"You're there to look pretty and nonthreatening, essentially."
Hugh doesn't butter up the phrasing - that is the plan, here. Cassius is their ambassador, essentially, here to make it clear that he's only interested in existing, not in taking over the ship or eating everyone alive. To be - well. Not meek, but certainly inoffensive. To be what Caelan can't.
Hugh's steps are... not quick. Not eager. Almost as if he'd like to take as much time getting up to the Captain and the no doubt quickly called meeting up there as possible, soak in the pleasure of Cassius' company before anything else can try to ruin it. And it will. They'll try. He hopes they don't get too rude, too nasty - not with him, he's used to that, but with Cassius. Hugh has enough trouble keeping his temper in check without two lives he gives a shit about on the line.
(His own is not included in that number.)
They're at the elevator quicker than he likes. He takes his time pushing in the buttons.
"Just be friendly, they'll love that. Don't take anything rude they say to heart. Half of them are morons and the other half are badly raised, with a slim margin of decency in there somewhere. There's a man - wears a doctor's coat, ties his hair back in this ridiculous messy bun? Friendly sort. Stand near him."
S i n g h.
Hugh won't go into his personal grudges against the man at the moment, even if just referring to that asshole gets his weird blood up. He's a goddamn show-off, with his esteem and his friendliness and his medical degree, sure, but he'll be kind. One of the few assured warm presences in the whole goddamn room.
"His name is Hieronymus Singh." A sharp little scoff. Hieronymus. God. "He'll talk your ear off, I'm sure. Never shuts up."
no subject
Hugh doesn't butter up the phrasing - that is the plan, here. Cassius is their ambassador, essentially, here to make it clear that he's only interested in existing, not in taking over the ship or eating everyone alive. To be - well. Not meek, but certainly inoffensive. To be what Caelan can't.
Hugh's steps are... not quick. Not eager. Almost as if he'd like to take as much time getting up to the Captain and the no doubt quickly called meeting up there as possible, soak in the pleasure of Cassius' company before anything else can try to ruin it. And it will. They'll try. He hopes they don't get too rude, too nasty - not with him, he's used to that, but with Cassius. Hugh has enough trouble keeping his temper in check without two lives he gives a shit about on the line.
(His own is not included in that number.)
They're at the elevator quicker than he likes. He takes his time pushing in the buttons.
"Just be friendly, they'll love that. Don't take anything rude they say to heart. Half of them are morons and the other half are badly raised, with a slim margin of decency in there somewhere. There's a man - wears a doctor's coat, ties his hair back in this ridiculous messy bun? Friendly sort. Stand near him."
S i n g h.
Hugh won't go into his personal grudges against the man at the moment, even if just referring to that asshole gets his weird blood up. He's a goddamn show-off, with his esteem and his friendliness and his medical degree, sure, but he'll be kind. One of the few assured warm presences in the whole goddamn room.
"His name is Hieronymus Singh." A sharp little scoff. Hieronymus. God. "He'll talk your ear off, I'm sure. Never shuts up."