Diva, from Aeons Torn
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If blood is the currency of life, then what's its tax collection service?
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Post by Diva, from Aeons Torn on Jun 10, 2013 3:55:56 GMT -8
This song visibly resets Ice Incarnation's crashing train of thought. Too brash, too reminiscent of an old story that was dragged on for way too long. Who kills the main force of good three fifths into the story? Not even Diva would do something so downright evil. Possibly. Her head begins bouncing with the slower main rhythm an amplified guitar provided. Power chord, power chord, power chord. It was something like violence, but it lacked the evil of subtlety.
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Jun 10, 2013 4:26:30 GMT -8
Eralam roams the ship at random, trying to figure out where in the seven hells everyone was hiding at.
The ship was large for a vessel of its class, and there were plenty of nooks and crannies for an enterprising introvert to seek out if they wished not to be found. Come to think of it, that distinctive size, coloring, the fact that it was completely custom-built, all added up to something that a half-blind Gamorrean could recognize if pressed. This could be problematic. That pretty much settled the the first stop of their journey. The Shard had ships aplenty, but most were in the Dressel system. But hey, it'd be easy to stop, resupply, and maybe turn Diva loose on a penal colony.
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Chloro
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Post by Chloro on Jun 10, 2013 8:51:05 GMT -8
Splorch. Snap.
The ribcage snapped closed, not unlike the hood of a car closing. Kuroro pulled herself together with the haphazard stitching of a junior seamstress. It was not like she felt pain. That hadn't been in the manufacturer's specifications. Although, there were several unanticipated changes. The freakish obsession with cuteness. Cuteness had made the mistake of taunting Kuroro and now she was going to make it mewl like a kitten.
The new hot pink outfit seemed be a sign that the battle has escalated to a new level. What made Eralam tick? He seemed to be partial to the pink. After all, he had given her pinky room to begin with. If he liked it - she was sure he would like a lot of it too. Cute, to be sure, but not cute enough. She couldn't do this by herself.
Kuroro could find Diva with her eyes closed. She was making a bleeding mess around the armoury that the Sithspawn could smell like a morning napalm. Trundling over with the materials from earlier in the day, she cornered the suicidal bat-girl who was playing with Eralam's toys. Most of the guns here were larger than her head and remembering her experience with the Desert Eagle before, she wasn't to anxious to get familiar with large handguns soon. But Kuroro was a nasty, happy sunbeam on Diva's morbid show.
"~Why so sad? Aru~ I've brought you something to make that all go away..."
There was another dress, a purple one, cast from the same mould and shade of the one Kuroro wore. The slightly bigger Sithspawn had become quite adept at dressing up in these fiendishly complicated designs. The challenge would be to see how well she could do it to someone else. And judging by the strange look on the inhuman Sithspawn's face, the witch would probably need to use the pistol to stop her.
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Diva, from Aeons Torn
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Post by Diva, from Aeons Torn on Jun 10, 2013 11:11:13 GMT -8
Which she immediately did. The bluish-gray revolver gleamed much like the few wanton beams of light that dare splay across the wretched being's lap. No thought, no pause, up comes the sights and they level breezily on a spot that should enable a bullet fired to travel directly between Kuroro's eyes. Besides this motion she maintains the same posture: sprawled back with head leaning uselessly behind her shoulders, legs crossed. More lines of ink travel down her forehead like the meticulous arrows a war monger drew to mark plans of death dealing and taking. Still, her voice crackles with hoarseness.
"Tell me,
can you travel faster than 470 meters per second?
Did the slobbering little maggots that made you
down at Weapons R Us
design you to those specs?
I doubt it.
Wanna test it?"
Diva's hands lazily point to the various arms in the armory.
"You're just a gun, my dearest love,
a gun with'a cigarette lighter setting.
Yah get pointed,
you get reloaded,
you get cleaned,
and you even get replaced when the parts wear out.
So sad.
So beautiful.
But still, you're not alive."
The pistol levels at the Sithpawn once again.
"Here's a fun fact:
you attacked me first,
haaa haa haa haaa,
yet here you are still kicking.
It's been 19 hours since you first tried to burn the life outta me.
In my entire tenure of existence,
only seven other beings have lasted longer than 19 hours -it's a compliment to whoever stapled you together.
