tyranna
🍉 uncertified milf 🍉 ● arcane loving loser
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Futuristic 𝗖𝗼𝘀𝗺𝗶𝗰 𝗘𝘅𝗶𝗹𝗲𝘀: 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗽𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗶𝘂𝗺
ScatheAriiasqDrayceon
Just cause I read worse don't mean it ain't cursed
- One on One
- Group
Stars in the sky, thievery was easy.
Arii swiped the last of the mulimuli taste from their beak in what could be graciously described as "smugness". Actually—"self-satisfied, prickish glee" was far more accurate, with their facial arch scrunched up so far that the tips of their teeth peeked out from their blue-stained mouth and their tail flagged behind them as they quietly replaced the top on the crate with light fingers. Worth it.
Their ears turned to the sound of voices just outside the ship, and Arii took a moment to rock back onto the balls of their feet. Their spurs clacked together quietly.
Alright, alright—they hadn't come to the ship to steal (initially), but the stumbling fools of the crew just left the boxes there. Just... in the cargo bay. Arii's sense of smell may not have been the best in the immediate galaxy, but even they could recognize the citrus scent wafting from the boxes in waves. They've never really had to have that much self-control, before, nor have they ever wanted it. They still weren't sure they wanted it, even with the evidence of their bad decisions staining their mouth an undisguisable shade of blue.
Long story short, in the span of the few hours it took the crew to load, Arii had crunched through just about everything short of the stones of the fruit and wood of the boxes. Just the thought of it had orange lines driving themselves in pleased rings about their face, the prickling feeling of their scales—as they liked to call it—turning over spreading far down their neck to stop at mid-back only because it occurred to them in a semi-citrus-drunk manner that they hadn't secured an exit... yet.
The cargobay door had opened in a flash of damning light right as they had been scuttling their way back through the air circulation system.
So, anyway, Arii—as they were scratching petulantly at the rocky ground of Re'saq—figured that with them having quite literally eaten the crew out of a fortune (sue them—they kept that ship cold as the fifth thermocline back home), putting their truly-less-than-ample services to use was fair.
Still, why did it have to be picking the damn fruit? Out of all of the things, why the fruit?
A bloom of purple flickered across their arms as they trudged along in the middle of the group they'd been assigned, their tail kept curled near their chest so they didn't have to shake vines, or bugs, or possibly other such icky things off. The petals of unpleasant amethyst spread up to their neck, brushing feather-light across their face just long enough for them to scratch at their scales uncomfortably. A few—shimmering and translucent in the light—flaked off, dry after being in open air for so long. More purple spread.
It wasn't a common thing—letting their kneejerk reactions take over their coloration—but they figured that they'd get into a few less problems if they weren't actively keeping a morph, despite their knowledge that the myth of Tynak's changing colors based on emotion was largely false. It couldn't hurt, at least.
Gave them something to do as they walked.
The environment was dense, lush with all sorts of annoying green things. Like a kelp forest, Arii couldn't even so much as turn their head without running into something, or getting a vine wrapped around their arm, or tripping. The purple leaves of pigment curling along their arms darkened significantly as Arii—as light on their feet as they were—landed on an uneven rock and had to scramble to regain their footing, claws scraping irritatingly across the rough surface. Above them, towering trees blocked out most light, filtering the world through a light haze of green. It would have been nice, were it not for the sharp sunspots that occasionally hit them directly in the eye, prompting nothing less than the uncomfortable spasming of their nictitating membrane.
They weren't even a minute out from the ship, and they already regretted telling themself those damned words "oh, it might be fun". Arii's ears flattened, bringing a familiar, quiet ringing with the fading of the sounds of the woods and sending a vibrant magenta down their arms to curl around the purple.
The noise of their own ears drove their voice to their throat after approximately ten seconds of silence. "So..." they drawled, extending the vowel in a long hum that lasted around six seconds longer than socially acceptable. Words hissed from between their teeth in an easy, grin-laden, mildly accented "You guys from Jersey?" Really, they needed to stop watching as much Earth media as they did. It was a bad influence on them.
Still, their tail flagged with the bubbling amusement in their chest, and orange-yellow flourished under their hands like the universe's worst cheese addiction. Quite obviously, they were pleased with themself, their facial ridge scrunched up to show the tips of their teeth as orange spiraled up their arms in complicated fractal patterns. Again, their tail flicked, only for it to evolve into a happy little jitter as they remembered that these bozos still don't even know my name.
Oh, how did they ever get so sidetracked?
Then again, most of their life was simply one big sidetrack. They were, however, the finest at going with the flow, which meant that—despite their earlier plans—they let the self-satisfied, absolutely self-destructive gravedigging continue. A long hum pulled itself from their chest with little warning, their meter lopsided and stilted. "Mayhaps not Jersey. Oklahoma? Colorado—Nah, you guys look like a Nevada kinda group." Another burst of orange crawled up their chest, flaring onto their neck in a brilliant display of swirling shades. They shouldn't have been as amused as they were at their own joke, but something about the day—even if they had gotten caught too quickly for their liking—made their heart run that much faster and their colors come that much easier.
A positively delighted shade of tangerine took over their hands, and another jitter ran up their back. It took them a moment to "shake" out their colors, flapping their hands with just enough force to make the joints rattle against their sockets before they managed to return to their usual morph.
Arii swiped the last of the mulimuli taste from their beak in what could be graciously described as "smugness". Actually—"self-satisfied, prickish glee" was far more accurate, with their facial arch scrunched up so far that the tips of their teeth peeked out from their blue-stained mouth and their tail flagged behind them as they quietly replaced the top on the crate with light fingers. Worth it.
Their ears turned to the sound of voices just outside the ship, and Arii took a moment to rock back onto the balls of their feet. Their spurs clacked together quietly.
Alright, alright—they hadn't come to the ship to steal (initially), but the stumbling fools of the crew just left the boxes there. Just... in the cargo bay. Arii's sense of smell may not have been the best in the immediate galaxy, but even they could recognize the citrus scent wafting from the boxes in waves. They've never really had to have that much self-control, before, nor have they ever wanted it. They still weren't sure they wanted it, even with the evidence of their bad decisions staining their mouth an undisguisable shade of blue.
Long story short, in the span of the few hours it took the crew to load, Arii had crunched through just about everything short of the stones of the fruit and wood of the boxes. Just the thought of it had orange lines driving themselves in pleased rings about their face, the prickling feeling of their scales—as they liked to call it—turning over spreading far down their neck to stop at mid-back only because it occurred to them in a semi-citrus-drunk manner that they hadn't secured an exit... yet.
The cargobay door had opened in a flash of damning light right as they had been scuttling their way back through the air circulation system.
So, anyway, Arii—as they were scratching petulantly at the rocky ground of Re'saq—figured that with them having quite literally eaten the crew out of a fortune (sue them—they kept that ship cold as the fifth thermocline back home), putting their truly-less-than-ample services to use was fair.
Still, why did it have to be picking the damn fruit? Out of all of the things, why the fruit?
A bloom of purple flickered across their arms as they trudged along in the middle of the group they'd been assigned, their tail kept curled near their chest so they didn't have to shake vines, or bugs, or possibly other such icky things off. The petals of unpleasant amethyst spread up to their neck, brushing feather-light across their face just long enough for them to scratch at their scales uncomfortably. A few—shimmering and translucent in the light—flaked off, dry after being in open air for so long. More purple spread.
It wasn't a common thing—letting their kneejerk reactions take over their coloration—but they figured that they'd get into a few less problems if they weren't actively keeping a morph, despite their knowledge that the myth of Tynak's changing colors based on emotion was largely false. It couldn't hurt, at least.
