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Choal
Apr 5, 2013 7:00:28 GMT -8
Post by Whill Shaman Xixo on Apr 5, 2013 7:00:28 GMT -8
*Choal was the capital of Jabiim.*
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Gukky
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I remember... The Major.
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Choal
Jul 27, 2013 22:24:40 GMT -8
Post by Gukky on Jul 27, 2013 22:24:40 GMT -8
Rain, rain, rain
Another project, another godforsaken planet. At least this one wasn't hot, like Alagra II. And unlike Onderon, the local government here could be bought for pocket change. And there was even enough left to lease this entire dilapidated high-rise and the surrounding factory complex. Long live the galatic recession.
The boardroom had floor to ceiling windows that looked out over the dim cityscape lights, partially obscured by the sheets of falling rain. The acoustics was perfect and Gukky was making the best of it, playing his viola. He was standing on the massive table that dominated the room. It was a performance, punctuated by strobes of lighting and the din of thunder, leaving his audience spellbound.
Besides, she was made to enjoy it. Florentjin had carefully tidied and cleaned the boardroom to a repectable degree of its former glory, when this was a center of Imperial might, for this performance. But this was only the overture, a invitation for the rest of their guests to make their appearance. The agenda for tonight's meeting was a full one, so she had prudently aimed to start early, so that they could finish early.
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The Major
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Choal
Jul 28, 2013 8:43:24 GMT -8
Post by The Major on Jul 28, 2013 8:43:24 GMT -8
Ka-thip, ka-stop, ka-twhip, ka-klop, ka-stip.
"That music sounds really sad."
Tok, tok, tok, tok, tok, tok.
"It ist das inshtrument. Since it vwas designed for counter melody, it ist more subtle -thus resulting in ein onerous atmosphere vwhen playedt alone."
"It reminds me of Diva. . ."
Eye roll.
"Everythingk does."
A door opens. Wasn't this a replay of the first interaction on Kuat. There was the Fallanassi, again impeccably dressed in her usual suit while staring into the conference room with a listless expression, those deep blue eyes sliding slowly left to right before the data glasses took over and pinged the Oracle system to check on every nook and every cranny this room could conceal. Paranoia it was not, but her history had dictated that a careful nature was the wisest nature. From behind the Major, the little Pink Devil, the little beast that managed to survive despite obviously being out of her depth on Onderon, peeks timidly from behind the Markswoman. Ridiculous was an understatement: Kuroro could barely reach armpit level in height, and that was while wearing her white Victorian era boots.
Riplian enters, Kuroro follows and takes the cherrywood musket that Major now offered to her. Detecting what was wanted of her, she stands by the doorway, shoulders the antique, and does her best impression of the Royal Guard. Meanwhile, this ridiculously tall scientist proceeds deeper, and watches Gustav finish his performance with a bemused smirk.
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Gukky
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Choal
Jul 29, 2013 7:51:05 GMT -8
Post by Gukky on Jul 29, 2013 7:51:05 GMT -8
Gukky hung in his last motion long after the sound of the last note faded into the air. Then abruptly, he dropped his arms and turned, slippers squeaking on the waxed table, to his guests. Tucking the viola and the bow under his arm, Gustav half bowed.
"Evening, Major." He swept his arm to indicate the room. "Welcome to the factory." His previously lilting accent was now perfectly dry and sterile. It didn't quite afford the previous range and flexibility that he was used to, but such was the price of being understood, then so be it. He dismounted from the table and handed his viola to the suitcase, which graciously accepted it. Putting his hands into his long, pristine white overcoat, he walked over awkwardly. It felt peculiar to be watched by someone outside his group, but it was almost as if he wanted to be caught - if nothing but to showcase his abilities. Because even a man who was a mystery to himself had the desire to be discovered.
However, it was just a desire. And he had more important desires, like discovering the Major. He was his own bait, luring her out. But if it was quite so easy to disassemble her, there wouldn't be a challenge, now would there? So, it was time to change tactics. A different bait.
"I'm having something brought up that you might find interesting." Pulling out one of the fancy seats that could have belonged to a moff, he offers it. "Want to sit while we wait?"
