Futuristic Unlit IC

[Solar Daddy]

In the blink of an eye, Stratton's knife pressed to Anro's throat with his hand - clutching his pistol tight - was pushed just out of the way so he couldn't fire on the Waning Stars liaison. Anro let out some mix of a grunt and a squeal, the noise clearly instantly lowering his respect to those around him. He tried covering it up with another, much more practiced and deep grunt of frustration, but the damage was done. "Get your hands off me!" Anro said, though he didn't dare move a muscle with the serrated blade pressed to his skin.

Behind Stratton, the two Sols aimed their guns at his back though also refused to make any movements. Not only did they risk getting their boss's throat slit should they open fire, but the bullets could easily pass through Stratton and hit Anro. They wouldn't just have failed to save their boss, but could actively cause his death if they weren't careful. For now, they waited to listen for Anro's orders.

The real Aidan Omithir, standing just off to the right of Anro, let out a cry of frustration before suddenly grabbing his own gun and readying it on Stratton.

"Wait, wait you fucking dolt!" Anro called out, flinching against Stratton's knife. "You'll send me to the Stars too, cool it! You, whoever the hell you are-" He said to Stratton, letting his pistol drop to the ground with a thud on the soft carpet. "Consider us even, yeah? Don't fuck up my friend's identity and toss it once you're done, yeah? Then we pretend this never happened and we all go our separate ways."

A moment after Anro finished speaking, the shutters overlooking the party suddenly snapped shut, cutting out all light from the balcony and thelights to the room suddenly shorted out. One bulb even blew, letting sparks shower over Aidan and causing even more confusion. Silas had finally worked his way through the control panel outside the door and forced the distraction, buying Stratton valuable time, should he want to flee without bloodshed. Otherwise, if he felt too threatened by letting them live, he could try dealing with them now, with his pitch black surroundings and his two teammates to help.

Viper Actual

---

Sam was more than comfortable leaning in to the size and skill of the Zirzolan's dancing, going along with his flow with expert precision. From how smooth and calculated his efforts were, it was clear this man had spent far more time dancing than just about anyone else on the floor. Where others had sloppy waves through their bodies or paced footwork attempting to time with the beat, Sam's moves were effortless and seemingly weightless, like he was floating in zero gravity with nothing to tie him down. Most used modern cosmetic work to remain forever young, but it seemed Sam was either against the use of such frivolous surgery, or he simply enjoyed staying with the appearance of an older man; his visage stood out among the contrasting blue and green hues, where most others hand their soft cheeks and smooth skin reflect the light perfectly. Sam, on the other hand, had light wrinkles and well worn skin that showed his wise, aged years.

As Qyilim gripped Sam's wrist, the older gentleman rolled with it like the flow of water. Whenever they made contact, Sam's independent dance moves became a joint effort, flexing into Qyilim's style with professional skill.

"I'm no stranger to metal," Sam mentioned with a smirk. He incorporated a sly gesture in his dance, where he lifted his pant leg just enough to show the robotic machinery of his calf, with at least 3 moving piecing visibly working to produce his movements. He just as quickly let the fabric drop and went back to his practiced moves. "I like your style, Qyilim. Do you dance often, or did you bust out these moves just for me?"

More than once, holographic dancers passed by - or through - the couple, and more than once these AI visages inquired if Qyilim wanted a partner to dance with, completely disregarding Sam's existence. He didn't seem phased; these holograms didn't register Sam at all. He simply waited for Qyilim to deny the AI and resumed dancing with him immediately.

"Sorry about the virtual dancers; they're programmed to seek out... uncommon types. The ship's AI probably didn't pick up any other Zirzolans in the crowd, so it's overcompensating by sending you endless virtual entertainment. It's in good faith, I promise you, but sometimes the execution can feel..." He paused as another AI stopped by to check in on Qyilim. "...Overbearing. You wouldn't believe how often I see it at these venues."

0stinato

 

[Viper Actual]

"Consider us even, yeah? Don't fuck up my friend's identity and toss it once you're done, yeah? Then we pretend this never happened and we all go our separate ways."

Smirking ever so slightly, Stratton gave Anro an appreciative nod. "Smart man, smarter than you look actually." He glanced at the real Aidan standing besides him, transforming his smirk into a foreboding grin. Just then the shutters went down and the lights were flicked off.

"I'll be in touch," said Stratton. "And remember: We have eyes everywhere."

Before anyone could answer Anro would feel the literal pressure ease up as Stratton vanished out into the club. He gave Silas and Adira a curt nod before disappearing into the nearest crowd of partygoers, losing his suit jacket while grabbing a new, unattended one, from a nearby table before re-orientating himself to his surroundings.

With that ordeal done Stratton- no, Aidan Omithir- did his best to resume his observations, hoping he would be at the right place at the right time whenever the auction did begin.