Gave them something to do as they walked.
The environment was dense, lush with all sorts of annoying green things. Like a kelp forest, Arii couldn't even so much as turn their head without running into something, or getting a vine wrapped around their arm, or tripping. The purple leaves of pigment curling along their arms darkened significantly as Arii—as light on their feet as they were—landed on an uneven rock and had to scramble to regain their footing, claws scraping irritatingly across the rough surface. Above them, towering trees blocked out most light, filtering the world through a light haze of green. It would have been nice, were it not for the sharp sunspots that occasionally hit them directly in the eye, prompting nothing less than the uncomfortable spasming of their nictitating membrane.
They weren't even a minute out from the ship, and they already regretted telling themself those damned words "oh, it might be fun". Arii's ears flattened, bringing a familiar, quiet ringing with the fading of the sounds of the woods and sending a vibrant magenta down their arms to curl around the purple.
The noise of their own ears drove their voice to their throat after approximately ten seconds of silence. "So..." they drawled, extending the vowel in a long hum that lasted around six seconds longer than socially acceptable. Words hissed from between their teeth in an easy, grin-laden, mildly accented "You guys from Jersey?" Really, they needed to stop watching as much Earth media as they did. It was a bad influence on them.
Still, their tail flagged with the bubbling amusement in their chest, and orange-yellow flourished under their hands like the universe's worst cheese addiction. Quite obviously, they were pleased with themself, their facial ridge scrunched up to show the tips of their teeth as orange spiraled up their arms in complicated fractal patterns. Again, their tail flicked, only for it to evolve into a happy little jitter as they remembered that these bozos still don't even know my name.
Oh, how did they ever get so sidetracked?
Then again, most of their life was simply one big sidetrack. They were, however, the finest at going with the flow, which meant that—despite their earlier plans—they let the self-satisfied, absolutely self-destructive gravedigging continue. A long hum pulled itself from their chest with little warning, their meter lopsided and stilted. "Mayhaps not Jersey. Oklahoma? Colorado—Nah, you guys look like a Nevada kinda group." Another burst of orange crawled up their chest, flaring onto their neck in a brilliant display of swirling shades. They shouldn't have been as amused as they were at their own joke, but something about the day—even if they had gotten caught too quickly for their liking—made their heart run that much faster and their colors come that much easier.
A positively delighted shade of tangerine took over their hands, and another jitter ran up their back. It took them a moment to "shake" out their colors, flapping their hands with just enough force to make the joints rattle against their sockets before they managed to return to their usual morph.
tyranna
🍉 uncertified milf 🍉 ● arcane loving loser
- Group
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BittyBobcat
Llama hand
- One on One
- Group
- Dice
Gray - Navigator
Location: Re'saq travelling with Group A
Interactions: Arii (
ScatheAriiasqDrayceon
), Ka'zad
The job was going well. So well, in fact, that Gray was willing to bet that something was going to go wrong. They were more likely to commit arson while on a job than finish one smoothly and his statistics on that didn't even count the times they were explicitly hired to set something on fire (not that the disctinction mattered much; those assignments only accounted for 3.0046% of their arson charges anyway), so—though his crewmates might accuse him of being a pessimist for it—Gray found it hard to believe that a million credit job would be one of the lucky handful that went off without a hitch. Still, when he had finally flipped his pain-sensors back on and collapsed into his bed for some unfortunately necessary sleep, he had thought that he could at least get a cycle's rest before it all went to shit.
To their credit, it wasn't a fire this time. No, this time it was a gremlin that was apparently capable of eating an entire shipment of fruit within a matter of minutes, and Gray—perhaps unsurprisingly—did not get any sleep. Instead, he spent the past four hours determining coordinates, hunching closer to the nav-screen whenever Cole peeked over so he didn't notice the shortcut through an asteroid field that Gray was keen on avoiding, and hunting down what pitiful amount of information there was about the lush and infuriateingly difficult to traverse rainforest of Re'Saq.
And now he was walking.
Walking—Gray decided—was a generous term for what they were doing. Hiking perhaps got closer, but it was far more accurate to what the experience felt like to call it swimming. Leaves and vines hung so thickly that he had begun holding an arm out in front of his face just so they would stop slapping him in the eyes whenever he checked his navigator. He discovered another thorn embedded in his skin with every passing second and could only hope that they were non-poisonous (or non-venomous? It was hard to tell with plants, they didn't tend to bite). A certain dampness in the air told him that he should've re-waxed before heading out because now there was sure to be rust coating every inch of exposed metal on his body. How any of the others were managing without the ability to turn off any sensation of heat and bug bites was beyond him.
That said, there was at least one annoyance he was certain they all shared.
"So... you guys from Jersey?"
Gray was never much for presentation, but even he had to wonder how they had the gall to keep acting smug after they were caught.
"Mayhaps not Jersey. Oklahoma? Colorado—Nah, you guys look like a Nevada kinda group."
Maybe it was the lack of sleep talking—if his frequent yawns were anything to go by, it probably was—but he found himself more annoyed by this than he expected to. His eyebrow lowered in a half-hearted glare in their direction that proved to look more ridiculous than threatening considering his other eyebrow remained at a standstill. Then, with a sigh, he returned to watching the screen of his navigator and prying mystery plant-matter out of his arm. As long as they didn't engage with them, the gremlin would get bored on their own and—
“Definitely not from any of those terrible territories on Earth. Where are you from? Wherever your people must love costing people a fortune. Doesn’t matter where really, I’m dropping you off at the shittest spaceport Gray can find after we collect these mulimuli.”
Architects damn it, Zad. Did he really have to bicker with them like a child?
Reluctantly, Gray let loose a second, quieter sigh. It seemed he was getting dragged into this conversation whether he liked it or not (and there was no doubt that he lay in the latter camp). "I imagine dropping the mulimuli off is a bit higher on the priority list than that," he drily reminded him. A yawn forced him to pause for a moment before continuing with its slightly lowered pitch and vaguely sing-song tone lingering in his voice. "And after that you'll still have to settle for second shittiest."
Location: Re'saq travelling with Group A
Interactions: Arii (
ScatheAriiasqDrayceon
), Ka'zadThe job was going well. So well, in fact, that Gray was willing to bet that something was going to go wrong. They were more likely to commit arson while on a job than finish one smoothly and his statistics on that didn't even count the times they were explicitly hired to set something on fire (not that the disctinction mattered much; those assignments only accounted for 3.0046% of their arson charges anyway), so—though his crewmates might accuse him of being a pessimist for it—Gray found it hard to believe that a million credit job would be one of the lucky handful that went off without a hitch. Still, when he had finally flipped his pain-sensors back on and collapsed into his bed for some unfortunately necessary sleep, he had thought that he could at least get a cycle's rest before it all went to shit.
To their credit, it wasn't a fire this time. No, this time it was a gremlin that was apparently capable of eating an entire shipment of fruit within a matter of minutes, and Gray—perhaps unsurprisingly—did not get any sleep. Instead, he spent the past four hours determining coordinates, hunching closer to the nav-screen whenever Cole peeked over so he didn't notice the shortcut through an asteroid field that Gray was keen on avoiding, and hunting down what pitiful amount of information there was about the lush and infuriateingly difficult to traverse rainforest of Re'Saq.
And now he was walking.
Walking—Gray decided—was a generous term for what they were doing. Hiking perhaps got closer, but it was far more accurate to what the experience felt like to call it swimming. Leaves and vines hung so thickly that he had begun holding an arm out in front of his face just so they would stop slapping him in the eyes whenever he checked his navigator. He discovered another thorn embedded in his skin with every passing second and could only hope that they were non-poisonous (or non-venomous? It was hard to tell with plants, they didn't tend to bite). A certain dampness in the air told him that he should've re-waxed before heading out because now there was sure to be rust coating every inch of exposed metal on his body. How any of the others were managing without the ability to turn off any sensation of heat and bug bites was beyond him.
