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Drake ([info]bengal) wrote in [info]kings_ransom,
@ 2008-02-06 12:30:00

Previous Entry  Add to memories!  Tell a Friend!  Next Entry
MONDAY
Who: Drake and OTA
Where: The deck of the King’s Ransom
When: Sometime just after Noon


The wind and light rain cascaded over Drake’s body as he danced along the edge of the ship fearlessly; they were still rising into the air as they crossed over the English Channel and the feral mutant was in a playful mood. He did cartwheels and one-armed stands on the ship’s edge as he laughed and danced and then, someone yelled ‘Give us a song, Mate!’. Drake’s hazel eyes almost glowed and he grinned so wide that his canines threatened to grow to lethal proportions.


“Oy! I think I can do that!”, he chuckled, rubbing his chin. “Let’s all get in the mood for Hawaii wif a little ditty by the great Don Ho!”. A small group of rowdies cheered him on.


There were no ukeles aboard, but a guitar started playing and Drake began a comical dance along the edge of the ship as he sang…


“Tiny bubbles in the wine,
Make me happy, make me feel fine,
Tiny bubbles make me warm all over
With a feeling that I'm gonna
Love you 'til the end of time.


So here's to the golden moon,
And here's to the silver sea,
But most of all a toast to you and me


Tiny bubbles in the wine,
Make me happy, make me feel fine,
Tiny bubbles make me warm all over
With a feeling that I'm gonna
Love you 'til the end of time.


So here's to the ginger lei
I give to you today
And here's a kiss that will not fade away.


Tiny bubbles in the wine,
Make me happy, make me feel fine,
Tiny bubbles make me warm all over
With a feeling that I'm gonna
Love you 'til the end of time.”


When he finished, he did a backflip that looked like it was going to send him over the side of the ship, but he caught the ship’s edge with his hands and propelled himself to the middle of the deck and landed on his feet to take his bows before his friends who were laughing and clapping.


After his rowdy friends scurried off to their duties, he looked around and quietly walked over to one of the propeller shafts and opened a panel, lifting out a bottle of beer and twisting off the top. He strolled back over to the edge of the ship and leaned back taking a long drink, “Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh! Crikey…’at’s good!”.



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[info]docjordan
2008-02-08 10:06 pm UTC (link)
Now the doctor had taken his sweet time in getting his rooms ready once he was on the ship. Unpacking and meticulously setting his quarters up, his books on a bookcase, his desk set with a lamp, pens, pencils and papers, he'd bolted his personal file cabinet to the floor as was everything in the ship it seemed. It had taken him two days, with breaks for meals, showers and other necessities. Then he had set up his ward just as meticulously as his quarters, if not more so. If in a pinch, an emergency, he wanted everything and anything that he would need right where he needed it.

If anyone dare to move his precious items, he would personally, deliberately -possibly with a maniacle laugh- cut off limbs. And he wouldn't waste a sedatives either. He was just that way. His medical rooms took him three days to place, poke and conjole his needs into place.

Each time they landed he stockpiled on medical supplies, books and then doubled such supplies. He hadn't been in the boy scouts but he believed in being prepared for anything. For the rest of his first month he took the time to get to know the names of most of the crew, look over their medical records, if they had any, and peruse the ship.

It took all his willpower NOT to tidy up the ship like his rooms were. Except for the kitchen, anyone messing with that would likely get the same response as messing with his cabinets, which he was glad of. He liked a good clean kitchen and the fact that a woman was running it, male cooks just didn't seem to have the same loving touch as a female with food.

So now he was wandering about the ship, coming top-side for a smoke. Yes he was a doctor, yes he knew the effects of smoking, and he just didn't give a damn. It wasn't as if he smoked everyday, just mainly when he was bored or highly stressed. He still hadn't heard anything about his family, not that he would have expected to in Paris and these 'far off places' as Hilda used to call them. Now they were heading more toward home territory, and hope caroused with his sanity like a kitten with a mouse toy.

He lit the cigarette, watched the show, and even clapped his free set of hands. "Bravo." He murmured, then took a long drag with a slight smirk. Watching the man he raised a brow, "What? Not giving us an encore?" Of course he was safe and dry under the eave of...something on the deck. He rolled his eyes, crouched, his second set of arms disappearing under his lab coat as he flicked the ash off and took another inhale.

