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Post by Marcus O'Terra on Oct 28, 2015 0:08:48 GMT -5
Space: Above Three Hills
March Seventh; 17;35 Standard Alliance TimeA ship sailed through the black; its sharp lines coupled with its brazen, if a bit faded, paint job made it an uncommon sight. Kelpler typese were usually found in some posh Core-Corp CEO's private 'no fly' hanger. This one, not so much. Dings in the plating, chipped paint, that subtle rattle in the decks when it went into, or came out of, full burn. She was Chainless, a less known Mk II type, and DAMN was the girl a fun ship to fly. Marcus had rigged the ship up so that one man could fly her from where he'd found her. She was a full weight class below The ship he'd served on before, and calling her 'Surefoot' now. He doubted Illana would keep that ship though. Marcus had frakked up too many times for her to want that name. But this ship's speed, her 'cartography' sensors, and the fact that she'd served as a yeoman and a scout during the War all made her a much more lovable ship. It didn't hurt that not one drop of blood had been spilled in Marcus acquiring her, and he'd even managed to make enough plat in the exchange to buy decent false papers for her. RECENT false papers. After so much fecal matter had collided with the intake turbines, so to speak, Marcus had gone to ground. Laying low didn't do it justice. He'd gone full space hermit while the others went off to keep living. The Black has a funny way of turning sane men mad, and mad men sane. Marcus hadn't realized how broken he'd been until the second week, and bottle of whiskey. After a lot of tears and more than plenty of night terrors, Marcus felt that he needed to change course toward something better. When he saw the message for an Aardvark crew, posted by Illana herself, something stirred in his brain. So he spun up the drive to do something besides make atmo and clean the water and set course for Three Hills.  17;51 SAT; Zipper's TavernMarcus smiled as someone was playing piano music in the corner. It was a lilting tune, a haunting melody, and it gave him a thrill even in the crowded, backwater, sinkhole of a 'bar'. Wait. This place wasn't nearly as crap as it had been the last time he rolled through here. A proper energy screen window instead of some plastic wrap mockup? Real bottles behind the bar, actually wood tables. Even the dives had been getting better off in his absence. Damnit where was all the squalor and depression he was told would run rampant if the Alliance won. Suddenly taking in the various grizzled, if hygienic and fairly dressed crowd, he realized that maybe it wasn't the Alliance that was the source of such fortunes, and found a seat at the bar. "Evening, Barkeep. Got Hard Root Beer back there?" He asks with a smile, he receives a nod, and after he puts down a few coins, gets a cool can and a clean mug. He pops the can, takes the first swig and smiles. It's good to be back.
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Post by Ilana Logan on Oct 28, 2015 11:35:02 GMT -5
Jumper's Quarry, Marshall Rock
6:03 PM Local Time
Ilana parked the mule inside a recess in the wall of rock near the quarry. She pressed a button on the control panel to shut it down. She climbed down off of the mule and stretched. The mule was currently loaded down with items from The Chainless, secured in six waterproof containers of varying size. She walked around to the front and opened the hatch containing the battery and disconnected it from the operating system. She connected the cables from the little device she rigged up to the battery, powered it on, and closed the hatch.
Stepping back, she pressed the button on the remote from her pocket and the air filled with a soft, but heavy hum, feeling her hair stand up with static as the air filled with an electrical charge. She replaced the device back into her pocket and climbed carefully out of the Quarry.
"Was that really necessary?" Roman asked.
"Of course it was," she replied briskly. Then she asked, "I expect you'll be gone by the time I get back?"
"Yes, unfortunately I will. We have a job to do," he said. He leaned down and kissed her cheek and said, "Goodbye for now."
Then he walked away. Ilana climbed onto the ATV and sped off, racing the mile back to town.
Zipper's Tavern, Marshall Rock
6:20 PM Local Time
Ilana climbed off of the ATV in front of the tavern and strode inside. She stood inside the door for a moment, looking for a familiar face and found Marcus at the bar. God, what a sight for sore eyes! It'd been too long, and while he had told her he was coming, she hadn't really believed it. She walked across the room, climbed up onto the bar stool next to Marcus and said, "Hey Zip. Bourbon on the rocks, if you please."
Zipper grinned at her and said, "But of course."
He poured her drink and slid it across to the bar to her. She caught it deftly and took a sip, closing her eyes and letting the slow burn light a fire in her belly. She opened her eyes, glanced over at Marcus and said, "So... Where the hell have you been?"
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Post by Marcus O'Terra on Oct 28, 2015 11:54:35 GMT -5
Through the corner of his eye, Marcus caught a glimpse of a familiar mane of red. Ilana. Damnit, all it had been some time. What would this conversation be like? Would it be condescending, inquisitive, caring, oblivious, or just...
"...Where the hell have you been?" Or just Ilana asking her ex-captain/pilot where he'd been. That's how small talk starts, isn't it? He was actually struggling to remember, none of the vids he'd been watching in his free time had much dialogue, and he usually watched them muted: for reasons.
