Igraine

The Last Kings of Orion

Hey there Heroes *waves* Nothing epic planned in the least, just lots of cooking tomorrow, and studying through the weekend - but how about you hon? And everyone else who celebrates the Thanksgiving weekend too, is included in that question there

And it's always good to hear from you Idle, and very appreciated that you came to let us know you just can't do this. Life happens, and sometimes doesn't let us play at our fun hobbies as we'd like - no reason for you to feel shitty, or for anyone else to feel "let down" because you have too much going on in your world. And I still like you very, very much too - just had to add that in as well, dear lady *grins*

As for Idle's characters, just speak up if you'd like to play them or work with them somehow, it's not a problem.

Aphelion

Yes, tea and the English absolutely do go together in my thoughts at least, always. And my experience with the British I've met has been wonderful, so I know not a thing about downhill at all. And for heaven's sake, be as patriotic - quite intentionally - all you like! You've got good reason to be!

That was a wonderful post Heroes - now everyone is let loose to write!

The Last Kings of Orion

You both have a thousand times more talent than I'll ever know! XD Long day is ridiculous and ugly, and next long day is starting way too early tomorrow. I'm just going to have to put off a post until tomorrow or, at the latest, Wednesday evening when long days stop being a pain in the arse. And for my other partners as well - no later than Wednesday. I'm sorry to put things off so long, but the new job orientation is putting me on I-95 at all the wrong times of day, and almost four hours of commuting alone is just killing me. ><

Aphelion

It's not about the length MusketMan, it's about the quality. And sorry to be so late, today's been a bear, and I've got two more days of bear to go Hope everyone's having a great night, or day, or whatever the heck depending on your time zone!

Aphelion

"Mmmm... yaaahhherlll... huhhh...mrrr... unnngh... "

This may or may not have roughly translated to, "I'll be along later Dr. Lasker. Nothing would make me happier, than to have you adjust a thing or two on my... Equipment." Then again it may also have translated to, "On the way, Captain Pretorius, wakey-waking this very minute - right on it ma'am."

Or really it may have been just a string of nonsense syllables that burbled past John Paul's lips as his conscious mind attempted to drag itself from the morass of cryosleep (this latter option being the far likelier choice). With no small effort of will, he tried to focus on something that was not the bile creeping up the back of his throat, leaving a nasty bitterness coating his mouth. He smacked his lips and cringed, not entirely sure which sensation was worse: the foulness that turning his tongue all fuzzy and thick, or the way his stomach roiled in his gut like a seriously pissed off and rabid chihuahua.

But through it all, one voice still managed to push through the queasiness and the ache. One dark eye opened slowly, the tiniest glimmer of something mischievous playing in their depths as one corner of his mouth lifted almost imperceptibly. It was a soft feminine voice, lightly and exotically-accented to the man born and raised in the deep South, and it was a really nice way to wake up, even if it was a simple report: no deaths in transit, the Aphelion was on course and the navigator would be confirming their trajectory imminently. John Paul was grateful Lena sent the android, because while he definitely did need the captain's report? Yeah, he needed Sara's expert help even more.

But that wasn't really going to stop him from some cryo-waking grins.

"OH GOD! Sara? Sara!? OH GOD WHAT'S HAPPENED!?" John Paul wailed as he sat up straight in his cryobed, his mouth a rictus of horror as he lifted his heavily-inked and handless left arm to his face. "SARA! What... WHERE'S MY HAND?"

Dark eyes wide, his gaze darted to his shoulder, and he let loose with an inarticulate howl. "MY ARM!?" he screeched, his gaze darting between the roadmap of scars and ink, and the impossibly beautiful face of the android woman. SARA WHERE IS MY ARM!? IT WAS ONLY SUPPOSED TO BE CRYOSLEEP! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE? WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!? AHHHHHHHHHH... !"

That last crie de coeur was belted out to the ceiling above, head back and mouth wide - but he really couldn't keep it up long. The cry of horror slowly turned into a throaty laugh, as his head fell forward to his chest, dark eyes glancing up to Sara's face with a wicked little grin. Nothing pleased him more than the realization there was some sort of genuine reaction on Sara's face; though whether it was a grimace of disgust, or horror, or if she was simply wondering what the hell could have happened to the Executive Officer's brain during his long sleep, that she somehow missed...

"Good morning, Sara," Preacher murmured in his thick Alabama drawl with a grin, his one arm lying in his lap now as he swung his legs up over the edge of the cryobed, feet dangling almost to the ground. "I've missed you, and thanks for the report, and... Would you be a doll, darlin'?" He nodded toward the prosthetic hand and arm, lying next to the thoughtfully laid-out bucket. Only organics traveled in the cryobeds, non-organic materials not faring so well in the primordial soup that bathed and nourished the human body during its long, cold sleep.

"Please, give me my hand at least," he asked with a sheepish grin as he held out the stump of his wrist, the organic surgical interfaces along bone and nerve and muscle radiating around the scarred flesh. "Or I'm afraid I'm going to have to put you out, ask you to hold the puke bucket for me. And you are looking far too lovely and pulled together, to get all... Spattered... "

**********

Two functioning hands made a lot of thing easier, thank heaven for the fact Sara had a solid sense of humor for an android, or... Or well, maybe she just didn't give a good damn - a thought he didn't like near so much as the first, but it wasn't like he'd ever really know for sure.

The uncertainty didn't make his shower and shave feel any less amazing, or the sudden hunger snarling in his empty belly any more manageable. Dressed in a long-sleeved black Wey-Yu T-shirt, tan cargo pants and Burberry replica aviator boots, Preacher stalked his way to the cafeteria.

