GR RP "Adventures in GunRunning" ACT 17
POSTED BY: DireKtorsSmeagol
UPDATED: Sunday, July 4, 2004 13:22
VIEWED: 23313
PAGE 6 of 10
Jonas Hexx
Guest quarters. For a ship, any kind of space-going vessel for that matter, Hexx had to admit he was impressed with the relatively generous amount of space provided for him. For all the bullshit he's had to endure, and WILL have to go through in the future, this job DOES have it's upsides.
Speaking of which, Hexx fixes his attention on the woman explaining the amenities of the ship. Meal times, toiletries, ship layout, off limits areas of the Longshot, etc. More focused on the way her mouth is moving and her graceful body movements. Her voice has an almost hypnotic quality to it. Very melodic and soothing. The more Hexx listens to her, the more relaxed and happy he feels.
Eveningstar, noticing how Hexx is staring at her with a sleepy and almost dreamy look, blushes and her rehearsed speech skips a beat. She looks at Hexx and takes his appearance in. Hexx has an almost sinister look about him that makes people step out of his way in a hurry when he comes through. Deep set eyes that seem to be hidden in shadow, offset with high cheek bones and a not-quite aquiline nose. Two days worth of stubble on his tanned, angular face and unkempt brown hair give Sarah the impression that Hexx has been on the move for quite a while. Muscular physique but not overly so. Eveningstar's opinion is that Hexx is a VERY satisfactory specimen of manhood.
Thinking to herself:"Perhaps I'll find out HOW satisfactory a specimen he is!"
Eveningstar abruptly claps her hands together which brings Hexx out of his daze. She says:"Well, that covers the mundanities of shipboard life. Now, if you'll pardon me for one hour, I'll see to preparing us some food and drink from the ship's Galley. You can unpack your gear if you wish, and you know where the facilities are. If you need me in the interrim, just buzz for me on the ship's intercom, Mr. Hexx."
Sarah Eveningstar turns to make her way to the door of the cabin, Hexx says to her:"Call me 'Jonas', Miss Eveningstar." He says with an almost imperceptible smile on his face.
Eveningstar blinks with suprise,turns, and says with a smile:"I'm Sarah, Jonas. I'm pleased to have met you. You were NOT the kind of man I was expecting." She extends her hand and Jonas takes it. Sarah is taken aback by the warmth of his hand and the gentle strength of his grip.
Thinking to herself:"He looks like he could snap me in two without exerting himself and holds my hand as though cradling fine china. No. Not at ALL the man I was expecting!"
Eveningstar clears her throat and says:"Well...excuse me, I know you must be famished. I...I'll see to our meal preparations. I will ring for you in about one hour for Supper, Jonas." Sarah departs to the Galley, stopping on the way to collect her wits. Thinking:"Oh my God!! Get youself in order Eveningstar! You're not a blushing school girl, after all. At least I didn't embarrass myself TOO badly, I hope. Remember, he's a Cleaner after all!!" Two deep breaths and she is on her way.
Hexx, in the meantime, is feeling the onset of an episode. Hands starting to tremble, he makes his way to the Midnight Box, enters the access inputs, and pulls out an injector. Smoothly loads up his fix and injects himself. Maybe a little chaser with my drugs to help smooth me out. He then pours out some amber liquor and downs it in one gulp.
Says to no one in particular:"That's the stuff."
Jonas closes the Box, and, feeling the ep starting to subside, engages himself in unpacking essentials and stowing his tools. Remembering to set out a good suit for Supper, Hexx whistles softly to himself and smiles thinking of Sarah Eveningstar.
EOM.
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Kaylee's Move
Location: Galley to Bridge
Standing next to Merz, Kaylee hears Wash over the comm say that Simon is on the Cortex.
Reflexively, she smiles at the thought of seeing him again. Slowly, though, the smile fades as she wonders just what he'll look like. Will he be the old Simon, or the new? Will she see that small hint of haughtiness that she saw in his message?
"Maybe I need ta shake him up some, see if that don't do somethin'," she thinks.
Sighing, she starts towards the bridge.
End Move
BoomerGoodheart
"I love my Captain."
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INTERLUDE ONE Part 3
LOCATION - NEW HOKKAIDO
UCHIGATANA City - ReinAct Faire grounds
2518 AD~Solor Day 025/Jan 24~0136 hrs/1:36AM AMT
Boomer finished closing down their booth, Legendary Leathers. Her husband had left the ReinAct Faire grounds to bring the Avaitor around so they could load up the extra supplies into it. The evening was so nice, Boomer decided to take a walk.