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The Major
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Choal
Jul 30, 2013 9:42:54 GMT -8
Post by The Major on Jul 30, 2013 9:42:54 GMT -8
Too easy. Far too amicable. Too confident. There was a dagger clutched behind someone's back, and Macabre Scientist lived for the game of cloak and dagger. Obviously this was a game of compliance, and so long as she followed orders, then Gustav would no doubt keep on smiling. Orders? Pish posh. She was genuinely excited to see what sort of input this rather strange man could provide to the project. Besides, the Major had so many tricks hidden up her sleeve you might as well have considered her not as a single human but a network of honesty and misinformation spreading dozens of different fronts in so many scales it was comparable to a computer filled with nothing but music.
It was secretive, yes, but this one man had obviously done a lot of homework.
'A' for effort, but no. "No. No thank you. However, I would very much like to continue our dance, you're hot, and I'm warming up."
The Fallanassi's smirk grows into a full smile, and then her head shakes slowly, spelling N and O.
"Nein, danke; mir geht es gut."
Oh, he'd know. Of course he would know. If he didn't, it would be surprising disappointment -a bad marker of his dedication to his ruse, his plan.Instead, she walks, swooping slightly past Florentijin, proceeding to the window in order to peer outside into the bright lights of the cityscape. On one side, on their side, she is she, glorious, beautiful in her ugliness, sickly and pale; in the reflection of the glass is a black silhouette, eyes as bright white orbs, teeth bared in an overwide chainsaw toothed grin. The reflection was expectant. The reflection was anticipation. Mostly, it was excited with a childlike exuberance.
No change still, hmm? Still no soul to speak of, eh? Thank goodness she didn't want one.
"This vone ist goingk to be fun, isn't it. I can almost smell it."
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Dred Vizsla
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Choal
Jul 30, 2013 18:58:37 GMT -8
Post by Dred Vizsla on Jul 30, 2013 18:58:37 GMT -8
*Heavy footsteps of a heavy gait could be heard. Armor clanking and a solid bang could be heard as cursing in Mando'a was followed. A few minutes later, Dred swings the door open. He's got laser burns and knife wound openings and his armor is charred and he reeked of burnt flesh. A body bag is slumped over his large shoulders almost like a piece of sack cloth. He leans against the doorway with one arm holding himself upright and leers at Gukky and Major.*
"You have no idea what hell I went through to pick up this 'package' of yours Doc. You owe me a few beers and a several shots of ti'haar for this little project of yours. Nevertheless, it is what you asked for for me to pick up. I just want you to know, that I had to set the morgue on fire to get out with the package."
*The next part is said with sincere sarcasm.*
"You're welcome ner'tat."
*Dred pushes off and walks slowly to the prep table. He gets to the table and flips the bag over his should onto the table and then proceeds to unzip the bag revealing the young child in it.*
"All yours. First things first. Patch me up."
*Dred then takes a seat, takes off his buy'ce to reveal carbon scoring on his face and breaks out a large flask of ti'haar. He removes the top and holds it out to toast Gukky and Major.*
"To the success of your future endeavors. Oya."
*He then proceeds to take three big swigs of the ti'haar and then sits back. *
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Krystal "Meony" Tancredi
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Figuring things out...
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Choal
Jul 30, 2013 23:59:59 GMT -8
Post by Krystal "Meony" Tancredi on Jul 30, 2013 23:59:59 GMT -8
I don’t remember much about all this part of my second life. The head concussion, brain damage, cracked skull, repeated head trauma all took care of that. This was one of my frequent nightmares that I could never and still can’t ever make sense of. It was the worst flashes of memories that would leave me crying as I wake up from another fitful slumber. I don’t even know if it’s really memories or just nightmares. But I remember feeling the pains as if they were real. And the thing about my amnesia is that I actually wake up forgetting I ever had the nightmare. But there are times when I’m awake and I can recall fleeting images, voices, faces. My family perhaps?
Not likely.
