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Kella
Fire and Blood
4,089 posts
5 likes
Fire cannot kill a dragon.
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last online Oct 30, 2014 9:41:46 GMT -5
Master
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Sept 2, 2009 23:36:55 GMT -5
Post by Kella on Sept 2, 2009 23:36:55 GMT -5
It was simple, really.
If you took the Partial Longitudinal Vector, and weighted it with the Partial Latitudinal Vector, then the range of solution became much more limited. Using Kroid's variable for the presence of deep space, factored with the narrower range, and three solutions became clear. Two of these were uninhabited planets, unsuitable for any purpose, let alone finding refuge upon. One contained a small mining facility.
Child's play. November inferred that Foxtrot simply hadn't had the intelligence to deduce the planet's location. It was not a statement of vanity, simply of fact. It had seemed that back at Green Meadows, November was one of the very few who was actually able to apply Kroid's variable. And a very many seemed to have never heard of it. But that was of little consequence; the ends were more important than the means.
And the ends, or more specifically the end, was a planet called Ruusan. Temperate Climate, Mountainous terrain, Plains, several native species, one sentient. 'Bouncers' they were called. A small mining community, spread out over several settlements. Little more of interest.
Save for two lone assassins.
It hadn't been hard to stow away. The payload from the mines was delivered in large containers, and those containers shipped back empty. So why check what holds nothing? It was the perfect opening.
And so November had slipped from the ship, slinking in the shadows of the Ruusan port.
And now she was walking through a throng of people. She had never seen so many in one place before... they clustered around one another, and the noise was overwhelming. Did people find this clustering attractive? Or was it some base instinct, like animals huddle for warmth? November did not understand, and this bothered her.
But it did not bother her enough to disturb her icy countenance; it was a minor annoyance, much like a buzzing insect. Relatively inconsequential. And so she focused her evergreen eyes. She could never hope to interrogate the whole crowd. She needed to break this down, make it smaller. So she would pick one person, and start with that. Yes, this was a plan with a high probability of efficient success. Her gaze focused on one man. Human, average height, above-average girth, brown hair, grey eyes. He was behind a small counter, and his subtle mannerisms had revealed him to be a confident man.
"You, did you see a man and a woman come through here?" She proceeded to give him concise physical descriptions, accurate to the letter. She shifted forty of her facial muscles to a precise degree, in the expression this man would recognize as a smile.
"What, you some kinda.... bounty hunter, or something?"
Silence. Her facial muscles she relaxed just enough to create a patient expression.
"Ehh, didn't mean to offend. Nah, nah I didn't see anyone like that. And I'd remember. I see darn well everyone who comes from this port. But, eh, Anything else I can help ya with? Sell ya a tonic?" He looked up at her hopefully.
"No." Again she deepened her smile, making certain to crinkle her eyes just enough to indicate sincerity. "Thank you."
And then she simply walked off, not a look behind. The salesman watched her for a moment, marveling at her peculiarity. And then he continue selling his wares, as if nothing had ever happened. Scams don't run themselves, y'know.
~~~
Plains stretched out, rolling below. Wheat waved this way and that. November was in the Ruusan wilderness. Several testimonies had convinced her that the craft piloted by Delta and Echo had not landed at the port, but it was indeed on Ruusan. Nothing unpredicted there.
And now she was waiting. Not waiting for a thought to come, or for the day to turn. She was waiting because she had not questioned all the sentients of this planet... And the missing puzzle-pieces were called Bouncers, so named because of the way they propelled themselves into collision with the ground, to bounce higher into the air, propelled by the winds, and drifting across the plains. A fascinating, efficient mode of travel. They must have had a curious body-density to be so near neutral-boyancy, in an average atmospheric environment. November would have loved to examine one... but she doubted they'd take kindly to dissection. Sentients rarely did.
And now they were not far off. As they neared, blurred shapes and indistinct impressions became clear, crisp images. She could see the feathery texture of their soft green hide, make out the distinct shape of their trailing tendrils. This was aided by the fact that she could see three times farther, or at three times the distance-clarity, when compared to a baseline human.
Being a biomedical experiment had its perks.
A hundred clicks. Fifty clicks. Twenty-five. Ten. Arrival.
November watched in curiosity as the bouncers refrained from another ricochet, and instead rooted their tendrils. Momentum swung them around, the wind still pulling at them, tossing their green fur like moss in the air. November tilted her head to refresh the angle of her vision, studying them closely. They had formed an approximate circle around here...
And then she heard it.
"Calm, Relax... soothing..."
Words. Words with meaning, but that meaning only comprised other words. And so they held no significance, save for sounds strung together.
"Calm... Peace... Why you listen, not?"[/color]
But that was not the most curious thing. These voices were not made of sound. They were made of... of something else. They placed themselves directly in her conscious, yet with a voice distinctly alien. How strange. November's curiosity flared. A million questions raced through her mind; How was this possible? Did they have some sort of transmitter? An antennae? Did it work at the infrared level, like radio waves? Was it merely an illusionary trick, based on transmitting sound waves into bone?
Yet she should only ask the important questions. But answers came first.
"I can hear you. I am listening."
"You feel? Nothing? You feel?"[/color]
Feel? This creature could not be referring to touch; that was out of context. So it must be referring to emotion... could these creatures somehow sense her emotions? Pick up on the physiological clues? Perhaps. Other sentients were known to have the ability. So why did November feel no new emotions? 'Calm', 'Peace', so these were emotions? the sound of their names gave no insight into what they were.
Little did November know, her RELIC was operating overtime. She was not in danger, and so the gates had not opened. But the surgance of the physiological response created by the Bouncers was a strong one, one the RELIC was not accustomed to. And yet, November felt none of this, though she had the distinct feeling she was missing something important... and this bothered her. It bothered her greatly. She was observant, she didn't miss things. She should be able to understand what they were getting at, why couldn't she figure out what they were talking about? But no, November denied the frustration that surged within her. It was... motivation. Not an emotion. She didn't have to feel these things. She could make them go away. She was making them go away.
Too bad she was the only one who believed those lies.
"No! Calm. Peace. You feel. Frustrated? Be at peace, be calm... You still not, listen."[/color]
November cursed herself and bit her tongue. Like a grounding magnet, the pain helped re-focus her mind. She was on a mission. She had a purpose.
"A man and a woman. A species like mine." She again gave their physical descriptions. "Have you seen them? Can you tell me where they are?"
Suddenly, November felt an outside emotion cut into her conscious. Unease. Uncertainty. She knew it well. Far too well. She started, for though it was familiar, it had not come from herself. ... from the Bouncers, then? Yes. Quickly, the Bouncers picked upon this echo and checked the emotion. The air was neutral once more.
"Seen them... yes. Twenty bounds sun-rise. thirty bounds into-wind."[/color]
The numbers almost fell together of their own accord, so quickly did November's mind spin them into something useful. Taking current wind direction, that was forty bounds north-east.
"But you, may be. Not go to them, want. Fear, anger, confusion. Not calm. You not listen. But, fight back, they. Wary.[/color]
November was silent a moment. And then she nodded. She noticed the whispers, barely audible, that seemed to be passing from Bouncer to Bouncer. The nervousness was there again... easing into her mind like those feathery green Tendrils...
"Why you no listen? Understand, not. You not ever feel? But you feel anger. Why never feel calm?"
November furrowed her brow. What were they talking about? This 'calm', what did it mean? It made no sense... her frustration writhed again, boiling to the surface once more, never really gone. And then they murmured louder. November tried to stay focused. She would watch them leave, calculate the distance of a bound, and then move on from there... but it seemed that they would not leave until she satisfied them. And still they murmured. And how could she satisfy them if she did not know what they wanted?!
"Calm..."
"I don't under--"
A sharp pain in her skull! Like fire! Under her scalp, inside her head...
Black.
~~~
Her RELIC had overloaded. That was the simplest explanation. Perhaps the bouncers had tried too hard with their 'calm' idea. And November was feeling no new emotion now, so perhaps it had just been a temporary overload; perhaps it had resolved itself. Yet was that really a good thing?
And now she was crawling along the ground, grass and dead plant matter groping at her arms. Burs snagged at her hair, lodging in the braid, but she paid then no mind. Scrubby brush sent dappling patterns across her, cast pale purple in the first breath of Sunrise. A gentle breeze ruffled the stalks around her, masking the skitt, skitt of her progress. The encounter with the Bouncers had left her unsettled, and she had awoken from her unconsciousness alone. Yet she had lost only a few hours, according to the stars, which had just begun to push through the blazing red of sunset. She had not been so unsettled, however, as to be able to travel twenty-bounds sunrise, thirty-bounds into-wind. The distance she had covered in the duration of the night.
And there was ship number Xo3A3. The Deliverance. An apt name. It had delivered Delta and Echo from Green Meadows, from that oppression. But November had had no deliverance, save for herself. This was interesting. She would ponder it later. Now was not the time.
She was fifty yards from the camp. She could not risk growing any closer: There was only so much sneaking could be done between fellow assassins.
And so November took the approach most likely to result in success. She would sit. And she would wait. If she approached them, it could be interpreted as a threat; a basic mechanism of fight-or-flight. And yet, if she continued sneaking around, she would eventually be discovered, and so could also be perceived as a threat. That was completely opposite of her intent. For her motivation in tracking these fellow Assassins down, in applying her mind wholly to the cause, was not to bring them down. It was twofold: To get answers, and to join them. There was safety in numbers. At least, that was the theory the natural world had so gracefully employed. Many still survived alone, but November was intent on increasing her chances of survival. There was far too much to be learned of this world, to leave it so soon...
And so November pushed her palms deep into the ground, drew her knees up to her chest. And now her form finally rose from the grass, just as the first rays of sunrise touched her face. She let her knees remain below her, legs folded, and she straightened her back so the vertebrae aligned perfectly. A comfortable, nonthreatening position, in full-sight. And November waited to be noticed.
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Dire Wolf
So who's ready to help me sock ol Adolf on the jaw?!
2,894 posts
49 likes
Have dakka will travel
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last online May 6, 2020 18:55:51 GMT -5
Master
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Sept 4, 2009 0:18:37 GMT -5
Post by Dire Wolf on Sept 4, 2009 0:18:37 GMT -5
Down. Delta's body lie parallel to the ground, suspended only by his muscular arms. He slowly allowed his elbows to bend, bringing his body closer to the ground. He allowed a brief moment for the energy that built up in his descent to settle. Up. The mucles that rippled beneath his bare chest flexed and bunched together, forcing his arms to straighten out and his body to raise. Delta took care to keep his back straight as a board during all of this, proper form was essential.
A small grin purshed his lips as he repeated this motion hundreds of times. His muscles cried at him to stop, begged him to cease this torture that he was putting them through. A flame lit inside the muscles that flowed underneath the tan flesh of his chest and arms. It burned like a wild fire throughout his upper body, almost ordering him to stop with every up and down motion. But he did not. The man took pleasure in this pain, for it was only his own weakness leaving the body. It was a necessary struggle, much like the one that the butterfly underweant as it fought its way out of its cacoon.
The man gave a stressed sigh as his body ascended for the four hundredth and final time. This was a ritual that he completed every morning, afternoon, and night, every day that he could. Today was certainly no exception. His knees quickly met with the durasteel plating as his arms straightened out, his muscles quickly thanked him for the small mercy. Delta slowly stood up to his knees, straightening his back out to its full height, and slipped into his white tank top.
In the few short days since their talk with the Bouncers, Delta had been doing little. In all honesty, he had done nothing to warrant any kind of notice towards his location. Nothing but working out, hiding, and the most challenging thing of all: working out his raging emotions. His mind, it just wasn't used to the chemicals that now raged about within its confines. Previously they were kept in check by the RELIC chip, but after they were deactivated... well... there was nothing to stop the raging beast.
Yet another sigh escaped his lips as he stepped towards the viewport and simply gazed out at the rolling planes and the thick forests that dotted Ruusan's horizon. The sight that met his eyes was beyond beautiful, almost indescribable, all because of the wonderous things that were his eyes. Those blue orbs that were set within his head were worth more to Green meadows than his weapon, for they had a specialized lens that enhanced his natural sight three fold. A tear welled up in his eye as he gazed out at the marvelous beauty that his enhanced eyes brought him. he wanted nothing more than to simply cry at the sight. But wait. A movement caught his eye. It wasn't sudden, like the aggressive movement of a predatory beast, but it was calm. Smoothe. Pacific.
