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11 mos ago
note to self: stop moving
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Malkan got back to the ship without much trouble despite running into a few more guards. It seemed like, without radio communications, they were at a lost as to what to do. Many were either trying to regroup elsewhere to see why communications were down while others abandoned the rooftop to find another ship that would get them off this damned planet.

She nodded back to M as she approached the ship, steering clear of Ross and Sky. From the beginning, Ross had always creeped her out, especially her fascination with prosthetics. While she did help quite a lot with designing her fake arm, Malkan never appreciated her trying to talk her into getting more prosthetics. She briefly glanced over at the two just to assess the situation and was surprised to see Skyldig passed out, though only mildly. That girl did like to go hard at times, always pushing her limit.

“Maybe you’ve put on a few pounds,” she responded drily to M with a smirk. Malkan was in a surprising good mood despite her initial reticence to the job; it was going smoothly so far… She cursed herself for thinking that at all. Generally, as soon as she thought a job was going well, shit tended to hit the fan.

As she waited for Ross’s drone to finish, Malkan sat down on a crate and pulled out a few tools from her backpack to fix her arm.
Vaclav Domonkos


Ashkevron Residence in Askavi:

Just as Vaclav thought the room had calmed down, Gen had to snarl at Mikhail about him calling Faeril a Black Widow. When he had originally heard the statement, Vaclav’s curiosity was piqued but figured it wasn’t a good time considering Fatima was trying to get everyone back on friendly terms. He couldn’t help but tense once again when the Eyrien called upon his warblade. Vaclav stood at the ready in case anything was to happen though he did not draw his own weapon. Couldn’t everyone just converse normally without tempers flying?

He relaxed a little when a woman walked in chiding Gen enough to vanish his warblade. Vaclav assumed that this was Faeril by how she was acting. Despite him being glade that she showed up when she did, he definitely though by her pallor that she shouldn’t be up right now.

As tensions grew in the room once again, Vaclav remained quiet; he did not want to provoke anyone more than they already were, especially Mikhail who seemed to be the most unstable. While he feel bad for Fatima, who tried her best to calm everyone down, he did have to agree with Lucivar. In this day and age, too many strangers in one room will result in confrontation eventually. No one trusted anyone anymore.

Artemis Fleur


Ashkevron Residence in Askavi:

Artemis added one last herb to her mix to finish it up. Though she hated intruding in someone else’s kitchen, Gen had yet to start a pot of water so she decided to boil it herself. She was putting the kettle on the stove when tension rose again as the Eyrien got angered that Mikhail had revealed Faeril’s true caste. It was different being in the room rather than off to a corner. Artemis could feel the anger rolling off in waves from Gen as he called on his warblade and as Mikhail placed his hands on his daggers in retaliation.

Not wanting to get caught in the middle, Artemis slid back to where Andressa sat to wait for the water to boil. “Not much…” she responded to Andressa. Artemis knew that the Black Widows had a wicked reputation and were distrusted by many. She had never met one as most were in hiding or working for Dorothea. Though she wanted to give Faeril the benefit of the doubt, to say that Artemis wasn’t wary would be a lie. “She needs to lay down though…” Whenever Artemis didn’t know what to do, she went back to what was natural to her, healing. Though they were on opposite sides of the room, she could tell that the woman needed more rest; her posture gave away her exhaustion.
Malkan held back a sigh as Ryteb sign off the comms to wreck whatever havoc he tended to on missions. There were some days where she wondered why she stayed with this crew. Sure she could understand everyone had different personalities but it didn’t mean she had to agree with all of them. A part of Malkan felt bad for Zephyr who was also on that deathtrap currently. She remembered flying with the yokai a few times and there’s a reason why she avoids it if at all possible.

To be fair, as reckless as Ryteb was, he did know how to create a good distraction. Mal didn’t like the job as it was, feeling that it was too rushed with not enough information. Nor did she particularly like the mention of Oblivion; she’s had enough of demons in her life time thank you very much.

When the lights came on to indicate it was time to jump, Malkan stood. She buckled her bag to her back and strapped it in tight, so it wouldn’t fly around during the jump. Malkan watched Skyldig as she jumped, admiring her confidence. This plan, if you could call it a plan, was crude at best. Not long as Skyldig made her descent, Malkan made hers. Her landing definitely wasn’t as smooth’s as her teammates, rolling forward to break her fall rather than landing on her feet.