I remembered some things, but they don’t really make sense. I briefly peeked out from a bag...I was in a bag...but why? Who puts people in a bag? I admit it’ll be an interesting way to be transported around, and being in something closed and small would be very snug and nice...I think I’m actually a little agoraphobic in addition to my astraphobia. I mean, why else would I like to be in a tight, enclosed space? I feel safer in such environments. So, I peeked out a bag, why was I in the bag? Nevermind, who are those people? Who’s the person in the armor and T-shaped visor? Hey, I like that helmet, can I try wearing it? Nevermind again, it’s probably not real, I’m just imagining things. Well, why can’t I imagine living in a crystal cave? That would be nice. I like crystals...I think. I mean I don’t know if I used to or if this is a new thing. I don’t know anything about myself, and I can’t stand that.
I remembered how my vision was really distorted that time, so even though I made out faces, I soon lost track of that sight, then I only woke up fleetingly to see flashes of imagery and some movement, but I was out for the most part. I wish I could remember more...if it really is a memory that is.
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Gukky
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Choal
Jul 31, 2013 2:27:48 GMT -8
Post by Gukky on Jul 31, 2013 2:27:48 GMT -8
And the wan smile faltered, as it should when someone rejects hospitality. Gustav substituted it with his long-suffering one, which he reserved for patients stubbornly refusing to be rehabilitated. Helping himself to the empty seat, he watched her figure from under the shadow of his prominent brow, into the soulless void. It was a minor gambit in the grander game. There was no need to launch a full-scale invasion. He had been patient. He would continue to be patient.
"I'm more interested to see what she can be made to do."
Said Gukky, looking at his hands. He would not go so far as to call it fun. His viola was fun. Major was fun. Tinkering with the machinery of life brought on a different kind of reward - satisfaction, accomplishment. But not fun. It was hard work.
Florentjin shifted slightly, tilting her LMG from Kuroro to the doorway behind Gukky. Softly at first, but it was unmistakably the sound of Dred coming. The doctor, the one qualified in surgery and psychiatry, checked his watch. Another on-time delivery. And what a smell. Dred would be lucky if it didn't make Kuroro fall uncontrollably in love wth his musk of burnt skin. It had been the death of some.
"Thank you, Mr Viszla"
Just because he was considered a criminal and social outcast didn't mean he had to act like one. Florentjin had slung the machine gun to hang at her hip while she unpacked the doctor's tools, delicately laying down each one on the table next to the subject, preparing the table to begin the operation. Gustav repaid Dred's comment by making him wait as he took his time inspecting the girl. If Dred was just another average delivery man, he wouldn't have signed for these damaged goods. She was pretty but an absolute mess. The features were mostly intact but he could see her headmeat. Was she a natural red-head, or was from all the blood? There was a pulse, weak but steady. Her eyes were half-open and occasionally moved. Gukky's green eyes softened for a moment. It was a mercy that she was unconscious, otherwise she would have been in a world of pain.
"Stabilise her." Gukky turned and sat opposite to Dred, placing a flask of surgical spirits in front of him. "Did you hit her with a train then thought that she'd make a good candidate?" Gukky asked sweetly. Ignoring his own question, Gukky took out a bright blue patch. "Sticker?" Dred would know these. Tranquillisers. The feel good train. Good clean fun. All you needed to do was lick and stick to make the hurt go away. He put it next to the Mandalorian. Then he began to reknit Dred's face. The new stuff was all military grade and could reassemble a person from scratch - minus the lifeforce, of course. No scars and the new skin would be softer than a baby's bottom. Something that would probably irk Dred for days.
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Dred Vizsla
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Choal
Jul 31, 2013 10:44:44 GMT -8
Post by Dred Vizsla on Jul 31, 2013 10:44:44 GMT -8
*Dred watches as Gukky takes his time. Normally Dred would fire one off in his knee cap, but he needed to be patched up. And why in the holy chaos does everyone always think it's his fault for the shape things come in? The child was in bad shape to begin with before the collection was made. Dred went in solo to a heavily fortified medical facility in Honoghr to get the girl. Getting out was the hard part. Killed several people on the way out. Including a Cerean Jedi security guy. This was no small task. Ask anyone how tough it is to kill a Force-user. Dred can't help but reply to Gukky's stereotypical kindness.*
"She was a mess before I got there, and she was on her way to the morgue. Brain hemorrhage. She was about to bleed out internally and they needed the bed for someone they could save. It turned into a train wreck on the way out to get her here in time for you to do your work WHILE she was still alive. That medical facility was fortified like a Republic HQ base."