Delta did not see anything peaceful in what he saw, however, it was one of the twenty six: November. She must have been after Delta and Echo, she just had to be. The boy moved to grab his rifle and moved out towards the entrance ramp of the ship. But wait... if she was there to take the two back, then why did she announce herself? Why did the woman stand when she could have snuck up to the ship just as easily? The first thing that flashed across Delta's mind was "trap." She was not alone, and was simply trying to draw him and Echo out of a secure and familiar location.
His first instinct was to simply close up the ramp and fly off into the stars, but he wasn't entirely sure where Echo was. If she was on planet, then she'd be stranded and alone. Anger. Annoyance. Sadness. Frusteration. All of the emotions lit within the boy's mind at the thought, each emotion aimed towards a facet of the problem. After a brief moment in time, the boy stepped down off of the ramp with his rifle leveled on November. Should she make any sudden movements he'd instantly fire a three round burst into her belly. The hypersonic rounds would take about .05 seconds to reach her, she looked to be about fifty yards away, giving her next to no time to react. Should she already be dodging he could have another trio on an area the size of a penny within another half a second.
The boy extended his left palm towards her in the "stop" position. This reduced his accuracy, now he could hit the size of a fifty cent piece, but now he told her via body language that should she move it was likely that she'd be perforated before she can think. "Come here, slowly," he paused, taking his left hand and pointing to a position about thirty feet away from where he was standing. Any closer and he risked her being close enough to disarm him, for within twenty feet its simply smarter to switch to a knife. Cold blue eyes bore a hole through to November's soul as he spoke in a short, somewhat aggressive tone, "why are you here?"
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Kella
Fire and Blood
4,089 posts
5 likes
Fire cannot kill a dragon.
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last online Oct 30, 2014 9:41:46 GMT -5
Master
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Sept 5, 2009 15:15:22 GMT -5
Post by Kella on Sept 5, 2009 15:15:22 GMT -5
November had not seen Delta since he had escaped. He had changed tremendously. Once, his face had been pacific, still, without variation. He had been cold, efficient, and even. They all had. And now, she looked upon him and the difference was as night and day. His eyes were not the clear blue they once had been; now they were wet, several of the blood vessels dilated. His face was contorted into an expression of strong emotion; brows furrowed in anger, the skin under his eyes tight with suspicion. And even his stance was different; aggressive; she could see the muscles twitch ever so slightly underneath his skin. Gone was the stoic Delta she had once known; but there was no mistaking the identity of the one who emerged so suddenly from that ship. November knew her own transformation had been subtle. She knew the way her muscle twitched, the set of her eyes.
Didn't she?
Accursed doubt. She let it fade into the back of her mind, as she addressed the current situation.
"Come here, slowly," Delta said.
November glanced at the position he indicated, and then at the rifle in his hands. It was... in her best interest to consent, she deduced. One wrong move, and she'd be in more pieces than the training droids she'd once been taught to shred. It was certainly an unpleasant fate.
"I am here because I think you have answers. I think you know what it is the Green Meadows did to us." Her voice was even, clear, and no louder than absolutely necessary for Delta to hear. She paused, taking a slow step forward. Hisss, swish, went the grass at her feet, swirling in the tension that hung in the air, thick and visible as fog.
"I am here because there is safety in numbers, and I am all alone." There was aggression and distrust in Delta's blue, oceanic eyes, but this caused no fear in November's own. Her evergreens stared right back at Delta, clear and cool like a forest morning. Her slow, deliberate steps continued as he spoke again.
"I am here to warn you that Foxtrot is on your tail. Our tail. She and many of the twenty-six are hunting us tirelessly." Another breeze sprung up, tugging at the whisps of auburn-brown hair which had slipped from the braid that traced down the sides of her scalp, then rested on the back of her neck, tail of the braid settling beneath her shoulder blades. Honey blonde streaks pulled back from either temple, while a stubborn tuft of red-orange was tucked behind her ear.
"And I am here because I have no other place to go." These words were spoken as November stopped, her feet planted on exactly the spot to which Delta had referred. Her posture was relaxed, and t.a.i.n.t., her dart-gun, still slung over a shoulder, unloaded. She was in her survival gear, deep brown carbon-mesh clinging closely to her form, superimposed by plates of leather, in mingled shades of red and orange. Her belt held a field knife, a compass, several silver canisters, and other pieces of standard issue gear. She made no move to touch any of it, and instead extended her hands, palms upwards.
"I suspect you might misinterpret my intent, but please know, I mean only to offer my aid."
What was that sensation at the back of her tongue, that feeling that made her muscles tighten ever so slightly? It was... it was doubt. November was doubting herself, doubting her plan. What if Delta did not trust her, and chose instead to shoot her on the spot. What if it turned out they were just as hostile as Green Meadows? These were all possibilities with high probability, an November berated herself for having not thought of them sooner. She began to process these possibilities, plans of action, as she still looked upon Delta, keeping careful eye on every detail so as to be best able to anticipate his judgment. He was so much... so much angrier than she had expected him to be. So much less restrained than she had hoped. As she watched, a new emotion curled sickly into her stomach.
Dread.
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Squee
The Keeper
2,286 posts
95 likes
I am Deception, and I defy your holiest moralities.
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last online Oct 24, 2016 0:33:56 GMT -5
Master
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Sept 5, 2009 20:43:27 GMT -5
Post by Squee on Sept 5, 2009 20:43:27 GMT -5
((AGH! Okay, first of all, did NOT intend on this post to be this long. Kinda ran away with it. Second, Kella, I blame you for stretching this two and a half page post to a three and a half page post. >.< -shakes fist- I had this totally typed out and then you had to go and post again. I can't help but feel a little irritated because I thought there had been a posting sequence set up, but, I guess not. Can I go after Wolf from now on? Thanks.))
Her lungs felt vacant and numb in her chest, just enough until she inhaled. Her airway, resembling the hot edge of a knife, seared instantly past her throat from each breath heaved in a controlled pattern and cut right into her lungs. The inside heated up, burning, making vacant occupied with air. And as the lungs seemed to fill, the area within the base of her neck seemed to resent the air, making each breath in the humid air feel as if she were in a barren desert. The painfully hot pressure in her lungs dispersed as she exhaled, deflating and feeling in the chest was gone again.
Echo hardly noticed the tiny, gentle, multiple spasms of the muscles in her thighs and calves. They were little squeaks of protest that she could not hear. Her triceps and deltoid muscle also twitched from time to time, and her biceps throbbed almost pleasantly. Her abdominals were warm and stretched, every joint fluid and every inch of her body limber and prepared. Exposed skin glistened, a sheet of sweat settled over her body. It was heavy, feeling thick, and the humidity did not do much to lighten the sort of strange burden. It made it linger and didn’t help much into actually making her feel cool. When she stopped, it would be a while before everything evaporated. Of course she would shower before then. No use going around stinking.
Her bare feet were dirty. The backs of calves were slashed with stripes of brown: dirt. Dirt disturbed on her playing field. Her created playing field. She had made it. She had tore up and dug out every last bit of plant. She had found clay and spent an afternoon of a day hauling pounds of clay from the nearest stream to this naked strip in the grass made just along the lowest side of the ship. Echo had packed the clay against the ground, leveling as best she could and let it harden overnight. The following morning she had spread a small layer of unearthed dirt over top of the clay. She had invented her game field. Rummaging and being curious throughout the ship, Echo had found a compartment in the storage garage. To her surprise, something had been in it. It had been round, ball-shaped. And it had the qualities to bounce. A bouncing ball. Bringing it to her exercise and game platform, Echo had created a game for herself. One had to be agile. One had to be quick. One had to endure both for long strands of time.
Though Echo could not remember, she had obtained this ball from a child on one of her missions. That compartment she had designed to hide objects from all eyes. Her mind had been thoughtful, creative, even somewhat rogue and rebellious against Green Meadows and its caretakers and instructors. Anything without a tag from Green Meadows could be stored in it to hide it from the coated men and women. Reverse that, objects could be hidden from outside parties (other than Green Meadows) in case the ship was searched for whatever reasons and/or excuses. At the time Echo had accepted the ball from the child, she did not know any significance behind it, but she had obliged to hold onto it. The boy had told her she could play with it, have fun, and smile… because she was pretty, and pretty girls needed to smile.
But Echo couldn’t recall this memory. She did not remember putting the ball into storage. There was no little boy in her limited memory of the past few years. No nice little boy who said she could have his toy if it brought joy to her life. All she knew is she had found it and she had incorporated it into an exercise game. By playing this game Echo paid no heed to the strains of her body and how it pleaded for her to stop moving, stop making it work so hard to catch the ball.
The ball had to hit the side of the ship. She had to bounce it hard enough so it did. Echo didn’t keep track at how hard she threw it. The ball didn’t have to hit a certain point on the ship’s hull. It just had to hit the ship and ricochet back to the ground and Echo had to catch it. During the game, with enough momentum going and all thought lost except “catch, throw, chase”, the ball would develop a brain of its own. The challenge came from when the ball bounced too far and Echo had the drive and urgency to chase and catch it. Half the time she succeeded in doing all these things. At times she bounced the ball too light and it bounded beneath the ship. Other times she failed to catch the ball and it bobbed among the grass behind her. Then it was time to start the game again.
With the back of her wrist she rubbed the sweat from her eye and then held the ball again. She braced the rounded part of her foot on the ground, toes massaging the dirt as she waited on herself eagerly. Auburn hair stuck to her cheeks, the back of her neck, and to her forehead and some strands tried to deny her vision as they hung before her eyes. Echo counted to three and threw the ball against the ship. She pitched it at an angle; it glanced off the hull at an angle to her right. Her eyes tracked the trajectory for but a moment and did her best to guess where it might try to land. Echo twisted and tossed her body backwards, arching her back steeply. Her hands hit the clay and soil. Her legs whipped overhead. As her toes scraped the packed earth again she was catapulting head over heels again, her legs separating one after another to decrease the velocity. One foot touched the ground and the ball was in her hands. Again, she tossed it. The ball struck the ground and ascended toward the ship again. It came back faster than she expected and Echo darted to the side, panting, leaning for the ball that brushed just under her fingertips and rolled into the tall grass. Coming to a stop, Echo tripped over her toes. With a startled cry at the immediate shock of pain, Echo’s body smacked the ground and she rolled best she could, the clay beneath the dirt scraped across her back as the roll all but failed, taking a thin layer of flesh with it.
“Ugh…” was the instant reply, hands flopping outstretched from her sides. Dirt had gotten into the short shorts she was wearing. The scraps on the middle and lower - and it felt on her wings of her shoulder blades, too – of her back were already beginning to sting. Maybe she should’ve worn a shirt rather than tank-top she had ripped in half to expose her midriff and back. She had done so to make herself cooler when she felt too warm while playing her game. “Stupid… ball…” she groaned, arching her neck back to rest her gray eyes on the wavering lengths of grass where the ball had disappeared into.
She rolled over onto her stomach but kept her wait on her hands and toes to make sure her belly didn’t touch the ground. Already there was too much dirt clinging to her body. She didn’t want to feel anymore dirty than she was. Moving her feet beneath her body, Echo stood straight. Mumbling and grumbling under her breath, she shook her legs to dislodge as much of the dirt from her shorts as possible. She took the ends, shook them, and stretched them back into place. “Need a… frackin’ shower. Wouldn’t’ve needed a frackin’ shower if… dirt didn’t get everywhere. Stupid dirt.” Echo then took the waistband at her lower back and fluttered that back and forth, feeling as the loose soil and fall down against her legs. Once more, she stretched the shorts to the proper place. Sighing, she stepped from her game platform into the grass to retrieve her ball. Finding it, Echo tossed it back onto the platform. She was about to begin again when she better of it, snatched the ball back up, and trudged back through the grass to board the ship and shower.