That said, there was at least one annoyance he was certain they all shared.
"So... you guys from Jersey?"
Gray was never much for presentation, but even he had to wonder how they had the gall to keep acting smug after they were caught.
"Mayhaps not Jersey. Oklahoma? Colorado—Nah, you guys look like a Nevada kinda group."
Maybe it was the lack of sleep talking—if his frequent yawns were anything to go by, it probably was—but he found himself more annoyed by this than he expected to. His eyebrow lowered in a half-hearted glare in their direction that proved to look more ridiculous than threatening considering his other eyebrow remained at a standstill. Then, with a sigh, he returned to watching the screen of his navigator and prying mystery plant-matter out of his arm. As long as they didn't engage with them, the gremlin would get bored on their own and—
“Definitely not from any of those terrible territories on Earth. Where are you from? Wherever your people must love costing people a fortune. Doesn’t matter where really, I’m dropping you off at the shittest spaceport Gray can find after we collect these mulimuli.”
Architects damn it, Zad. Did he really have to bicker with them like a child?
Reluctantly, Gray let loose a second, quieter sigh. It seemed he was getting dragged into this conversation whether he liked it or not (and there was no doubt that he lay in the latter camp). "I imagine dropping the mulimuli off is a bit higher on the priority list than that," he drily reminded him. A yawn forced him to pause for a moment before continuing with its slightly lowered pitch and vaguely sing-song tone lingering in his voice. "And after that you'll still have to settle for second shittiest."
Tapfic
Sleeping
Red- Combat Specialist
Location: Group B
Interactions: Group B
-
The smell of a battle could very greatly. Some aliens had a much lower iron content in their blood, some planets had different soils, some opponents had drastically less control over their bladder- all the little things really added up.
Regardless Red always recognized it. The smell of adrenaline as it settled over scorched earth. Death and torn muscle, blood sweat and tears.
This massacre did not smell like a battle. No. This blood (juice) smelled like a tragedy.
Mulimuli dripped from the thing's jowls like blood from the teeth of a predator. Flesh hung from their deadly claws in clumps, only to be licked up with a greedy satisfaction. The empty husks of the once full barrels wailed in agony, mourning the loss of their beloved cargo. Truly traumatic, or it would have been if Red hadn't just tacked most of that on for dramatic effect.
Still, upsetting though. All that money down the drain, what was she gonna spend! All those poor liquors- all those unbetted games! What if she found a totally drop-dead hot crop top on the next planet? Really, her hand was being forced into skullduggery! It seemed the life of crime was simply unwilling to loosen it's cold jaws from her flesh! SAD!
Her distress may have been unending , had Novinah not so helpfully offered up her knowledge on where they could get more.
" Oh, heck yeah! "
-
" Totally unfair, " Red complained into the ear of any who would listen as she trudged through the unforgiving greenery.
" The little jelly thing stole all the fruit before I could,"
She paused, and pursed her lips.
" I mean- I'd only take a little, 'cuz I'm not stupid, but you get what I mean. "
Location: Group B
Interactions: Group B
-
The smell of a battle could very greatly. Some aliens had a much lower iron content in their blood, some planets had different soils, some opponents had drastically less control over their bladder- all the little things really added up.
Regardless Red always recognized it. The smell of adrenaline as it settled over scorched earth. Death and torn muscle, blood sweat and tears.
This massacre did not smell like a battle. No. This blood (juice) smelled like a tragedy.
Mulimuli dripped from the thing's jowls like blood from the teeth of a predator. Flesh hung from their deadly claws in clumps, only to be licked up with a greedy satisfaction. The empty husks of the once full barrels wailed in agony, mourning the loss of their beloved cargo. Truly traumatic, or it would have been if Red hadn't just tacked most of that on for dramatic effect.
Still, upsetting though. All that money down the drain, what was she gonna spend! All those poor liquors- all those unbetted games! What if she found a totally drop-dead hot crop top on the next planet? Really, her hand was being forced into skullduggery! It seemed the life of crime was simply unwilling to loosen it's cold jaws from her flesh! SAD!
Her distress may have been unending , had Novinah not so helpfully offered up her knowledge on where they could get more.
" Oh, heck yeah! "
-
" Totally unfair, " Red complained into the ear of any who would listen as she trudged through the unforgiving greenery.
" The little jelly thing stole all the fruit before I could,"
She paused, and pursed her lips.
" I mean- I'd only take a little, 'cuz I'm not stupid, but you get what I mean. "
Ayan
Cat Girl Extraordinaire
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- Quests
- Nation Building
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Feliak Mechanic
Mayarr Nezeuki
#5A6F76
Re'saq, Group A
Unlike most of her companions in the group, Maya didn't mind the jungle trek at all, she was quite literally made for this. She wasn't wearing her normal black jumpsuit, instead long pants, and a fairly simple cloth chest covering. Her fur did most of the work in terms of repelling bugs and thorns for her. To everyone else, it probably seemed miraculous, she seemed to only find solid footing, never struggling to get past vines or any other large amount of green things. Her ears twitched as the thief spoke, and she glanced up, a bit of a habit for her. She just so happened to see a fairly loose, thorny looking vine. She tuned out the subsequent and predictable bickering of Zad, which equally predictably pulled Grey in, and her tail shot up, wrapping around the vine, and elegantly and cleanly pulling it to swing a centimeter or so in front of the stowaway while he was still walking forward. Now that she had made this trek that much worse for him, she finally spoke herself.
"Est lena, can you three idiots shut up and let me focus?!" She actually had no need to focus right now, and even if she did, she was great at focusing while people were talking. She just thought it'd be amusing to shout and thus encourage other people to start shouting and mentioning expletives and such. If she was lucky, maybe she'd create a full blown argument. She realized now that she was in a great mood again, that may have had something to do with the fact that she didn't value money though.
Code by Serobliss
Allcure
The One and Only
Location: Re'saq
Time: ... God knows
Mood: Annoyed
Time: ... God knows
Mood: Annoyed
A black flight suit with the top half unzipped and tied around her waist to show a white tank top. Black combat boots and matching fingerless gloves.
Ever since Lisa had left the Holy Flotilla, the mass of ships leaving her adrift in the vastness of space, she had felt out of place. Out of place among the dirty junk traders on that god forsaken meteor she had been marooned upon after trading her dead-in-the-water ship for safe passage. Out of place among her first crew of Xylontic traders, the endless sound of their bug-like skittering echoing around the mess of metal and fire they called a ship. Out of place among the crew of the Avius, less so than previously of course, the motley crew of aliens and metal men were outcasts themselves after all, but enough to prevent her from being truly comfortable. And now, as they forged a path through the depths of the Ra'Saq rainforest, the all too familiar feeling was settling in once again.
Her boots fell heavy among the thick overgrowth, the terrestrial gravity weighing on her like a thick blanket. She had been getting better at handling the extra G's her crewmates were used too, but her brittle bones and slender muscles, the products of her astral upbringing, had yet to make the adjustment. Every step she made through the towering trees of this alien world was accompanied by a supreme effort, fuelled by the coals of anger still glowing within her. It had been bad enough they had to go planet side once to pick up the initial shipment, but to do so twice for that... Thing. She didn't know what that stowaway was, and she was in no hurry to learn. She had only just begun to feel comfortable around Novhina, Cerus and the other xenos.