Solar Daddy Dragongal

 

[Solar Daddy]

After their short excursion to assist Stratton, Silas and Adira separated to keep tabs on their various allies spread out through the commons. It didn't take long - almost instantly, to be frank - to see the massing crowd refusing to give Chanterelle and Miles any space in their small corner of the party. Dozens of flashes from cameras strobed the far end like a lightshow, standing out even in the array of colors and spots illuminating the entire venue. Silas barely knew Chante, but the girl screamed the opposite of "people person," so he figured he'd try and rescue the poor Isonaut from her binds.

Pushing his way through the crowd with more than a couple disgruntled paparazzi in his wake, Side Burns burst through the wave of people and crossed the barely present gap between the "artist" and her adoring fans. Many made complaints about invading her privacy, as if standing mere feet away was much better, but they refrained from closing in just as Silas had, for now.

He provided a nod to Miles, already well acquainted with the rogue, but clasped onto Chante's bracers. "Hey, everything fine over here? You've really drawn a crowd..." Silas glanced back to the adoring fans, a grimace crossing his face. "Surprised you haven't been trampled already by those fanatics. Would one of the quiet bars on the upper floors be more your place?"

Silas asked purely out of empathy; he detested large groups, even this venue alone was enough to get his nerves acting up. But an entire crowd drawn to you? That was Silas' worst nightmare.

Daisie

---

While Sam and Qyilim danced their hearts away, the music eventually dampened and gave way to some slower beats. Sam, clearly on the older side, ground to a halt after a short delay of the song change. "Forgive me, but a man only has so many moves." He exhaled heavily and leaned returned to the bar where Qyilim had originally found him. "Forgive my sudden crass nature, but I'm not one to mince words. I've got a room on the upper floors for some more refined conversation, if you'd be interested." Even while out of breath, Sam's demeanor was practiced and flawless, as in-his-element as a Ruko in water. The glance he gave to Qyilim was all but universal in meaning.

0stinato

 

[Dragongal]

He provided a nod to Miles, already well acquainted with the rogue, but clasped onto Chante's bracers. "Hey, everything fine over here? You've really drawn a crowd..." Silas glanced back to the adoring fans, a grimace crossing his face. "Surprised you haven't been trampled already by those fanatics. Would one of the quiet bars on the upper floors be more your place?"

Oh thank the STARS. The cameras wouldn't stop flashing and Miles, while very photogenic, was not willing to be photographed in this moment. He moved to have his back toward the crowd as much as he could, keeping his avoidance of the crowd discreet. He had tried to use his "security guard" persona to make people back off, but he was hesitant to properly pull the trigger because, well... protecting an artist's privacy wasn't part of the security team's job. In fact, they had practically been encouraged to allow and enable such fanaticism as long as it didn't get too bad and there was no literal trampling risk.

The whole time he kept a pleasant smile on his face, pretending to catch up with his old friend, chatting idly and lightly about things that never happened. His pulse was increasing, but that was fine, he was charming and sweet and such good conversation, wasn't he? It was his job, after all.

He had made a few concerned glances toward Silas, and now he saw he was relieved from duty. He sighed heavily past the smile plastered on his face and mumbled, "Thanks, boss," and with a friendly nod toward both Chanterelle and Silas, he disappeared off into the crowd.

He gave Silas and Adira a curt nod before disappearing into the nearest crowd of partygoers, losing his suit jacket while grabbing a new, unattended one, from a nearby table before re-orientating himself to his surroundings.

With that ordeal done Stratton- no, Aidan Omithir- did his best to resume his observations, hoping he would be at the right place at the right time whenever the auction did begin.

The next victim for his harassment: the old man. Miles walked over to lean beside Stratton against a tall raised table. As much as it was faked casual, he really did need to lean on the table to try to slow his heartrate back down. It was easier to fake smiles when his heart wasn't in his throat. He casually checked his watch, flicking through various fake notifications as he sighed heavily and commented to the taller man, "Celebrities, y'know? I'm not even envious of 'em, just look at that," with a pointed glance toward the commotion around Chanterelle. "Everyone wants to ask her about her recent pieces of art, she can't catch a breath."

He shrugged and commented, "But, y'know. I'm pretty Ambivalent about it." As much fun as it would be to continue to tease the man, Miles knew better than to risk spooking a WS agent. It was also a good way to indicate that everything he had said about Chante was a discreet way of saying she was safe, because everyone was completely buying into her ruse.

Viper Actual

 

[Daisie]

Those lights. They were horrendous.

It wasn't something Chanterelle had anticipated. How could she miss that there would be flash photography? It had started partway into her and Miles's conversation, and she realized that half of the things he was saying to her, she had completely missed. She had difficulty grasping them even as they came. All she really did was smile and nod. Erm, uh... nod, anyways. With the occasional vocal affirmation and gesture thrown in for flair.

It was then that a familiar face finally squirmed through the crowds, and "familiar" was saying a lot for Chanterelle. Not many people could sport a beard like that, and it worked very greatly in her favour in this case.

He greeted her. He commented... something-or-other about the crowds - stars, those lights were really doing something to her. She had been doing okay, hadn't she? It became difficult to tell the more those garish flashes pierced her visor. It was a second later that she suddenly realized that Silas had grabbed onto her bracers as a gesture.