One foot on the entrance ramp, Echo picked up sounds. Footsteps. Delta must be coming out. She raised her chin, her lower lip separated from the top to voice a greeting to him. That greeting stopped clear on her tongue tip when she saw Delta came out with his rifle at hand and barreling down the ramp toward her. Lightning happened on her hands as she brought the ball to bear and her body tensed in defense. Something had triggered in her mind Delta was coming for her, and there was a surge of urgent panic and adrenaline, lined lightly with the red fabric of anger. Would he be betraying her? Now? Of all times? She wasn’t quite sure what she would do with a little ol’ toy ball but if Delta planned on aiming that damn rifle of his…
He continued right by her. Echo blinked, twisting her neck to follow his movement as she lowered the ball. “Delta?” Puzzled, the feeling increasing when Delta lifted a hand, Echo bounded after him while tucking the ball under her arm. “Wait, I don’t get it, what the… Oh.” Echo stopped almost as soon as Delta had and lingered just over behind his left shoulder. Her eyes locked onto November, who was sitting some distance in front of them. She swallowed and slunk from Delta’s left side to his right side, dropping the toy she carried with her. Echo let Delta speak for the both of them, seeing as he was the one with the rifle. The best Echo could do at this distance was get shot if November carried her weapons, which Echo didn’t doubt she did.
Nervous, she waited for the blond-haired woman to come closer. Was she after them? Echo didn’t recall November being with the six of them that escaped Green Meadows. “That’s because she isn’t, Echo, you dummy.” Echo shivered at the thought of being tracked. Why would they be tracked? What could the men and women in the coats possibly want with them now that they were broken? Echo had considered a fact they could be fixed, but she was beginning to wonder if the issue she and Delta had was too big, too complicated… too broke to be fixed. Would they send people to kill them? But why? She frowned and shifted just a little more behind Delta, feeling comfortable now about the rifle in his hands.
“We were found, Delta,” she whispered to him.
November was speaking before she arrived at the spot Delta had indicated, telling them she believed they had answers. That they understood and knew what Green Meadows had done to them. She claimed she was alone, and that there were others coming after them. Echo’s heart jumped as if it had been electrocuted. Foxtrot. She remembered Foxtrot. Others. How many others? There were five others Echo knew was just like her. She was nervous and unsure about November and it was showing in her gray eyes. She wasn’t quite sure if she would buy the other woman’s story since it would be based on word of mouth.
No place else to go… Echo almost wanted to snarl back a challenge. If November hadn’t any place else to go, how come she left Green Meadows? If she could find and come to her and Delta, she could have gotten anywhere else. She could have gone to any other planet. She could have left them alone to be by themselves. Be alone by herself. Echo bit her tongue, fighting back the urge to make the remarks. There was a fierce clash of emotions within the young woman, different feelings followed by different almost outrageous thoughts of what November could actually be here for. She forced herself to exhale and attempt to clear her head, though evil, cruel whispers resounded within her head, telling her “this is truth” or “for a fact”.
“We don’t know. We don’t know what they did to us. Quite frankly, I don’t think I really care. As long as I remain far away from the others, I’m fine.” She was curt and spoke clearly from her spot next to Delta. She flicked her stone gray gaze up at Delta. Echo wasn’t sure how much to speak or what more to say. So she had stopped, figuring Delta would say something more about himself since she had not spoken much on his behalf. She almost wished he would send the blonde woman on her way, telling her to get out, get away, and find somewhere else or someone else to stalk after.
“Such hostility all of a sudden…”
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Dire Wolf
So who's ready to help me sock ol Adolf on the jaw?!
2,894 posts
49 likes
Have dakka will travel
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last online May 6, 2020 18:55:51 GMT -5
Master
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Sept 6, 2009 15:09:13 GMT -5
Post by Dire Wolf on Sept 6, 2009 15:09:13 GMT -5
((OOC: Meh, we really didn't have one set. We do now, kay? I'm guessing it will go like this: Ash, Me, Squee. Okay?))
Oceanic blue eyes grew wide in their socket for a mere moment as Echo's soft whisper drifted into his ears, "we were found, Delta." Fear. It coiled around his mind. Were they truly so easy to find? Those blue eyes shifted from November back to the Deliverance for a brief moment, perhaps there was a tracking device on the ship? No... he had found and deactivated the company tracking device shortly after breaking Ralltiir's orbit. The pools of blue in Delta's head narrowed as he looked back at November, distrust running rampant throughout his system.
An almost quizzical expression contorted about his face as she answered his question. Why would she think that? "Because you were a part of the six that left, Delta, and it had to be for some reason. November is smart. Very smart." The man drew a breath to speak, but apparently the blond woman wasn't finished.
The boy didn't trust November. It would have just been so much simpler if he allowed his finger to twitch backwards. Now that she was closer, the hypersonic slugs made of a ferro-tungsten alloy would reach her body in one tenth of a second. Delta angled his rifle up a little further, when it came this close he was a reflexive shooter. The boy simply lined his barrel up with the woman's center mass, not needing to aim or use one of those "laser pointers" that most used as an ameteurish crutch.
Delta ceased the slight movement in his rifle when November mentioned Foxtrot. If she was after them, why would the woman mention her partner? That gave Echo and himself an unneeded advantage, as knowledge was power. But what if it was all just a ploy to get the pair to let their guard down? What if November was paired up with Foxtrot, and the latter woman was simply waiting for the opportune moment to strike? He doubted that she was paired up with Foxtrot, once Echo showed herself the two would have no-doubt struck.
So then... what if November's real goal was to kill Delta in his sleep? Or worse... Echo. The boy just wouldn't be able to handle that, the death of his long-time partner. Even at Green Meadows the two were often paired together during training excersizes. Their set of natural skills complimented each other perfectly: He was ranged, she was martial arts. He was strong, she was fast. Anything he couldn't use his bombs to blow through, she could slice into and open up. The list went on and on, and it seemed that she was good at everything he wasn't naturally inclined to do. Likewise, he was good at everything she wasn't naturally inclined to do. They were the perfect team.
Echo's words threw the boy back into what he was doing, luckily November hadn't made an aggressive move while he was lost in his thoughts. He nodded in agreement with Echo's words. The boy wanted no part of Green Meadows, he didn't want to be fixed, and he didn't care what they did to him. All that he cared about, oddly enough, was Echo. But then... she was the only person in the universe that he trusted fully. It wasn't a stretch to believe that. "I don't know what they did to us, November. All that I do know is that I don't really care, either," his words echoed Echo's (what an odd sentence). After a brief moment of thought he spoke again, "I wouldn't rush into thinking that we will accept you with open arms if I were you, November. How do we know that you won't try to kill us in our sleep?"
He thought for another second more. No matter what the woman's answer to the next question was... they would be leaving the beauty of Ruusan. Soon. The question he asked sounded more like a statement than a question, almost as if he was ordering her to tell him. "How did you find us."
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Kella
Fire and Blood
4,089 posts
5 likes
Fire cannot kill a dragon.
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last online Oct 30, 2014 9:41:46 GMT -5
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Sept 7, 2009 11:57:59 GMT -5
Post by Kella on Sept 7, 2009 11:57:59 GMT -5
ooc// Alrighty! So I think we decided I'd post, and then Dire, and then Squee, and then Me, and then Dire, and then Squee, and then so on and forth... //
"I don't know what they did to us, November. All that I do know is that I don't really care, either," Delta said, tension shill shivering in his voice.
November let the words sink in. So he didn't know... this assumption was soon followed by a sense of icy disappointment. November was now risking her life, and her prospect of gain and advantage had just decreased greatly. She guessed this was the sort of time one of the whitecoats would have used the explicatives they were so fond of. They usually did when things didn't go their way. According to this pattern, 'Roddar' would have probably been the word of choice. Roddar. For some reason, the mental uttering of the 'forbidden' word did little to ease her disappointment.
But wait, this was all based on an assumption. Just an assumption. Maybe Delta was lying, or he knew more than he thought. Perhaps he held a bit of information that seemed insignificant to him, but was the sort of thing November could stretch out and duplicate, and learn all sorts of things. Yes, these possibilities were far more likely... So it wasn't all for naught. That was good. This could still work to her advantage. She could still get a few answers to the questions that burned like hot coals in her mind.
"I wouldn't rush into thinking that we will accept you with open arms if I were you, November. How do we know that you won't try to kill us in our sleep?" Delta continued. It was a simple question, with an equally simple answer.
"You don't."
"How did you find us." He said. The sentence's words identified it as a question, but the tone told otherwise. It was full of malice and suspicion... more like a threat. And yet, November gave answer to it anyway, choosing her words carefully.
"I was on the squad they sent to find you six. The Deliverance was still set to transmit all new destinations to the main database. Through your doing, or otherwise, the coordinates ended up double-encrypted, and only part of them made it through. The group landed on the planet where Foxtrot suspected Victor and or Tango might have landed; our intel was scarce. I had known for a while that Green Meadows had done something to us. And I knew that you six had escaped, and I kn-- And I thought that you knew something I didn't. And I wanted to know what that something was. So I waited until the trail toward Tango had gone cold, and then I escaped. I managed to get a hold of your coordinates; the tech team had decoded the encryption, but they couldn't defragment the coordinates. I could. And so I followed you here. I asked around, and the Bouncers told me where to find you." So far, November's voice had remained perfectly even, stoic. Devoid of emotion. It was chilling to hear that voice, the voice of a droid, coming from lips and throat of flesh. It might have been a warm voice, a soft voice, if that tone were not so frigid cold. And yet, as she continued, a not-so-slight intonation crept into it. She tilted her head ever so slightly to the side to refresh her vision.
"They also warned me. Told me to stay away. And they, they said I didn't listen. Do you know what it is when they say 'calm'? I didn't understand..."
November trailed off, her gaze drifted to the ground, and for a moment, a distant look clouded her eyes...
And then she snapped her head, and forced her eyes back into focus. This was a life-or-death situation. She needed to focus on it.
"No, those are questions for another time. Right now you hold my death, loaded, and at a 37 degree angle." November eyed Delta's rifle. "But if I had wanted to kill you, I would have come at night, blanketed the radius with a nerve gas by setting up a canister upwind, and either killed your or incapacitated you for capture. If my intent had been to kill, you would be dead." There was no smugness in her tone, simply crisp matter-of-fact. However, that couldn't hide the slight smile that tugged at her mouth, moving of its own accord. Satisfaction. Pleasure at the power that she could kill them so easily. But now she had to make herself an asset; that provided the best chance of survival.
"I'm worth more to you alive than dead. I know what Foxtrot knows. Or, at least, what she did know. I know which of the twenty-six are after you, and I know what Green Meadows said about you after you had escaped. And I have the navigational charts for this sector memorized, several planets may provide refuge, and I know what encryption patterns Green Meadow's won't be looking for."
November's eyes slipped from Delta, to Echo, and then back to Delta again.
"You know what I'm capable of." It was both a bait, and a threat. Her capabilities could prove to be both an asset, and a danger. Perhaps it wasn't the smartest thing to say. But she couldn't resist the subtle taunt, the curl of pleasure, of satisfaction in her chest that came about, just speaking the words that implied she had power. Satisfaction. She was addicted to it, and there was a 63.9% chance it would be her undoing. But at that particular moment, she didn't care. She simply tried to make herself look as non-threatening as possible, and hoped Delta would believe her...
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Dire Wolf
So who's ready to help me sock ol Adolf on the jaw?!
2,894 posts
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Have dakka will travel
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last online May 6, 2020 18:55:51 GMT -5
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Sept 7, 2009 15:31:00 GMT -5
Post by Dire Wolf on Sept 7, 2009 15:31:00 GMT -5
((ooc: sounds good. >.< sorry for the shottyness, my brain is not cooperating))
Delta allowed the woman to plead her case, his ears open and mind thinking on every syllable that left her mouth. The voice... it was so cold. Emotionless. Not unlike most of the twenty who now hunted them. After a brief moment of thought, the man slowly lowered his rifle. Her words made sense to him; it made absoloutly no sense for the woman to try and kill them any other way than what she planned.
The logical part of his mind warned him. It warned him that it would take an extra half of a second to raise his rifle, line up the barrel and the woman via reflex, and fire off a three round burst. It warned him that if she was moving, it would take an additional second ontop of that, depending on her direction. However, it also told him that what she said made sense. Why would she try and kill them any other way than nerve gas upwind if she truly tried to kill them? He shook his head ever so slighlty. She wouldn't.
The emotional part of his mind, however, warned him that she could have been scouting the area and simply got caught. It warned him that she was just trying to lower his guard. That she wanted to kill Echo, and even went so far as to lightly threaten the woman. Anger. It slowly welled up within the boy's heart as he looked at the ever so slight smile that tugged at the corner's of November's ears. It coiled around his mind, clouding his judgement. It wanted him to raise and fire a burst into her heart. The same heart that powered the woman that threatened their saftey numerous times in her speech.