"Totally unfair, the little jelly thing stole all the fruit before I could." Red moaned, dragging Lisa's attention away from the monotony of her footsteps "I mean- I'd only take a little, 'cuz I'm not stupid, but you get what I mean." Despite herself, a smile flashed across Lisa's lips. Whether it was their shared status as vertically challenged among a crew of relative giants, or simply the fact they shared a genome, she had a soft spot for Red's antics.
"What's the big deal anyway?" Lisa retorted, her tone so low and bitter it almost distracted from her near breathlessness. "Does this 'fruit' make you immortal or something?" She continued, her voice passing over the word with discomfort. The idea of fruit, hell the idea of plants was such a wild concept to her. She had grown up on an enriched algae paste. She had tried other foods since leaving the flotilla, but their flavours were so... loud and overwhelming, she had often found herself returning to bland greens and nutrient supplements.
Her boots fell heavy among the thick overgrowth, the terrestrial gravity weighing on her like a thick blanket. She had been getting better at handling the extra G's her crewmates were used too, but her brittle bones and slender muscles, the products of her astral upbringing, had yet to make the adjustment. Every step she made through the towering trees of this alien world was accompanied by a supreme effort, fuelled by the coals of anger still glowing within her. It had been bad enough they had to go planet side once to pick up the initial shipment, but to do so twice for that... Thing. She didn't know what that stowaway was, and she was in no hurry to learn. She had only just begun to feel comfortable around Novhina, Cerus and the other xenos.
"Totally unfair, the little jelly thing stole all the fruit before I could." Red moaned, dragging Lisa's attention away from the monotony of her footsteps "I mean- I'd only take a little, 'cuz I'm not stupid, but you get what I mean." Despite herself, a smile flashed across Lisa's lips. Whether it was their shared status as vertically challenged among a crew of relative giants, or simply the fact they shared a genome, she had a soft spot for Red's antics.
"What's the big deal anyway?" Lisa retorted, her tone so low and bitter it almost distracted from her near breathlessness. "Does this 'fruit' make you immortal or something?" She continued, her voice passing over the word with discomfort. The idea of fruit, hell the idea of plants was such a wild concept to her. She had grown up on an enriched algae paste. She had tried other foods since leaving the flotilla, but their flavours were so... loud and overwhelming, she had often found herself returning to bland greens and nutrient supplements.
Last edited:
ManhattanIV
Yeehaw
- One on One
- Off-site
code: @s e v e n
The Dalaxian did not really understand the hype of the fruit as much as the other crew members. Saw the monetary value, certainly, how could he not after it was all Cerus prattled on about after they all broke their backs hauling crates of cargo into the ship’s bay? For such a price tag, there had to be some whimsical property Loren knew nothing of.
Sure, they looked tasty as the next plump berry, and while Loren is certain some of his fellow cremates had snuck a fruit or two just because surely one missing fruit or twelve wouldn’t be noticed, he never had the urge himself. Doesn’t quite have the digestive tract for such vegetation.
Apparently, their newfound stowaway did, however. Could stomach not just one fruit, but the entire haul. Loren doesn’t think he’s ever seen Madam X so righteous with fury before; though he’s hardly faced by Kazan’s reaction. It would have been amusing.
He is indifferent in all circumstances as to the fate of the creature who dug such an inconvenient hole.
Loren had been a bit annoyed -irate - upon learning they’d have to scavenge another planet to recoup their stock. He was prepared to just cut their losses and call it a day, but such a settlement was a laughable one at best. His mood was quick to right itself, however, at the prospect of exploring a new planet. Well, portions of a planet, after his suggestion to divide and conquer is taken into consideration, but it’s all the same.
Weapons are the alien’s specialty; like a good little soldier he made sure his fellow crew members were properly suited and armed before setting off to trek the foreign forests, though he can’t help but wish he had a camera to document the flora and fauna.
Definitely the pillared arches of stone because they would look great in a scrapbook- but Loren is not about to make such a request. He thinks Cerus would have a right aneurysm should Loren bring up an additional expenditure so suddenly after their cash cow (crop?) vanished within the maws of the spontaneous stranger.
So Loren is content to commit such sights and vibrant color to memory, his demeanor as placid and agreeable as it typically was. Complacent to take the temporary lead of the group even if he only does so too afford himself an unaltered view of their change of scenery. The observationscomplaining of Red are practically second-nature at this point, yet they still succeed in bringing a grin to Loren’s face. Lisa is less enthusiastic, but that’s okay!
“Don’t worry, Red; maybe if you weren’t so slow you could’ve stolen some fruit before our guest, but that’s alright- there’s always next time!”
His tone of manner, while exponentially improved from his first voyage with the crew, is still ignorant of how to properly console someone. But it’s the thought that counts, right? His chirp of enthusiasm is evidence enough that he doesn’t mean any ill will, the opposite in fact, even if he’s witnessed Red brawl down on looks alone.
He’s a weapon specialist- not security, so he doesn’t feel all too bad about his lackadaisical traipse through the fauna, the proton particle beam rifle slung over his back.
Sure, they looked tasty as the next plump berry, and while Loren is certain some of his fellow cremates had snuck a fruit or two just because surely one missing fruit or twelve wouldn’t be noticed, he never had the urge himself. Doesn’t quite have the digestive tract for such vegetation.
Apparently, their newfound stowaway did, however. Could stomach not just one fruit, but the entire haul. Loren doesn’t think he’s ever seen Madam X so righteous with fury before; though he’s hardly faced by Kazan’s reaction. It would have been amusing.
He is indifferent in all circumstances as to the fate of the creature who dug such an inconvenient hole.
Loren had been a bit annoyed -
Weapons are the alien’s specialty; like a good little soldier he made sure his fellow crew members were properly suited and armed before setting off to trek the foreign forests, though he can’t help but wish he had a camera to document the flora and fauna.
Definitely the pillared arches of stone because they would look great in a scrapbook- but Loren is not about to make such a request. He thinks Cerus would have a right aneurysm should Loren bring up an additional expenditure so suddenly after their cash cow (crop?) vanished within the maws of the spontaneous stranger.
So Loren is content to commit such sights and vibrant color to memory, his demeanor as placid and agreeable as it typically was. Complacent to take the temporary lead of the group even if he only does so too afford himself an unaltered view of their change of scenery. The observations
“Don’t worry, Red; maybe if you weren’t so slow you could’ve stolen some fruit before our guest, but that’s alright- there’s always next time!”
His tone of manner, while exponentially improved from his first voyage with the crew, is still ignorant of how to properly console someone. But it’s the thought that counts, right? His chirp of enthusiasm is evidence enough that he doesn’t mean any ill will, the opposite in fact, even if he’s witnessed Red brawl down on looks alone.
He’s a weapon specialist- not security, so he doesn’t feel all too bad about his lackadaisical traipse through the fauna, the proton particle beam rifle slung over his back.
Klown
(∴✪౪⊗∴)
ＣＥＲＵＳ
Location: Re'saq
Interactions: Group B
Fit check:
It took a saint’s patience to run with the crew of the Avius but should Cerus not have that he’d be light years away by now. His placidity wasn’t abundant, and in disastrous moments like this he wondered if he truly was a saint for not encouraging Xersai’s desire to disembowel the stowaway. Not that he actively attempted to stop her, either. This Arii creature was fortunate the crew had space in their hearts to spare.
The dread of the situation had his jaw set tight for hours now, teeth clenched so rigidly a migraine began crawling up the right side of his head and pounded at a persistent rhythm against his temple. Being separated from the rest of the crew only amped the stress further. They could handle themselves, Cerus had no doubt about that. But what if that Arii character had more tricks up their sleeves?
