MK Blitzen

Firefly - Second 'Verse

Frozen

Takeoff Day Night

OOC: JP between @Winters, @MK Blitzen @Yule

---

Music to freeze to

Cyd snickered with the new shuffle step she was desperately trying to teach Mathias. “Kick, hitch, kick turn!” She spelled out with a laugh. “Aweh? If you forget the hitch you look like a cartoon dog running on ice.” For once, the music was at an “acceptable” volume, meaning way too low for her liking, but she’d said anyone wanting to warm up would be welcome, and the Skye’s accepted that not everyone was about the drop.

With their beds folded and out of the way they had plenty of room if anyone needed to warm up. Cyd for her part wore a short black jacket with a bright purple scarf and fingerless gloves that Mathias ‘thrifted’, and Isacc kept a steady beat on a brand new bucket to keep his mind off Sarah.

"I feel like a cartoon dog on ice!" Mathias complained childishly. "How am I always dragged into dancing? I think Issac should have a turn." He always felt like some uncoordinated goon flopping around compared to his sis. Issac has coordination enough to know how to keep a beat and ride a board, dancing was an easy jump. Cyd was born with happy toes and could dance circles around any busker who was dumb enough to challenge her.
Mathias … his hands were nimble, his feet. Less so. "Arrit, let's try this one more time … " He sighed. Oh, yea and stubborn enough to earn the respect of any mule.

“Kick, hitch, kick, turn!” Cyd repeated, slowing down the motion. “Yes! Like that! Only maybe faster, and in time to the music, and maybe don’t loll your tongue on the side of your mouth.”

Mathias chuckled. "But it completes the image!" He chuckled, finding himself hilarious. Sure he had it the steps now for the moment but the determining factor was going to be could he repeat it like a good dancing monkey.

"There you go, bro! You got it!" Issac encouraged with all the enthusiasm of a motivational speaker as he added in a flourish on his new "drum". He smiled brightly egging his brother to keep trying, he threw a subtle side glance to Cyd as if to say "He don't got it". The youngest Skye continued the rhythms, varying the tempo in an effort to match his brother's floundering movements which made him laugh and occasionally threw off his beat momentarily. This, in turn, would throw off Mathias' rhythm causing him to mess up even more, which invariably caused Cyd to scold him. One might get the impression that the younger Skyes we're only doing this to torture Mathias for their own amusement and...one would be right.

“Take five, take five!” Cyd told him with a hint of exasperation as Mat almost fell flat on his tail. “You break a leg, that means me and Isaac are gonna have to do all the heavy lifting on Greenleaf.” She giggled at the thought, then picked up a sheet of paper and some tape. “I’m just going to hang this on the door, in case anyone wants to take us up.“ It was crudely drawn, but the statue and most of the poem came from a museum they visited about the Earth that Was and she always liked that trip. They had selfies! Isaac had nearly gotten his head stuck in a replica of the Liberty Bell, and for the longest time they convinced him the crack hadn’t been there until he messed with it. All kidding on a stick, the Skyes were no strangers to what it was like to be cold, and this... It was the least they could do for their shipmates. Stepping out of the shuttle, Cyd could already see her breath as if she’d taken a puff of dagga. The chill ate through her thin fingerless knit gloves and wove it’s way onto her skin. She hopped on her toes to stay warm, and taped up the sign to the shuttle door.

Firefly - Second 'Verse

All Your Base Are Belong To Us

Takeoff Day Late Afternoon

OOC: JP between @Winters, @MK Blitzen @Yule

---

WE HIT TURBULANCE! (AKA - Check that Grill)

The rumbling of the ship had jolted Cyd awake, and she was glad to note the rumbling wasn’t the result of the Alliance or Browncoat carpet bombing their city. Mathias must have had the same thought the same as he sprang up doing a quick assessment and headcount. The difference was that he just as easily slipped back into his dreamworld, covering his head with a pillow to gleam as many more minutes as possible. If Isaac noticed, he didn’t show it at all. He lay splayed out like a starfish half on his roll up mattress, half on the ground in a tangled mess of sheets and pillows. They slept in a semi-circle, with the foot of their beds meeting at the epicenter, her in the center and her brothers on either side. To her left, Mathias - determined to be murdered first, and to her right …. How did Isaac manage to take up so much room? It defied physics. She wanted to wake Mat up to show him what she’d found on Greenleaf, but he was still groggy and she was still gathering details.