"Ah. Well, I suppose I was orbiting Ita for a while, with the rest of the wrecks and debris." Ita, the moon of Whittier and near a Black Rock as you can get without the Alliance compensating the terraformers for their wasted efforts, was home to one of the biggest and most sprawling orbital scrap yards in the 'Verse. Consequently anything that couldn't be sold and salvaged legally wound up there and was sold or salvaged illegally.
Like the Surefoot, once the Quickfoot [/i].
"Did tug and slag duty for... most of the time." He scratched his chin. There's a mean, and I mean UGLY mean, tug racing circuit; that got me out of the shared barracks and into my own bunk." He ticked off the order of events. "Ran afoul of the beau to the local slag baroness, but I won the fight so that was my dance card filled for the foreseeable future." He grumbled under his breath for the next bit. "So I took my whoring money and bought a old, but shiny Kepler Two, and did cop-watch for the scrappers till I saw your ad pop up."
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Post by Jay Fuller on Oct 28, 2015 12:36:15 GMT -5
Boring.
That was the word that came to mind when Jay reviewed the past several weeks. The jobs had been lacking in excitement and the crew didn’t seem to be enjoying anything anymore. Maybe Jay was projecting, but he felt like everyone was turning a bit sour. A couple years ago, Jay would have thought it awful and frightening to be wishing for the adrenaline of combat or the pressure of pulling a high-profile job. Even when those jobs weren’t often, Jay would miss it. He wanted some action, some adventure. He wanted to have a little risk in his job. He wanted to pull a bullet out of someone’s arms with a pair of chopsticks, goddammit.
Okay, so maybe he was romanticizing it a bit too much. An after effect of the lack-luster jobs they had recently. And with a lot of the crew in a sour mood, it didn’t help. When they finally landed, though, Jay occupied himself with some grocery shopping. Ilana had posted a wanted ad across the Cortex, and Jay proposed making a meal for anyone who came on board. When Ilana had some business to take care of before the meeting, the medic saw it as a good opportunity to do a little food gathering.
Surprisingly enough, the shopping didn’t take long. A lot of the groceries he needed was within a central market close to the meeting spot. And, on top of that, he was under budget! As he finished the shopping, he wondered if he should tag along with the meeting. He wanted to meet some of the potential crew members beforehand. Besides, going back to the ship sounded like the opposite thing he wanted to do.
He slung the four bags of food over his shoulder and made his way to the bar. When he entered the bar, it was thankfully not crowded. Carrying a few weeks’ worth of groceries for an entire crew was not an easy task. He quickly scanned the room to find Ilana and a familiar face. Marcus! Jay had preoccupied himself so well that he forgot Marcus was potentially showing up. He quickened his pace and headed toward the bar.
“…and did cop-watch for the scrappers till I saw your ad pop up.” Marcus had finished saying.
“Shengsheng de gou shi, Marcus!” Jay said, clapping a hand around his shoulders, “Thank God you’re here! Our current pilot is awful, we’ve almost crashed at least every time we’ve flown.”
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Post by Ilana Logan on Oct 28, 2015 13:01:28 GMT -5
"Ah. Well, I suppose I was orbiting Ita for a while, with the rest of the wrecks and debris," Marcus said. "Did tug and slag duty for... most of the time." He scratched his chin. "There's a mean, and I mean UGLY mean, tug racing circuit; that got me out of the shared barracks and into my own bunk. Ran afoul of the beau to the local slag baroness, but I won the fight so that was my dance card filled for the foreseeable future."
Ilana whistled low under her breath at his story, and Marcus grumbled under his breath for the next bit. "So I took my whoring money and bought a old, but shiny Kepler Two, and did cop-watch for the scrappers till I saw your ad pop up."
She opened her mouth to say something when Jay appeared, laden with groceries to last until approximately the end of time. “Shengsheng de gou shi, Marcus!” Jay said, clapping a hand around his shoulders, “Thank God you’re here! Our current pilot is awful, we’ve almost crashed at least every time we’ve flown.”
"Hey kid! 'Bout time you got here!" Ilana said, sliding off of her bar stool. She picked up her drink and patted Marcus on the hand gently. "Come on. Let's get a table. We've got a lot to talk about. Namely, what's happened to The Chainless."
She walked to a table in the back corner of the room without waiting to see if they would follow and put her back to the wall in the corner chair.
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Post by Marcus O'Terra on Oct 28, 2015 13:27:14 GMT -5
Marcus could feel Ilana building a response as he told his story. The sass was building, Marcus could feel it. Still, he didn't brag about shacking up with a woman who could bench a fuel cell without expecting some kind of cutting reply. But then if you couldn't share stories of your conquests with your old, and once again, shipmates, who could you share them with?
Ilana was about to lay the hammer down, when Jay walked in, and interrupted. Marcus's jaw dropped.
Where was the slip of a boy, the stick of a medic, whom Marcus had welcomed onto his ship at the promise of bandaged bullet holes and decent cooking? The man that strode through the tavern was wary and worn, more whipcord than wimp core. He looked good.
"Damn it all, Jay." Marcus laughed, "What are you feeding yourself, man?"
He got up and gave the man a hug, partly because it wasn't something Marcus would have done before he'd left; partly to suss up if he was carrying a gun on him. Not today it seemed. Still a BIT soft, then.
