Redemption

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Azra
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Re: Redemption

Post by Azra » Mon Apr 16, 2018 9:10 pm

"Heres the thing, when I reach for the fire extinguisher I usually know if it's using CO2 or a cryogenic composite. More you hide from the team the harder you are to trust." Whatever it was about the woman it put Viv on edge, felt far to predatory and confrontational. In her line of work Viv was used to walking around people who had guns loaded some even with an itch in the finger. This person though seemed like more then that however and the veteran in her didn't like it. Sighing though she brushed her bangs aside and focused back on what mission information was being given. Her knuckles tightened at the sight of him or more specifically the kind of things he liked to show and things he then did.

Children who died in war, that was something Viv knew, that she had even experienced. The eyes she saw on the monitor were ones she had seen in person on the fields. The retaliation ordered something she also knew, it was so easy. They call the shot and she squeezed the trigger, a younger mind didn't register what was being done but then a shell drops from the orbit a casing penetrates a building. And then a flash bright as the sun, hot enough to make her sweat though a mile out. Building gone and everyone in it, come back to base they tell the vengeful children. A warm meal maybe some even get a metal. Spend the next year waking up terrified and not quite sure why. After seeing Keyes Viv was silent for some time her step not quite as lively.

= = =

"I think Zoria is beautiful" Viv remarked her mood brightening at the sight of the cargo freighter before them. Her mind quick to go back to the files she'd studied and to her hands on experience she'd accumulated over her years. The differences and upgrades, patch jobs and so on all things her electric blue eyes seemed to be exploring and trying to find. Entering the ship though was where the real love for the craft seemed to be. Homey came to mind which said a lot to Viv. Almost immediately once in the blonde bolted to a room, the one furthest into the ship and up for grabs. She could hear the hum of the inner workings of Zoria more there.

Ducking into the room she was quick to toss clothes aside to slip into the navy blue flight suit she'd been holding onto all this time. Eager to abandon standardized uniform she was put in when moved place to place. The Dress as she called it a second skin almost in way it fit the body it had also just felt like one for her. Something she'd spent countless hours in, it was vital to her to slip back into her uniform. Once done she stepped out of the room and left it open. "Sorry priorities. If someone wants to bunk with me that's fine used to it." Most her life being barracks shared with a number of soldiers and pilots.

With that she took a seat in the lounge area open to conversation or whatever. Or better yet maybe they'd ask her to go work on something, she doubted it but a girl could dream. Nothing would have been better to the blonde then told to run maintenance on something.

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Re: Redemption

Post by Quirbles » Thu Apr 19, 2018 6:26 pm

The thing about ambiguity was that it pissed Jax right off when it was directed towards him. Equivocation, especially when used in a clandestine mission where people barely trusted one another, was deadly. The comparison of their "Plan B" to a fire extinguisher didn't exactly help quell his suspicions, either. Was that what these people were to the Hub? Assets, contingency plans? The robot scoffed and shook his head, a small smirk of disbelief barely visible on his face.

Expertise. Right. Nuclear physicists don't usually get cuffs around their limbs, let alone get a two-guard escort.

On the way out of the briefing room, Jax looked towards the shackled woman for a brief second. He didn't trust her, not for a second, and he'd make sure to watch his own back while around her. The Conscious thought back to his time on the frontier; unpredictable squad-mates were commonplace among mercenary groups, and he'd experienced his fair share of rude awakenings with knives to his throat. This was no different.

The group was led back to the hangar and, after a brief introduction by the captain of the ship they were boarding, entered the Zoria. It was a little worse for ware, yeah, but it got the job done. Jax wasn't that picky when it came to rooming in his line of work.

