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big & small
"It is an exploration for truth; the reveal can be more terrifying than the unknown."
With supplies low and the general morale of the crew very much the same, the Moira still continues to move through the Runoff at a decent speed. As per Captain Ira's orders, plans to stop at the nearest port of call to re-supply and (hopefully) give those aboard a chance to recover from the catastrophe of the Luminous Sea and its subsequent plants have been made priority. Without much incident, after nearly a week and a half of traveling, the ship makes ready to dock.
WELCOME TO THE MINI COLONY
The Mini Colony was first established as a outpost between the Fixed Moons and the Living City of Inanna. Yet, over the centuries, it has flourished into an outpost of trade and commerce as well as is home to numerous individuals from across the universes. The temperature is generally mild all year, and even when it isn't, there are control units throughout the Mini Colony regulating weather conditions to keep it from such high extremes. Its citizens, while diverse, appear to cohabitate together well and are generally welcoming to those traveling through. However, beyond the numerous tourist areas, there are more dangerous and less friendly places in the Mini Colony. Anything and everything can be found here. You just have to know the right person to ask.
☄ OUT AND ABOUT There is quite a lot to see in the Mini Colony, and not even an entire week will allow for all that this place has to offer. Aside from the multiple businesses found within the MC, there are also plenty of other sectors ready to be explored by those crew members willing to brave these particular places. Yet, within these sectors, there are some "unknown" places that not even the locals really give much attention to. If explored, everything is as normal as any other place on the Mini Colony, but as time progresses, the trek through begins to take longer and longer. Soon, you find yourself tired and with no end in sight as to happening upon another sector, and after a while, a nearby bench seems to beckon you to sit. Upon sitting, a soft humming sound fills your ears and in the span between blinks, you're suddenly waking up on the Moira just as it docks at the Mini Colony. Talk about deja vu.
☄ SWEET NOTES After a few days, those aboard the ship may notice that particular areas of the Mini Colony are beginning to prepare for some sort of celebration. This festival is known as the Desiderium Festival, which derives from "an ardent desire for something that has been lost", and is a celebration to remember and honor the dead—as well as the living. It is celebrated with a particular fruit that ripens around this date every year. This citrus fruit is tart, yet sweet, and crumbles into caviar when removed from its rind; the fruit has no special effects on the eater but pairs nicely with alcohol for after-hours consumption. The group that throws this festival, the Lamaria, make paper from the rinds of the fruits, which is then used to write on and is the only proper paper for these notes to be written on. As fitting the occasion, people wear special finery to present the notes to their friends and relatives and to wear to the grave sites where they leave the notes for the dead. These tend to be burgundy and lime colors, like the fruits, and are shot through with gold. Participating is considered a great honor, so if asked to join, carefully consider before declining.
( ooc; For questions, go here. Please comment to activity check to receive new ranks (if applicable)! The CR Meme is also up! )
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hownkai) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thisavrou_log2016-10-02 12:25 am
no subject
[Yes, slavery is bad, and yes, this form of profit and exploitation is just as bad, but frankly? She doesn't care! IF anything, she'd use this place as a prime target to rob blind and take complete advantage of ---
Wait.
INTERPOL had hired from the start for this kind of thing. She was hired to take down the people they couldn't figure out. If there's anything she's learned across the planets, it's that people don't really ever change.]
The both of you are piss-poor at playing the system. He's right, this is just a distraction. You want to take this place out? You hit them where it hurts.
[She scrubs her face with her right hand. I don't really care, she tells herself. A more honest excuse would be that she's just looking for something to do and a way to get out without more blood on anyone's hands]
I can't believe I'm saying this, but there might be a way to stop this. [Now she directly stares at Hawke. Good thing she has her glasses on because underneath the lenses are a cold, glittering pair of black eyes.] If you stop with your idiotic murder spree and think beyond the scope of violence.
[Isha can't do the damage that she'd be able to do under normal circumstances. But if this place operates just like any other place she knows?
Greed and reputation are beautiful things to target.]
no subject
Instead she's quiet eyes closed, arms crossed, a bit like she's nodded off to sleep. Once Isha's finished, she jerks dramatically. Like someone who's just been violently awoken out of a deep sleep.]
Yes, right. Now that you're done going over things that I've already thought of, maybe we can cover new ground?
[Her voice never drops the lilting cheer but there's darker tones to the edges. She shouldn't really be taking this out on them. It's not fair and part of her knows it but the other part of her feels like she's been interrupted in her own mission to have other people tell her what she already knew she had to do.]
Of course this is a distraction. Of course, the people on top are the ones that matter. Still, sometimes you have to kill the other distractions before they kill you so you can actually make it to people on top.
[She reaches up and yanks her collar down to reveal a nice long red gash across her pale collarbone. Clearly, a result of someone who tried to come and take her out from behind. From her appearance, a young, thin woman, she makes the perfect target for all of these desperate gamers. Hawke reaches into her bag and pulls out something small and metal and glowing and shows it to them.]