You're about to beat seventh place -or you would be, if you don't run off now."
A wide smile curls upon her cheeks.
"We aren't friends.
We aren't a squad.
I have no need for lies wearing synth skin
with fake smiles,
fake smells,
fake hopes,
fake love,
fake blood,
fake dreams.
Be a good little gun, my dearest love:
fuck off,
and get your Master to finger your little trigger. . ."
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Jun 10, 2013 11:34:45 GMT -8
Naturally, Eralam would find the two as they were on the brink of going at it again. For one brief, shining instant, he considered intervening. It was glorious, that speck of time. A true beauty, a sight to behold. And then it vanished, behind a great big ol' "fuck it." There comes a point when enough is enough."All I ask is that you don't destroy the ship and that the winner clean up the loser. Anyway, we're about to hit hyperspace. I figure we'll stop by the Dressel system to pick up a less conspicuous ride and a few other odds and ends. We won't be setting foot on the planet, thanks to little miss vampire, but there's a nice penal colony in the asteroid belt that's becoming overpopulated. If you two behave yourselves, I'll let you play with the nice men and women. And by 'play with' I mean kill." With that, the Shard left. He sent out a brief microburst transmission to tell the armory's computer to lock the cabinets if things got out of hand. He went back up to the bridge, where things were nice and peaceful, and where there were no crazy broads trying to kill each other. The course was punched into the navcomp, and the ship flickered into hyperspace.
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Syren
The Vegemite Enclave
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Post by Syren on Jul 28, 2013 6:01:58 GMT -8
::Foamwander Hospital Administrative Office Suite::*She took in his words carefully.* <<What he is describing sounds exactly like the concept of the Nen. >> *And so she interjected"My species is called the Calnennore. We come from a planet, as far as I can tell by current star maps, out in what you might call the Unknown Regions. Gaeren III is our planet of origin, binary system, very much like Dac and with about as many sentient species. " *She looked towards the Quarren and the Mon Calamari.* "But my people know very well this concept of the 'Force' as you call it. The Nen, is what we know it as. It is the energy that ties all life together, some 'lucky' few can wield it. But I was trialed, like all children. I never had the talent..." *She frowned. That was another hole in her memory. She could pinpoint cultural memories, but personal ones seemed out of reach. She strove to try to hold onto that scrap she had started to recall, but it seemed to just float away. In the end she just shook her head.* "The Nenya are what we called those with the ability to tap into the Nen and use it with skill. They protected their knowledge and the philosophy went that they protected the Nen itself. I suppose though that all of my species can use this 'Force.' But fine application took a degree of talent that only a few were born with." *She took a breath then looked back to Jago. He described the Jedi's duty and their presence on Dac. She blinked as this all seemed far too complex.* "I have read about this Galactic Republic. The concept is very... complicated. You strive to represent the billions of people across the galaxy with merely hundreds of thousands of representatives. I don't see how they get anything accomplished. And there seems to be alternative driving forces to some of those representatives viewpoints that seem to contrast sharply with those they are trying to represent... perhaps the scale is what I do not understand. "We have a similar method on Gaeren III for interacting with outsiders: we select a speaker and that person will discuss trade, travel, or any other coordinated business and then we part ways with those compromises or agreements. But why is secession here a such a terrible thing? If there are people of this world that no longer wish to deal with this... compromising system, why not allow them to secede from your Republic? Or why not allow this population of malcontents to maintain a seceded region? Why have such conflict to begin with?" "Besides the strange things I seem to be able to accomplish today, was there anything else you wanted to discuss, Jago? Will?" |
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Will Sontir
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Post by Will Sontir on Aug 1, 2013 21:08:20 GMT -8
Will stopped inspecting the current hygenic state of his fingernails when the aquatic force user identify herself as Callnennore. It wasn't a species Will was most familiar with, but he seems to remember . . .something from the jedi database about the species. But he was sure he would try to find out more about her species. The Calnennore flips the conversation fairly quickly. Though it has felt Will has been waiting patiently for the ranking Jedi Master, High Councilor Jago Pulastra, to provide his wisdom in the case of this force user. Many here on Mon Calamari would have her held captive and studied further, if for no other reason then because she is unsafe to herself and to the general public.
