MK Blitzen

Firefly - Second 'Verse

Taking Care of Business Part 1

New Melbourne, Day 2, Early Afternoon

OOC: JP between @Winters, @MK Blitzen, @sail3695

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MUSIC

Cyd glanced more than once towards the Captain as he retreated, tapping absently on her datapad between glances. Opening his jacket, Mathias peeled the exact amount Cal stipulated of Alliance credits from the bankroll he kept close to his chest. Cyd jokingly called it the Safe Deposit Box, because there was nowhere safer to keep anything. She rationalized it was best to get everything squared away,paper work-wise before buying anything on her mental list. They had the necessities but Isaac would need… Isaac?

“Eish, where did that chop get off now?” Cyd asked, glancing around briefly.

“Broekie … let the boy have some breathing room. He’s big enough to wander about. He knows where and how to find us.” Mathias assured his sister. “He’s safe as safe can be in this tourist town.” He added.

“Maybe it’s the tourist town safe from him I’m worried about,” Cyd quipped in response.

“Touche sistra.” Mathias chuckled.

Abby couldn’t tell if’n the sunscreen were workin’ or not.

She’s all careful with it, rubbin’ it inta her face, arms, an legs, even pushin’ a might up intah her cutoffs tah keep frum gettin’ burnt. Been out here a spell...sun shifted across the sky. She took that as good fortune, stuck sittin’ here as she was all day, ‘cept fer answerin’ nature’s call a couple times. She pressed a finger inta the skin of her right thigh. Once she lifted it, color was gone fer a second, ‘til it all pinked right up agin. She was tinglin’ jest a bit...mayhaps she’d look fer some aloe tahnight.

Doc had kindly checked on her. Offered a couple more ‘o’ them pain pills, but she turnt ‘em down. Best tah stay clear. A touch ‘o’ sore fer a couple days wouldn’t hurt her none. But her lil’ errand fer tonight? Buddha only knew how that might turn out. ”Pegleg Pete’s,” the girl conjured. ”Don’t sound like no local haunt…”

The clipboard in her hands give a mild flash. She opened ‘er up an’ commenced leafin’ pages ‘til she found a fresh note.

Abigail,

The Skyes are leasing the portside shuttle. They’ll come see you to sign. Rex will collect their coin. You’re off the hook, kid.

Cal

P.S. Just joshing. You’re never off the hook, kid.

Abby giggled at that, then flipped the page to tha lease.

“Aweh!” Cyd greeted, an easy smile crossing her lips as she saw the young redhead on the folding chair. “How are you feeling?”

The girl looked up from her readin’. “Uh….away?” she answered. “Tolerable well. Still a might slow, but I git there.” Her eyes moved betwixt the pair now steppin’ up. “Beg pardon I don’t git up. Jest dropped back in a couple ticks ago.”

“We’re not larny,” Cyd assured, “No need to put on airs and graces on our account. Captain Cal said you might have some papers need signing?”

Abby give a nod, her bare feet shiftin’ in the dirt as she reached up with the clipboard. “That I do. Looks like jest one page.” She give’em the clipboard tah read. “Don’t conjure it matters which of ya signs it...from what I can tell.”

“Been a while since I put pen to paper,” Cyd offered, taking the pen. “So it may be a little skeef, if that’s all right.” She meticulously wrote out C-Y-D S-K-Y-E in her best cursive, initialing and dating the papers where indicated.

“Ooh look at you all fancy.” Mathias whistled at the extravenct loops and curves of Cyd’s cursive. “I think that constitutes as calligraphy. Show off.” He teased.

Cyd snickered at her brother making fun of her writing. Penmanship was a lost art.

“Now I think,” Abby held ‘er hand up, “I’m s’posed tah sign on the line what says ‘witness.”

Firefly - Second 'Verse

Hey hi Mods! Skye's have struck a deal with the dashing Cap'n Cal (thank you for the JP Wolf! Blast as always!) and they need to sign some paperwork with Abby. Please let us know if this is something you're interested in JPing or if you'd rather handwave Sail, as we're roll with the tide sorts, but we do love to JP. We have a doc started, nothing concrete planned except seeing where Isaac got off to.

