Naril

Symphonis: Three Part Sci-Fi Adventure

The idea and the pedigree of others expressing interest have piqued my curiosity in a big way. :3

All Together Now (Superhero Team RP)

I managed to break my glasses while I was out this weekend, and just now got into some emergency-backup contacts and reading glasses. Writing commencing shortly!

Resol'nare - How the Mando Boys (and Girls) Won the War [Star Wars]

Saerin Taal

Character Sheet

Name: Saerin (Rin) Taal
Species: Miraluka
Age: 36
Rank/Title: None
Role: Physical security expert / Close-quarters combatant / Chaplain
Planet of Origin/Birth: Coruscant

Appearance:

Not exactly an imposing figure, Rin stands somewhat less than galactic average in her stocking feet. Not that you would mistake or miss her in a crowd - her body language, posture, and the timbre of her voice draws the eye though she does little to actually demand the spotlight. Her olive skin has been kissed by the sun of a hundred worlds, and her hair is dark, tied behind her head in a short and ragged tail. She has large, almond-shaped eyes, the irises and pupils milky-white and blank but no less intense for that. The line of her jaw is strong, her lips full, her brows expressive, the whole lately made tight with care and the rigors of a life under fire. She has a dancer's build made of strong, lean curves, her frame quick and flexible and with the grace that only comes from decades of careful practice of martial arts. Finally, Rin has strong, long-fingered hands, marked with several small scars, quick enough to be blurs in the air when she puts her mind to it.

Rin's dress sense tends toward the simple and practical over anything else. She prefers close-fitting tank tops along with loose, comfortable pants and worn boots outside of engagements, usually in tones of blue and brown. In colder temperatures, she prefers a battered brown leather jacket, the lining thick enough to be comfortable to about freezing. She has several large scars scattered across her body, the most visible being the one that cuts through her left eyebrow and crosses her eye socket for a couple of centimeters, and the largest on the right side of her abdomen, where very few people will see it. She has no tattoos, but wears a pendant around her neck. Her ears are pierced several times, but only occasionally hold jewelry.

Skills:

Rin is, despite her stature, a phenomenon in close-quarters combat. Not through brute force, but through an utterly uncanny ability to simply be where the opponent wishes she weren't, to devastating effect. The idea that a good large person will beat a good small person is certainly no less true - but there's something spooky about Saerin. Weapons move like lightning in her hands, she flows away from blows that would crush her bones to powder, and she makes the finest gunslingers look almost sloppy in comparison. No less impressive is her ability to defeat any door lock she's ever met, walk past cameras by dancing between their fields of view (or finding their common control points to disable them), or simply spot the hidden doors guards might use and follow one of them inside. She isn't a slicer - that's a different discipline - but she can walk through a building like a ghost, implanting remote-connection points to get slicers a point of access behind firewalls or to otherwise air-gapped security control points. Though few take advantage of the fact, Rin seems to be, or at least was, deeply religious, though perhaps not to any particular religion. Her knowledge of temples, prayer, rites for the living and dead, and any number of other pieces of mysticism seems to be entirely bottomless.

- Combat Training - Rin will work very hard to close the distance to anyone she actually has to fight and engage up-close, handheld blaster-pistol distance being the furthest she prefers.
- Intrusion - You won't know she was there, until you do, and at that point it's too late.
- Mystic - Rin isn't the squad's counselor or soother of wounded souls, but sometimes there are words to say, and those words are prayers. Or the words of a code, credo, or scripture - if someone needs them, Rin probably has them.
- Polyglot - Rin speaks half a dozen languages, including Mando'a.

Equipment:

- Very pointedly not a suit of Mandalorian armor. No breastplate, no gauntlets, no helmet. She does have that battered leather jacket, though.
- Extending shock-stick; collapses to about 20cm and extends to a full meter.
- RSKF-44 blaster pistol, typically in thigh holster
- Collection of lock-bypass, cable-splice, and other small hand tools in tight leather roll
- Collection of wireless interface ports for remote computer system access
- A leather satchel with "personal effects." Some of these are books. One is an apparently-seamless metal box about 30x8x8cm, elaborately engraved with a design that seems to, but never quite does, repeat. It is not a book.