"Ooorah Devil Dogs!" Preacher barked as he passed the security team with a wide grin, and then headed straight toward the coffee dispenser not a few of the others had already helped themselves. He didn't think twice about the so-called "quality" of the stuff - he'd long since lost his taste buds to the Corps. He nodded to most everyone in the room, his wide, easy smile greeting each in turn.

"Morning, ma'am," Preacher said to Lena as he lifted his coffee cup with a respectful nod, and then settled easily into one of the chairs around a large table. "I'm hoping coffee counts as water... Sorta... In a way... Sara's already let me know about the importance of vitamins and electrolytes, and I swore I'd be all over those nutrient-dense donuts as soon as they're up!"

He grinned as he set the coffee cup on the table, reaching into his cargo pocket with only a whisper of a whir from his prosthetics when he pulled the Bible from its confines. One booted foot across his knee as he settled in his chair, Preacher easily pulled the ribbon from where he'd left it in the book of Isaiah, and nodded over to the Security Officer. "Morning, Diego, and isn't it another lovely day to be floating in a tin can in the void of space?" He chuckled softly, his dark eyes falling back to the smaller print of Chapter 40.

Masques and Daggers (Derren Krenshaw & Igraine)

Galina laughed, rolled her eyes good-naturedly and fought the urge to stick her tongue out at Souma as he took her little "bribe" - and then proceeded, with a vaguely smug grin of his own, to display his own wicked blade encased in its bamboo sheath. Rather than make a pretense of "petulant child," she nodded appreciatively, giving Souma a genuine-if-cockeyed little grin. It truly was a beautiful blade and for all that Souma impressed the importance of silence and stealth as they made their "supply run?" Galina could not help but hope to witness all such a weapon was capable of in Souma’s hands.

Not, of course, that Galina - of all people in this world - should write off the notion Souma might choose to forego the blade altogether, and simply beat to death anyone who stood between them and the "supplies."

That thought made her laugh - however softly - all over again.

She readily turned over her rifle to Daisuke to store away as she slid out the door he held for her, smiling up at the mountainous man as she did so. Odd that, how trust could be given over so easily - not, of course, that Daisuke trusted her. No, likely no more than Ai did. The faith she marveled at was her own – her own trust in Souma. And Souma trusted Daisuke without question - so, without question, Galina would as well.

There was little else to say in the moment as the pair left the sanctuary of the cart. Silence and darkness were their dearest companions as they moved, Galina following after Souma quietly. He had explained the bare bones of the plan, outlined all that they intended to do, where they would go inside and how they would get out again of course, with all their ‘liberated’ goods. But this was a section of the city she had never visited during her stay in Tokyo, and Galina was content to let him lead.

For the moment the wide-brimmed straw hat hung by its strings off her back, her lovely blue kimono exchanged for the rough clothes of a working man. For the moment though, she wore no sandals, her feet and calves bound in cloth - all the better to find purchase on the steep wall he led them toward. She stood easily beside Souma, her gaze following his up the sixteen foot height of the stone wall - an entrance all their own! She shot him a quick grin and a wink before she started climbing.

Finger holds first, then toeholds as she lifted herself with the alacrity of a spider in its web, as she made her way. Mere moments passed before she finally peered over the top, cautiously, and finding neither look-outs nor sentries – exactly as Souma had said. This small section of the yakuza compound was as vulnerable as a babe sleeping in its crib, and Galina almost laughed aloud again at how apt Souma’s description had been, as if they were simply, effortlessly, gathering fruit already fallen from the tree. She waved him up quickly before pulling herself over the top, crawling the few feet toward a drop that would take her to the roof of a small shed, and from there to the ground on the other side.

As she waited for Souma, Galina pulled the sandals from the shoulder pack that also contained her shashka, pulling them on and then pulling the straw hat low over her head. At a glance, she would appear no more than a boy, her woman’s figure bound tightly beneath the work shirt (a binding that, in truth, still helped relieve some of the ache in her mending ribs).

Yes, simply a young boy beside his older brother – or father perhaps? Because this youth would defer all speaking, if necessary, to his elder - as was right and proper of course. They were simply two of any number of men occasionally hired as laborers by this clan to move things to the ports, throughout the city or even to the countryside, unquestioning and content to remain so, as long as they were paid. That so much of these goods had to be moved under cover of the night? The pay was better still, and any questions simply disappeared…

Galina peered up to Souma from beneath the brim of the hat when he joined her, flashing him her most winning grin before her gaze turned back to the ground. Her face almost completely in shadow once more, Galina followed Souma as they moved toward the warehouse, their strides easy and casual and, for all the world, as if they had every last right in the world to be traipsing through the middle of enemy territory.

Penny in the Well (Jiskastya x Igraine)

Jiskastya, I just wanted to let you know that work has more-or-less gotten away from me tonight, and I won't be finishing that post as I'd hoped. If nothing else though, I didn't want to leave you hanging, and did want to say as much!

Aphelion

WOOHOO! I'll be honest and admit I probably won't get anything up tonight, but that was an awesome post Heroes, and I cannot wait to get to writing!

Masques and Daggers (Derren Krenshaw & Igraine)

So sorry Derren, but I wanted to leave a message to let you know I'm just not going to be able to finish the piece for M&D tonight - I just got way too bogged with all the work I have to do for school at the moment :(

Aphelion

*shake fist* Darn you time zones! But good night Blackbeard, and sleep well, and catch up with you tomorrow-ish! *waves*