The robot made sure to claim a room by himself, though he wasn't exactly uptight enough to care if somebody roomed with him. He was apathetic as long as nobody touched his shit, seeing as he'd probably be sleeping in the lounge or on a couch somewhere. That, or he wouldn't sleep at all; he'd learned shorty after his activation on New Europa that a restful sleep wasn't exactly achievable for the Conscious. Every time he closed his eyes and was able to drift into unconsciousness, he always had these... dreams. Weird, abstract dreams. He didn't even know how to describe them, and the details were always fuzzy in his memory the moment he woke up, no matter how hard he concentrated on what he had just experienced. This lapse in memory perplexed him the most, given that he could recall every waking moment since New Europa. After trying for years to understand what he was dreaming, he gave up entirely. In fact, he actively tried to forget them.

A satchel filled with various keepsakes was the only real object that Jax kept on him; everything else was on his ship. Inside the bag were a pair of headphones along with a small audio-player, a metal flask he frequently kept in his jacket pocket when the satchel wasn't on him, and a small holo-device from the pyramid he woke up in. Despite the last few decades he'd spent with the device, he was never able to open it. It now mainly served as a reminder of where he came from. What he was. God knows he could use an explanation of what he really was.

The satchel and its contents were left on the bedside table, save the metal flask. Jax wasted no time in popping the top and taking a swig from it, shrugging off his jacket and draping it onto the bed before exiting the room. Because he only had a t-shirt on, his forearms were exposed; geometric shapes of a diverse variety were etched into his metal plates and skin, along with unknown symbols that had been on him as long as he could remember. He walked down to the weight room and instantly spotted a punching bag in the far corner of the room, walking over to it and setting down his flask before beginning his regimen. Workout gear was also on his personal ship, collected over the various years he'd spent in space; and though he wasn't exactly sure if exercise had any effect on his body, it was something to do besides social interaction.

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Re: Redemption

Post by illirica » Thu Apr 19, 2018 9:48 pm

Really, what are you doing here?

Surprisingly, it was not a question that anyone else had asked. Karana had expected that she would have to defend her position, but with all the other strangeness, no one had commented overmuch on her presence. She'd had all sorts of answers prepared for when others had asked. None of them, though, seemed particularly sufficient when she was the one doing the inquiring. She tapped a stylus against the small table in her room.

She had considered, briefly, that comment about some people rooming together, and decided emphatically that it was not a behavior she was willing to encourage. That was simply far too much togetherness. As such, she had quickly and pre-emptively selected the smallest room available, figuring that this tactical act would be enough to ensure her privacy. Thus far, it seemed to be working, and Karana was alone with her thoughts.

Sadly, the chamber was not quite so small that there was no room for self-doubt.

Zoria was the sort of ship that Karana's parents would have retired and sent back to the shipyards for refitting or scrapping, probably a full decade past. Despite its... rustic... exterior, it did seem like it was at least functionally capable, for the time being. She'd added look into ship systems upgrades to her list of things to consider nearly immediately. If they accidentally began a war, Zoria was not precisely the sort of ship that Karana would have chosen to begin it in.

It was the sort of ship that she had walked through, once or twice, in holographic museum. And yet... here she was, upon it, seated at a very small table in a very small room, wondering to herself if this had all been the universe's greatest mistake. It had seemed like such a good idea at the time - adventure, excitement, escape from the mundane reality into parts of the universe unknown, with nothing but her own skills to sustain her. Of course, now that she was out here, she was not entirely sure what she was going to do with those skills. Karana's skillset was extensive, but it revolved around number management and polite words and contracts and corporate speak. It didn't revolve much around, say, going in to a terrorist encampment and disarming an explosive. Just to name a particularly prurient example.

All right. She took a few slow breaths, and considered her options. It wasn't necessarily too late to back out. Her personal ship was safely stowed aboard, and they weren't so far out of range that she couldn't hop to somewhere else and back out of the entire operation. It would have been simple to pick up another job in finance, trade a few companies to ease her memory of the events, and never think about all this again. Except... she would think about it again. She knew she would - she would think of it constantly, and wonder what if?

No. The truth is... I don't want to quit. I'm not willing to give up. Maybe that was misplaced obstinacy, but Karana still felt that she wanted to be a part of whatever this was. She might not have had the expected skillset, but that didn't mean she had to be useless. It didn't mean she couldn't be of assistance - she just had to figure out how. She needed to figure out how to make herself indispensable, before others started asking her the same questions that she had been asking herself.