“This is going to set us back a couple weeks at least.” Cerus mumbles to himself, eyes locked on the small holographic screen projecting out of his wristwatch. A series of indiscernible numbers and letters scroll past, and Cerus’ amber eyes flicker with each mental calculation. “Even if we find the fruit, there’s no telling if it will be enough as the cargo we had previously. There’s a chance the client might dock pay for that. We’ll likely be late on the delivery too, so that’s another blow.” The tip of his tail makes sharp, irate whips from one side to the other.
“Maybe we can make up the lost funds by selling the thief. Suppose they must be worth a pretty penny on the black market.” He snuffs out the holograph and looks forward at the group, lips pulled into a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes and gives a hollow laugh. “I’m kidding.” Was he, though?
IDKnuggets
Chicken Nugget
- Group
- Off-site
Colton Galloway
Re'saq had been, so far and in Colton's opinion, a miserable planet. Being forced to trek through a dense jungle where he could hardly glimpse the sky through the trees was suffocating. Some folks enjoyed nature, others were mostly robotic from the neck down. Cole sat firmly in the latter group, and found no overlap. If they didn’t need those fruit, he would never have stepped foot on this planet.
“What's th’big hubbub with th'fruits anywae, it’s just some Moolaemoolae” Cole wondered aloud, spinning one of aforementioned fruit on the tip of his finger. “I mean, I liked th’stuff well enough when I was a peedie one, but-“ the cyborg shrugged, dropping the fruit in the process. He deftly kicked it back up with one of his feet- directly into the back of Ka'Zad's head. “Whups”
He had snagged three of the Mulimuli while the crew was loading, figuring nobody would miss a couple stupid fruit out of a pile of them. A small sacrifice for such a noble cause as his, really. Cole had hoped to make a Mulimuli Moonshine from the fruit, one he would have shared with anyone willing of course!
A noble cause indeed.
But then, some stowaway had gone and eaten the entire stock. Cole thought he may have even caught a glimpse of the thief in action, but at the time had written it off as Novinha or her husband nabbing themselves a taste. He certainly wasn’t going to begrudge another crew member’s indulgence, especially after snagging a couple himself. Instead, he was now forced out on a fruit picking mission with their… prisoner? Intern?
Whatever they called this odd creature, his group had gotten stuck with it while they went to pick more of the Mulimuli. That is, once they reached wherever the damn things grew. The hike there seemed to go on forever, and he wondered how the others were making out. Lucky group B had probably only had a short stroll to their spot, the bastards.
Colton shot an eye in the direction of the thief as they spoke, shaking his head as they listed off the names of some earth states. Zad finally piped up, noting that they weren’t from any of those ‘terrible territories’ on Earth. The cyborg had to agree; he had been to Nevada once and it was awful, and as for Jersey… well, every Earth born person knew about Jersey.
“Bah, gross. Jersae? Naevada? Figures yeh would go straight for th’Americans” Cole protested, turning his nose up at the thought. “S’ppose we dae have lots o’ big guns an’ a habit o’ swingin’ our collective prick around though” he added with a chuckle, rapping his knuckles against the Ace of Hearts on his hip as he did. Truth is American, German, and even Scottish it was all pretty much the same to him. For some reason though, America definitely seemed to be what Earth was known for. The Florida of Earth, as some said.
Gray reminded Zad, as the latter threatened to dump their new friend off on the shitties station they could find, that the mission at hand was a bit higher a priority. At this, Cole rolled his eyes. "Ah, c'mon Grae. Dinnae be such a buzz kill, we can dae both"
Cole’s eyes returned to the front just in time to catch Mayarr snag a vine with her tail, pulling it back and then letting it whip at their ‘helper’. He let out a snort at the behavior, shooting Maya an approving wink and thumbs up when he thought she would catch it. There was nothing he enjoyed more than a good bit of fun to lighten up a mission, especially when that fun was at the expense of a handsy stowaway.
“How much longer until we reach this spot anywae, Am tired o’ this damn jungle an’ I could use a snack” Cole complained, glancing hopefully in Novinha’s direction. If anyone in this group might have a snack they were willing to share, it was her.
With- Group A
Mentions- Arii, Gray, Maya, Novinha, Zad
ScatheAriiasqDrayceon
Just cause I read worse don't mean it ain't cursed
- One on One
- Group
Oh, they were already annoyed. Another jitter sent Arii's tail into a vine, knocking it sideways so that it swayed dejectedly before parting from its origin tree, and despite them just regaining enough of themself to look marginally cowed, orange exploded across their scales in a massive, shimmering wave, coloring them from head to toe in everything from carrot to cinnamon. Delightful little creatures this crew hosted.
"Well—y'know, you look awful human aside from the—" they made an odd face, clicking their hind teeth together and waving their arms before eventually settling on sticking two fingers from their secondary limbs up near their forehead—"horns." A pause, then tacked onto the end like a neon sticky note, they added "respectfully, of course." While their tone—blank, with a strange lilt that killed any kind of typical intonation pattern—left something to be desired, the living epilepsy hazard that they were was telling. "Though, I must say, costing people money is my leading skill, so—"
Their secondary eyes caught it before their primaries did, and all at once, they snapped their mouth shut, jolting backward with a mildly ominous pop as their tibias bowed out. Arii flattened themself to around waist-height, letting the thorny vine (that they didn't register as such) sail over their head with a soft hiss. Their reaction time almost would have been impressive were it not for the fact that they immediately fell over backward, full-scorpion-ing backward over their own head and into whichever poor sod happened to be behind them at the time.
Purple distaste disguised the ugly scratches on their soft scales. A chrr stirred in their throat. Unamused, but humoring. "'Lright, 'lright. Like a rogue bubble this one is," Arii grumbled as they shoved themself away from the victim of their little fall reflexively. A sigh rattled the vents on the sides of their neck. "Didn't expect you bozos to take the Jersey thing seriously. Skies." The flat of their tail slapped the ground, sending leaves just about every direction.
Arii stayed on all fours as they surveyed the group again, the amused orange mostly vanished, but still tinting their red in places, the patterns oddly like flowers. They straightened after they were satisfied that no one was going to throw anything at them again. "In any case, wouldn't it make more sense to toss me off at the nearest spaceport—y'know, so you can be rid of me faster?" Their facial arch scrunched, though it was harder to tell if it was amusement or confusion.
They found—thankfully—that they weren't hungry anymore, the warmth from the jungle keeping their metabolism down.
"Well—y'know, you look awful human aside from the—" they made an odd face, clicking their hind teeth together and waving their arms before eventually settling on sticking two fingers from their secondary limbs up near their forehead—"horns." A pause, then tacked onto the end like a neon sticky note, they added "respectfully, of course." While their tone—blank, with a strange lilt that killed any kind of typical intonation pattern—left something to be desired, the living epilepsy hazard that they were was telling. "Though, I must say, costing people money is my leading skill, so—"
Their secondary eyes caught it before their primaries did, and all at once, they snapped their mouth shut, jolting backward with a mildly ominous pop as their tibias bowed out. Arii flattened themself to around waist-height, letting the thorny vine (that they didn't register as such) sail over their head with a soft hiss. Their reaction time almost would have been impressive were it not for the fact that they immediately fell over backward, full-scorpion-ing backward over their own head and into whichever poor sod happened to be behind them at the time.
Purple distaste disguised the ugly scratches on their soft scales. A chrr stirred in their throat. Unamused, but humoring. "'Lright, 'lright. Like a rogue bubble this one is," Arii grumbled as they shoved themself away from the victim of their little fall reflexively. A sigh rattled the vents on the sides of their neck. "Didn't expect you bozos to take the Jersey thing seriously. Skies." The flat of their tail slapped the ground, sending leaves just about every direction.