History:

"I'm not wearing that," Rin said.

She dropped the helmet on Resol's desk, a hollow bass thump filling the small room for a moment. She shoved it across the desktop towards the older man, the edge of the helmet leaving a fresh scrape in the scarred hardwood. Resol, for his part, remained impassive, but this was not getting off on the best foot.

"This is a unit of Mand-" he began.

"This is a unit of Alliance soldiers," Rin cut in, "You're the one making them into toy Mandalorians."

Resol took a moment, a slow breath. "You will allow me to speak." His words concealed a smouldering volcano.

Rin opened her mouth, a retort ready and acid on the tip of her tongue. Something dark and unpleasant flickered behind her eyes, and she paused. With care, she blew out the breath she'd pulled in, and relaxed her shoulders. She flexed her fingers, took another long, slow breath and, at length, nodded.

"Miss Taal," Resol began again, "My unit is one that follows Mandalorian culture and tradition. My culture and tradition. I have taught them in the ways of my people. They fight, they win. They speak the words, they wear the armor. They are my brothers, my clan, my people. Do you understand?"

Rin chose her words carefully, and settled on a pair. "I do.""

Resol watched Rin with equal care, and nodded.

"I've had my little collection of misfits for some time," he said, "And now, you. A mystery. A troublesome mystery, if your transfer papers are any indication." He picked up a datapad, "Bounced to three different commands in six months, with spells in four different brigs. Exceptionally skilled, but nobody seems to want you around after a couple of weeks. In fact, it is my understanding that your choices were this posting or prison." The ghost of a smile pulled at his lips, "Which isn't exactly an uncommon story around here.""

"The question, becomes, then," Resol continued, "Why you're here at all. Why not disappear to Nar Shadaa or Jakku?"

"I serve the Republic," Rin said, "The Alliance means well - given time and the chance, they may even succeed. But right now, they're walking in circles. You...aren't."

Resol scrolled through the datapad, his eyes flicking to the woman in front of him between the scant few paragraphs. After a moment, he tossed it on the table where it bounced against the helmet. There was nothing useful on it.

"Who are you, Saerin Taal?" He said, after a moment.

"Do you ask all of your transfers that?" Rin replied.

A grin tugged at one side of Resol's mouth, "Only the ones I might trust my life to."

"Mmn," Rin said, more acknowledgement than anything that might be called agreement.

"I was educated on Coruscant," she said, after a long pause, "A rather small field. My parents design starships, my sister is...a sort of academic. All of us are running from the Empire; we're all fighting in our own ways."

Resol waited for a moment, then sighed, "That's it?"

"I'm saving the rest for my autobiography," Rin said, "The chapter about group sex should make it fly off the shelves. I'll be rich."

"And you don't care for Mandalorians." At this point, Resol knew better than to ask.

Rin regarded the older man, her expression level and distant. "Personal experience."

"This unit functions a certain way, Miss Taal," Resol said, "Regardless of your feelings."

"The Resol'nare," Rin interjected, and looked at Resol cooly, "And don't think I haven't noticed. I know the Six Actions, you won't need to worry about babysitting."

"We speak the language. We wear the armor," the older man said, and put his hand on the helmet, "Do you plan to walk into battle all but naked?"

"Verd ori'shya beskar'gam," Rin said, the words made almost seamless by her liquid accent, "I am here to fight, Resol. I'm here to fight for something I love, and something I believe in. I'll follow your orders, if they aren't completely insane. If restoring the Republic means standing with you, then I will do so with my last breath. I'll speak the language. I will teach and learn. But I won't wear that armor."

"You must have something," Resol said, "Aruetii or no, death is hard. Yours will do nothing for my squad."

Rin looked down at the pile of armor on the table, dull grey with red accents, no two plates quite alike. She wondered who it had belonged to before, and chose not to look too deeply into that question. Instead, she focused her attention on what it contained - not the fabric or the circuitry or the pressure seals, but what the armor was made from. The intention of its maker, long lost to history, the purpose of its many owners. There were secrets, mistakes, regrets, woven into the armor's very quintessence - and there was something else.

