trans_9 | (no subject)

The 'Yaaaaaaah!' warned Harper too late for him to avoid getting tackled, but early enough for him to tense up so that hitting the ground hurt that tiny bit more. "Hey!" sounded like a pretty good response.

As did the kicking and scuffling. Harper may not be a trained fighter, but he was very good at fighting dirty.

Faith hit him in the chest with her clenched fist out of habit, which wouldn't actually cause him to crumble to dust, but it might knock the wind out of him pretty good.

She yelped as her hair got pulled, but managed to roll over on top of him and swung a fist at his face. "Who are you and what are you doing here?" she yelled.

Just at that moment, tendrils of pure energy appeared from the walls, wrapping around Faith and pinning her against the wall.

||Faith Lehane, cease and desist all violent actions towards Seamus Zelazny Harper or you will be further detained and given one Violation.||

"AUGHHH!" Faith shouted as she struggled. "What the fucking fuck is going on in this fucking place!"

She tried to slam her way out of the energy-tentacles, but it didn't quite work. "Dammit. Fine. I'll leave him alone. And let me go, I'm not into that kind of thing!"

The fuck? First the bitch tackled him, then she punched him (twice) and demanded that he tell her stuff? And now there were tentacles coming out of the walls?

He pressed a hand to his face, checking whether his nose was bleeding, and edged closer to his weapons. Not that he wanted to piss off the glowy tentacles or anything, but he'd rather be safe than sorry.

||Seamus Zelazny Harper, please also refrain from any retaliatory actions against Faith Lehane.||

Faith would then find herself being placed back down on the ground, before the tentacles retreated back into the walls and disappeared.

He quickly lifted his hand away from where he'd been about to grab his gun. "Okay, okay, geez. A guy tries to defend himself..."

Faith shifted her shoulders around and rubbed her wrists. "You know, you could have just told me who you were," the Slayer informed Gun-Boy. "Seamus, is it? What're you doing here?"

"It's Harper," he returned, very obviously unhappy about, well, mostly everything at the moment. "And when was I supposed to do that? In the huge delay between you hitting me and you hitting me again?"

He glanced around warily, but the tentacles didn't seem to be waiting around anywhere, so he started grabbing his stuff from where he'd dropped it. Toolbelt, check. Tools and various gadgets, check. Gauss gun, oh yes, check. The whole time, he kept an eye on the chick, just in case. "What're you doing here?"

Faith ignored the first half, and started rummaging for her stuff. She saw a tip of wood and then the rest of her stuff. Stakes, holy water, knife, backpack, and yes. "I dunno, man. One minute I'm in a plane, the next minute I'm naked and covered in slime, and not in the sexy way." She hesitated. "Er... the person that I spoke to said it's not hell, so I don't know where I am. Maybe some demon dimension, or something? Angel was messing around with some crazy stuff, so maybe something backfired."

As she spoke, she was stuffing all of her belongings into the backpack. Slinging it around her shoulder, she turned to face Harper. "Nice belt. So? What's your deal?"

Hopefully you don't mind that someone else has shown up.

Mr. Wednesday isn't particularly impressive, at first glance: large, weathered, a little flabby. He's looking for something.

As he glances over at the other two, the empty socket of his missing right eye is probably the most notable thing about him.

She got a raised eyebrow for the monologue. He'd just been trying to get her to stop being nosy, not to give him her life story. "My deal?"

And yet another new arrival. How many people were here, anyway? His eyes widened a little when he caught sight of the guy's missing eye. Not that he'd say anything, he knew better than that (usually), but he had no problems with staring.

Faith gave Harper a sneer. "Yes. Your. D-e-a-l," she sounded out slowly, as though he were a little slow or very deaf. "Screw that, I don't care anymore, you're boring."

She turned instinctively to the newcomer, but she didn't say anything. The guy looked as though he'd seen a few battles in his lifetime, and although Faith had overconfidence in her abilities, she wasn't anxious to tangle with anyone again, not after the tentacle business. She was silent for awhile as she rummaged around to see if she'd missed anything, and then finally gave in. "You looking for something, dude?"

"My eye," Wednesday says fairly flatly, checking through a few lockers. No, no, no... "You haven't seen it, have you? About this big, made of glass..." His manner is unhappy and offputting, but there's something inherently a bit likeable in his voice, even under these circumstances.

"No, I've not - but I found my stuff pretty quickly, have you looked over where Dumbass is?" Faith suggested. "I'll help you, if you want."

Ben walked in just in time to hear Wednesday's question.

"Uh, is that it right there?" said Ben, pointing to where the eyeball was resting on top of one of the lockers

There's a pause as Wednesday claims the glass eye, examining it. There's a tiny crack down one side- "Yes."

Watching him pop it into his eye socket is probably pretty weird.

Faith glanced up. "Well, since you have someone else to help, I'm going to head out. See you around."

She hitched the bag up, and pulled out her knife. "Later."

The Slayer disappeared out into the tubes in a mess of brown hair and frown lines on her forehead.

He glared after her as she left. 'Dumbass.' Oh, what a creative nickname.

He kept watching the old guy out of the corner of his eye as he moved to root around through the various things he'd found near his own. "That actually glass? Not a prosthetic?"