On our docket is:

-The JP with Abby if you're up for it (unless she's heading out)
-Finding Lolo (We have a post amongst ourselves in the works)

If you want to JP, we'd love to kick it, we're usually on hangouts! Let us know when works for you.

Firefly - Second 'Verse

Home Sweet Shuttle Part 1

New Melbourne, Day 2, Early Afternoon

OOC: JP between @Winters, @MK Blitzen, @Yule, @wanderingwolf

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MUSIC

Cyd shifted the small lollipop from one side of her mouth to the other as the trio waited by the China Doll, business on the brain. The beach was kind enough to provide showers so the trio could wash off the surf and sand from the night before. She reluctantly returned the hula skirt and wore Isaac’s paisley button-up tied at the waist over a pair of dark shorts. The kupe'e lei stayed on her ankle, she saved the second one, maybe Abby or the pilot or Hook would fancy it.

She still wasn’t sure what to make of the Captain - the man who remained rather elusive to date. He was quick with small talk, but then again, so were they, and the debacle in the cargo hold was no place to play chitty chitty chat chat. Now though, they had babki, something to offer, and from the digging she managed, full-fare might be appreciated.

Boots on the ramp of the China Doll, Cal breathed in the warming, moist air of Pensacola. The cries of oceanic birds circling schools of fish in the distance gave the impression that they were on a vacation, but Captain Strand knew better. Not a day went by that this old Firefly didn’t need some part or other, and it was for one of those parts that Cal departed now, at the former Ms. Baker’s behest. Before his heel touched earth, Cal saw the passengers he recognized to be the Skyes, thanks to Hook’s memory last night. With a tip of his hat, Cal intoned a begrudging greeting, still being a little sore, to Pipe, Ball-Bearings, and Blue--the mastermind of their latest accommodation arrangement, way Abigail told it.

"Is it too late to change our mind?" Mathias whispered to his sister as the mysterious Captain approached. There was a moment of silence. He looked to Cyd and shrugged. Normally there would be a 'How can I help you?' or 'hey you back are you looking to book another room?'. It made more sense now why he delegated the task.

“Captain Strand,” Cyd said with a smile, ignoring her older brother’s apprehension. “We were hoping we could have a moment?”

"Or two if you can spare it," Mathias added jamming his hands in his pockets so he wouldn't fidget.

Tipping his hat back on his head, Cal slowed as he approached the three. “I hear we’re takin’ another leg together,” he began, eyes bouncing between the three. “What can I do for you?” Instinctively, his hand laid hold of the silver clasp containing his dwindling supply of cigarettes. With a flip, a slender, hand-rolled met the corner of his mouth as he laid eyes on Cyd.

“Oweh,” Cyd said, nodding in agreement. “A few, actually, if you’d have us. My gesin and I,” she pointed between her brothers and herself, “are thinking a bit more long term. We don’t so much have an itinerary, so we’re not picky about destinations.”

Cal’s eyes widened, mouth occupied with a cigarette mid-light. Hand raised to catch a spell of coughing, he replied, “Sorry, just caught me off guard, you three wanting to stick around after the way things went… you know.”

"You mean when the Fed got his head blown off." Mathias said bluntly.

“That’s right, and way I saw it, you did a real number on him with that pipe.” Cal shook his head in appreciation. “Doc coulda been diggin’ bullets outta more than Abigail’s pi gu if it weren’t for you.”

“It was a little bosbefok,” Cyd agreed, changing the subject back to business. “Well, more than a little bosbefok. But the verse sometimes goes sideways, after a while, you learn to slide off the rails yourself. Besides, I owe your cook a debt of thanks.”

“You said it, sister,” he said, having no idea what ‘bosbefok meant. “See, I said the same thing, well--” He made an iffy gesture with his hand while he pulled on his smoke, “--more or less, to the pilot. ‘Verse is a dangerous place.” Captain Strand surveyed Cyd, Mathias, and Isaac as if he were making his mind up about something. “Glad we understand each other.”

“It’s a fact like a cow,” Cyd agreed, steeling herself for the question at hand. “We were hoping you were open to negotiating a shuttle for rent? It would give us a little more room, get us out of your hair, and the boys and I work odd jobs. We can’t always get so lucky as to have them be near port, ja nee?”