Her response was a reactionary yank away, and a slight step backwards. Though it wasn't nearly as dramatic as she had been acting, it was far more genuine. The movement, though short and understated, locked many gazes towards the two instantly.

Nonetheless, she persisted.

"A-Ah! Mr. Umber! Careful, this is a-art, you know." Her voice was soaked with that exhibitionist lilt, miraculous considering her regular tone was dryer than Kilo. There was something underneath it, though. Like it was beginning to hoarsen and skip, caught in the pressure. "H-How have you been?"

She leaned in attentively, as if to better hear "Mr. Umber" over the ambient noise, but as she did, the barest and quietest of voices mumbled through.

"yes, please."

Solar Daddy

 

[Viper Actual]

"But, y'know. I'm pretty Ambivalent about it."

Aidan Omithir slowly turned towards the newcomer, offering him a long and cold look. He stared at Miles for a few seconds, allowing the silence- of the conversation- to settle before responding.

Stratton's expression cracked, revealing a toothy grin. He raised the glass in his hand towards Chanterelle just as Silas swooped in to aid the walking tank of a crewmate. "She's an extraordinary woman," he said. "Of course there'd be a crowd."

Suddenly the envoys expression hardened once more as he glanced towards Miles;

"So," he began, eyes suddenly cold. "Was that some sorry attempt at a pass-phrase or do I have to quietly slit your throat right here and now and hope that nobody notice?" Stratton then smiled and slapped Miles on the shoulder, as if the other man had just told a joke.

"I'd pick my next words very carefully if I were you," Stratton said, still smiling.

Dragongal

 

[Dragongal]

"Was that some sorry attempt at a pass-phrase or do I have to quietly slit your throat right here and now and hope that nobody notice?"

Miles laughed, a grin gracing his lips as he tipped his head back toward Stratton, playing along with the envoy's outward show that they were friendly. He took it a step further, leaning in toward the taller man in an almost affectionate and flirty manner. "Such harsh words for a first time meeting," he chuckled, then added, a sultry smile still on his lips, "You wouldn't want to kill your ace in the hole, come on now.... At least buy me a drink first."

How was it that his heartrate was stabilizing now, calmer when threatened with death, than when in front of all of those cameras? Oh right, he reminded himself, he was just messed up at this point.

Miles stood up straight again and leaned against the table with a sigh, his eyes moving over the crowd and again finding the location of his new companions, counting them off in his head as he idly replied, "Silas gave me some loose descriptions of you... Aidan?" Miles had made sure to commit their cover names to memory. He smiled again, a calmer and more friendly manner though his eyes were still on the spectacle of Chanterelle, "Better that it's me coming here and bothering you than some random guest getting bored and flirting with you. And, we both get to keep an eye on the party. Gotta say, you found a real good vantage point."

Viper Actual

 

[Viper Actual]

The affectionate and even warm response was a clear distraction- as well as an indicator that this stranger was no mere eavesdropper. No, this was a man who seemed to be able to keep his nerves in check and as such Stratton would have to tread very carefully. He stared at the man, expression unflinching.

"Silas gave me some loose descriptions of you... Aidan?"

Silas!

Stratton masked his reaction, showing perhaps the slightest of twitching or muscle-tension in his face in response. After a brief moment of thought his warm smiled returned. "Ah, yes, that's correct." His hand skillfully transitioned from Miles' shoulder and down between them, inviting the other man to a handshake.

"Aidan Omithir, at your service."

While still slightly tense Stratton did his best to mask his body language and appear as unbothered as possible. Internally though he was ready to sweep the floor with the man in front of him in the event that he gave him a reason to do so.

"You must be our secret friend, yes?"

Dragongal

 

[Solar Daddy]

Silas had to flinch one eye shut occasionally as the flashes lit up half his face sporadically. He'd spent more of his life soldering, welding and stripping ships than he did talking with others, but at least then he had a shield to block the intrusive bursts of light. "In all honesty, I've been good, and I'd be doing better with some privacy. Let's move up to C-deck. We have a lot of catching up to do." Silas was certain no one could listen in on their conversation from the crowd, but it didn't hurt to keep up appearances for the time being. Not to mention, they'd only be here a short while longer. Adira would take care of the auction soon and they'd all be out of the limelight without a trace. They could all keep up the charade a bit longer.

Electing not to touch Chante this time after learning from her initial reaction to him, Silas simply walked away, intending on the red-ified Chanterelle to follow suit. As he passed through the less dense parts of the ginormous crowd, Silas tried scratching off some of the dried red paint he'd gotten on his palm from touching Chante's gauntlet, but few specks came off. Where Among the Stars did Chante get it from?

They were hounded by a few especially tedious individuals - Sarcond included - all the way up to the glass lift that would take them up to C-deck. There, Silas turned around and stiffened his body just as he stepped in and kept the snobs outside the doors of the elevator. "Don't make this a problem. Give the lady some space." His voice was more gruff than he intended, but that didn't seem to hurt the appearance he was going for. The snobs each stuttered their retorts just long enough for the lift's doors to close. He glared down at Sarcond without flinching as the doors met right in front of his face.

