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Post by Omni on Oct 8, 2008 20:12:17 GMT -5
Back at the lab, Brian thought to himself as he got back into his work clothes. That was weird. First that energy, it felt like… indescribable! And then when I started seeing things, it was almost like I could feel a connection to something. It was, well, kinda cool, actually, up until it hurt. Boy! Did it hurt…
I wonder what was going on? Well, I can look at the readings later. Right now I need to get this suit back.
He finished dressing and walked out, saying a quick 'be right back' to the other scientists before entering the hallway.
"Computer, where is Special Ops. Fraze?"
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*whine*
"Oh, quiet down Siber. You look fine."
Siber, who was walking alongside Ethan, did not look happy. He had a towel and a small bag strapped to his back. {I look like a pack mule!}
Ethan couldn't understand what Siber said, but he did understand that he was angry. "Siber, if you leave that bag alone, I'll remove it right after lunch. If not, you keep it until the end of the day. Alright?"
Siber made a sound that could only be a huff.
"Now where to eat today?"
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Post by Rider on Oct 8, 2008 20:27:59 GMT -5
[glow=red,2,300]The hairs ont he back of Rider's neck stood up. She had been in enough bars to know when a brawl would break out, only this time it seemed like it would be more of an icy catfight.
"Cyborg was found guilty." She knew this would explain it all. "And our buisness at the Space Port is none of yours."[/glow]
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Post by Kat on Oct 8, 2008 20:54:10 GMT -5
Kat wanted to say something to Keng...perhaps pat her back, or tell her that it wasn't her fault. But something told her that it was time to keep quiet.
So she did.
* * *
John crept down the stairs, leading his siblings.
Thankfully, the demon had not divested them of their weapons - for the simple reason that they were very well-hidden. The triplets were sons of the dagger and knife, although Jingleheimer often kept a few small bombs on his person - bombs that, exactly two seconds before going off, would jingle like bells. John and Jacob often laughed at this; after all, it seemed very apropos to their brother's name.
"There's no one here," said Jacob, sighing. "Bet the demon drove 'em off."
"Or worse." Jingleheimer dug into the small pouch on his belt that held his precious bombs.
"Now, now, I killed no one, see. That mage wench drove everyone out, then her friend came along too..."
It didn't take long for the triplets to realize that the demon was still there, writhing against the purple ropes - magical ropes, apparently, from the way they cast a faint, flickering glow. For the most part, he still looked like their grandfather.
John aimed a kick at the demon's side. "What did you do with our grandfather?" Jacob and Jingleheimer quickly joined in, punctuating their words with more kicks.
"Yeah, what did you do with our grandfather?"
"You drowned him in the swamp, didn't you? Didn't you?"
Despite being constricted by the magical bonds, he managed to let out a throaty chuckle. Wincing at the pain, he answered, "Oh, the old geezer lost his sense of balance with his youth, yanno. Wasn't my fault that a single push would send him into the deep end. I didn't mean it...or did I?" His eyes glittered grimly.
"Why?" John crouched beside him, drawing a dagger and placing the keen edge at the demon's throat.
"Can't tell you that, young'un. Ooh, that's confidential, yes." He glanced up at the ceiling, preferring not to look at the furious young man, or the blade that could slit his throat at the slightest movement. "But do you really want to know?"
"Yes, we do!" the three men shouted. Jingleheimer was about to draw one of his bombs, but Jacob gripped his brother's bomb-hand in time.
Keeping his voice low, Jacob said, "We might need the demon alive. Don't...not just yet."
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Post by Zylaa on Oct 8, 2008 21:56:50 GMT -5
"I'd rather you two not pry into my personal life, thanks," Speck said. "We'd best be getting back to the captain. Do you guys know where she might be?"
"No offense," Zylaa said, holding up her hands. "Just want to make sure we're not at any risk of death. Any more risk than usual, that is," she amended herself as she began to follow Speck out of the building. Perhaps the snappiness is just from getting tied up, but she seems like she's hiding something, Zylaa thought. ... More than usual.