..."Hubby can deal with the project bag his strong-ole-self"... She thought as she looked down at the case full of uncompleted leather goods.
Smiling at the really good day they had, Boomer loses track as she exits the WestWorld section of the park. She lets her thoughts drift over the day, all the folks they had talked to, new friends made and the really good day they had in sales.
..."Hubby is gonna have such a surprise at our next anniversary"... she mused, patting the pocket she had squirreled away the credits for the nifty expensive present she planned on getting her husband.
..."Won't be much of a surprise if he knew I had this wad of bills!"... she chortled softly.
Boomer found herself waving to the guards at the front gate as she strolled out. Looking up as she passed from under the awning, she could not help but feel a thrill as she looked up to New Hokkaido's beautiful full moon. It hung midway in the sky, giving a burnt orange cast to the night sky. Darkened mares of dust on the moon connected together to form an outspread hand grasping the moon like a player gripped a basketball in one hand. The moon was in direct opposition to the sun, thus showing the hand in full relief. She noticed a reflection of silver in the base of the 'thumb'. A relatively tiny spread of lakes there shone with unabashed glory.
..."Wonder why they made the lakes outline to resemble a desert mouse?"... she mused as she rambled on. Feeling good and really happy, she let her mind absorb the sights and sounds of the early morning.
Passing by the old arena outside the Faire, she decided to duck in. After passing the entry arch, something caused her to involuntarily stop.
..."Wasn't that alcove empty yesterday,"... she thought as she tried to peer through the darkness shrouding the tall, raised alcove. A huge seated figure seemed to be reminiscent of a Buddha statue, but not as wide. The lotus position was correct, but the figure was no where the girth of a Buddha. Suddenly a soft deep voice drifted to her on the light breeze, seemingly for her ears only.
"No, not a statue. Just a storyteller resting his voice," the rich voice intoned.
Boomer started, she knew that displaced persons sometimes slept in the old arena. But they usually took to bedding down in-between the benches, so they were hidden from security visual sweeps. Suddenly she remembered talking to a fem that was going on and on, with great glee, about a HUGE man that was telling excellent parables disguised as highly entertaining stories. Nico, something ... this HAD to be him.
From the darkness the immobile giant whispered again. As if he could read her mind, he said, "Good morn, Mistress Leathersmith. I am NicoAllez, a plain and simple storyteller."
Slightly weirded out that he knew she was a leatherworker, she answered automatically, "Evenin', Mr. Allez."
A soft rumble that could be interpreted as a chuckle surged through the night like the hint of distant thunder. "It is plain NicoAllez. You may called me Nico."
Boomer smiled, there was a quality in his voice that was very reassuring and comforting. He somehow had the same speaking ease and pace her pop was known for. Smiling she said, "Nice to meet you, Nico."
"If you have a chance for a break from your booth, please accept my invitation to return tomorrow and hear a good story. It will be short, yet you may find it interesting. I'll save you a space up front for you and your husband," He paused a moment, a sense that he was listening to the wind was strong to Boomer. Using the techniques he
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Wash's Move:
Location - Bridge to Location - Front Hall to Location - Wash & Zoë’s Dorm
(Wash turns to the communications screen): “Simon, it’s getting crowded in here, I’m gonna finally go and listen to the message you recorded for me, and take a quick nap, as I’ve got a tricky bit of piloting to do… You take care of yourself, ok.”
(Wash turns on the autopilot, sets the proximity alarm, and gets out of his chair, and squeezes out of the bridge, and goes down the corridor to his dorm room. He climbs down the ladder, and takes the memory stick, activates it, and carelessly tosses it on the bed. Nothing happens.)
(Wash, to the room at large.): “Oh, great, I broke it. I’m having a really good day.”
(He goes over and picks up the stick, and holds it up to his face, and looks it over… there is a flash of light, then the message plays.)
Message Stick Visual Recording
(Simon's Face appears sort of in mid-air and only to the eye looking into the memory stick) “Wash, I know you're the finest pilot around. And to that fine pilot I request a favor… please keep an eye on River. What I am doing may be a long shot, but in order to help my sister, I have no choice but to try.” (Simon looks uncomfortable here.) “I hate that I had to leave abruptly, but again I had no choice. There was no time for debate.” (Simon sighs with a feeble grin.) “I know you'll do what you can to insure River's safety. Take care and I'll be home soon.”
