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Recent Statuses

5 mos ago
Current Achmed the Snake
1 like
9 mos ago
It's kind of insane to me that people ever met without dating apps. It is just so inefficient.
2 likes
11 mos ago
One, polyamory is notoriously difficult to administer
4 likes
11 mos ago
I'm guessing it immediately failed because everyone's computer broke/work got busy/grand parents died
9 likes
1 yr ago
In short: no don't use basic acrylics.
2 likes

Bio

Early 30's. I know just enough about everything to be dangerous.

Most Recent Posts

@Sophrus When thinks get really bad who does he go to. It dosen't need to be a demon but I suppose it can be. If vampires were burning down your apartment block right now who would be on your speed dial.
Alright! A few final questions. You can loop other characters into these but only if they agree.

@POOHEAD189 - Someone broke an important promise to Caber. Who is it and what was the promise?

@Hour Error - Vera is involved in some sort of scheme at the moment. What is it and how is it likely to blow up in everyone's face?

@Sophrus - Who does Thaum run to when he gets in over his head?

@Fetzen - You recently witnessed something strange, unexplained and dangerous. What is it and why are you keeping it a secret?
Woods took a step forward her full lips tugging into a grin as she beheld her audience. It must have seemed like quite a group. A massive Hex being held back from extracting blood vengeance, an eeriely calm cyborg, a pilot who was sassing the most dangerous man on the ship, a girl barely out of here teens and a mercenary captain who had officially been charged with murdering five Terran commandos.

She cleared her throat and touched the hologram with a fingertip. The map expanded to twice its original size. The hologram was so clear and perfect that Junebug thought she could see the oceans slowly moving in their tidal flows. Terran holographic tech, like everything else, was state of the art. The world had three continents one of which was a polar plate. Two red dots blinked in steady rythym.

“This,” she said in a clear melodious voice, “is Site Alpha.” Images, some from satellite, some from helmet cams populated in the air. It seemed to Junebug like they came from another lifetime but she recognised the lush tropical jungle of Saavran. There were other pictures, clearly taken after the fact with professional imaging equipment, showed a devastated forest and a vast, vaguely anthropomorphic ridgeline. Junebug shuddered, she had worked hard to put the strange golem thing that Neil had stopped from waking up out of her mind.

“Even after three years of research we haven’t made much headway into understanding what happened,” Woods explained.

“The original caverns you penetrated appear to have vanished. Sonar and other remote sensing gear suggests that the ‘guardian’ as we are terming it is a solid undifferentiated mass,” Woods explained. Junebug’s lips compressed into a frown.

“We saw it move though it cant be solid,” she objected. Woods nodded at his.

“Yes we did, current theory from the experts is that it is some kind of super fluid solid that can harden itself when inactive. Whatever control chamber you penetrated must have been subsumed.” Taya leaned forward clearly rapt to be learning about an adventure that had occured before she had joined the crew.

“Which brings us to Site Beta,” Woods went on. The image rotated to bring up a red dot on the polar plate. More images appeared of strange cyclopean architecture thrusting up out of a sheet of perma frost.

“It only became active after you fucked up Alpha, and so far we haven't been able to get so much as a sensor drone within half a kilometer of the edge of it.”
"There are people who would take me in," Calliope responded around a mouthful of jerky.

"I could trade on my knowledge of these seas, my connections in Calaverde or my... charms, at least for a while." Many former rulers did do just so when they were deposed or driven into exile. It was a comfortable enough existence at first, at least for a time. In the end though they became more expensive than they were worth, or merely hostages for their hosts to hold over the rulers of other cities. Don't press too hard or we will support a coup by the old ruler. Calliope had no desire to be a hostage, nor did she want to settle for the comfortable life of an exile. Her dark eyes narrowed into slits glinting with suppressed ambition and malice for Sebastian and his cronies.

"But I don't think I will, I intend to make myself such a plague upon these seas that Calaverde and all the other cities will wish that I had never had to leave my comfortable palace."

Combined with the state she had left the treasury in, she was willing to bet that she could have the mob baying for Sebastian Del Mondas blood within a year. They would beg her to return to her rightful place. She realised after the fact that she had trailed into silence while she had been contemplating her revenge her beautiful face had been momentarily transformed by her lust for power and revenge. She coughed to break the silence.

