Terrans

Graveyard Orbit

"Captain" James Castleton

James sauntered back in to the bar. The good "Captain" whistling merrily as he took in the lack of fisticuffs and splintering furniture. Brushing glass, dust and bits of food from his duster.

The Barman looked from Dusk to Charnud, grimaced, "I don't think you folks know what you're getting yourselves into. These are not bandits, they're mercenaries from some conflict. Battle hardened folk with plenty of big guns, which you folk sorely lack... But I suppose if one of you was willing to step up as sheriff that would be a start. There would have to be a vote of course, but I don't imagine many people voting against able to get things done."

@Dyelli Beybi

"Big guns you say. I myself happen to be an expert on weaponry and its procurement. Allow me to offer my services in that regard." He flashed a smile that would rival that of a used car salesperson except for the warmth of the gesture. He made his way over to the much abused figure that was the Deputy Tarquin.

"You look rather under the weather. Let me help you back to your office. Then I will help you with those desperados and big guns in the hillside." James reached out to help steady the man. Despite the human's rather large size; the deputy still dwarfed him by a good bit. But the difference was not so awkward as James shrugged an arm over his shoulder and helped the dhasath totter down the street. " I have some tricks up my sleeve that I think you will be very interested in my slightly concussed friend."

Empire of the Clouds

Pvt. Aden Robertson

Aden wishes he had gotten out more as a kid. Or at least done more then trust his family to provide the advantageous match. His sole experience to romance beyond flings on a weekend pass was a match his parents had arranged. A few supervised meetings that they had tried not to make eye contact during while their respective parents ironed out the contract. The date of their proposal was supposed to be post his Inbur trip.

Well the gods knew how that had turned out. How that led to him asking permission to court a royal (and it being accepted; no less) still boggled his mind.

Zoe's babbling however at least made Aden feel better in one aspect. She was as confused in this whole mess as he was. Something that at least gave him the confidence to continue.

"I can't confess must experience in these matters either." He offered his arm though. Becoming more aware of the chilling bite of the wind. "But we can find out together if you wish your High-....Zoe."

Graveyard Orbit

"Captain" James Castleton

"Anybody else want some, huh?!" he barked, chest rising and falling with an enraged scowl on his face.

@InfamousGuy101

James was aware the jarhead/grunt had said something. Hard to hear in the din of breaking furniture and thudding bodies. Though given that he currently stood over a prone body he could only assume it was some kind of challenge. Or perhaps a call for glue-

James' wasn't able to figure out Dusk's dramatic proclamation as he found himself taking flight for the third time of the fight. Finding that the window panes of this establishment should have been able to take the force of a man being thrown by four humanoid beings.

But alas it did not.

So James found himself on main street; his hat sitting lonely like on the dust beside him. The din of the fight spilling out the shattered window as the human dusted himself off. The "Captain" picked himself up and pondered whether it was worth it to reinsert himself into the fray.

A being he didn't know joined him on the street. Flying in a manner similar to James but with a much less graceful landing.

"Howdy. First fight??" The Kiellar just gave a pained groan and remained face down groaning as she clutched a bleed at the back of her head.

Empire of the Clouds

Pvt. Aden Robertson

She gave an indignant 'huff' before patting the holstered 'M1075' pistol at her hip - the standard Mittelandische service pistol - she must have got it off her cousin, "Anyway, want to show me how to use this thing? Preferably aiming out a window."

@Dyelli Beybi

Teaching a royal proper pistol handling was not something he expected of his army career.

BANG

"Tighten your grip! It's shifting towards your weak side!" The open air made him have to shout but it had one advantage.

BANG

He wouldn't go deft with Zoe firing away inside an enclosed cabin. The engine's and the winds loud enough to steal away the reports.

BANG

He took a drag of his cigarette as she awkwardly reloaded. She understood the weapon's operations but obviously lacked the practice. Finger's fumbling as Aden gave a bemused chuckle.