"Well, let's hope they don't -" Silas attempted to turn back to Chanterelle, but abruptly halted with a groan. "What the-?" He glanced down and furrowed his brow at the strands of his facial hair stuck in the door, with the engineer having to lower his head a bit to keep from tugging on the hairs.

"Ugh. Just my luck."

Daisie

 

[Dragongal]

There was the realization. Good, Miles hadn't overestimated Stratton's intelligence. He shook his hand firmly, "Miles, at yours." A second later and his slit-pupiled eyes were back on the crowd, picking his friends out easily in the dim light. "That I am. Keeping an eye on everything and everyone is my job first and foremost, blending in is the second aspect. The other employment details aren't relevant just yet." That being the heist itself. That part would come soon enough.

He reached out and plucked a champagne flute off the platter of a passing waiter and sipped at the bubbly, bitter drink. It never tasted very good on its own, it needed orange juice or, really, anything added to it. But the way he drank it without a flinch could have convinced someone it was his favorite drink.

"How have you enjoyed the gala so far? Seems everyone's night is going very differently but... well, I at least hope people are enjoying it as much as they can." Miles had already seen one of his future team members dancing with an older gentleman, but poor Chanterelle was having quite the dramatic evening. Given that they all had no clue what could happen after the heist, it was good if they could try to enjoy the evening. Miles was always very firm about getting adequate downtime between missions and enjoying things when possible.

 

[0stinato]

Qyilim had heard - and offered - invitations more straightforward than the one Sam was implying. He was certainly giving the word ‘proposition’ its due definition. Oh well. What was a man in such surroundings to do? The environment dictated the invitation, and while Qyilim was not used to engaging with those who would show duplicity before honour in the sordid world of business dealings and high-class investment opportunities, he was able to respect Sam’s attempts to be equally coy. Even down to the language.

In truth, Sam didn’t need to say anything at all. The psionics he was emitting were doing all the telling for him.

Qyilim leaned against the bar with a flick of his head, pushing his braids back behind his shoulders. He took the opportunity to glance around, seeking out the locations of his companions but, upon noticing the paint-engulfed Chanterelle, decided he didn’t need to devote brain space to remembering where they all were: provided he could find her later, he’d find the others.

Looking back at Sam, he raised an eyebrow and parted his lips in a smile, musing over the difference in stamina between them both.

He leaned in and put a lilt into his tone. Sam could lay down the gauntlet of euphemism, but Qyilim wasn’t looking to put layers on.

‘Let us take the elevator,’ he said. ‘Save your energy for me.’

--
Interactions: Solar Daddy
Mentions: Daisie

 

[Viper Actual]

"That I am. Keeping an eye on everything and everyone is my job first and foremost, blending in is the second aspect. The other employment details aren't relevant just yet."

"Interesting," said Stratton as Miles spoke. He didn't exactly trust the man's word- not yet at least- though the odds of him being some sort of plant from a non-WS intelligence agency seemed remarkably low.

He took a sip from his drink before answering; "It's been an evening of surprises and newfound friends. Exciting, to say the least. Though I must say that the Coronation is quite impressive as well, a great deal more elegant than the usual tugboats and cargo ships I usually find myself travelling aboard."

Stratton paused and gave Miles a quick glance before resuming his seemingly idle observation of the other partygoers. "I just hope that this evening goes as planned. I myself have invested a great deal to make sure that it does."

"How has the evening been for you thus far?" He asked, shifting both the attention and focus over to Miles.

Dragongal

 

[Dragongal]

"How has the evening been for you thus far?"

Miles nods to himself. He also had quite a lot invested in tonight going well. As in... almost everything. But it wouldn't do to dwell on that now. So he smiled lackadaisically and said, "What, an evening on board a beautiful ship surrounded by beautiful people and free drinks, what's there not to love?"

His eyes focused on Chanterelle for a moment before going back to finding everyone. "Besides the cameras on our poor friend, that was much less than ideal." He tracked Adira in the crowd, Silas... and Qyilim was walking away. Oh, oh that was why he was walking away. Miles bit back a smirk and looked over at Stratton. "It'll be fine though, I'm sure. Just get this... part. I'm not sure why we need to do all of this for a part but, well, he gives the orders and I follow them." He wasn't sure about name dropping Silas any more than he already had, so he elected to just refer to him vaguely.

Miles looked over at Stratton. "You seem like a respectable kind of person. How did you get all involved in this group?"

 

[Daisie]

Silas had to flinch one eye shut occasionally as the flashes lit up half his face sporadically. He'd spent more of his life soldering, welding and stripping ships than he did talking with others, but at least then he had a shield to block the intrusive bursts of light. "In all honesty, I've been good, and I'd be doing better with some privacy. Let's move up to C-deck. We have a lot of catching up to do." Silas was certain no one could listen in on their conversation from the crowd, but it didn't hurt to keep up appearances for the time being. Not to mention, they'd only be here a short while longer. Adira would take care of the auction soon and they'd all be out of the limelight without a trace. They could all keep up the charade a bit longer.