If Will had a say in it, he would bring her to the Jedi Enclave at least, to get away from the general population and . . .whatever it is that is coming next that the Force has been trying to tell him ever since he rendezvoused with Jago. Whatever it is, it involves this Calnennore. . . somehow. But Will could not pinpoint it. And the way that this conversation has gone, the aquatic force user would not be able to tell them much about her involvement. Though her memory of how her own planet's system governance seems to lead Will to believe that it is only her short term memory that has been impaired . . . or perhaps tampered with.
Will allows his thoughts to be silent and unvoiced as his piercing blue eyes grew sharp and focused as he takes a deep breath and awaits the wisdom of the High Councilor. Will is a respected Master of the Order and Watchmen of this sector, he is honor bound never to supersede the perogative of a High Councilor-- an extension of the Council itself.
Master Son'tir awaits Pulastra's response to the seemingly simple question that may determine a shift in this sector's safety. . . .
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Syren
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Post by Syren on Aug 10, 2013 14:40:17 GMT -8
*The silence was beginning to grow uncomfortable.*
"Look, Jedi, all I really want to do is get out of here. I was supposed to be discharged before this craziness happened."
*She looked from one face to another hoping that they could move this along to somewhere other than this room, other than this hospital. She was not particularly interested in sticking around with them however. Her first thoughts were to find a ship off this planet, as soon as she could scrape together the coin for it, and get as close to the Unknown Regions as she could.
Syren scratched her head then, wondering just how she would make enough credits to get off of Mon Calamari. Where would she go?*
"Um, neither of you would have any ideas on how I could cheaply make my way back to the Unknown regions, would you? I probably should get home and make sure no one has missed me." *But for some reason as she mentioned returning home, she felt a terrible weight of sadness and doom fall over her, it took her breath away. Her nictitating eyelids blinked back and forth quickly in succession, essentially the Calnennore equivalent of shedding a tear.* "Yes, I probably should return home rather than stay in this hospital. Probably the best help for me since I can remember that much at the least."
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Will Sontir
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Post by Will Sontir on Aug 16, 2013 22:52:21 GMT -8
Will's piercing blue eyes chased back and forth between the young Jedi Master, Jago Pulastra, and their myster aquatic friend wondering what would come of the situation. These was just something that puzzled Will. Why does this being have so much of her personality and long term memory still intact? She seemed quite calm and collected -- at times even smitten-- with the fact that she has no idea how or why she was there and how she even got there in the first place. The personnel at the medical facility are literally afraid for their lives around her, and yet she seems not to be concerned about it in the least it. She is clearly strong in the Force -- that much both Jago and Will can see for themselves -- yet she seems unaware of it. Whether she was always unaware her whole life, or it is a symptom of her amnesia. . . quite curious how her amnesia seemed to only effect her knowledge of only her most recent activity and the Force. . . Will decides to follow up on that feeling.
"Are you aware of you Force capabilities? The staff seem all too aware, and seemed to be. . .on edge about it when you got here. Remind me why that is again. . . Being a member of a very unusual race, coupled with you midichlorians, perhaps the medical facility here may not have the instruction on how to treat. . .whatever it is that going on with you right now."
Will allows for opening for her to reply to answer the question, before the Force beseeched him with a question to ask. "Do you think it was something in the water?" A facetious question, but it does have a certain validity. "I believe you warned my PF colleagues outside about not touching your poisonous fins. Perhaps you came into contact with some chemicals that would normally be harmful to other species-- however similar? Would you mind if we took a blood sample? This is a bang-up facility, to be sure; no doubts their; but the Jedi have access to a much more vast database and resources then this medical facility here on Mon Calamari."
Will genuinely awaits a response, before addressing her immediate question. "Tell you what: you cooperate and I will provide you--as the autonomous administrator of the Dacian Enclave here on Mon Cal, provide you with a shuttle and allow you to travel wherever you need to go. Free of charge, what do you say?"
"I will make sure that the database is preloaded with the contact frequencies to administators for the Jedi Order across the galaxy in you shuttle; I think we'd like you to think about. . . dropping a line sometime-- especially when you remember what happened."
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Syren
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Post by Syren on Aug 17, 2013 4:15:15 GMT -8
"What are midichlorines, and what do they have to do with anything? I thought I mentioned that I have previously never shown any ability to use the Force, as you call it. I can sense things, sometimes before the happen. It is a hunting technique in my people, this extra sense from the Force. To my knowledge, we all have that capability. Flinging people away from me with a thought is a first for me.