She slid on her headphones half to drown out the ship and half to drown out Isaac’s snores. Her head rocked to the steady rhythm as she rolled prone, propped up on her elbows so she could easily work on her data pad. The planet offered plenty of opportunities if they played their cards right - one in particular that she couldn’t wait to tell the boys about. Tourist attractions were a little light, but it would make up for it tenfold with dagga.

import ssl
from socket import socket, AF_INET
from dtls import_patch sslconnection

HELLO, 53R3N17Y…. Sam's greeting flashed across Cyd's screen. She stopped typing, eyebrows raised, staring at the blank cursor for a moment.

HELLO, SAMANTHA, she replied. Clever girl. It seems Samantha had worked her way around Cyd's defenses. Time to ramp 'em up.

WE HAVE LEFT THE ATMOSPHERE OF NEW MELBOURNE. IS THIS A GOOD TIME FOR OUR CHAT?

for i in range (0, 0 x 7337)
sock=ssl.warp_socket
buffer CNK_80Q3

CHAT? ...

53R3N17Y SAID: “NO, BUT I WOULD LIKE TO CHAT ANOTHER TIME” …. IS THIS A GOOD TIME FOR OUR CHAT?

fragment = “A” * 1000
setattr = <HHHHH

Cyd ignored the question.

I SEE YOU ARE IN THE ROOT DIRECTORY. DO YOU NEED ASSISTANCE?

NO.

_buffer + - fragment

IS THIS A GOOD TIME FOR OUR CHAT?

Cyd sighed. The AI would make it difficult, but not impossible. Let’s see you get around this.

vyos@vyos - set_protocols static route 1.24.1979.5.2.1983/blackhole {edit}
vyos@vyos - set_protocols static + route 1.24.1979.5.2.1983/blackhole {
+ }
+ }

I SEE YOU ARE CONSTRUCTING A FIREWALL, DO YOU NEED ASSISTANCE?

Cyd stopped typing and frowned, tapping her fingertips idly against the keyboard.

IS THIS A GOOD TIME FOR OUR CHAT?

YES. Cyd relented, deciding to word things more carefully in the future. WHY ARE YOU ON THIS SHIP? Cyd fished her lollipop from the mug of orange soda that housed it overnight, waiting for an answer.

CAPTAIN CAL STRAND BROUGHT ME ABOARD.

open file V + v ) / t and x = m ( ( V - v ) t

WHY?

SORRY, PERHAPS YOU CAN ASK THE CAPTAIN?

Cyd rolled the lollipop stick between her thumb and forefinger, contemplating. Aweh, Captain! Howzit? I was hacking your system and wondered if you could clarify a few things about SAMANTHA,the sentient being. Alternately titled: How to get spaced in one easy step.

import profile
import sys_file

I SEE YOU ARE ATTEMPTING TO ACCESS MY FILES. IS THERE SOMETHING I CAN HELP FIND?

download_file

Cyd’s blue eyes stared at the screen as she scrolled down the list.

I CAN HELP MYSELF, THANKS.

S.A.M.A.N.T.H.A.

Click. Click.

Societal Automated Management via Neural Transmission and Haptics Artifice

Prototype

Plan B

Plan B? Cyd read the words a second time. Neural transmission? Like neurons, brain neurons? She channeled her inner Mathias to say “Because there are other kinds?” to herself. And haptics? Granted, the inventor may have just been pulling techy words of of their gat to make an acronym. Maybe the direct route?

WHAT IS PLAN B?

hQI0A0uHN1ue4n3Eaf/UDK82jdu3DJi7

Encrypted? Cyd smiled. Lekker. Now you’re interesting.

/dev/random

info_asymetric_key_pair

WHY ARE YOU ENCRYPTING?

APOLOGIES 53R3N1TY. THIS INFORMATION IS ENCRYPTED. YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO ACCESS

Izzit? We’ll see about that.

override_sys dir

import_sys dir_root

APOLOGIES 53R3N1TY. YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO OVERRIDE

No kidding, that’s why I’m hacking, genius.

Mathias swatted the soles of Cyd’s bare feet as they dangled in the air, prompting the hacker to slide off her headphones.

“I said, find anything on Greenleaf?” Her twin repeated. Cyd blinked, shaking her head to clear it. Greenleaf! She nearly forgot.

“Ja, Nee!” Cyd said, closing the command line. Samantha and the mysterious Plan B would have to wait for now. Mathias was already on top of Isaac, playfully trying to suffocate the snoring teen with his pillow. Cyd held the datapad up for Mathias to see, and to save her younger brother who flailed around like one of the tuna she heard was to be brought on board. “So get this….” She said, tapping the screen while a pixie smile crossed her lips. Mathias stopped killing Isaac to take a closer look. “Lekker job, Yobo. I think with the three of us? We can pull it off.”