"Table sounds good," He nodded toward the table Ilana had chosen, grabbed his drink and mug and swigged as he walked over to the table and sat down with his back to the wall, eyes on all exits.
"So what were you going to say, Ilana?"
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Post by Jace Cisco on Oct 28, 2015 14:06:21 GMT -5
Forgotten Location, Marshall Rock
17:43 Standard Alliance Time
The smell, that is what hit Jace first, his eyes shooting open on his feet reaching at his hip, nothing but flesh meeting his hand, his pistols missing from his hip discarded with his clothes in the empty chair. Standing in the darken room drenched in a cold sweat, bottles of liquor littered the floor seeing the doxie still asleep in bed realization finally sinking in he had drunk way too much in celebration of recent news.
"Gorram!" Jace exclaimed as he saw the time.
Flinging some credits on the table, grabbing his things and taking off in a awkward run trying to get dressed. Bursting through the entrance of the establishment, his shirt inside out, but at least on along with the rest of his clothes figuring out his location he wasn't too far from the tavern; therefore, he wouldn't be too late, a sigh of relief washing over him as the brisk pace he set would get him there in time.
Zipper's Tavern, Marshall Rock
18:23 Standard Alliance Time
The headache, bright light from the sun was torturous on Jace. Finding the sanctuary of the tavern was truly a blessing, the familiar tavern almost a gift last visit had reunited his crew when things had gone south on a previous job. Scanning over the entrance noticing the exterior was entirely different than he remembered, less worn more fancy, shaking his head he knew this tavern, but not in this state. Jotting down the mental note he would need to find another tavern on Marshall Rock, he crossed the threshold of the door quietly his fingers running along the pommel of his knives under his coat, nervously looking around peering through the room. He had been too long on the ground and was eager to be back in the black. ...."Our current current pilot is awful, we’ve almost crashed at least every time we’ve flown." Hearing Jay's voice trail as he quietly crossed the room to the group and thumbed Jay roughly in the ribs.
"I will remember that buddy, when you want to get the hell out of dodge." Jace said tauntily, "Marcus it is good to see you again old friend." Taking a seat beside Jay, giving Ilana a quiet nod eyes on the door. Leaning back in his chair his hand under jacket again hand on his pistol, muttering quietly to himself, he was losing it on the ground always expecting the worse on the surface. He was too tense, no wonder he couldn't remember last night or part of today with all the booze. He should probably have Jay examine him on the ship to see if that doxie had.... "about what happened to the Chainless." Ilana had interrupted his thoughts at the mention of the ship. His attention now on the conversation perhaps he had missed something in the Cortex or previous messages, but he needed to listen now.
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Post by Ilana Logan on Oct 28, 2015 19:12:15 GMT -5
Marcus sat down, back to the wall, same as Ilana. "So what were you going to say, Ilana?"
Ilana, still smiling from the ribbing Jace had given Jay at his comment, paused a moment to give the other two men time to get seated. Once the only three members of her original crew were seated, she sighed and said, "Guys, I hope you understand what I've done here, and if you don't then it is I who will understand."
She took a swig from her glass, sighed, and shook her head. She opened her mouth to speak, looking around the table at her crew, then closed it and took another drink, emptying the glass. She caught Zipper's eye and waved the tipped the glass, politely letting him know she would like a refill. Then she turned her attention back to them. She shook her head again and began...
"It's a long story, how I got where I am now. How this happened..." She trailed off as Zipper brought her a fresh drink and whisked away the empty, nodding to him as he did. Once he had gone, she looked down at her glass and she began again, "But I'm not gonna bore you with all of those details. Onward and upwards, right? Anyway, about a week ago, we were hauling a load of gorram coal to Beylix. Pretty standard job. Nothing came about to make my life any more interesting than I generally care for...
She sighed, took a long pull on her bourbon and continued, her eyes still not making contact with anything but the bourbon on the table, "The problem came about when the starboard fuel cell shut down. Now, we had enough on the port side to get back here no problem. The issue came about when I went to the scrapyard looking for a replacement. New one cost more than we had saved. In any case, I ran into an old friend, and I was tired. So damn tired. She sighed, "Truthfully, until Marcus told me he had his own ship, I'd intended to come in here, and tell you all we had one final job to do and then I was going back home to the Savannah that ever gave me a job. You guys would have all had jobs there, if you wanted them, but I should have mentioned it to you first, and I didn't, and that's my bad."
Ilana took another long pull on her drink and went on without looking up, partly in fear of how they would take it, and also a little bit of shame for doing it on impulse rather than discussing it with her crew. She went on, "This job, this Captain thing... I may do the job alright, but it's more than I can handle guys. I thought I could do it, but I can't. I've gotten myself to a good place over the last six months or so, but I've been drinking again. A whole lot more than I should. Mainly to combat the stress of being responsible for the lives and well-being of other people. People I care for."