(Wash, to the stick he’s still holding): “Well, that’s fairly easy, we’re in a spaceship, where can she go to get into trouble… Oh, I’m a yúchûn qingwa cào de liúmáng… I TOLD her to go outside, and wash my windows… She could have gotten herself killed! Well, nothing can be done about it now, she’s safe on my bridge, I’ll go ahead and take a quick siesta now, so I can plot my wonder course later.”
(Wash gets undressed, sets the alarm for 1630 (04:30pm) minutes, as it is just now 1600 (04:00pm). He thinks that just 30 minutes will be enough… He climbs into the nice quiet transport to slumber… He starts to mumble out loud to the room, quietly…): “Maybe the crime, and course will be easy… maybe it’ll be a quiet run… quiet seismic detonators…”
Sleep comes quickly to the tired pilot… the best, no, the finest pilot out in the black… he dreams nice dreams… something safe, and familiar…
- The Real Dream Sequence -
A third person view… A view into an old-fashioned ship… a comfortable, predictable ship… a ship that is called: Enter… Serenity. “Lieutenant Rowan, get the landing party on the channel, please. (Captain Wash Warren, of the starship Serenity, sits in his command chair, and surveys the brightly lit circular bridge. A generic planet circles in the large view screen at the front of the bridge.) “Landing party here, Captain Warren” a tinny voice says over the intercom. “You have your orders, get those Reavers out of there,” Warren says to the air. (He hits a button on the arm of the chair, closing the channel.
The captain begins his survey of the bridge, starting with the console in front of him. At the helm, a nervous ensign Reynolds is staring out into space. Warren quietly gets up out of the command chair, and walks up beside the nervous plebe, and taps the console in front of him, as words are unnecessary. Reynolds quickly stares downtrodden at his console, and pushes a button… he flushes red. Warren continues the inspection: Lieutenant Troy at navigations, confidently running a diagnostic on the phasers… Commander River, naturally standing (on a wooden crate) at the science station, looking into her blue glowing reader scope. Lieutenant Rowan at communications, looking good in the short red skirt, and boots, head cocked as she listens intently to the silver salt-shaker in her ear. Security guard Damon is standing at ease in the turbo-lift doorway, ready, just ready for trouble. Ah, Kaylee, sweet
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SIMON's MOVE
LOCATION : BRIDGE WAVE MONITOR
January 1552/3:52 PM AMT
As...
Quote:Simon smiles and give a short wave good-bye to Wash as he exits. He then peers into his monitor as if he cannot readily see who is in the background.
ORIGINAL BY DECOY
Wash turns to the communications screen): “Simon, it’s getting crowded in here, I’m gonna finally go and listen to the message you recorded for me, and take a quick nap, as I’ve got a tricky bit of piloting to do… You take care of yourself, ok.”
"Kaylee, is that you back there? Please talk to me. Everything is going OK. Slight and I are so close to finding the Doctor!"
He sounds so ernest and pleased Kaylee can't help but be drawn towards the screen. An unconscious smile begins to form as she moves forward, but is quickly supressed, lest Simon sees her happiness at seeing him. Even if he was covered in soot and grime. At seeing Simon dirty and disheveled, Kaylee stifles a giggle behind her hand ...
EOM
"Remember, there is only ONE absolute - There ARE NO absolutes!!!"
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MERZ MOVE
LOCATION - DINING ROOM
The room has almost completely emptied of people, either getting busy with their assigned tasks or gone up to the bridge to speak to the Doctor – that Simon person. MERZ seats herself with her meal, attention focused inward, still engaged in sorting, categorizing and filing impressions, facts and people. MERZ has a distinct impression that she is going to be doing that every spare moment, for a long, long time to come. So *dherai much to learn.
She notices someone approaching; Captain Reynolds. He slips into the seat next to her and looks at her carefully and a bit speculatively.
MAL
Might I have a bit of a word with you, Miss Mercedes?
Satisfied with the opportunity to finish the database on him, MERZ nods. "Certainly Captain Reynolds. Please call me Merz. Mercedes was … their … name for me, and I choose not to use it anymore. Merz will do, until I choose another."