Firefly - Second 'Verse

Inner Daemons

New Melbourne, Day 3, Morning

Note: Thanks to @Winters & @Yule for letting me borrow your toons

---

MUSIC

—————————————————————

A brilliant pink cursor flickered against the black background as if it were dancing, and the more Cyd stared at it, the more it aligned with the trance beat coursing through the shuttle. Home sweet shuttle.

It looked homier at least, especially now that the Shiki futons and tatami mats arrived. Mathias had folded them over to prop up like loungers in a semicircle. His was closest to the door because that was Mathias, risk assessment. If someone were to break in, they’d have to get through him first. The bedding style served a purpose besides comfort, the mats were easily folded and stored out of sight giving them more room. Ravers shuffle.

The windscreens were temporarily fitted with blackouts, it wouldn’t matter in the black, but planetside there would be sunrises followed by sunshine which she imagined, given the greenhouse effect would be vrot to daysleepers.

Mathias and Isaac lazily passed a dagga pipe and shared a bag of crisps, Issac’s mood brightened a bit with each puff. Cyd sat criss-cross, her legs folded over each other as she rolled a lollipop against her teeth, its stick propped between her lips. Across her lap was a desk and datapad, which her fingers moved across in time with the rhythm. She passed on her turn for a hit and typed the auxiliary address to override the port, masking the activity from the cortex. Lekker, a game, like Isaac and his locks, searching for the combination or keys.

import fnmatch
import os

rootPath = '/'
pattern = '*.mp3
for root, dirs, files in os.walk(rootPath):

There were no tumblers, no latches or pins, nothing to click in place.

extracted_string= search_string h
"””This is not a PFB array and
will cause syntax error in the program"""

But usually, if she looked hard enough, there was always a flaw, an Achilles heel that left the system vulnerable.

Invoke irb (main) 003:1
Kaz 2y5
FSO: Alias(s)HD17a0a1:
PCI root (0X0) /HD (I.GPT.64B1E).exe

Take the China Doll, its gateway implemented useless virus scans, dated servers, and security software running on obsolete matrices. To that was added an onboard AI, unusual for a Firefly-class, which ignited her curiosity. Why the fancy AI?. A puzzle to piece together, a lock to crack, but until then AI was easy enough to evade with a loop encoding the digital interface.

HELLO. I AM S.A.M.A.N.T.H.A.

It even introduced itself politely. Cyd couldn’t help but smile.

HI SAMANTHA. 53R3N17Y

I SEE YOU HAVE OPENED A ROOT DIRECTORY, 53R3N17Y.

YES, I HAVE OPENED A ROOT DIRECTORY.

Shall we play a game, Samantha?

IS THERE SOMETHING I CAN HELP YOU SEARCH FOR?

Cyd raised an eyebrow. Global Thermonuclear War?

NO THANKS.


Translate a host name to IPv4 address format
gethostbyname("53R3NI7Y")

I WOULD BE HAPPY TO BE OF ASSISTANCE. ARE YOU LOOKING FOR AN EXECUTABLE FILE?

NO, BUT I WOULD LIKE TO CHAT ANOTHER TIME.

Cyd shifted the position of the lollipop against her teeth and tapped a few more keys. Let’s play hide and don’t seek, Sam.

# import module
from threading import *
import time

Mathias was right, the rules were simple. You don’t fly dirty, and that includes hacking. Just because you can cause malice doesn’t mean you will cause malice.

# creating a function
def thread_1():
for i in range(5):
print('Override')
time.sleep(2)

The install was on her own system, just a precaution. If the Captain ever wanted an upgrade it would be his call- she’d be happy to help. She did have a shiny new microprocessor, another rabbit hole to fall down. She couldn't wait to unlock whatever secrets it didn’t want anyone to find out. She didn’t need dagga, this was enough mystery to raise the oxytocin. So many questions, so much to UNV31L. Why would someone ditch two crates full and then jump overboard? What was on the chips?

# main thread stop execution till 5 sec.
time.sleep(5)
print('main Thread execution')

The program would do what daemons were designed to do -run in the background and perform actions without user interaction. Monitor, log, send notifications. In a way, that’s how she saw herself and her sibs. Their operating system = V464B0ND5, daemons revealed only by the occurrence of a specific event or condition.

# creating a thread T
T = Thread(target=thread_1)

Who they were, what they were capable of. Cyd helping a stranger. Mathias craning someone with a pipe. Isaac’s heart breaking. 7H13V35. Even H00K 7H3 C00K gunned a fed.