"As for the captaincy," she made a dismissive guesture.

"I know which rope is which, I spent enough time on them as a girl... my father... well never mind. The point is I am not enough of a sailor to be a captain. Much as I enjoy giving orders..."
“Stormsrest,” Calliope said taking a swig of the whiskey to dissolve the almost leathery jerky in her mouth. The pennant snapped above them and she glanced up at the flag to gauge the direction of the wind. It was a fair wind for it and it was probably the best place to pick up a crew. With only the two of them, it would be a poor idea to stop at the lawless pirate coves as killing them and taking the ship would be much more appealing than signing on. Of course that might mean dealing with Rodrick. The SeaLord had been an associate of sorts during her rise to power, they had been lovers for a while but it handn’t ended well. Perhaps they would be able to avoid dealing with him, afterall a busy trading center like Stormsrest had many ships arriving and they would certainly out run the news of Sebastian’s rebellion. Blackmoor hated Sebastian she recalled which at least was something.

“Well we have no charts,” Calliope agreed eyeing her companion speculatively. Navigation at sea was a tricky business even over such short distances. Unlike Calaverde Stormsrest didn’t have the same kind of impressive terrain that could be seen for miles when the sea was calm.

“I think before we go any further we should talk though,” she said passing the whiskey back.

“You came to my city to steal a ship, should I assume that you want to turn pirate then?” she asked bluntly.
“Nobody ever feels bad fucking over the Terrans,” York said as he strode through the hatch.

“And why should they, we are afterall the only faction trying to bring peace to a fractured galaxy, the only group with the resources and vision to usher in a… oh whatever,” he said growing tired of the boilerplate speech and waving a dismissive hand.

“Still I really wouldn’t advise it, our intelligence suggests that the beta site is quite deadly enough without trying to play games.” He took a seat at a console and bought it live, projecting an omni directional view that showed a three dimensional map of Saavran.

“And of course if you did decide to betray us we would have to kill you,” he said apologetically. York held up his palms in a placating gesture.

“It's not personal of course, just policy. Besides I want us to be friends.” The smile on his lips was so oily and insincere it had to be deliberate.

“As a sign of my good faith..” as though on cue the door opened again and Saxon, still in electro binders was marched in. Two marines followed him armed with active shock rods thought this was clearly a precaution rather than an attempt to prod the Hex along. Another marine a stunning woman with short blonde hair and Lieutenants pips stepped through after them. She wore a suit of light weight combat armor that covered her chest and legs but left her arms bare to reveal a variety of Terran Marine Corp tattoos as well as some less familiar designs.

“I am releasing your friend, or your associate or whatever it is you call him. I am certain he bears you no ill will, even though you did shoot him with that shock gun,” York said with a prosaic smile. Saxon turned and glared daggers at Neil.

“Before I do so however I should advise him that as I need Mr Edwards alive, I took the liberty of installing certain guarantees while you were unconscious. I would advise you not to test them.” The blonde Marine Lieutenant steeped in front of the Hex and disengaged the binders with seeming unconcern. Across the back of her armor was stenciled the name ‘Woods’.

“I’ll give you a moment to get reacquainted before the Lieutenant here takes over the briefing,” York said as the door opened and Sven entered, EMP binders were attached to his wrist but not currently active meaning he could move freely.

The Weather Witch settled onto a broad reach, heeling over as the wind drove her on a steadily north easterly course. The sorcerous wind had faded, though whether that was because the spell had faded, or the source was blocked by the high walls of the fortress harbour was impossible to ascertain. It certainly felt good to be running clean under a clear sky and a warm breeze. Calliope wanted to get below and study the book further. Having used it, having gotten an inkling of the power it could convey, having formed a better understanding of what it really meant she was eager to delve deeper but now was not the time.

As a ruler she had learned that despite the fact that it seemed there were a million more important things to be attending to, sometimes you just had to stand somewhere and be seen. In this case she had to hold the wheel while Markus adjusted the rigging to best catch the wind. There was no real risk of pursuit. Between the chaos of the coup and the wrecked guardship in the main channel, it was unlikely anything larger than a fishing smack would be sail from Calaverde any time soon.