Finally, she looked up at them, making eye contact with them, then looking away toward the bar. "Being second to you, Marcus, wasn't the same. This weight wasn't there," she sighed. "I don't know how you did it... Anyway, onto what I've done. Like I said, I ran into an old friend at the scrapyard. He happened to be in the market for a new ship, and had the means to repair it and was gonna further pay us to get the ship back to his compound... And, on impulse, I sold The Chainless to him. For a damn good price I might add. Couldn't find a damn fuel cell in the scrapyard anyway, so we would have been stranded on this piece of crap moon."
"Now, before you say anything," she took another pull on her drink, emptied it, and waved Zipper for another. "The way I figure it, we can split the money between us, and the ship's fund of course, and be quite alright for a while. I was planning to split it evenly between us anyway, to help you guys with the fact that I'd just caused your possible unemployment, and because it was the right thing to do. Seems to have worked out for us, what with Marcus having another ship, but then again I didn't know that at the time. So...? Somebody say something."
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Post by Marcus O'Terra on Oct 28, 2015 21:46:53 GMT -5
Marcus thought back to how they'd acquired the Chainless, whatever name it'd had beforeband. The blood on his hands, and was that before or after they'd pumped Burt full of holes, after Marcus had sent a bunch of innocent people into Burt's sights. Frak.
"Trick with being Captain is having a crew who already want to do most of what their doing." He took a swig of the boozy root beer. "That way, when you tell them to do something they don't like so much, they're less stubborn to the idea." He rolled his shoulders again. His chairs on the Surefoot were much more worn in and comfortable. Or maybe he was just used to supple leather seats.
"I will say we short on supplies in the infirmary." He smiled at Jay, "Wasn't much need for me to keep it stocked cruising on my own."
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Post by Jay Fuller on Oct 29, 2015 0:13:58 GMT -5
Jay returned Marcus hug, and shot a cheeky grin at Jace as he walked up. “Hey now,” he said, “I’m just telling the truth. Ain’t no one flys a ship like you, Jace!” Jay turned his head to the bartender and ordered an ale. As he did, Ilana began to speak and he turned his attention back to her.
"Come on. Let's get a table. We've got a lot to talk about. Namely, what's happened to The Chainless." She said. Jay gave her a frightened, angry look.
“What happened to The Chainless?” he asked. It was partly humor, though the tone of her voice was a cause for worry. He grabbed his ale and followed the group to a table in the corner. He kept his eyes trained on his captain. Taking a seat next to Marcus, taking a drink from his ale. Ilana began her monologue. While he had always admired Ilana for taking on the role of captain, he could visibly see the toll it took on her. It hadn't been good. There were several occasions Jay had thought about approaching her about it, but the time never seemed right.
“…Anwyay, onto what I’ve done.” Fucking finally, Jay thought. The second she told them of her friend in the market for a new ship. “Shit,” Jay muttered. It wasn’t exactly hard to guess where this was going, and Jay could feel the anger rising up in him. When she finally finished, Jay was gripping his drink. He hadn’t touched it.
“You sold our ship,” he said. He slammed his hand on the table, either for emphasis or out of anger. “You sold our ship! Jesus tā mā de jīdū, why in hell would you do that?!” He was yelling now. “Did you sell all of our shit too? How about us, did you tell your friend it came with a fully loaded crew too? God, I understand it being shitty being a captain but for fuck’s sake, you sell our home out from under us! Fantastic coping skills, really, just great.”
When Marcus started talking, Jay didn’t look up. His gaze had been fixed on the ale in his hands. When he mentioned no infirmary, however, Jay let out a disgruntled yelp. “Ilana!” he shouted, “There’s no gorram infirmary! Excuse me.” He stood up, shooting Ilana a look that implied it was her fault there was no infirmary in Marcus' ship. He turned his back from the table and walked away. He knew that being mad wouldn’t help any of the situation, but at the very least he needed to cool. Jay hated being mad around people, especially those he was close with.
He pushed through the crowed on his way to the restroom. It was small and crowded, but mercifully no one was inside. He turned on the sink and splashed some water on his face. He closed his eyes and tried to quiet his mind. They had been on The Chainless for a while, but he was finally feeling like he was comfortable there. And just like that, gone. Bam. It’s like he had come home to find it wasn’t even there anymore.
Jay balled his hand into a fist and slammed it on the sink counter. If she had only just mentioned it beforehand, or at the very least did it differently somehow. At least then he would have had some say in it. They all would have. They all should have.
“Okay,” he said to himself. “This type of shit happens. You weren’t signing up for a luxury cruise liner when you hopped on that ship a year and a half ago…and now you’re talking to yourself in the mirror like some cliché movie. Goddammit.” He dropped his head down.
Think of the alternatives, he thought, Here, or on Paquin with family. Here, or in the Core working some shitty day-to-day doctor job. Here, or still in that ugly ass desert city taking blood for a cranky old man. Here. You would rather be here. He knew he wouldn’t be mad forever. But he wasn’t sure how long this anger might last. He just needed the minute to calm down and approach the rest of the crew with a level head…hopefully.
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Post by Honna Leigh on Oct 29, 2015 13:23:10 GMT -5
The bar was dark, smoke hung heavy in the air making it hard to breathe, and what could be drawn in tasted of stale drink and body odor. I had heard about this meeting and wanted a job on that ship. I could help I was a proficient cook and was good at stretching coin and food goods to make them last. Not to mention I could shoot with the best of them.