*Dred feels the tranquilizer go into effect as Gukky goes to work on his face. It wasn't as bad as Gukky was letting on, all it needed was some stitches and a patch job. The rest was what needed to be taken care of, the stab wounds and blaster holes in various places. Gukky, despite his assessment of Dred, was a quick worker. Dred was patched up in no time. Battlefield triage.*
"I'll let you adenn kandosii adate to your respected work. I need to get the stink of burning flesh off of me. I'll be in the shower."
Dred gets up after being patched up and heads to the next room.
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The Major
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Choal
Jul 31, 2013 17:01:25 GMT -8
Post by The Major on Jul 31, 2013 17:01:25 GMT -8
As Dred walks by, Subject 194 -Major's newly minted executive butler and standard bearer- has to fight a thousand little warped fragments of her mind and being telling her to leap upon the delicious looking Mando and do all sorts of things to him. Yes, she could throw him down. Maybe pin down his muslcly arms by using the heels of her white Victorian boots. How about running some hands up and down his smokey armor, maybe gently dribble her fingers against his wounds, lovelingly remove the torso plate and reveal his burly chest. . .
. . .and eat still forming shit flowing through his intestine. Pour it down her shark rows of steel teeth, and just bask of the glory of his burned smell and gushing flesh.
"Eeeeeeeyyeahhhhaaahhhhhh...."
He exits, and with great restraint, thanks to all the demonic power granted by the wicked ink flowing through her sewed up veins, Kuroro manages to deeply inhale the air left in Dred's wake as he marches past. It would have been somewhat forgivable if she had the decency to wait until he exited completely. Nope. She did it and nearly bumped her head against his charred backplate.
"Nein. Nein. Nein! No, this vone needs. . . Ach. . . Ritter, achtung!"
The Fallanassi makes a cutting motion down towards the space between her shoes. A mircosecond later and Kuroro is standing at attention, musket held like infantry awaiting orders to take a bunker. A minute passes as the Major continues to examine the badly damaged body, placing her thumb and index finger upon the subject's chin, and tilting it left and right.
It makes snap,crackle, pop noises -like if it were a bowl of rice cereal in milk.
"Sir!"
"Get an I.D on her markers."And she raises a the laying figure's hand up to the Pink Nightmare. Kuroro shrugs, then bites down on the subject's pinky finger. The monster/butler twists her head, and the poor girl's pinky comes off with a pop. There is a little blood, but nothing worth noting -certainly nothing gushing. Meanwhile, Kuroro chews upon the finger thoughtfully and then swallows.
"Mmmmm! She's tasty! Ummm, I need some more to be su-"
"-No. Now vwhat can zyou tell me? "
"Errrrr..... AB positive. She's anemic. The cells feel funny in my tummy. Not bad -she's not sick. They are bouncing in there. I can feel them. Freaky! Should I rip her up to be make sure you're safe?"
The Major rubs the bridge of her nose before resetting her glasses upon her face.
"No. Gott, shtay focused."
"Ohhhkay! But if she gets up and goes all Eralam on your ass, don't come crying to me after you lose it and can't regenerate it like I can."
Through gritted teeth.
"zYour
Ob.
Jec.
tive:
Findt me four other girls zdat hafe der same genetic markers zyou hafe just tasted. Anyone from 11 to 15 vwill do. Zyou may kill them, but they hafe to be fres---"
"SIR, YES SIR!"The Sithspawn gently places the musket down upon a seat -as if it were a person, and then prepares to leap unto her mission, but is cut off yet again by the Fallanassi Doktor rasing her hand.
"Do not drink their blood nor spill a drop."