"I have no idea where the Captain is, but the weasels should," she said, producing the spoon from her pocket. "At least, if there's anything shiny around them."
With the small motion of taking out the spoon, three weasels had already appeared on the floor by Zylaa, and hopped along, gazing up at the glittering spoon for a few moments before Zylaa put it back into her pocket. The most enterprising weasel leaped and clawed its way up the back of Zylaa's clothing, coming to rest on her left shoulder, where it reached up to paw at her earring.
"Lead us to Huntress," Zylaa told the weasel, moving her left hand up to shield her ear. The weasel looked at her.
"Huntress?" it said, as if it had never before heard the word.
"The shiny crossbow," Zylaa said with a sigh. The weasel nodded happily, opening it's mouth. "Speck, Jina, if you two wouldn't mind taking a weasel each, they can direct us, and that way we won't have to wait for them."
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Post by Jina on Oct 9, 2008 1:13:45 GMT -5
"Speck, Jina, if you two wouldn't mind taking a weasel each, they can direct us, and that way we won't have to wait for them."
"Alrightey then," replied Jina. "Umm... hang on, what did you mean by take, exactly?"
But she didn't really need an answer, because she simply followed Zylaa's lead.
[glow=green,2,300]------------------------------------------[/glow]
Anester was the perfect pickpocket. Fast, just the right height to steal without notice, and her dark monkey fur could help her hide in the shadows should she make a slight mistake. She knew all this, and in fact didn't mind admitting it.
And there she stood, at a crossroads in Tabloid Town. She was focusing on one of those roads in particular, at least she was now that she had seen them. From the look of their clothing they must have been pirates. But that was alright, it simply meant they were slightly richer than anyone else.
Anester set off towards them as the middle one pulled out a spoon.
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Post by Kengplant on Oct 9, 2008 1:15:59 GMT -5
Keng did understand Rider perfectly well and she was immediately conflicted. At first she felt the same hot swelling coming from deep within her when she had first re-encountered the hunter who had killed Fredrick of her old pack. The red rage of vengeance. But these weren't some random misinformed monstrous chaps, and it wasn't like Cyborg hadn't provoked anything. But they'd killed him. Feral anger and voracity was beginning to get the upper hand in her mental battle, her logical thoughts fighting valiantly against it's rise... and then her communicator rang.
In a trancelike state she couldn't think of much else to do other than answer it. It was a text message from the critical ward of the medical wing. The marine who's blood still stained her clothes hadn't made it. This was too much to take. She stepped back, almost stumbling until she reached the wall: her eyes still on the message. Unable to stand any longer she collapsed, sliding down the wall in a dull motion. Her head fell into her free hand which ran through her still dust filled hair as she continued to stare at the message, then, unable to bare reading it again, she whipped it across the room at the opposite wall (where it deflected to hit Merpo's head). It clattered across the floor, it's message still legible to any who might pick it up.
"I think I'm having a bad day." she said eventually to add a new contestant for the annual understatement of the year.
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Post by Speck on Oct 9, 2008 2:08:21 GMT -5
"Just want to make sure we're not at any risk of death. Any more risk than usual, that is."
Speck reached down to let the weasel crawl up her arm and onto her shoulder. It pawed at the lemon-charm that was strung across a gold chain around her neck. She swatted at it to stop, staring down the path as she tried to think of an answer.
"They shouldn't-- I-- Their quarrel is with me. I don't think they'll put you in any harm," She said. ...if it should come to that, she finished with a thought. Were she not so occupied with keeping the weasel from gnawing her lemon charm off, she would have been tempted to bite her nails.
"Miss...er, pirate-lady! In the green!" A voice called from behind their group, who wasn't far from the entrance to the bathhouse. Speck turned, wondering if the bathhouse attendant was addressing her. The attendant waved her hand to get Specks attention, a bag in the other hand.
"You left this in the other room, miss!" Speck gladly took the bag from the attendant. It would have been a waste of money to buy those new clothes just to leave them in a dark room.