Moving with care, Rin unhooked the curved armor plate from the suit's left shoulder, scarred and burned from a hundred misadventures. She held it in her upturned palm, closed her eyes, and focused her mind.

In her hand, the plate crumbled, slowly at first, but with every second it fell apart into fine, dark grains. They cascaded across Rin's palm, flowing like fine sand, and fell to the floor with a quiet hiss. Rin's head tilted slightly to one side, then the other, a look of intense, almost serene concentration on her face. At length, she was left with a handful of black grit, a bead of sweat trickling from her hairline and down one side of her cheek. With her free hand, she fished around in the pile, and extracted something beautiful.

She held a piece of what could only be called jewelry, fine arcs and whorls describing something both abstract and definite, every part connected to every other. She shook the grit out of the piece and thumped it against her hand, and fine though it was, nothing shifted out of place. In the light, it gleamed with a familiar matte-silver color.

"Beskar," Rin said. She tugged a fine chain from around her neck, and busied herself with threading the pendant onto it.

The pair watched one another in ferocious silence, the only sound in the room coming from the pile of black grit settling against itself. The quiet was not the kind that begged to be filled with words, because there were none. This was the kind where truth devoured words, where they would be unwelcome. In that stretched, taut-wire moment, understanding spread across two different people. And, at last, Resol was the one to tilt his head first in an infinitesimal nod.

"We leave in the morning," He said.

All Together Now (Superhero Team RP)

Well, I'm heading to a retreat this weekend, but I'll see about writing another post to move the warehouse along while I'm out there. :3

All Together Now (Superhero Team RP)

So, what comes next? :3 Are we waiting on our dear GM for a plot-flavored post, or should we keep makin' stuff up while we go along?

All Together Now (Superhero Team RP)

There was a giant death robot in the warehouse.

The emergency-services perimeter was still being assembled, and from the frantic sound of voices crossing through radios, there would be at least a few more minutes before anyone made a concerted effort to approach the warehouse. After all, the place had exploded, and might explode again - that plume of smoke was impressive, and who knows what else might be stored here? The professionals, with all due haste but also all due good sense, would probably not be hurrying to send people in. These happy thoughts flickered through Indira's mind when she stepped over what had once been the warehouse's door frame and into the gloomy, smoke-blackened interior. After that, the giant death robot had her rather preoccupied.

Although the machine bristled with weapons and its armored carapace seemed all but untouched by the blast, dangling hydraulic hoses and one leg missing from the shin down suggested that though it was impressive, it also wasn't finished. The missing leg, in fact, lay across several worktables to one side, leaving the whole machine to be supported by massive chains leading to support beams high overhead. With an effort, Indy pulled her attention away and took in the rest of the building, her eyes adjusting slowly to the semi-darkness. She made her way into the building with careful steps, both to keep quiet and to avoid disturbing anything that looked like it might become evidence.

She took a step further into the place, and the lights went out. There weren't that many left intact after the explosion to begin with, but she hadn't expected the sudden drop into near-total darkness. Another step and her foot brushed against something while she dug in her jacket for her penlight, and she knelt to take a closer look. A moment later, she stuck the light between her teeth and reached down, suddenly unconcerned about fingerprints.

"What the hell...?" Indy muttered to herself.

She scooped up a rounded, three-lobed object a little smaller than her palm, each lobe connected to a central body. She turned it upside down and ran a finger across the underside of each protrusion, face setting into an expression of deep concern.

Rustling and the sound of footsteps disturbed the quiet behind her. Indy sprang back to her feet and spun toward the noise, spring-coiled muscles pivoting and setting her weight in the skin of a second. She brought her free hand up into a ready position, fingers curled. Power surged in her body, and a cupped barrier field formed in the air half a meter in front of her. An instant later it flared into brilliance, a sudden spotlight lancing out where she thought the sound had come from.

-------------------
No one. Jake couldn’t tell if there was a single person inside this building as the whole room was dark except for a few stray lights. That wasn’t the strangest thing though. Large and odd machinery lay strewn across the entire building. He had no idea what any of it could be for but the inclusion of weaponry was fairly unsettling.