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[info]bengal
2008-02-11 01:25 am UTC (link)
After having taken his second swig of beer, Drake heard clapping coming from under one of the doorway overhangs; he lifted his head and opened one eye to take a peek. Handsome bloke...and he had a few sets of arms...must be the doctor that he'd heard so much about. He thought he may as well mosey on over and meet the good doc.


Swaggering across the deck, Drake offered his hand and greted, "You must be goodly Doc Jordan, aye? I'm Drake...Drake Tanner. Natural healing ability, so you won't need to patch me up evah". He stood back and looked the doc over. "Multiple limbs, you lucky dog! Bet you are one popular bloke with the ladies,eh?", he teased, "or with the gents", he added,"not for me to judge!".


He was pleased to see that the doctor was smoking a cigarette...a man with vices was a man that he could befriend. "I see that you're a ciggy smokin' man, Doc", he began, "If you like beer and cards, we have us a nice evening ahead! What do ye say, Mate?". Drake was a feral and he could sense certain things about people when he met them...Doc Jordan's body language and scent seemed to communicate someone who was a bit of a 'lone wolf', but not an unfriendly one. He could understand that...he was a solitary sort himself. Sure, he liked people. He liked to play, but then he liked to wander off to himself and prowl around in the night on his own.


Waiting for the doc to answer him, Drake drained the rest of his beer and shoved the empty bottle into one of the large pockets of his sand-colored, camo-cargo pants... "For the recycle bin", he explained with a wink, adding, "I'm not a total git".


He stood in the drizzling rain, letting it cascade over him, molding his clothes to his body and plastering his longish blond hair to his face...it made him feel alive. He smiled and parted his hair away from his bright hazel eyes which sparkeled as they still looked the doc over waiting to hear what he had to say.






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[info]docjordan
2008-02-11 02:39 am UTC (link)
As Drake all but screamed masculinity as he walked across the deck toward him, Jordan bit back a smirk. He stood, took Drake's hand and gave it a firm shake. "Heard a little about you, well read a little about you, Mr. Tanner." He chuckled and shook his head, "Most gents and ladies don't find the pleasure of me having multiple limbs." He gave Drake a wink and a pleasing smirk.

He chuckled again, "More of a whiskey drinker actually, beer doesn't work fast enough for me." He lifted a shoulder, "Cards...I was never allowed to play for fear of me having two hands." He smirked, his father had seriously never let him play any kind of cards, Jordan was a sneak. "But I'll let you win a few."

He watched Drake put the bottle away, "Nice." He took another drag of his cig, "Want one?" He motioned with the cig at Drake and reached for his pack just in case the other mutant did.

Jordan smirked, "You might heal fast but I doubt you can withstand the flu, which you'll get if you don't watch it." He pointed at the sky and raised a brow at Drake. "I'm not gentle with needles either." His smirk turned sideways, making him look rather devilish. He pushed his long hair back away from his face and looked at the sky, "How long do you think it'll rain?"

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[info]bengal
2008-02-11 05:56 pm UTC (link)
Drake gave the doc a toothy grin as he shook his hand, “Read about me, did ya?”, he chuckled, “People magazine’s ‘Sexiest Mutie of the Year?’, was it?”. He liked this man…he seemed to be an intelligent man…one who was a bit guarded, but Drake liked breaking through those defenses. ’Did he say ladies AND gents don’t find pleasure in his limbs?’. A wicked smile spread across the feral mutant’s face.


Stepping out of the rain and joining the doctor under the doorway awning, Drake purred, “My dear doctor, may I call you Jordan?...anyone who cannot find pleasure in the arms of a man with multiple limbs is a person sorely lacking libido and imagination!”. Grabbing locks of his soaks blond hair, he twisted them to wring the rainwater out and then finally mussed the whole lot to give himself that grunge supermodel look.


When Doc Jordan admitted to being a whiskey drinker because it got him drunk faster, Drake practically did a backflip. “Whiskey?! Whiskey?! Oh, Doc…I have 2 bottles of aged Glen Garioch Scotch Whiskey in my cabin just waiting for someone who appreciates it to share it with me…”, he clicked his tongue and gave the doc a gentle jab with his elbow, “…’at’s a bottle for you and a bottle for me! As for the cards, I play a pretty mean game of…well, everything, so use all the hands you want , ol chap”.


“Do I want a ciggy?”, he answered to the handsome doctor’s offer, “Does the Pope shyte in the woods?”. He eagerly accepted the cigarette and lit it from the one Jordan was already smoking.