"Thanks," Speck's mouth flickered with a smile, and the attendant waited in front of her. Seeing that Speck wasn't reaching for her purse to give a tip (or possibly deterred away by the odor of her company) the attendant hurried back to the bathhouse. Zylaa's weasel craned its neck to see what was in the bag, but Speck interrupted its wandering eye, "You won't find any shinies in there, little one."
The weasel resumed eyeing Speck's necklace instead.
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Post by Zylaa on Oct 10, 2008 16:08:11 GMT -5
"Umm... hang on, what did you mean by take, exactly?" Jina asked. Zylaa didn't bother to answer as the weasel took a flying leap onto Jina, latched on to her outfit, and likewise clambered up to Jina's shoulder.
"They shouldn't-- I-- Their quarrel is with me. I don't think they'll put you in any harm," Speck said.
"Good to hear!" Zylaa said cheerily. She paused for a moment as the attendant helpfully rushed out with Speck's clothing. "Good place, that," she said, turning, as the weasel pointed the way. "High quality. We'll have to go back there sometime." She started walking down the street, away from the bathhouse and the nicer section of town. "Oh, and #165, stop messing with Speck's necklace," she called.
((Jina, Speck, feel free to write us all the way to the spaceport. I'm not sure what you're planning with Anester, though, Jina.))
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Post by Jina on Oct 10, 2008 18:04:54 GMT -5
Anester didn't duck when an attendant from the bathhouse came out and shouted to the pirates. Why should she? It would just make her look suspicious. By the time they set off again, she was just a few metres behind.
She sped up a little, choosing her target. The one in the green, who had collected a bag from the attendant. Slowly she closed in.
"Oh, and #165, stop messing with Speck's necklace," said the one with the spoon.
Her hand reched into the pocket of the pirate, but she recieved a bump from behind. She turned around, and heard a quick mumble of "Sorry," before whoever it was that had knocked into her rushed past.
She took a quick peek around to see if the pirates had noticed.
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Post by Speck on Oct 10, 2008 18:51:44 GMT -5
Speck felt a bump from behind, and turned, grabbing at her pockets. Her hand felt a small furry wrist, grabbed it, and turned on the spot to look down at the creature.
She knelt down to eye level with Anester, tightening her grip on the wrist.
"Don't stick your hand where it doesn't belong," she growled. Speck patted her pockets, still holding the monkey's wrist. Discovering something missing, she held out her hand to the thief, "You'd best give that back, before you blow up half the street."
Anester had been unlucky enough to grab one of Speck's lemon bombs.
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Post by zarikrahia on Oct 10, 2008 21:09:46 GMT -5
((I'm sorry for hiatusing on you all- I had a schoomproduction! Would someone mind giving me a recap? Here's my excuse-post for you all, to cover why Zari's been absent. ^^  ) Zari dumped her bag on her lab's table and collapsed onto the nearest chair with a sigh. After the events of the second Guild War, she'd asked permission to take a trip home to Illhvren. She'd found her home-planet in very good condition- the economy was now somewhat stable and her old allies in the undercircle were...nonplussed, to say the least. It had been nice seeing them again, but she had missed Spacefleet more than the young genetic scientist had anticipated, cutting her ten-week trip short. Removing the visor she'd been wearing to help herself accustom to the brighter lighting conditions in Spacefleet, she wandered over to her last experiment and took a look. Gak, seated on a table, had not moved a millimetre. The lime-green cleaning robot seemed to have shut down entirely. Cautiously, the ocelot-Illhvrenan extended one gloved hand towards the robot, unsure. With a whirr of gears, the robots arm shot out, grabbed Zari by the wrist, and threw her into a shelf, which promptly collapsed. With Zari's luck in mind, it was no suprise that the shelf held about twenty supply crates. ZariKrahia Valnae Raldia Ailden, also known as Zarayn Fonate, stayed lying on the floor for about four days, until Latiere went looking for her. -- "Professor Ailden?" "...ten more hours..." "Professor Ailden?" "Mah, it's too early...' "Here, let me- ZARAYN FONATE! WAKEY WAKEY!" "...bite me..." "Oy vey...gimme that, this'll wake her up for sure..." CRACK! Zari sat up, took one look at her