Slowly Jake made his way to what seemed to be the direction of the blast. Quietly he followed scorch marks eventually locating what he thought was some computer-esque object, but with the low lighting and the device being mostly destroyed he couldn’t really tell whether it was an accident or not.

The young cop wanna be couldn’t investigate any further as the lights decided to go out completely. ”Well, that’s just great.” Jake began digging though his backpack for some sort of light when he heard a very faint noise. Not really thinking, Jake began heading in the direction not concerned about keeping quiet. However, before he could reach his destination a bright light shone upon him causing Jake to reel back from the sudden glow.

------------------

Indira relaxed her hand, the light vanishing and leaving only her penlight on. She reached up and pulled it from between her teeth, keeping it pointed at the young man, but not directly.

"Right," she said, "Which one are you, then?"

Jake looked at the woman in front of him uncertain of what to say. He knew that New York had a lot of ‘supers’ but he hadn’t really planned on encountering one. Not knowing what to say he picked a random thing on the top of his mind to call himself for now, I don’t really have a name to give you. Just call me Rhoman, I guess. What am I to call you?”

One dark eyebrow rose over an eye, taking a second to look the young man over.

"Mmn. I admit that I don't recall hearing that name. New in town? That’s not important, I suppose." She waved the hand with the penlight, dismissing the thought.

"My name is Indira. Or Miss Bhatia, if you like. If you call me Tensor to my face, I may get irritated." The last came with the ghost of a smirk, "We don't all make good decisions under pressure."

She looked up and down the warehouse and sighed, "We aren't going to have much time, I think. Once the smoke clears, they'll start sending someone in to take a look around, and I’m certain I'd rather not have to explain myself to the bomb squad while standing in the middle of an explosion. But take a look at this-" She held the device she'd picked up off the ground up, flashing the penlight over it.

"I designed this. Well," she said hurriedly, "Not..this exactly. But these repulsor pads, this arrangement - what I built was supposed to be a camera drone for..." her voice trailed off, "...a client. This looks like my drone, but I'm pretty sure this center area here, you see? That looks like something explosive." She bobbled the thing in her hands, the repulsor pads clicking against the central body.

"I don't know what's going on here, but..." Noises came from outside, the sound of diesel power coming closer, "What have you seen in here? Where did you come in from, anyway?"

”Well, I walked through the walls. The only thing I’ve seen is the obvious machinery and I did locate a possible source of the blast. It was some sort of computer like device. I can’t be too sure though as the whole thing was mostly reduced to ash.”

From where he stood, Jake did a quick glance over the rest of the building as well as he could. Nothing that seemed to stick out. ”Do you have an idea of where this client could be right now? If we could find them then we might be able to figure out how that got here. I don’t think exiting through the door would be a good idea. I can phase you though the wall if you need me to.”

"Through the walls, hm?" Indy said, “That will be new.”

She regarded the drone in her hand, "Mmn. I don't usually keep track of my clients once I've finished something for them. Then again, I also try not to design flying, explosive, autonomous grenades."

Indy opened her mouth to say something else, but at the same moment, her jacket chirped. She tossed the penlight out of her hand and a pair of gently-glowing rings appeared, suspending the light midair. With her newly free hand, she reached into her jacket and pulled out her phone, taking a look at the screen. Her eyes widened.

"Someone just attacked the Mayor's fundraiser," she said, speaking quickly, her eyes flicking over her screen, "Soldiers with artificial enhancements, advanced weapons..." She lowered the phone and looked around.

"Start taking pictures," Indy said, "We have to get this documented."

She snatched the penlight out of the air, then kept her arm raised, fingers curling. Another brilliant light appeared a couple of meters overhead and bathed the warehouse in bright, even illumination. In the light, Indy saw another set of worktables, and even through the soot, she could see careful rows of transparent cases holding artificial limbs, eyes, and what looked suspiciously like some kind of neural interface equipment.

"That's...not good," she said.

Her phone, wrapped in its own field, hung in the air to her side. It slowly spun in place, taking in a panorama, the interface cheerful and bright with helpful tips. Indira's eyes flicked around the warehouse, her posture growing tense. Outside, there was the sound of tires on gravel, followed by the sound of muffled and distant voices.