Eyes were surveying the room for the figures that had been described. I was not, however, expecting to be surprised by a heavy hand that smacked a lithe frame on the back nearly sending me t the floor. Fought for breath pushed from lungs making circles form behind lids. Well hells bells, scrambles up trying not to wobble sucking in big gulps of air, turning on toes ready for battle hands curled into fists ready to strike.
That balled up hand stopping midair as an Alliance officer stared down his slightly crooked nose at me. Fidgeting hands falling to sides, sweaty palms sliding along the skirt that hugs trim hips, falling to mid-thigh. “oh well hello, what can I do for ya?” Hoping that he would quickly get distracted, and walk away, flashes a sweet smile. A prayer said as a fight breaks out and the Officer hurries to break it up. Moving with speed, nears a table that I hope is the right one filled with the people that could get me away from this place.
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Post by Jace Cisco on Oct 29, 2015 15:10:34 GMT -5
His attention had been on the purple belly who had come into the tavern, he hadn't recalled this particular bar too fond of those gorram purple belly bastards, what had this place come to... the officer knocked over some tiny girl going through the place, probably some server or doxy looking to entice someone, clicking the hammer on my pistol hidden in my coat quietly as a fight started towards the back of the place, snapping back to reality at the mention of the Chainless!
The spot was growing intensely hot under this collar, Jace couldn't believe the garbage coming from his Captain's mouth, she had handled herself so well during the last two major jobs they had, the last major one did get them humped, and Ray had departed at that point, but that ain't a reason to do this without consulting her crew. Jay's rage was by far higher than his own. He had never seen the tiny fella act like this Jay had departed rather briskly towards the back near where the officer and fight had been, but don't think Jay was paying much attention.
"Well Cap'n you did a bang-up job here I am going to watch make sure he doesn't get hurt." The only thing Jace could spit out at that time, he was in shock he hadn't expected this neither did Jay apparently. He jumped from the table and bumped into the girl who had been knocked over by the officer, but he had no time for her and wanted to make sure the tiny guy didn't do anything stupid.
Jace cracked the door to be able to watch Jay, standing at the door to scan the tavern, what kind of moonbrained idea was this, what was Ilana thinking how far had her head been shoved up her pi gu to think this had been a good idea. Though a ship under my feet is still a ship in the black away from the Alliance. He liked Ilana he knew she had a good head on her shoulders in most cases, thanks to Winstead he had finally found a crew worth throwing his lot into it, they knew how to survive, and that was what was important. Seeing Jay punch the sink like the damn think owed him money it was time for Jace to come in.
"Easy there killer, yi qi shen hu xi!" Jace exclaimed entering the bathroom, "You'll wake up the whole ruttin' place breaking their latrine and sinks. Jay I realize you are furious, and frankly I am too; however, as moonbrained as this idea is Ilana does have a ship waiting for us to step onto we can be back in the black and away from all this again." Unsure who I was trying to convince more that this was ok, jay or myself... I had settled onto the idea that even though as insulting and ridiculous as it had been with Ilana doing something this extreme without talking to them, she had managed to secure jobs for them, and to sweeten the pot she had been able to secure a new ride and anything that put them above the atmo was better than being stranded on the ground.
pi gu - arse
yi qi shen hu xi - let's take a breath
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Post by Marcus O'Terra on Oct 29, 2015 21:05:13 GMT -5
Marcus took another drink of hard root beer as some slip of a woman slide in and almost got flattened by an Alliance officer doing more to raise tensions than keep the peace. Frakker. Jay responded with fire at the thought of their 'home' being sold off, and Jace didn't look none too pleased. Jay probably didn't understand that in the verse, if you made the wrong choices or even the right ones but just didn't succeed at following through, things could get bad. Jace likely did, and that's why he wasn't blowing up about it.
"How quick they forgot we got that ship by murdering the back stabbing crew who'd had it in the first place." He whispers to Ilana. "Surefoot's a clean slate." He scratched the back of his head.
"You COULD have waited until I got here to tell them and make the exchange Ilana, give the kids a chance to say by to the old bucket." He does add with a tad more volume, so he was sure to be heard by her in the growing din of the bar.
Things were starting at a spin, which was normal for Marcus. Where to take them from her though.
"While the boys are washing up for dinner, why don't you give me the bare bones of this job you have in mind?" He suggested.
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Post by Ilana Logan on Oct 29, 2015 21:36:48 GMT -5
Zipper silently delivered her fresh drink and whisked away the empty. She looked at Jay, expecting… something. Something else… Not exactly expecting a friendly face, but she sure as hell wasn't expecting this. His face beet red with anger, his whole face set in harsh lines, a vein in his forehead not pulsing, but standing out visibly in a way she'd never seen his do before. His blood pressure must be through the roof right now, Ilana thought, immediately followed by, Not helping, Ilana.