"But! Bua... But! I'm hungry!"
"Uh uhn ua: none of der sass, Kuroro."
"Rrrrrrrr. . . Yes, MooooOOMMmm."
And with that, Kuroro jumps through a window, shatters it, and falls into the city scape below -accompained by a handy and fashionable thunder clap.
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Krystal "Meony" Tancredi
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Figuring things out...
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Choal
Jul 31, 2013 23:54:58 GMT -8
Post by Krystal "Meony" Tancredi on Jul 31, 2013 23:54:58 GMT -8
I was briefly awakened by a sense of throbbing pain that went right to my brain. Went, not coming directly from the brain, which was already a mess. I remembered this part. I think someone bit off my finger. But since I still have them all presently, maybe this was just a dream. But the pain, the pain and the sensation of extreme loss. I remembered that sensation too well. I still feel it sometimes, I really did lose my finger, but I don’t know how I got it back. I think I opened my eyes and even said things, before blissfully slipping back into unconsciousness, or was it just amnesia?
“...Mama...”
Tears poured out for a despair I do not even know where it belongs.
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The Major
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Choal
Aug 1, 2013 14:44:55 GMT -8
Post by The Major on Aug 1, 2013 14:44:55 GMT -8
There were many things going on. There was Gukky's game, the work with the pirates, even discovering that another Fallanassi existed. A moment ago all was smooth, but then this poor little girl opened her mouth and said a word -a word that meant nothing to the vast network of spinning cogs that was the scientist's mind. It was nothing, but something about it: the helplessness, the tears, the unfairness and seemingly random nature of the universe that was in actuality cruel and an ever-consuming bully. Suddenly the brutality of her actions here and in other places struck her as sure as if somebody took that musket she so treasured and smashed it into her four-eyed face. Suddenly you had all these plans but something grabbed you by the necktie and forced you to look at the ugly -frankly horrifying- truth. Move, talk, do anything -but don't let it creep in. Don't let your vision be tarnished by the realization that your sin was starting to stink like a septic tank. Nope. It was too late. It was always too late.
The Major opens her mouth to speak, but nothing comes out; she then freezes up at the impromptu operating table.
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Flo
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Ow. That doesn't hurt.
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Choal
Aug 2, 2013 9:18:16 GMT -8
Post by Flo on Aug 2, 2013 9:18:16 GMT -8
Florentjin snaps the safety back on as Major brings Kuroro to heel. Outside, she would have happily let them at each other, but inside the lair, there would be order. Especially when there were valuables that needed to be handled with care. She turned back to complete the preparations - a IV here, biomedical monitor there. She noted the initial survey of the subject and made a checklist. Gustav was a great planner but certainly not a detail man, which is why he left the tedium to her. She added one small left finger to the fabrication list. Complications. There were always complications.
Occassionally, they simplified themselves. Kuroro jumping out of the window and Dred being away had left Major exposed. Even her musket was just outside her reach. She wouldn't even bother to kick the musket away. Just cut her in half with the LMG - there was plenty of space next to Meony for another patient. The patient spoke. She had just stabilised her - how could she be coming around?
Gukky stepped in. He put a needle under the skin and depressed the ice-cold white serum into the delirious subject. Instinctively, she patched it as he removed the needle. The monitors showed her rapid improvement slowing while her brain activity remained unchanged. Peculiar. She reached out and closed Meony's eyes, wiping the tears away then held the patient, reassuring her. Even though she would unconscious, she knew that she was still aware. Her survival was more important than dealing with the Major. Besides, they had a moment together while the Doctor snapped his finger to get Major's attention.
"She's not a normal girl, is she now?" He tapped a readout. "She's supposed to be dead. But she'll be more than alive in the next few hours at this rate." There was a edge to his voice now. Urgency. "Do your magic, Major." The Doctor was preparing another shot of his brand of magic, the range of chemicals, hormones, receptors that he used to change the fabric of the mind.