"Here." He stuffed the butt in his mouth as she stepped to Zoe's side and mirrored Zoe's hands; his larger grips guiding hers. " Tilt it slightly and wiggle this..."

A slight click as she slid the stripper clip and its' rounds home. It was only as she holstered the pistol and looked at him that he realized the proximity. Instruction having taken priority but now after...

Common sense told him to apologize and step away.

Good manners and etiquette demanded a profuse apology.

That voice at the back of his head however....

"Miss Spyrou may I ask for permission to court you?"

... decided to throw protocol, rank and etiquette out a window and set it on fire apparently. His words catching up with him as his jaw dropped and his cigarette took to the wind. He backed up now suddenly. Stammering as his conscious mind caught up.

"I'm sorry. That was improper of me. I...I...."

In The Black (A Clean-Up Crew RP)

Unfortunately, a temporal wormhole caused a spatial anomaly delaying my post. Forcing me to fend off time beasts while carefully crafting my next post.

Definitely, what happened and not me hitting massive writer's block and IRL issues.

In The Black (A Clean-Up Crew RP)

Obsidian Dynamics Research Facility
Utah
Sector Null Zero

The beeping of the continued denials added to the background noise as Graves glanced at his "elite" team.

"Ceiling...???" Graves sounded mystified. Casting a glance around just in case Enzo had seen something he hadn't. Finding nothing; he turned back to the monstrous tech. "We're four stories underground. How do you intend to....."

The beeping continued. The sound merging with his rising pulse.

"Cut that shit out!!!!!" He snapped. The beeping stopped with the card halfway into its reader. The shooter looking guiltily at Graves. Then it gave a single furtive beep. Graves was silent before he pulled his mask up; the smell of cordite and whatever the hell the tech-zombies bled mingling as he rubbed his face.

"Just get the damn door open Enzo." His voice muffled by his glove as he seemed to try and contain his headache.

Perhaps for the better as he missed the reporter, newly acquired camera in hand, panning over the macabre scene. Taking in the corporate logos of Obsidian Dynamics on the wall, the Acheron logo on the shooter's uniforms, catching a profile of Grave's face and finally the posing (but definitely not posing) stance of Fabio.

All the while a camera in the far corner watched this all. A bright blue glow in the camera lens.

@Dyelli Beybi, @Theyra, @PrinceAlexus
******
Obsidian Dynamics Research Facility
Utah
Fourth Floor

There was something about the manner of Soraya's ease of subduing the intern that gave Sam pause. The ease as she choked out the woman and found a vein to ensure total unconsciousness was so...clinical. It was so mechanical.

"Help move her please." Soraya said, as though this was just another day at the office. "I need to monitor her breathing."

@Tesserach

Sam gave a sigh before she knelt to help haul up the dead weight of the intern. Mainly because she didn't see Imogen helping and Stokes was the best of them with a gun for the trip downstairs.

Downstairs... Sam gave an internal groan as she mentally braced for hauling the intern down the flight of stairs. Besides, not as if the day could be any worse?

*****

Downstairs
Acheron LZ and Command Post

"What do you mean the Italian took the reporter with him!!!???" Sam was aware that she was screaming. Something that was against a lot of good managerial tactics. Not that the Acheron shooter in charge of the makeshift CP seemed to mind. The man's New Jersey accent evident as he thumbed back at the ruined lobby.

"Look, the guys came down with the reporter. The guy with the slick hair and the sunglasses gave the news lady a new camera and took her down to see the boss."

Sam would have fought the "boss" title if she currently wasn't feeling a sense of rising panic that a reporter had been escorted into a sensitive area. Her breathing frantic as she turned and began a frantic stumble into the facility with those who she had beckoned to fellow.

The shooter watched her run before he glanced at the unconscious intern and the Acheron personnel who hadn't run into the facility like a mad person.

"Why didn't she just radio the DA team?"