As soon as she got her bearing, Malkan ran for cover away from the firefight Skyldig was drawing. She looked around, assessing where she was, and smiled when she spotted a control booth. While she did her best to avoid guards and crew, whenever she ran into someone, Malkan would give them a small shock to incapacitate them or lock up their gun before rushing at them. Even though she wasn’t the best at hand to hand combat, she found his method worked the best since most people relied on their firearm, so it momentarily confused them when they tried to fire at her and nothing happened.

There weren’t as many security guards as she thought there’d be as Malkan made her way over to the control booth, though that was probably because their attention was aimed at Skyldig. She heard the numerous grenades go off as she hid behind a parked airship. Malkan frowned at her right arm which now sported a large gash running up the forearm. She had not expected him to pull out a knife so quickly and had used the arm to block a blow aiming for her face.

She peaked out from where she was hiding to look over at the control booth. There were two guards posted outside who didn’t look like there were going to move any time soon. Malkan debated on what to do. She doubted she could take on both guards, especially with her hand now twitching uncontrollably from the damage. “I guess I’m going to have to use them.” She dug through her backpack for the grenades she had brought. Maybe her crewmates were rubbing off on her more than she thought. After getting her right hand to behave, Malkan pulled the pin and used it to throw the grenade close enough to the booth to get the guards’ attention but far enough that they wouldn’t see her coming. It was also in the direction that Skyldig would be approaching from if she was making her way over to this side of the roof.

Malkan waited for the guards to be far enough away before making her way to the booth. Luckily when she entered, there was only one controller in the booth. Using his surprise to her advantage, she ran towards him and slammed his face in the panel in front of him, knocking him unconscious. Mal pulled him upright again to tie him to his chair. If anyone peered in, it would look like there were still people working.

She glanced around taking the room in. Clearly this was a smaller control room so there wasn’t that much room or equipment, but that didn’t matter to her. Pulling off her googles, Malkan sat down in the other chair in the room, rolling it over to the radio transmitter. While computers could vary vastly between planets, communications generally still relied on radio waves, making them very easy to jam. Mal pulled out a small box from her bag and began attaching it to the transmitter. She let herself get immerse in the waves she could see with her eyes, discerning which waves were used for what. Once the box was properly hooked up, a screen lit. To anyone else, it simply looked like a normal colorful screen, but Malkan had programmed the box in Tekhmi’s own programming language which was a combination of ones, zeros, and colors. As she began to select and pull the channels that she wanted to jam from the air into the box, certain aspects of the evacuation process found themselves unable to communicate, namely the security forces.

As she was finishing up, Malkan received a message saying that Skyldig had cleared a path. She finished up and hid the box as best as she could in the room. Hopefully no one would notice the new equipment in the room with the added chaos that she just caused, but if anyone did all they would have to do is smash the box and all the communications problems would go away. Mal was also hoping they didn't have another system to switch to either; it's not like she had another one of these boxes. Once she was done, she made her way back to the Molotov to regroup.
Artemis Fleur


Ashkevron Residence in Askavi:

Artemis patted the empty spot next to her as she set down the mortar and pestle she was using to crush up the remaining herbs. “This isn’t anything complicated anyways so we don’t have to worry about being too exact.” She put a larger mixing pot in front of her and started adding the ingredients closet to her. “Pass me the turmeric, will you?” she pointed to a bowl containing a pumpkin orange pulp. Typically turmeric came in a root but she had mashed it so it would infuse into the tea better.

Although it looked like she was only focused on the brew she was making, Artemis kept an eye and an ear at the situation in the other room. She could feel as the power from Fatima’s grey jewel leaked out into the room like a thunderstorm brewing in the summer air. It made her a bit tense, even though she knew Fatima wanted to reprimand the boys and not her. Artemis was impressed at how Fatima handle the situation. Despite her figure and friendly demeanor, it was clear she knew how to diffuse all the boys who were trying, and failing, to be amiable to one another.

“So, did you work closely with the queen?” she asked Andressa, figuring everything in the other room would work itself out.

Vaclav Domonkos


Ashkevron Residence in Askavi:

For a moment, Vaclav was confused at who Lucivar was referring to. He certainly had no other friend in this house. However, when Mikhail spoke up, he put two and two together. Vaclav chuclked, understanding why the Eyrien had assumed they were together. It’s not like there’s many people with white hair in these parts. “He’s as much of my friend as he is yours,” added Vaclav to clarify.

Vaclav tensed as Lucivar made the declaration defending his position to leave soon. While he appreciated it, he could feel the tension grow since it was clear that Gen was adamant about keeping them here. Besides, who was this Faeril anyways. From how the brothers described it, it seemed like they cared for her but was also terrified of her. Artemis would have his head if he ever called her a harpy- not that she was a harpy in the first place.

