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@v13nashira
commonplace; vipe sits next to his plate, quietly updating jay on what he missed during his sleep shift, and jay’s eyes follow along sleepily. most of it is boring— readouts of the distance traveled, news updates, traffic that could impact their gravity systems if not handled well— and jay barely skims through the digitalized letters, his attention left somewhere in his bunk.
a work order dings towards the end of the update and he resists the urge to groan.
90% of the ships problems could be fixed by a normal crew member if they paid attention to half the things he said, but they don’t, and somehow jaehyung has become nothing more than a glorified handy-man when he’s in between projects.
“broken door, room F,” he reads aloud and then has to bodily stop himself from slamming his head into the table.
of course it’s nashira’s room.
“vipe, respond that we’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”
the little droid yips and a makes a whooshing sound to signify the outgoing message. jay rubs his hand across his face and tries not to look too frustrated as he throws out the remainder of his food, appetite lost.
hate is a strong word, one he uses sparingly as it always leads to more problems than not but christ, does he fucking hate nashira. her existence is an insult to everything vantablack stands for— not to mention her bullshit reasoning for joining the crew in the first place.
“c’mon vipe,” he says grudgingly, making his way down the corridors with his fist clenched in his pocket and a hundred ways to accidentally airlock her from her own refresher cubicle.