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    1. Korkoa 8 yrs ago

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Jason can potentially land himself alright. He'd have to bleed off the energy taken from the fall pretty quickly though, terminal velocity would build up a fairly large boom. :P
Jason sat in moderate silence as he took in the conversations being thrown round the truck. He couldn't help but chuckle at some of the antics from the Spaniard, though he did worry somewhat about the apparent nervousness of the man. It could be bad going into enemy territory with someone unprepared. Jason at least had an idea of the landscape, some knowledge of local cultures, and it's not like anything could hurt him anyway so long as he paid attention.

Looking around, Jason found himself worrying slightly about remembering all these people. He'd grown up with many faces around, but he'd seen all of those since birth, that was second nature. These strangers, their names, aliases, powers... He'd have to work hard to keep it all in his mind. Oscar/Tony; control of water. Tommy, the Englishman. 'Bel'/Meili and her twin whos' name Jason had missed; more water control and electricity. Kazia/Anna; something was strange about her voice, but no power seemed forthcoming. Lui/Sylvia; some kind of healing. A lot to take in, and that wasn't even everybody.

Jason jumped a bit, startled as the ice popsicle crashed onto the truck's floor beside him. Chuckling, he reached down to pick up a larger piece, lifting his bandana to pop it into his mouth and bite down with a refreshing and satisfying crunch. He looked up from his seat on the floor to the conversation happening above and waved slightly. "Well, now that ye all've had your turn, I suppose it's my go, eh? Jason Graves fer the purposes o' this trip. Dependin' on how far we get an' how deep undercover we hafta go, I might also by ze name of Jason Tombe," He said, slipping into a passable French accent; "Or even Johan Graben if ve enter Deutschland." He said, finishing off with a German accent. "Though if ye need to get my attention, Jason'll be jus' fine. As fer what I can do... Well it's a toughy to explain, but I s'ppose I can sum up with 'Ye try to hurt me, I hurt ye back twice as hard.'" He said with a wink barely visible through his goggles.

"Now, I heard somthin' about cards or music? I play both, what're we up to fellas?"
Roka shuddered slightly at the growing heat of barely checked emotion coming from Marr. The doctor had some kind of plan brewing, something that felt as if it were scratching a dark itch inside of him. Roka began to reconsider storming the ship, but it was too late now for second thoughts... He opened the comms to Bast, informing the boy of their plan and going over the basics of how to work the turret as he warmed up the ion canon.

Run by a few times, breach their shields. Open comms, offer a surrender. Five shots. The ion canon had five shots in his charge. It could take anywhere from five to fifteen minutes to recharge the massive batteries that powered the canon, so five shots had to do. Two to the command station, knock out their comms. One to the turret, keep them from being a threat. one to the disabled engines, just in case. One spare, in case he needed to help punch through the shields or something unforseen should happen. Dock at the airlock. Go room by room. No Death Sticks, he needed to be able to sense the occupants. Keep a close eye on the doctor.

Roka nodded as he completed his mental checklist, opening comms to Bast again. "Alright kiddo, on my mark..." He said, pushing the ship forward and allowing himself a smile as he felt the engines thrum. "Open fire!" He called after a moment, whooping as the red lasers arced through space and scattered along the blue burst of the Imps shields. Those wouldn't last long. Roka opened a frequency to the ship now, offering them a chance. "Attention Imperial science vessel, this is Captain Zal'Ebos of The Steadfast. We're going to completely disable your vessel and then board it for your pretty tech. We can go through the rigamarole of us wearing you down and hunting you inside your ship, or you can surrender! We'll leave you alive and unharmed, able to limp back to your precious Empire. Whaddaya say?"
@Lady Selune I like the sound of that timeline. It gives us time to settle, and have at least one semi normal night.
@shylarah Exactly! Using his powers he can also charge them with energy, turning them into small, but fairly potent projectiles.
Hey, sorry for my inactivity, I suddenly got very busy and then my internet died on me. Everything's settled now though, so I plan on getting a post up tomorrow!
AS the group of misfits headed for the truck, one member had trailed back a bit longer than the rest. Jason O'Grady knew that their equipment had been stowed away and they were told they'd get it back after the jump, but he still felt uncomfortable trusting someone else with his things. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his black bandana-- Silk, the last gift his sister had given him before that horrid night. He tied the comforting scrap of cloth around his neck and pulled it up over his nose, concealing half his face. Jason then made a slight detour, grabbing a handfull of bolts that were sitting atop a nearby crate. He tucked the stolen junk into his pockets and headed for the truck, hopping onto the back just as they began moving. Sighing with relief, the young man reached up and pulled his goggled down over his eyes, looking at the motley crew.

Their group was a strange mix, to be sure. Spaniard, Poles, Italian, English, Oriental. Jewish, Christian, whatever the Chinese believed in. It was a wonder to him that the group had even come together, and it'd take a miracle for them not to be caught. Then again, the miracles were there, weren't they? Each and every one of these people, himself included, were supposedly some kind of miracle. Besides, what was the alternative? Go back to the farm? Forget the Family? Mother and Emma? Crawl back to John and accept a life of growing potatoes and hating each other?

Jason allowed himself a rueful smile as he sat cross-legged on the floor of the truck. This was his best shot. Even if the odds were bad, he'd take it. "Well now, this is a fine how'dya do, innit?" He asked nobody in particular, the Irish lilt learned from his father leaking into his voice. "The lot of us, appearin' in fuck-all-nowhere, headin' fer Paris, ready to sock a Nazi in the nose? Well I'd almost say it's the start of some kinda modern day fairy tale, wouldn't you all?"
@Lady Selune I suppose in a sense we all are, aren't we? Some just a bit more than others. :P

I moved the CS over, and I'll get a post up later on today!
@Lady Selune I did know that actually, but I used the terms Gypsies and Roma because he and his sister were the only Irish in the group. However, I did add it to the Nationality for clarification! Is there anything else I should change or clear up?

And yes, if he gets captured, things will go VERY poorly for him. I think I picked the most persecuted grouping of peoples possible while still playing a white, non-Jewish character. :P
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