What is a problem that no one else can handle? That was the real question. Karana could handle the Zoria's outfitting and supplies, but the ship already had a perfectly capable supply officer. Not necessarily as well-connected as Karana, to be sure, but capable nonetheless. Karana knew, as well, that no one was going to thank her for doing someone else's job. She would just have to figure out what her job was going to be. Something that no one else was able to do.

Or something that no one else was willing to do.

There was, in fact, one glaring issue among the Nine-Tailed Fox that no one seemed willing to go near at all. For a brief moment, Karana wondered if she was actually going insane by even considering it. It was possible, but that didn't change the facts of the situation at all. "No time like the present," she informed the empty room calmly, then set the stylus back on the table and stood up, straightening her jacket and leaving the room behind.

Let's go find out how to manage the mysterious Shade.

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Re: Redemption

Post by LunaHawk » Fri Apr 20, 2018 2:53 am

Haed was not hard to find, she was the one in the mess hall. She'd not bothered to pick a room and had instead gone for what she needed the most right now, which was certainly not a place to sleep. She did not, however, have what most would call food. Instead she was standing at an empty table, an array of metal food trays sorted out on the table in front of her. She placed a hand in the middle of the table, so far convinced she was alone in the mess hall.

Starving and not really thinking clearly she reached out, coiled around the temporal lines of the food trays and closed her eyes. Flavorless, but at this point I'll take what I can get. Those in the know often wondered why Time Siphons didn't just go around eating stationary objects all day, there were a number of reasons but one of them was flavor. The fact of the matter was that taking temporal energy from a living entity was much more satisfying, even if it produced less temporal energy. It was fun.

She breathed, trying to focus her attention on the trays, the cold, unresponsive, unafraid metal trays. She tried not to think about the ship full of cattle, about the team she'd been placed in that would probably all be absolutely delightful. She had isolated herself carefully because she knew that if push came to shove, she would look out for her own survival. If she came to like any of these people, she'd run the risk of being upset when one day she woke up wearing one of them. It had happened once before. That had been when Haed had learned that friends just weren't worth having.

Friends could get hurt. By you.


Haed took a long, slow breath, tried to calm her starving mind and then...fed. The trays withered in seconds, first darkening, then collapsing into piles of filthy brown rust. She breathed out and opened her eyes, a hint of golden energy swirling in the twin pools of madness. It felt...well it felt good. Real feeding, boring feeding, but real. She traced her fingers through some of the rust and smiled slowly, it was the cold smile of a predator.

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Re: Redemption

Post by illirica » Fri Apr 20, 2018 5:14 pm

"Well, that was certainly an interesting display."

As an introduction, it was spoken with enough of an informed air so as to imply that the speaker had been there for some time. Karana Shiori kept her eyes not on the dust on the table, though, but on the woman before it. Her calm was palpable, refusing to acknowledge the tension. Forced calm, to be certain, but calm nonetheless. She walked forward rather than running away, discourteously ignoring her instinct to do the latter.

"Ms. Shade. We haven't had an opportunity for a proper meeting of the minds. Do you mind if I sit? Thank you." She pulled out the opposing chair and slid herself into it without waiting for an actual answer, projecting corporate confidence as if unable to contemplate that her request might be refused. Ordinarily, she would have extended a hand for a firm handshake, but in this specific case she refrained, offering instead a polite nod having positioned herself so that a handshake would be slightly more of a reach and the distance could easily be blamed for the lack of gesture rather than any failing of social grace.

"My name, as you no doubt already recall, is Karana Shiori. I will be acting as interpersonal support for the outset of the mission." She lay claim to the role as if it were fact, though likely many would expect the diminutive Silwin empath to take on the role of designated psychologist. Karana didn't think that Chellis was likely to approach this one, though, and she felt the role she was claiming was more negotiator than personal counselor. Chellis could help people feel good about themselves, Karana could help them work together whether they felt good about themselves or not.