surroundings, and began swearing so loudly- and so vehemently- that Umbra had to whack her with a spatula again to make her shut up. The Illhvrenan swayed unsteadily for a few seconds, then grabbed the spatula and pointed at the nearest official. "The emotions around here are as stable as the average round-based mahhk'ailen field. A few questions- how long have I been out, why is the emotional climate around here so nasty, and how can I help?" The commando paused. "Well, y'see, Professor Ailden-" "Zari! Call me Zari!" "Um, Zari, you've been out just under a week..." Zari's jaw bottomed out. "What-" she began, but the commando cut her off. "Let me finish. The situation is...complicated. Y'see..." ((Leaving an open window for whoever wants to control Commando guy.)) |
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Post by Huntress on Oct 12, 2008 15:55:33 GMT -5
((Zari: as of now, the pirate crew is lurking around in the Tabloid Town Spaceport and the vicinity, looking for a way to get up on the moon. Cyborg was executed and is feeding the fishies. Fraze is having lunch with Ikkin. TMC's bike is doing funny things to the universe. Keng is having a bad day. And Hunty is asking everyone to go prod Chikkin with the pointy end of a badger in order to get a Sevpost done x3 Actually we're also lacking guild encounters and planetside fleet officers, but the way things are going now, we won't be planetside for long.))
"I think I'm having a bad day."
Hunty, who was a lot more compassionate than she showed, looked at her with a somewhat worried scowl. Keng was, by all accounts, still an official member of the crew and the captain had made a rule of always sticking up for her crew. But this situation was a lot more complicated than that. Because of Cyborg again, come to think of it. Lovely.
"If it makes you feel any better," she said heavily, "we're here to call Sev to have him resurrected."
Bloody Mary, who'd been sitting quietly on her shoulder, analyzing the spaceport and the situation in his own meticulous way, looked up all of a sudden. Keng was with the Fleet. Revealing to her the reason for bringing Cyborg back was a bad idea any way you looked at it. But did they have a choice by now?
The meepit looked up at Hunty, unable to make anything of the expression of her face. Except a lot of concern - but concern for what?
At that point, Hunty spun around and smacked the panel button with her crossbow.
"What's taking you?!" she bit.
"Message relayed, awaiting confirmation from the HQ, please allow five minutes for delivery," came the quick and nervous answer.
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Post by Kengplant on Oct 12, 2008 21:23:17 GMT -5
"Liar." Keng spat. But her comment was not at Huntress. "Don't trust public computers when they give you a time frame." she explained, then began punching in various things into a side panel for the computer.
"Message relayed." said the computer when she was finished a few seconds later.
"There. Now they won't have to try to find him and relay the message to him. There'll be an announcement for him to report to a guard or guide-bot that will take him to a station to receive his private message. And because I've given it my authorization it won't go through any virus scans or other completely unnecessary security or anti-spam protocols, in other words, you can now expect it to actually only take 5 minutes or less."
---
Up at the space station the speakers were already relaying the message. "Ambassador Sev the Phoenix, you've got mail. Please report to a guard, guide-bot, or messaging system for further assistance." By this time a guide-bot had already located him.
"You have. 1. Message." it whirred helpfully to the fiery bird. "Would you like to read it now?"
---
"So... you killed him and now you want to bring him back? Want to explain to me exactly how that works?" Keng now asked back at the station.
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Post by Kat on Oct 13, 2008 3:30:25 GMT -5
The demon laughed again. "Try whispering a little quieter, boy, I can hear you. Why would you need me alive? After all, you three are demon hunters. I am a demon. Get the picture?"
Jacob gritted his teeth, but this was no time to berate himself for being overheard. "We're hunters, not barbarians. If you cooperate with us and tell us everything you know, starting with why you killed our grandfather."
"Then tell your brother to keep his dagger in its scabbard, where it belongs. I am harmless where I am; that mage knew her knots and magic well. If I knew how to escape, then I shouldn't be here bargaining with you."
