Starfire had done her best (rather unfairly) to ignore Jinx's presence thus far, perhaps unfairly. She had no desire to fight her formal rival, and she never had, but why cross paths and cause tension?
Now, however, the situation was different. Her only friend from home was gone, and many of her other friendships forged here had ended in repoddings as well. There were very few people left that she counted as friends, and the situation had taken its toll. A warrior whose powers rely on their ability to feel joy and confidence is hindered in a negative state like this.
So, rather unusually, she walks to her destination rather than flying. Perhaps it is worth it to approach a rival after all. When she arrives, she knocks.
"Jinx? Are you here?"
Brenda moved with slow steps down the halls of the crew quarters. Her whole body ached, screaming at her for the marathon she'd forced it through only a few hours ago, but her mind was still too loud to let her just lay down and sleep.
There were dozens of images she couldn't hope to wipe from her mind, a hundred tiny questions about what would happen now and what she should do from here ringing in her ears, and on top of all of it Querl was shutting out visitors. It left her terrified and numb all at once. Not being able to see him, to know he was alright after everything, just made her chest ache but she was too tired to muster the fit of rage she wanted to throw, too overwhelmed and emotionally raw to try to talk to him even if she could see him, probably...
She rubbed at her eyes as she turned the last corner on her route. Once medical had released her she had begun walking without a second thought, remembering the way with remarkable clarity for how long it had been since she'd made the trip.
Brenda lifted her left hand for three quick knocks on Paco's door, her right shoulder still sore from being overworked. She was sure she looked a wreck, hair barely brushed, thin and bruised and bag-eyed. Belatedly, she wondered if she should have sent him a warning message first instead of just showing up to see him looking at least half as bad as she felt. She'd never liked coming to him injured and upset back when they were in school, doing it again now was more than a touch painful.
The door slid open and Brenda forced an awkward smile to her face to keep the tears welling up at bay. Actually seeing him in front of her, close enough to touch, hit her like a brick in the chest.
"Hey you." she managed after a second. "Miss me?"
The venue itself was a strange place to discuss what they were discussing. It was a grave matter and they'd known it would be a grave matter the moment they got the mission briefing, even if it left out certain key details. (They knew who they were meant to do a favor for, but only now did they find out what that favor was.)
That was why the place it was being discussed was so odd.
People could live their whole lives without expecting to meet a group of angels in a bowling alley.
They could also live their whole lives without expecting to be asked to do with Grif, Kaya, Sherlock, Azula, and John were being asked to do.
[ooc: posting order: Grif, Kaya, Sherlock, John, Azula.]
The fauxbellion had gone just as planned.
Allenby and everyone else that had 'rebeled' against the Daligig had played their parts well, as had the ones that had put down the rebellion. Command and Council had gained some respect amongst the Daligig, and had been rewarded with more control over Stacy.
The 'rebelers' had been dragged off to the brig under the watchful eye of the Daligig, but had not stayed for long; Aibghalien's illusions had allowed them to leave with the Daligig being none the wiser. Unfortunately, they were paying a little more attention to the prisoners than had been expected.
The portal system (unknown to the Daligig) that Celena had set up allowed for easy access in and out of the Precinct. The prisoners were allowed out in shifts, under the supervision of other crewmembers, to do work repairing buildings in the City.
Also unknown to the Daligig, the repairs were largely a lie as well.
There was still a real rebellion to be had, and that would require weapons spread out in locations all over the City. It would also require less interference from Stacy. It was easy to make spaces to store said weaponry and to install jamming fields that Engineering had been working on under the guise of repairs.
The building that one small group was working on was unlike anything on Earth, and made completely of a very durable grey stone. The Daligig would pop in on occasion to check on the prisoners, but they never paid much attention to what was actually being done, content to leave if it looked enough like the prisoners were doing as they were told. It was clear the Daligig didn't think highly of their intelligence.
Grif had been tasked with supervising the group of five. The Daligig had made a check only five minutes before, and weren't due for another few hours.
It was the perfect time to investigate the slime that was on one of the walls, about knee-high. For those that were observant, the Ghyyl were rather slimy in appearance, and it was about the perfect height for a Ghyyl's arms.