"As for the staff, I told them about some dreams. I was having them months ago, soon after I was admitted. The doctor started me on some drug that began to suppress my ability to sense things. I stopped taking them last week when it was becoming apparent to me what the pills were doing. The medicine did stop the dreams however, but those are back now as well as my ability to sense things. I can not describe the sensation accurately. It is like having a second pair of eyes, or a second skin that feels the very motion of the universe. Something taken for granted until it is gone for a while."
*She snorted at the preposterous notion of a blood sample in his next question, Syren's finblades extended fully. The bony spine extended an extra foot from her arm, anchored as an extra joint at each wrist. Between the spine and her elbow, stretched a thin and venous flap of skin tinted a greenish blue. A tiny speck of fluid glistened at the tip of the hollow spine, almost pearly white, or clear amber depending on how the light caught it.* "Perhaps I misunderstand your question, Master Jedi, but my body produces a hemolyticneurotoxin naturally. Another hunting advantage. I can give you a demonstration on just how I hunt if you would like, but this toxin has proven to be quite fatal to Mon Calamari with just a scratch and I do not wish to test it on other sentients. I do not believe that I picked this particular ability up from Dac's waters. I also believe that I have been poked and prodded enough during my stay here that I would rather make due without bleeding anymore. If you want your blood sample, you will either have to drug me or persuade the hospital to give you their data.
I suppose I will have to make myself comfortable in an isolated prison cell here on Dac in order to keep the other prisoners safe, since I am being less than cooperative."
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Will Sontir
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Post by Will Sontir on Aug 18, 2013 21:00:36 GMT -8
Will squints in slight verbal confusion, and irritation. "What is it you hope to gain for being so defiant and uncooperative. I am giving you a free out here, gorgeous. You wanted out and a ride, here it is. And sure, maybe we could get it from them. But from the sounds of it-- it could have been one of them responsible for what has happened to you."
Will leaves a second for that statement to sink in. "You said the physicians gave you some sort of drug to suppress your Force capabilities and nightmares? Well if that is so, perhaps it was on purpose. Which means we can't trust the personnel here to give me a pure and unhampered sample of your blood. I would like a sample straight from the source, so I can trust it. It is a small continued inconvenience before your ensured freedom gracious mobility. What do you, say? Help me help you."
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Syren
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Post by Syren on Aug 19, 2013 8:05:46 GMT -8
"I am giving you a free out here, gorgeous." [/font][/quote] *The familiarity and slur of his tone set her teeth on edge. Syren's nostrils flared in anger, but she remained seated. She obviously did not approve of the nickname.*"You said the physicians gave you some sort of drug to suppress your Force capabilities and nightmares? Well if that is so, perhaps it was on purpose. Which means we can't trust the personnel here to give me a pure and unhampered sample of your blood. I would like a sample straight from the source, so I can trust it. It is a small continued inconvenience before your ensured freedom gracious mobility. What do you, say? Help me help you." "Are all Jedi this paranoid, or is it just you?" *She shrugged her shoulders.* "Perhaps a sleep aid, common to many patients in this hospital, merely has a side effect on Force sensitives previously untested, given the rarity and, cooperativeness, of such specimens." *She bent forward, looking into Will's eyes.* "Now tell me truthfully, Master Sontir, would you cooperate with someone who sounds as crazy as you just did?" |
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Will Sontir
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Post by Will Sontir on Aug 19, 2013 20:30:44 GMT -8
Will snorts at the paranoia comment. "Are all of your species so naive and defiant? This is a galactically renown medical facility, some of the physicians come on fellowship exchanges from the facilities and universities on Manaan. I know. I am the Watchmen here, sort of my job to look into this sort of thing; know the happenings and politics of what's going on here and this little corner of the galaxy. Paranoid is not the right word, lovely, it's cautious and thorough. You don't get to where I am by leaving stones unturned."
Will has settled into this cat and mouse game, he returns his arms to their natural cross-folded position across his broad chest and cracks a casual Corellian smile. "This is simple: You don't think you're a threat, and you don't think you're drugged. Give us a sample and we'll give you a ride." Will shrugs simply and spares a casual eye to the High Councilor who may object at Will's ireverance that is not becoming of his station in the Jedi Order, but tactics must be shifted in order to get results.