Drake grinned when he was threatened with the flu and explained, “Nope…won’t get the flu or nuffin like it, Doc. I ain’t been sick since puberty, y’know…since my mutie powers kicked in. I heal everything…cuts, bruises, broken bones, sicknesses and since I hit my late 20s or so…”, he whispered, “…even the affects of aging”. He leaned against the wall and took a long drag of the cigarette… “Won’t get cancer either”, he added with a wink.


The weather was something he had some small talent with…when asked how long he thought it would last, he took the cigarette from his lips and looked out into the sky inhaling deeply. “This is with us for the rest of the day, Doc Jordan. What do you say to that whiskey and those cards…or, Hell…just the whiskey!”



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[info]docjordan
2008-02-12 12:34 am UTC (link)
Jordan snorted and then smirked, "Oh yes, I'm all about reading about the hottest mutants. You know there was this one woman that had six tits and hands to fondle them all too." His brow raised slightly and he smiled.

"Jordan or Doc, either is fine with me." He lifted a shoulder, took another drag of his cigarette. The doctor chuckled and shook his head, "Only if they knew about the multiple hands would they be lacking. As far as I know my family and the people on this ship are the only ones that know. I'd like to keep it that way, if you catch my drift." He gave Bengal a small look, not threatening, just pointed.

He then chuckled, "I suppose I could use a whole bottle. Only be able to play with cards through the first half of it though. The second half I like to play with larger items." He left the suspicion of what the items could be up to the man beside him. Jordan had been known in college to do anything and everything, even a couch when someone paid him a nice chunk of change to do so. Of course it went to his tuition, cause his gpa had dropped a little again after that night's massacre of brain cells.

"I thought he shitted in a gold toilet wrapped with purple velvet." He smirked, "Indoors too, not everyone wants to see that wrinkly old ass."

He eyed Drake for a moment then sighed, "Shame, I do enjoy making people scream on the table." He finished off his cig, flipping it over the railing. He stretched, his shoulders popping a little as well as a few vertebrae in his back. He wondered if Drake had ever went under studies, the anti-aging would be a treat for the rest of the world. Questions like that were best asked when other intimate subjects had been mounted, overcome and put behind.

He thought for a moment, on a ship like this he was technically always on call. Morals fought for a split second with the want of a drink and he lifted a shoulder, "Whiskey, I hate the rain. Best when it snows if you ask me." He smirked at Drake.

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[info]bengal
2008-02-12 02:53 pm UTC (link)
“Whiskey it is then, Doc!”, Drake exclaimed, “Follow me to my most humble abode”. He gave the handsome multi-limbed man a pat on the back and then led the way down into the living area of the airship.


As they moved through the hallways, people spoke or nodded on their way to do their jobs…most were busy at this time of day. Drake’s job came at night. Unless the captain had an odd job for him to do and the captain was apparently busy with other things at the moment. When they arrived at L02C07, or Level 2 Cabin 7, Drake kicked open the door and flourished a hand inwards saying, “After you, dear doctor. Mi casa es su casa”. The room was, surprisingly, neat as a pin to which the feral mutant had to remark, “Bet you expected a beastly boy like meself to ‘ave a real messy place, aye?”. He walked as he talked, over to a trunk that stood at the foot of his bed. Opening the trunk he pulled out the two bottles of Scotch whiskey and gave each a kiss, then tossing one to the doc… “Well, I likes to bring company back every so often and company doesn’t take too well to a pig sty and besides, the captain likes to pop in once in awhile too”.


With a wicked grin, Drake opened his bottle and took a large swig of the whiskey and released a loud “AHHHHHHHHHH!”, then removed his shirt and retrieved a hanger to hang it on. “Hope you don’t mind, Doc. I need to get out of these wet things before we continue”. He winked and turned his back as he stripped his pants off…he wasn’t wearing any underwear, of course. Reaching up into a shelf he grabbed two towels a white one and a turquoise one. He dried himself off with the white one and tossed it into a hamper and then secured the turquoise one around his waist. “Now, that’s nice and comfy”, he purred, stretching his arms above his head.


“Have a seat, Doc”, he indicated a soft, overstuffed leather chair, taking the one opposite the handsome man. “Me roomies won’t be back for around 10 hours or so”, he pointed to the bunks, “Bug sleeps there. He’s the green chap. ‘E can hop like blocks at a time…talks to insects too. Muffle sleeps up there. ‘E’s the one that can lower sound levels or take sound away in an area all together. HAH! That power comes in pretty handy when we want to party late at night. That bunk is empty so far…I pity the git that is stuck in here wif us”.