"I'm curious as to what you see as your role and how you expect to fit in with the Nine-Tailed Fox, and how we can leverage your unique skillset to the greatest benefit," she continued smoothly. "I look forward to our discussion. Let's begin with your name."

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Re: Redemption

Post by LunaHawk » Sat Apr 21, 2018 12:47 am

Haed watched the woman carefully, she never knew quite what to make of people when they were being polite...or a form of it anyway. It felt disarming, intentionally so and that made her suspect people. When the woman didn't reach out to shake her hand she realized at least one thing for certain. The woman wasn't an idiot. Interpersonal support? What the heck kind of title is that? She looked at her, wisps of golden energy still trailing through her eyes like little glowing highways of light. They had all but faded by the time the other woman had finished speaking.

Haed put a hand on the back of a chair, for a moment she thought about pulling it out...but that disarming nature was there and it was something to think about. Politeness and kindness of attitude were as much weapons as blades and guns, used to lower defenses and put people in a position where they were not looking for danger. Haed would have none of it, she was a Time Siphon and the first and most important law of being a Time Siphon was surviving to see another day. The Temporal Apex Predator instead used the chair as support, something to lean against. The woman had been smart enough not to touch her...but made the fatal mistake of remaining within thirty feet. If she tried anything, Haed would be able to strike without moving.

So she doesn't know what to make of what she saw.


"My name?" She asked after a few lingering moments of tense silence. Her eyes narrowed briefly, just a flash of movement as she considered what such a question could mean. Haed wasn't important, of all the Time Siphons, she was just one among many. It wasn't as if she were a member of the Circle of Nine and had she been, she'd not be in this time forsaken galaxy and she'd certainly not be worried about the woman across from her...or the whole fething star ship.

So why ask about her name?

"Did I spell it wrong?" She asked after a moment, realizing it could be something as simple as the way she'd written it down on the various forms."Your language isn't easy to translate to, sometimes I make spelling errors that confuse people." She licked her lips like a lizard. It wasn't that her name was difficult to write down, it was that it was impossible. Her real name, anyway.

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Re: Redemption

Post by illirica » Sat Apr 21, 2018 11:32 pm

"Spelling is somewhat of a.... personal choice, I find," Karana stated, "There are so many different combinations of letters that can produce a reasonable approximation of a particular sound. In your case, though, I haven't looked at the spelling you've chosen. I thought that this meeting was more likely to be productive were I to come in to it with an entirely open mind. No doubt I will read your files later, for background, but for now I want to know what you have to say." She smiled, politely. "Beginning with your name. 'Shade' has me... puzzled by its brevity, shall we say, and I wasn't certain if that was a name proper or if that was a nickname - and regardless of the case of that inquiry, I was curious as to the manner you preferred to be addressed."

Karana was somewhat more interested in the silence that had come when she had asked for the name, though. Usually, that matter was such a simple thing, and yet Shade had reacted strangely to the simple question. Anyone who had spent much time recently in society would be used to such a question, which implied that wherever Shade had been most recently, society was not it. Karana felt there was likely some sort of cultural sensitivity in the matter of name as well, given the hesitation and the inquiry over language. She thought, perhaps, that would be an avenue best pursued slowly, and with caution.

She leaned forward in her seat with earnest, folding her arms - but certainly not her elbows - over the table and clasping her hands. "All that, of course, was what I was thinking of before your intriguing demonstration. At present time, though, it begs the inquiry - and I hope you will not find me discourteous - What are you, Ms. Shade? I've encountered a number of sentient individuals in my life, and none who could reduce a tray to dust with such... shall we say... apparent enjoyment. You've piqued my curiosity, and I feel that a full understanding of your skills may be in order so as to ascertain how they may be utilized going forward in a manner most synergistic with the rest of the team."