Neuropathy sat to one side of Engingeering, dark save for the blue glow of the monitors on all sides displaying brainwaves and technical readouts. Above, trolleys hanging from the framework are sillouetted against the sporadic glow of neurons firing like so many shooting stars. Those who have never been to this area before might wonder why they've never bothered, but to those who have it's just another day at the office.
- Tags:!location: neuropathy, !status: closed, aibghalien marsai, clef, cole macgrath, hououji fuu, ian chesterton, jono starsmore, kaya, naoto shirogane, river song, sarah kerrigan
It was rare to spot the Daligig outside of restricted zones, and even more rare to find one of the hidden entrances. They knew the ship better than the crew, and purposely chose what times they utilized said entrances to minimize the chances of being seen.
Rachel and Aximili had hit the jackpot, though.
A lone Daligig walked through the pods in the pod cavern, confident that she was not being watched or followed. No one ever spent time in that area of Stacy. She didn't even have any Kessek bodyguards to protect her. She headed for a slime-covered wall, spoke a command, and waited for a panel to appear. She then put her hand on the panel for several seconds.
|| Biometrics accepted. You are authorized to enter. ||
She walked through the opening that materialized, the door closing automatically behind her and disappearing completely into the wall as if it had never been there, along with the panel.
When Stacy had stopped at a planet to allow for a short run for supplies, Sherlock had jumped at the opportunity to get off the ship. It wasn't so much that he hated the ship--he was still utterly fascinated with it, in fact, and exploring everything he could about it--but it was an opportunity to see an entirely different world. Getting a feel for all the kinds of possibilities that could be out there would help him adjust to the surprises he might find on actual missions.
He wasn't the only one that had wanted to stretch his legs. John had tagged along, of course, and so had Sirius, who Sherlock sincerely hoped would keep the flirting to a minimum this time. There also was a stranger, a woman that had introduced herself as Patsy, who apparently had a habit of wearing a cat mask. Sherlock had thought it absolutely ridiculous--until they got down to the planet, where it turned out that garish clothing was rather commonplace, meaning that she fit in with the locals. (Even then, it was still a little ridiculous.)
It was, incredibly, unbelievably, a world with actual magic. Not horribly different than he and John's own, but with everything powered by magic and an untold number of magical species, like trolls, goblins, dwarves, elves, and fairies. Skyscrapers existed but were sprawling structures that seemed to defy the laws of physics, cars drove through the streets--but they hovered off the ground and left behind sparkly exhaust, and right now, it seemed very fashionable for them to be in the stylized shapes of pumpkins.
At the moment, they were all walking through a magical marketplace, where individuals in colorful clothes of a variety of species were hawking rather incredible wares like magic mirrors and foods that apparently prepared themselves for dinner. Behind them, they were carting along a hovering cart for the supplies they were getting--apparently the ship's supplies of magical ingredients and implements needed to be replenished so that there were some for those who were magically-inclined to have them on hand if they were needed.
"This is..." He wasn't going to say it was incredible. He had a whole unimpressed facade to maintain. "Improbable."
And yes, very interesting.
A drunken pixie flew over their heads in wobbly circles and threw up fairy dust all over a very grim-faced troll, who immediately started shaking a fist at her and cursing.
"Oh, the whimsy," he added sarcastically, although he did look amused.
||Attention, Attention. The following personnel please report to the Observation Deck. Attention, Attention. The following personnel please report to the Observation Deck.
When the summoned gathered, mission information was displayed on the Obs Deck for them to see:
Planet Designation: Hendersus Villae
Status: Terrestrial, H-class
Non-sentient life: Minimal flora, aggressive nonsentient fauna.
Semi-sentient life: No
Sentient life: Yes
Water: 25% of planet's surface
Climate: Primarily volcanic with frequent ash and lightning storms, dry and hot at volcanically active equator, temperate seas to the north and south poles.
Landscape: Variable. Much of the planet's landmasses are constantly being reworked by lava flows.
Air: Normoxic concentration: 31% oxygen, 60% nitrogen, 2% xenon, 4% trace gases, such as hydrogen, krypton, and argon.
Air Pressure: 93.8 kPa (kilopascals) = 13.6 psi (pounds per square inch)
Sky: Pale red, when visible.
Sun: Class G yellow star, distant orbit and dim light.
Warnings: Not suitable for crew incapable of flight, or without superhuman endurance.