Reaching back, Drake retrieved his deck of cards and threw them on the small table… “There’s the cards, mate, if ya want to play…or we can just drink, smoke and talk”. He leaned forward and took a long, deep drink from his bottle. Wiping his lip off with his thumb and squinting his eyes just a bit, he grinned and confessed, “I like you, Doc…you drink, smoke, cuss and I’m sure you have a few other vices. You’re a bit irreverent, you’re obviously an intelligent man…and best of all, you’re pervy!”. To Drake, these were the highest of compliments he had just delivered. He smiled at the doctor and then as it just crossed his mind…


“Crikey! What kind of host am I?”, he asked himself as he jumped up and crossed over to the small fridge, “Would you like anything to eat, Doc? We ‘ave a pretty well stocked fridge”.


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[info]docjordan
2008-02-12 11:25 pm UTC (link)
Jordan was fond of letting other people do most of the talking. Luckily for him Bengal did a lot of talking, without much prompting. He smirked a little as they reached Drake's abode. "Nice." He said after glancing around and hearing a small explanation of why it was so clean. He opened his own bottle, took a short draft and closed his eyes. Feeling it burn all the way down he smirked and licked his lips, his eyes coming back open to look at Drake undressing.

He'd seen worse, but not many better.

He sat down, listened to Bengal and made small sounds of acknowledgment. He chuckled, and when there was a pause he lifted a shoulder, "Room as neat as this I don't think I'd pity many people." He took another draft of the drink and picked up the cards. He shuffled them, with a flourish. He knew cards, having played many a game of solitaire in the dark of the winter months in Alaska. "Need to play, the smoking and talking comes in the second half remember."

Throwing a smirk at the other he flipped the cards a few times, doing a few tricks here and there, without the aid of his other hands. He chuckled, "I eat a lot and I'm not too well mannered. I like to hulk over my plate like a bulldog over a bone, and I will bite if someone tries to touch my plate." There was another vice, lots of other vices.

He leaned back in his chair, chuckling as he watched Drake jump up. "If you're hungry I'll eat with ya, other than that I'm good. Need to watch my weight so I might get offers on using my other hands for good." His lips twitched up for a moment, a small smirk playing around his lips before they wrapped around the bottle again. "I'll eat pretty much anything you put in front of me."

He felt overdressed, suddenly. Standing he took his lab coat off, putting it over a hook near the door with his long mutant arm as he sat back down. "Steal from the Strongarm do you?" He chuckled, "Now she might give you a bruise it'd take you a while to heal."

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[info]bengal
2008-02-13 05:17 pm UTC (link)
Drake’s hazel eyes twinkled when Doc shuffled the cards. “I have a feeling this is going to be some fucking brilliant card playing here”, he exclaimed, as he turned and opened the fridge.


He looked inside and looked back as the doc removed his coat. “Watching your weight, Doc? HAH! You look fine, mate. I’m sure that there are plenty of crewmembers already signed up for physicals they don’t really need, eh?”, he chuckled and winked.


He started removing things from the fridge… “This is a box of éclairs that I purchased in Paris. Thick, rich, fattening and to die for, baby! Fucking decadent…eat up!”. He moved aside a few things and removed a small tray and grinned widely. “Speaking of stealing from the Strongarm, this is a little snack platter I swung down out of the rafters and ‘borrowed’ from Miss Booma just last night…fried buffalo wings, fried jalapeno poppers, fried mozzarella sticks and, my favorite, fried Snickers bars”, he grinned a dimpled grin and wiggled his eyebrows, “let me warm these in the toaster oven while I get us some poker chips and then we are ready to go, Mr. Doctor Man!”.


Drake was in Heaven…he hadn’t met anyone on the ship that had as many vices as he had, but this doctor seemed to be as much of an animal as himself. He opened his trunk and grabbed a container filled with poker chips, stopped by the toaster over, just as it ‘dinged’, to retrieve their fried finger foods and settle down at the table across from the doc. “Whiskey, smokes, French pastries and fried foods…something here ought to bloody well kill us, eh?”, Drake laughed and gave his companion a pat on the arm.