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Re: Redemption

Post by Poetic Ghost » Sun Apr 22, 2018 1:38 am

With the ship floating nicely in the programmed route to Vegas, Captain Chayka Rh-... Rhee stood up from her seat in the cockpit and made her way back to the commons, where most the crew had scattered and begun talking amongst themselves, getting to know each other beyond what guns they flaunted or nicknames they gave each other. Rhee always loved a new bunch on Zoria, it was a great way to meet new people, show off her muscles, maybe even find a cute girl and take her back to her quarters for some midnight wrestling. Of course, the Nine-Tailed Fox wasn't really teaming with her type. Karana seemed a bit too prudish for Rhee, the Silwin had the potential to give birth to some weird half-breed (even though her eyes were very pretty), and Chernova had told Rhee to avoid the brunette in chains, so she was out as well. Her only options were the tall blonde and the cyborg, unless the rich girl was a freak behind closed doors.

Rhee sighed as she passed the Time-girl and Karana, deep in a chat about grammar of all things. Might as well hit the weights, maybe flex a bit for anyone who might notice. Rhee passed through the crew-quarters and into the recreation room, where a multitude of weighs and machines stood ready to stretch the limits of Rhee's strength. It was one of the first things he had installed in her ship after she took it from Onyx, it was a good place to let out her anger after a long day or a job gone bad. Her favorite piece in the room was the punching bag, a massive bag that she could barely wrap her arms around. She would spend hours smashing her fists and feet against it's surface, occasionally knocking the bag off the chains, letting the sand spill across the floor, prompting her to beat her fists against the hull until her wrists locked and she screamed into the void.

It was just her luck that the Husk was going to work beating his metal fists against it. She swore under her breath and clenched her fists, she was looking forwards to beating the bag till it burst. But before Rhee walked up and called the robot a prick, she exhaled and loosened her grip.

She learned to keep that down now, to contain the anger and not let it take hold so often. She found purpose in running jobs like this, fighting bad guys and saving the day. Killing some scumbags meant nothing when the check kept the ship filling and the universe was a better place. Rhee walked up to a bench-press, passing Jax on the way, giving him a nod as she set two-hundred pounds on the bar. It was her warmup set, to get her blood pumping for a deadlift or squats. I should really work my thighs a bit more, I've been focusing on my core and chest a bit too much... Rhee shrugged and straddled the bench, clapping her hands together with chalk before she took hold of the bar and began her set.

Just as she finished her set, she looked over at the metal man and spoke. “So, an android pumping iron? Now that is irony.” She chuckled a little as she took a gulp from an energy drink.

- - -

Morgan sat his bag on the bed, and promptly dropped beside it. He hadn't slept well in the last few nights, the idea of confronting Keyes was on his mind constantly. But he had some solace now knowing that Chellis would help him save Zeke, even if the others wouldn't. Everything that had happened in the last few days, with Chernova and now the crew, he felt that he was just falling further into a hole. He wasn't sure if he could continue, he knew Keyes deserved to be saved, but he couldn't disagree with the fact that the universe would be better without him.

He sat up from the bed and reached into his duffle bag for his communicator. He pulled the device out and opened the screen, his mailbox had received mail from B, as expected. The message read;

Get the job done, and then give me my stuff back, partner.
I'll be waiting on Arizona.


"Impatient." He muttered, and threw the device onto the bedside table. Morgan left his coat and decided to walk to the weight room, he thought that some exercise might help him perk up for the next couple hours.
~~ You are but a grain of sand, in the sands of time. ~~

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Re: Redemption

Post by Quirbles » Sun Apr 22, 2018 9:22 pm

J4X's punches rang off of the large punching bag and reverberated off of the thick walls of the ship's hull. He barely made a sound while doing so, save the punctuated breaths he emitted when rebounding with a second punch in his set. During the regimen, he thought about what exactly he'd involved himself in; all of this, the Nine-Tailed Fox, stopping a bomb, killing terrorists. It was a combination of a variety of jobs he'd taken in the past, but the Hub Authority's involvement had Jax anxious. Neo Vegas was largely a no-go zone for him, partly due to the intense party culture that existed on the planet. It was a bad atmosphere, one that he'd involved himself with numerous times in the past and had come out worse than when he'd arrived each time.