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Dred Vizsla
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Choal
Aug 2, 2013 12:11:27 GMT -8
Post by Dred Vizsla on Aug 2, 2013 12:11:27 GMT -8
*Done with his shower; Dred steps out, dries himself off and surveys the damage done. Impressed with Gukky's work, Dred begins the suiting up process. He doesn't put on the armor he had on from before. He starts to put on his new armor that he made form the generous donations of Clan Vhett on Algara II. His super-commando armor. He even had a powerful and new jetpack to compensate for the weight. Roughly it looked like Riot gear sans the goofy looking visor helmet. It was black mostly with red trimmings with the sigil of clan Vizsla on the left shoulder. Once he completely suits up, he sends a droid to put his old armor back in a carrying case on the Silent Justice. He walks out to where everyone else is and sees Major, Flo, and Gukky doing their thing. Major looked like she did when she saw Kya. Something rattled her again. Flo was busy looking busy in a battle ready stance. The young warrior had the look of Blue steel er.., I mean cold steel on her face. If Dred had his way he would have Flo watch his back and maybe join the illustrious Death Machine known as Death Watch. But that isn't the case. Dred had his orders to watch over this experiment. The powers that be, bank rolled this operation and made sure that it went off without a hitch and be successful. But being successful depended on ones perspective. Standing there as he does, his buy'ce tucked under his right arm, his left hand on his ripper underneath the arm drape over his left shoulder. Standing vigilant, ready to shoot anyone who makes a false move, despite his heavier armor. He looks at the others, watching intently. He didn't like watching people experiment on others to make them stronger, he viewed that like he viewed the Force. Why help someone become something they never would have in the first place? It wasn't his place to argue with the powers that be, but nevertheless it disgusted him. However, he kept such feelings and observations to himself, even though he felt this child didn't deserve this power. There she was, laying there helpless. It would be better for her probably just to die in her sleep like some ailing pet. But that choice wasn't up to Dred. Only the War God would see if she was worthy or if the sloth God would take her into perpetual limbo with no soul. A fate every Mandalorian ever hoped to avoid. Religious musings aside, he would take interest in Gukky and Major's play toy. See if she was worthy to survive or die, and if she survived what role would she play in the grander scheme of things. Only time and a little genetic alteration would tell.*
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Krystal "Meony" Tancredi
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Figuring things out...
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Choal
Aug 2, 2013 19:17:52 GMT -8
Post by Krystal "Meony" Tancredi on Aug 2, 2013 19:17:52 GMT -8
Things were flowing through my body. Pain coursed through my veins like lava. I gasped sharply as foreign substances invaded me without my permission. How was it possible? I'm pretty certain my skin was impenetrable even then. I had gripped the table I was by the edge, bending the metal parts like it was paper. I remembered the groaning of metal as it struggled to maintain its integrity and form.
It should have been impossible to do so much while in such a state. But again, none of this probably happened, so what do I care or know? I remembered sitting in the command chair of the Sunflower thinking about the next few moments where I acted out against whatever was in me. I remembered glimpsing at so many people, and far too many needles and other instruments that I know are probably bad for me. Someone tried to close my eyes and wipe away my tears. My mother?
I reopened them, though they were as heavy as stock freighters. I looked right at someone, and out of reflex I thumped the table with my wounded hand, making another dent, breaking free of any restraints to do so, and I shrieked. I couldn't remember whether I passed out after that, but when I awoke again, I immediately grabbed the nearest person to me by the collar and pulled them close, saying, * "Liberate et tu te me!"
I released my hold after that and tilted my head back painfully on the table to look at someone in armor, and I said, ** "Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum..."
After that, blissful silence and blackness. I don't know what all these flashes, images, and even the words I said mean...
* Save yourself from the devil. (Latin)
** I'm still alive, but you are dead. I remember you, so you are eternal. (Mando'a)
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The Major
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Choal
Aug 4, 2013 7:32:04 GMT -8
Post by The Major on Aug 4, 2013 7:32:04 GMT -8
Latin? But this girl couldn't be from the old fatherland, could she? There were many strange things in this universe, but the subject's super strength nor her sprinting brain patterns that displayed upon the monitors like machine gun fire speeding through ten lines of cocaine -nearly scribble and thought dribble- was not what was amazing here. That message, 'Liberate et tu te me' rung truly within the now sweaty cogs of the Major's intellect. Quite, and that was the point of all this, no? Freedom from the devil.