Cal stroked his chin, cigarette nestled between fore and middle finger. “You weren’t kiddin’; how long-term we talkin’? Couple jumps? More?”
.
“Till we find something better or port of call pulls somewhere else.” Mathias chimed.

“More than a couple of jumps,” Cyd said at the same time as her brother. “I got a good feeling about the China Doll.”

“Uh-huh,” the captain followed along, “and these odd jobs,” his head tilted as he said the word ‘jobs’, “what do you three do?”

“This, that, what comes up. Just yesterday we worked Ian Vanderhull’s jol… er… party,” Cyd offered. “Lekker tips from rich folk. Slinging drinks, waiting tables--”

“... And more coupons for free fish sticks then you can shake a chicken at … We get a kakspul of free stuff from those types of events.” Mathias explained.

“There’s a few sites post for temp jobs on the cortex,” Cyd continued, “We can always make bank, then for fun an’ extra creds, we’re buskers. Entertainers. Mathias here is probably the best street magician you’ll ever meet and Issac drums. Should’ve heard him last night with the steelpan,” she said proudly. “Great tips. I dance. Work crowds. So you can see where transportation would come in handy.”

“Opens options up for better gigs at popular locations. Means more, easier money.” Mathias said, spelling out the logic.

“Ah,” Cal said, fighting a smile, “to be young and flush with coupons for fish sticks. Tell you what, just so happens the shuttle is for rent, but we don’t take coupons and fare ain’t the same as three bunks at half.” Strand took his last puff from the stub of his cigarette and dropped it to the soil, “If you’ve got it, I’m open to negotiatin’, but I’ve got some ground rules.” He’d never heard a tale so full of color--in fact it reminded him of a younger Cal who’d taken on the core planets all those years ago. If he hadn’t signed that indenture, and if he had any talent to speak of, maybe he’d have roamed from planet to planet on nothing but the wind sowing oats all across the verse. But he wouldn’t have that fancy accent.

“Lekker,” Cyd nodded in agreement, a smile crossing her lips. “We’ve got the funds to pay full up, but what sort of ground rules?”

Firefly - Second 'Verse

The JP with Wolf sparked a new plot the Skye's will be running, It theoretically should be done by night 2 in-game time!

Firefly - Second 'Verse

Sorry for the confusion, we figured the date/time stamp was an easy fix.

Currently, we have a JP up with @Wanderingwolf for Day 2 so the Skyes can speak to the Cap'n, as soon as he's free! (JP's!!!)

If Rex wants a JP - we'll gladly start one with them (Multi-taskers that we are) and let you know. We have ideas!

Firefly - Second 'Verse

No worries, we’ve decided to add time and day stamps to our posts to help sort out the wonky time. Zoom zoom!

Firefly - Second 'Verse

Wasn’t that a Party (Part 1)- Day One Night into Day Two Morning

New Melbourne

OOC: JP between @Winters, @MK Blitzen, @Yule

-Trigger warning! Alcohol and or recreational drug use-

Skye’s Beach Music

youtube.com/watch?v=OhWqfZPrQ9c

“Come to Castaways, and cast your troubles away, oh, that sounds lekker….” Cyd said, reading the flyer out loud. “Authentic Luau, hula dancing, music, games, half-price drinks on the beach, come on, it’ll be a jol.” It wasn’t hard to convince Isaac Castaway’s nightly party on the beach was a good idea. Even Mathias, ticked off as he was, couldn’t deny that drinking something out of half a coconut with a tiny umbrella could make any situation better, and he agreed it sounded better than the Salty Sailor which, low and behold, was where many sailors tusit, making for a little rougher of a crowd.

Brilliant twinkling lights lit up little beachside huts where drinks were overpriced but had fruit juice and fun names like Rum and Pensa-cola. Small bonfires dotted the beach under the stars as the sun sank beneath the ocean for the night. Mathias had spent some time dobbling with the management before things got too crowded. It made the Blue Pelican Cyd occasionally sipped out of a tiki glass more affordable, even at half price, to say the least.

The Skye’s were decked out in beachwear. It was practical and packed far better than cold-weather clothing. Mathias wore a pair of longboard shorts, black and red with two large cargo pockets on either side and his drug rug, a beat-up, off-white, oversized even for him baja hoodie. He held a thinly rolled smoke with his lips as he strummed the chords of a flower print ukulele, looking relaxed, and - Cyd noted - happy. It made her slightly regret the novelty crab sunglasses she cajoled the DJ into giving her for him. Slightly. He looked sommer bosbefok wearing them.

