400yearsofsurvival | 9th Bite // [Spam]

9th Bite // [Spam]

[ Jerry was, surprisingly, behaving himself. But just like at the party, there was purpose behind it. He couldn't reset by moving on to a new place, with a new name. He needed another way to "reset." And now that he was more or less healed, he was making his rounds again. He wasn't quite as obvious as he'd been at the party.

In the dining hall. In the common rooms--most specifically the one with the pool table. Any general area readily accessible to inmates. Though he avoided the deck for the most part.

He wasn't lurking, exactly, but he wasn't entirely engaged. More watching. Waiting for others to come up to him.

But his plan was very, very simple. Since hearing of Stephen's demotion, he was looking for...opportunities. He couldn't defeat most of the wardens. But could he demoralize them? If he were behaved, but still managed to provoke one, what would come of it? So those were the people he was watching. The wardens more than the inmates. Looking for weaknesses. Things to toy with. Buttons to push. ]

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[Nick is only here for the pool table. If he sees Jerry, he just ignores him and goes straight to get a pool cue. Of course, he knows who he is and because of that he has no desire to really speak to him if he doesn't have a reason.]

[So, he goes ahead and racks up the table to play.]

[ At first, he didn't seem to recognize Nick. Seemed completely oblivious to his presence, entirely. But in actuality, he had recognized the man. He just needed to verify how. So he sat engrossed in his communicator for a bit. Keeping volume barely high enough for even him to hear it. Digging back through posts. Until he found something that occurred not long before he'd arrived. A rather touching conversation. Of course. Nick was someone from Stephen's home world.

He pushed up from his seat, pocketing the device. He pulled one of the sticks off the wall, holding it up as he looked to Nick. ]

Mind if I join you, guy?

[Nick adopts a similar mask as the one he uses with Helen, his expression kept blank. He shrugs in response as he lines up to break.]

If you like.

[He may have broke slightly harder than necessary. He sinks a solid, at least.]

[ He watched the break, gaze flicking to Nick after solid ball sank. He gave the slightest nod. Stripes for him. ]

That accent, where's it from?

[ He asked, as if he had no idea, sounding completely casual, as he looked for his own shot. He lined it up. Took the shot. But just barely missed the pocket, sending the ball ricocheting to another part of the table. He looked mildly disappointed, though it was just as planned. To put his opponent at ease. ]

[Nick gives him a look, not buying that somehow Scottish people no longer exist or that Jerry is that stupid.]

No Scotland where you're from?

[He takes his turn, because at least he's getting a go at the table, unlike how it was playing with Vex. He gets another ball in then botches his next, sending the white one in the pocket.]

[ He rested the wide end of his stick on the table, leaning his weight on it as he gripped it with both hands. Watching the man's shots closely.

He gave a small shake of his head, with a subtle frown at the jab. ]

Just difficult to place an accent from just a few words. Guess I should've known better.

[ He reached into the pocket and pulled out the fallen cue ball. ]

[Another look, this one is a shade on the exasperated side.]

I doubt my accent is really something you care about.

[He stands back and leans against the wall.]

[ He took his time placing the ball, looking for an idea spot. He lined it up. Stick tested against the ball, leaning over the table. He glanced up at Nick. ]

Why wouldn't I? My family's from that part of the world.

[ It was true, after all. If a few hundred years in the past. He took his shot. This time, he didn't miss. He banked it just right, sinking three of his own before the rest settled across the table. He glanced to Nick again as he moved to line up another shot. ]

[He's not even watching the pool table anymore. He occasionally glances just to see if it's his turn yet.]

You don't strike me as the type to care about your heritage. You're fishing for something...

[ He glanced up from the next shot he was lining up. ]

Just making conversation.

[ He glanced back to his shot. But he seemed to miss his mark. His stick seemed to slip on the ball, sending it on a wild spin across the table. It knocked one of Nick's balls into a pocket, before halting on the edge, just shy of falling in. Jerry shrugged, as if it were only a mild disappointed, stepping back from the table. ]

[He doesn't quite believe that but he'll play along for now. He shrugs.]

Fine. My mistake.

[He goes in to line up his own shot. He can't find a good angle for a straight shot so he lines up for a ricochet shot. He nearly makes it but it stops just shy of sinking ]

[ He gives a look that says "tough break" as he moves to take his own shot. But this one is just as abysmal as the last one. The ball completely misses it's target before nearly sinking the eight ball. The cue ball at last falls into one of the pockets.

But instead of letting Nick get it himself, Jerry reaches into the pocket to grab it. Handing it to the man. Getting a bit closer than was really necessary. ]

Are you always so wary of people, or am I a...special case?

[He doesn't flinch at the closeness. He keeps eye-contact and stands his ground.]

I know who you are, if that's what you mean.

[He takes the ball and walks around to the other side of the table to place it.]

And I wouldn't call you special.

[ He maintained eye contact until Nick broke it to take his shot. Not flinching. Not even looking uncomfortable. ]

Who do you think I am?

[ Again he rested his stick against the table, leaning his weight on it. Continuing to act as this were a completely ordinary game of pool. ]

[He finds that question funny for some reason.]

Why? You forget who you are?

[He takes his shot, it's nothing fancy but he manages to get one ball in.]

[ He gave a shake of his head with a small shrug, watching the man take his shot. ]

No. I want to know who you think I am.

I think-- [He takes another shot, doesn't get any balls in, but he really doesn't care who wins anyway.] --you care a little too much about what I think.

But since you asked so nicely, [a little heavy on the sarcasm] you're the idiot who got himself fire-bombed.

[ He rounded the table. Looking for his next shot. Not rising to the insult. ]

I think everyone on this boat knows that.

[ He started setting up his shot, glancing up at Nick. ]

And I think you meant something else.

[ This time, he wasn't pulling his shots. He sank more than one of his own balls before they settled. ]

You have a point you're trying to make?

[ He surveyed the table for a long moment, moving around it. Looking more like he was stalking it than looking for a shot. ]

I could ask you the same thing.

[ He leaned down, seeming to line up a shot, but his gaze was fixed firmly on Nick's face. ]

[That just makes him laugh.]

You are rubbish at deflecting. I'm here to play pool, you decided to join. [He shrugs.] If you're waiting to see if I want you dead... we're gonna be here awhile.

[ The game was no longer a worry. His next shot seemingly forgotten as he turned to face Nick. Leaning against the pool table. Letting the end of his stick rest on the floor. ]

You'd be a rarity if you didn't. It seems to be a...rather commonly held belief on this ship.

[He shrugs] Don't see the point of it myself.

Not exactly a deterrent in a place like this.

[Besides, Nick's actually thought about it, it would be more effect to hit him where it hurts. Or at least more satisfying.]

[ He gave a small shrug. He kept hearing about the death toll, but he wasn't going to rely on it until he saw it in action. Nick was going to have a tough time, though. Jerry had very few places to hit like that. Some might even say none at all. His own existence being the only thing he truly valued. ]

So I've heard. But it hasn't stopped others from trying.

Stress relief. [He smirks] You look like a decent punching bag.

[ A slow smile stretched across his face. ]

You're not the only one on this ship who'd want to use me for...stress relief.

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9th Bite // [Spam]

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