thisavrou_log | [open] i tried to sell my soul last night

[It starts in the library. It’s a frequent haunt of Zam’s, seeing as there’s little else to occupy him on the ship when newcomers aren’t pouring in and his crewmates are occupied with their own assignments. Not to mention, given the recent disaster with Tex on Amissis-Re, it’s all the more tempting to forget about reality for a while and books have always been useful in that capacity. He’s browsing the shelves, head tilted slightly to read the titles on the spines, when a flash of silver at the edge of his vision causes him to turn his head sharply. He stares at the end of the row of bookcases, frowning uncertainly. He could have sworn he had seen someone. More than that, someone in silver armor. But there’s no one there now. Is there?

Cautiously, he approaches the end of the row, footsteps gone silent. He doesn’t see anyone, but just to be sure, he risks a look around the corner -- probably startling the daylights out of you if you were about to turn that corner yourself. Sorry!]

[The sightings keep happening. Just when Zam’s starting to relax, something else catches his attention: a flash of silver armor, a glimpse of a familiar face, the sound of steely footsteps following him when he’s alone. It can’t be what he thinks it is. He had left Jango in the fusion world. It had only been Zam and Tex’s body on the way back up.

But for all the reasonableness of that thought, Zam’s still paranoid enough to decide that they may as well take this opportunity to try on a new face. If someone is following him, it could be enough to throw them off. He doesn’t make the change in his room. His room feels strangely… watched lately. Instead, he takes the chance in an empty corridor, after he hasn’t caught sight of anything in awhile. He uses his reflection in a dark window looking out at empty space, focusing on shifting quickly, the edge of one hand raised to the center of his face to ensure symmetry. He’s so focused, he doesn’t realize there’s someone else approaching...]

Edited 2016-05-30 22:27 (UTC)

[Mettaton, for his part, was lost in his own thoughts at first. Thoughts about what kind of great new shows he was going to get to recording, as well as deciding on how he was going to ask a certain skeleton out on a date.

Puzzles. Puzzles are the best thing for it.

Eventually, he does come across Zam and at that point, he realizes...something's weird. Is their appearance...shifting?

Intrigued, he quickens his pace so that he can get a better look.]

...Oh my!! I didn't know that was possible!!

[He's loud. He's boisterous. And he's probably going to catch Zam off guard. He doesn't care though! Shapeshifting is cool!]

[Zam jumps at the sound of a loud voice, hand reaching for their blaster -- and then stopping mid-reach when they see who it is. Instead, they bring a finger to their lips in the universal gesture of ”shut up.” Zam doesn’t care if Mettaton watches, but he does care if he shouts what he’s doing loud enough for a certain bounty hunter to hear.

He turns back to his reflection in the window. Mettaton had interrupted just as they had been putting the finishing touches on the eyes. The shape changes along with the color, going from blue to brown.

Finished, he turns back to Mettaton, watching him appraisingly.]

If you have something to say, say it quietly. [He’s expecting questions. Probably “How did you do that?” and “What are you?” in either order. ]

[Mettaton puts a gloved hand to his mouth, his eyebrow raising quickly as if to express that he's sorry for having been so loud. He has no idea what the call for silence is, especially in a place where, as far as he knows, there's no one meaning to harm another crewmate around here.]

Sorry darling, I was just very impressed with how you controlled your appearance. It's...breathtaking! I'm a little jealous~

[At the very least, his emphatic statements are quiet, even if they aren't all that calm. The questions may come later, but Mettaton does love to dole out praise where praise is needed.]

[Zam blinks, caught off-guard by the droid’s effusive praise. Usually the most favorable reactions he gets to his shapeshifting can be described as “respectfully weirded out.” Mettaton’s reaction is so out of the ordinary that Zam half-expects that he’ll follow it up by asking for a favor -- that’s the normal outcome of unexpected flattery, isn’t it? Still, Zam can’t quite keep the corners of his mouth from quirking up in a smile.]

“Breathtaking,” huh? Never heard that word used to describe it before.

And why not?! A talent such as that should be considered nothing less than a gift! If it were that easy to change form then I--well, let's just say that I wouldn't have to worry about amassing a horde of once-used costumes, nor fret over wardrobe space!

[Ahaha. He wouldn't have had to go through such trouble and wait for his EX body either but he's not going to mention that.]

I hadn't ever realized that you could do that, darling. Please, accept my apology for being so unobservant!

[Zam’s smile broadens at the continued adulation, strange sightings momentarily forgotten.] Well, you know, for someone like me it just takes a little practice. [...Well, actually a lot of practice, but Zam’s soaking in that “gifted” descriptor for all its worth.]

No need to apologize. I usually don’t go out of my way to change in front of people. [Like the changing of clothes, it’s only done when practicality calls for it.] Not everyone’s so, ah, appreciative of my versatility.

That's silly! Versatility is a good thing!