He'd had many a hard parties on Neo Vegas, whether it'd been at the casinos he'd struck rich at [or left completely fuckin' broke] or at the various nightclubs scattered throughout the place. Part of the reason he'd lessened his trips there was, well— hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, and he'd scorned many a woman on that planet. Not to mention his last visit to the planet, over 504 years ago.

— — —

Neo Vegas
4 years ago
The Short Circuit


"I can barely fuckin' see in here."

The nightclub that Jax was at would fit better under the classification of a God-damn strip club. The intense strobing throughout the one-floor building barely illuminated the twirling and shaking bodies of caged dancers for a second or two before casting them in darkness, and the repeating process of this was really getting to the android. He was here to have a good time, not have a fuckin' seizure.

Two other guys from his paramilitary group had tagged along with him. Despite his overall misanthrope nature, they were really the only people he considered friends. Or people he'd willingly talk to. They sat on either side of him, leaning back in the leather booth. Same as him. Jax took a long drink from his bottle of alcohol, finally feeling the bare hint of a buzz after a lot of drinks before his current one. It was really hard for him to get drunk, which was a double edged sword for the Conscious. He'd won many a drinking contests with his talent, but he was really able to drown his sorrows in alcohol unless he truly committed to getting shitfaced. Luckily, tonight was a night for celebration: the three drank to a successful retrieval and evacuation of an HVT, and Jax was not holding back.

The Conscious quickly downed the rest of his drink, standing up and edging his way out of the booth to make his way back to the bar. He passed a variety of women on the way; lupine, human, hell even robots were all employed as various kinds of dancers at this place. Try as he might, he really couldn't interest himself in them. Sure, he'd been to these kinds of places before, each time leaving with one or two women that had been interested in "how he worked". He'd refused every time. Sure, he partook in a lot of questionable things for the thrill of it, but... never that kind of stuff. There wasn't a need for certain activities among the Conscious, despite his anatomy.

Jax had made his way to the bar and lazily motioned for one of the many bartenders at the counter. A stocky Lupine made his way over to him after a few moments.

"Give me a glass of your strongest shit, will you? Feel like I'm still sober."

The man raised a furred eyebrow at the robot's response, seeing as the Conscious had already downed 6 drinks over the course of the night without flinching much.

"You sure you won't fry a battery in there, robot? Our top shelf hits harder than—"

"Buddy, I gotta be a lot more fuckin' drunk to have a conversation about limits with someone I don't even know." Jax interrupted impatiently, not taking to kindly to the bartender trying to police him.

"Fine." The man muttered in response. It seemed the alcohol was metaphorically on the top shelf, because the bartender quickly disappeared below the counter for a moment before unearthing a double-necked bottle. It was split down the middle with a luminous red line, the glass on each side of the division either glowing a soft green or an orange color. Nebulae was written across the front of the odd container in a very smooth font, the letters of which were also glowing a soft red.

The bartender poured the green side into a mixer before closing its respective opening, switching over to the orange half and pouring a sweet-smelling mixture out of that. Jax stared at the drink before him as it frothed up, fizzing a red color before starting to emit an incandescent sheen from within the glass. He touched the outside of the drink's cup, finding it to be a very comforting warm.

"Have fun blacking out, Husk." The bartender spat at Jax, shaking his head and moving away to tend to other customers. The Conscious, finding that retaliation wasn't worth his time, stepped away from the counter and made his way back to his seat. At the sight of an unknown man that had sat down with his two other squad-mates, he raised an eyebrow.

"Who the fuck's this?" Jax asked, nonchalantly taking a sip from his prepared drink before recoiling from the sheer power of the kick that it gave him. As opposed to the regular feeling that most alcohol gave him— a warm tingle, or nothing at all— this was strong. Very strong. He'd made a note to come here more often, if not just for the damn drinks. That, or buy himself a bottle of Nebulae.