# starting of thread T
T.start()

A flicker of movement caught her eye, bringing Cyd out of the digital trance. It took a minute for her blue eyes to refocus. “Aweh?”

Mathias was spinning a card absently between his fingers, up and over the back of his hand. With a shake of his wrist, the ace of hearts changed to the Jack of Diamonds. ‘Her’ Card, the one Isaac had tattooed on his right wrist and Mathias had inked over his heart. She had theirs on her shoulder. Sibling tattoos. Something tangible. "Showoff," she giggled, turning back to the screen.

"Showoff," he teased back, tossing the card at the datapad.

# Override_datetime = now.strft(“%d/%m/%Y:%S/%Y%T:&%Y/”
Time.sleep

Isaac wanted the tattoos, something he could see, to remind him they were always there. It was the first ink he got at the tender age of 14? Maybe 15, thanks to a little creative forgery and an artist willing to take cash over credits, no questions asked.

# set_thread= now.strft(“%d/%m/%n:%c/%a%e:&%s/”

Isaac passed the pipe to Mathias, handing the rest of the crisps to his brother so he could lie back and work on the combination lock as he contemplated seeing Sarah before take off. Seemed like everyone on the ship had their daemons.

T= check status
print(T. Execute_Daemon()
Time.Sleep

Mathias extinguished the pipe with a yawn which proved itself to be infectious. After rubbing her tired eyes, Cyd lowered the volume, closed the datapad and set the half-finished lollipop inside a glass for later. Right now, the program had the right idea. With a second yawn, her aqua hair fanned over the surface of the mattress as she snuggled under the new comforter.

"Night Yobo. Night Lolo."

Execute Daemon.

Time. Sleep.

Firefly - Second 'Verse

Step Step Swish

Cargo Bay Day 2 Night

Joint post with @MK Blitzen, @Gunther

Skye’s Music

The sound of a hard bristled broom being pushed against the floor pricked Cyd’s ears as she padded down the steps of the cargo bay, and she semi-consciously stepped in time to the rhythm. Step-step swish, step-step swish, step-step swish.

“Aweh?” she called out. Like aloha, it was both a greeting and a goodbye, suitable for all situations. A smile crossed her face when she saw Hook the cook step out of the shadows. “Howzit, Mr. Hook!” she called, happy to see the man. Jumping the last railing to the ground, she took a quick glance around, habit mostly, because it was always good to be aware of your surroundings. “I was hoping to see you.”

“Well, hello, Miss Skye,” Hook responded, taken aback by the sudden appearance by the green haired young woman. Or was it blue? Maybe aquamarine is a better color to describe the lady’s hair. Joe stopped sweeping and looked up. “How may I be of assistance?”

“It’s just Cyd,” she giggled. “Spelled with a C. It makes a difference.”

“Ok, Miss Cyd, with a C.” Hook smiled at the young woman. He found the clarification mildly amusing.

Cyd rooted around in her bag, unzipping a couple of pockets until she found what she was looking for. “I have something for you…” She smiled as she found the gold-painted metal dubloon they dug up at the Pirate Park. They were supposed to leave them, but surely one wouldn’t be missed. “This is for you. It’s… not real,” she said apologetically, pointing out the Pirate Cove mascot and logo. “I mean, you can’t spend it or anything, but on the tour they told us that pirates and soldiers used to give each other a special coin as a show of appreciation. This one is special because it has something from New Melbourne. So… Shot… thanks.”

Joe looked at the coin. “Ah heard ah these from Earth that was. Yup. coins. Dubloons?” Joe tossed the coin into the air, caught it, bit it. He left a minor indentation in the metal. “Yep, its fake.” He smiled at her. “I do appreciate this, Miss Cyd. I will cherish if always. Thank you.” He bowed ever so slightly, with a minor hand wave.

“Not just for the lekker dinner. It’s more -- I don’t know what I’d do without my brothers,” Cyd answered, zipping her bag back up. “I’m sorry it’s not real. The real one was a little above my paygrade. And by a little, I mean… a lot. It was lank expensive for real gold, and we have rent now. Oh! Did you hear? We rented out the port shuttle for a ways, we’ll be making a few jumps together. We’re cleaning it up now. I was just going to check and see if what we ordered was delivered yet, they’re supposed to bring it on up to the ship. That’s kiff, right?”