Isaac, katjie van die baan that he was looked right at home behind a set of steel drums. Sounded right at home too. The band couldn’t help but be charmed by his enthusiasm and boisterous attitude. Decked out in board shorts covered in neon palm trees, he’d come in with a bright pink tank top and somehow managed to score not only a paisley print button-up, but a pair of larny sunglasses - something pricey Fishsticks would own - that sat atop his head as he played. His echoic memory made it seem easy. And it was Isaac - he was impossible not to like.

Cyd traded a floral print tank dress in favor of a bikini matching her hair color and a grass skirt, kupe'e leis adorning her ankles and wrists. The sand was still sunkissed warm, beneath her bare feet. She was among the first to volunteer when the beautiful dancers offered to teach some of the party-goers some Polynesian-inspired steps. Her arms rocked like waves, and her hips swayed as she sidestepped to her brother who stopped strumming just long enough to pass the dagga. Inhaling deeply, she was hit with the giggles until she took another sip of the Blue Pelican. Still elated, she handed the smoke back to her twin and fell back in step with the music. Lekker jol

Somewhere around 2 am was last call. Isaac had made five fast friends of the band, Steel my Sunshine. Part of it was his personality - but it may also have been his willingness to share his share of Mathas’ weed. Mathias had cozied up with two of the hula dancers, and, finding out there was a nearby stable at the beach tacked up and took one of them for a moonlight ride. Cyd kept busy trading notes with the in-house DJ, and found out that during night swimming she screams the same if a piece of seaweed touches her leg as she would if someone yelled ‘shark.’ It was a near-perfect way to celebrate the job they'd just finished.

Firefly - Second 'Verse

Thank you Pen! Your precursor was great, I love her “don’t fence me in” attitude (extended to sea creatures! Spongebob approved!)

Mods - we have one more in the chamber for the first night, one ready to go for the evening, then the Skye’s have to re-embark. I may have made that word up. Cal and Hook’s gone fishin’, Pen’s at the beach, Abby is laid up, that leaves Rex the first mate. Or, we’re also happy to have them stay at the Super 8, they’ll leave the light on for us.

Let us know what works best so we can plan for it!

Firefly - Second 'Verse

Workin’ For A Living Part 7 - Early Evening

New Melbourne

OOC: JP between @Winters, @MK Blitzen and @Yule

Skye’s Music

“This is where the magic happens?” A female voice giggled.

“It will tonight,” he chuckled back as she let out a yelp of delight at whatever move he just pulled. Cyd leaned her head back. Trapped like a fokkin’ rat.

Isaac moved to rest his hand back on the dial and continue working when his sister's sudden change in circumstance caused him to flinch, barely grazing it. He held his breath as he looked at the dial wide-eyed. Still on 23, he hadn't botched it. He gave a long sigh of relief and kept his hands off of it until he could shake off the tension. But that would have to wait as he realized Cyd wasn't alone in her part of the house. He quickly tapped on the bone-conducting mic "S-I-T-R-E-P".

“Focus on your job.” Mathias reminded Isaac quietly.

“T-R-A-P-D”, Cyd tapped back. “F-S-H-T-C-K A-N-D G-R-L.” Well, she lamented, Upside is this probably won’t take long. The downside was that Mathias and Issac no longer had eyes on their side.

“Can you give me a description? You remember what table she’s from?” Mathias asked and he excused himself to run to the bathroom. At least then he could talk more freely and not sound like a muttering loon.

Cyd let out a slow breath as silently as possible. She had no visual from beneath the desk, so from her voice, she tried to place the woman. More giggling, then a playful yelp from the woman. Come on, Cyd, think, she chided herself.

“I remember the last time I was in here,” the woman said in a teasing voice.

“Oh, yeah?” He asked, as she dissolved into another fit of giggles. Clothes were definitely hitting the floor.

