You are now Redglare again and your target is sending you as many mixed signals as she has stupid eight-sided dice lying around her captain's cabin.
She summons you from the galley to run an errand for her, pointing and calling you "you" as if she's forgotten your name.
The next day you deliver a report from a senior officer to her, and she smirks as she snatches it from your hands, saying, "Thank you, Terezi" as if the word is an old joke between you.
She rallies the crew with reminders of the Alternian officials they've outrun and legislacerators they've murdered, sweeping the crowd with her gaze and then looking you straight in the eye far longer than necessary.
Later that night you sweep the deck and she walks right by you without a second glance.
You're almost certain she's messing with you now. One day she'll single you out for a special duty with a smirk on her face, and the next she she'll act like you don't exist. You're beginning to hate it.
(Platonically, of course. Anything else would be less than professional, and you are the epitome of professional, in your ragged and dirty sailor uniform, swabbing the deck on your hands and knees as gamblignants sing crude shanties on the stern.)
In any case, you can't count on the element of surprise anymore. She might know exactly why you're here, which means you're going to have to be awfully careful and have a good plan to capture her.
Redglare: Keep wondering. (FILL: TEAM JOHN<3ROSE)
She summons you from the galley to run an errand for her, pointing and calling you "you" as if she's forgotten your name.
The next day you deliver a report from a senior officer to her, and she smirks as she snatches it from your hands, saying, "Thank you, Terezi" as if the word is an old joke between you.
She rallies the crew with reminders of the Alternian officials they've outrun and legislacerators they've murdered, sweeping the crowd with her gaze and then looking you straight in the eye far longer than necessary.
Later that night you sweep the deck and she walks right by you without a second glance.
You're almost certain she's messing with you now. One day she'll single you out for a special duty with a smirk on her face, and the next she she'll act like you don't exist. You're beginning to hate it.
(Platonically, of course. Anything else would be less than professional, and you are the epitome of professional, in your ragged and dirty sailor uniform, swabbing the deck on your hands and knees as gamblignants sing crude shanties on the stern.)
In any case, you can't count on the element of surprise anymore. She might know exactly why you're here, which means you're going to have to be awfully careful and have a good plan to capture her.
> Redglare: Come up with a plan.