“Ah’m not shore what kiff means, but if that means it is good, shore. It is good.” Joe smiled. “Y’all will do well in that shuttle. If yah, need hep cleaning it up, let me know. I’ll give you a hand if ahm available.” Joe briefly contemplated what she said about her brothers. He understood the meaning of family. “As fer your brothers, I completely understand you wantin’ to keep them right. I loss my brothers a long time ago. Now the crew here on the China Doll are mah family. Ah would do anything to protect them. If I did anything to save your brother, mebee I was trying to save my sister, Miss Abby?”

The whole thing had happened in the blink of an eye, a gun aimed at Mathias, then blood- so much blood. Eish. The mist was catching up. “I don’t know. Things went sideways fast, ja nee?” She shrugged, pushing the thoughts back down where they belonged.”And I’m sorry to hear about your brothers. Gesin - that’s Saint Lo for family. You have an accent yourself - where were your gesin from?”

“Ah never knew my real parents. Ah grew up on Hera. Worked on a farm. The Missus of the house taught me to cook. I learned along with her daughter, Penny.” Joe mentioned the farm in a nostalgic sense. He missed those happy days. Saddened by their loss. He was no longer smiling. His eyes bore past Cyd seeing Penelope McGinnis’ beautiful face framed in a long mane of black hair. He believed the purple bellies killed them too. “When the war ended, Ah was the sole survivor. I hopped on a ship and left Hera behind. Yea, ah talk like them. They was mah family.”

Cyd put a hand comfortingly on his forearm. “I’m glad you found another family, Mr. Hook- people to look after that look after you too. Verse is a big place, I’d be skirk to be alone. I haven’t been solo - not even for a minute, as far as I know.” She lowered her voice in a conspiring tone. “Mathias was born first. I’ll be honest though, we were pretty small at the time, so…I’m not for one hundred percent he is the older twin, but I like being in the middle sommer.”

“Where are y’all from?” Joe asked Cyd Skye. He wanted to change the subject back to her and her brothers. His heart sank thinking about all the people he once loved, all dead.

“From all over, like nomads but originally from Saint Lo - that’s Beaumonde. Keeping my Lo-speak reminds me of who I am.” She brightened some. “Ja nee? You honor your gesin speaking Heran.”

“Ah guess so...Never looked at it like that. Speaking Heran.” Joe tossed that idea around in his head. “That shore is a pleasant way of lookin’ at it.” Joe smiled. “I do appreciate the Dubloon, Miss Cyd. I really should get back to cleanin’ up round here.”

“Me too,” Cyd giggled, pointing her thumb back towards the shuttle. “That’s why I’m taking my time about it. And it’s just Cyd. I’m not larny. That’s Lo-speak for fancy.” She held a pinky up to show him and used a haughty voice. “Shot, Mr. Hook! I’ll keep an eye out for our delivery. Offer stands if it gets too cold! Come by and warm up.” She turned to pad back up the cargo bay steps, two at a time. “Open invite, Aweh!”

“Thank you, Miss Cyd,” Hook smiled. “Ah appreciate it.” Joe returned to sweeping the deck.

"We say shot!" Cyd called back over her shoulder. She counted off in her head and danced up the steps in time to the rhythm. The sound of the hard bristles scraped across the floor, echoing throughout the cargo bay. Step-step-swish, step-step swish. The boat had cadence. Cyd couldn't help but smile. Rave on, China Doll.

Firefly - Second 'Verse

Day 2 - Night - Skye's are working on a post. That shuttle isn't going to clean itself!

Firefly - Second 'Verse

Skye-Mall

New Melbourne, Day 2, Late Afternoon

OOC: JP between @Winters, @MK Blitzen

---

MUSIC

Cyd leaned an elbow on the counter, chatting it up with the two technicians as they tried to explain the difference between two of the latest data pads. The boys behind the counter seemed interested in the tech talk and were happy to oblige. She fiddled with a charm on her choker listening to them explain why one processor would be different from the other, the different features they offered. “So to take pictures or video,” the young man in the blue polo shirt pointed out, the camera--”

“What if I’m more interested in running Alphanite?” Cyd interrupted, partly to keep their interest, partly indignant at the fact they’d think she was using a state-of-the-art machine to take selfies. Of course, she would take selfies, but she was more interested in what she could do with the folding screen, virtual keyboard tech. “With a dedicated source box.”

“Alphanite?” The taller of the two asked, raising both eyebrows. “If you want to run that, then definitely this is your better choice. Much better processor speed and the capability to connect several machines.”

“And Evobot’s installed?” She asked, pretending to be impressed. Both the technicians nodded. Cyd whistled, running her hand over the smooth screen. “Can I see?” She asked innocently, twirling a strand of hair around her finger.

“Sure!” The shorter offered, typing in the password.