He was about to respond when Fatima waltzed into the room, Vaclav could feel as her power filled the room, demanding silence. Since he had only been privy to her friendlier side, the anger surprised him. Honestly, he was surprised that the woman had it in her; he had pegged her for more aloof. When she turned to him, he nodded in acquiesce, feeling the command beneath her words. He wanted to argue more but something in the back of his head told him he should follow this queen and not rebuke her. Besides, he didn’t fancy trying to fight his way out now that Lucivar was on Fatima’s side.

“Well, if we’re going to be here for a while, I need more coffee.” He aimed for levity in his words, tired of all the posturing. Vaclav poured himself another cup. When he took a sip, he gagged at the acrid taste, almost spitting it out.

Vaclav Domonkos


Ashkevron Residence in Askavi:

Vaclav grasped Lucivar’s hand, firmly shaking it. “Vaclav Domonkos,” he introduced himself to the newcomer though in the corner of his eye he watched as the woman walked over to where Fatima and Artemis were sitting. “Being there is quite relative,” he started to explain. “Artemis and I lived on the outskirts of Grayhaven. Hyallians attacked the countryside, murdering those who opposed the new queen and burning the rest.” Vaclav sighed, remembering the events. “Bloody mess indeed…” Even though they barged in and caused a ruckus, he hoped that the two Dene Nehelean were able to get back to their families to escape in time.

“And no offense, I don’t see any reason for you to hold us,” Vaclav told Gen as politely as he could. He didn’t appreciate being told that he couldn’t leave, nor did he understand why they couldn’t. They honestly had already stayed longer than Vaclav had wanted to anyways and who knows when Faeril would wake up.

Artemis Fleur


Ashkevron Residence in Askavi:

Artemis turn to see two new people entering the room. She was surprised that there were more people, but the house was quite big from what she’s seen of it and she bet Faeril was quite the busy Healer when she wasn’t passed out from exhaustion. However, it was quite overwhelming to meet so many people at once. When she agreed to breakfast, she wasn’t expecting any of this. Rather she was expecting a quaint breakfast.

Regardless, she smiled at the woman that approached her and Fatima and gave a small wave. “Hello. I’m Artemis.” She briefly glanced over at Vaclav who was talking to the other person that just entered the room. When Artemis saw that everyone was still on friendly terms, she went back to crushing the herbs for the restorative brew they were making for Faeril.

Artemis Fleur


Ashkevron Residence in Askavi:

Artemis gave a little giggle at the scene between Gen and Fatima. She was glad the atmosphere of the kitchen was becoming more comfortable rather than the hostility that filled the room earlier. Though she was glad that someone had cleaned up the burnt pancake; she doubted Gen would have appreciated seeing that in his kitchen. “Thanks,” she said to the Eyrien when he pointed out the herb cabinet.

She followed Fatima over to the cabinet and was impressed at what Faeril had in stock. Despite it looking out of place in the lovely kitchen, it was well stocked with different herbs and plants. Artemis also picked out a extra herbs that she thought would be useful that Fatima didn’t grab and proceeded to join her on the blanket. When she turned to ask Fatima a question, Artemis laughed upon seeing a streak of green across her cheek. “Fatima, you’ve got a little something on your cheek there.” She pointed to the smear.

Vaclav Domonkos


Ashkevron Residence in Askavi:

“She must be a very good…healer then.” Vaclav didn’t miss the way Denar had hesitated on explaining Faeril's caste and wondered what he was hiding. “But it definitely seemed like your mother was in good hands.” He thought back to the Healer back at the inn. Despite talking to the husband most of the time while he was there, Vaclav did get a chance to observe her, thinking she was quite adept.

He poured more coffee for himself as he contemplated his response to the question. Vaclav had wanted to leave after finishing breakfast quickly but now he’s amended it to leaving after whatever brew Artemis was working on with Fatima. Once she was focused on a brew, there wasn’t much that could pull her away from it. “We’ll be leaving in a tad.” Vaclav made sure not to state where. Though everyone seemed to be on more friendly terms now, it he didn’t mean that he instantly trusted these folks. “Grayhaven was attacked and I doubt Queen Karlianne is still alive,” he stated matter-of-factly. He hoped he hadn’t ruined the cheerful atmosphere of the room, but he figured people would hear sooner or later.

"your repairs messed it up"
"no. yours did!"

whoever's captain is going to have a blast
@vietmyke like they said, if you have a concept feel free. you wouldn't be stepping on anyone's toes. it's also interesting when there's a few too many cooks in the kitchen ;)
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