Settling back in his chair, Drake popped a few jalapeno poppers in his mouth and chased them down with a long drink of scotch whiskey. “Ahhhhhh! Deal me a winning hand, Doc Jordan!”, he exclaimed clapping his hands together and leaning forward to pluck an éclair from it’s ornate box. He took a bite of the sinfully delicious pastry and seemed to relish it as he closed his eyes for a moment…then, opening his eyes, he licked the cream from his lips and asked, “So, got an eye on anyone special, Doc? Better, ever had anyone onboard?”. The feral mutant used his tongue to lewdly lick the cream from the inside of the éclair and then, after a drink of scotch, he shrugged and considered, “Maybe I should save these questions until we are looking at the bottom of these bottles, aye?”


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[info]docjordan
2008-02-14 01:15 pm UTC (link)
He thought of his schedule and shook his head with a slight smirk. "Nope, none. Want to be the first? I promise I'm...more gentle than a bear." He chuckled and lifted a shoulder.

Raising a brow, Jordan listened to the other talk about the food. He wondered if strongarm or boomer or whatever her name was had a clue who stole her food. In a ship of mutants it could be anyone and everyone. "Poor girl, probably starved to death last night." He smirked at the feral mutant and lifted a shoulder.

"If that's your aim then certainly on the right track. Might even be on the old cloaked figure's doorstep right now." He took a long draft of the whiskey, smirked and set the bottle back down.

Dealing out the cards he canted his head to the side. "Nothin' wild this time around, see how good you are shall we?" Jordan smirked a little again. After dealing out the cards he picked his up, setting his hand to be a winner as he glanced at the cards. He reached out and grabbed a buffalo wing, tearing into it with his teeth.

He chewed and swallowed, he at least had that many manners. Finishing off the wing he glanced around and tossed it in the trash easily. "No and no, only been on for two months. Spent most of those avoiding people or having them avoid me." He lifted a shoulder, noticing how Bengal licked at the eclair and wondering if the man was purely teasing or if he meant to go through with something along those lines a little later on in the bottle.

"What about yourself? Know of any good lays I might need to look into?" He smirked and put down two cards, waiting for Bengal to get his replacements before taking his own as was proper in a game of poker. "Had my fair share of partners at college, now those are some stories." He chuckled and shook his head, taking another sip of the drink.

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[info]bengal
2008-02-14 05:55 pm UTC (link)
Let the doc examine him? That might even be interesting. His mutant healing power had never really been studied and he just took it for granted really. He leaned back in his chair and ran his fingers through his mussed blond hair, “So, I’d be your first on the ship, eh?”, he chuckled, “…dubious honor, that is!”. He leaned forward and scratched at his stubbly chin, “It might be interesting to have you examine me, Doc…see what makes me tic. Take some blood samples if ya like even”, he made a muscle, “This body hasn’t aged a day since I was in my late twenties, boyo. Care to guess how old I really am?”. He nibbled a mozzarella stick and swigged another drink of scotch, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “No, I think I’ll let you give me a complete examination and then I’ll tell you how old I really am, eh. Blow your bloody knickers off, mate!”.


As the cards were dealt, Drake collected them and arranged them neatly in his hand and rejected one to the table, “I’ll take one, dealer”, he requested, gathering up the card as it was given to him and fitting it into the fan of cards in his hand.


Looking over his cards, he queried, “Avoiding people, eh? Another lone wolf in the pack. I’m the same way. I like to play, but when play time is ovah, I go my own way. I prowl most evenings and nights, unless I’m on watch in the crow’s nest”, he grinned, “The few who know, hate that I prowl around in the rafters…Booma worries that I peek at her titties”, he winked, “Of course I peek at any that pass beneath and are clearly visible…I mean…c’mon”.


Throwing in a few chips, Drake stated, “I’m in for $100.00”


“Good lays you want to look into?”, he repeated the Doc’s words, “There are plenty, mate. Some I’ve tried and can give you first hand knowledge of and there are some that are just a feast for the eyes and have got to be plucked by one of us”. He picked up another éclair and, after biting it, took his time licking the cream from the inside. “If you let me know your preferences, Doc, I could steer you in the right direction or maybe even set you up, eh?”, he purred, leaning his chin on his hand, “Blond, brunette, redhead, bald, thin, fat, inbetween, boy, girl, young and old…we have em all on the merry ol King’s Ransom”.


Drake’s hazel eyes watched the doctor like a jungle cat watches a gazelle on the Serengeti plains…he studied every body movement, every twitch, every facial tick, every bead of sweat…he wanted to know what motivated this man, what secrets he held, where he came from, what made him get up in the morning, what he would die for…yes, the doctor intrigued him.