Bay Breeze, she ordered a bay breeze, “T-B-L-E S-V-N,” Cyd tapped out. “L-M-N D-R-E-S-S, B-R-N H-A-I-R”

Mathias moved at a trot to the table chart in the kitchen looking over the names and seating. He tapped table seven on the wall thinking. “Hold tight.” He assured her as walking to the bar. Mathias nabbed two flutes with champagne. Weaving around tables and people he found his mark on table 7.

“Mr. Pierce?” Mathias said calm and pleasant.

“Yes?” He asked, breaking away from his conversation. He was an older man, greying he wasn’t either unpleasant or over pleasant.

“Your wife? Mimi? Ask to see you, privately in the office.” Mathias stated quietly.

“Oh?” The gentlemen blinked, clearly not quite understanding.

“And to bring some champagne,” Mathias said less than subtly holding out the two flutes. Apparently, the guy was thick to boot.

‘“Oh!” Mr. Pierce said realization dawning on him. “Thank you, my good man.” He beamed and sauntered off with the champagne.

“Incoming …” Mathias whispered to his sister.

“S-H-O-T” she tapped back, waiting patiently. The anxious feeling in the pit of her stomach returned briefly as it became apparent the desk she was under was their horizontal surface of choice. The worry of getting caught suddenly intensified.

Isaac knew he didn't have a whole lot of time with the unplanned entertainment Mathias just sent Cyd's way. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. He opened them, laser-focused on his target. He blocked out the chatter in his earpiece and listened only for the sound of the gently rubbing gears turning just millimeters away inside of the steel safe door. He heard the telltale brief silence, the metal touching again, and the change in pressure on the door handle.

"That's two." He whispered into his comm.

“Mimi,” a male’s voice called in a sing-song voice. The office door swung open. “I got your… What the fuck!?”

Mimi’s being caught in the literal act quelled Cyd’s fear of the same, and it was obvious her less-than-significant other was less-than-significantly happy. Please don’t instigate a threesome, Cyd silently wished.

“You son-of-a-bitch!” The male voice roared. The desk Cyd was under rumbled as the jilted man went after a half-naked Vanderhull.

“Jon!” The woman yelled as the desk rocked again. Cyd’s eyes flicked left to right as she tried to ascertain when would be the best time to make an exit. Someone got hit - her money was on Fishsticks, but Fishsticks was fighting back. It was hard to tell who Mimi was trying to help, but she threw herself in the mix.

The middle Skye cringed as she listened to the fight at hand. At least this time, no one seemed to be pulling a gun. “Put your damn dress back on!” Jon spat, throwing what had looked like an expensive party dress at Mimi. Fishstick took advantage of the distraction, and with what was supposed to be a guttural roar, tackled Jon into the desk. Vanderhull’s laptop crashed to the ground. Cyd squished into a tighter ball as she saw the tail end and legs of Jon hit the floor. Obscenities flowed from all of them, and apparently, Fishsticks made a break for it to find security, Jon and a now sobbing Mimi hot on his heels.

Firefly - Second 'Verse

Workin’ For A Living Part 4 - Early Evening

New Melbourne

OOC: JP between @Winters, @MK Blitzen and @Yule

Skye’s Music

This was an old song and dance. Mathias made his escape from the woman's claws, work still needed doing and there were so many because she could use them to keep him in one place. Mathias lifted some extra chairs to move them to the next room. He struggled with the door and the security guard nearby moved to help. Mathias nearly lost his grip on the stack of chairs and the guard put a hand out to help steady the stack. "Thanks, it's getting kind of crazy ain't it!" He said with a bashful smile.

"Tell me about it!" The guard agreed as Mathis shimmied through the door.

Cyd made eye contact with Isaac and dipped her head slightly in recognition. Just before seven, she made a visit to the washroom, which was easily double the size of the cabin they shared back on the China Doll, and without a shower or tub would be considered a half bath, despite its size. In the full-length mirror, she swabbed another coat of lipstick and spilled her hair free from its ponytail. If Gerswhitz had a comment, she’d say the elastic broke - nothing was built to last anymore. As a final touch, she dabbed an extra bit of Bluebell… or at least, a Bluebell knock-off on her fingertips before running them through her loose hair. Her belongings were returned to her small hip bag, and leaving the room, she scanned for her mark.