“You sold our ship,” he said. He slammed his hand on the table, startling her to the point she visibly flinched. He continued, not giving her a chance to speak, his voice rising through the decibels as he did, “You sold our ship! Jesus tā mā de jīdū, why in hell would you do that?!” He was yelling now. “Did you sell all of our shit too? How about us, did you tell your friend it came with a fully loaded crew too? God, I understand it being shitty being a captain but for fuck’s sake, you sell our home out from under us! Fantastic coping skills, really, just great.”
Ilana narrowed her eyes at Jay, feeling her first burst of real anger in many months. He wasn't entirely wrong and she knew it full well, but he wasn't entirely right either. He was being mean to try and hurt her because she'd hurt him by not consulting him. He had succeeded. He had hurt her. In doing so, however, he had royally pissed her off. The worst of it was because she had never considered Jay a subordinate, but instead her friend. Maybe that's the problem, lass, that awful voice spoke up with its lilt.
Marcus spoke, cutting her off from saying what was sure to be a statement she would eventually come to regret, "Trick with being Captain is having a crew who already want to do most of what their doing."
He took a swig of his drink. "That way, when you tell them to do something they don't like so much, they're less stubborn to the idea. I will say we short on supplies in the infirmary." He smiled at Jay, "Wasn't much need for me to keep it stocked cruising on my own."
"I have a crew just like that… Fat lot of good that did for me," she said bitterly, the alcohol intensifying her feelings.
“Ilana!” he shouted, drawing glances from the patrons nearby. “There’s no gorram infirmary! Excuse me.” He stood up, shooting Ilana a withering glance before turning his back on her and walking away.
Ilana caught sight of a girl walking across the room in their general direction. She turned her attention back to the table. They hadn't given a damn to know the rest. They didn't care that she'd saved their belongings. That she'd taken care to clean the ship, nooks, crannies, and hidey-holes, to make sure all of their things got back to them, separated into their own clearly marked containers… Except the things found in the lounge, of course. Everything. It had taken hours. But that hadn't mattered. What mattered is that she had sold their home. The home that had them stranded on this crap hole moon because she couldn't afford to the part to fix it.
"Well Cap'n you did a bang-up job here I am going to watch make sure he doesn't get hurt," Jace said, sounding angry as well, but not as angry as Jay. Of course, Jace hadn't been with her for nearing two years either. He jumped from the table and bumped into the girl Ilana had seen walking toward the table. He continued on his way without sparing her so much as a glance.
Ilana could feel her own blood pressure rising. She was reaching her boiling point. It had been a long damn while since she'd been this pissed off, and it felt a bit like welcoming home an old friend. Comfortable, normal. She'd been calm entirely too long. "What was I supposed to do?" She asked to no one in particular. Take them all out to the black in it? Let them all die on a ship that was barely limping, knowing it was dying and I didn't have the coin for the part?
"How quick they forgot we got that ship by murdering the back stabbing crew who'd had it in the first place." He whispered. "Surefoot's a clean slate." He scratched the back of his head. A little louder he added, "You COULD have waited until I got here to tell them and make the exchange Ilana, give the kids a chance to say by to the old bucket."
"Coulda, woulda, shoulda," she said.
"While the boys are washing up for dinner, why don't you give me the bare bones of this job you have in mind?" He suggested.
"Screw this. Hold that thought Marcus. Those fuckers are not gonna talk to me like that and then walk away," she said, downing her drink. She slammed the glass down on the table and burst to her feet.
The girl was walking toward the table, and getting closer. Ilana waved to her and said, "Hey, have a seat. I need to visit the loo. I'll be right back."
Her blood was boiling, and without waiting for a response, she stalked off toward the bathroom. When she got to the doors, she didn't bother announcing herself, she just burst right into the men's room, letting the door fall shut behind her.
"What was I supposed to do, Jay?" She shouted, jumping right in where they left off, voice rising as she went on. "Take you all into the black in a ship that was barely limping and let you all just die?! A ship I didn't have the coin to repair so we were either stranded on this piece of crap moon, or dead in the water! What the FUCK do you think I could have done to change this?!" By the end, she was pretty well screaming.
She shook herself a little, seeming to realize she was in the men's room in a local tavern and added in the most sickly-sweet sarcastic tone she could manage, "Oh! And since you asked so gorram nicely, your shit, including ALL of your medical supplies from the infirmary, is packed and separated and currently in a safe place ya feh feh pi goh!" She turned to walk out and muttered, "Nǐ tā mā de hěn."
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Feh Feh Pi Goh - Baboon's ass crack
Nǐ tā mā de hěn - Fuck you very much
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Post by Mira Walker on Oct 30, 2015 10:54:18 GMT -5
She walks into the Tavern, with grace. Light on her feet she begins to scan the room what in the Gui is she even doing here? She saw that this ship was looking for people and she needed a place to conduct business. She was hoping to speak with the captain, to secure herself a place on this ship with these people. She walked past the bathroom and that caused her to pause. Looking at the door a perfectly trimmed brow raised. She can hear the voices coming out loud and hot in the room. She had to no choice but to shrug it off.