“Ah dinner is served I see,” she said as Markus arrived with a few handfuls of beef jerkey and a bottle of rum. She took a rope and secured the wheel so that the course wouldn’t deviate. It was going to be a brutal voyage where sleep would have to be taken in snatches when the winds were calm. Any change whatsoever would send both of them scrambling to adjust the sails. If a storm came up, they were doomed, if they got unlucky, they might drown under clear skies.

“You known last night I had roasted quail with currant sauce and the finest white wine and that was just the first course,” she laughed, taken a piece of cured meat and tearing it with her teeth.

“Well, easy come easy go I suppose,” she joked though it sounded a bit flat to her own ears.

“Our first problem is that we need a destination, it needs to be somewhere close and we need to find a crew.” She looked back over her shoulder although Calaverde had already vanished over the horizion.

“The quicker the better, before word about what happened gets out. Do you have any ideas?”


@POOHEAD189
The magic swirled in her mind in an unpredictable maelstrom, she struggled to hold onto the strands of power, certain that if they slipped away the best she could hope for was a sudden and violent death. The Codex had come into her possession when she had murdered the previous Tyrant and taken control of the city. The spells in were poorly understood, even by more experienced wizards and scholars. Mostly the book seemed to be a kind of arcane gibberish or else extremely complicated ways to do things much more easily accomplished with far simpler incantations. Weather magic was extremely rare and notoriously unpredictable. This spell was the only one she had ever seen that wasn’t locked up in some aging arch-mages grimoire. It was far more complicated than anything she had attempted, it felt like trying to mould dry sand in a hurricane. Her hands continued to weave the pattern prescribed, though her mind was disengaged from the process. The world seemed to have shaowed into a gray blur and things moved in the darkened mist. One of them was Markus swinging a sword but there were other things that she was sure she didn’t want to see.

It wasn’t going to work, there was nothing for her to hold onto the spell was on the verge of unravelling. With the suddenness of a lightning strike there was a flash of scarlet. It was blood, fountaining from a sword wound, dripping from Markus’ blade. She wasn’t sure how she did it but she reached for the blood it streamed towards her in concentric sanguine contrails. Magic poured from her in a surge that she felt like a tidal wave. It was like shaping clay with her finger tips and if only she knew how to sculpt it who knew what she might accomplish. Something tore and there was a sound like shattering glass. Calliope's eyes snapped open and from behind her came a monstrous gale. Air as cold as ice tore past her, stinging her skin. The rigging snapped taught with a thunderclap and the ship seemed to jump forward like a dolphin leaping from the spray. The howling of the wind was deafening, so strong that the water furrowed ahead of the gale. Calliope risked a quick glance over her shoulder. Snow mist were pouring through an odd distortion in in the air.

With a shout of victory she threw the wheel over and the ship lurched towards the guardship, then at the last second she hauled it back. The Weather Witch slammed into the side of the guardship, smashing the bank of oars on the starboard side like so many match stick. Even over the wind the screams of the oarsmen were audible as the were smashed against their benches or peppered with flying splinters. There was a grinding of timbers for a moment and then the Witch recoiled away, the pressure on her sails driving her like a racehorse towards the Sea Gate.

Calliopie stood up and did her best to look nonchalant, tucking the book back into her satchel as she did so. Glancing down at her arms she noticed strange patterns covering her arms, they seemed to be drawn in a pale crimson fire though it did not burn. After a moment the designs began to fade and then they were gone as though they had never been.

“As it happens,” she said modestly, “I do know a little weather magic.”
Junebug settled back against the comfortable restraint of the medicomp.

“Well shit.”

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

The slap of boots on the hull plating echoed through the cavernous hangar. The training hall was large enough to hold a dozen Highlanders, the ceiling, occasionally accessable by rope or other climinbing equipment, was at least ten meters high at its lowest point. A group of twenty men and women with severe haircuts were running an assault course, weaving in an out of obstacles and vaulting walls. A sallow faced female drill seargent hurled creative profanity at the soldiers as they tried in vain to reach a bar which would be perpetually be raised. Despite several massive ventilation grates at the end of the training hall, it still smelled like stale sweat and effort.