Time: he needed it. He needed time for this anger to cool. Time for the emotions that clouded his mind and yelled at him to do nothing more than put three 8 millimeter holes into the woman's body. He drew a series of deep breaths, the hot fury of his anger decreasing slightly with each exhale. After a minute he looked at the woman, "I do know what you're capable of. And you know what we're capable of. Don't think for a second that I trust you, November."
With that, the boy relaxed his stance, allowing his shoulders to drop and arm muscles to relax. He simply stood there, looking at the woman, waiting.
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Squee
The Keeper
2,286 posts
95 likes
I am Deception, and I defy your holiest moralities.
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last online Oct 24, 2016 0:33:56 GMT -5
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Sept 16, 2009 23:33:28 GMT -5
Post by Squee on Sept 16, 2009 23:33:28 GMT -5
A rattling hiss exhausted what oxygen Echo had in her lungs. Stone edged gray peered unforgiving across at November, where the blond smiled something plainly smug, something that it was clear as day that the woman was taking pleasure in her own words. Echo’s mood had been shifting around since the very beginning of this conversation with November. The trail of feelings within her chest and mind bumped along the list: from fearful to annoyance and aggravation to rationalizing. Now, however, another irrational, strong and overtaking emotion flooded Echo’s senses as a fireball exploded within the cage of her ribs.
They did not know November had not been sent as a scout for Foxtrot. She and Delta could play right into the hands of people who would hurt them to get their way. Echo knew that by escaping Green Meadows and becoming fugitives, they would have been hunted. There was something about all of the twenty-six that Green Meadows liked very much. Echo recalled slicing through the complicated security systems during their moment of frantic flight not long ago. With so much security, unless one was let out willingly, no one was supposed to get out… or get in. There was such a high importance of the six escapees that they had “WANTED” stamped across their foreheads and their brothers and sisters were pushed forth to seek them out. So far, if November’s story sang true, Echo was truly convinced that one (November) if not all (Foxtrot and her gang) now knew the exact location of her and Delta. That scared her to pieces.
Trying to distinguish truth from the words belonging to a droid was difficult. Echo had blinked, almost in a bored fashion, as November had spoken her piece about running away from Foxtrot’s group. It wasn’t convincing to the auburn-haired woman. Echo wasn’t sure if anything November could tell them would make her sway from the belief that November was here to hurt them. Echo had no earthly proof that November was, indeed, a rogue just as she. Echo was firmly rooted in her place that this was a trick. This was a distraction. This was the plan of distraction for such highly unpredictable, destabilized people such as Delta and herself. At the peak of trusting November, Foxtrot and the others would swoop in like hawks. In a few moments, they would be submitted, conquered over, chained up, and shipped away in nice packages back to Green Meadows facility. Such an outcome did not appease Echo.
For some reason, she didn’t have a keen interest in really returning. Echo was aware she was experiencing these emotions, and experiencing at levels she believed were quite severe, but she wasn’t so sure she wanted them taken away from her. If Delta was correct in the theory they were broken, Green Meadows would fix them. It would be like when they were out on Dxun during their training exercise. Whenever Echo thought back to that time, she couldn’t help but feel a void; there was a hole in her brain. She was missing something from that time. The woman was entirely sure if being broken was filling that hole, but she figured she would rather remain damaged for a little while. There were just some things, like these feelings or emotions, that Echo did not wish to lose. Another such thing would be Delta, and the way she thought she felt around him. She liked it. She didn’t know why or how or what made her believe that way, and therefore she usually scolds herself on such behavior, but there was absolutely nothing that could make her say she disliked being around him.
There was something else, too. There was the unexplained, seemingly rapid change of how the face that Delta had possessed on Dxun to the face that he wore now. Aging. Yet, there wasn’t much evidence that remained in Echo’s brain that could draw a logical conclusion. It must have been years since Dxun, since she herself had changed. Not necessary in body, but in the way the scars that she thought were fresh were healed over, leaving but a little discolored trail where she had been inflicted upon. Delta could probably pick up on some other things about her that were different since their clearest memory of Dxun. Something, once again, was missing. It had to be her memory. Green Meadows might be behind the missing links. Nothing connected. Nothing happened in a smooth chronological order.
If they (Echo and Delta) returned Green Meadows, and the White Coats fixed them, was there a possibility Echo wouldn’t recall Ruusan? She frowned at this. Again, the experiences made here was something Echo was not quick to be rid of.
Because of these, Echo felt extremely cautious toward November, though she seethed because the woman had essentially threatened their lives. A deep growl belonging to some caged animal vibrated in her throat. Echo was not threatened. Echo threatened others. She didn’t like being on the receiving side of the threat, not one bit. When Delta returned November’s words, Echo found it a weak response. It made her flash her stone-sharp eyes on Delta for the briefest moments. Those gray eyes widened when he lowered his rifle, and her hair panned out as she jerked her head back around to watch November. No! That was what she wanted! If he showed her anything but the muzzle of his rifle, she would know she’s getting to him!
“Delta!” she hissed slightly, twisting her head to a certain degree to keep November in her peripherals. “What’re you doing?” she kept her voice low. “You can’t be seriously considering her, can you? There’s too much unknown! Unknown is dangerous. She’s not one of the six, she doesn’t belong here, and she could be scheming with Foxtrot to lure us into false security.” Now, Echo had not evidence of the last one, the second was merely an opinion, and the first reason was a proven fact. Her heart pounded hard in her chest. She wanted to be scared. She wanted to be angry. “Will you think about it? In the mean time, she isn’t getting to keep those weapons of hers…”
Echo wanted November’s weapons in her own hands. To give the entire truth, Echo wanted to break November into little pieces, just to keep Delta and her safe. She wanted to break the blond woman’s arms so she couldn’t take back her weapons. Her legs so she couldn’t run away for help. Better would be if she were dead. That would solve everything, except maybe Foxtrot hunting them. That could not be helped. They were going to be hunted no matter what they did or where they went. Echo had a sensation in her gut that confrontation was unavoidable, but she also felt ridding themselves of November would prolong that confrontation.
“I want your weapons and any communication devices.” The declaration from Echo was clear. Turning from Delta, Echo put one bare foot forward into the grass. She walked with a purpose over to November, returning the nature green gaze with a steel glare. She didn’t speak why. Only that she wanted them. The closer Echo came, the more danger November would be put into. Though a few inches shorter than her sister, Echo held herself tall and acted like the powerful woman she knew she was. Perhaps half of it was because Delta still held his precious rifle just yards behind her.
Should November pick a fuss, Echo didn’t have much doubt that she could submit the woman as long as she didn’t use her poisons immediately. If November played fair and cooperated, Echo was prepared to search her body for anything hidden. The honor system was a waste in this situation, and thus would not be used by Echo. Hopefully this could go the easy way.
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Kella
Fire and Blood
4,089 posts
5 likes
Fire cannot kill a dragon.
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last online Oct 30, 2014 9:41:46 GMT -5
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Sept 25, 2009 17:30:18 GMT -5
Post by Kella on Sept 25, 2009 17:30:18 GMT -5
Delta was quiet for several long moments. Very long moments to November, because that calm could easily have been the calm before the storm. He looked as if he was going to explode. November's head tilted ever so slightly to the side. Perhaps Green Meadows had affected some more than others... and yet, a few weeks ago, they'd all been the same. Cold, methodical. So what in the galaxy had happened? This question burned November's palm like a blazing ember, but she refused to drop it. She had to know. There was a desperation in that curiosity, and as much as she despised it, she couldn't deny it. Things hadn't used to bother her like this, they hadn't used to devour her inside...
But obviously, the way things were no longer held any value in judging current events.
"I do know what you're capable of. And you know what we're capable of. Don't think for a second that I trust you, November." Delta finally said.
"Good," November replied after a thoughtful moment, "I'd seriously doubt your judgment if you did." She nodded her approval, and even as another reply fell together behind her tongue, her ears caught Echo's low hiss.
“What’re you doing? You can’t be seriously considering her, can you?" Echo's voice was low, and November saw the way in which the other woman kept her within sight. "There’s too much unknown! Unknown is dangerous. She’s not one of the six, she doesn’t belong here, and she could be scheming with Foxtrot to lure us into false security.” November reasoned that dealing with these suspicions would be possible, but time-consuming. Why was Echo being so irrational? Couldn't she weigh the probabilities like November had, and see that if November were working for Foxtrot, this line of action would be extremely foolish? Perhaps the woman knew more than she was letting on, perhaps this was a test, just as the fact that while Echo was speaking quietly, it was still just loud enough for November's accentuated ears to hear. Another possibility, another probability... “Will you think about it? In the mean time, she isn’t getting to keep those weapons of hers…” How inconvenient. Reasonable, but inconvenient.
November watched with the wary gaze of a Hawk as Echo turned toward her. The woman's eyes were gray, harsh and cold as durasteel. Unflinching, November met her gaze.
“I want your weapons and any communication devices.”
November nodded her consent. She Echo's steps as the quarry moved toward her, judging distance, stride, time an--
Why was she doing that? Why was she counting things out? She hadn't even thought about she'd just... just done it. It was the same thing she did when an opponent was attacking; trajectory, speed... a whole work-up. Why did she even know to do that? It was... strange. There were things she knew that she hadn't remembered learning. It was similar to when she'd realized there were holes in her memory, gaps. She had suddenly just... just known. The same was happening to her again, and had happened to her at the strangest of times... perhaps when the brain learns, she reasoned, it stores things in a different place than memories. So she had learned these things in a lost memory... what lost memory? When? November's eyes glazed over as she began to sink into these thoughts, until the questions threw their tendrils across her mind, dragging her into the mire of uncertainty...
November suddenly started, snapping her head and blinking rapidly. She needed to stop zoning out like that; what was wrong with her? She used to be able to focus perfectly! Most likely, she was simply fatigued. That brought her little consolation. Bringing herself back to the present, November once more met Echo's gaze, nodding silently to the woman's expectant expression.
Steady hands slowly unstrapped the dart-gun from her back, and November handed it gently to Echo.
"Please be careful with that." She could not keep the emotion from her voice, the subtle concern. "If it were to break or become muddled, I would be very melancholy." Melancholy, that was another sort of emotion. The word and the accompanying shadow of foreboding had slipped from her lips before November could stop it. She still loathed admitting to emotions. Emotions controlled her, instead of her controlling them. She hated that.
Despite this slip-up, November was quick to continue. She hauled the heavy pack off her shoulder, and slowly undid the flap, showing it wasn't rigged. She then proceeded to remove her belt, row of canisters catching the glinting sun. Next came the bedroll slung over her other shoulder, followed by a strange rectangular box. A canvas bag was cut to the exact measurements of the device inside. Setting it at her feet, she gave Echo a pointed warning.
"That's my chemistry kit. Don't open any of the vials. Nearly all of those compounds have irritant fumes, and many of them are fatal. I'd ask you to just leave it alone, but I doubt you will..." There was resignation in her voice as November let the parcel settle to the ground. Last to emerge was the dagger in her boot; the blade glinted as it crested the top of the pile. November took a large step backwards, leaving the deposit of supplies and equipment behind. She spread her arms wide, palms forward, and put on an expression she'd come to know as expectation.
"I expect you'll want to search my person as well?"
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Dire Wolf
So who's ready to help me sock ol Adolf on the jaw?!
2,894 posts
49 likes
Have dakka will travel
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last online May 6, 2020 18:55:51 GMT -5
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Sept 27, 2009 14:29:38 GMT -5
Post by Dire Wolf on Sept 27, 2009 14:29:38 GMT -5
Throughout this entire process Delta couldn't help but think one thing: why? Why did this have to be happening to him and Echo, wouldn't it just be so much simpler if it just stayed the two of them? Couldn't November just go and find another group to fly with? One that had the ability to trust her half as far as it could throw her. Well, Delta could probably throw the woman fairly far, for she was light and he was one of the stronger of the twenty six.
Allowing people to come with he and Echo was very much a double edged sword. The chances of them being found increased exponentially with every single person that they allowed into their group. But then... the chances of them being able to deal with any trouble they come across increased exponentially by the person. It would be far simpler if he just raised his rifle and walked the hypersonic projectiles up her form, turning her into a bleeding cheese grater.