He nods back. Folks around here mostly call me Mal, unless formality is required. Hardly ever here to home. Now I need to know a little sumthin’ from you, before tomorrows big shindig. I would appreciate bein’ sure just where your loyalties lie. You’ve not been aboard long, and you would seem to have a mighty strong tendency to take orders from most any source, which could work out to a mighty big problem under the right circumstances. So. Clue me in.
MERZ stops, thinks about his question. Just where do her loyalties lie? She has disassociated herself from her family, permanently as far as she is concerned. She has been long separated from the A.P.E.S., and no longer knows how they might feel about her. So here and now … . "Mal. You have placed me in crews’ quarters. You have allowed me to man your gun. You have offered me crew compensation for my actions. My take on this is thus. Until such time as we reach a mutual agreement to the contrary, then I offer my absolute loyalty to you as my Captain, and to the complement of Serenity as fellow crewmates, and to any passengers as required by my position within the crew. In that order. Do you find that satisfactory?"
MAL nods again. Best I can ask for at this particular time. Thanks for the info. And pardon me for bein’ so quick, but got other people to discuss things with, so I need to be movin’ on.
Smiling at her, he moves off, leaving MERZ to her own devices. done. database file updated and completed. i know you now mal, and i will not forget
EOM
*dherai = very (Nepali)
If Justice is the dish, then I am your waitress
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OOC: This takes place before the meeting, explaining where Rowan was, and why she was late getting to the Galley.
Rowan's Move:
START LOCATION: Catwalks outside Inara's shuttle.
Deciding to take a little detour, Rowan descends all the way to the cargo bay deck and makes her way quickly across to the passenger dorms. Something about Merz's speech, or her ingénue, but it strikes a minor chord. Taking the hand held from the waistband of her trousers, she glances around to make sure no one is about and activates it. Quickly bringing up the wireless access, she taps into her sourcepad and accesses the old Revolution logs stored deep in its memory. Scrolling back, she finds one dated about a year prior to the end of the war titled The Troy Project.
As nothing in the log could never be fully proven, Xiang had deemed it unpublishable, but Rowan had taken the initiative to save everything, just in case some crucial bit of evidence came along. She'd clean forgotten about it until now - after all, how could a woman not know the simplest definition of pretty? Didn't every girl yearn to emulate the current accepted icon of beauty and fashion? Didn't every girl despair once she realized it wasn't possible? Didn't every girl feel justified once she believed she could be her own icon?
Bookmarking the full article for some night-table reading, Rowan decides to change her shoes and walks in to find her quarters in complete dissaray. The duffle is on her bed, the contents spread about and her toiletries bag has been up-ended beside it, spreading her paltry cosmetic collection out across the blanket. Her attaché is up there as well, open to expose the sourcepad and the Colt packed in with it. In a panic, she dives immediately for the money pouch laying right there on the bunk, and finds it still heavy with platinum.
Breathing a heavy sigh of relief, Rowan takes in the disarray of her personal items and moves right on into confusion. After time spent on board, she had started to getting lulled into a false sense of security. Contrary to other ships she'd been on, nobody on board had struck her as the thieving sort. Maybe she has only been aboard for a little over 24 hours, but her people instincts are generally bang on. Not to mention the fact that it seems all her valuables are all accounted for. Why would someone search through her belongings and then only mess with the cosmetics?
Gatherering up lipsticks, eye shadow and such, she stows it all away again, and refolds everything. Instead of repacking, she decides to put her things away in the accommodating dresser. Since someone went to all the trouble of unpacking, it seemed superfluous to bother with putting it all back now.
Settling the empty duffle and the attaché back under her bunk, Rowan heads back out, now much later for the meeting than she intended.
END LOCATION - PASSENGER DORMS - Rowan is en route to the Galley and arrives about half way through the meeting.
EOM
We have art so as not to die of truth ~ Neitzsche
http://www.mnartists.org/artistHome.do?rid=7922
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Rowan's Move
LOCATION: Galley, Post meeting
MAL: "Inara, could you please wait a sec? I would like to see if we could have our chat now. I just gotta ask Rowan a thing or three.
INARA: "Now Malcolm Reynolds, are you asking me to wait while you chat up another woman?"