Arii stayed on all fours as they surveyed the group again, the amused orange mostly vanished, but still tinting their red in places, the patterns oddly like flowers. They straightened after they were satisfied that no one was going to throw anything at them again. "In any case, wouldn't it make more sense to toss me off at the nearest spaceport—y'know, so you can be rid of me faster?" Their facial arch scrunched, though it was harder to tell if it was amusement or confusion.
They found—thankfully—that they weren't hungry anymore, the warmth from the jungle keeping their metabolism down.
tyranna
🍉 uncertified milf 🍉 ● arcane loving loser
- Group
- Off-site
Uniko
~ Horochimaru ~
BittyBobcat
Llama hand
- One on One
- Group
- Dice
Gray - Navigator
Location: Ra'Saq with Group A
Interactions: Cole (
IDKnuggets
), technically Mayarr (
Ayan
)
"Est lena, can you three idiots shut up and let me focus?!"
Gray's face scrunched up like a sea anemone that had been rudely poked at low tide. He opened his mouth to point that there wasn't really anything to focus on considering the fact that he was the one navigating and, if he knew Maya, he knew that she had either memorized the route by now or hadn't so much as glanced at her navigator until know, but was interupted by Ka'zad shooting him a look that he couldn't quite decode before promptly becoming one with the dirt.
He would've helped him up if it wasn't for the fact that he didn't know exactly where he had fallen. That was the problem with rainforests, they always fogged up his cybernetic eye. By the time he blinked the mist away, Ka'zad was already getting up and Gray was forced to debate whether this was one of those situations where he was supposed to ask if he was alright or pointedly ignore the whole miniature fiasco.
"Ah, c'mon Grae. Dinnae be such a buzz kill, we can dae both. How much longer until we reach this spot anywae, Am tired o’ this damn jungle an’ I could use a snack.”
He opted for the latter to gripe at Cole, who was generally easier to talk to anyway (if only because he wasn't as likely to call Gray insobordinate when he was in a bad mood). "Statistically, we're more likely to be kicked off of a planet for simultaneously seducing leaders of important political parties, rigging a poker game, and desecrating a historical monument than successfully reach two consecutive destinations without being sidetracked." He paused and raised his gaze from his navigator for the first time since he had started talking, eyes sliding back and forth as if he were reading lines on an invisible page. "And I think we're still wanted there on charges of arson and either kidnapping or stealing depending on how much you pay your lawyer. Add bail to the landing fees and fuel costs, and the whole trip would cost about... eighteen thousand and seven hundred twenty-two point four credits, plus tax and second bail."
With that, he glued his eyes back to his navigator—which, judging by the fizzling noise, was just as unhappy to be there as his arm was—and added, "anywhere from two minutes to seventeen hours depending on our travel pace, the presence unmarked landslides, and the temperments of local hornet-bears," as an afterthought. Admittedly, he didn't yet know what a hornet-bear was or why their temperment was so important to calculating travel times, but the information had shown up in at least four of the databases he checked, and no amount of self-doubt would stop Gray from trusting his intuition and deciding that he didn't really need to know.
Location: Ra'Saq with Group A
Interactions: Cole (
IDKnuggets
), technically Mayarr (
Ayan
)"Est lena, can you three idiots shut up and let me focus?!"
Gray's face scrunched up like a sea anemone that had been rudely poked at low tide. He opened his mouth to point that there wasn't really anything to focus on considering the fact that he was the one navigating and, if he knew Maya, he knew that she had either memorized the route by now or hadn't so much as glanced at her navigator until know, but was interupted by Ka'zad shooting him a look that he couldn't quite decode before promptly becoming one with the dirt.
He would've helped him up if it wasn't for the fact that he didn't know exactly where he had fallen. That was the problem with rainforests, they always fogged up his cybernetic eye. By the time he blinked the mist away, Ka'zad was already getting up and Gray was forced to debate whether this was one of those situations where he was supposed to ask if he was alright or pointedly ignore the whole miniature fiasco.
"Ah, c'mon Grae. Dinnae be such a buzz kill, we can dae both. How much longer until we reach this spot anywae, Am tired o’ this damn jungle an’ I could use a snack.”
He opted for the latter to gripe at Cole, who was generally easier to talk to anyway (if only because he wasn't as likely to call Gray insobordinate when he was in a bad mood). "Statistically, we're more likely to be kicked off of a planet for simultaneously seducing leaders of important political parties, rigging a poker game, and desecrating a historical monument than successfully reach two consecutive destinations without being sidetracked." He paused and raised his gaze from his navigator for the first time since he had started talking, eyes sliding back and forth as if he were reading lines on an invisible page. "And I think we're still wanted there on charges of arson and either kidnapping or stealing depending on how much you pay your lawyer. Add bail to the landing fees and fuel costs, and the whole trip would cost about... eighteen thousand and seven hundred twenty-two point four credits, plus tax and second bail."
With that, he glued his eyes back to his navigator—which, judging by the fizzling noise, was just as unhappy to be there as his arm was—and added, "anywhere from two minutes to seventeen hours depending on our travel pace, the presence unmarked landslides, and the temperments of local hornet-bears," as an afterthought. Admittedly, he didn't yet know what a hornet-bear was or why their temperment was so important to calculating travel times, but the information had shown up in at least four of the databases he checked, and no amount of self-doubt would stop Gray from trusting his intuition and deciding that he didn't really need to know.
Tapfic
Sleeping
Red- Combat Specialist
Location: Group B
Interactions: Lisa
Allcure
, Loren
ManhattanIV
, Cerus
Klown
, Xersai
Uniko
"What's the big deal anyway, does this 'fruit' make you immortal or something?"
A stray pebble crossed her path , so of course she kicked it. Red eyes watched with the amusement of a cat batting at an injured mouse as it landed, bouncing twice before landing in a stray thicket.
" Nah, but its supposed to be super freaking good!" The sentence would have done well to end there.
" I heard it tastes like an or-" Red's thick black boot caught on a jutting stone wedged firmly in the ground, the trap that lay hundreds of years in waiting sending her stumbling for a moment before she could finish the vulgar description. As though the rock was enacting a swift vengeance on her for the cruelty towards that poor stray pebble moments before.
“Don’t worry, Red; maybe if you weren’t so slow you could’ve stolen some fruit before our guest, but that’s alright- there’s always next time!”
Oh Loren. You stupid thing.
Red's rounded brows nit, her smile curling at the corners as she brought herself up from the stumble, correcting her posture and putting a swing back into her step.
" HA HA HA," The laughter was loud and dubiously genuine, " You're so funny Loren! I'm assuming that was a joke!"
The praise was emphasized by a firm slap on the man's back, hard enough to sting- or at least that was what Red was aiming for.
" Actually pissing myself right now-" This tone was most defiantly sarcasm. An overly animated, theatrical version of it; but sarcasm none the less.
The human's attention was grabbed away just as quickly as it always had been when a new shiny topic was introduced. Like a tiger in a cage being offered a pumpkin full of ground beef and loosing interest in its old toys.
Aforementioned pumpkin being the fact Cerus started mumbling about money and stuff, dragging her little mind back to the task at hand.
" Eh, don't worry about it so much- worst comes to worst we can sell scantily clad pin-up calendars of you guys," this was not the first time Red suggested this, and it would not be the last.
" Then we can get all this Mulimuli and have it to snack on too! "
A thought seemed to cross her mind , face scrunching in concentration as she mulled it over.
" Oh.. But Cole is all metal... maybe we could tape one on? "
"So for the sake of my sanity and the small remaining respect I still have for you all, I am going to choose to pretend I did not just hear you say you were planning to steal our paying clients order."
