RP: "Adventures in Gunrunning" - Act 11
POSTED BY: FrauDirektor
UPDATED: Monday, March 15, 2004 03:00
VIEWED: 19707
PAGE 8 of 12
Damon’s turn:
LOCATION - BRIDGE
As...
Damon smiles to himself as the firing controls light up in his hands. Somehow getting something to work properly was just as satisfying as seeing it blow into a thousand pieces.
Quote:
Damon glared at the passing guard and then picked up another part off of the conveyer belt. He quickly turned it over, severed the wires at the base of the part and then set it back down on the belt. He picked up the next one and repeated the process until he noticed that it was almost time for the test flight.
“Hey, Phil,” he called over to the worker ahead of him. “If the guards ask where I am, tell them I got in trouble again.”
Phil shook his head, barely containing a smile. “You will be in trouble in about five minutes.”
“Two minutes.” Damon smiled and headed for the door, adjusting the handcuffs on his wrists. He looked around for any guards and then slipped outside. He squinted at the bright light, relishing the warm sun on his skin. But he couldn’t stay and sun bathe. He hurried over to the bushes, made sure than any passing guards wouldn’t see him and looked over to the landing area. Three jets were being prepped for take off. He could barely hear the voice over the com:
“Start up in five, four, three, two, one…”
Damon jumped as all three jets exploded, sending pieces of hull flying across the landing area. He grinned and burst into laughter. NOTE: crossing the main power line with the auxiliary line at the fifth juncture results in minor engine failure. He laughed all the harder, falling onto the ground clutching his aching ribs. Now they would have to go through the entire fleet of jets and find out what was wrong with them. So much for Alliance air support.
He continued laughing until several pairs of hands grabbed him and pulled him out of the bushes. He knew what was coming: several beatings, maybe even the whip, and then no food for however long they decided. He looked over at the charred remains of the jets and grinned. It was worth it.
Damon wanders back to the present and realizes that he’s grinning. His precious few moments of joy were always brief during those years, but they kept him sane, and alive. He pushes the wires back into the consol and screws it shut.
“There you go,” he says to Wash. “I’ll be back in time to blow that patrol boat out of the sky.” He checks the time, noting that they’ve only got fifteen minutes left, gathers up his box of tools and his bag, and heads for the galley.
I'm not broken, in my dream I win...
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Slight retrieves his things from the shuttle, and shuts it down, his movements quick but careful. Last thing he needs is to break down the ship he was about to "borrow" for a time. He suddenly pats his pockets, and lets out a stream of steady curses. Of all the things to leave behind. . .
He bolts out of the door, making sure all the other weaponry he has is concealed. He flies down the catwalk, and runs into the galley, suddenly seeing the dragon and the newest member of the ship. He stops, and stares, stock still. He can't tell why, or how, but he feels drawn to her, drawn to this total stranger that he can't feel, can't "see" the way he's used to "seeing." But there was no reason for it. She looks almost careworn. Slight begins to wonder if. . .
He shakes his head. "Old boy," he thinks to himself, "you got no time for fantasising."
He decides to simply destroy any chances of it, and removes his glasses, showing both of the women there his bloody gaze. Her shock and disgust will be enough to break any ideas. he walks towards her, holding out his hand to properly introduce himself this time.
Although the Blue Sun had improved his physicality, they had been surprised at his being born albino. Even with his proficiency with physical movement contained, it was still easy to see-he was diferent.
His father had taught him, as he grew, that others were mere mortals, below him. His pale skin, and red eyes, made him more. And his abilities, his upgrades, would make him a god among men. And on his first mission, after the thrill was over, he realized that he was unstopable.
But as he continued through the worlds, he realized it didn't matter what he could do, all that mattered was what he was. He got tatoos. He even painted his own skin for a while, to no effect. He had only to look at someone, and it all went to hell. And the Blue Sun didn't improve things, either.
Slight smiles, keeping his hand out. "My name is Brink Helsing, but most folks call me Slight. I never caught yours earlier." He waits for her to be shocked. . .and is surprised when he sees. . .nothing. It's like she doesn't even care. . .
I'm talking about geese.
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Inara's turn
LOCATION - OUTSIDE SERENITY
Inara drifts inside her own head, soft light shining behind her eyelids, the rush of breath in and out..in and out...a living ocean for her own enjoyment.
She hears the cruch of boots on gravel, feels the soft tingle that signals someone is watching...Inara opens her eyes and turns.
THORNE: ”Mademoiselle, grant me a moment please....I wish now to present my Supplication in the proper manner, if you would consent to hear it.”
Inara smiles and nods, lifting herself from Serenity's side to stand upright once again, one small fist held to her chest..listening.
THORNE strikes the traditional lector’s pose, beautiful words flowing from his lips with perfect cadence and tone.