27 minutes have counted down upon the mission clock, 27 minutes from the force grab that made the whole mess an uneasy affair. And it is at this pivotal moment that the shuffle serum is inserted into the base of the subject.
"Hush, little one, because now zyou are legion; hush now, Meony."
A term of endearment, perhaps? It didn't have to make sense. The Fallanassi Doktor was simply compelled to say something. This girl did carry hopes and dreams that she would not fathom, faith she would never know.
And so progress comes in the form of climbing upon the corpses of many others. In this case, a liquor shot of Subject 67's blood. It was sinister, self replicating, nigh uncontrollable, but nothing was impossible if you struck a good enough deal. In terms of scope, this vial contained the genetic codes to nearly 10 billion lifeforms, killed and eaten, assimilated, and turned into something quite horrid -a collective of sorts. There was no way to keep a proper track of it, since the markers shifted like the wavelength pulses of a pulsar. In this sense, the Major would be condemning her to a lifetime of abnormalities -sudden mutations, fractured thought processes, and insanity. If she were normal, or a typical human being, then there would be no chance of success. The self contained army in this little needle would march upon her body and consume it. But Meony was something altogether different, no? She was something not so human -and stronger. The army of sequences wouldn't expect the resistance. She could slowly, hopefully, learn to control it; slowly, hopefully, not just survive it, but to thrive on it. Such was the scope of this project. Perhaps Gukky expected some terrible insight from watching Major work. Perhaps he wanted the line into her brand of science. But really, the work has and had been done already. The project was already in its infancy five years ago. Hell, the project was already in motion once she received a B.A in Biology at 15. The players and pawns just didn't know it yet. Of course, if you confronted her with the notion she would doubt how stupid you seemed.
A call comes in to the Fallanassi's datapad; it syncs seamlessly with her data glasses and brings up a slew of information which displayed upon the inside of the left lens. A voice speaks from a tiny speaker housed in the silver frame of the glasses, a speaker just above either ear.
Ummmmm... I have a problem.
A huff, and the Major comes away from the operating table.
"Report, vwhat ist zyour shtatus."
"I got the girls, but there are cops everywhere, and they keep on coming."
"VWHAT did zyou DO?!"
"Umm... Well, one girl was at a concert with a boyfriend or a brother, who kinda looked like Eralam, so I guess people didn't like watching me break his neck in front of them? And then she screamed, and then I broke her neck, but it was not on purpose. It then got loud, and yeah. Cops."
"IDIOT! vWe need to be discreet uabout this, not attact der entire city! Vwot of mein orders?"
"I followed them! You said don't drink the blood of the girls. I didn't. You didn't say I couldn't eat their family or cops. Hey! You know, they don't taste like pig at all. That saying is all wrong, they actually taste li-"
A string of curses escapes the doktor's mouth in her native tongue. Colorful, nasty, and full of venom was an understatement.
"I don't speak pig Latin. Are you saying you like my hair? Because I have tips for yours that could get rid of those freaky cur-"
"VWhat are zyou, Sixty-seven on crack?! Get der fick into ein defensible spot unt holdt position. Keep vone body. zYour form ist shtill vweak. Do not engage in hostilities, do zyou copy, Beast?"
"Do you REALLY think I'm like Diva? Because her dresses aren't very good, but I lov- "
"BAH! MORON! "Then Major cuts the channel, quite close to becoming enraged. Nearly hissing, she turns to Gustav, obviously not in the mood for mind games or bemusement.
"I needt zyou to sendt Florentjin to extract Kuroro.
Now. . ."
She turns back to the table and prepares another shot. Then adds, trying to mention it offhandedly so as to not be noted.". . . Please."
