My first update in a month, and it's Assignment One from the Starfighter Fanclub. Eh, suck it up. Participating in this shit is fuuuuuun. :'D

[Start Transmission]
[Mission: To author the scene depicting your Fighter and Navigator's first meeting]


[MARCH HARE]
"Son of a bitch," Artist cursed under his breath. He missed his assignment. He fucking missed the assignment. And he wasn't happy.

"Late? This does not bode well for your future with us," the commander had growled out. "Your partner has come and gone. Nonetheless..." Gritting his teeth, Artist listened as the door opened with a small 'hiss'.

Lounging on one of the beds was a girl, cigarette holder held haphazardly between her index and middle fingers. Scrunching his nose up a bit, Artist's one blue eye focused on the girl.

"I'm March Hare. It's nice to meet you," he ground out.


[MAD HATTER]
Scripture laced her lips with the tip of her tongue, bending over a little and putting out her cigarette in the tray on the nightstand next to her pale grey lamp fixture. She gave a soft hum as she stood up, just five inches taller than his five foot ten.

"Well, look what the Cheshire cat dragged in...." She stood tall in front of him, straight as a board. She brought her hand up and stroked her index finger over Artist's bandaged eye.

"I'm Mad Hatter; in private, you can call me Scripture... though I prefer when we're out and about that you call me Maddy." She turned around, her back facing him like cold brick stones.

"It's good that you've finally shown yourself here. Taking your time? You're a Navigator, not a pansy... We could have been attacked." She crossed her arms and turned around again. She smiled.

"But that doesn't matter!" She grabbed him, and his feet left the floor.

"March Hare! Can I call you Marie? (mar-eh-ie) I swear I was having a fit when you weren't here..." She shook her head. Her excitement obviously got best of her.


[MARCH HARE]
Artist kicked his feet a little, trying to make contact with the floor once more. Holy fuck, she was tall!

"Hello, Madhatter. Or Scripture. Whichever-the-fuck I'm supposed to call you. No you cannot call me Marie. If you must, call me Artist." He snorted, and flailed around a little more. Fuck. "And I'm sorry I was fucking late. I overslept, okay?" With a sneer, his knee met with Scripture's hip.

"You can let me down any time now." Somewhere in the back of his mind, he couldn't help but think he cursed just a little too much. "Any-fucking-time now."


[MAD HATTER]
She smiled, unfazed by his kicking.

"Little Bunny, you can kick and scream all you want but I won't let you down. Daddy's gonna take care of you..." She giggled. Yeah, she said Daddy, but that's only because she was a boy. At least, that's what she thinks. Nothing -- not even her enlarged breasts -- could change her mind. In her head, she was male. She let down Artist.

"Now, I already took the liberty of picking beds for you and me. I have the right side of the room and you have left side of the room." She nodded and padded his shoulders. We're going to become really good friends...." She smiled sinisterly at the last comment.


[MARCH HARE]
"Yeah, well, fuck you." Artist spat, walking over to his side of the room and plopping down on the bed with a small 'huff'. Within seconds he had a cigarette out and lit, closing his eye as he took a drag. Only two words were running through his head: 'Crazy bitch.'


[End Transmission]

.... is gonna kill me for editing her shit ._.;;

In other news, OH MY GOD, I GET TO FUCKING MEET HYDE *swoonfaintdie*