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🦄 Murder High Reunion - Concluded

@Charnobylisk oboy. sorry about that, it's hard to keep track of the littlest stuff with all these detailed CS sheets ^^' give me 2 seconds and it'll be fixed!

🦄 Murder High Reunion - Concluded

VALENCIA GREY

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currently at GRIMM HIGH SCHOOL
interacting with NPCS, GYM OCCUPANTS

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Breathe. Just breathe. Sure, you haven't been here in a decade, but some memories never really go away...you know what to do. So breathe and just do it. Three...two...one—

The old goalposts of the Grimm High soccer field creaked as Valencia sent the soccer ball slamming into the corner, right past the goalie's oustretched hands. A chorus of groans went up from the field, but Val only grinned as she planted her hands on her hips, barely breathing hard even after her lightning-quick break down the field.

"Damn, Grey, you've still got it!"

"I do this for a living, Tanner," Val replied dryly, turning to face one of her old teammates as she approached, the other woman panting and red-faced but smiling. "I never lost it."

"Sure, but when else are we going to see Val Grey play for free?" Amy Tanner shot back, clapping Valencia on the shoulder. Val laughed as Tanner moved past her, grumbling about still getting outplayed after all these years. Her old friend went to chat with the other teammates, but Val turned back towards the school building. Her smile faded.

In all honesty, Valencia had been dithering in the parking lot for almost half an hour when she saw some of her old teammates wandering down to the somewhat dilapidated soccer field and had tagged along. It had been a great way to both break the ice with some old pals, and to delay actually entering the school. She wasn't going to break down crying, nothing like that, but even just seeing the gym from the outside made her skin crawl.

Now, though, Val squared her shoulders and set her jaw. After a quick wave and goodbye to the others, she walked to the edge of the unpainted field, picking up her high heels from where she'd carefully removed them at the sidelines. She was still somewhat dubious about her outfit, but then again a few people far more fashionable than she had given it a thumbs up. Val kept her heels in her hand until she got off the grass, then she brushed off the specks of dirt, slipped them on, and held her head high as she strode towards the gym.

Despite her outward calm appearance, she felt like she was shivering inside. The image of Simone hanging from the rafters haunted her, just like, she suspected, every other member of her senior class—but that wasn't what gave her chills. No, just like Cynthia McMillan, Valencia had been standing almost directly under the netting when the balloons were released. Just like Cynthia, she'd been completely unaware of what was hanging over her head...until something liquid hit her.

Sometimes she still thought she could feel the still-warm blood sliding down her skin, unimpeded by her backless prom dress. Those were the worst nightmares by far.

But life moved on, and so, Val told herself firmly, did she. The sun was just going down, making her hair look like it was made of gold around the edges as she approached the building. Only through force of will did she keep her hands from shaking as she reached out and pushed open the doors.

Blinking a bit to adjust to the darker interior, Valencia slowed for a moment as she took in the room, smiling slightly. Adelaide was already there, which came as no surprise, seeing as part of the reunion was going to be at her home. Riley's brightly colored hair shone in the fluorescent lights, and Val's smile brightened for a moment before she saw the other two present. Atlas and Jae. Because of course. She paused for a moment a few steps inside the door, before mentally shrugging. Standing next to Ada was a woman who seemed familiar, someone she'd met before but couldn't remember where...Facebook, maybe? She'd gone on a friending spree once the reunion was announced, there were plenty of familiar-ish half-remembered faces floating around in her head.

Val stepped forward with a grin, one hand raised in a wave as her heels clacked across the floor.

"Dios mio, everyone, your profile pictures don't do you justice," she said diplomatically as she approached. Possibly not the most tactful of greetings, seeing as it just hammered home the fact that she hadn't been back to Grimm or anywhere near it in ten years, but the sentiment was honest.

The Pickers

aaaaand done. i'm heading off to sleep now because hooooly crap was work insane today -.-

The Pickers

Pᴀx

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Pax's face split in a wide smile as she turned towards the Veslin, but there was nothing amused about it. Her eyes were flat and hard, and there were entirely too many pointy teeth on display for it to be a pleasant expression. The Captain's fall was utterly ignored.

"Tactlessness and nihilism are my most attractive attributes," she replied, voice surprisingly amiable considering the half-snarl half-grin she'd just given Ven. "I'm so glad you think so highly of yourself, but I'm sure your old buddies give about as much of a shit about you as we do. And I'm not happy about the whole 'exterminated humans' idea, alright? I'm just not surprised."

She was well aware of her species' reputation. She was well aware of the destruction they left in their wake—she'd lived it. Pax didn't really give a damn—wasn't like she could make an entire race change their minds, even if she was one of them. But if Ven was making a more pointed reference to loss of life, they were going to have problems.

Then she turned to Riggs, settling back in her chair and taking another sip from her ration. "Who died and made you captain, gecko? The baby fell over, she didn't catch plague. And if you'd ever spent more than a layover on Nomad, you'd know they sell to Council ships more often than you'd think. Sure, the worst of the worst won't touch 'em, but none of us want to get on their radar, buyers or not." Pax leaned forward and set the jug back on the table, brow raised as she smiled easily. "No, what we want is low-level, not too skittish but not too experienced, either—doesn't keep exhaustive records, is desperate enough to make cash wherever they can. How do you think the frontier is won, kid?"

She shrugged, crossing both sets of arms, one on the table before her and one across her chest. "Nine's contact might work. If you can't see how much attention we're going to attract by being mutineers, though, much less successful mutineers, shit, it isn't my job to educate you. You, though—" And now she pointed at Cú, eyes narrowing as she scowled. "You can speak for yourself, Scum of the Universe. I got no illusions about the Council letting me walk free, and even less illusions about where I can go other than this godforsaken ship, but I don't have to be happy about risking my ass for a species that might not even thank me. If they even still exist."