All he got was a shrug from a helo pilot that watched the horizon and the encroaching shadow of three helicopters emerging from the blue skies.

@Tesserach, @PatientBean, @JFK

In The Black (A Clean-Up Crew RP)

Post to come tomorrow.

Next action piece or do we want a few moments for character interactions?

Empire of the Clouds

Pvt. Aden Robertson

Him and the machine gun post had become old friends by this point. The chill of the post, due to the wind and the altitude, was welcoming now. Though he pulled his cap down to his eyebrows and tugged his greatcoat collar's higher. A degree more of warmth as he smoked the last of his cigarette.

He relished the familiar burn of his lungs and the warmth of the smoke battling the chill of the higher altitude. Then it was over.

Aden gave a sigh as the cigarette burned down to a stub. A dismissive flick of a finger sent the butt tumbling over the railing.

He was going to have to ration his cigarettes. He was down four already and he only had two more packs squirreled away in his footlocker. The logistics of cigarette rationing and potential resupply his current thought as he made his way back aboard the zeppelin. Exchanging hurried greetings with the Mittelander who went forward to take his place on the gun.

The corridors of the airship warmer and more pleasant at least. Aden stripped his gloves and hat for a small bit of relief and-

'OOOPH'

'OOOPH'

Him and his collider exhaled near simultaneously. Aden himself nearly bowling over the shorter-

"Zoe?" His tone was probably to questioning ( and informal for that matter) then was required for addressing a royal leader. Though the past few days had definitely shown ceremony was not on her mind on the best of days. Underway on an airship to a war zone; protocol was definitely tossed out the window. "What brings you down here?"

Paradise Lost

Captain John Lockman

“And someone should keep eyes on the Kestrel. I don’t care if it’s from inside the cockpit or right here on the pad, but if this turns ugly, I want a fast exfil and no surprises waiting at the ramp.”

@InfamousGuy101

"I wonder who will stay with the bird." John said to nobody. Unlatching the pair of robotic carts and trundling them down the back ramp. Their control's temporarily slaved to his TacPad. The carts giving a slight jolt as they dropped from the hard ramp to the tarmac. "Who among us will stay with the bird that can get us off this potentially abandoned dirt ball?"

John stopped next to Mark. A few jabs of his TacPad transferred control of the carts to Mark's TacPad; a more ruggedized variant but the same OS.

"Don't get eaten Jarhead. I'll be in the 92." John wandered off at this point. Stopping briefly before Velia to sync his helmet comms to hers. A process he didn't need with Mark since the LG-92's internal comm system had already added the frequency of an Edenite marine's comm system.

"My number for when the grass tries to eat us all." A smile hidden behind his helmet before he climbed back up the ramp. The armored partition sealing into place with a whine of hydraulics as the shuttle turned sealed itself off. A lump of armor and angular edges squatting on the edge of the spaceport.

Graveyard Orbit

"Captain" James Castleton

The brawl continued as James leveled himself up. The chaos escalating as furniture was broken into clubs and bottles thrown with more intensity. His compatriots of necessity and ill-timing giving good accountings of themselves judging by the bodies and debris thrown up around their fights.

The "Captain" hauled himself onto the bar and chose his next way forward. A large Dhasath man advanced on one of his fellow ex-prisoners. James leapt into action.

Literally.

His leap taking him from the bar to a suspiciously low hanging industrial chandelier. In his mind the motion would have swung him forward to the point of release to allow him to launch at the large muscled being. Physics and gravity adding onto the force.

Instead; all James heard was the snap of a cable breaking and the sensation of falling. As he and the light fixture made a slight parabolic arc that bowled over four beings in a jumble of limbs that crashed into a long table. The table's contents of steaming hot chili and pitchers of alcohol having miraculously survived the fight to that point. The collections of beverages and food splattering James and the four beings as they lay groaning amongst the wreckage of the chandelier and the table.