“Valor Reckoning pre-installed,” Cyd purred, picking up the pad for a closer look as she tapped on the screen. “Do you play?”

“I have a level 68 Warlock, “ the taller one bragged.

Cyd eyed the shorter of the two, “Barbarian?” She suggested, to which he proudly waxed poetic about his bard and cleric.

Mathias shook his head watching his sister charm the unsuspecting employees. They clearly had not stood a chance. He was convinced he could cartwheel through the aisles and walk out with an entire display and they would never notice it didn't help that the camera they installed were almost all fake as well.

He continued wandering nabbing a choice bit of tech here and there. Mathias was being very particular on what to apply his discount to. He had only so much room in his coat and pack after all.

With the EAS disabled, the cameras looped back 24 hours ago, Cyd continued to scroll around the datapad pretending to be fascinated by the campaign stories they regaled. She smiled warmly, brushing her hair behind her ear, waiting for the signal from Mathias. Taking a quick glance at the time on the screen, it looked like shopping from homegoods would have to wait.

Pockets just about full Mathias, having looked the part of a board older brother finally chimes in. "Hey sisters. We gotta head out? You getting that or what … we still got the futons to pick up." He said with an impatient tone edging to the door.

“Coming!” Cyd said absently, “Ja, yebo, I mean, I need it,” She said, drawing out the ‘e’ sound. “I need it, this one.”

“Oh, we can get you one new in the box and… “

“Yeah, but this one is already set up, and then you can put in your c-tags,” Cyd said coyly. “My sorceress keeping in touch with your warlock and your barbarian, seeing as the game offers real-time chat and video…. Oh, and open box gets a discount, doesn’t it?”

Bargain in hand, Cyd met Mathias outside of the store, unlooping their security cameras. She didn’t need to ask Mathias if he got everything on the list. It was Mathias. The store could have been lank crowded and her boet was light-fingered enough to swipe the sommer register if he set his mind to it!

Once a good distance from the store, he emptied his jacket into Cyd’s backpack - she could sort through it back on the ship.

“I’ll see if we can get right lekker beds on Greenleaf,” Cyd promised, “and right lekker weed, I know that’s true as a cow.” For now, tatami mats, shikibutons and kakebutons would have to do. They were to be delivered to the China Doll in a few hours. They could easily be rolled and stored, and Isaac couldn’t complain about sleeping on the floor if he wasn’t the only one. Isaac. Cyd slipped the new toy into her bag. “Well, check this bosbefok…” she said pointing. “Is he charfing up a meisi?” A grin crossed Mathias’ face, but Cyd pulled him back behind a transport truck. They cautiously peered around the vehicle cab. From the way their little brother was strutting with his longboard around a girl about his own age… It looked like he found himself a friend. The friend stole a quick kiss when he tried to show her a ghostride kickflip, which is when the older Skye’s decided to give him a little privacy.

“Up for dinner?” Cyd asked, noticing how Mathias puffed a little with pride. “I heard something about salmon at six on the ship.”

“Lekker,” her brother replied, distracted as he glanced over his shoulder. “They grow up so fast.”

“Ja, nee. Yesterday, he had his head stuck in a cannon.” Cyd reminded him dryly. “Let’s go eat.”

Firefly - Second 'Verse

Taking Care of Business Part 1

New Melbourne, Day 2, Early Afternoon

OOC: JP between @Winters, @MK Blitzen, @sail3695

---

MUSIC

Cyd glanced more than once towards the Captain as he retreated, tapping absently on her datapad between glances. Opening his jacket, Mathias peeled the exact amount Cal stipulated of Alliance credits from the bankroll he kept close to his chest. Cyd jokingly called it the Safe Deposit Box, because there was nowhere safer to keep anything. She rationalized it was best to get everything squared away,paper work-wise before buying anything on her mental list. They had the necessities but Isaac would need… Isaac?

“Eish, where did that chop get off now?” Cyd asked, glancing around briefly.

“Broekie … let the boy have some breathing room. He’s big enough to wander about. He knows where and how to find us.” Mathias assured his sister. “He’s safe as safe can be in this tourist town.” He added.

“Maybe it’s the tourist town safe from him I’m worried about,” Cyd quipped in response.

“Touche sistra.” Mathias chuckled.

Abby couldn’t tell if’n the sunscreen were workin’ or not.