"We should get...out...of..." Indy's voice trailed off at the sound of a heavy thunk and the sound of something slowly rising through pitches, like a turbine starting up.

She turned and looked behind her. The hulking machine, once dormant, now had bright illuminated accents, each glowing a baleful scarlet. While she watched, the thing came to life and balanced itself on its intact leg, the chains above going slack. It made a noise like a ship's horn in Hell, and parts of it began to articulate, exposing what could only be weapons, including something with a barrel the size of an oil drum that glowed with burning crimson light. Which, naturally, it turned to point at the warehouse's only other occupants.

Indira swallowed, but there really wasn't a choice here. Super-science, exploding drones, and killer robots weren't what the authorities were equipped to handle. If she left, there would be normal people paying that price. Not that she actually knew how to fight something that looked like it belonged in a science fiction movie, but if there was one thing the superhero life had shown her it was that there really was a first time for everything. She dropped the drone she'd been holding, grabbed her phone out of the air, and flicked at it with her thumb. Li should know what was going on.

About to fight a giant death robot, she thumbed, Stay safe. Love you.

Indy tucked the phone into her jacket again, straightened her spine and squared her shoulders.

"Hey," she said, looking at the young man. A grin spread across her face, fierce and wide, "Feel like fighting bad guys?"

All Together Now (Superhero Team RP)

@alexfangtalon - I don't mean to be overbearing, but I'm thinking about logistics!

I'm thinking that after Jake's opening post, we can bother our GM for some information about what's going on at the warehouse to react to, and do a collaborative post together. Sound like a plan? :3

All Together Now (Superhero Team RP)

There was a noise in the air, a sound that grated against her ear, slithered into her brain, and rasped away at the comforting coccoon of sleep like a water running over soft sand. With little grace and almost no dignity, Indy clawed her way back to consciousness, an atavistic part of her protesting the whole time. Awake, and with a headache that seemed on the cusp of bursting out of her skull, Indy couldn't help but notice that the world seemed to be rocking gently from side to side, every movement accompanied by a quiet slap of water against wood. A moment later, when recent memory joined the flood of awakening sensations, Indy could do nothing but lay back and wonder if this had been a good idea.

She groaned, a whole lungful of sound. Moment by moment, realizations and certainties slid into place. This wasn't her bed, but she reached out for the battered clock radio and jammed her thumb its alarm-off button without even opening her eyes. There were scents on the pillowcase that were intensely, blushingly familiar, stirring the quiet parts of her brain. She guessed that the pillow itself had, at least, been replaced sometime in the last year - a small blessing. She made to roll over and suppressed a yelp, tingles crackling up her arm where she'd crooked it under her head all night.

With care, Indy wriggled and straightened her arm out, using her free hand to rub blood back into it. The tingling faded, and she opened her eyes at last. The ceiling above still had the same water stain, the walls were still the dark wood panels they had always been and probably would always be. Sunlight glowed behind a gauzy curtain, bathing the room in gentle light. She was alone, but there were smells floating down the short hallway. Indy scrubbed the sleep out of her eyes and sighed, then flicked the covers off herself with a rustle of fabric.

"Morning, beautiful," came a voice from another room, the edges of the words rounded by a Canontese accent.

"Not in the mood, Li," Indy said, her voice crackling. She swung her legs off the bed and sat up before immediately leaning over, elbows on her knees.

"Oh, gods." She held her head in her hands and tried to shove the headache back inside her skull, before looking down at herself.

"Mmnf," she managed after a moment, "Li, where are my clothes?"

"Hanging in the closet," Li said, "You slept through the dryer going off? You really must have been worn out." Li's voice turned playful, "Then again, I suppose I shouldn't be surprised."

With a wordless mumble, Indy managed to shove herself to her feet and shuffle across the old but still soft, memory guiding her more than anything else. She dressed, and if she was pulling on yesterday's outfit, at least everything was clean and, to her immense surprise, folded and pressed.

"You can take the woman out of the laundry," Li said, "But you can't...oh, whatever. Come on, breakfast is ready."