"...okaay, that's going on my list of things that would be slightly weird if I didn't have an alien device strapped to my arm." Ben said as he watched the eye pop into the socket.

"Yes, it is. Alien?" His voice is suspicious and, probably understandably, a little fearful, though his body language suggests he's not going to be stupid about it. He blinks a few times, peering at Harper and then Ben as if his false eye works just as well as his real one.

"I'm Mr. Wednesday," he says, as if the lack of a first name is completely normal.

"Um, yeah. This thing," Ben said holding up his wrist which has a watch like device attached to it, "Landed on Earth and strapped itself to my arm. Haven't been able to get it off."

Ooh, shiny. Harper wasn't picky about his weapons, but even he could tell that knife was a nice one. "Seamus Harper, at your service."

"Does it do anything?" Wednesday's gaze drifts over to the knife Harper's looking at. With time near the man, it's not hard to tell that his breathing is a little labored - not enough to be immediately dangerous, maybe, but there's probably something wrong there.

"Other than not work right half the time? Turns me into a bunch of different aliens."

Vincent entered the room, still naked. It was more crowded than he'd expected. He kept an eye on the others present, but went about his business, retrieving his one personal item, a locket with a picture of his mother.

"Interesting..." He appraised the gathering.

Starbuck entered the room, her eyes going wide as she realized that there were other people here. "Frak me..." she muttered quietly, edging through the background as she looked the others over. None of them looked like the skinjob-model Cylons she was familiar with, but Stacy's reassurances that there were none of them about didn't exactly put her completely at ease. She glanced around at the piles of things that were set out...

"Frak ME," she repeated, louder, as a glint caught her eye. In a neat pile were her sidearm and a pack she recognized as her own with smaller items inside. Paintbrushes, a flask...she opened and scented it, yep, still full of Ambrosia. Deeper in the pack, though, she found what she was looking for. A figurine, shaped in the general image of a woman. She ran her thumb over it with a small frown. "Aphrodite, Lords of Kobol, protect me in this strange place..."

Whoa, who needed a knife when you had a babe? ~~And one who hadn't tried to punch him yet.~~ Find forgotten, Harper sidled over.

"Aphrodite is about right. If I'da known this was heaven, I wouldn't have protested so much." Yes, that was bad. No, he didn't sound like he knew it. Such is the wonder of Harper.

Starbuck blinked, too startled and caught off guard to be hostile...yet. She slowly turned to look Harper over with an incredulous expression. She tried to holster her sidearm without thinking about it, and then realized with mild surprise that her odd outfit had supplied a strap-like holder for it.

She decided to ignore the smarm for now and nodded cautiously. "Hey...you got any idea what the frak is going on?"

All business, huh? Figured. "No clue. I was kinda hopin' someone'd be a little more helpful than Madam Disembodied Voice, there, but no such luck."

Kara grinned a bit, warily. "Yeah well, that information is classified, you know." She didn't know many Cylons with senses of humor, even Boomer was iffy. She looked down at the pack in her hands, and then back at Harper. "Is your stuff here too? Like, your real stuff? Did you wake up in slime? Just now? Look at all this junk..." She nodded to the huge repository of people's things. "There's gotta be...I don't even want to think about it. Tons of people here, somewhere. How the frak did we all GET here?"

Vincent addressed the loud woman. "We've apparently been abducted, for an unknown period of time, and held captive in a life support system, as part of a larger techno-organic structure. It's either sentient, or at least has an interface program with telepathic capcity. I'm still working on anything past that, including the mode of capture and general intentions of this entity."

He looped the locket's chain around his neck, and folded his arms across his bare chest. "Has anyone else deduced anything further?"

Kara instinctively turned towards the Voice of Someone Who Knew What the Frak Was Going On...and blinked.

"Hey there...naked guy. I see the freaky clothing tentacle things didn't get to you yet..." She frowned and then tossed her head, used to dealing with men and their random compulsion to be naked in public group settings. "The only thing I've worked out is that there's a frakking lot of us in this place somewhere, and that the lady who feels things into people's head isn't too loose with the details."

'Naked Guy' got a pair of raised eyebrows. "...Riiight. Well, I've 'deduced' that you skipped part of the attraction, here. Good for you. Think I'll wait for a little more evidence before going for anything more earthshaking than that."

Vincent looked at them flatly. Useless. Still, never burn a bridge unless your enemy is on it.

"I'm sorry I can't offer more information than what I've already managed to collect." He bowed his head slightly.

He then spoke up, calling out to the voice again. "Administrator. Please direct me to the clothing room."

Starbuck nodded, watching the two men, studiously keeping her eyes at eye level. Naked Guy seemed about humorless enough to be a machine, but Skinjobs usually tried to seem more like people than that.

"Well. For the clothed among us, I think the voices said something about some kind of common living area. I think I'm gonna go check that out, see who else is around and if anyone knows anything." She shouldered her bag with another nod, waiting for a moment to see if Harper was going to come along or if he'd get distracted by another female arrival.

Of course he'd come along. Until he found something (or someone) more interesting. Or shiny. Or something he could take apart. Or...

Well, he'd come along.