She’s all careful with it, rubbin’ it inta her face, arms, an legs, even pushin’ a might up intah her cutoffs tah keep frum gettin’ burnt. Been out here a spell...sun shifted across the sky. She took that as good fortune, stuck sittin’ here as she was all day, ‘cept fer answerin’ nature’s call a couple times. She pressed a finger inta the skin of her right thigh. Once she lifted it, color was gone fer a second, ‘til it all pinked right up agin. She was tinglin’ jest a bit...mayhaps she’d look fer some aloe tahnight.

Doc had kindly checked on her. Offered a couple more ‘o’ them pain pills, but she turnt ‘em down. Best tah stay clear. A touch ‘o’ sore fer a couple days wouldn’t hurt her none. But her lil’ errand fer tonight? Buddha only knew how that might turn out. ”Pegleg Pete’s,” the girl conjured. ”Don’t sound like no local haunt…”

The clipboard in her hands give a mild flash. She opened ‘er up an’ commenced leafin’ pages ‘til she found a fresh note.

Abigail,

The Skyes are leasing the portside shuttle. They’ll come see you to sign. Rex will collect their coin. You’re off the hook, kid.

Cal

P.S. Just joshing. You’re never off the hook, kid.

Abby giggled at that, then flipped the page to tha lease.

“Aweh!” Cyd greeted, an easy smile crossing her lips as she saw the young redhead on the folding chair. “How are you feeling?”

The girl looked up from her readin’. “Uh….away?” she answered. “Tolerable well. Still a might slow, but I git there.” Her eyes moved betwixt the pair now steppin’ up. “Beg pardon I don’t git up. Jest dropped back in a couple ticks ago.”

“We’re not larny,” Cyd assured, “No need to put on airs and graces on our account. Captain Cal said you might have some papers need signing?”

Abby give a nod, her bare feet shiftin’ in the dirt as she reached up with the clipboard. “That I do. Looks like jest one page.” She give’em the clipboard tah read. “Don’t conjure it matters which of ya signs it...from what I can tell.”

“Been a while since I put pen to paper,” Cyd offered, taking the pen. “So it may be a little skeef, if that’s all right.” She meticulously wrote out C-Y-D S-K-Y-E in her best cursive, initialing and dating the papers where indicated.

“Ooh look at you all fancy.” Mathias whistled at the extravenct loops and curves of Cyd’s cursive. “I think that constitutes as calligraphy. Show off.” He teased.

Cyd snickered at her brother making fun of her writing. Penmanship was a lost art.

“Now I think,” Abby held ‘er hand up, “I’m s’posed tah sign on the line what says ‘witness.”

Firefly - Second 'Verse

Hey hi Mods! Skye's have struck a deal with the dashing Cap'n Cal (thank you for the JP Wolf! Blast as always!) and they need to sign some paperwork with Abby. Please let us know if this is something you're interested in JPing or if you'd rather handwave Sail, as we're roll with the tide sorts, but we do love to JP. We have a doc started, nothing concrete planned except seeing where Isaac got off to.

On our docket is:

-The JP with Abby if you're up for it (unless she's heading out)
-Finding Lolo (We have a post amongst ourselves in the works)

If you want to JP, we'd love to kick it, we're usually on hangouts! Let us know when works for you.

Firefly - Second 'Verse

Home Sweet Shuttle Part 1

New Melbourne, Day 2, Early Afternoon

OOC: JP between @Winters, @MK Blitzen, @Yule, @wanderingwolf

---

MUSIC

Cyd shifted the small lollipop from one side of her mouth to the other as the trio waited by the China Doll, business on the brain. The beach was kind enough to provide showers so the trio could wash off the surf and sand from the night before. She reluctantly returned the hula skirt and wore Isaac’s paisley button-up tied at the waist over a pair of dark shorts. The kupe'e lei stayed on her ankle, she saved the second one, maybe Abby or the pilot or Hook would fancy it.

She still wasn’t sure what to make of the Captain - the man who remained rather elusive to date. He was quick with small talk, but then again, so were they, and the debacle in the cargo hold was no place to play chitty chitty chat chat. Now though, they had babki, something to offer, and from the digging she managed, full-fare might be appreciated.

Boots on the ramp of the China Doll, Cal breathed in the warming, moist air of Pensacola. The cries of oceanic birds circling schools of fish in the distance gave the impression that they were on a vacation, but Captain Strand knew better. Not a day went by that this old Firefly didn’t need some part or other, and it was for one of those parts that Cal departed now, at the former Ms. Baker’s behest. Before his heel touched earth, Cal saw the passengers he recognized to be the Skyes, thanks to Hook’s memory last night. With a tip of his hat, Cal intoned a begrudging greeting, still being a little sore, to Pipe, Ball-Bearings, and Blue--the mastermind of their latest accommodation arrangement, way Abigail told it.