A small smirk etched its way across his face at the amount of energy it would take to kill the woman, in fact it would be next to null. He honestly wouldn't even be very wrong in doing so, as long as he made it as quick and painless as possible. You don't threaten family. Echo was family. No, not family. She wasn't a sister to him... but the nature of his feelings towards her denoted something... else.
Then Echo's hiss ripped into his ears. The almost serpentine hissing made the gaping maw of his assault rifle point back at November's slim form menacingly. This maw begged him to allow it to spew out its metallic teeth, wanting nothing more than to rip into the soft flesh that stood before him. Even as Echo's words of unknown dangers floated into his ear he considered putting a bullet into November's brainpan, simply to rid them of the burden. For that is what she'd be: a liability.
The large man seriously doubted that he could ever fully trust this droid-like woman, certainly never on the level that he trusted Echo, and therefore she'd probably spend most of her time away from anything useful on the Deliverance. Therefore, keeping her from doing anything useful on his vessel for fear of her doing something... unsavory. His finger moved from its resting position above the trigger to actually pressing against the trigger ever so slightly as Echo moved closer to November, increasing the odds of her being struck with the viper's venom exponentially with every last step.
Delta peered at the display of the battle sight that was attached to the rifle that was held in his semi-tight grasp. It was a thing of terrifying beauty. Compeletely invisible to all that tried to gaze at it from any other direction than behind it, despite the fact that it was comprised of a hollowed out plastoid square and a dim light show. Azure spheres shot back to November as her arm moved to her back, handing her posion launcher to Echo. He a quiet curse left his lips, now was NOT the time to be fawning over the tech on his gun. It was not a toy, nor was it a plaything. The rifle was a creation of terrifying beauty, like Echo, and was designed to bring one thing to living beings: death.
The tall man noticed that Echo was paritally blocking his view of November, and he didn't particularly like the chance, no matter how small it was, of hitting the fiery haired woman. While the hardened bullet would most certainly go through Echo and hit November, it was by no stretch of the imagination something that he wanted. So, he moved around to the right in a wide semi-circle so that his view of November was unobstructed. If the blonde decided to try and prick the auburn headed woman with one of her poisons Delta would have three bullets in her brain-pan faster than she could say, "ur ded." After that he'd probably take his knife and drag the blade across her throat, splitting open the flesh of the dead or dieing woman, allowing the blood to rise up out of her neck. Just to be sure.
So long as she co-operated, and her hands didn't grasp any unseen objects during the search, her flesh would remain unpierced by steel. If it didn't, however, she would be riddled with more holes than a sheet of cookie dough. Well, a sheet of cookie dough after a few evergreen tree, angel, hearts, cupid, bat, snowman, snowflake, and gingerbread man shaped cookie cutters are applied that is.
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Squee
The Keeper
2,286 posts
95 likes
I am Deception, and I defy your holiest moralities.
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last online Oct 24, 2016 0:33:56 GMT -5
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Oct 5, 2009 21:56:20 GMT -5
Post by Squee on Oct 5, 2009 21:56:20 GMT -5
The woman’s gaze was crisp and clear as an emerald to Echo’s dull, but chilly, durasteel. By only the eyes to go by, Echo was prepared to face any rejection to the given standards. If any refusal could not be resolved, either Delta would shoot her immediately or Echo would let him know to shoot her. If November really wanted to be around them, she was going to have to listen to them. Every word that dripped from either Echo’s or Delta’s mouth would be law. It would be like such for a long while, and that was if Echo and Delta accepted her as a third body in their current home, Deliverence.
It seemed November was willing to cooperate and without so much as a protest. Echo felt a sort of relief stir within her, relaxing any prepared plans of strife. She had wanted to smile but she refused the indulgence. Now was not the proper time. Outwardly, there were no signs of these relaxations. While Echo was no longer preparing a barbed response or even a chase, there was still no trust. Her gaze was enough to explain that. The way her eyes flicked at every movement November made as she disarmed herself before Echo was testimony to that distrust.
Echo took the dart gun from November and strapped it to herself with a quick glance over. If the woman didn’t want it damaged, she would wear it. Next was the pack, which Echo became acutely wary of. Even as November undid the flap and displayed that there were no obvious signs of rigged explosives, Echo made a close inspection. With the pack sitting on the ground, Echo, without any thought or consent about violating any privacy, reached her hand into the bag. November could simply be grateful that it was a woman going through her bag rather than Delta. Part of the brain was still conscious of November’s presence standing before her as she pulled out items from the bag. They were of daily items, expected things, and of course, some more for womanly use. Carefully and neatly, Echo replaced everything back into an organized place when she was satisfied the pack was empty of threats.
Echo accepted the next article: the belt of canisters. Echo rather gave a cursory glance over it, not recognizing anything dangerous besides knowing what filled the canisters. As the bedroll was handed over, Echo undid the ties and flipped it open. She really wasn’t giving much a margin to slip through. The bedroll was clean and as Echo rolled it back up, November was telling her to be careful of her chemistry kit. There was one comment that did not please Echo and a darted look came with that comment. She said nothing, however, for what she wanted to say would compromise her distrust in November.
The last item was place on top of the accumulated pile, the knife pulled from the woman’s boot. Echo nodded once as November took a step back from the pile. Echo finished tying up the bedroll and placed it before the pack and then stepped forward November. The fiery-haired woman bladed her hand by pressing her fingers together and squishing her thumb against her palm. In smooth, running movement, Echo swept her hand across November’s body; her arms, sides, back and legs. Her searching with the bladed hand allowed her to sweep over beneath the woman’s breasts and down the inside of her thigh without violating obvious rights.
This was how it was to properly search a person’s body and the person’s possessions. One respected the person’s body and objects, which Echo had done. She had gently searched November’s belongings to do her best to avoid damaging them. With the pack, she had put things back orderly, not leaving a messy pile for November to fix later. When searched November’s body, she did not cup her hand but bladed it. This gave a sense of strength while searching the body and also toned down the violation of the body. By not cupping her hands, Echo was not groping, which was seriously offensive to any person, especially the woman’s body. So while mistrustfulness lingered in the air, it was displayed that Echo would respect November.
“All right,” Echo said, stepping back. She hadn’t found anything else on November’s person. “Last thing, your boots. You pulled a dagger from one of them. I would like to search your shoes.” There were so many places a person could hide objects; the shoes, the gloves, the underpants, within folds of clothing, the hair, pockets, upper, inner thigh (men are particularly guilty of this spot) and for women, the bra. It was that last part that Echo had swept her hand over November’s upper chest.
The funny thing about this was Echo had all learned this at some point or another, and it failed her to remember where, when, why, and how. Perhaps Green Meadows had taught her a little bit of it, but some of it had come from somewhere else.
As soon as Echo’s search was thorough, she glanced at Delta. “She’s good. November, go over by him.” She turned and picked up November’s belongings, shouldered them the best comfortable way, and turned to return by Delta’s side. “So, what do you think, we let her with us for a while?” Echo was still against the idea. All it took was for Echo to hand back November her equipment and say, “Toodaloo!” and they could be rid of her. If November remained with them, Echo would be sure to hold onto the equipment. As she looked at the other woman, she couldn’t help but feel some part of her was going to regret it.
But what was it to regret? Echo had no answer. Maybe she was confused. But no… she was still disturbed and aggravated by November’s appearance and the way Delta had reacted to her just moments ago. One way or another, good and bad were going to come out of this encounter. “Either way, Delta, we need to leave soon. If November can find us, the others can too.”
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Kella
Fire and Blood
4,089 posts
5 likes
Fire cannot kill a dragon.
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last online Oct 30, 2014 9:41:46 GMT -5
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Oct 11, 2009 17:48:42 GMT -5
Post by Kella on Oct 11, 2009 17:48:42 GMT -5
November's tongue was still and silent as she simply observed. She watched the careful, meticulous way in which Echo disassembled her pack, and reassembled it once more. To see its contents exposed upon the ground hardly bothered her. Privacy was an abstract concept, and one not taught at Green Meadows. In fact, the prospect of actually having possession over something, of owning it... it was something November had not considered until her departure from Green Meadows, and a notion she still had not digested wholly. She would not have judged the search an invasion of privacy unless someone had told her, and as it was, nobody did.
Instead of dwelling on this, November's mind remarked upon Echo's pattern. The woman did not follow the cycle of malevolence or offense; she was not trying to make November's life more difficult. She treated the pack with the meticulous care one would treat their prize weapon, gently prying all the components apart, observing them carefully with the intent of putting them back together again. This was a pattern of respect, and the pattern implied, albeit indirectly, the same attitude toward November herself.
She yanked at the ties on her boots with no qualms, and handed the footwear over to Echo for inspection. As she did so, November was struck with a strange yet aggravatingly familiar sensation... it was as if some other image, some other time, had become superimposed over the current one, shadowing it, tracing it, as if she had done this before... and yet, that was impossible. How aggravating it was, this Deja Vu. November desperately tried to pry apart the feeling, close her hand around whatever the fleeting, shadowy memory was... but it was like trying to focus on a specific shape through a clouded glass. Impossible.
And yet, there was a pattern here. Every time she felt this Deja Vu, every one of these strangely familiar experiences... she must have done these things before, must have gone through these motions in the past, despite her having no conscious memory of them. It was like trying to put together a puzzle, missing half the pieces and having no idea as to the picture. Slowly, she was putting together what she had done away from Green Meadows, who she had been... And this was another clue, another value in the pattern.
These abstract thoughts were recentered on more tangible things as November accepted her now-approved boots from Echo, and tugged her feet back into them. She moved to where Echo had directed, over by Delta, before bending to yank on the laces, snapping them tight again and securing her boots with a crisp, perfect bow.
“Either way, Delta, we need to leave soon. If November can find us, the others can too," Echo said, just as November was rising again.
"She's right," November added with a curt nod, "Foxtrot sent the parameters to the supercomputer before I left. It's only a matter of time before it lands on our coordinates. We have forty-eight hours, maximum, before they know precisely where the Deliverance is, if they don't have the coordinates already. I'd need more time to calculate the speed with which they will arrive on Ruusan once acquiring the coordinates, but it can be done." Her tone was analytical and deadly serious. It was obvious she was oblivious to the fact that her opinion was most likely neither wanted nor trusted.
ooc// Semi-blah post... :/ Anyway, If it's possible, I want to swing November through the mining town one more time... Perhaps the ship is in need of a certain spare part, or they're low on supplies? There is a plot-ness I want to pursue, but if getting to the mining town is just to bothersome, I s'pose moving on is fine as well. :P November doesn't know the state of the ship or its supplies, so she can't make a suggestion now, but I might have her inquire later... hrum. //
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Dire Wolf
So who's ready to help me sock ol Adolf on the jaw?!
2,894 posts
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Have dakka will travel
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Oct 13, 2009 22:47:02 GMT -5
Post by Dire Wolf on Oct 13, 2009 22:47:02 GMT -5
((OOC: Meh, idc.... I figure we need a way for Fox to follow us anyhow. oh! While I am typing in these shiny parenthesis... erm... I'mma go back to RPing Delta as I originally intended. Loads of emotion that he tries to justify or explain with Logic. Yeah, and I'm feeling kinda blah... so sorry for how this turned out. x.x))
As Delta stood there in a loose stance, his knees bent and torso leaning into the rifle, he couldn't help but feel a maelstrom of emotions rage about his form. What did he feel? Everything. In its extreme. The man felt an overwhelming amount of happiness simply because Echo wasn't harmed as she continued the pat down. Yet, at the same time, sadness wracked his heart with grief at the thought of the possibility of Echo being pricked with one of November's needles. As a massive pang of fear struck at his heart like a lightning bolt, causing the persperation to swell up from his pores. It took him a few moments to ponder just as to why he felt this way about the auburn. A few simple months ago she was a collegue, an aid, and a tool to be used by him at his convienence. Not a single tear would be shed from his eye if she was killed in the most horrendous and drawn out way possible back then, but now... now the mere thought of her being injured made him want to fall to his knees and weep.
It made no sense.
All emotions where new to him, especially the stronger ones that involved another person. If he knew anything about human interaction and interpersonal relationships he'd say that he had no small crush on the auburn. And that the only reason why he felt so strongly about the thought of her dieing was because the chip in his head went kaputt and ceased blocking the chemical reactions in his mind that were called "emotions." His mind simply wasn't used to the chemical reactions flickering around his mind, he would say, and that eventually he would stabilize. But he did not know. He didn't even know about the R.E.L.I.C. chip that was imbedded into his mind, nor did he know that it was fried.