[Mettaton can hardly contain himself. Keeping quiet is hard.]

You're so very lucky! I am certain that with skills like that, you'd be excellent in show business, or stealth! Which is...what I am assuming you were going for!

[Zam basks in the praise for a little while longer before Mettaton brings up stealth. AKA, the thing he’s supposed to be shooting for right now.]

Ah, right. That’s… actually why I need you to keep your voice down. [How to explain this without sounding like he’s gone off the deep end?]

I think someone on the ship might be following me and I’m trying to get them to stop. [That’s acceptably vague, isn’t it?] And if they hear someone talking about an amazing shapeshifter in their midst, well, it’d be pretty obvious you’re talking about me.

So… We should probably change the subject.

[Zam can’t believe he just said that.]

Oh, I see. Well we can discuss it another time, honey!

[Mettaton doesn't claim to understand, but he goes along with Zam's explanation like it's perfectly normal. Even if he doesn't think so, he's a great actor, and besides! If it was true, he ought not be causing any trouble for his shapeshifting friend.]

Where were you headed? [Best to offer a proper change of subject, right?]

Oh, I hope so. [He flashes Mettaton a grin -- just because he can’t gush about how amazing Zam is now doesn’t mean Zam’s not interested in future opportunities.]

I’m headed to the Mess Hall. Care to join me or do droi-- robots not have to eat? [Right. Gotta scrub those regional terms from his vocabulary if he wants to avoid attracting the wrong kind of attention.]

[Zam hasn’t been sleeping very well for the past couple of nights. Just when he thinks he’s about to drift off, there’ll be some little noise or flicker of movement in the room, only for there to be no obvious source when he turns on the lights. He’s determined to ignore them this time. He’s tired and he knows well enough that there’s nothing there. It’s just his imagination, just residual anxiety from the close call he’d had in Amissis-Re’s Ingress.

He actually succeeds in falling asleep this time. He just doesn’t stay that way for very long. Without warning, he’s jolted back into consciousness by the feeling of hands wrapped around his neck and he barely has any time to process it before the grip around his throat begins to tighten. He tries to gasp for air, but it's like trying to breathe through a vice. He struggles and lashes out above him, but his fists meet only empty air and any attempt to rise off the bed are thwarted by a heavy weight pinning him in place. Desperate, Zam tries to pry the invisible hands off his throat, but his fingers only find empty space. His own hands wrap around his neck as if trying to block his assailant, but it doesn’t stop the constricting force from growing tighter and tighter.

And then, just as quickly as it had appeared, the unseen grip around his neck suddenly vanishes. Zam gasps for air and struggles upright, staring panicked into the darkness with his hands still wrapped protectively around his throat. A moment more of catching his breath and his hands shakily drop. It's only a moment afterwards that he's moving quickly out of his bed and towards one of the dressers where he keeps his blaster. He feels safer once he has the weapon in his hands, but he’s still shaken. He takes a moment to flick on the lights and look around the room. Still, there’s nothing to see. Turning out the lights again, he moves out into the hall, moving half on instinct as he searches the deck for anything out of the ordinary, blaster in hand.

Maybe you’re one of Zam’s roommates unpleasantly awoken by the brief flicker of the room’s lights. Maybe you’re another inhabitant of Moro Deck awoken by the sound of someone patrolling outside. Or maybe you just happen to be awake at the same hour for different reasons. Whatever the case, you’ll find Zam -- wearing the face of a stranger -- walking around with a gun in his hand and a livid ring of bruises around his neck.]

[Zam’s given up trying to sleep. More than that, he’s actively avoiding it. Which means caf. A lot of it. He makes periodic visits to the ship’s café, most frequently during the night time hours when the urge to sleep is strongest.

If Zam weren’t a shapeshifter, it might be obvious that something was very physically wrong with him. He’d have dark circles under his eyes from lack of sleep for one thing and he’d have some very obvious bruises around his neck. However, since he is a shapeshifter, those marks stay hidden. He looks unharmed and perfectly alert. Vigilant, even, though he also has brief moments of staring off into space and then seeming to snap back to reality.

He’s sitting at the café now, looking like a stranger and knocking back espresso like they’re shots (complete with a mildly disgusted look immediately afterwards). Maybe you should go talk to him?]

{OOC: Your character may try to talk Zam down or even try to approach/attack him. However, they will not succeed in subduing him and anyone who tries stepping further into the flight desk risks serious injury or death.}

[The flight deck seems empty. But if you’ve seen Zam’s network post, then you know it’s not. A strategic eye will notice crates of cargo have been placed deliberately, creating chokepoints and cover. You’ve only taken a few steps into the space before a voice stops you.]

That’s close enough. [Zam’s voice, uncharacteristically cold. You don’t see him, but it’s safe to assume he’s behind one of the many scattered crates.] Turn back and leave. It isn’t safe here.

[You get the feeling he’s right, whether or not the threat he fears is genuine. Will you heed his advice?]