Yet something wasn't right here, if this being is so innocent and wants to leave so badly, why not cooperate and be on her way? What is she stalling for? It seems as if she wants to be put into custody and stay longer. . . .
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Syren
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Post by Syren on Aug 23, 2013 13:48:37 GMT -8
Will snorts at the paranoia comment. "Are all of your species so naive and defiant? This is a galactically renown medical facility, some of the physicians come on fellowship exchanges from the facilities and universities on Manaan. I know. I am the Watchmen here, sort of my job to look into this sort of thing; know the happenings and politics of what's going on here and this little corner of the galaxy. Paranoid is not the right word, lovely, it's cautious and thorough. You don't get to where I am by leaving stones unturned."
Will has settled into this cat and mouse game, he returns his arms to their natural cross-folded position across his broad chest and cracks a casual Corellian smile. "This is simple: You don't think you're a threat, and you don't think you're drugged. Give us a sample and we'll give you a ride." Will shrugs simply and spares a casual eye to the High Councilor who may object at Will's ireverance that is not becoming of his station in the Jedi Order, but tactics must be shifted in order to get results. Yet something wasn't right here, if this being is so innocent and wants to leave so badly, why not cooperate and be on her way? What is she stalling for? It seems as if she wants to be put into custody and stay longer. . . .
She turned her head to the side, as if she were trying to pinpoint a sound far away. In actuality, Syren was trying to understand how she was able to understand the body language of this alien so well. While in the hospital, she had had plenty of time to watch, perhaps you could say "observe," the Mon Calamari medical staff and patients of varying species, but humans should have been a foreign entity to her.
She slid her eye warily back towards Sontir, trying to gauge whether she should bring this up. What she knew without a doubt: she did not trust this person.*"Are you done with your cliche, 'good cop' routine?" *She turned her head back to face him.* "I'm not going to give you a blood sample." *She stood up slowly.* "And I'm going to leave. Now if you have a disagreement with that, then we had best discuss as to why that is." *Syren continued to face the pesky hoomin simultaneously wanting a cheezburger with a sudden ferocity that clearly presented itself with a loud, rumbling stomach noises.* "Better make this quick, I have a metabolism that doesn't like to be kept waiting." |
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Will Sontir
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Post by Will Sontir on Sept 1, 2013 14:27:04 GMT -8
This one has grown to be extremely frustrating. But Will could do nothing with her against her will; even if he was apt to perform a Mind Trick on her-- Will doubted it will work. Master Son'tir takes a deep breath and throws an eye at a surprisingly silent High Councilor. Will shrugs, if Jago had any objections-- he will voice them himself. If not, the Syren will have to just be on her way.
Will squints his eyes in frustration, and his brows burrow deep into each other, his voice as even as possible. "Don't make us regret this. Go in peace, find your own ride out of here. If you were drugged, we will have to find another way to figure it out." Will looks again to Jago, and back to Syren."May the Force be with you."
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on May 9, 2017 10:48:13 GMT -8
The war had started months ago, but work was still underway on the Alliances high command base. They had started with a temporary set up, due to the fact that they had no idea how large of a threat they were facing. But after Dantooine, and more scouting reports came in, the true threat that faced them became more apparent. So work began on establishing a more permanent and well equipped base of operations. People of all races within the Alliance walked the hallways attending to various tasks. Victor looked like any of them, except for the fact that he wore a suit and sported a rank insignia marking him as a Marshal. He was one of a handful of high ranking military commanders within the Alliance. He worked alongside a number of other Marshals, Generals, and Admirals, who reported to the Jedi and the Heads of State of each world within the Alliance. It made things somewhat messy at times, but it was the way they had all agreed to work together. And so long as they continued to fight back against the First Order without issue, then he was more than happy to fall in line.
He strolled the hallways, heading for the central command room. Behind him were the twin Jedi Knights known as Phoenix and Angel. They had volunteered to protect and work alongside Victor. They owed the man a great debt, after he had saved them as children. Taking them in when their parents had passed away. He had raised them as his own, and when the time came, got them accepted into the Jedi Order. Their assignment to his protection detail was the first time they had seen him since their induction into the Order. Their training had made them stronger and drawn them closer together. Where others would have distanced themselves, Angel and Phoenix had proven that they worked far better together. Victor had taken some amusement from that fact. Remembering that their parents had been much the same way.