Blue eyes blinked quickly, realizing that his mind got sidetracked. Again. He refocused the battle sight on November, but it seemed as if the search was long over, and both the women already spoke to him, and Echo had already told November to go over by him. "Fine. Come with me," he paused for a moment before making an addendum, "you go over to the Deliverance, I'll follow." There was no need for him to trust her so fully as to walk infront of her just yet, oh no... he was no idiot. Now that November was without a claw the only possible one that she could have used was the one in Delta's hand, and that would be more than a match for Echo's hand to hand capabilities at range.
It didn't take long to get everyone packed in and the ship buttoned down tight. However, Delta soon realized that they were running short on supplies, the ship was about to be restocked with food, water, and other necessities... right before Delta and Echo stole it out from under the mechanic. The boy keyed the shipcomm unit right before taking off, "we will have to restock in the mining outpost."
((OOC2: OH! And welcome to the staffing ranks, Ash. ^_^ May your new position bring you hundreds of hours of migranes and countless years of regret happiness! ^__^ Rofljk, congrats Ash. Welcome to the team))
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Squee
The Keeper
2,286 posts
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I am Deception, and I defy your holiest moralities.
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last online Oct 24, 2016 0:33:56 GMT -5
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Oct 27, 2009 1:05:20 GMT -5
Post by Squee on Oct 27, 2009 1:05:20 GMT -5
((Beginning's not too bad, ending is CRAP. Sorry. x.x))
Something twisted Echo’s middle back when November spoke immediately after her, calling out on Echo’s correctness. As if she would be wrong! That annoyed Echo. Much of November was irritating Echo, and quite frankly, Echo admitted, frustratingly, that she had no reason, and no beginnings of a reason, behind why the blond haired woman was so aggravating. Was it the way she spoke? The way she acted? The way she looked? There had to be a reason that November was metal grating, grinding, and groaning against metal. A reason why November’s voice was a harsh cackle to Echo’s ears. There just had to be, and Echo didn’t know it.
But then, November spilled out some other information. Her voice spat them out like a credit machine, making the comments sound factual and accurate. Echo wanted to smirk while the blond haired woman wasn’t looking. There was a chance that Echo could begin to believe the words spoken by November. As soon as Echo could find some binds and some kind of wraps to secure the, considered, captive’s hands, maybe there’d be some kind of difference. There was always the probability that November would lead them straight into Foxtrot’s hands. However, captives bound tended to think off track and come up with ridiculous possibilities of how their current future might act out.
The mind was a stage in itself. The nature of humans made them novice puppet masters. Thoughts were like the strings attached to the puppet, the body itself. And the puppet ambled and galumphed, not able to tell its story properly. The strings were incontrollable and the puppet flailed, dancing wildly on the stage without a simple decision to head it. The puppet could not control himself. Which made things so much easier on Echo.
… Green Meadows had definitely done something to her. She knew that already, but the conclusion kept popping up. The last part of her historical story was sealed: Green Meadows had done something. It was the beginning and the middle that was faded and vague. There were bits and pieces, but they were boring and the facts could not be scrambled into a reasonable story. Echo was missing sections, sections so dire and so relevant that she needed them to publish her story. It was frustrating not being able to find those pieces that would make the story interesting.
"Fine. Come with me. You go over to the Deliverance, I'll follow."
Echo stood by as November was gestured to walk. The redhead’s hand readjusted on the strap to November’s bag from her lower back. She nodded at Delta, seeming satisfied with his decision, and waited a moment as he followed November. With that rifle in his hands, the other woman wouldn’t make it anywhere fast anytime soon. With a smirk, Echo trudged forward in her bare feet with the equipment firmly on her shoulder. She paused merely a moment to collect the rubbery ball she had been playing with earlier.
The other two were up the ramp before her. Echo was quick, thought, and used her small frame and manners to pardon and squeeze around Delta and November, walking quickly through the ship. Echo made way to her private room, tossing the ball onto her sleep place while carefully lowering November’s equipment onto the mat. Echo leaned over, snatching up her bag that contained small things and produced a pair of cuffs. Unfortunately, she couldn’t find material and ended up cutting a section of her bed spread for use. In a couple of minutes, Echo was hunting down Delta and November. With two fingers, she lifted the cuffs and spun them around a couple of times.
“I hope you saw this coming. But, first, I have this,” Echo produced the strip of cloth, “that I’m going to wrap around your hands.” Even behind the back, hands could be dangerous. Echo planned on covering November’s hands with the material to prevent any grasping the other assassin might try. If November was any where there were buttons, by turning around, November could quite possibly accomplish pressing those buttons. With wrapped hands, there was no grasping, no button pressing, no fingering, and basically turned a perfectly good hand into a tool of uselessness. An a useless tool was the only tool November should be allowed to use at this point in time.
Delta had already left for the cockpit, and as Echo stepped forth to wrap the blonde woman’s hands, his voice cut through the ship. Echo frowned somewhat, and then mentally shrugged. All was well and good as long as nothing unplanned exploded on Delta and Echo’s end first.
“Right, when I’m done with your hands, we can go up to the cockpit. Unless you’d rather be stuck in a blank room.”
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Kella
Fire and Blood
4,089 posts
5 likes
Fire cannot kill a dragon.
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last online Oct 30, 2014 9:41:46 GMT -5
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Oct 29, 2009 23:49:10 GMT -5
Post by Kella on Oct 29, 2009 23:49:10 GMT -5
Seen it coming, November had. That didn't make it any more satisfactory to the probabilities in her mind, however. Another variable to the equation, which had now bounded so far beyond just x and y. Her nod was curt, her expression blank, as she surrendered her hands to Echo.
Hands were ever so important appendages, possessing of 27 bones with 28 points of exact articulation. The Human hand was far more complex and dexterous than that of any other species-type. A true biological marvel. Tiny intrinsic muscles controlled the minute twitchings, while larger muscles rooted in the fore-arm drove the strength of motion. The human hand even featured sesamoid bones, embedded within the tendon to increase the moment arm, and therefore the leverage of the tendon. No machine could come close to rivaling the perfection of the hand.
November appreciated it for what it was, and nothing more. A hand was naught but a tool -- a useful one -- but still only one of many. Her mind refused to be bound by physical limitations, and as such, November accepted the bonds. She was confident that were the situation to become dire, escape would be within grasp. It was best not to make that apparent, however.
A subconscious instinct drove November to tense her muscles as the bonds wrapped around them, causing her ligaments to stretch, and her muscles to compress ever so slightly. It was this tensing, this coiling that made her hands ever so slightly wider than when they were relaxed. And that ever so slightly could make an ever so large difference when it came to bonds. November could not know she was doing this, nor could she know the way it had been burned and branded into her conscious, after month and month again of spending evenings bound and hog-tied, not fed until she could free herself.
There was no way she could know. But somehow, somewhere deep within her conscious, she did.
And so November crossed her wrists and laced her fingers, allowing Echo to press her palms together. Still, her muscles did not relax, and the tension remained even as Echo concluded her wrapping. November had been trained not to answer questions, unless the answers were prudent and necessary, and so she gave no verbal response to Echo, for her feet shuffled dutifully to follow the two to the cockpit. She experimented a moment with her bonds. The crossed nature of her wrists limited the motion of her elbows and shoulders, while she could barely twitch her fingers. November expected nothing less of a Green Meadows assassin.
At the present moment, her most valuable tool became her eyes, and her keen observation, and so she took to examining the smooth metal of the Deliverance, the patterns of the control panels, potential doors an storage places, her mind racing ahead to infer as much meaning as possible. In no position to make anything of meaningful contribution, other than submissive silence, November waited.
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Dire Wolf
So who's ready to help me sock ol Adolf on the jaw?!
2,894 posts
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Have dakka will travel
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last online May 6, 2020 18:55:51 GMT -5
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Oct 31, 2009 23:55:52 GMT -5
Post by Dire Wolf on Oct 31, 2009 23:55:52 GMT -5
Delta's soft blue eyes washed over the flashing lights and buttons on the console that lay before him. Each and every single one of those buttons had a specific purpose. Every. Single. One. His hands swept over the myriads of lit buttons, each of his five fingers deftly stroking the appropriate key that served as the start up sequence. Within moments he heard the whurr of the generator as it spun up to half power, and then the thrum of the engines as they burned on... resting in an idle.
He sighed. Was he like each of the buttons that lie on the console? Did he have a purpose? Was he meant to do extraordinary things? Or maybe just be the stepping stone in a larger construct... like one of these buttons. But then... perhaps was he simply an extra. A being that had no true purpose, save to wander the galaxy in search of one. A pang of hollow sadness entered his heart at the last thought. His eyes began to well with tears, seemingly without explanation. Why was he ready to cry this time!? Echo was no where to be seen, and she hadn't communicated any form of failure to him. His mind hadn't recalled that image of her dieing, nor did it think of her being poisoned. So what was it! Why! Why did he cry! Furthermore, what caused it? Surely not just thoughts.
The man shook his head, now was not the time or the place to think about what stimuli, internal or external, caused emotion. Now was the time to resupply at the mining station and get the hell off of the rock dubbed "Ruusan." His fingers laced themselves around the throttle and pushed forward to three-quarters power, more than enough to get them off of the ground quickly. Without hesitation the flesh of his palm met with the joystick and pulled back, angling the nose up to the clear blue skies above. The engines flared to life, blasting the craft up to the skies.
It didn't take long for the ship to make it to the port, unfortunately Delta and Echo had little money to their name. Little as in the minuscule amount of credits that were stowed into the cargo bay as a means to pay a docking fee, nothing more. It took all of a few minutes to reach the star dock, once there Delta promptly cut the throttle and allowed the craft to sink down on its landing struts. Hopefully it wouldn't take long to get the fuel and rations they needed.
(very blah, but I dunno whats going on xD)
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Squee
The Keeper
2,286 posts
95 likes
I am Deception, and I defy your holiest moralities.
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last online Oct 24, 2016 0:33:56 GMT -5
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Nov 10, 2009 2:22:41 GMT -5
Post by Squee on Nov 10, 2009 2:22:41 GMT -5
((Kella, I’m not quite sure what to do with November. I’m going to write this up. If there is anything that you absolutely disagree with, shoot me a PM please. I will do my best to come up with another way around it. Dire told me you had no plot, and these, we figured, are going to be the last couple of posts anyway. I am doing a lot of assuming in this post and it irks me, but I do not know what to do. ))
November seemed to make a decision staying closer to Echo and Delta. The stone-eyed woman didn’t mind so much, as she did make the invitation to the cockpit. Echo had merely gestured for November to walk before her. With a hand, open palmed, against November, Echo was able to point or say something to direct the way to the cockpit. By the time Echo had made sure November was seated in one of the passenger seats, Delta already had the ship lifted into the skies and pointed for the port. As for herself, Echo slid into the copilot’s seat but didn’t do much to contribute to the flying.
“Might be a wise idea to pick up a job going to wherever. We don’t have a luxurious amount of credits.” Echo gently pushed her seat into a lazy semi-circle. With a couple of movements of her deft fingers, Echo produced the map charts, gazing down and selecting a few planets to study their usefulness in hiding. She didn’t want anything obvious, instantly marking almost all known Outer Rim planets. The Outer Rim was the common place to flee and quite possibly would be checked (or rechecked in the situation Foxtrot and her team had already checked) for the refugees. They would likely search all Mid Rim planets, especially if they track down the Deliverance here, only to discover that the ship and its crew and single passenger were gone.
“Commenor? It’s a trading haven. Bunch of ships flowing in and out. We could easily be lost. Not to mention the surface of the planet is likely to be infested with merchants, traders, and people of the like. It’s closer to the Core. But, I say we keep heading closer to the Core and then make a spontaneous jump backward, toward more the Outer Rim. Have to make sure they stay steps behind us. Too close and they’ll set a netted trap in anticipation we’ll fall for it.”
---
The ship landed gently, thanks to the guidance of Delta’s kind hand. Echo gazed out the viewport, watching as people walked and strutted about on their business. This was going to be interesting, seeing as she and Delta had limited their interaction with extra persons. She wasn’t sure if it was anxiety or fear that had led them to tip-toe around multitudes of people. Echo was sure Delta hadn’t chosen Ruusan just for the bouncers. She was convinced he had also chosen Ruusan for the secluded expansions of beautiful nature. When on the run, choose not the darkest, dankest, grimiest places of the galaxy, but the beautiful, spacey areas. At least for a short time.