Mission: Search and rescue Zarom Ghartha, missing GIA wizard, last seen en-route to investigate severe magical disturbance detected in the area of the planet. Crew is advised that native fauna is likely to be antagonistic, native sentients unfit to assist beyond the offering of information.
Kleptomania (from Greek: κλέπτειν, kleptein, "to steal", and μανία, "mania"). The irresistible urge to steal items of trivial value.
Well...not always trivial. In fact Jinx preferred they not be that way. But ever since she was a child she found it difficult not to simply take things she had a fondness for. Sparkly things, shiny things, soft comfortable or brightly colored things. So being a thief came naturally to her.
But she wouldn't classify herself as a Kleptomanic. No no. She believed that she was more controlled then that. She had a stronger will.
She also was incredibly greedy.
So when she found a warehouse stocked to the gills with with a wide assortment of items it was impossible to ignore. So many useful things, or things that could potentially be useful. And food! So much food that she hadn't had to eat the slop that Stacy provided in a good long time.
But after awhile the owner of the warehouse became aware of her presence, and had begun systematically upgrading security around the warehouse. Booby traps, locks. Even trying to change locations. But that just enticed the pink haired thief more. How could she resist driving him nuts? And once she found out that it was Howard who owned the warehouse it became a game to her.
And so while Howard and Diana were both away on mission Jinx decided now was the perfect time to restock her supplies and thwart whatever new trick he had devised to keep her out. The last one had been his friend who appeared to be made out of stone, but when Jinx arrived he'd been passed out drunk.
A bit of hex magic popped the lock on the door and she slid in silently eager to see what treasure awaited her tonight.
Finding Orc in the Media Library is something that strikes Howard as just about as weird as walking in on hippos wearing tutus and dancing ballet - certainly unusual enough to make him doubletake, but given Stacy and her Stacy-ness, not totally out of the realm of possibilities. Stranger things have happened than the illiterate taking a sudden interest in libraries.
Howard, for his part, is looking for more driver's ed material, so once he's located that he wanders over to the space on the floor Orc's occupying and takes a seat next to him. He has a the numbers to punch into his data pad and bring up some nice instructional videos on defensive driving, although for the life of him he still can't find a good instruction manual for a stick-shift car.
"Hey, man, what's-" Ah, Orc's wearing headphones. Probably can't hear him. Howard taps Orc on the shoulder. "What are you doing around here?"
In the middle of one of Stacy's nights, a distress beacon comes in. A desperate S.O.S. shows up on the screens. Source: one of Stacy's mission shuttles, the one that went to the small colony planet 'Eden' to answer a distress call.
|| Crematia, Goliath and Jorge. Please report to the Observation Deck for a rescue mission. ||
The rescue crew has little time to react and prepare. Within a matter of minutes, the available hands on deck are equipped and stuffed into an unarmed shuttle, then sent down to the planet surface. The shuttle lands a few hundred yards from the radio tower, the source of the beacon. The original crew is still inside the tower.
And between the tower and the shuttle, fifty strange, malformed beasts loll about in the baking desert sun. They're the pinkish color and texture of uncooked plucked chickens, the size of bears and armed with mouths large enough to fit a dog in. Drool dribbles from their fangs in thick ropes. Their hands are unsettlingly humanoid, with six long fingers that taper into a needle point. They don't look even a little concerned about the shuttle.
[OOC: I will be traveling tomorrow, so please feel free to NPC your own monsters and cause carnage. This is your chance to get your character mutilated, or have them save the day with a heroic gesture! Threadjacking and teaming up is encouraged! The monsters are intelligent enough to learn from imitation, but otherwise just lunge at you and bite you. They can also mimic sounds, but they are no longer flammable. Alas. If you want me to NPC for you, drop me a line or tell me in the subject title.]
Even with a rebellion looming and everything it entails - planning and plotting, information gathering, getting the new crew up to speed - things on Stacy continue as normal for now. They have to, until everything is set. People still go about their day to day tasks, the departments continue to do their work, and those who fight still continue to train...including the Rangers.
As of late, however, Jamie has been finding himself, well, a wee bit bored with the standard training sessions. There's only so often that they can run through the usual practices without it all becoming a little too monotonous and the sessions blurring together. What they needed was a good fight, with maybe a few unexpected twists and turns along the way. And after thinking it over for some time, Jamie thinks he may have an idea that might just work to make things more interesting.