"I'm a guy who's looking to give you fellows a good time, man. I was just pitching my product to your fine friends here... you ever heard of 'Stardust?'"

"The shit in space? Yes. I have."

The response triggered a nasal laugh from the man that Jax found indescribably annoying. After quieting down his noisy cackle, the shady dealer began digging around in his jacket pocket for a few moments

"Nah, I'm talking about this," He finally said, unearthing a small bag of reflective powder from his clothes. Through the clear lining of its container Jax could see a rainbow of colors dancing off the dust, no doubt from the strobing lights. He was lying to himself if he said he wasn't interested.

"No, man. I heard of that poison. Screws your brain up good. Get the fuck out of here, scumbag, you tryna kill us?"

"Hey, cool it, man! This is perfectly safe— well, relatively. Just don't take too much of it at once... shit hardwires your brain, man. It's like snorting real fuckin' cosmic dust, n' shit."

A look of uncertainty flashed across Jax's face. He scoffed.

"And how much are you asking for it?" The robot asked plainly, leaning back in the booth and crossing his arms. The two soldiers next to him simultaneously shot him a look.

"Don't tell me you're giving this crackhead the time of day, J."

"I'm not, I'm not. I'm just curious." The Conscious countered, raising a hand to help calm his disgruntled squad-mate. The man sighed and shook his head, taking another swig from his bottle of beer; Jax did the same with his drink, this time steeling himself for the peculiar sensation of the liquid burning in his throat. He couldn't quite describe it, but the sensation of a soft hum arose in the back of his mind. Was it the ambience of the nightclub, or was the drink affecting him? Jax looked back up to the dealer after a moment of silence.

"For you— uh, you're one of those Conscious, right?— how 'bout we say... free. Just this small packet. See if you want more afterwards?" The dealer said, eyes brightening up at the prospect of a potential buyer. He seemed optimistic, and that optimism was crushed when Jax shook his head in response. He took the small plastic packet from the man's fingers and opened it slightly, examining the luminous contents.

"I'll try anything once. Now fuck off before I report you," The robot spoke, watching as the man quickly sat up and scurried away. Jax raised the bag into the air for a moment, letting the colorful strobe lights of the nightclub catch and dance off of the dust's surface.

"How do you even take this, anyway?" Jax asked, looking to the PMCs sharing the booth with him. The one nearest him raised his eyebrows.

"It's dust-like. You snort it. Ever heard of cocaine?"

"Do I look like I got a God-damn nose to you?" Jax jokingly replied, his current drink already affecting him. It was odd; his insides felt... warm, a feeling previously completely alien to the robot. Was this what humans went through every time they drank?

I could get used to this.

— — —

The sound of a new person entering the gym area snapped Jax out of his daydreaming. While his mind was off in other matters, his body had automated its punching against the bag and the workout equipment showed the damage. Two profound and malformed dents in the bag's side were evidence of Jax's punching, specifically how it was concentrated in the same spot with every strike. He had his makers to thank for his precision.

It was a large, pink-haired woman that had entered the workout area; the same woman that Jax saw in the hangar. The ship's captain. She made an off-handed comment about his habit of exercising, and Jax responded with a scoff of levity.

"Man, that's funny. Were you sittin' on that one since the hangar?" He responded, continuing his assault on the large sand-filled punching bag in front of him. The last thing he needed to get into was a fight with the captain of this shithole. He'd probably head to the mess hall after this.

Pray to God there's some good booze on this ship.

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LunaHawk
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Re: Redemption

Post by LunaHawk » Mon Apr 23, 2018 2:58 am

illirica wrote:
Sat Apr 21, 2018 11:32 pm


"Spelling is somewhat of a.... personal choice, I find," Karana stated, "There are so many different combinations of letters that can produce a reasonable approximation of a particular sound. In your case, though, I haven't looked at the spelling you've chosen. I thought that this meeting was more likely to be productive were I to come in to it with an entirely open mind. No doubt I will read your files later, for background, but for now I want to know what you have to say." She smiled, politely. "Beginning with your name. 'Shade' has me... puzzled by its brevity, shall we say, and I wasn't certain if that was a name proper or if that was a nickname - and regardless of the case of that inquiry, I was curious as to the manner you preferred to be addressed."