The doors to the central command room opened then, allowing the trio access. Victor wasted no time in making his way over to the hub, where holo displays showed casualty numbers, troop deployments, and a giant display of the galaxy showed held territory, among other things. The entire war effort was being commanded and run through this room, and many satellite nodes similar to it, throughout the galaxy. But this was its beating heart. One could not help but be awed by it all. So much power at your fingertips, all to fight back against the Imperials. It also spoke to the urgency of their cause, that they required such means. But it would not have been possible without the commitment and willingness of every man and woman to give their life and time to protect their freedom "it's glorious..."
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on May 29, 2017 16:39:24 GMT -8
The Captain piloted the Serene Moondancer down to the city below. The cruiser touched down at the star port, before the cargo bay door was opened, allowing the cargo to begin being unloaded. Han got up atop the X-wing to watch as the cargo loaders came and went with the crates, making sure they took everything. He occasionally glanced towards the crew areas, waiting to see if the rest of his crew mates would come join him. Thankfully they would be afforded a couple days 'shore' leave while they were here
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on May 29, 2017 17:53:01 GMT -8
Shortly after landing, Z'har joined the jawa in the cargo bay.
-Z'har
So you are still here as well? The gungan & the twi'lek already headed off somewhere. They both looked to be in a hurry to leave.
He hadn't told anyone, but he had taken a moment to check their quarters on the way back on a hunch. Sure enough both rooms had been cleared out. It had been a fairly common practice back in his days with the merchant caravan. People would join up, work for a while, & then vanish into the local population when they hit the planet they wanted. Even when they skipped out before they could collect their pay, they still usually came out ahead compared to buying passage. Depending on how long they stayed on the ship, they could even earn a little on the trip. It wasn't too much trouble as the captain usually saved a good bit on wages & there was always a steady steam of willing ship hands at any port in the galaxy. It would be interesting to see who else on the small crew would stay. After that would be the usual talent hunt for replacements.
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Clem
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My Pancakes!!!
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Post by Clem on May 29, 2017 18:50:09 GMT -8
The trip had been relatively smooth so far. Clem managed to get lost on the ship a couple times, he didn't spend a lot of times on ships after all.
He was making his way down to the cargo bay having been counting his paces unconsciously, as it was a habit he picked up while he was eyeless. Looking up he found himself at the entrance of the Cargo bay, spotting Z'har and Han he directed his steps in their direction. Unfortunately for him his sudden break in pace went unnoticed by a mouse droid passing him going in the opposite direction and his step, rather than finding the floor, found the top of the mouse droid. The sudden shift of his foot threw him off balance sending him toppling into the control panel. Not much inside the bay would be heard but the sudden turning off of the lights would probably draw the attention of some. Those that chose to look to see would was going on would possibly see Clem standing and poking at the control panel managing to close and lock the door before finding the right setting to turn the lights back on.
He reached up and scratched slightly below the thin spot of hair on the back of his head before turning back towards Z'har and Han, shrugging slightly. Getting to within easy chatting distance he simply stated.
Sorry about that. Tripped on a mouse droid. He shook his head slightly. I suppose it could have been worse, at least I made it in one piece without destroying anything. He said this as he leaned in slightly on the X-wing.
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on May 29, 2017 20:13:29 GMT -8
There was a rather worrying pop from within the X-wing as the man leaned against it. deciding to be nice, Z'har reopened the doors for the loading droids. Within moments he was back with the other two.
-Z'har
We will need to pick up a few new crew members while here. Either of you know the usual routine the captain takes for recruiting?
Judging from what he had seen on the first trip on the ship, it required surprisingly little crew for a ship as large as it was. Excluding the three of them in the hanger, & the captain herself, the ship only needed ten other ship hands. He wasn't sure how many of the four mechanics had stayed on, as they general kept to the little turf in engineering. They rarely ventured toward the front of the ship as they had their own quarters & common area back there. He hadn't been back there since the ship had landed, but usually mechanics picked a ship & stayed with it. That left six slots up front to fill, assuming the captain didn't plan on taking on passengers & wanted to keep crew to a minimum.
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