Electing not to touch Chante this time after learning from her initial reaction to him, Silas simply walked away, intending on the red-ified Chanterelle to follow suit. As he passed through the less dense parts of the ginormous crowd, Silas tried scratching off some of the dried red paint he'd gotten on his palm from touching Chante's gauntlet, but few specks came off. Where Among the Stars did Chante get it from?

They were hounded by a few especially tedious individuals - Sarcond included - all the way up to the glass lift that would take them up to C-deck. There, Silas turned around and stiffened his body just as he stepped in and kept the snobs outside the doors of the elevator. "Don't make this a problem. Give the lady some space." His voice was more gruff than he intended, but that didn't seem to hurt the appearance he was going for. The snobs each stuttered their retorts just long enough for the lift's doors to close. He glared down at Sarcond without flinching as the doors met right in front of his face.

"Well, let's hope they don't -" Silas attempted to turn back to Chanterelle, but abruptly halted with a groan. "What the-?" He glanced down and furrowed his brow at the strands of his facial hair stuck in the door, with the engineer having to lower his head a bit to keep from tugging on the hairs.

"Ugh. Just my luck."

Daisie

Chanterelle's long-standing mission to relax even one time wasn't helped when Slithering Sarcond stuck close enough that she wondered if he was trying to wedge himself into her suit. At the first chance she got, she retreated into the elevator, but not without doing a half-job at covering up her haste as she slipped through while the doors were only partly open.

As she took to the corner and watched Silas tell Sarcond off, she had to admit, she was both impressed and very grateful. Part of her hoped his firmness wouldn't arouse suspicion, but at the same time, she hardly found it within her to care. She was only focused on recovering from the crowds and the lights... of which she was disappointed she couldn't handle as well as she anticipated.

It took her a few long seconds to recover, and by the time she did, she found herself... very briefly confused as to why Silas was still standing face-first at the exit. As soon as she recognized his trouble, she approached to help, but paused to inspect the situation through her visor for a few moments before just, uh...

Reaching in and yanking the hairs from the door. Like gracefully tearing out a fistful of flowers from a field.

Solar Daddy

 

[Solar Daddy]

‘Let us take the elevator,’ he said. ‘Save your energy for me.’

Without another word, Sam returned to his jacket, equipped it over his bent forearm, and snaked through the crowd with elegance and meaning. He had practice moving in a dense crowd before, that was certain. At least once he almost managed to slip from Qyilim's sight, but the larger of the pair managed to keep pace enough. It helped that Qyilim was vastly taller than most he passed. By the time Qyilim reached the elevators, Sam awaited with a slow scratch of his jawline. Up above, the next lift dropped to their floor and the glass parted with a slight woosh. Sam stepped on and keyed the interface, just barely unable to get the doors to shut before a small group of 3 inebriated Sols passed through. Sam and Qyilim were split for the time being on either sides of the walls with the Sols in between. One of them, the smallest and least balanced, spilled a decent slosh of their drink on Qyilim's shoes the moment the elevator went up.

"Haha, wh- whoops! You can keep that," she motioned to the shiny drink across the leather of his shoes. Regardless of Qyilim's response, she turned back to her friends and chatted up a slurred and stuttered storm, with plenty of hollers and explosive motions far too boisterous for the space. All Sam could do from the other side was shrug and smile an apology over at his date.

The elevator stopped at one of the next floors and released the gaggle of Sols out into the wild, slow and meandering like a herd of Loras. While waiting for the doors to shut and take the final two passengers to their destination, Qyilim could look out through the glass into the other lift channels and witness Chanterelle rip Silas' facial hair from the doors. Before he could even begin questioning what he saw, their lift started up again, leaving the engineer and brute behind on the floor below.

"Parties, what can you do, right?" Sam inquired idly to kill time. He clearly hadn't seen the spectacle in the next elevator over. The doors dinged open once more and Sam ushered Qyilim out with him and into one of the endless rooms down the hall. Inside was a sparse, hotel-like single room with two beds, two dressers and a clear shower stall on the corner. An array of three portholes on the far wall let in the lights of countless ships passing by the floating party barge.

"Not exactly home vibes, but its the best you can get at a formal event here." Sam said as he invited Qyilim in. "Please. Make yourself comfortable. Very comfortable."

The door shut behind them and the rest of the world was none the wiser to the business deals going on within.

0stinato

---

Elsewhere in the elevator shenanigan depot, what was just witnessed by the Zirzolan played out.

A second before Chanterelle pulled on his stuck hairs, Silas recognized what she was trying to do and immediately flinched, which did nothing to help him escape her grasp. He let out a rapid "Waitwaitwaitwai-!" as the sound of velcro ripping filled the space. Silas fell back one step, eyes wide, only being held up by Chanterelle holding his beard hairs like he was dangling over the edge of a building. A pause of silence was then followed by the quietest "ooow..."