I picked this up off one of them. When you move certain directions the light flashes more or changes colors. I think it might show us where at least someone who's watching us is. Because they're definitely watching.
[Then she closes her fingers around the device and shrugs.]
Not that we have to work together or anything. Though situations like these are how I seem to make most of my friends. If you do you though, you can have my gun. [She gives it to them with a grin like it's the best peace offering the world has ever seen.] Look. It's all shiny and murdery! Perfect for the mood.
no subject
[She really doesn't give a shit about the damage done, because clearly Hawke brought that upon herself. No remorse, no emotion. The charming thief is nothing but ice now, the persona she so clearly fashioned for years and years. There was nothing too sacred for Mythos to destroy. Whatever the consequences, so be it. She'll get a clearer picture soon enough of what they think of her. And from there? Why, that's just another little part to play, of course.]
You haven't covered everything, but clearly your mental scope isn't very broad outside of murder. Remind me when I need to order hit to send you in to get rid of an entire room.
[Though her voice is still even, Isha is beyond irritated. Murder is the easy way out. Murder is the final way out. She made herself a thief, which made her think in two hundred different ways, at least.]
Keep your damn gun, I'm not planning on using it.
[Out of pride and out of spite, Isha doesn't even want to take the device, despite that being their best bet in starting to figure out the mechanics of this place.]
I hope you know that nothing is going to change after this. You might kill everyone in this place and get to the top, but someone's already done this before and they're likely prepared for it. All you're doing is wasting time and doing upper management a favor by picking off the weak. They'll find more to replace this, and they'll find more ways to prevent incidents like this from happening again.
[Not that she ever really thought Hawke was level headed, or much at all in these terms, really, but this is building nothing but a bigger portrait, and proving what she already knew of all people: nothing changes, no one knows who anyone really is.]
Good luck with your endless cycle of blood. I'm not having part of this.
no subject
Isha. [The way he says it, quiet and firm, the one-word sentence sounds about ten times weightier than it should.]
No one's saying this has to be a bloodbath. [He says, with a pointed glance in Hawke's direction. After a pregnant pause, he turns it back on Isha.] But if what Hawke says is true, the people we might run into out here aren't going to be playing around. If it comes to a choice between our lives or theirs– there's no decision to make.
[Not that he's going to let it get to that point– not if he has anything to say about it. As if to illustrate his intent, he accepts the proffered gun in Isha's stead and gives it a quick once-over, sliding the magazine free after a split-second hunt for the release. Space guns. Takes some getting adjusted to. But by some brilliant stroke of luck, it seems none-too-different from the sorts of firearms he's already used to: fifteen rounds in a clip, minus the one he'd already popped out of the chamber... And minus four more shots.
His gaze flicks briefly upwards, landing squarely on Hawke. Assuming this was provided to her fully-loaded... Seems it's already seen some use. Explains why she doesn't look as thoroughly wrung out as he might've expected – the magic she'd normally use to defend herself takes a lot out of her, doesn't it? Takes a lot out of her physically anyway. He can't say that she doesn't look exhausted mentally – not by a long shot.
Sliding the lone round back into the magazine, and sliding the magazine back into its well, he stows the pistol in his (recently emptied) holster. It's ready to see more use, whether Devan likes it or not. Real change might not happen by way of a gun, as she says – but that doesn't mean that they can let what's happening here go by ignored.]
I don't think any of us agrees with each other's methods, necessarily. But ultimately, we all want the same thing. [A look from Hawke to Isha and back again, as if waiting for one of them to object.] Survival, if nothing else. Worst thing we can do here is split up over a couple differences.
no subject
Honestly, she doesn't care what Isha thinks or says. She doesn't need her help to do anything at all and honestly, this is wasting time that might be precious.]
Well now that that's over. I hope you feel better or at least compelled to use your own mental scope to do something rather than stumble around the jungle looking confused.
[She looks over at Adam when he reprimands the other woman and then shrugs. If she kept this up, there was a lecture coming her way and she wasn't interested in that right now. She'd kill people if she had to and that wasn't going to change.]
Well it's good that we want the same thing because it would be nice if this detour ended up being productive. But don't let me keep you here if you have other places it be. It's a big place! Lot's of potential tourist destinations. But at the same time teamwork is nice. It makes you feel all warm inside. So maybe we can start with this?
[Hawke extends her palm again with the small blinking device in it.]
no subject
This was her game. Hawke would do whatever, and it would blind her. Easy enough. Hawke and Adam, all magic and augments, would be the real threats, the real targets. She couldn't convince her, but Isha could still use her.
They were all being watched, weren't they? So already she painted herself as the weaker of the group with a moral high ground. Fantastic. Either she'd become the easiest one to pick off, or the one no one cared to find because she was useless. No one would want a slave with a mouth and delicate sensibilities. But it would be a matter of time on that one. She hoped the latter, but the former she was prepared to surprise people with the knife and the electricity in her fingers.
