Memoir: 20410224

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2041.02.24

Ramie~
…I crossed a line today. I saw the line.
The line sat there, then a pilot triple dog dared me to
punch him in the face. I didn’t. You would be so proud
of me. I like to think it was those years living with your
insufferable crap that kept me from popping a senior
pilot in the mouth. I smacked him. Hard. The only thing
standing between this Saggie jerk’s dental work is one
little comment. I am one Promise joke away. One.
I don’t know what I would have done if he’d taken a
swing. Standing in the shitter in a fluffy robe, faced
with about 180 pounds of taller, pissed off viper jock
isn’t the best place to be on a good day. With brass
knuckles. I do have those, but they’re wedged in the
bottom of a pair of Kamis, and I’m fairly certain they’d
feed me my own ass if I went after a guy. It’s not
like this is a back alley in Nippon. I haven’t seen
Ramon in four days. I think he’s avoiding me. I guess
the wardrobe is working. It reminds him too much of
Promise. These clothes still smell like her. I’m going to
dry clean the frak out of them, if I can get my mitts
on someone from support who’s willing to do it.

I don’t know why I thought this would be
easy. Just a couple of weeks out of my time to app-
ease the patriarch into laying off the trust fund. I’m
starting to lose my grip on what exactly it is that’s going
on here. It would be incredibly helpful if you were
around to weigh in. Ramon doesn’t like to have his time
wasted. Is this really a gong show? Is it just some
ploy by the government that Ramon’s jumped on in an
effort to get the right people in the room all at once?
Locked on this ship, it’s not like they can run off. He’s
probably using this as some sort of vehicle to attempt to
negotiate a goverment contract for BSS’s space div.
I’m going to feel like one epic asshole if the games
I’ve been playing with him are really just the games he’s
been playing with me. Yes, Ramie. I could just stop
playing, but then I wouldn’t very well be a Blue, would
I? I’ll stop when the boat docks and I hop the frak
off this circus ride. I’m going straight to Tottori and throw-
ing back the biggest bucket of alcohol I can find. Then,
I’m going to get a sunburn, have something tattooed, and
max out Ramon’s Gods damned platinum on a racer that
I’ll probably wreck in 20 minutes. That
has to improve this mourning bullshit.
Santi