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Dred Vizsla
Member
Posts: 734
Affiliation: Whomever pays better
Traffic Light: Purple
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Choal
Aug 5, 2013 11:13:53 GMT -8
Post by Dred Vizsla on Aug 5, 2013 11:13:53 GMT -8
*Business as usual. Motionless and emotionless, Dred stands and watches. Eyes on all the exits. Then something happens that stirs a response even in Dred. The child speaks. I two different languages that there would be no way for her to possibly know who or what was in the room with her. One language he didn't know,but the other...the other was Mando'a. She was in his head and it was starting to make the white hot hate go supernova in his chest. It was the last thing Dred said to his father before he watched him get murdered. What was more infuriating was that Dred had said to his father so many times to him before especially when their backs were against the wall.*
*"Ib'tuur jatne tuur ash'ad kyr'amur"*
*Dred is starting to regret taking on this task. He HATES it when people get inside his head. His anger pulses like the sound of drums behind his eyes and the scowl on his face is enough to curl Kuroro into submission. Dred doesn't like revealing this so he puts on his buy'ce. Then an opportunity to hurt something comes up. Major and Kuroro exchange banter. By the sound of Major being pissed, he knew Kuroro was an amateur at best and it was going to take a couple pro's to save he precious subject 139.*
"I'll go with you Flo. Doc and Demagolka have this under wraps. Let's go save the Jaro, from herself."
*Dred takes off the shoulder drape and hands it to Major to wrap the girl in. With his size, and her size the child would be covered with no exposure.*
"Use that to cover the child. We'll meet you back at the ship. I feel an overwhelming need to kill someone slowly."
*Dred then proceeds to exit when Flo does.*
*Today is a good day for someone else to die.*
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Krystal "Meony" Tancredi
Member
Figuring things out...
Posts: 239
Affiliation: Anything that abhors violence
Traffic Light: Green
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Choal
Aug 6, 2013 19:48:26 GMT -8
Post by Krystal "Meony" Tancredi on Aug 6, 2013 19:48:26 GMT -8
What happened? Flickered images reminded me of something. I saw that helmeted man (I'd love to try out that helmet). And then there's the woman, but who was she? Urgh...memories...work! No, not gonna work. Stupid amnesia. Stupid brain damage. I can't tell what's going on. Just...isn't it strange? I thought I had impenetrable skin...but stuff was being injected into me like I was made of paper. I guess maybe I wasn't always this tough. I opened and closed my eyes as I reached out and touched the hand of the woman near me, just holding it, but I only rest me hand on hers, couldn't really do much more. There must be something....I no longer believe this is just a dream. I'm sure this is a memory, but is it my early memories or just something in between...OR....is it the cause of my amnesia? Hmm.....
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Dred Vizsla
Member
Posts: 734
Affiliation: Whomever pays better
Traffic Light: Purple
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Choal
Aug 6, 2013 20:05:38 GMT -8
Post by Dred Vizsla on Aug 6, 2013 20:05:38 GMT -8
*Dred and Flo exit. He walks like a man with a purpose to get to Kuroro. Amateur. Bloodthirsty fool is what she was. Good thing he had Flo with him. He already went through hell to get the child. Taking down police forces were going to give him a headache to deal with on his own. Walking several yards away Dred jumps into the speeder he stole after arriving on the planet. He waits for Flo to jump in and he takes off in the direction of Kuroro's last known position.*
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Krystal "Meony" Tancredi
Member
Figuring things out...
Posts: 239
Affiliation: Anything that abhors violence
Traffic Light: Green
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Choal
Aug 6, 2013 23:36:23 GMT -8
Post by Krystal "Meony" Tancredi on Aug 6, 2013 23:36:23 GMT -8
Tears poured out of my eyes even as I kept them closed. I was hurting everywhere, and I didn’t like it. I wanted it to stop. Make it stop! Someone please help me! I opened my eyes, I called out names, I screamed, I shrieked, and reached out for salvation from anywhere. I thought I saw someone, a silhouette in the light. Good enough for me...wait...daddy? Is that my father?
“Daddy! Make them stop!” I don’t know what I saw, I don’t even know if I do have a daddy, or if I’m just delirious, but I said it anyway. “Daddy please!”
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