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[info]docjordan
2008-02-15 09:02 pm UTC (link)
"Oh it's an honor, I promise." Jordan smirked, then lifted a shoulder. "I'd be willing to do some tests on you, see if I can figure out what mutated and how. I wouldn't wish to replicate it though, I think one of you running around is enough." He chuckled and took another swig of his whiskey. He eyed Drake for a moment, trying to figure out what his age could be, looking for any signs, he drew a blank of course. With the way Drake talked he could be anywhere from 60 to a few millennium. Jordan always figured that millennium old people would be a bit more...suave...well that was Hollywood vampires for ya.

He listened to Drake talk, flipping him his new card as he laid the rejected down on the table. He managed his own, keeping a straight face as his hand wasn't all that great but it wasn't pitiful either. In a game against many opponents he probably wouldn't be the worst loser, but against just Drake, he probably would be the loser. Jordan chuckled, "Seems to me she's a bit over conscience of herself." He lifted a shoulder, "Probably needs to be broke in so she'll loosen up a bit and wear more revealing clothes for your pleasure and others that happen to run about in the rafters as well."

He eyed the chips, then tossed in $150.00. "Match and up you $50." He flicked his gaze back up to Drake's eyes. Sooner or later he would figure out when Drake bluffed or not, surely.

"Yeah, I'm not all that picky with hair color. Just as long as they have a little meat on their bones I should be fine. Boney people are hard on the eyes and pelvis." He smirked a little and lifted a shoulder. "Not picky about age either, as long as they look good and are...somewhat willing."

Jordan could nearly feel those brains trying to figure him out. Those eyes were on him, watching everything. Drake and he were some alike it seemed, always watching always studying, wondering and a little curious about people. Not that Jordan would ever admit to that though.

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[info]bengal
2008-02-16 05:42 am UTC (link)
"Day after we leave Hawaii okay wif you, Doc? I'll pop in and let you give me the once over, aye?!", he chatted, before swigging his whiskey and tossing a few more chips into he pile on the table,"Match you and raise to $250.00", he leaned back, "Nope. No experimentin', Doc! I'm one of a kind!"

When the doc spoke of Boomer, Drake's face lit up, "Break in Booma? Ahahaha! I'm not sure that's possible, mate!", he guffawed. He held up his hand and made a fist, "I, myself, have the strength of about 40 strong men...", he leaned forward as if to speak intimately, "...and I would be hard pressed to even think about touching Booma if she didn't want to be touched, boyo". He took a small drink of whiskey and ran the bottom of the bottle up and down his bare torso... "Then there is Nikita, but she's probably a tough one to seduce too. She can shapeshift. Get her nervous and you're kissing an alligator...know what I mean, mate?", he nibbled a mozzerella stick, "Then we have Vivvy", he sighed, "I spent some quality time wif her in Paris, but I wasn't meself really...or maybe I was more meself...who knows", he lookedover atthe doc, "Vivvy, the lieutnant, can send out these calming pheromones...made me as docile as a neutered poodle she did".

He chuckled deeply and stood up. "Be right back, Doc. I have to drain my main vein", he joked. He tucked his cards where the towel was gathered around his waist and strolled into the bathroom.

"Ahhhhh...that's bettah!", he announced as he reentered the room and plopped back down in his chair. Pulling the cards out of his towel he looked up at the doc and asked,"Where were we now? Oh yes...beddable beauties onboard!", he swigged his whiskey, "Now, I'm not sure how wide your particular interests run, mate, but we have a few hot blokes onboard as well...Alex, he's the long-haired boy with the fast speech and great ass and Kesh, he's tight-bodied boy in the bubble...but, yeah, they are both bloody straight as a pin, so I gotta respect that. The Kesh boy is kinda kick ass...think he'd be brilliant to have some fun on the town wif".

Drake paused to take a drink and eat a few buffalo wings, then he looked at Doc Jordan and smiled...just looked him over a bit and sighed and then he spoke, "I've done alot of talking, mate. Tell me something about yourself. I'm curious. Where are you from? How did you come to join Captain Nate and his merry band of muties?".


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[info]docjordan
2008-02-16 01:26 pm UTC (link)
"Sure, I'm free." Jordan pulled out his palm pilot and scheduled Drake in to his monotonous schedule. Not that he really needed the contraption, sometimes it came in handy. After all it was a gift, he never turned down gifts. Tossing the few more chips in Jordan raised a brow, "So how bad did I beat you?" He smirked at Drake and shook his head, "No, no experimenting."