Once released by the brute beside him, Silas rubbed at his jaw and let out a wider groan as the pain hit him. His skin was on fire, but that was all secondary to the revelation his appearance was forever scarred, or at least for the next few weeks. He glanced at his reflection in the mirror polish of the glass - with a clump of hair sticking out - and stared in horror at the far flung hillbilly staring back at him. He was clearly missing a fistful of his beard, lopsided down at the bottom, like a bite taken out of a cookie. All Chante needed to do was clock him in the mouth so he'd lose a few teeth, and he'd have the complete look.

"Is that what you'd do if your plant's leaf got stuck in a window instead of just, like, opening the window?" Silas' voice was muffled as he held his face in horror. His tone clearly seemed more genuinely puzzled than angry or upset.

Daisie

 

[Daisie]

Chanterelle gave no real reaction to Silas's torment other than a blank-visored stare. If she found his pain or newfound appearance funny at all, she didn't show it. What was obvious though was that she was far more comfortable in the elevator with an ally than out in the fray with a bunch of gawking strangers.

When asked about her plant, Chanterelle absently flicked the hairs off her fingers, sprinkling them to the floor.

"Of course not," she explained, plainly. Her voice had switched back to monotone and unbothered with ease. "That would hurt him-... it."

Somewhere, miles above Chanterelle's head, Silas's point flew by.

That being said, she gave Silas his space as he recovered. A few seconds were only filled with the whirring of the lift, as well as whatever distress Silas was going through.

"... Thanks," Chante eventually conceded. Her tone still sounded largely the same, yet this time it was noticeably... quieter.

"Thought I could handle the cover. Usually can, just..."

She wasn't sure how to finish - what reason she could provide. It wasn't like her to screw up on something important like this. A few thoughts tolled on her mind about how the mission could have gone sideways so early on.

She remained quiet, excuseless and stewing.

Solar Daddy

 

[Solar Daddy]

Silas ignored the burns of his pores and tried correcting the clearly uneven strands of hair left on his chin. As Chanterelle spoke, he looked over slowly. She may have only said a dozen words but that was quite the monolog from the stoic bulwark. When her words trailed off, he spoke up to fill the attempt. "Don't mention it. We're a team. We help each other." He too clearly wasn't very good at talking with others, so when the silence lingered for more than second, he somewhat awkwardly raised his hand and hesitantly fist-bumped her shoulder pad.

The doors opened on the next floor and the awkward pair stepped out, quickly finding an unattended lounging spot in a dark corner. There they remained, hardly chatting but remaining near each other like a cat only wishing for presence but not interaction. The party went on, and the various members of the crew enjoyed the luxuries the event provided for the remainder of the night, some more so than others. When the auction arrived, Adira handled it with so little fuss it almost seemed staged. The bet on the drive core was tentatively raised by a few individuals, but no one was willing to put in as much as Adira for it, thanks to their illegally funded bankroll. The drive was acquired and transported aboard Silas' Harpy, though installation of the drive would need to be done at a facility designed for it. The crew gathered back at the hangar they arrived in and took off back to Virama.

Daisie

---

Stratton thankfully had not encountered the Sentinel Stars thugs again that night, though he noticed a larger quantity of various partygoers staring him down throughout the night after his run-in with them. Luckily no confrontation occurred and his night was uneventful for the remainder of the night.

Qyilim had enjoyed his time with Sam in his private quarters. The business deal had to be cut short thanks to Qyilim's previous arrangements, but Sam had exchanged contact information prior to their departure. Should Qyilim ever feel the need, Sam was one holo-call away. To Sam, however, all he had was a shaky name - Aqima Di'Min - that didn't seem to show up on any channels he looked up.

Silas and Chanterelle enjoyed the rest of the night in the relatively quiet confines of each other's company at a small public lounge on the upper floors. Not much was said and Silas was content with that. He assumed Chanterelle was too, seeing as she didn't seem to be the most extroverted of people.

Miles continued to probe around the party, looking for anyone willing to talk from Silas' crew. For him, the night was as uneventful as they came. He had short introductions with many of the cast, but nothing more than a few sentences. He left the yacht with the crew aboard the Harpy.

Adira performed the auction itself and closed out the night uneventfully after her run-in with Stratton and the Armyr.

The rest of the crew, Kestrel, Hanako and Eska, led either uneventful or unexplained nights at the gala. Silas and the rest of the crew would only know of their exploits if they dared tell. Otherwise, their antics could only be assumed.

---

Once back in Sine, Silas used the leftover funds Jae applied during the auction to get them a luxurious hotel room for the night while the drive core was installed on the Harpy. The funds would disappear from the account the next morning thanks to Jae's program, designed to limit suspicious activity, so Silas spent what he could for that night only. It was halfway up one of Sine's prestigious skyscrapers on the corner, with the main public areas divided between a cozy two floor open foyer. Two sides of the rooms were all windows with an impressive view of the constantly snowstorm-battered buildings of the city.

Prestigious as it may be, it was only a single hotel room, and as a result a few of the crew members had to sleep with sleeping bags or a stray blanket in various locations such as the couches, recliners and a few even just enjoying the lacquer of the floor.


