What now is I tell you that my name isn’t lady. It’s Captain Thrace to you, at least until you can prove yourself worthy of getting to call me anything else. Got it?
Obviously they didn’t teach you any manners in the Colonies. [She walks back to her chair, settles in nicely, and leans in.] And speaking of...which one used to claim you? The more I deal with you the more I’m not so sure you’re a Gemenon brat after all. Not spouting enough religion and the gods and blah, blah, blah. [As if she’s not the one with figures of Aphrodite and Artemis she prays to sometimes. Nope. Not her, you must have the wrong Kara Thrace.]
[She cocks an eyebrow at the way he eats, all sudden energy and Way Too Much Enthusiasm for somebody who was beaten up not even hours before. She tries to not place too much stock in it, tries to get the picture of him doing the same thing, remembering his words, “When you’re starving, anything tastes good.” Yeah, well, maybe he’s onto something, or maybe the kid’s just a typical fifteen-year-old boy. Something in her gut tells her otherwise, though.
But damn if he doesn’t know how to work the charming grin. Ugh, kids, she thinks with a grunt.]
Good with your hands and a fast learner, huh? Those skills sure didn’t keep your ass from getting captured, so what am I s’posed to do with that? Maybe Chief’s got a job for ya. Here I was, all hopeful and optimistic you’d have a little more to offer than that.
[She sizes him up and down, trying to figure out just what she wants to do with him, what approach to take, and so on. He doesn’t seem to be responding to the beat-downs, obviously, but she isn’t afraid to do a little persuading with her fists, either, 15-year-old or not.]
no subject
Obviously they didn’t teach you any manners in the Colonies. [She walks back to her chair, settles in nicely, and leans in.] And speaking of...which one used to claim you? The more I deal with you the more I’m not so sure you’re a Gemenon brat after all. Not spouting enough religion and the gods and blah, blah, blah. [As if she’s not the one with figures of Aphrodite and Artemis she prays to sometimes. Nope. Not her, you must have the wrong Kara Thrace.]
[She cocks an eyebrow at the way he eats, all sudden energy and Way Too Much Enthusiasm for somebody who was beaten up not even hours before. She tries to not place too much stock in it, tries to get the picture of him doing the same thing, remembering his words, “When you’re starving, anything tastes good.” Yeah, well, maybe he’s onto something, or maybe the kid’s just a typical fifteen-year-old boy. Something in her gut tells her otherwise, though.
But damn if he doesn’t know how to work the charming grin. Ugh, kids, she thinks with a grunt.]
Good with your hands and a fast learner, huh? Those skills sure didn’t keep your ass from getting captured, so what am I s’posed to do with that? Maybe Chief’s got a job for ya. Here I was, all hopeful and optimistic you’d have a little more to offer than that.
[She sizes him up and down, trying to figure out just what she wants to do with him, what approach to take, and so on. He doesn’t seem to be responding to the beat-downs, obviously, but she isn’t afraid to do a little persuading with her fists, either, 15-year-old or not.]