" Just a lil' bit," Red offered the small, admittedly weak defense.
" A smidgen," She was never good at retorting when it came to the co-founder; but she was a hot lady with a hot sense of style, so it should have been expected.
Red listened absently as the boss continued to bite into the crew, infamous lecture hot and ready at the grill- when her ears were abruptly filled with a sharp and sudden screech of pain. Filling the distant air and dissapearing just as quickly as it had come.
The combat specialist followed her boss's example and slowed pace, eyes scanning the surrounding vegetation for sign of movement. Or any other sign of what perhapse was a very large alien monster thing.
It took less than a breath for twin poles to be yanked from her pack, chains rattling as they fell to her sides.
"I'd like to believe I was not the only one who heard that, right?"
" Nah, you're totally going crazy Xai," Red continued to joke as her ears followed the quiet rustle of moving leaves.
" Hearing things? Yeah, should probably get that checked out. "
Location: Group B
Interactions: Lisa
Allcure
, Loren
ManhattanIV
, Cerus
Klown
, Xersai
Uniko
"What's the big deal anyway, does this 'fruit' make you immortal or something?"
A stray pebble crossed her path , so of course she kicked it. Red eyes watched with the amusement of a cat batting at an injured mouse as it landed, bouncing twice before landing in a stray thicket.
" Nah, but its supposed to be super freaking good!" The sentence would have done well to end there.
" I heard it tastes like an or-" Red's thick black boot caught on a jutting stone wedged firmly in the ground, the trap that lay hundreds of years in waiting sending her stumbling for a moment before she could finish the vulgar description. As though the rock was enacting a swift vengeance on her for the cruelty towards that poor stray pebble moments before.
“Don’t worry, Red; maybe if you weren’t so slow you could’ve stolen some fruit before our guest, but that’s alright- there’s always next time!”
Oh Loren. You stupid thing.
Red's rounded brows nit, her smile curling at the corners as she brought herself up from the stumble, correcting her posture and putting a swing back into her step.
" HA HA HA," The laughter was loud and dubiously genuine, " You're so funny Loren! I'm assuming that was a joke!"
The praise was emphasized by a firm slap on the man's back, hard enough to sting- or at least that was what Red was aiming for.
" Actually pissing myself right now-" This tone was most defiantly sarcasm. An overly animated, theatrical version of it; but sarcasm none the less.
The human's attention was grabbed away just as quickly as it always had been when a new shiny topic was introduced. Like a tiger in a cage being offered a pumpkin full of ground beef and loosing interest in its old toys.
Aforementioned pumpkin being the fact Cerus started mumbling about money and stuff, dragging her little mind back to the task at hand.
" Eh, don't worry about it so much- worst comes to worst we can sell scantily clad pin-up calendars of you guys," this was not the first time Red suggested this, and it would not be the last.
" Then we can get all this Mulimuli and have it to snack on too! "
A thought seemed to cross her mind , face scrunching in concentration as she mulled it over.
" Oh.. But Cole is all metal... maybe we could tape one on? "
"So for the sake of my sanity and the small remaining respect I still have for you all, I am going to choose to pretend I did not just hear you say you were planning to steal our paying clients order."
" Just a lil' bit," Red offered the small, admittedly weak defense.
" A smidgen," She was never good at retorting when it came to the co-founder; but she was a hot lady with a hot sense of style, so it should have been expected.
Red listened absently as the boss continued to bite into the crew, infamous lecture hot and ready at the grill- when her ears were abruptly filled with a sharp and sudden screech of pain. Filling the distant air and dissapearing just as quickly as it had come.
The combat specialist followed her boss's example and slowed pace, eyes scanning the surrounding vegetation for sign of movement. Or any other sign of what perhapse was a very large alien monster thing.
It took less than a breath for twin poles to be yanked from her pack, chains rattling as they fell to her sides.
"I'd like to believe I was not the only one who heard that, right?"
" Nah, you're totally going crazy Xai," Red continued to joke as her ears followed the quiet rustle of moving leaves.
" Hearing things? Yeah, should probably get that checked out. "
Ayan
Cat Girl Extraordinaire
- One on One
- Group
- Dice
- Quests
- Nation Building
- Off-site
Feliak Mechanic
Mayarr Nezeuki
#5A6F76
Re'saq, Group A
That had gone far better than Maya could have ever hoped for. Instead of getting hit in the face, he had fallen flat on the ground and managed to take Zad with him. Her tail flicked in amusement and she let out a delighted purr, her version of a laugh. She turned around and started walking backwards, her tail swaying close to the ground, mapping it out for her so she kept her footing. It was completely unfair how easily and casually she navigated this place.
"You know, you two should probably watch your step, you're making yourself look like thoprinaks."
You didn't need to know the language to tell she insulted them, the fact that actually translating what she said would have absurdly bad grammar also didn't bother her, that was the case most times she included Feliak in her casual speech. She then had the audacity to make herself even more comfortable by linking her hands and placing them on the back of her head, elbows extended upwards and to her sides. Despite that, her face seemed serious, as did her tone. There were very few people who played poker with her twice.
"Lotier if I know. I mean who even actually eats fruit? Slimy and all mushy, egh. Plus they go awful with spice, vegetables I can understand, peppers too, but why subjugate yourself to fruit when you could just have some flavored nutrient paste or something. Seriously, someone who regularly eats fruit shouldn't be trusted, ever."
She kept her gaze on Arii for the tangent. As always, it was hard to tell if he was serious about disdaining fruit, or was just fucking with the new guy. And yes, she knew the crew well enough to know this addition was probably gonna be permanent. Her ears swiveled slightly as Zad butchered her name.
"Well, don't know who the riri that is. But I can climb the tree, funny as it would be to watch some of you lot try and fail for a few hours, I do have shit I need to do on the ship. I'd be calling you in for a head check if you weren't gonna have me climb, honestly."
Feliaks normally could climb before they could run, their entire body was pretty much built for it, especially climbing trees.
Code by Serobliss
ManhattanIV
Yeehaw
- One on One
- Off-site
code: @s e v e n
The shock of laughter from the redhead should have been alarming to the Dalaxian, but he's always been told laughter is a green-lit indicator of success so he's about as pleased as can be. The ever-present grin on his face morphs a bit into confusion, as he had not been joking but he takes the compliment in stride! Loren is usually the last of the crewmen to comprehend a joke so its nice for once, being in on it! Even if he doesn't quite understand but his spirit is nonetheless exuberant.
For someone as wholly intimidating as Red; the human is after all the average size of a child, she sure packed a punch- slap? Loren had been a far cry from a touchy creature prior to his time aboard their motley crew, the whole premise of interaction on his planet assuring death and whatnot, but he has been quick to adapt to the ways of humans. He supposes among other planets and creatures that such contact would warrant a casualty, but he's found it was an all-too-common occurrence with a distinct lack of threatened death. He's been that it's a fond measure of comradery, and in fact he has grown rather accustomed to expecting such rough physical interaction; especially from Red.
The slap between his shoulders does not unseat his posture as much as the spunky human may have preferred, but the Dalaxian is as amicable and frankly oblivious as he typically is, a sharp-toothed grin broad on his face as his eyes crinkle and his feet stagger to keep himself from stumbling ass over teakettle. The rattle of his proton beam is obnoxious, as is the manner of his booted feet disturbing the underbrush following his brief derailment, but he is quick to settle back into his unbothered stroll.
The verbal and visual dressing down from Xersai brings more vigor than sheepfulness to the alien, but he seems keen to abide regardless. "Right on, Madam X! Consider encouragement null." Red meets yellow with sincerity, though sincerity does not mean a lot to the Dalaxian and certainly not to their co-founder, who prefers results to ramblings.