“I’ll see if there’s some kind of job waiting around. I don’t care if we transport gizka plushies, as long as we’re paid to ship it somewhere. November,” Echo paused upon looking at the woman while standing. “Well… Hm… I think it might be in our best interests if you remained here, no?” It would not be wise to take a cuffed woman into public. It would give the wrong impression and likely detract the wanted attention and attract the unwanted attention. “However, I don’t want you running around our ship unsupervised. So, remain seated, I’m merely going to make sure you’re strapped in place and not going anywhere too soon.”
Echo spent no more than two minutes making sure November was crash webbed into her passenger seat. She seemed to take a step back, admire her work for a whole moment, nod with a look in November’s eyes, and swerved to head toward the ramp. “We’ll be back real fast. Delta, I’ll look for some kind of job either to Commenor or on our path there.”
People. This was a ship dock, a port of export and import. Likely part of some settlement here on Ruusan. There were people. Lots of people. More people than Echo was capable, at this time, of being around. People made her nervous, amplified with the knowledge that there WERE people hunting her and her partner down. There was a lot of noise and a lot of bodies. As Echo came off the engaged ramp, she felt a sense of claustrophobia. Eyes and ears, hands and arms, legs and feet came in pairs of two. Hands gestured passively and wildly, and feet were attached to unpredictable legs. Echo felt a tensing and relaxing motion of the muscles of her body as she passed by a person or few.
There were people calling out they needed rides, but Echo didn’t think transporting people would be appropriate. Not with November on board. Not only was November a dangerous aspect that could potentially harm these persons, who have likely not done a wrong thing, but November would have to be locked up. And a nosy passenger could find a locked November, which make uncomfortable questions and unnecessary complications of both then present and future times.
Goods to the Outer Rim. Goods to Coruscant. Goods to elsewhere in the Mid Rim. No, no, and no. A couple of time she paused to share a word or two with someone who mentioned transport of cargo to the Inner Rim or the Colonies.
“’Scuse me, ma’am. Seen you wander around a while. Perhaps you could do me a service? You’ll receive a fair decent pay, and my men will load my cargo onto your ship for you. And when you meet up with my friend in Commenor, he will unload for you as well. Some pay now, the other part my friend will place into your palm. No skirting around. It’s handed right to you. All you need is a ship.” The man was dressed simple with a shirt, trousers, and capable footwear. He kept his hands out of his pockets and held firm gaze with her. He even displayed a very light smile.
Echo shuffled a little closer to the man. “All right, you’ve got my attention.” In such a shorter amount of time than Echo believed possible most of any of her ruffled concerns were smoothed out in the uncomplicated plan the man proposed. Within minutes, Echo thought it was fair and relayed information to Delta through her datapad. Echo gave the information needed to find her shuttle and with a quick nod and a friendly shake of the hands, Echo turned on her heel and marched back to the shuttle.
---
“That one.”
The man’s deep brown eyes followed after the fire-headed woman. It was simply something of the recognizable and untreatable sway of a woman’s hips that always made the final decision for him. The woman certainly didn’t have the breast, but she had a shapely backside that he enjoyed staring at until it was lost. With an unsatisfied sigh, the man shoved his hands in his pockets and glanced at his partner standing almost directly behind him.
His partner raised an eyebrow. “That one? Did you see her? She’s a woman you’d have to ground and pound.”
“All the more fun,” smirked the brown-eyed man as he twisted his partner’s words into an innuendo. “No, we get one of the beasts and she shouldn’t prove to be an unreasonable problem.”
“You sure you want to play with a red-head?”
“Oh yes,” he grinned, tongue wetting his lips, "Yes, definitely."
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Kella
Fire and Blood
4,089 posts
5 likes
Fire cannot kill a dragon.
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last online Oct 30, 2014 9:41:46 GMT -5
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Nov 30, 2009 0:26:51 GMT -5
Post by Kella on Nov 30, 2009 0:26:51 GMT -5
ooc// The following is presented As-Is, no returns, no refunds. Refer complaints and alterations to the proper department, no receipts required. I have fulfilled my plotness. I am happy now. X) I expect, from thence forward, things shall move a good deal more quickly... at least on my end... X) //
The ship was silent. Delta and Echo had gone. In that soft landing, November had seen the ville unfold below, people bustling about their daily lives... she had never seen so many, all assembled peaceably. As November sat in that chair, she caught herself pondering what everyone else in the Galaxy did from day-to-day. For her whole live, Green Meadows had dictated what she thought about, and when she did, but now... now her mind was free. It was a strange concept, and one she was not entirely useful. But now, she was going to imagine what it would be like to be 'ordinary'. Just because she could. This sudden spark of rebellion surprised her, but... she was rather satisfied by it. It signified a lack of outside authority upon her mind.
Except... she couldn't imagine what the commoners did every day. She knew so little, so very little outside Green Meadows... this brought her eyes down to the cold floor, away from the brilliant sky that peered at her from theviewports, trying to bring her gaze back upward.
Her nose twitched. She felt upon it a strange sensation, an uncomfortable tingling... something in her knew that rubbing her nose would make the tingling go away... November could have no idea that she was experiencing something as mundane as an itch. To her, it was something new. And as she strained at her bonds a moment, testing them, it began to aggravate her. The band across her shoulders was tight, as was the one that stretched across her hips, both binding her to the chair. Her ankles were fastened to its base, her hands tied behind. And still, that bothersome twitch of her nose!
November pulled at her bonds again, telling herself she was merely stretching. However, that growing aggravation at the tip of her nose opened the door for another emotion to creep in, twirling around her wrists and angles, around her torso and chest. Claustrophobia. She tested her bonds again, tensing her muscles, and this time, she could make no excuse. Then again. Then again. And each time, the inexplicable claustrophobia built. It grew. It snuck from the shadows around her and began to get closer, closer, stifling her... the still air, the small space, the silence...
November was frantic now. She yanked and tugged at the bonds, but still they held. Her fingers strained at the strips, her ankles flicked viciously away from the root of the chair, but still, she was bound fast. The only part of her that remained unbound was her voice, and the wretched moans that uttered with every hyperventillating breath.
All her muscles convulsed, again, and again; November's chest began to heave with the effort, a sob racked forth-- no, no, no! She didn't want to be caught, she needed to move! Finally, November's claustrophobia crescendo-ed, and her spirit broke, and she was left hanging limp in the chair, a strange hotness that felt like blood slipping down her cheeks. She struggled no more, and despair crept upon her... she was a failure... she couldn't stay calm, she couldn't wriggle free...
In her defeat, November's muscles had slackened. She suddenly realized that the strips were loose around her hands. The combination of her initial tensing, and her frantic yanking had loosened them just enough...
November twisted her fingers around, in a gesture uncomfortably painful, but bearable... A loop of fabric fell to the ground.
Quiet satisfaction crept into November's mind, and the tears dried quickly on her cheeks as she made swift work of the bonds on her wrists. They too fell silently to the floor, and November twisted her hands around. She enjoyed the sensation of movement in each of those twenty-eight points of articulation... it was the strangest thing. But that victory only lasted a simple moment, and then the assassin was thrashing again. There was an engine inside her chest, whirring and pounding so very fast, driving her fear up again! She cried out, struggled, and finally her arms rotated forward, shoulder muscles groaning at the sudden movement. Fingers made clumsy by panic stumbled across the remaining straps, until finally they yeilded to her frantic pleas. November spilled out onto the floor, and a sharp pain rang through her collarbone as her shoulder collided with the metal.
Slowly, her shallow breathing deepened. The cold assassin curled itself back around the frightened creature. She raised a hand to brush the thick sweat from her brow, and gradually sat up. Red lines scored her hands where she'd struggled with her bonds, and there were friction burns on her wrists, but she was otherwise fine.
What a fool she was! As if Delta and Echo would ever trust her now... No doubt they'd kill her as soon as they arrived. Therefore, November concluded begrudgingly, she'd best be gone before they arrived.
Suddenly, she was surprised to find a part of her was willing to simply remain and wait for her judgment, to accept the death as a better alternative to reality... but that would remain only a thought, for survival was engraved far too deeply into the flesh of her soul.
Doors designed to lock from the inside bowed swiftly to her fingers. November winced as the sunlight suddenly hit her, so much brighter reflected by the market square than it had been in the viewport. The warm light sunk into her skin, and part of it bounded back, giving her skin a lustrous shine, tan with just a touch of caramel. November had never noticed that before. She looked at her hand, marveling at the many small creases, the plates of her skin, the way the sun struck the curve of her nails. Those details should have been insignificant... but... awe, maybe --
As quickly as it had come, the emotion was gone. November was foolish to be occupied with such a trivial thing as sunlight. There were far more important details to be gathered. For example, the way the paved landing pad was open to the sun, suited well for quick trades, and far cheaper than the enclosed hangar bays. Her eyes skimmed the pavement as it blended into booths and carts, merchants selling their wares to travelers and natives alike. People went to and fro about their business, like the many circuits of a computer, though there was an aura oflanguidity to it all, in stark contrast to Green Meadow's ruthless efficiency...
November was considering this as she jumped, feet on the rough pavement without bothering to lower the ramp. She raised a hand to shield her eyes as the deep green irises sparked, enhancements working seamlessly beneath. She skimmed for any sign of Delta and Echo, aware of a few insignificant people milling about nearby --
"Bali! What are you doing! We're going to be late!"
The voice was as loud as it was demanding, and November spun suddenly to see stooped, elderly woman. Her wrinkled skin sagged off the bone, and her eyes were beady and scrunched. Yet, there was a surprising strength in her wizened fingers as the woman caught November by the elbow, and proceeded to drag her along. November was unsettled -- so very, very rarely did she see old humans, that it was disturbing, to say the least.
November tried to pull away, but the woman's grip was like iron.
"I'm not--"
"Bali! Do not talk back to your grandmother!" She squinted oddly at November, "What in the world are you wearing?! Pah! Young people these days! Always with the styles..."
"He--"
"Your mother will hear of this! Now come along, we're going to be even more late! You ungrateful little... if you only knew the strings I pulled for you! Come along!"
November's training had covered armed assassins, force shields and poisonous animals, not... grandmas. She was entirely and thoroughly out of her element, with absolutely positively no idea what in the world to do. And so she let herself be drug along, all the while looking desperately around for any way out.
The crowds of the market square swallowed them up, and November's armored garb didn't earn nearly as many odd looks as she could have expected. She attempted to keep track of all the people, catalogue them, follow them... but there were so many! November had never been in a crowd like this, and it was more than a little overwhelming...
Then, suddenly, November saw something that made her stop cold. The woman standing across from her wore a linen dress of dusty blue, and her soft blonde hair lay loose across her shoulders. But she had the same evergreen eyes. The same straight nose. The same steady curve to her chin, the same pink shade to her lips. November's eyebrows rose as her eyes came open, and her lips parted. And for once, this expression of surprise was natural, and identical to the other woman's.
"Bali?" Scratched the old one's voice. "Bali? If that's you, then who's--" She yanked down on November's arm, dragging her to eye level. "Who are you!? You expect to pull the wool over an old lady's eyes, ey? EY?" She began to shake November viciously, but the other woman put a hand on her arm and stilled her.
"Grandmother, stop." Her eyes were still on November. "She... she looks just like --"
A brunette woman, middle-aged, came up behind the younger woman. "Bali! Are you bothering your grandmother again?" She caught sight of November. " -- By the divine..."
"Mum," said Bali, "Doesn't she look just like..."
"Kera..."
"Pah, I don't see any resemblance."
"Shh! Grandma!"
Bali's mother gazed strangely at November, with a look of familiarity that made November squirm... She hated being caught in the middle of this, with no idea what was going on. She was about to speak --
"Who are you?" Bali's mother asked. "What is your name?"
A hesitant pause. "November."
"Don't be disrepsectful! She asked for your name, your whole name missy, now don't give her just half!"
"I don't have any other name. N-November, that's all I'm called..."
"Oh Kera..."
"I'm not Kera."
"Oh, I know... Kera was... she was my younger sister. You're her spitting image!"
"Except for the hair..." Bali added, "Kera's was so light... but Mum, Kera was so sick when she left--"
Suddenly, the brunette's eyes grew wide. "Mahla... You're Mahla... you have to be!"