As Sayeeda completed her lap the training computer attached to her wrist beeped, flashing up a variety metrics to offer critique of her performance. She ignored the data for now, forcing herself to keep the same pace as she started the next rotation. It had been nearly a week since she got out of sickbay. True to York’s prediction she had made a full recovery, if anything she felt stronger than she had before the smugglers moon. Her training times were up across the board as were her marksmanship and reaction exercises. A brush with death could sometimes be good for focus.

The crew of the November Sky was reserved though she had seen a few of the female crew members giving Neil covert glances. For the most part they were polite but distant. Junebug wasn’t sure if this was the result of orders or of a generalized distaste for York and the other intelligence personell which had transferred to his ‘guests’. If they were prisoners there were few restrictions placed on them. Marines kept them off the bridge and out of engineering but beyond that they had the run of the ship. According to York the trip to Sarvan would take almost three months. That given the currents and tides within the RIP that was actually amazingly fast. The bulk of the November Sky meant it could tolerate gradients that would shred a freighter the size of the Highlander. According to what little she had been able to get out of one of the ships astrogation staff she had cornered in the cafeteria, the currents were nearly as bad as it was possible to be. Judging by how haunted the fellow looked, the navigational staff was working long hours to make any progress whatsoever.

The Highlander was still accessible but a swarm of Terran technicians were helping ‘refit’ the vessel. Although the actually seemed to be doing real work, they had ‘coincidentally’ stripped out the fusion plant for a partial rebuilt. The vessel was unflyable without several hours and a full tech team to put it back together. Worst of all York and his men had confiscated the aestimobium while Junebug had been in medical. It was technically a restricted substance in Terran space and though York had made a few token statements about evidence and due process but she wasn’t holding her breath.

“Junebug!” Sayeeda slackened her pace as Taya hurried into the training hall. The girl was wearing a terran uniform without insignia. It was a flattering cut on her, though Junebug wasn’t, in general, a fan of uniforms. The girl had initially been timid but she seemed to be relaxing into her new surroundings.

“Major York is looking for us,” Taya said as Junebug came to a stop breathing hard. The computer on her wrist beeped as it registred that her exercise had come to an end. The mercenary laughed without much real humor.

“I would be shocked if York was in any doubt as to where we are, I’m willing to bet he gets a briefing on what we have for breakfast.” Taya shrugged as if that were of no import.

“Apparently they are going to release Saxon and York wants to hold some sort of briefing, I figured we would meet up with Neil and talk before that.” They were walking towards the showers as they spoke. Sayeeda nodded.

“Good thought, let me grab a shower and then we can meet Neil… somewhere.” Taya reached out and laid a hand on Junebug’s forearm.

“Junebug, I wanted to talk to you about something,” the girl said earnestly. Sayeeda frowned uncertain what the girl had in mind.

“Sure, whats on your mind Taya?” Junebug asked as she stepped into the shower cubicle and began stripping off her sweaty exercise clothes.

“Are you… well are you feeling alright?”

Junebug stepped into the shower and clicked the button, bracing herself. The Terrans evidently believed in toughening up their troops because the shower was icy cold.

“Yeah, I feel great, Terrans may be assholes but they got the best medical tech in the galaxy.”

“Right,” Taya returned in a tone that didn’t quite convey agreement. Sighing Junebug stepped out of the shower and fixed the girl with a level look inviting her to get to the point.

“You look younger, younger since the surgery I mean,” Taya blurted. Sayeeda looked in the mirror, it wasn’t something she made a habit of, after thirty, the chances you would find an improvement were pretty small. It didn’t seem to her that their was much difference, the shadows under her eyes were a bit lighter, her face a bit less taught.

“I was burning the thrusters pretty hard before the Smugglers Moon, I’m sure its just rest and the doctor enforced diet.” Taya looked unconvinced at this as Sayeeda pulled open a locker and retrieved a white t-shirt and her customary fatigue pants.

“Let see what Niel makes of this briefing shall we?”

No problem, loving what we have so far!
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