Sarcasm is a bit easier for the alien to grasp, though he forfeits a response in favor of continuing his rotating observance of the vibrant colors of flora surrounding the entourage. Loren takes more amusement in Red's jab at Cerus, a snicker parting his lips as he directs the blood-shine of his eyes over his shoulder to focus on the object of Red's remarks. "We never got to distribute the centennial holiday cards last year, y'know cuz' of that whole Sector 12 incident. A calendar would be great!" So the alien does get jokes, if only sometimes at least. Finances never really concerned the alien, not because it wasn't his job but he really saw no need for monetary confirmation. Everything he needed was typically provided; what more did he need than what the ship had stocked? You'd never spot the weapons specialist fretting like Cerus, though it was dubious if he comprehended the concept of money at this point.
So Xersai's quip about paychecks and cuts had about the same effect as anything else, precisely nothing but a blank grin and a bob of his head if only to show he was listening even if his attention was scattered haphazardly to the wind.
Attention which was quick to hone at the sudden eruption of a rendition of a screech not far to their right. His footfalls are quick to cut short, in line with their co-founder as the two had been walking prior. He makes no move yet to retrieve the particle beam from its lackadaisical sling across his back, though his fingers curl loose into his palms with budding adrenaline.
He cocks his head briefly, strands of blood-red brushing his ear as equally red eyes scan the approximate source of such a sound. "Sounds to be about a fourth of a klick out. Not really sure what is it, though." Safety is not typically a concern, not with the caliber of his crewmates and the fact that their combat specialist is currently saddled with Group B, but Loren is far more curious than anything else. The foliage does pose a problem though; the shared unfamiliarity of this planet and the lack os visibility don't really spell anything but trouble.
"Advised plan of action?"
Loren is content to let leadership dictate a course of action; he's not one to rally nor command the troops.
Loren is content to let leadership dictate a course of action; he's not one to rally nor command the troops.
For someone as wholly intimidating as Red; the human is after all the average size of a child, she sure packed a punch- slap? Loren had been a far cry from a touchy creature prior to his time aboard their motley crew, the whole premise of interaction on his planet assuring death and whatnot, but he has been quick to adapt to the ways of humans. He supposes among other planets and creatures that such contact would warrant a casualty, but he's found it was an all-too-common occurrence with a distinct lack of threatened death. He's been that it's a fond measure of comradery, and in fact he has grown rather accustomed to expecting such rough physical interaction; especially from Red.
The slap between his shoulders does not unseat his posture as much as the spunky human may have preferred, but the Dalaxian is as amicable and frankly oblivious as he typically is, a sharp-toothed grin broad on his face as his eyes crinkle and his feet stagger to keep himself from stumbling ass over teakettle. The rattle of his proton beam is obnoxious, as is the manner of his booted feet disturbing the underbrush following his brief derailment, but he is quick to settle back into his unbothered stroll.
The verbal and visual dressing down from Xersai brings more vigor than sheepfulness to the alien, but he seems keen to abide regardless. "Right on, Madam X! Consider encouragement null." Red meets yellow with sincerity, though sincerity does not mean a lot to the Dalaxian and certainly not to their co-founder, who prefers results to ramblings.
Sarcasm is a bit easier for the alien to grasp, though he forfeits a response in favor of continuing his rotating observance of the vibrant colors of flora surrounding the entourage. Loren takes more amusement in Red's jab at Cerus, a snicker parting his lips as he directs the blood-shine of his eyes over his shoulder to focus on the object of Red's remarks. "We never got to distribute the centennial holiday cards last year, y'know cuz' of that whole Sector 12 incident. A calendar would be great!" So the alien does get jokes, if only sometimes at least. Finances never really concerned the alien, not because it wasn't his job but he really saw no need for monetary confirmation. Everything he needed was typically provided; what more did he need than what the ship had stocked? You'd never spot the weapons specialist fretting like Cerus, though it was dubious if he comprehended the concept of money at this point.
So Xersai's quip about paychecks and cuts had about the same effect as anything else, precisely nothing but a blank grin and a bob of his head if only to show he was listening even if his attention was scattered haphazardly to the wind.
Attention which was quick to hone at the sudden eruption of a rendition of a screech not far to their right. His footfalls are quick to cut short, in line with their co-founder as the two had been walking prior. He makes no move yet to retrieve the particle beam from its lackadaisical sling across his back, though his fingers curl loose into his palms with budding adrenaline.
He cocks his head briefly, strands of blood-red brushing his ear as equally red eyes scan the approximate source of such a sound. "Sounds to be about a fourth of a klick out. Not really sure what is it, though." Safety is not typically a concern, not with the caliber of his crewmates and the fact that their combat specialist is currently saddled with Group B, but Loren is far more curious than anything else. The foliage does pose a problem though; the shared unfamiliarity of this planet and the lack os visibility don't really spell anything but trouble.
"Advised plan of action?"
Loren is content to let leadership dictate a course of action; he's not one to rally nor command the troops.
Loren is content to let leadership dictate a course of action; he's not one to rally nor command the troops.
IDKnuggets
Chicken Nugget
- Group
- Off-site
Colton Galloway
A hum escaped Cole's lips as the stowaway dropped down, narrowly avoiding the vine Mayarr had sent their way. The cyborg was momentarily impressed by their quick reaction. The admiration was short lived though as they kept going, folding backwards over themselves and tumbling right into Zad.
As the pair fell Colton paused in his steps, snickering as he eyed the mess of limbs splayed out before him. Maya's little trick had worked out even better than planned, it would seem. “Fraternizing with the enemy, captain?” He asked, the emphasis placed on the last word lacking no small amount of sarcasm.
Orange eyes shifted back to the thief as they rose, amusement clear on Cole’s face. “Dropping ye' off would be a gift tae ya'. Longer you’re stuck putting up with us, more the mistake ye’ve made can really settle in” he answered with a chuckle.
Cole straightened up a tick as Zad confirmed their destination wasn’t much further. Finally, they could get what they needed and get out of this god-forsaken jungle. “Thank space Jesus, let’s get moving then. I wasnae kidding about that snack” he exclaimed, flourishing robotic hands above his head.
The white-haired cyborg turned his attention to Gray, blinking twice before responding despite not needing to blink at all. “Now, I know we’ve done all of those things separately… but all on the same planet? Really?” he questioned with the slightest tilt of the head. “Was tha' Binarr? I was pretty out of it on Binarr” he wondered, tapping a finger against his cheek bone thoughtfully. “Also, I donnae pay my lawyer. He’s a shite lawyer” Colton added, taking a moment to swat away some small flying bug before turning back to Gray and finishing with, “I self represent, o' course”
That single sentence explained so much about Cole’s past escapades, really. Especially the number of times he had needed to be busted out of jail, a sturdy thirty and counting between his time with Kade Galloway and aboard the Avius. That, and his story about a fist fight with one Judge Hawthorne of the colony Nuricc. There was one place Cole would never set foot again- one of many, really.
His ears pricked up as Gray went on with more of his boring navigator talk, zeroing in on one specific thing the fellow cyborg had said. “The hell is a hornet bear,” Cole asked loudly, mechanical eyes lighting up a smidge as they scanned the surrounding jungle, “and where can I get one?”
Bright orange eyes leapt to Mayarr, returning to a more neutral glow after a moment. “Oi,” the Scotsman protested, “I can climb a tree!” his eyes stayed on her for a moment, then metallic fingers tapped against his chin in thought as his head titled from side to side. “But ah, I’ll let you dae it. You are the expert, after all”
With- Group A
Mentions- Arii, Gray, Maya, Zad
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