Karana was somewhat more interested in the silence that had come when she had asked for the name, though. Usually, that matter was such a simple thing, and yet Shade had reacted strangely to the simple question. Anyone who had spent much time recently in society would be used to such a question, which implied that wherever Shade had been most recently, society was not it. Karana felt there was likely some sort of cultural sensitivity in the matter of name as well, given the hesitation and the inquiry over language. She thought, perhaps, that would be an avenue best pursued slowly, and with caution.

She leaned forward in her seat with earnest, folding her arms - but certainly not her elbows - over the table and clasping her hands. "All that, of course, was what I was thinking of before your intriguing demonstration. At present time, though, it begs the inquiry - and I hope you will not find me discourteous - What are you, Ms. Shade? I've encountered a number of sentient individuals in my life, and none who could reduce a tray to dust with such... shall we say... apparent enjoyment. You've piqued my curiosity, and I feel that a full understanding of your skills may be in order so as to ascertain how they may be utilized going forward in a manner most synergistic with the rest of the team."


Haed considered her words, weighing and listening to each one carefully until she arrived at the surprising conclusion that the woman was more concerned with her own well being than she was determining secrets. That, more than her affectation of politeness, was disarming. At least it was as disarming it could be under the circumstances. She smirked a little as the woman revealed the reasoning behind her initial inquiry. She let that line go since the other woman seemed content to do the same. Explaining her name, her real name that is and not the one assumed for a society and a species incapable of understanding her actual name, was not a road she wanted to travel just now.

Her smile broadened a little. She had wondered when someone would get bold enough to ask the question that really mattered. She had come onto this ship in chains and a mask, she had been revealed as a plan c of sorts for if things went south...and here was the first person asking what, rather than who. Haed motioned for her to remain where she was and walked to where a bowl of fruit was stored. She came back with the fruit and placed it in the center of the table. She removed an apple, examined it as if it mattered to her somehow and then set it down next to the bowl.

"This is what you eat. It is physical, it contains certain nutrients, fats and sugars. Eating a single one can restore your mood, help improve your blood sugar level and even stabilize nausea, under the right circumstances. I am a Time Siphon, a Temporal Vampire...a Chrono Ghoul if you insist. I eat time." She had no need to but she held her hand above the apple palm out as a show of what she meant. The apple aged in an instant, suddenly rotten to the core, then nothing at all. "I eat the temporal energy of objects and sentient beings, the time you have left to you, if all things are equal. I can see your timeline, older more powerful Time Siphons can even read into your past or see into your future. I didn't enjoy the trays, what you saw was the joy of someone who was eating real food for the first time in half a century."

She placed her hands on the table, leaning over it. Her eyes narrowed. She was angry...but the anger was not directed at the other woman. "I have been feeding on the half life of particles through a fething window for fifty years." Her voice was suddenly cold, like an arctic breeze. "it's bad enough that every moment of my existence is torture, it is starvation to be a Time Siphon. Imagine, if you would, being one day from death by starvation...your entire life and you might have an inkling of what I am and what I feel."

She took a deep breath, centering herself again and pulled back.

"My apologies. My anger is not directed at you." She said quickly. "Trays and inanimate objects are flavorless, but they're better than the half life of the particles in light. As for my skills, I can do all sorts of fun things with time and bullets, time and myself or time and others. Of course, I can also kill people." She made a gesture to where the apple had been to indicate the latter. She pulled an orange from the bowel and tossed it up into the air casually. The orange...skipped. In one moment it was traveling its normal route up above her hand, then in the next it skipped the steps between rising and reaching the apex of its journey, suddenly at the point where gravity took over and began to fall back towards her hand. It skipped again, suddenly back in her hand. She placed it back into the bowl.

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