Unsteady steps brought Indira from the bedroom - small and close but cozy for all of that - to the tiny kitchen, an alcove to one side holding a table that was just barely large enough for two plates and round bamboo baskets clustered tight with small steamed bao. She ran her hand along the familiar wall, fingers bouncing against the old wood paneling in the same way she remembered. Carefully, she lowered herself into the chair closest to the window, the one where the old window-mounted air conditioner blew the coldest. Indy raised one hand, rubbed her eyes again, and let out a long, jaw-popping yawn.

"Can you believe we used to fit on that bed?" Li said, plopping down in the chair opposite. "Go on, eat. You're useless without something in your stomach." Without ceremony, she picked up a pair of bright red lacquired chopsticks and snatched a bun, popping it in her mouth with a sigh of pleasure.

Indira felt like moving her arm took much more effort than usual, but by the time she'd even thought up a complaint, muscle memory took over. She scooped up a small plate - something that Li, apparently, had no use for - and used another pair of red chopsticks to lift a trio of small buns onto it. Li watched with evident amusement, but let Indy finish chewing before she spoke again.

"So," Li said, "About last night, hm?"

Indy swallowed and looked over, "You're rather casual about this," she said.

"Life is made to take lightly," Li replied, "And you don't have to explain yourself to me, if you don't want to."

Indy put another bun in her mouth and chewed slowly, thoughts sluicing past one another in her mind.

"Tell me what you think happened," she said, carefully.

Li tossed another bun into her mouth, a grin spreading across her lips, "I saw you overpower five men with automatic rifles, dressed in a tweed jacket with elbow patches," she pointed her chopsticks at Indy, "Not someone who looks like you, not someone hiding in shadows, I saw you. Really good lighting around here, you know? And you were doing it using magic or some kind of space technology or some fucking thing."

"Not exactly a journalistic description," Indy said with a smirk.

"Yeah," she said, "That's what happens when you get fired. Oh, and then there was the part where you took a grenade to the chest and lived."

"It didn't actually hit me," Indy began, but then Li jumped out of her chair and pointed with the chopsticks, triumphant.

"Ha!" she said, "I knew it! So which one are you? Wait, no, forget about that - is that why we broke up? You said that was about your Ph.D program." One side of her mouth quirked into a lopsided grin.

"Li, I..." Indy trailed off, then sighed, "No, that was really the truth. I promise."

"Mm-hmmn," Li said, her voice half-dubious, "Not gonna say?"

"Look, this is kind of new, okay?" Indy said, "I-"

The boat rocked again, this time with heavier motion, enough to rattle the cups and saucers together on the table between them. Indy and Li both stood, Li with another bun in her chopsticks. The room's small window afforded a view further down the coastline, toward the port, and they both saw the column of thick, dark smoke pouring into the sky. The air was already filling with the wails of emergency responders, and they could both see flashing lights making their way through the service and frontage roads toward a warehouse district.

"You gotta go?" Li said, tossing the bun in her mouth.

Indy looked pained, and turned toward the other woman. She opened her mouth, but Li spoke first, around a mouthful of bun.

"Mm-mn." She swallowed, "I get how this relationship is gonna be. Go on." She waved a dismissal with her chopsticks.

"Wait, what time is...oh, no," Indy looked down at her watch, then back at the rising column of smoke, "I can't. I have a class at 11:00."

"Simple or advanced?" Li said, finally setting her chopsticks down.

Indy looked nonplussed, "It's a 201, why?"

Li just shook her head, "Lecture or a lab?"

"Lecture, but why-" Indy began.

"Not a problem," Li said and she stepped forward, reached into Indira's jacket in a way that could only be considered intimate, and pulled out her university ID badge. "I can fake a lecture. You think the faculty is really going to know the difference between one short brown woman and another? Besides, sometimes it's nice to get stared at by teenagers." She smirked, lips curving wickedly, "I'm charging you a kiss, though. A good, long one. But later."

"There might be a lab course if I'm not back by this afternoon," Indy said, her voice careful.

Li chuckled, low in her throat, "Mmn. Then it's not going to just be a kiss," she said.

All Together Now (Superhero Team RP)

Out of curiosity, what city is "the city" in this case? I just realized I've been acting like it's "probably New York," since our GM's character is an NYU student, hah.

All Together Now (Superhero Team RP)

I'll be writing this evening. I...have an idea.