He chuckled and eyed Drake, "Are you saying that you can't get her to want you to touch her?" Jordan had no fantasies about the cook, a woman that could knock him back to his maker wasn't really his cup of tea. Call him paranoid but he just didn't feel up to the challenge of keeping himself on his toes that much. He shook his head, shape shifting he wouldn't mind, as long as she kept it to herself and not while they were in the middle of things. Pheromones, he could probably deal with those. After all every human needed a bit of release, sooner or later the lieutenant would as well. Just depended on who she sent that kind of pheromone to.

As Drake left, Jordan grabbed his bottle. Settling back into the chair he took a nice long draft, nearly draining the bottle. He smirked and eyed the liquid at the bottom. He could feel the effects, but he could still rattle off the medical terms of everything he was going through, all the processes of how the alcohol got into one's system and then back out. He wasn't near as drunk enough as he wanted to be, but he didn't really need to be drunk either. Looking up he watched Drake come back, then grabbed a wing to eat and an eclair. "What about the captain?"

At the question or request, Jordan made a small sound in the back of his throat and looked away. He hated talking about himself, it seemed far more intimate than anything else, even sex and open heart surgery. "I'm from Juneau, Alaska, went to Duke University for my degree." He lifted a shoulder, "I moved around a lot, just landed here for now."

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[info]bengal
2008-02-17 11:17 pm UTC (link)
"Well, let's see how bad you beat me, eh, Doc?", Drake chuckled. He liked this man. "I've got a hot threesome here", he grinned wickedly and winked adding, "...all buggering each other, I'm sure". He paused remembering a few of his favorite threesomes...the Svensson sisters that cold night in St, Paul, that young couple that wanted to try something new, the coked up models...those girls were insane, the two young waiters he got drunk at that seaside resort...ahhhhh, memories...he snapped out of his revery and smiled at the doc, "So, What do you have, Jordan? Did ye beat me threesome?", he asked.

He laughed that the doc was needling him about his ability to seduce Boomer, replying, "I can usually get anyone I want one way or anotha, doc, but, I like Booma enough to let her make her own choices...and she seems to have chosen the Kesh boy...as have a handful of the young women on this ship", Drake's eyebrow raised, "His tadger must be a foot long, eh?!".

When the doc asked about the captain, the handsome feral finger-combed his blond hair and chuckled, "Ahhhhhh! The captain. Our most eligible bachelor, eh? You fancy him, do you? Tall, built, handsome, sexy...and sources tell me he's hung like a Clydesdale...I can see why you'd be interested", Drake took a long swig and drained his bottle, "...seems his availability just decreased I hear. He's enchanted wif this little thief he caught in Romania. Made 'er one of us. I 'aven't seen 'er yet. She must be a right stunner"

Standing up, Drake walked over to his trunk and produced another few bottles of whiskey... "Jack Daniels. 'ope it's okay...I only had two bottles of the really good stuff", he asked as he brought the bottles to the table and handed one over to the doc.

Ahhhhh, Ol Doc Jordan doesn't much like talking about himself. Kinda hurried through that, 'e did.. The doc's discomfort gave Drake a little thrill...it was almost like a dominant sexual thrill...if he weren't careful, he'd give himself away by pitching a tent in his towel. "So, Alaska. Neva been there, Doc. Did you grow up there? When did you discover your mutation? Evah plan to go back?"


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[info]docjordan
2008-02-21 04:26 am UTC (link)
Jordan frowned and laid down two pair with a shake of his head. "Hardly beat anything. Good thing we're not playing strip poker or I'd be losing even with you just in the towel." He smirked a little, leaning back in the chair, stretching his long legs out.

He raised a brow and shook his head, "Seems like you're giving up far too easily. That's my opinion." He lifted a shoulder, "Might be, haven't examined him so I wouldn't know. If I do I'll let you know what you're up against."

Jordan snorted, "I don't really fancy a particular person. Everyone is a source of pleasure for me, just depends on what I want at the moment and if I'm willing to put up with them to get what I want." He lifted a shoulder. The doctor had never claimed to be soft or loving at all. "Must be, to keep her at bay from the rest of the wolves."

As Jordan laid eyes on two more bottles he hurriedly drained the one and took the other offered to him. "It's fine, they all make you the same drunk." He smirked a little and took a sip of the Jack. "Always wondered whether the Jack was the bottle or the drink, either can give a hefty blow."