He starts with sending a message
at a time slightly different than when training usually takes place, asking them to meet in the Sensoriums. Oh, he knows it means he may not get all the Rangers, not if they've other tasks to do. But even if he doesn't, fighting in smaller groups is still good practice. And, well...large groups might not work, given the setting he has in mind. After the message is sent, he steps inside, and the empty Sensorium he's chosen flickers, switching from a blank room to a large, old growth forest. It's peaceful, and relatively quiet, with the usual forest sounds one would expect in such a place. He doesn't morph, though, not yet. That can wait for everyone else to arrive. Instead, he settles in under a tree and leans against it, enjoying the peaceful part of things while he can.((OOC: Bendytimed to before to Devil Wouldn't Recognize You. Tags from Jamie may also come from the wontforgetyou account.))
After taking Sherlock Holmes to Med Bay, Kerrigan willingly went with Shoutarou to the Precinct. True, she had helped save Sherlock's life but hat didn't change the fact that she was the one who had tried to kill him-
a crime she freely admitted.
If the previous Captain were here Kerrigan could have solved them all a lot of trouble. She'd had an arrangement with him. If she ever became the Queen of Blades again he knew how to kill her quickly, preferably before too much blood was spilled. But Kennedy wasn't here. She had no way of knowing if he had informed anyone else of their arrangement.
Even if he had and even though it wasn't clear to Kerrigan, she wasn't the Queen of Blades. She hadn't murdered someone, despite the stab wounds. And she had not sprouted bladed wings and gone on a killing spree. She was quiet and cooperative, if reluctant to share more about what happened than she all ready had."He questioned what evidence we had against the Daligig. I... showed him telepathically. What they did to me. It was too much for him. He insulted me and I stabbed him repeatedly."
She showed no outward display of guilt. Her voice was flat. "Emotionless" was the word most would use to describe her. "Numb" was more accurate.
Howard doesn't like to share. Anyone who's known him long enough, and by long enough that would mean twenty minutes, would piece that together.
So while delivering some homemade jam to a friend might be, in the hands of others, a neighborly gesture, for Howard it's a lot more important than that. It's practically sacrificial. The jar in his backpack feels heavy, and each thump of it against his spine feels like a reminder of how many calories the stupid thing is. Howard picks up his pace and wishes he brought his bike.
Finally, he gets to the Cedric's room, and shuffles foot to foot in the time-honored Dance of Awkwardness while he waits for Cedric to answer his knocking.
Punchy sends a quick message off onto the comms, requesting that Maxine meet him soon underneath the Whomping Willow. He sends a mention that she can bring the monkey, too, and then sits back down under the tree in wait, wearing his nicest clothes (and by that, he means run through a washing machine recently).
There's a nice picnic basket set on a blanket in front of a tree for her, and a few glow sticks Punchy's stuck into a candleholder to light the night. More impressive than that, though, is that he got white Christmas lights all up in the Whomping Willow's branches, spread out in a giant heart.
Oh yeah. He's got showmanship. Some people would fight a dragon for their girl, but Punchy? Punchy fights a tree.
Central Park was a great rectangular mass of green growth haphazardly dumped next to the Kohaku River. Much like the ship on which it was situated, it gave Clef the odd sense of something having been lost in translation - that his surroundings were so far removed from their original context that his appreciation of them could only be coincidental.
For instance, the zoo consisted of a landscaped courtyard surrounded on all sides by man-made structures. Though secluded and luxuriant with growth, the empty buildings and walkways maintained little evidence of their original purpose while being only tangentially suitable as a place for three people to sit and talk. Yet, the Conservancy served their purposes well for a number of reasons.
"We should be able to talk freely here," Clef said, mostly for Presea's benefit, as he leaned his staff up against a wall. "In theory."
With the information they received from Zetta, the hack team arrives at Programming, armed with the tools they'll need to make digital avatars of themselves to go into Stacy's programming, as if it were virtual reality. Cortana again reminds them of the danger, mentioning that if they die in this world, they will die in the real world as well, and that any injuries will translate, though more minorly, to their physical forms.
The hackers close their eyes and sink into the digital world. When they open their eyes again, they are inside the lobby of an empty hotel. According to the AIs, they must explore the hotel and find where the files are, which will hopefully manifest themselves as physical cabinets but are more likely to show up as something much more esoteric.
"Good luck," Cortana wishes them, and the hack team sets off and splits into groups.