She makes way to the bar and orders herself a drink "water, please." a soft sensual voice escapes her. She wrinkles her nose at the glass, she picks it up and smiles at the barkeep. She turns herself to find a place to sit and wait. By the sounds of the argument, this is the place she needed to be and the captain was in that Bathroom with a few other people. She was starting to get second thoughts for a moment and shook herself off, If she were to get work and not be a part of a planetside guild she would need to appeal to this ship and this Crew.
Finding a place near the table everyone got up from, she slides into a seat. Her shawl begins to fall off a shoulder and she pays it no mind. Watching the bathroom door waiting for whatever is going on there to subside. She sips her water, worried that this glass may get her sick. She couldn't handle that right now. She started to list things off in her head. She did that from time to time. Not often she can say things aloud. She starts to tap her foot, the bells that wrap her ankle made this small jingle. she looked down at them to give them some thought. She saw that they were looking for public relations official, she may not be able to secure anything, but she can talk her way on just about anything. Oh, she hoped that this will work out for her. she needed to get off this planet and travel. There was nothing here for her anymore, she grew tired and bored she needed a little excitement and she hoped that this
would be the way for her to get it.
She can hear Marcus ask the small girl, "While the boys are washing up for dinner, why don't you give me the bare bones of this job you have in mind?" and she still her thoughts for a moment to listen to the answer. If she can feel out the crew then she would know what to say. How to act, this is what she is best at, to conform to what is needed. She wasn't a hard girl, but could hold her own in a fight if that is what was needed. She was trained and well versed in many things. She hated to carry weapons, but she had them. Always had them she needed to, needed to keep herself safe. She continued to listen to the two of them talk while she sat there and watched the room. People coming and going, the staff cleaning tables. Cleaning putting it lightly, it was more like moving the mess over.
Steel blue eyes turn to watch the people next to her exchange dialogue. She begins to grow nervous, slightly impatient and leaves the water glass in her hand. It is quickly forgotten probably a good thing, probably should have gotten something stronger. Like they would care if she choose water or not. Eyes turning back to the bathroom, you can almost make out what they are saying in there. You know this isn't a typical "hello" they seem to be in some sort of heated argument about a ship? she shrugs it off and just...... waits...
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Gui- Hell
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Post by Jay Fuller on Oct 30, 2015 11:02:29 GMT -5
Jay didn’t notice Jace enter the restroom until he started speaking. "Easy there killer, yi qi shen hu xi! You'll wake up the whole ruttin' place breaking their latrine and sinks. Jay I realize you are furious, and frankly I am too; however, as moonbrained as this idea is Ilana does have a ship waiting for us to step onto we can be back in the black and away from all this again."
Jay listened, and nodded. “Yeah…” he snorted, “Yeah, you’re right. I just needed a minute. I mean, it’d be one thing if all this happened and she had kept us informed. It’s the fact that she didn’t even think about—“
Before he could complete his thought, Ilana burst through the door, adding even more crowd to the already tiny room. “What was I supposed to do, Jay? Take you all into the black in a ship that was barely limping and let you all just die?! A ship I didn't have the coin to repair so we were either stranded on this piece of crap moon, or dead in the water! What the FUCK do you think I could have done to change this?!" She had come in swinging and screaming, which had caught Jay off guard. Though, he realized he should have expected it – he’s known her long enough. As she screamed, his hands clenched into a fist again, this time more to calm himself than out of anger.
“Ilana, listen-“
"Oh! And since you asked so gorram nicely, your shit, including ALL of your medical supplies from the infirmary, is packed and separated and currently in a safe place ya feh feh pi goh!’
“—Hey!”
Before he could formulate any response, she had stormed out again. Jay let out a frustrated sigh, his anger returning. He looked up at the mirror, careful to avoid eye contact with his reflection, and turned away from Jace, groaning. “I hate saying it, but she has a point. Kind of.” He turned back around and flung his arms in the air. ”It’s just…was it that hard to at least talk to the crew first? Or did it even cross her mind? I probably would have been fine with ditching the ship had I at least been given the option of considering it.”
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Post by Marcus O'Terra on Oct 30, 2015 11:50:15 GMT -5
Marcus let his jaw hang while Ilana stormed off to yell into the men's bathroom. While she did, a woman had slipped into the bar and she looked every bit out of place as the Alliance stooge trying not to look obvious that he was eyeing her up. Her body moved with purpose, no wasted movement. If she didn't look like she belonged on the arm of some powerful core-broker, he'd say she was a Triad assassin playing dress up.
Actually if she was Triad she could be both, couldn't she?
In any case, she sat down right next to Marcus's table and before Ilana finished what she was yelling at the boys, Marcus smiled at the woman. He didn't say anything, just a silent acknowledgement of her being there and sitting close.
When Ilana came back, Marcus finished the beer in his mug but flipped it onto it's coaster. No sense getting a refill.
"I could bust out more psalms from the book of Shoulda-Coulda-Woulda," Marcus smiled, but it dropped, "But after a certain point, I'm just the Kettle quoting the Pot."[/b] Damn he got lyrical when he drank, something about booze on his tongue. He leaned back and rolled his shoulders. He really wanted to be back on his ship.