"E-excuse me?"
"She'd be just your age..."
"I don't understand." It pained November to speak those words.
"D... don't you remember?"
"Of course she doesn't remember! She was an infant when she left! Pah!"
"But-- but didn't Kera ever tell you?"
"I don't know who Kera is."
"She... she was your mother... You... you went to Coruscant, when you were just one... didn't she ever tell you about us? About Ruusan?"
"I-- I don't have a mother."
Bali suddenly cut in. "Mum, I don't think she remembers anything."
"Where were you raised, girl?! Don't have a mother! BAH! She's just a conman, come to steal our things, eh? Answer me, schutta, where were you raised?"
"Mother!--"
"They -- They only ever said it was Green Meadows."
"What..."
"Mum, she can't be Mahla..."
"But she has to be. She... she is, I know it."
"I don't-- don't remember Ruusan... anyplace..." November couldn't keep the confusion from her face. Mother? What... what was a mother? Mothers took care of their children? She... she knew reptiles, mammals, the way they reproduced, she had assumed humans would be similarly impersonal... but here, this complete stranger was claiming her... it was too much for November to handle, and the crowd milling about was making her quickly claustrophobic.
"You some kind of amnesiac, girl?"
"I'm... I'm Henna. Are you sure you remember nothing? Would... would you like to come to our house for a drink?"
November looked at her blankly.
"Mum, I don't think she understands."
"AIE!" the old woman suddenly cried, "Now we really are late! Henna! Bali! Come along now! You can play with your new conman some other time..." She immediately towed Bali off, though Henna ignored it.
"Are... are you sure? Are you sure you know nothing?"
"I..." November was close to tears now. She wanted to remember, this woman said she should be able to remember, but she couldn't! All she had known were chrome walls and lab coats... She could hardly even comprehend the idea of a family... "I know nothing." And for once, she didn't have to think about twisting her expression into a pained one, it just... happened.
"I... I see."
The crowd was pressing closer, there was too much to process, too much to handle... She suddenly turned and began to walk briskly, pushing through the crowd.Mahla followed her a few paces, calling 'Mahla !', but the name meant nothing. Nothing to her. November could sense more than see Henna's retreat, as the calls died out. November locked the emotion out, and her face became blank as her feet pounded against the dusty streets.
|| ||
This time the ramp was down. The Deliverance towered above November, proportionally huge. She did not allow herself to entertain the connected emotional feeling of insignificance. She was perched on the edge of the ramp, her legs drawn up to her chest, wrapped by her arms, and her chin resting on her knees.
Her thought process was something like a four-function calculator trying to figure the square root of negative one. It just... didn't... compute. Mother? Family? Father? These words meant nothing to her. She knew their definitions, so that was not the problem, they just bore no... meaning. The old lady must have been her grandmother. Henna her aunt. Bali her cousin. But those names, words, relationships... they meant nothing. That would have been fine, save for the fact that... well, November wanted them to. It was something Green Meadows had taken away from her. And unlike everything else... everything else she could fight for. They were tangible, grasp-able things, attainable by determination and planning. But family that was something no amount of combat was going to bring her. And Combat had been the knee-jerk reaction for so long, that now... November didn't know if she was capable of anything else.
For a moment, her eyes focused... she could see her own stony face staring back at her, reflected in the gloss of the ramp. She blinked. It had been so strange to see that woman -- Bali. Bali her cousin, who looked so much like her... like staring in a mirror. How much different would it have been to look up at a mother? A mother who looked just like her... another infuriating mystery...
She heard the voices. Closer, now. Her auditory centers gathered this information, passed it along to her lingual center to be decoded. The noises were made into words, words into ideas, and the ideas processed. Workers. Cargo. Then this information was wired to her hippocampus, where the voices were checked against existing memories, then identified as Delta and Echo, and a host of other husky unknowns. This information shot toward the frontal lobe, to be processed logically. And that is where it hit a wall. November's subconscious recognized these things, followed the voices, processed them, but her conscious thought was so wrapped up in the unfathomable mysteries of the world that she decided she didn't care.
Delta could have held his rifle up to her head, and there was a 91.75% chance that all she wouldn't twitch a muscle. That single, impossible computation was taking up so much of her machine-like mind, that all other processes were put to the wayside. The super-computer had, in effect froze. The real question was, then, what would come first -- some outside event to kill the process, and revive the computer... Or the blue screen of death...
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Dire Wolf
So who's ready to help me sock ol Adolf on the jaw?!
2,894 posts
49 likes
Have dakka will travel
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last online May 6, 2020 18:55:51 GMT -5
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Nov 30, 2009 18:25:30 GMT -5
Post by Dire Wolf on Nov 30, 2009 18:25:30 GMT -5
While Echo was off dealing with the "jobless" situation and November was combating the most terrifying foe one could ever think to combat: a grandma, Delta was bartering with the chief mechanic. The Deliverance had enough fuel to take them a jump past Commenor, nothing more than that. While, granted, it would be of little consequence if they got paid for whatever job Echo was going to find... Delta didn't enjoy the thought of relying on anyone for the necessities. They had absolutely no room for error while running on bingo fuel and while he trusted himself and his companions to not screw up, he could not trust chance to thrust an error upon them.
Eventually, he managed to get enough fuel for a few jumps by bartering some of the non-essential specialty tools that was used for repair in the former green meadows ship. He sighed, hoping against hope that time would never require them to use it, as specialty tools tended to be rather... costly. After his deal with the mechanic was agreed upon, Delta stepped out of the star dock and into the surprisingly thick crowd in the mining town. It was quite surprising how well the large armored man fit in, or at least how little attention he drew... considering the fact that barely any other people in the town had any form of weapon, let alone armor.
Delta casually walked through the crowd, not particularly paying attention to anything but the stores. He hiked the pack that was slung over his shoulder up, not that it was heavy... but more it was in an uncomfortable position between the plates of his armor. Seeing as an actual store was considerably less receptive to bartering compared to, say, a poor mechanic in need of an expensive tool, he seriously doubted that he'd have the ability to trade anything for food. Considering the fact that they were in desperate need of rations and had no legitimate ability to procure them, Delta would use less than legal means to do so. The five finger discount, to be exact.
He had been walking about the town for a few minutes when those blue eyes saw one of the few simple looking food stores around, likely a mom and pop business. It likely had little or no security systems to stop thieves, if there was such a thing in a small, tight nit community. The only real thievery would come from children or off worlders, though most were likely rich enough to simply buy the cheap sustenance rather than risk stealing it. Unless, of course, they were in Delta's position... though few were.
The man gentley pushed the door open to see an obese man sitting with his legs propped up on the desk, reading a datapad. Delta recieved no greeting from the man, save a half mumbled "welcome" and a cursory glance up to eye level. "All too easy," he thought with a smirk as he picked up a basket that was beside the door and took a hard turn away from the man. The assassin grabbed at the produce first, taking as much of the greens and various fruits as reason decided. From there he went to the canned goods, packaged food, and even a few sweets... placing about half of the soon to be stolen items in the basket and the other half in his pack. After his little heist was done, the man stepped up to the register and placed the basket on the counter heavily.
For a few moments he recieved no response. "Hey," the Delta's deep voice called out, recieving only an irritated glance as the man put down his datapad and began to ring up his items. Now was the perfect opportunity to feign anger, and so it was feigned, "fair enough. Buy your own food," he said as he simply turned and walked out of the store in a huff. No alarms. No bells. Nothing. Satisfaction. It caused a big smile to stretch across his face during the duration of his walk back to the ship. That smile was wiped clean the very second that he walked up the ramp to see a nonexistant November.
"Oh osik," was his first thought that came from his mind, which was calculating the amount of damage she could have done in the short amount of time he was gone. It was, surprisingly, alot. Fortunately, she didn't seem to react to his presence, so he slipped past her to check a few places on the ship... nothing was damaged. With a sigh, he walked back to her and placed a hand on her shoulder, "listen, November. If Echo finds that you freed yourself from your bonds its very likely that she'll kill you on general principle. I don't trust you, but it doesn't look like you've done anything to the ship... so as long as you don't rebel again I will look past this little incident." His hand left her shoulder as he walked past her, the blonde was just too valuable to allow her death so soon.
If she did do something to the ship, however, his boot would be the one to kick her out of the airlock.
Once he got to the cockpit he ensured that the ship was done fueling, and that it had been fueled in the first place, before he began the startup sequence. Once the engines thrummed to life all that was necessary for him to lift off was Echo's arrival. Of course, after she was safely aboard and the ship was locked up tight he angled the ship up and began to burn atmo.
It wouldn't be long until they were at Commenor.
(very blah. *shrugs* all I can muster atm)
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Kella
Fire and Blood
4,089 posts
5 likes
Fire cannot kill a dragon.
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last online Oct 30, 2014 9:41:46 GMT -5
Master
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Dec 14, 2009 2:29:12 GMT -5
Post by Kella on Dec 14, 2009 2:29:12 GMT -5
November seemed dead to the world as Delta approached, and boarded the ship behind her. She knew he'd see the bonds where she'd slithered out of them, and no doubt the comm unit on the floor that November suddenly remembered having collided with during her frenzy. At best, the loss of control was embarrassing, at worst, it was downright disturbing. It signified the beginning of a pattern that even November, foreign to emotions as she was, could say with certainty that she disliked.
One thing managed to bring her out of her cyclic thought, and it was the one thing all her probabilities could never have predicted. A hand, on her shoulder. A simple hand, and the words that went with it.
"Listen, November," he said. Why wouldn't she? "If Echo finds that you freed yourself from your bonds its very likely that she'll kill you on general principle." The fate with the highest probability. She already knew this. "I don't trust you, but it doesn't look like you've done anything to the ship... so as long as you don't rebel again I will look past this little incident." 'Look past'? That meant he was... he was not holding her accountable. He was withholding the consequences.
That never happened at Green Meadows. Consequences were hailed as the most valuable teachers of all, accentuated, encouraged, sharpened. And now Delta was sparing her. From consequences she deserved.
For a moment, November thought she was caught in one of those phenomenons she had read about, the dream. Logic fled completely in the face of the subconscious. November had never dreampt. But somehow, she knew this... this was all to real. Slowly, as yet another E for error appeared on her mental calculator, November realized that a computer couldn't survive in this very gritty, very real world. She would have to become something more than a computer.
As these thoughts tied together, November suddenly realized that Delta and his hand were gone. She was alone again. And yet, something was bothering her, as if... as if she had something more to say. This emotion she had never felt before, and yet such things seemed to be breaking through the barrier with more and more frequency as of late. Finally, she found a word for it. Gratitude.
November found her way up to the cockpit then, letting her feet fall heavy and obvious. She didn't intend to sneak. Delta sat in his usual pilot's seat, performing some necessary protocol or other. November was quiet a moment, as the words didn't quite want to come together.
"Thank you." Two simple words, and yet, the two most confusing and most significant words November had spoken up to that date. She turned, as if to leave, but suddenly stopped, one hand steadying herself the cold metal wall. Delta deserved some explanation. "I was frightened. That's why I left. The somebody I used to be had a family. A grandmother, an aunt, a cousin. A mother. They still... still know me. But I don't know them. What did Green Meadows do to us?"
As if the answer was too much to process, November resumed her departure, and her footfalls rang through the ship once more.
~
November had decided that the absolutely most safe place to be when Echo returned was right back where she was supposed to be. That afforded two advantages -- first of all, it would take a few moments longer for Echo's instinctual red lights to go off, and second of all, due to the angle of the chair, Echo would see Delta first, and therefore November decreased the possibility of being nailed on sight.
Therefore, it was only logical that the passing of time found that November had returned to the cockpit and was back in the chair where she'd been restrained. The most notable difference, other than freedom, was the datapad she held efficiently just below eye level. A curiosity had overtaken her, and now that she was finally free of Green Meadows... she could use her resources to look at what she wanted. These guilty indulgences might be the end of her, but November approached that with a particularly satisfying apathy.
Rosters scrolled across the surface of the screen, lighting November's face with an odd pattern of shadows. Here was recorded every person who had ever been born on the mining colony, recorded in painstaking detail. With a computer's unwavering diligence, November made her way through the list. She would find a record that matched herself. She would find out who she had been.
Regardless of whether or not November could handle that truth, still she pursued it. However, with every moment, Echo took another step closer, and with every step, November was pushed further and further away from Ruusan.
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