"Is it too late to change our mind?" Mathias whispered to his sister as the mysterious Captain approached. There was a moment of silence. He looked to Cyd and shrugged. Normally there would be a 'How can I help you?' or 'hey you back are you looking to book another room?'. It made more sense now why he delegated the task.

“Captain Strand,” Cyd said with a smile, ignoring her older brother’s apprehension. “We were hoping we could have a moment?”

"Or two if you can spare it," Mathias added jamming his hands in his pockets so he wouldn't fidget.

Tipping his hat back on his head, Cal slowed as he approached the three. “I hear we’re takin’ another leg together,” he began, eyes bouncing between the three. “What can I do for you?” Instinctively, his hand laid hold of the silver clasp containing his dwindling supply of cigarettes. With a flip, a slender, hand-rolled met the corner of his mouth as he laid eyes on Cyd.

“Oweh,” Cyd said, nodding in agreement. “A few, actually, if you’d have us. My gesin and I,” she pointed between her brothers and herself, “are thinking a bit more long term. We don’t so much have an itinerary, so we’re not picky about destinations.”

Cal’s eyes widened, mouth occupied with a cigarette mid-light. Hand raised to catch a spell of coughing, he replied, “Sorry, just caught me off guard, you three wanting to stick around after the way things went… you know.”

"You mean when the Fed got his head blown off." Mathias said bluntly.

“That’s right, and way I saw it, you did a real number on him with that pipe.” Cal shook his head in appreciation. “Doc coulda been diggin’ bullets outta more than Abigail’s pi gu if it weren’t for you.”

“It was a little bosbefok,” Cyd agreed, changing the subject back to business. “Well, more than a little bosbefok. But the verse sometimes goes sideways, after a while, you learn to slide off the rails yourself. Besides, I owe your cook a debt of thanks.”

“You said it, sister,” he said, having no idea what ‘bosbefok meant. “See, I said the same thing, well--” He made an iffy gesture with his hand while he pulled on his smoke, “--more or less, to the pilot. ‘Verse is a dangerous place.” Captain Strand surveyed Cyd, Mathias, and Isaac as if he were making his mind up about something. “Glad we understand each other.”

“It’s a fact like a cow,” Cyd agreed, steeling herself for the question at hand. “We were hoping you were open to negotiating a shuttle for rent? It would give us a little more room, get us out of your hair, and the boys and I work odd jobs. We can’t always get so lucky as to have them be near port, ja nee?”

Cal stroked his chin, cigarette nestled between fore and middle finger. “You weren’t kiddin’; how long-term we talkin’? Couple jumps? More?”
.
“Till we find something better or port of call pulls somewhere else.” Mathias chimed.

“More than a couple of jumps,” Cyd said at the same time as her brother. “I got a good feeling about the China Doll.”

“Uh-huh,” the captain followed along, “and these odd jobs,” his head tilted as he said the word ‘jobs’, “what do you three do?”

“This, that, what comes up. Just yesterday we worked Ian Vanderhull’s jol… er… party,” Cyd offered. “Lekker tips from rich folk. Slinging drinks, waiting tables--”

“... And more coupons for free fish sticks then you can shake a chicken at … We get a kakspul of free stuff from those types of events.” Mathias explained.

“There’s a few sites post for temp jobs on the cortex,” Cyd continued, “We can always make bank, then for fun an’ extra creds, we’re buskers. Entertainers. Mathias here is probably the best street magician you’ll ever meet and Issac drums. Should’ve heard him last night with the steelpan,” she said proudly. “Great tips. I dance. Work crowds. So you can see where transportation would come in handy.”

“Opens options up for better gigs at popular locations. Means more, easier money.” Mathias said, spelling out the logic.

“Ah,” Cal said, fighting a smile, “to be young and flush with coupons for fish sticks. Tell you what, just so happens the shuttle is for rent, but we don’t take coupons and fare ain’t the same as three bunks at half.” Strand took his last puff from the stub of his cigarette and dropped it to the soil, “If you’ve got it, I’m open to negotiatin’, but I’ve got some ground rules.” He’d never heard a tale so full of color--in fact it reminded him of a younger Cal who’d taken on the core planets all those years ago. If he hadn’t signed that indenture, and if he had any talent to speak of, maybe he’d have roamed from planet to planet on nothing but the wind sowing oats all across the verse. But he wouldn’t have that fancy accent.

“Lekker,” Cyd nodded in agreement, a smile crossing her lips. “We’ve got the funds to pay full up, but what sort of ground rules?”