Quote:
“If the white night ever comes again and rest eludes my soul
I’ll recall the color of your eyes, the perfume of your hair
Then like a swelling tide of peace, your love o’er me will roll
As my nightmares change to reveries, so comforting and fair
In the world we only met today, yet you I’ve ever known
As a Goddess, as a Fairy, as a lover, as a friend
In this time, so brief, between us, the vision I’ve been shown
Has stirred a song within me which I hope will never end
I have seen you so courageous, and I have seen you kind
As in my hopeless dreams I had imagined you would be
And now the only hope that lives within my helpless mind
Is that some day you’ll find the things you always sought - in me.
Dear Companion, in the hours since I was captured by your sigh
“Inara” has become my prayer, my hymn, my battle cry”
Inara can't help but stare at Thorne, eyes soft and wide, she is afraid to speak, to break the beautiful tapestry of sound he's woven with his prose.
Putting speech aside and deciding instead on action, Inara steps forward, laying a soft hand on Thorne's forearm. She lifts her head to stare up into his eyes, an expression of gratitude on her face. Finding strength in contact with him, Inara whispers:
I have been courted by many men and women in my years as a Companion, Mr. Thorne...but never have I been so blessed. Your supplication is uneccesary, I will accept you as a suitor, and would be most honored with your company--though...*glancing over to Serenity, Mal's voice whispering in her ears* I fear a Client-Companion relationship will have to wait until you are no longer a member of Mr. Reynold's crew. He and I have come to an agreement on this point.
Turning and wrapping Thorne's arm with her own, Inara says "I have never seen Serenity Valley, Sir. I'd like to look around, if you're interested in joining me."
End Inara's turn
Just a humble supplicant in service to all things Joss
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LOCATION - DINING ROOM
When she opens her eyes again, there is a man standing in front of her, caught in the act of raising his hand to her. Odd, she neither heard nor felt him approach. walks light, this one
SLIGHT smiles, keeping his hand out. "My name is Brink Helsing, but most folks call me Slight. I never caught yours earlier." In his other hand are the dark glasses he was wearing earlier. He is watching her, with a strange intensity in his eyes. Not only in his eyes, his entire bearing is tense, almost as if waiting to be struck down.
What can he expect me to see? I see a pale man, with dark hair and . . grey, pink . . eyes . .? Strange shade . She raises her right hand and takes his firmly. Not to hurt but no chance that'll be taken for a caress. "They call me Merz." is this fear? what does he see, when he looks at me. have I been . . . no, not possible. let it go "You say most folks call you 'Slight'. I'm not interested in that. What do you prefer to be called?"
His gaze is unsettling. MERZ cocks her head to one side and in a cold voice, asks SLIGHT "What is it you see, when you see me, Brink Helsing?"
EOM
If Justice is the dish, then I am your waitress
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Damon's turn:
LOCATION - DINING ROOM/GALLEY
Damon enters the galley where Merz and Rowan sit at the table with cups up tea in their hands. Slight stands near Merz looking at her with those strange red eyes.
MERZ cocks her head to one side and in a cold and demanding voice, asks SLIGHT "What is it you see, when you see me, Brink Helsing?"
Something about the whole scene was just freaky and he couldn't firgure out why. Maybe it was because the guy had tried to melt his brain a couple hours back.
Damon sets the box of tools down on the table and walks over to the kitchen. He scrounges around until he finds a beer. His pocketknife makes short work of the cap and then he takes a long swig of the wonderful drink.
He looks back at the other people in the room. Somehow he didn't think the captain would like it if he found out all of the drifters were taking a tea break when there was work to be done. But even more unsettling was the thought of an Alliance patrol boat boarding while he was still on it.
He adjusts his bag on his shoulder and walks back to his box. "Hate to interrupt, but don't you guys think we should be worrying about that patrol boat? I doubt the Feds are taking a tea break right now."
He picks up the box and holds it against his side with one arm and swallows some more beer. "I'm gonna return these and head down to the cargo bay."
I'm not broken, in my dream I win...
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Thorne's Move:
Location:Heaven on Hera
INARA:"I have been courted by many men and women in my years as a Companion, Mr. Thorne...but never have I been so blessed. Your supplication is uneccesary, I will accept you as a suitor, and would be most honored with your company--though I fear a Client-Companion relationship will have to wait until you are no longer a member of Mr. Reynold's crew. He and I have come to an agreement on this point."
Turning and wrapping Thorne's arm with her own, Inara says "I have never seen Serenity Valley, Sir. I'd like to look around, if you're interested in joining me."
[The Alliance ships are 15 minutes away, the cargo's not loaded, there's much to do, but THORNE cannot help but spend a few minutes with this woman. He places his hand lightly on INARA's, where it rests on his arm, and leads her away from the ship.]
THORNE:"I hesitate to disagree with someone so lovely, but my supplication was entirely necessary. Even my best is unworthy of one such as yourself, but still I must offer it, hoping that you will overlook it's failings and perceive the purity of the emotion that brings it forth."
[They walk in silence for a while, surrounded by the blasted and burned landscape. Only a few seeds, blown by the wind, have taken root in the almost sterile soil.]
"But you ask of the Valley. Let me paint it for you as it was when I knew it best.