"So what other people are showing up to this pow-wow, Ilana?" He asked. He pulled a deck of playing cards from the fold of his worn, shot up, patched up, burnt, and faded brown duster. He let the cards slide out and began to shuffle them, pulling the cards allowing the soft rustle of the cards to fill the silence in the conversation.
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Post by Ilana Logan on Oct 30, 2015 16:23:26 GMT -5
Ilana walked away from the bathroom not feeling any better for having her words in the mens room - cringe - but not feeling any worse either. Small favors…
As she made her way through the tavern to the table, she spotted a woman sitting at the otherwise empty table next to theirs, looking entirely too damn nice to be on the rim in a backwoods tavern such as this. She looked very high class. Ilana raised a brow at her, but took up her original seat next to Marcus, feeling the effects of the alcohol. God I need another drink, she thought. Then the other side of her brain spoke up… The side with the deep brogue. No, lass. 'Another drink' is how ya ended up in tha men's room shouting at yer frien'.
She made a face and Marcus flipped his mug upside down and said. "I could bust out more psalms from the book of Shoulda-Coulda-Woulda," Marcus smiled, but his smile faded as quickly as it appeared. "But after a certain point, I'm just the Kettle quoting the Pot."[/b]
She chuckled softly at that. The things Marcus said sometimes amazed her. He was a quiet, broody sort most of the time, but she still remembered the lighter side of him. The side he was at the party at Longstreet's estate where he ended up screwing a doxy on the balcony and getting robbed for his efforts… Before that though, he was pretty damn fun to be around that night. And hell, the first time he laid eyes on her, he hit on her. She smiled, remembering that day.
"You'll have to get to know me a bit better before I answer that," Marcus said, eyebrows wiggling.
She stepped closer to him, smiling and said, "Oh, I think that could be arranged if you ask nicely."
She smiled wickedly and walked on down the hall. She heard him mutter "toupee" under his breath, clearly meaning touché.
She grinned at the thought and Marcus spoke up again, "So what other people are showing up to this pow-wow, Ilana?"
"Well, the four of us already here. You saw my bulletin, but I didn't get any outright responses. A handful of maybes. Maybe a passenger. I'm really hoping for the cook. Jay's a good cook and all, but there are times that the boy has a choice between stitching someone up and feeding the crew. And don't get me wrong, I'll go hungry so someone doesn't bleed to death, but I'd rather not have to choose if you know what I mean," She said.
She smiled again, a real smile. Despite the turn the day had taken, she was sitting here, smiling, mostly happy. She liked that about Marcus. He always had been able to make her smile. Even during a shit storm.
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Post by Mira Walker on Oct 31, 2015 1:26:58 GMT -5
Mira looks over at the table next to her, She breathes deep and blows it out. She isn't scared just needed this spot on this ship with these people. She looks over and smiles at Marcus him giving her a knowing nod, she returns it in kind.
The little firecracker Ilana being her name walked back to the table and when she smiled it light the room up. Mira smiled to herself about it. This was going to be her time to actually talk to them. She pushes her hair back over the shoulder and she turns herself, bells on her ankles jingle and she clears her throat when she hears Ilana speak.
"Well, the four of us already here. You saw my bulletin, but I didn't get any outright responses. A handful of maybes. Maybe a passenger. I'm really hoping for the cook. Jay's a good cook and all, but there are times that the boy has a choice between stitching someone up and feeding the crew. And don't get me wrong, I'll go hungry so someone doesn't bleed to death, but I'd rather not have to choose if you know what I mean,"
Leaning over to the table and starts to speak "I was hoping to speak with the captain? I saw this bulletin that you all were looking for a PR personal? I think I would be good for this job. I won't do much in the way of security and I am not looking for much in the way of pay either. I am looking for a spot on this ship so I may travel for work myself. I can help clean, cookI also will be able to help with any type of legal or Political Matters." She held her breath a bit. She needed this spot. She needed to be on this ship and she could not figure out why.
"I will help with whatever needs doing," She began speaking again. "So can I ask who the captain is, and if I may have a word?"
She leans back, sitting up straight letting her raven hair fall slightly around a shoulder. She began to play with her rings, a nervous tick she wasn't able to get away from. She wanted to look less official knowing that she looks out of place.
Not saying that she can really dress down for whatever reason. She doesn't need this job will be a means to end for her, to secure herself a place in a group that will help her as much as she will be able to help them.
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Post by Marcus O'Terra on Oct 31, 2015 18:21:14 GMT -5
Marcus had gotten a smile out of Ilana with his words, that was enough for the moment. He sat back in his seat, when the woman who'd sat down at the next table decided to lean in and show that she'd seen the advertisement; such as it was. Marcus popped a knuckle under the table. The woman had been listening, and given how she hadn't quite picked up on who was the captain yet, and it was a fair question as that very subject was under discussion.
"My name is Marcus O'Terra," He let some of the old homestead accent slip through to add some 'authenticity' to the name. "Owner of the Surefoot the vessel that's being crewed. The matter of Captain is one to be finalized," Marcus gave Ilana the out, in case she really was sick of running the show, "But unlike a military vessel or some private yacht, it's not a matter of: 'I own the ship so I'm the captain, grrr arrr.' Pardon." He coughed.
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