Hazel eyes blazing, John glared at the demon but made no move to put away his dagger. "Or, you could just be bluffing. Some of your kind have special gifts."
"Like you three. You're a fine hand with a blade, aren't you?"
"Shut up!" John's dagger hand trembled. "We're wasting time! Fine, but if you try to escape, Jacob, Jingleheimer and I will stop you."
"And we're not all steel," Jingleheimer chimed in. "We know other tricks, too."
The captive's grin faded into a more stoic look fit for bargaining after John finally withdrew his weapon, and the triplets crouched down and surrounded the demon. After all that talk, the silence in the deserted tavern rang in their ears, until it was broken by the demon finally telling his story.
"Your grandfather was needed for a special purpose. Unfortunately, he would not cooperate, and it turned out that he didn't have what we needed. I got rid of him and impersonated him, hoping to find you three brats and what we were looking for. But then...well, as you can imagine, things went wrong - " At this, he paused, gasping, but now he smiled wider than ever before, the golden tooth - and the rest of him - glimmering like a flickering candle. John drew his dagger, Jacob drew a knife and a hand axe, and Jingleheimer drew two bombs.
"Oh, that won't be necessary," said the demon, rolling over on his back so he stared up at the trio, who were now on their feet. "You see, now that I've said too much, I will meet a fiery death in approximately...oh, five seconds. It was nice knowing you, and knowing that I didn't say anything extremely important. Just enough to kill m - "
John kicked the demon viciously in the jaw, knocking out a tooth. Then he made a mad dash for the door, calling, "Get out of here, you two! I think he means it!"
By the time the Landfish exploded in a flurry of scarlet flames, gray smoke and burnt wood, the three brothers were out on the road, covering their heads with their hands, weapons strewn all around them. Everyone on that side of the town screamed and panicked, quickly running into houses and shops and barricading every door and window. Two people ran over to the triplets, helping them up.
"What happened? We thought that place was completely deserted!" one of the cooks of the Landfish said as he pulled John up. "Good thing you got out in time..."
"Was it the demon in there?" asked a pretty waitress, touching Jacob's cheek as she helped him stand. "The demon the mage warned us about?"
John nodded. "Suicide spell. At least he's gone now."
"But so's the tavern," the cook sighed, watching Jingleheimer brush some dirt off his pants before picking up his beloved bombs. "We're out of jobs, but hey, there are a thousand and one taverns around here, anyway, maybe more. And good thing the owner wasn't here to see this. Where are you three headed?"
The siblings shrugged simultaneously. After some goodbyes, they were alone on the road, and they traded several looks with each other.
"It's obvious what we have to do now," John decided, sheathing his dagger. "Figure out what's going on. At least the demon said something before he kicked the bucket."
"And, he left us a present."
Jacob raised his eyebrows. "Jingleheimer, if this is one of your strange - "
Their brother shook his head and held up a single gold tooth, smiling almost as wide as the demon had been during his final moment. "This thing could be worth a lot!"
"Or, it can help us solve this mystery. Hold on to it," John replied, elbowing Jingleheimer. "If it really is useless to us, then we trade it. Kapish?"
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Post by Jina on Oct 13, 2008 4:23:26 GMT -5
You'd best give that back, before you blow up half the street.
So the pirate had noticed. Still, by the sounds of things, Anester still had an ace up her sleeve. Or fur. Or whatever.
She brought the arm which had not been grabbed forwards and passed the bomb into it. Then she quickly snapped it back again.
"So this can blow up 'alf the street, eh? Well maybe I will unless you let me go and take some o' yer stuff with me!"
[glow=green,2,300]------------------------------------------[/glow]
Jina looked down at the strange monkey. She watched as it swiftly moved the bomb away from Speck. It was rather clever, she had to admit. But pickpockets were pickpockets, not the type to hold ransomes.
Jina began to wonder if the little creature had the guts to do as it said. Turning to Speck, she said "Do you wanna try call it's bluff?"
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