All that you see burned and sere, imagine as lush green and growing. Picture the ground too steep to farm as planted with gardens of delight. Trees, shrubs, flowers, lawns. Streams and fountains. Sculpture and statuary. pavillions and follies. All carefully, lovingly arranged. See the farmsteads there, laying lightly on the land, designed for comfort and rest, holding generations of families. Smell the earthy fragrance of new-turned soil. Hear the lowing of cattle, the joyous cries of children playing, the dinner horn calling the workers from the field at sunset. The cool air flowing from the snow-capped peaks in the far distance. My Lady, I've been to most places in the 'verse, and I swear this was the finest. Gone now...but not gone. As long as my mind holds it in memory, it still exists."
[They stand a moment in silence, then a twinkle comes to THORNE's eye.]
"And, if I may be so bold as to correct your misapprehension, I am not part of Captain Reynold's crew. In truth, he is in my employ for this endevour...although he sometimes seems to forget that little piece of information.
Now, I fear, we must return to the ship, and to my endevour. Time passes too quickly, especially in your company, and there is much yet to do."
[Still arm in arm, and somewhat regretfully (at least on THORNE's part), they turn back towards Serenity.]
EOM
"Keep the Shiny side up"
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Jayne's turn:
Jayne winces a little and rubs the spot the popper just fell off. An almost instantaneous clarity washes over him. Images rush back into his head, something Inara tried to make him drink, Zoe tossing a bucket of water on his head, that cute Rowan girl he met down in the cargo hold...
"Uhhh, wow that done cleared my head right up. Gonna head to my bunk real quick for a change then later on, Zoe and I are gonna adress my soggy britches... Meet ya' in the bay in 20."
The Hero of Canton, the man they call... Meeeeee!
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Rowan's Move:
LOCATION - DINING ROOM/GALLEY
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MERZ: "I can see why you are only wearing one lens. What I don't see is why wear them at all. Vision correction? Then why change the color of your eyes?"
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Managing to hold her surprise in check, Rowan blows over the steaming tea in her cup as she considers what to tell her. Suddenly the idea of wearing them for vanity seems foolish, and it’s likely that someone who was able to notice the lenses at all might not believe the other reason. An Asian woman with green eyes would be easy to identify - provided the Alliance was aware of her at all - but that would lead into the whole reason behind that justification, and that’s not even an option.
The entire conundrum is put on hold when that powerfully strange fella Slight walks into the galley, only to stop dead in his tracks the moment he sees Merz. After a moment of staring baldly the way a man does when smitten by a woman, he removes the dark glasses to reveal blood red eyes. Feeling the tape over her injured eye pull again as her own brows rise of their own volition, Rowan wonders what in the ‘verse she could have to feel self-conscious about. Slight appears tense and somewhat defensive, as if expecting some manner of reproach. Merz, on the other hand, is completely composed and not the least bit affected by what Rowan could only call Slight’s otherworldliness.
---------------------------------
MERZ cocks her head to one side and in a cold voice, asks SLIGHT "What is it you see, when you see me, Brink Helsing?"
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Noticing the young man Damon quietly enter from the bridge passage way, Rowan notes his puzzlement before he sets down a box of tools heads back into the galley. Hearing him rummage around in the refrigeration unit, she determines that he’s decided to find his own brew, thank you very much, and hopes the stuff Blue Sun passes as beer doesn’t react negatively to whatever meds Simon had him on.
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DAMON adjusts his bag on his shoulder and walks back to his box. "Hate to interrupt, but don't you guys think we should be worrying about that patrol boat? I doubt the Feds are taking a tea break right now."
He picks up the box and holds it against his side with one arm and swallows some more beer. "I'm gonna return these and head down to the cargo bay."
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Feeling the hairs on the back of her neck rise, Rowan sets her cup down as she straightens in her chair.
ROWAN: Hang on - patrol boat? Nobody said anything about a patrol boat - what’s the ETA?
EOM
We have art so as not to die of truth ~ Neitzsche
http://www.mnartists.org/artistHome.do?rid=7922
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Damon's turn:
LOCATION - DINING ROOM/GALLEY
Quote:
Originally posted by Channain:
Feeling the hairs on the back of her neck rise, Rowan sets her cup down as she straightens in her chair.
ROWAN: Hang on - patrol boat? Nobody said anything about a patrol boat - what’s the ETA?
Damon keeps walking toward the engine room and calls back to Rowan: "Less than fifteen minutes."
I'm not broken, in my dream I win...
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Rowan's Move:
LOCATION - DINING ROOM/GALLEY
ROWAN to herself: Fifteen minutes until the Feds come down to bring their peculiar brand of civilization to ... wait, where are we?
ROWAN to MERZ: Hey, having just woke up and all, I’m little behind the eight ball on current events. Somebody wanna clue me in on which corner of hell we happen to be sitting on right now?
EOM
We have art so as not to die of truth ~ Neitzsche
http://www.mnartists.org/artistHome.do?rid=7922
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