Edited 2016-05-31 23:42 (UTC)

[ It's the height of foolishness, going off after Zam when he was clearly in no fit mental state. But then again, Harry wasn't always the most sensible man in the world. You needed more than a small dose of recklessness to be a spy. So rather than waiting for someone else to do something, Harry turns up in the flight deck himself.

He walks up, posture carefully kept neutral and nonthreatening. The whole set-up is worrying with the use of cover. It's a killbox. Hopefully Zam isn't in a position to snipe any innocent passerby. Harry left his gun behind in the workshop, so when Zam orders him to stop he does. His hands held out to show that they're very clearly empty. ]

As I see it, you're the one making it unsafe. Is there some reason you're doing this?

[Zam isn’t planning on shooting anyone who isn’t Jango Fett, but they aren’t going to sit idly by and let someone drag them out into the open either. He stays hidden behind cover, but his blaster is ready at his side if he has to escalate to more serious threats.]

It isn’t any of your concern. You leave, you won’t get hurt.

[Other crewmembers have come and taken the old man away. Zam had let them, sitting silently behind the cover of a few stacked crates. They were too far away for Zam to hear their murmuring, but it doesn’t take a genius to know that the crew thinks he’s crazy. They’ll accept that Jango killed Tex, but not that he could be here now. But the Ingress on Amissis-Re is still an Ingress; it’s supposed to bring people in, not just send them out. And Jango’s good at staying hidden; subtlety, he’d always said. Slipping in and out and leaving nothing but a body. Zam had done the same, when they could. Is this what their targets had felt? Did their mark’s friends think they were cracked too?

It doesn’t matter because he’s not. He had seen Jango on the ship. He had followed them back from Amissis-Re. The only thing that doesn’t make sense is why the bounty hunter is taking so long to finish the job.

The sound of approaching footsteps catches Zam’s attention and his grip on his blaster tightens. He looks out from behind cover, eyes scanning the darkened flight deck. He doesn’t call out or threaten. Just watches and waits.]

[Rinzler's seen the network post. Rinzler's seen more, little glimpses of Zam flitting past in periphery, recognizable only in scan-sense. He'd been curious, but there was plenty else to be distracted by. And whatever hunt or search they were engaged in, surely it was the user's business. Not his own.

That's changed. The enforcer's steps are quick and measured, low ticking rumble echoing out just ahead. He stops of his own accord just a few paces into the flight deck, mask tipping unerringly toward the cover Zam's hidden behind. The mask jerks forward and to the side. Come out.]

[Zam hears the noise first and then picks out the baleful glow of red-orange circuits in the gloom. Not Jango. But still possibly a threat. Zam sees his gesture and scowls.]

I’m not leaving, Rinzler. Not until this is done. [He doesn't have a choice. Nowhere on the ship is safe and he isn't spending another day being hunted. No matter what the rest of the crew thinks of him in the meantime.]

Done.

[The line flashes up on Zam's MID, no effort wasted with projections from this range. And not much with conversation, either. The glitching trojan was messing with his ships.]

Malfunctioning.
Threat: not present.

[Last chance, he doesn't bother verbalizing. Rinzler reaches to his side, unclipping one of the batons attached there.]

[Zam reads the text in brief glances, never taking his eyes off the program for long. He scowls at the last line.]

I’ve seen him on the ship. I know he’s here. And he isn’t going to stop until one of us is dead. That’s how he works.

[Rinzler doesn’t know Jango. He doesn’t know how good he is at his chosen profession. Taking out a mark undetected is nothing to him.]

I’m not going to sit quietly and just wait for him to pick me off again.

[Rinzler doesn't know Jango. He also doesn't care. Jango_Fett isn't the one holding system resources hostage. And considering those resources are under Rinzler's charge? Zam has a much more immediate threat to worry about.

The MID display closes, and Rinzler reaches back, filling his other hand with his merged disk. It lights with a low hum, and the enforcer steps forward, visuals locked on his target while scans sweep out to check for traps.]

[Rinzler’s scans will find several small explosive devices scattered throughout the flight deck. They’re mostly set in choke points, some triggered by pressure and some by a snag of wire -- or perhaps by a well-aimed blaster bolt. However, one device in particular is not set anywhere on the floor of the flight deck, but rather on one of the transporters; in fact, it’s nestled right against the fuel tank, within easy range of Zam’s blaster.

Zam can’t see Rinzler’s scans, only the disk held in his hand. He raises his blaster, training it on the program.]

Last warning. Back. Off.

[open] i tried to sell my soul last night

library; may 24th; OTA

may 26th; closed to mettaton

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sorry for delay, alan's life is exploding

that's ok, i took a minute too lol

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moro deck; may 27th; open to moro deck inhabitants

café; may 28th-30th; OTA

flight deck; may 31st; OTA

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flight deck; may 31st; closed to rinzler

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