He picked up the cards and shuffled them after he had set the new bottle down. He smirked and dealt them both a new hand. Picking up his cards he studied them intently, mulling over whether or not he really wanted to answer the questions. They were harmless enough, if answered correctly. Was he drunk enough to answer poorly?

Eying the bottles he then looked back at Drake. "It's cold. I did, and I'm not quite sure when." He paused on this last one, "Nothing to go back for." He muttered and took another swig of the whiskey. "My family was mutants too, got back one day, the house was burning to the ground. Haven't seen them since, they weren't sure whether there were bodies in there...too much ash to really sift through." He lifted a shoulder and took another swig. "What about you, Mr. Curious. What's your story?"

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[info]bengal
2008-02-21 11:39 pm UTC (link)
“Everyone’s a source of pleasure for you, eh, Doc?”, Drake queried with a wicked grin. “Well”, he leaned forward and clinked his whiskey bottle with the doctor’s, “…you are my kinda guy, mate!”. A perverse look came over his face and he whispered in a low gravelly voice, “I like you, so I’ll let you in on a secret…Inga…Swedish bird…only 21 years old. She’s blonde, built, beautiful, brilliant titties, tightest tang you’ll evah poke…guaranteed, face of an angel…and she’s a fuckin’ nympho, mate!”. Drake was so beside himself he couldn’t sit still…he jumped up and walked a circle around his chair and sit back down again, “Now, I ‘aven’t even gotten to the very best part! What could be bettah than all of that? You’re askin’ yourself…3 times all of that! She triplicates! Her mutie power is that she can triplicate herself! Mate, I can’t even explain the Heaven of her bed! That’ll keep those extra hands busy!”. He took an extra long drink from his bottle and let himself fall back in his chair as if the very thought of Inga had drained him.

After a moment of silence, Drake leaned in and scraped his winnings from the table and piled them in neat stacks. He collected the new cards the doc had dealt him and with a grimace threw two back, muttering, “Need two, dealer”.

The feral mutant’s expression changed completely after Jordan asked, “What’s your story”. The friendly hazel eyes took on a cold, predatory cast…a cruel shadow played across his face, “So you want to know me story, do ya, mate? I’ll tell ya me story gladly”, he dropped the éclair he was eating and brushed his hands off, before starting. One gulp of whiskey and he began, “Me mum died when I was born, leaving me to the tender mercies of me mutie Da, but the joke was on me...he had no mercy...none at all. As soon as I was able to walk and talk, I was trained in the art of the pickpocket. Me Da at on his arse and did nothing, but collect the money I brought him...he ate sumptuously and dressed like a gentleman, while I wore rags and was fed barely enough to keep me alive. Oh, and then there were the beatings...at least one every evening...didn't have to be a reason...sometimes he'd wake me up for an encore when he was in his drink, bloody bastard. As the years went on, Dear Da filled the house with whores and spawned with them, further filling our charming abode with darling nippers. Now Da wa rolling in money...you see, his mutie power was a sort of 'super charisma'...he could suggest that people do things and they did them. His whores worked for him and his children picked pockets. He hated children and was rough with all of us, but even as I grew, he saved his most savage blows for me", he swigged his whiskey and winked at the Doc, "Keeping up with me, mate?", he chuckled a bit oddly. "Now,where was I? Ah yes, well...things went on about the same way for years...Da got rich and enjoyed his whores and continued to starve and beat his children, meself especially...and then it happened...yours truely started going through puberty...", he grinned wickedly, "...not only did me tadger get bigger and lot'sa rubbing, but I got me mutie powers...", he ran a finger across his lower lip, "...strangely enough, I also became immune to me father's power of persuasion. I found this out one night when he gave me an order and I felt no need to carry it out. Imagine me joy", a huge smile spread across Drake's face, "I leaned in and whispered to the old fuck, 'Go bugger yourself, you bloody git!', and then I went to my room...I knew he would follow me and I didn't wantthe little ones to see what I had planned". Leaning close in towards the Doc, Drake spoke as if he were speaking the sweetest poetry, "He came into my room in a rage and demanded I kneel and take my beating. I still treasure the surprised look on his face when I smiled and said, 'I don't think so'...then, I ripped that bloody bastard's throat out....", he took a long drink of whiskey, "...and all the whores and pickpockets and devlispawn little muties lived happily ever after...the end".

"Oh...I'm in for $50.00", he hurriedly added after his story, tossing two chips into the center of the table with a wink.




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