(Yes this is V's Glen apartment don't @ me)

Silas couldn't get much sleep the night prior and had decided to get up early to assist his friends with a meal. It wasn't much - a few slim pieces of akri bacon per person and a large pot of generic brand oatmeal - but it was all Silas could find useful in the pre-stocked stores. Using the hotel's items would no doubt cost him a small fortune, but he wasn't too worried about it.

Silas stood on the inside of the bar picking away at his plate while waiting for the others. His beard was adjusted and noticeably shorter than before thanks to his attempts to correct Chanterelle's impromptu shave. It wasn't much better than it was before he attempted to fix it, unfortunately.

 

[Viper Actual]

Miles nods to himself. He also had quite a lot invested in tonight going well. As in... almost everything. But it wouldn't do to dwell on that now. So he smiled lackadaisically and said, "What, an evening on board a beautiful ship surrounded by beautiful people and free drinks, what's there not to love?"

"Mm, indeed..." Muttered Stratton, his voice trailing off while his gaze remained fixed on the man beside him.

He listened to Miles and nodded slowly as the other man spoke. Stratton partially agreed- this entire operation revolved around something very sentimental and was thus far from tactically sound- but he reminded himself yet again that Burns was a friend of Adira and in the end that was enough for him.

"It's a long story," he finally said after a brief moment of silence. "One best reserved for a quiet night void of any dangers- and with a warm drink in hand."

"You seem like a respectable kind of person. How did you get all involved in this group?"

Stratton allowed himself to break his stern facade briefly to let out a hearty chuckle. "That too is a long story. Short version is that I have a personal stake in the group. That and the fact that I'm getting too old to continue what I did before- which included a lot of solo-operating and a lot of wetwork."

The former WS envoy hesitated, unsure if it was smart to open up, though the hesitation ultimately withdrew and turned into a faint shrug. "This crew- this family- is the last one I'll ever tag along with before I find myself a place to retire to."

Stratton's facade re-emerged with a steely gaze aimed at Miles. "That being said, you still shouldn't get any idea. I might be old but I'm not that old."

Dragongal

*
​

Waking up with a groan inside the hotel room, Stratton's eyes scanned the room for threats. He was currently seated in a reclining chair positioned in a relatively shielded corner that allowed him to overlook most of the suite without exposing him through its massive windows. Resting under the flap of his sleeping bag was a gun as well as two spare magazines for quick and easy access though thankfully they had not been needed.

Once he was up on his feet Stratton quietly greeted anyone else up and about with a curt nod before digging in on the oatmeal and bacon. He nodded towards Silas.

"So," he began, inbetween bites. "Everything five-by-five? Or do you want me to touch base with some of my contacts and make sure we have our backs clear?"

Solar Daddy

 

[Daisie]

Seeing as blankets and sleeping bags wouldn't exactly help Chanterelle's situation, she was among the crew that opted to embrace the hotel's lovely and clean floors. As soon as everyone made it back to privacy, she switched back to being as unbothered and concise as she ever was.

As massive windows allowed for bright morning rays to light the walls and furniture in dawn, Chanterelle passed Stratton by with an equally curt nod and a small cup of water in hand. She trudged to the living area and knelt down at the coffee table in its center, on which laid her small fern. She watered it carefully and checked its health before continuing on to her normal routine that Stratton had previously witnessed - a quick injection of her supplements through the port in her chestplate. With those tasks taken care of, she headed for the kitchen.

She didn't even notice Silas's preparation at first, in fact she was well on her way to browsing the ingredients at their disposal when she spotted the oatmeal and bacon, ready to go. She froze still, staring at it for a second to process that someone had actually beaten her to the punch. After the surprise passed, she then stepped forward looked over his work a bit closer. Discerning.

When she finally looked up towards Silas, she allowed her helmet to disguise any opinions she had. Just a simple stretch of implied eye contact.

With nothing else said, she left the kitchen and simply sat at the other side of counter, a leaving a seat between herself and Stratton. She didn't insert herself into the two's conversation, but looked attentive to it nonetheless.

Solar Daddy Viper Actual

 

[Dragongal]

Miles was glad he hadn't had to hold a literal or metaphorical door open for the escaping team. However, he did get caught up with the rest of the guards after the event for the team debrief and despite his best efforts and expert excuses, he couldn't get out of the following after party without drawing suspicion. Especially since the contact on the team who had gotten him the job had apparently bragged about Miles's social skills. And, well... you don't become the guy with all the contacts if you make people dislike you. So despite his desire to follow Silas and his new team into the great unknown, he knew it was more important for him both short term and long term to at least go to the party for a little bit.