It's interesting, watching two people so fiercely attracted to each other dance around the white elephant standing right there in the room with them. Watching them both, Rowan doesn’t bother to hold back a smile. As she catches Inara's eye briefly, she raises an eyebrow that clearly indicates she can see exactly what's going on. Now whether the companion decides to acknowledge that - the attraction, that is - would be left entirely up to her.
MAL: "Rowan, can you give me any more intel on that bar you mentioned?"
Rowan decides to hold back her understanding of the captain's situation. It was one thing to tease a friend on certain things - but this man was still the captain and still a browncoat. Friendly enough, but not someone she needed to offend in any fashion.
ROWAN: "The Edge isn't just a bar, captain, it's a pool hall. About the only place out here a player can go to get an honest game. Money changes hands pretty regular, but it's more about the game than the wager. When the magistrates all decided it was time New Hokkaido became an Alliance protectorate, though, things got a little dicer. They didn't want any wagering going on that wasn't regulated - so they could show they were upstanding types and all - but the local magistrate does enjoy his stick once in awhile, so he worked a deal. The Edge could stay as it was so long as the only people who played are registered with the UBA, and the doorman will expect to see a membership card before letting you set foot."
She glances over at Mr. Thorne, but can't tell if he's paying attention.
ROWAN: "Mr. Thorne there won't have a ghost's chance in hell of getting you in. Whereas I can get you in with access to the private room in the back. I can even guarantee you the best reconnaissance in the 'verse. Only I gotta be there. That's how it works, Captain."
Tipping her head to one side, she gives him a little smile. She can tell he's distracted. Man with a woman on his mind generally is.
ROWAN: "Captain, if you don't mind, I'd rather hold off on the firewater. Seems the folks here could use a meal and I feel like it's my turn."
Getting the captain's nod, Feeling eyes on her back, she turns to find Jayne behind her, just looking away.
EOM
UBA - Universal Billiards Association
We have art so as not to die of truth ~ Neitzsche
http://www.mnartists.org/artistHome.do?rid=7922
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Rowan's Move
LOCATION: Galley
ROWAN to herself: Let's see what the Shepherd's spice rack has in store. Maybe I can take a crack Aislin's special sesame chicken. Well, except maybe for it having to be protein and not actual chicken.
Just thinking of her sister's name and the long talk they had brings a smile to her face again. Heading for the kitchen, she's nearly run over by Damon as he executes a fairly graceful turn. Looking up, she sees he seems a bit thoughtful - not an unusual state for him, certainly. The boy has always had more inside than he let on. He seems a bit more perceptive than usual, however.
DAMON: "You look... chipper. Someone die and leave you a fortune?"
ROWAN *grinning*: "Nope, just got some good news today, that's all. Hey, I really do like this new you, by the way. Your face takes a razor pretty well, doesn't it?"
Lifting her hand to touch - she's always found a nicely shaven male face irresistible - she isn't entirely prepared for Damon's reaction. Her hand barely touches his skin before he's jerking his head sharply away.
Usually when she touches them, men have a tendency to melt under her fingers. She's always amazed how fast their minds go from a touch to all manner of unspeakable fantasies. The look in Damon's eyes reminds her more of a dog that's had too heavy a hand from his master, cringing whether it's raised in anger or for a quick scratch behind the ears. She's about to take her hand away and the words are there to soothe his trepedations when he stops.
As wonderment begins to replace that chilling fear in his eyes, Damon shifts back again, and very carefully places his jaw into the palm of her hand. His skin is warm and smooth in a way that only a straight razor can make it. He's unbelievably tense, his entire body vibrating to indicate it's taking every muscle to keep from bolting. When he steps away the second time, she watches a certain sense of calm wash over him and the fear fades away. She wants to ask what happened to him, and yet can't bring herself to it. After all, if he were to ask her why she doesn't sleep, what would she say?
EOM
OOC: WHEW! I'm caught up!!
We have art so as not to die of truth ~ Neitzsche
http://www.mnartists.org/artistHome.do?rid=7922
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Jayne's turn:
LOCATION - JAYNE'S DORM
Jayne sits on his bed and stares straight ahead. After a minute of waiting, he starts to shift around in boredom. Well, that was a bust.
Jayne wipes the lipstick from his mouth onto a pant leg and moves onto the next colour. That shiny looking one was bound to have special properties. Jayne inserts his head into his trousers, moves it up and down, from side to side. The trousers drop, revealing Jayne's glistening, moist-looking lips perched in a deadly serious expression. He waits.
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