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thisavrou_log2016-06-02 02:55 am
beautifulspaceraptor) wrote in thisavrou_log2016-06-02 02:55 am
[Open]
Who: Nihlus Kryik and you!!!
When: Pretty much whenever.
Where: Around the Moira!
What: Weird napping locations and sparring?
Warnings: Sparring??
Lord of Powernapping
Normally, you wouldn’t catch Nihlus dead sleeping. Not even Eric or Tyler have probably ever seen Nihlus really sleeping. Staying up with the blanket draped over him like some demented, huge bird and the glow of his omni-tool lighting the fabric up underneath, yes. Actual sleeping though?
Rare.
And yet, if you walked into the Cargo bay sometime this week, there’ll be a figure curled up against the side of the nearly finished fabricator with schematics laid out around his head like a bizarre halo. Or you’ll find Nihlus down one of the endless hallways, in a dark corner and leaning oddly against the wall with a broom held loosely against his chest (he’s not in Cleaning anymore, and yet). If one ever wanders into the engine room, there’s someone holed up under the pipes, tools scattered about him, but there’s no sound of things being tinkered with.
If one gets near enough, they could almost hear the very soft ‘chrrrchrrrchrr’s.
He’s not in as deep a slumber as he might seem, though.
Training Room
The ship is pretty much dead quiet. It’s a few days after the new arrivals and everyone was down on the Collectives.
It’s strange, but Nihlus found the silence peaceful for once. He finishes repairing that airlock, finalizes the repairs on some of the Scraplet damage and goes down to fiddle with the fabricator some more.
He’d debated going down for a supply run, but… that could wait a while more. They’d gotten a lot necessities through the Amissis-R and the Moira was going to be docked for a while yet from the looks of things.
So, for the first time in a while, Nihlus takes to the Sim room.
For anyone who walks in, they enter a room with tall, sloped ceilings and pale walls contrasted with warm tone lighting. The floor is lined with panels of what almost looked like nacre, the strange, iridescent material warm under barefoot. Wide windows streamed alien sunlight into the space, but if one tried looking out, they’d only be greeted by the vaguest outline of a silvery city through the brightness.
In the center of the room, Nihlus is decked out in his thermals and currently going through some sparring warm-ups with what looked like a red turian VI.
If you want to duke it out with a Spectre agent, now might your chance!
Wildcard!
((OOC: Ping me at![[plurk.com profile]](https://plurk.com/favicon.ico)
zapperkat if you want to discuss a scene or have any questions!))
When: Pretty much whenever.
Where: Around the Moira!
What: Weird napping locations and sparring?
Warnings: Sparring??
Lord of Powernapping
Normally, you wouldn’t catch Nihlus dead sleeping. Not even Eric or Tyler have probably ever seen Nihlus really sleeping. Staying up with the blanket draped over him like some demented, huge bird and the glow of his omni-tool lighting the fabric up underneath, yes. Actual sleeping though?
Rare.
And yet, if you walked into the Cargo bay sometime this week, there’ll be a figure curled up against the side of the nearly finished fabricator with schematics laid out around his head like a bizarre halo. Or you’ll find Nihlus down one of the endless hallways, in a dark corner and leaning oddly against the wall with a broom held loosely against his chest (he’s not in Cleaning anymore, and yet). If one ever wanders into the engine room, there’s someone holed up under the pipes, tools scattered about him, but there’s no sound of things being tinkered with.
If one gets near enough, they could almost hear the very soft ‘chrrrchrrrchrr’s.
He’s not in as deep a slumber as he might seem, though.
Training Room
The ship is pretty much dead quiet. It’s a few days after the new arrivals and everyone was down on the Collectives.
It’s strange, but Nihlus found the silence peaceful for once. He finishes repairing that airlock, finalizes the repairs on some of the Scraplet damage and goes down to fiddle with the fabricator some more.
He’d debated going down for a supply run, but… that could wait a while more. They’d gotten a lot necessities through the Amissis-R and the Moira was going to be docked for a while yet from the looks of things.
So, for the first time in a while, Nihlus takes to the Sim room.
For anyone who walks in, they enter a room with tall, sloped ceilings and pale walls contrasted with warm tone lighting. The floor is lined with panels of what almost looked like nacre, the strange, iridescent material warm under barefoot. Wide windows streamed alien sunlight into the space, but if one tried looking out, they’d only be greeted by the vaguest outline of a silvery city through the brightness.
In the center of the room, Nihlus is decked out in his thermals and currently going through some sparring warm-ups with what looked like a red turian VI.
If you want to duke it out with a Spectre agent, now might your chance!
Wildcard!
((OOC: Ping me at
no subject
"Hah! Well, that too," lift of the eyebrow, toss of the head; no harm, no foul, it's all just good fun. "Stop me when I get too literal, huh? It's a thing we Programs do."
"I'm not hurt," full-body shrug. "You just...surprised me."
Well, hello, apologetic grin with fascinating external curvature--what is the purpose of this structure in nature, all planes and edges and sharp, predatory finish?
Meet the very best and most sincere boyish grin he stole from the grandad of all mischief-making layabouts. Is it real? Does that matter?
"You be careful;" it's a different harmonic, tinny in its electric too-precise mimicry, "or I'll just take you up on that someday."
He starts by lifting that arm; now, was it this way that he grabbed?
"Can you show me yours--I mean, what were you doing, before?"
Says the guy who has no idea he just volunteered to get thrown.
no subject
It'd probably have provoked an uncanny-valley reaction in an actual human, but the difference was just fascinating to someone on the outside of it. Nihlus' most powerful tool of his trade was being able to read people and the little peculiarities like these stood out, a strange little game of 'spot the differences'.
"I'll give you a little walk-through how about?" the Spectre offers, pausing a bit before moving closer again. "Might be a nice way to warm up to each other's moves. What do you think?"
In reach now, Nihlus stops and extends his own arm, but he doesn't touch just yet, waiting for Clu's response. Just to be doubly sure the guy'd be okay with how things were about to play out.
His palm hovers an appropriate finger's-width away from the inside of the admin's wrist and safely away from any glowing circuitry.