The Pickers

also working on a post, sorry about that, didn't see the OOC update until now. it'll definitely be up before i go to bed tonight though

🦄 Murder High Reunion - Concluded

it's a shame, too, because val DEFINITELY thought frenchie was hot in high school.

relationships are up for val!

The Pickers

@Kassarock totally understandable, but i doubt it'll keep going this fast. some of the longest running RPs i've been involved with start out at this pace and then slow down into something more reasonable within a week or two, and i think that's actually for the best.

i'd get a post up now, but i've got shift this morning so hopefully sometime after noon i'll respond to all....this......

🦄 Murder High Reunion - Concluded

@Lady Amalthea sorry about that, i got a slew of PMs and i guess i assumed i replied to everyone ^^' after that then i'll have everyones relations ready to go, just have to type them up, and i'll have them posted by this time tomorrow since i'm on an isolated shift tomorrow morning.

The Pickers

Pᴀx

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The silence that followed the Captain's announcement was punctuated by a long slurp. Pax took her time with a gulp from her ration, her eyes narrowed and fixed on Aksel even as she tilted her head back, cutting herself off mid-grumble about how if Grick mispronounced her name one more time she'd show him just where his vocal cords lacked. She drank, she set the jug back on the table, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, and then she spoke up.

"No offense, Cap," Pax started in a drawling tone clearly meant to offend, "And it hurts me, deep in my soul, to turn down an opportunity to beat the shit out of anyone—but what the fuck are you thinking?"

She slouched forward even more, on hand smashed against her cheek and the other raised up, one of her two thumbs stuck straight out.

"First of all, you're assuming the crew won't flip out and actually mutiny after this, which...you know what they say about assumptions. We're all here because we were offered an opportunity to cut our sentences in half. If we wanted to be jailbirds, we would be. I don't much care either way, just a heads up for a shiv in your spine."

Another thumb out. "Second of all, I love Nomad, great place, the fish rolls in Shangri Ward are delicious, but I can also guarantee that if we make noise about our dramatic mutiny as soon as we dock, we'll attract way more attention than if we just shut up about it. Do you really think a band of mutineers would mouth off about it to just anyone? Not fuckin' likely. Better bet to just stay quiet."

Pax sat back, her long legs kicked out in front of her in a sprawl that she somehow managed to make look disrespectful. A finger extended. "Third, there's no way we're touching down on Nomad without someone noticing something, mutiny or not, and odds are good that that someone is willing to sell what they noticed. Would've thought you'd assume the Council would catch on before you planned this out, but I guess I overestimated you. There aren't enough guns on that entire godless station to take on a Council battleship if they know where we're headed."

She spread her hands, and her grin was as irreverent as always, but her eyes were narrowed in thought. "Frankly, Cap, if I were going to advise you I'd say we ditch the Excursionist altogether or we don't have a kytryk's chance at high noon, not with all the monitoring shit the Council stuck us with." Pax leaned forward, her grin vanishing and her hands tight on the table. "But I'm not advising you, because this plan of yours is about as useless as whatever sorry nonsense Cú is calling his genitals. So the Council might've committed genocide. It's one species in an entire tchyting galaxy—planets die, asteroids strike, societies collapse every day. What's new?"

However, in all that irritated speech, she'd never once flat out said 'no'—in fact, she'd offered suggestions that indicated otherwise. She didn't give a damn about the humans, that much was honest...but she might just take the opportunity to get out from under the Council's thumb. There was a reason the Trakqi didn't listen to them.

The Pickers

Pᴀx

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For a moment the commons room was quiet—although it was never truly silent on a ship, the lights were on low, the main monitor was blank, and the oversized refrigerator hummed along on standby. The Excursionist was a quiet enough ship in the middle of the artificial night, except on the rare occasion when there were a bunch of drunk aliens listening to invariably terrible music at full blast and no one got any sleep.

Then the intercom crackled with the Captain's voice, and the hush was further broken by a loud crash as the heavy central table jolted, followed by a gravel-rough voice spitting curses.

"Hashfed shattin' tchytkis—"

There was a low stream of invective, curses ranging from mild to nauseating, as chairs were shoved to the side and Pax emerged. It was quite a sight, a seven foot bright red monstrosity extracting itself from under a table built for much smaller creatures, but she managed to crawl out on her hands and knees, sliding out between Rigger and the newly arrived Z.

"Fuckin' A," Pax hissed, hand on the smooth scales of her head as she unfolded to her full height. She ignored the others as she continued to mutter to herself, making a beeline for the small kitchen off to one side. She smelled like a distillery, but there was no trace of any booze under the table or anywhere else in the kitchen—if there was one thing Pax knew well, it was hiding the evidence of her benders. She scratched at her nose as she dug inside the fridge, eventually emerging with what looked like a gallon bottle of disgusting green slime—what passed for protein ration on the Picker ship.

She sat heavily in an empty chair, a few spots down from Z and across from Rigger and the Captain. The chair creaked under her and squealed as she shoved it back, having to bend nearly in half just to put her elbows on the table—for once, she didn't envy the fishboy his size. A yawn split her face as she popped the top off her morning ration, her gold-yellow pointed teeth gleaming in the slowly brightening lights.

After taking a swig from the gallon, she began with a belch. As usual.

"Since I'm not late," Pax went on, wrapping an arm around the gallon jug—she had plenty of experience with Z's appetite, thank you—and propping her cheek on her other hand. "Why the tchyt are we awake?"