log 007, video

[thestarspangledman]

[Steve is in his cabin, frowning at a pile of clothes laid out on his bed. He is -- well, certainly not the giant hunk of man-meat that the barge has come to expect from his last posts. To be plain, he is a good six inches shorter, skinny and small and slightly pale. Currently, he's wearing an old workout t-shirt that is far too large for him, and a pair of sweatpants that are cinched about as tightly as they can go, and he might be keeping one hand on them just in case.]

Look, I don't know who thought this was funny, or maybe this is a thing you folks do to visitors? But I need something to wear that'll actually fit me.

...Oh, and the dog tags, too? I'm sure those will come in handy, thanks a lot. [He's holding them up in his free hand, giving the camera a tight smile.] After the fifth rejection and everything. You guys sure know how to treat a fella right.

Comments

[hungryanhorny]

[Probably best.]

You doing alright?

[thestarspangledman]

I could be worse, I guess.

[hungryanhorny]

Yeah? 'Cause that's not exactly sounding like "alright."

[thestarspangledman]

I'm fine. Don't worry about it.

[hungryanhorny]

You sure about that?

[thestarspangledman]

Definitely.

[hungryanhorny]

...Anyone tell you where the pub is?

[thestarspangledman]

I think I can manage to find it.

[hungryanhorny]

Hear the drinks are free. [She should know; she co-runs the place.]

[thestarspangledman]

Are they? Let's go, then.

[hungryanhorny]

Above Deck one. [She'll have to be careful; there's drinks there that could get even his more formidable self drunk, in all liklihood.]

[thestarspangledman]

I'll meet you there.

[hungryanhorny]

See ya soon, cap.