They wanted a show and a game. She'd play along. She'd just play on her own terms.
Wasted time? No. It was in her favor, if she could play it right.
A very vague part of her told her she would regret this. Not for long, the manipulator bit back. So what? It would be just another item in a long list of things she's already done.]
Don't get blood under those nails, love.
[Without much else, she backs off and leaves, Q following suit. Things always change. Things never change.]
no subject
Hey, don't do anything you're gonna–
[And... Too late. Gone.] –Regret.
[Goddamnit.
He could easily go after her. Unless she's hiding some latent, superhuman physicality, she's not faster, stronger, or more agile than he is– and knowing that, it's his gut reaction to go ahead and try and stop her before she goes off and runs into someone else who's faster and stronger than she is. But something stays his hand– and the few seconds of hesitation are enough time for her to outrange his sensors. No changing his mind now.
Letting his hand fall to his side once more, he turns away, shaking his head. No lecture incoming. Just an air of wordless, simmering anger – although it's annoyance mostly directed at himself than anyone else. There're a lot of better, smarter decisions he could've made today, and he wonders if this isn't one of them. But if it's the choice between letting someone go it alone or struggling to make a fundamentally dysfunctional team keep it together...
Isha can do her thing, but he can't help but get this feeling from Hawke like she's slowly but surely reaching the end of her rope here. And as hell-bent as she is on doing this the bloody way? If the goal is to keep all three of them alive... Everyone's chances may be better like this.
A few more seconds pass in silence (where it looks like he might go diving back off into the jungle anyway) and then he sighs, turning his attention back on Hawke. Still frowning, but that's par for the course where he's concerned.]
Alright. Least we can do is make it hard for these guys to pay attention to anyone but us.
TIMESKIP
Hawke and Adam are wedged between the door to the safe house and the entrance to the control room where endless mooks seem to be pouring in. They all seem to think if they make an impression, they'll come away with slaves just a like a victor in the game. Hawke shoots a wave of lightning at the attackers before slumping against the wall. She's exhausted. Her mana is gone. She's covered in blood and sweat and starting to think she's a fucking fool for jumping into this mess.]
So. Adam. Bright ideas to throw out now?
no subject
Make that a few fights. One or two she won if only because she was smart enough to get away and then come back to slice a few knees and hands useless.
But she'd made some headway at least on her own. It was a lot to take in, and it was a lot to get her pride to decide to play nice, but she had to do it. She had to go find the other two again.
At least the mess they were making was obvious, to say the least.
Tired, but not out, Isha made her way to the disaster zone in full stealth. She'd been careful to not waste what little she had, careful to make sure to keep moving to keep an active recharge on it. Q moved just as stealthily.]
He's probably not the one you want to turn for a bright idea.
[A familiar, yet dismembered, voice calls out from not so far behind. Q races towards Adam, pawing lightly at his foot before flattening himself to the ground.]
Q! Titan!
[Lighting up red, Q viciously makes his way towards the attackers, tearing out chunks of calves.]
It's not going to last long, so think fast before we're in deeper shite.
no subject
He's on the cusp of suggesting something suitably bright – something like "hit them harder and faster than they hit us" – when he's interrupted by a familiar voice and equally familiar robot dog. He shrugs, although the trickle of blood snaking its way down his brow doesn't do much for this illusion of cool ease he's cultivating here.]
I was mostly just planning on sitting here until a hacker conveniently dropped in.
[And would you look at that, here she is, his tone seems to say. Mr. Tall, Dark, and Stoic doesn't exactly come with a wide range of visible emotions (beyond Serious and Mildly Disapproving) but he seems especially unsurprised at this turn of events... Almost as if he hadn't lost faith in a certain master thief doing the right thing in the end – even if it's chiefly to save her own hide. Small steps. If it means no one else here having to die a horrible death today, he'll take what he can get here.
He grimaces, as a sudden salvo chips away a little more of the concrete wall standing between them and a bunch of overeager grunts, dusting the three of them with grey mortar. Getting ahead of himself as usual. Just got to focus on what's in front of them– deal with what they can change, and then move onto the next crisis. Wiping away the blood on his brow with the back of his hand, he indicates Isha with a nod.]
While we distract them, you see what you can do about those controls. [And then, to Hawke:] If you can take their attention, I'll get around behind them.
[The idea needs little explanation: these guys are idiots. Enthusiastic, but untrained. Fighting a battle on two sides, they'll crumple like paper... Theoretically. Adam leans the rifle against the wall by Hawke with a knowing glance; with the fire and lightning coming in less and less frequently and each show of power looking more anemic than the last, it's not hard to see she's hitting her limit. He's about there, himself – and this augment he's counting on carrying him through this is an energy hog, to say the least – but what little juice he's got left in his batteries is going to have to do.
A quizzical look at the two of them. No time for argument, so once he can see they're both ready to make this last push...]