have made things better if she wasn't stuck in the security offices, overseeing something to do with the cadet program. Which left him here, in the mess hall, because he'd been given a talking-to on the other Talon about his...well, that Alyssa apparently thought him a drunkard, and given that it was nine o'clock in the morning and the only thing he could think about was whiskey, she probably had a point. So here he sat, in the mess hall, staring at a plate of French toast and wishing he had a whiskey.
The universe wasn't fair.
Tag: Any