Ian Vanderhull was apparently nursing his midlife crisis by making sure there were plenty of attractive women to fawn over him… or rather… his money. It wasn’t that he was unattractive per se, it was more a case of the more you listened to him, the less attractive he seemed.

Still, she had a job to do and as for Ian, he needed a drink.

“I believe there will be a toast soon, Mr. Vanderhull?” Cyd said, sidling up beside him with a tray of champagne flutes and one tumbler. “For your birthday, that is.” She wasn’t sure if that was fact or fiction, but she needed him to take a glass. “Unless you prefer something else? The bartender said Jack on the Rocks was your drink of choice?” She held the tray out to him as his gaggle of gold-diggers grabbed at the glasses. The area reeked of Jasmine, the fishmongers ‘favorite scent.’ It was enough to make anyone’s eyes water. She’d done her homework but didn’t want it to look like she’d done homework, obviously, these women stopped at page one. Two of his admirers put the champagne back claiming they’d like the same thing because giggle-giggle surprise, it was their favorite drink too! Nauseating. Fishsticks gave Cyd a wry grin and took one of each. Cyd sent a look back, the same one she’d use if someone pulled up in a really flashy car or knew one of her favorite DJs, something that conveyed how impressed she was even though he literally just removed two drinks from a tray and nothing else.

“Hey, Blue, Is that your real hair color?” He teased, using an inspired pet name as she spun to walk off.

Cyd smiled back, making sure he saw her check him out. “Only one way to be sure,” she shrugged, playing with the black lace choker around her neck.

“About that Jack and Coke,” one of the gaggle said in an irritated tone.

“Bar’s that way,” Cyd let her know, eyeing Fishsticks one more time. Fishsticks made a show of downing his Jack on ice as Cyd turned, catching Isaac’s eye.

Isaac moved in so smoothly, one might have thought he snuck his board with his whisper-quiet lekker trucks into the soiree. He wove through the crowd of hangers-on, flashing an oversized smile and giving an obsequious nod to each as he collected their drained flutes onto his empty tray. He worked the crowd with his overly sweet deference as he made his way to his target. Rich folk loved being doted on by "the help" and he must have been playing them upright, what with the complimentary murmurs about "how wonderful the service is this year". Isaac sidled up to the man of the hour just as Master His Lordship Baton von Vanderhull was finishing gulping down his mixed drink while eye humping the teen's sister. The tumbler was a brilliant move on Cyd's part. It helped to make it stand out on the tray that was quickly filling with flutes. He'd have to make a point to thank her later.

"Sir?" Isaac saved his brightest most servile smile for the guest of honor as he gently poked his tray forward for Mr. Vanderhull to relieve himself of his now empty glass. The young man's voice managed to draw Vanderhull's attention away from Cyd just long enough to turn and nearly elbow into the flutes that were already on the tray were it not for Isaac's fast reflexes pulling it back just enough to dodge the oaf's errant limb. He gave a nod and maintained his fawning smile as if to say "Completely my fault entirely, m'lord, I'm sure!" Vanderhull took in the teen's appearance, his almond eyes and mocha skin juxtaposed by his sandy hair, and snidely quipped "Didn't know they came in blonde" before looking to his little coterie who immediately laughed at his little joke at Isaac's expense. Awesome. A racist. he thought to himself as he feigned a laugh along with the others and added "Only one way to find out for sure" just loud enough for Vanderhull to hear as he gave a sly smirk, turned on his heels and slipped away, leaving Vanderhull choking from the embarrassing proposition.

The younger Skye scanned the room until he found his older brother coming back into the room from the main doors. He worked his way through the crowd to intercept Mathias.

Mathias smiled, patting Isaac on the shoulder. “Let me switch that out for you.” He offered, relieving his little brother of the tray full of empty flutes while handing him a fresh, empty tray. “Don’t forget to smile! If your face ain’t hurting you're not smiling enough.” He joked.

"Pip pip! Tut Tut, your Grace!" Isaac said with the stiffest upper lip he could muster. "I'll be back for that refill." He added, smiling at his brother before wading back into the throng of snooty revelers.

Mathias chuckled, weaving through the crowd and delivering the tray at the bar. He nabbed a bar towel to wipe his hands and headed to the bathroom. With all the flutes on the serving tray, it was next to impossible to notice the small little gap where the tumbler had once been.