He continued texting Silas throughout the night, giving and receiving updates but also taking reassurance that the updates meant Silas and co wouldn't be leaving without him. One more night on planet and then they'd all leave, disappear into the stars for better or worse, and Miles wanted to make certain he was with them.

~~~~

Miles had shown up after most of the rest of the team fell asleep. He had had to reassure a suddenly-awoken Stratton that he was friendly and still just Miles, completely unarmed and just trying to join the team. Once Stratton was appeased, Miles went to find himself a place to sleep.

~~

Miles woke up and rubbed sleep from his eyes, then turned onto his stomach and army crawled a few feet to avoid bashing his head into the ceiling. No more brain trauma, Moss. He sighed and gripped the edge of the shelf, swinging himself down to land on his feet on the floor. With a wince at the sunlight pouring in the giant window and his typical smile on his lips, Miles reached up to brush glitter out of his hair as he walked toward the kitchen. He had ditched the suit coat on his way into the hotel and his suspenders were down around his hips too, though he'd kept the formal white shirt on with the sleeves rolled up.

"Good morning," he called casually to Silas, Stratton, and Chanterelle, though he made sure not to be too loud and wake up anyone. He got himself some oatmeal and bacon, though seemed politely off-put by these and checked the fridge and pantry before giving up and accepting this was the best there was. He took his plate and walked over to lean against the bar facing everyone, staying quiet as Silas and Stratton spoke and Miles himself dug into his food.

 

[Solar Daddy]

Silas had greeted each of his companions as they arrived at his humble spot along the bar. Silas wasn't much of a morning person and it showed in his cooking, his barely open eyes, and his hunched posture. He was thankful every day coffee existed and was constantly available to him. Whether it was heists or staying up way too late working on his countless projects, he just couldn't ever quite fully catch up on sleep.

When Chanterelle gave Silas' food a distinct judgement, he could only respond with a wry smile. He had no clue what she thought of it, but he doubted she approved. Oh well, free breakfast was free breakfast, even if she didn't partake.

"Everything five-by-five? Or do you want me to touch base with some of my contacts and make sure we have our backs clear?"

"Everything looks clear." Silas confirmed with a deep nod. "Cayus didn't slouch on pulling cover. Sent live receipts that every available database hadn't picked up our real names. Galaxy's a big place, so even if they somehow find out the cash was counterfeit, I highly doubt they'd ever get a lock on us. We nabbed the score without a hitch and are free to peruse the galaxy as we see fit." Silas gave a light laugh. "Seems like forever since we've had an open agenda. S' always been one thing after another with no breaks. Nice to just... enjoy the smell of coffee a bit."

The engineer then turned to face Miles. "Welcome back. Still not used to seeing your mug around, keep thinkin' I'm seeing ghosts. Always nice having extra hands on deck, though. Same goes for you, Chante." He gave a nod. "No one's shot at us since you came along, and whether that's correlated or not doesn't matter. Seems like you're our good luck charm. Or maybe Hanako is."

 

[Viper Actual]

"Good morning," he called casually to Silas, Stratton, and Chanterelle, though he made sure not to be too loud and wake up anyone.

"Everything looks clear." Silas confirmed with a deep nod.

Stratton offered Miles a curt nod before shifting towards Al, listening in silence. Once he was done Stratton nodded and leaned in towards the table to rest his arms for a bit. "It can be quite daunting with that much freedom. It's either liberating or a crushing weight, depending on the state of things."

"Though personally I'll be happy to just get away from the bone-chilling cold, regardless of wherever we may end up next."

He turned towards Chante and studied her for a moment. "Maybe we should get you another plant while we're at it. To commemorate our victory against all odds- as well as the absolutely dashing performance you had to pull off at the party."

Dragongal Solar Daddy Daisie

 

[Daisie]

Somehow, being talked to was still something that caught Chanterelle off guard, so having Silas and Stratton striking up friendly conversation was something to adjust to. At the mention of getting a new plant, however, her helmet swiveled towards Stratton just a tad in interest. Though there was a pause.

"I'm not sure," she answered, clearly hesitant despite her flat tone. She shot a glance over her shoulder towards the small fern on the coffee table, half in a gesture, yet half to genuinely make sure it was still there. "Haven't had a new one since I crashed on Tartarus."

And those plants were... well, irreplaceable.

"Esclarmonde Iscariot-Hendrik Vi," she recalled her pretentious cover name well, acknowledging Stratton's compliment as she straightened to look forward again, deadpan.

"... What a pomp."

Viper Actual Dragongal Solar Daddy

 

[Dragongal]

The engineer then turned to face Miles. "Welcome back. Still not used to seeing your mug around, keep thinkin' I'm seeing ghosts.

Miles looked up from his food for long enough to grin at Silas. "Hey careful now, you're almost makin' me sound old! And I am but a young spring chicken who has never ever committed a felony," he joked with a wink toward Stratton. He turned his attention back to the topic, "I agreed with him, though, anywhere but this frozen hellscape would be ideal... especially since we're still at risk of getting caught, no matter how good Cayus did." After all, part of his deal with Silas was that if he joined the crew, that would get Miles off this damned planet.

"... What a pomp."

Green eyes flicked from his food up to Chanterelle. So she did have a solid sense of humor! His grin turned a little more wicked as he said, "You played 'pomp' fantastically, though. I actually genuinely was nervous I was speaking to the ACTUAL artist and had accidentally blown my own cover!"