trans_9 | Meet-n-Greet

Entry tags:

Meet-n-Greet

After being released from stasis, having the slime removed from their bodies and clothed in the creepy, pulsing leaf-suit that everyone wore, and being taken to the Weapons & Possessions lockers to collect their belongings, the new arrivals would find themselves standing in the Observation Deck. Round windows lined the fleshy walls, revealing the bright display of lights that was inter-dimensional travel. They would also discover that there were people--members of the command staff and crew that had woken earlier--waiting for them.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Daimon gave Owen a disdainful glance.

"We are... acquainted." Or so he thinks.

"Did I flirt with you at a Halloween party or something once? I mean, you're cute and all, but I totally didn't mean to lead you on..." Patsy said before turning to Owen. "Uh...I've never met him before?" She looked back at Daimon. "Uhm. Who are you?"

Owen shrugs, but extends his hand to the other male. "Well, nice to meet you myself then. Owen Mercer-Harkness-Thawne. You a newcomer like us, or you been around this place for a while?"

If Patsy looked carefully, she could see the Son of Satan's heart breaking again at her words before rage took over.

"We have met!" He said forcefully, ignoring Owen completely. "It is I, Daimon Hellstrom. You would not easily forget the Son of Satan." If this 'Stacy' had done something to Patsy, erased her memories of him...

Well, he would be receiving a lot more violations.

Blink.

Blink blink blink.

Blink.

Blanche.

"The son of...who?"

Okay, now Owen's going into serious mode, which he hasn't been in since he fell out of the pod. His face goes tightly controlled, and with a flicker of movement, he's now standing partially between Patsy and the new guy.

It's entirely possible the alias is just that, an alias, but between the vibe off this guy, and Patsy's reaction, he's not writing off anything. His gaze is fixed on the alleged hell-spawn. He's not totally blocking them from being able to speak to one another, but he's not yielding any ground either.

Biiig mistake.

"Stand aside!" In an instant Daimon's hair transformed transformed into flame and his irises turned red.

He unceremoniously shoved Owen out of his way.

A tentacle lashed out from the wall and snatched Daimon away from Owen, slamming him back against the wall.

||Daimon Hellstrom, attacking your fellow crew members is not permitted.|| Stacy said. ||You have received one Violation.||

Usually, she gave warnings first. But she had already given Daimon his warnings, down in the Pod Chamber.

Daimon grunted as he was slammed into the wall. "Curse you, Stacy, you thousand eyed Argus!" Perhaps in English that meant "flame on" for the fire atop his head grew.

Okay. Owen tried to protect her. Daimon pushed him. The ship went all tentacle rape on Daimon. Daimon yelled and got even more fiery.

...

"Uh. Down boys?"

Owen had already just gotten a boomerang in hand, when the tentacle put Daimon in his place.

"Uhh... 'kay." He blinked as the voice spoke up, looking over to Patsy. "You alright?"

"Release me! Release me, damn you!" Soulfire surged through his hands in a half-conscious attempt to burn the tentacles.

Inside of him, in whatever place the soul resided, there was war between the two aspects of Daimon Hellstrom.

Patsy, think of Patsy. What good will destroying the ship do for her? None, only harm.

"RELEASE ME!"

This was going to take a while.

"I'm fine," she said, giving Owen a smile that also indicated that she was alright. "Just a little frazzled." She looked around the room. "Uh...Stacy? Could you put Mr. Hellstrom down? I'm sure he's just scared what with everything that's happened, and he - well, he probably thinks he kno..." she trailed off. Hold on. He knows me, somehow. He said my name. And it wasn't a comic-book fanboy sort of way. Or a you're-my-favourite-model sort of way. Which means... "...Are...you from my future?"

"Long as you're sure about that.." Owen keeps himself ready in case Daimon tries anything again. The ship seems to have things under control, but what kind of guy would he be if he dropped his guard when a lady might be in trouble?

He groans. "Man... even if I wouldn't exist without it, I hate time-travel. Confuses everything."

Another tentacle separated itself from the wall. This one was different from the tentacles holding Daimon prisoner.

For one, it was pointy. For two, it contained a mild sedative.

JAB.

As soon as it took effect (which it was designed to do very quickly), she would release him.

"Unhand m-" Daimon's eyes rolled to the back of his head and his body went limp.

"..." Patsy turned to look at Owen before looking back at Daimon and the tentacles. "And this place just gets creepier and creepier."

Owen nods grimly, moving towards Patsy. "Maybe we should give him some distance before he wakes up... sort that out later."

Patsy looked at Daimon's knocked out form, her brow furrowing. "It's weird, though," she said. "He knew me. How?" She turned to look at Owen. "I don't know. He might go beserk if he wakes up again and...maybe my telekinesis could control him?" Doubtful, really, honey. You're strong, but you're no Marvel Girl. "Are you alright?"

"Like I said, time travel gets things really confused." Owen scratched his head, eying the downed man uncertainly. "I'd rather just avoid him altogether while we're all still getting our bearings."

He nodded as she checked on him. "Yeah, guy's got some mojo working with those flames, but I've been hit by worse."

Patsy looked back at Daimon, her lips being pulled into a frown. And then she nodded. "Yeah. Maybe a cooling off period wouldn't be unwarranted," she admitted. "Just for a little while." She smiled softly at Owen. "Thanks. The chivalrous standing in front of me thing. It was sweet." Then she smiled here catty little smile. "If a little unwarranted. I can protect myself pretty well, remember?" Then she nods. "You're not burned though. That's good."

Owen shrugs, smiling. "Honestly? I didn't even think about it. I just moved. Not that I mind playing at rescuer for you, kitten." He chuckles sheepishly. "Maybe I'm cut out for the hero thing after all."

He nods in the direction of another part of the Obs deck and motions for them to wander away a bit.

Patsy takes one last look at Daimon and then nods at Owen. "Funny," she said, grinning. "And maybe you are. After all, like you said, it's not like your dad was a total big bad."

Owen nods. "Yeah, I like to think I'd be me even if he was a big bad. I'm glad I got his skills and the speed thing from my mom's side, but I don't like the idea that we're locked into some kind of destiny to become anything. If life's not our own, why's it worth living?" He starts wandering along with Patsy.

"Besides being abducted and having space adventures, that is."

"Good point," Patsy says softly, thinking about it. Truth was, up until recently, Patsy didn't think she'd see herself as anything except what she'd been so far. But then she'd met Hank McCoy and they'd found one of Greer Grant's old Cat costumes and...her life had done a complete 180.

And she honestly believed it was for the better.

But it was it all written in stone? Was that the way her life was always supposed to go?

Patsy wasn't sure.

"And...I don't know if there's an answer to that question."

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject