Reiya’s never felt more like a backwoods hick in her life. Her interest was first caught and held by the Ute Nationals, citizens and military alike, and she surveys these Amerinds with careful curiosity. But then there’s so much more to absorb as they go through the motions of the seemingly simple act of boarding a train. Absolutely everything is new to the shaman, from security bribery to the train itself to the swankiest cushions she’s ever seen. She stares at the cushions in a mix of surprise and what she can only describe as lust, particularly after the horrors of the Vantichrist. She barely registers her fellow runners leaving, until they all leave; even Mouse, who seemed eager to bury herself in cushions. Reiya debates flopping down anyway by herself, figuring that she’s going to be nauseous once they’re in motion, but decides to follow them in the end. Best not to get separated, in case shit goes down, and she may never find the place herself.
The view is startling, and fantastic. But the shaman feels claustrophobic in the observation deck, and has had enough of negotiating the egos and wits of those around her. Overhearing Yung’s order of fry bread to their suite and Noah’s directions to it, Reiya exhales, catches Yung’s eye and jerks her thumb in the direction of the suite. She makes her way through the observation deck with only a few “back off” glares to the suite, which is beyond swanky. Seating herself on some even fancier cushions, and seemingly just in time. The Sierra Express is now departing…, she hears, and as the full message repeats, she feels the familiar lunge in her stomach. Reiya braces herself, but then it stops, as the train seemingly glides. Reiya looks up, startled yet again, but finds that as long as she doesn’t stare at the scenery racing by the window, she’s fine. Settling back into the cushions—not quite as comfy as they look, but still plush compared to what she’s used to—Reiya lays her head back and closes her eyes, trusting her ears to tell her when someone, be it friend or foe, approaches.
Run #2 - Between The Rock and a Hard Place
Re: Run #2 - Between The Rock and a Hard Place
Mick struggles to break their gaze away from the view, stealing only a moment away from drinking in the not-city to determine who Noah meant. The ork huffs a small chuckle to themself, and responds, "Honestly, omae? Fragged if I know. Don't hardly know most of these..." Mick trails off, uncertain how even to refer to them as a group. It felt misleading to casually refer to the group as a team. "Eh, we're mostly all strangers, pretty much." The reflection pauses a moment as the adept's considerations light upon Mouse, the only person in the rabble they feel like might make sense in some way. Mick is unaware as a faint smile dawns on their lips. "But that one, name's Reiya. She doesn't like you or me or anybody else, I think. All I really know about her is she gets carsick and shoots daggers outta her eyes."
Re: Run #2 - Between The Rock and a Hard Place
Yung finishes his last sip of espresso, replacing the empty cup on the saucer in his off hand. Returning to the bar he places the saucer and cup on the counter. Catching the attention of the bartender once more. "Turns out I will be heading out, so if you don't mind sending the food to the Humboldt Suite, appreciate it omae."
Yung appraises the rest of the crew, gathered in the corner seemingly awestruck by the passing terrain. To his surprise Mick seems to be the one most engaged with Noah. He removes the ear buds and places them back in their case, before giving the group a brief nod.
He turns toward the door the Reiya exited out of and casually exits the observation car. He makes his way down the hall easily locating the suite,per Noah's directions. Fortunately, but perhaps somewhat worryingly, there didn't seem to be anyone asking for proof of passage.
He slides the door open to find Reiya surveying the quarters. "Not bad, seems like being a travel agent has its perks, eh? How's the movement treatin you?"
He removes his great coat and hangs it on a hook by the door before finding locating a chaise and laying back to relax with his arms behind his head. "Fry-bread should be along any minute."
Yung appraises the rest of the crew, gathered in the corner seemingly awestruck by the passing terrain. To his surprise Mick seems to be the one most engaged with Noah. He removes the ear buds and places them back in their case, before giving the group a brief nod.
He turns toward the door the Reiya exited out of and casually exits the observation car. He makes his way down the hall easily locating the suite,per Noah's directions. Fortunately, but perhaps somewhat worryingly, there didn't seem to be anyone asking for proof of passage.
He slides the door open to find Reiya surveying the quarters. "Not bad, seems like being a travel agent has its perks, eh? How's the movement treatin you?"
He removes his great coat and hangs it on a hook by the door before finding locating a chaise and laying back to relax with his arms behind his head. "Fry-bread should be along any minute."
-
Drew Buddy
- Posts: 1488
- Joined: Sun Oct 30, 2011 7:06 pm
Re: Run #2 - Between The Rock and a Hard Place
Axel finally concludes his, frankly, agonizing task at the bar. The first order of business was to scope out the hurtling establishment's paper umbrella supply, which was left not just wanting, but entirely absent. A brief period of aftercare and coming to terms with this new dystopian reality, and he'd moved on, scoping out the supplies lined up on the shelves behind the bartender. Some intensive strategizing and planning later, and he finally emerged from his trials with a cosmo, extra cranberry, and entirely unshielded from the elements. It would have to do.
He turns to the rest of the car, scoping out the transient groupings of his new coworkers. He picks a spot away from the others, and takes a seat in front of the meatspace nature show happening on the other side of the plexiglass. He sips his cocktail in silence, content to let his eyes sample this entirely new experience. With a sigh, he brings up his AR feed, obscuring the majestic vistas with the same, tired UI that has become so second nature, that he has to remind himself that it isn't real, and that the tapestry scrolling by is. A text window floats dead center. Axel takes a long pull off his drink.
<<Hey Carl, been a bit busy, but I haven't forgotten our deal. Off to Free Cal, now. Omae, this is way more than I thought I was signing up for...>>
He finishes his message, and directs it to the train car's relay of queued messages, waiting to go out once the train clears the canyon. He stands up and only just notices that the composition of the light crowd in the train car has thinned out considerably, leaving no faces more familiar than the bar tender's. The door at the back of the car closes with a *clack*. He shrugs his shoulders, and follows the signs of their passage.
He turns to the rest of the car, scoping out the transient groupings of his new coworkers. He picks a spot away from the others, and takes a seat in front of the meatspace nature show happening on the other side of the plexiglass. He sips his cocktail in silence, content to let his eyes sample this entirely new experience. With a sigh, he brings up his AR feed, obscuring the majestic vistas with the same, tired UI that has become so second nature, that he has to remind himself that it isn't real, and that the tapestry scrolling by is. A text window floats dead center. Axel takes a long pull off his drink.
<<Hey Carl, been a bit busy, but I haven't forgotten our deal. Off to Free Cal, now. Omae, this is way more than I thought I was signing up for...>>
He finishes his message, and directs it to the train car's relay of queued messages, waiting to go out once the train clears the canyon. He stands up and only just notices that the composition of the light crowd in the train car has thinned out considerably, leaving no faces more familiar than the bar tender's. The door at the back of the car closes with a *clack*. He shrugs his shoulders, and follows the signs of their passage.
Last edited by Drew Buddy on Mon Dec 13, 2021 9:26 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Re: Run #2 - Between The Rock and a Hard Place
The Humboldt Cabin is a fairly sizable room with two ornate velvet couches on either side. A small dining table is laid out with a number of complimentary beverages, a box of chocolates, and a few Ute trinkets: bracelets and the like. Mercifully, it's also sound-proof so it serves as a sanctuary from the passengers that occasionally pass by en route to the viewing carriage.
The remainder of the voyage passes quickly. Those in the viewing car are treated to a spectacular display of the Black Rock desert and the Sierra Nevada mountains. The landscape is romantic and serene-- a far cry from gloomy Seattle. The bartender supplies requests promptly and Noah doesn't seem to mind accruing a large balance. The team starts to get the impression that the bartender may be in on it. The group in the suite are treated to a bit of much needed respite.
As the Sierra Express approaches Reno proper, the sprawl begins. First with ragged settlements interspersed throughout the desert pan, then the suburban enclaves and commercial centers. Before long the view is saturated with gleaming structures, holographic advertisements and of course, the loglo. As the train ventures deeper into the metroplex, the buildings grow higher. Casinos. Arcologies. Corporate buildings.
Reno is Seattle on a three-day bender, wrapped in a garland of flashing lights. It's a high-speed, high-stakes, psychedelic concert of stimuli. Reno is like a pachinko machine made into a city.
The sensation of falling for a brief moment and being pulled to one side accompany a slew of announcements as the train arrives at the Reno Municipal Transit Hub. A light rain spatters against the viewing window, transforming the frenzied energy of Reno's downtown into an impressionist painting.
Noah stubs out an Alpaca and stands. He stretches out his arms and twists his back. "All good things come to an end," he says to Mick. "Time to earn my pay."
The remainder of the voyage passes quickly. Those in the viewing car are treated to a spectacular display of the Black Rock desert and the Sierra Nevada mountains. The landscape is romantic and serene-- a far cry from gloomy Seattle. The bartender supplies requests promptly and Noah doesn't seem to mind accruing a large balance. The team starts to get the impression that the bartender may be in on it. The group in the suite are treated to a bit of much needed respite.
As the Sierra Express approaches Reno proper, the sprawl begins. First with ragged settlements interspersed throughout the desert pan, then the suburban enclaves and commercial centers. Before long the view is saturated with gleaming structures, holographic advertisements and of course, the loglo. As the train ventures deeper into the metroplex, the buildings grow higher. Casinos. Arcologies. Corporate buildings.
Reno is Seattle on a three-day bender, wrapped in a garland of flashing lights. It's a high-speed, high-stakes, psychedelic concert of stimuli. Reno is like a pachinko machine made into a city.
The sensation of falling for a brief moment and being pulled to one side accompany a slew of announcements as the train arrives at the Reno Municipal Transit Hub. A light rain spatters against the viewing window, transforming the frenzied energy of Reno's downtown into an impressionist painting.
Noah stubs out an Alpaca and stands. He stretches out his arms and twists his back. "All good things come to an end," he says to Mick. "Time to earn my pay."
Re: Run #2 - Between The Rock and a Hard Place
Upon stepping off the Sierra Express and on to the passenger platform, the team is engulfed in stimuli. The air is muggy and thick with the aroma of the sprawl. It's that unique blend of humanity, smog, oil and wet tarmac-- small wonder then, that so many of the passengers waiting to embark are wearing masks. The loglo is overwhelming here, a constant brilliance of rainbow neon that refracts in puddles and the hull of the train. Reno has it's own soundtrack as well, a din composed of conversation, announcements, and advertisements all culminating in a babel with no particular origin.
The Reno Municipal Transit Hub is a pyramidal structure nestled in the heart of the Downtown Metroplex. The exterior of the building is a mosaic of semi-transparent geometric shapes, many of which are makeshift screens advertising casinos and car and escort services. A line of Nippon vending machines, video poker machines and trid-phone booths are arranged in formation at the end of the platform. Cordons are arranged to shepherd passengers into the departure security area.
The substantial crowd seethes, impatiently awaiting their turn to board the sleek train. It doesn't take long for Noah to locate one of the porters, who retrieves the suitcases after being passed a handful of cash. He ushers the team to the far end of the platform to escape the onslaught of passengers.
Noah lights up an Alpaca. "Listen up, this is one place where we don't want to arouse suspicion. The security here is pretty loose, but the employees are underpaid so they compensate by shaking people down. I've got arrangements, so just sit tight."
The Reno Municipal Transit Hub is a pyramidal structure nestled in the heart of the Downtown Metroplex. The exterior of the building is a mosaic of semi-transparent geometric shapes, many of which are makeshift screens advertising casinos and car and escort services. A line of Nippon vending machines, video poker machines and trid-phone booths are arranged in formation at the end of the platform. Cordons are arranged to shepherd passengers into the departure security area.
The substantial crowd seethes, impatiently awaiting their turn to board the sleek train. It doesn't take long for Noah to locate one of the porters, who retrieves the suitcases after being passed a handful of cash. He ushers the team to the far end of the platform to escape the onslaught of passengers.
Noah lights up an Alpaca. "Listen up, this is one place where we don't want to arouse suspicion. The security here is pretty loose, but the employees are underpaid so they compensate by shaking people down. I've got arrangements, so just sit tight."
Re: Run #2 - Between The Rock and a Hard Place
Yung gazes through the mangled geometry of windows, a makeshift barrier between his companions and the den of iniquity that is Reno. For the second time in his existence he is actually thankful for Seattle and the life he has there.
“Always the fraggin waiting game in this life, huh?” He remarks offhandedly, sitting down on one of the suitcases.
He looks up at Taipain, “Oye, Taipan, how much your boy charge for dis trip?” Without waiting for an answer he shifts his gaze back to one of the windows, muttering to himself, “Seems like he greasin a lot of palms for a train ride.”
Yung begins to shake a leg, a metaphor for his subconscious; a longing for some kind of action expressing itself physically. “Anyway, you got any details on the funeral? You know where it’s gonna be held, how long the service is gonna be?”
“Always the fraggin waiting game in this life, huh?” He remarks offhandedly, sitting down on one of the suitcases.
He looks up at Taipain, “Oye, Taipan, how much your boy charge for dis trip?” Without waiting for an answer he shifts his gaze back to one of the windows, muttering to himself, “Seems like he greasin a lot of palms for a train ride.”
Yung begins to shake a leg, a metaphor for his subconscious; a longing for some kind of action expressing itself physically. “Anyway, you got any details on the funeral? You know where it’s gonna be held, how long the service is gonna be?”
Re: Run #2 - Between The Rock and a Hard Place
The view of the actual, meatspace world, careening past like a running watercolor;
The taste of real, actual coffee, sweetened with pure sugar, cream and foam poured into ephemeral, delicate image doomed to destruction as soon as the coffee is consumed;
A luxury hotel suite built and purchased for use only for a matter of hours, with furnishings that certainly cost more than the payment of any job she’s run, only to be (temporarily) deconstructed, reduced to a pile of cushions in the name of fleeting comfort;
The decker has only begun to dip her toes into this new world of alien extravagance when the team is cast out into the sprawl once more. Yet, of all the luxurious curiosities at her disposal, it was only the brief, quiet exchange with Taipan that eased any of her concerns. She makes a mental note to pick his brain later, possibly after their meeting with Conrad… assuming she survives the journey by foot, anyway.
Having been evicted from her fortress-nest to wait alongside her crew, she finds herself rocking back onto her heels, more from the relative discomfort than a sense of urgency. “NOT USED TO BEING THE PASSENGER, THEN?” In fairness, she can count on two fingers the number of cross-country trips she herself has had to make, none of which were under the best of circumstances.
She shrugs at what she assumes to be idle grumbling at the bribery involved, shoving her hands into her pockets. “NOTHING WRONG WITH TIPPING FOR GOOD SERVICE. IT’S JUST SOCIAL LUBRICANT- MAKES FOR A SMOOTHER EXPERIENCE FOR EVERYONE INVOLVED.”
The taste of real, actual coffee, sweetened with pure sugar, cream and foam poured into ephemeral, delicate image doomed to destruction as soon as the coffee is consumed;
A luxury hotel suite built and purchased for use only for a matter of hours, with furnishings that certainly cost more than the payment of any job she’s run, only to be (temporarily) deconstructed, reduced to a pile of cushions in the name of fleeting comfort;
The decker has only begun to dip her toes into this new world of alien extravagance when the team is cast out into the sprawl once more. Yet, of all the luxurious curiosities at her disposal, it was only the brief, quiet exchange with Taipan that eased any of her concerns. She makes a mental note to pick his brain later, possibly after their meeting with Conrad… assuming she survives the journey by foot, anyway.
Having been evicted from her fortress-nest to wait alongside her crew, she finds herself rocking back onto her heels, more from the relative discomfort than a sense of urgency. “NOT USED TO BEING THE PASSENGER, THEN?” In fairness, she can count on two fingers the number of cross-country trips she herself has had to make, none of which were under the best of circumstances.
She shrugs at what she assumes to be idle grumbling at the bribery involved, shoving her hands into her pockets. “NOTHING WRONG WITH TIPPING FOR GOOD SERVICE. IT’S JUST SOCIAL LUBRICANT- MAKES FOR A SMOOTHER EXPERIENCE FOR EVERYONE INVOLVED.”
Re: Run #2 - Between The Rock and a Hard Place
Noah vanishes from the platform, disappearing behind a door marked employees only. The team is left alone with their luggage, standing on the platform and painted in the color from holographic displays. A steady cavalcade of passengers march on to the Sierra Express. Through the cacophony of the Transit Hub, the faint notes of Girl from Ipanema can be heard on some distant PA.
A young elf bedecked in full punk rock regalia slips out of line and approaches Reiya. A mane of pink hair sways as she bobs and weaves like a reptile, as if seeking the perfect angle from which to view the shamaness. "Oh. My. God. I love--" She wiggles her fingers. "All of this. It's so Nev-ind-retro chic." Her eyes covet the medicine bag. "And where did you get that accessory? It's just knives, honey." A pair of pale blue eyes lost in a tar-pit of eyeshadow bat in admiration. "You're like that NaN Fashionista, what's her name? Oh I could just die."
A young elf bedecked in full punk rock regalia slips out of line and approaches Reiya. A mane of pink hair sways as she bobs and weaves like a reptile, as if seeking the perfect angle from which to view the shamaness. "Oh. My. God. I love--" She wiggles her fingers. "All of this. It's so Nev-ind-retro chic." Her eyes covet the medicine bag. "And where did you get that accessory? It's just knives, honey." A pair of pale blue eyes lost in a tar-pit of eyeshadow bat in admiration. "You're like that NaN Fashionista, what's her name? Oh I could just die."
Re: Run #2 - Between The Rock and a Hard Place
Taipan starts slightly, seemingly a learned response to being unexpectedly and directly addressed by Yung. He responds with mild condescension, keeping his eyes on the crowd around them. "Takes a lot of palms to secure a border, and they all need greasing to cross it." He looks down at Yung, and softens slightly. "Not too bad all things considered, though. Truth is I don't know how this works either, but I imagine whoever Noah is greasing has more friends like him, trafficking in volume. Never enough for the corrupt."
He cocks an eyebrow at the last question, face darkening as he considers the unknown the group is wading into. "I don't even know whose funeral it'll be, kid."
The elf punker chooses that moment to approach Reiya, and Taipan's other eyebrow reaches skyward as his ears absorb her tedious exclamations about the shaman's fashion choices. Taipan rolls his shoulders uneasily. Why get out of line for a vapid conversation like this? Could she be one of Noah's? Possible. He would have said something.
It very well could've been what it looked like on the surface, but to Taipan, it looks like a distraction. Still suspicious, he scans the nearby crowd for anyone else who might be approaching or taking a particular interest in the group.
He cocks an eyebrow at the last question, face darkening as he considers the unknown the group is wading into. "I don't even know whose funeral it'll be, kid."
The elf punker chooses that moment to approach Reiya, and Taipan's other eyebrow reaches skyward as his ears absorb her tedious exclamations about the shaman's fashion choices. Taipan rolls his shoulders uneasily. Why get out of line for a vapid conversation like this? Could she be one of Noah's? Possible. He would have said something.
It very well could've been what it looked like on the surface, but to Taipan, it looks like a distraction. Still suspicious, he scans the nearby crowd for anyone else who might be approaching or taking a particular interest in the group.
Re: Run #2 - Between The Rock and a Hard Place
A jumpstart, a lifeline in this miserable goddamn waiting game. What’s more, if it feels like drek, sounds like drek, and looks like drek, you don’t have to eat it to know it’s drek.
It probably would have been nothing, air through the engine, if she’d actually recognized the true paradigm of fashion amongst the crew. But this, this is bulldrek.
“Ossu?” Yung says, rising from his improvised chair in a swift fluid motion. “I mean, surely da chillest mothafragga in dis whole station deserve some recognition, yeah?” He pulls the lapels of his great coat taut (though they already were) and begins moving toward the elf punk in a half jander, accentuated by some kind of bizarre rhythmic joint locking. “I mean, dis one.” He freezes while pointing a double finger gun at Reiya “Ha! She don’t even try. You loco, honey.”
Yung continues his pseudo-mating ritual, preening his coat sleeves and buttons with robotic gestures as he sidles up between the elf and Reiya. “But hey, chica, I’m no idiota. I know everyone got der own flava, eh?” He smiles and winks mischievously at the elf.
She trusts me right…drek I hope she trusts me.
He lifts a hand and places it casually on Reiya’s shoulder. “I could offer an introduction to our fashionista.” He says, raising both eyebrows twice in unison as he passionately extends his other hand to the shoulder of the elf.
(( Attempt clinch ))
Yung leans in toward the pink mohawked rocker, inches from her ear. “Or I could shatter your fraggin larynx, and call for help that will never arrive in time before you suffocate on the floor of this drekstain."
(( Intimidation ))
He returns his head to the middle-ground between Reiya and the elf, smiling like an oblivious idiot "What you think, dis your fashionista?”
It probably would have been nothing, air through the engine, if she’d actually recognized the true paradigm of fashion amongst the crew. But this, this is bulldrek.
“Ossu?” Yung says, rising from his improvised chair in a swift fluid motion. “I mean, surely da chillest mothafragga in dis whole station deserve some recognition, yeah?” He pulls the lapels of his great coat taut (though they already were) and begins moving toward the elf punk in a half jander, accentuated by some kind of bizarre rhythmic joint locking. “I mean, dis one.” He freezes while pointing a double finger gun at Reiya “Ha! She don’t even try. You loco, honey.”
Yung continues his pseudo-mating ritual, preening his coat sleeves and buttons with robotic gestures as he sidles up between the elf and Reiya. “But hey, chica, I’m no idiota. I know everyone got der own flava, eh?” He smiles and winks mischievously at the elf.
She trusts me right…drek I hope she trusts me.
He lifts a hand and places it casually on Reiya’s shoulder. “I could offer an introduction to our fashionista.” He says, raising both eyebrows twice in unison as he passionately extends his other hand to the shoulder of the elf.
(( Attempt clinch ))
Yung leans in toward the pink mohawked rocker, inches from her ear. “Or I could shatter your fraggin larynx, and call for help that will never arrive in time before you suffocate on the floor of this drekstain."
(( Intimidation ))
He returns his head to the middle-ground between Reiya and the elf, smiling like an oblivious idiot "What you think, dis your fashionista?”
Re: Run #2 - Between The Rock and a Hard Place
And thus, the great hero Yung rushes to the defense of poor Reiya against… a girl who really likes her outfit?
On one hand, there’s the unfortunate reality of the situation: Yung’s breaking of the unspoken social rule against putting hands on strange women in public, the fact that she herself is in no way dressed to play con-games, the probability that this could all just be avoided by letting Reiya just answer the damn question. Then there’s the more pressing matter of not wanting to draw in any more attention, particularly that of a notoriously bored security team.
At least for the socially averse decker, every aspect of this scene is akin to watching a car crash in slow motion. Shock and seething flicker across her widened eyes at the bizarre turn this development has taken. That much of the reaction is genuine. Everything else that follows… less so.
She clears her throat loudly. “Jungkook, we talked about this.” Her voice, a far cry from her usual synthetics, bears a professionally clipped tone- a clear affectation in an attempt to sound authoritative. She folds her arms tightly across her chest as she levels a stern glare at Reiya’s eager protector, tapping one finger against her arm with an air of impatience.
She sighs, casting a weary look over at the punk, “Please understand, Ms. Yellowtail has a strictly enforced No-Photos policy.” Her words are chosen carefully: a last-ditch effort to shift the apparent context of the encounter, from a lunatic in a suit to the workings of an overly enthusiastic plain-clothes detail.
She lifts her hand to rub at a temple. “We were hoping to avoid the problem entirely, but you clearly have an eye for Indigicore aesthetics.” Here, her lip curls into the hint of a smile as she turns her attention to Reiya, who has been elevated, in this frantically spun web of lies, to the style-icon the punk apparently believes her to be.
(( Con: Fast-talk? ))
On one hand, there’s the unfortunate reality of the situation: Yung’s breaking of the unspoken social rule against putting hands on strange women in public, the fact that she herself is in no way dressed to play con-games, the probability that this could all just be avoided by letting Reiya just answer the damn question. Then there’s the more pressing matter of not wanting to draw in any more attention, particularly that of a notoriously bored security team.
At least for the socially averse decker, every aspect of this scene is akin to watching a car crash in slow motion. Shock and seething flicker across her widened eyes at the bizarre turn this development has taken. That much of the reaction is genuine. Everything else that follows… less so.
She clears her throat loudly. “Jungkook, we talked about this.” Her voice, a far cry from her usual synthetics, bears a professionally clipped tone- a clear affectation in an attempt to sound authoritative. She folds her arms tightly across her chest as she levels a stern glare at Reiya’s eager protector, tapping one finger against her arm with an air of impatience.
She sighs, casting a weary look over at the punk, “Please understand, Ms. Yellowtail has a strictly enforced No-Photos policy.” Her words are chosen carefully: a last-ditch effort to shift the apparent context of the encounter, from a lunatic in a suit to the workings of an overly enthusiastic plain-clothes detail.
She lifts her hand to rub at a temple. “We were hoping to avoid the problem entirely, but you clearly have an eye for Indigicore aesthetics.” Here, her lip curls into the hint of a smile as she turns her attention to Reiya, who has been elevated, in this frantically spun web of lies, to the style-icon the punk apparently believes her to be.
(( Con: Fast-talk? ))
Re: Run #2 - Between The Rock and a Hard Place
The shaman has been taking in the scene at yet another new environment for her when she sees the punk rock elf approach. Immediately wary, Reiya crosses her arms and looks at the elf directly, eyebrow raised, trying to determine if she’s a spy or a flirt. Her body language seems odd to Reiya, but the words that come out of her mouth are a major surprise, and Reiya struggles to keep a straight face. Her, a fashionista? Please.
A pithy reply is on the tip of her tongue when Yung intervenes with a mixture of offended pride—quite genuine, Reiya muses—and his signature blend of charm and bravado. Reiya’s mildly miffed at first—she can handle herself, damn it—but swiftly realizes that her fellow runner may have recognized a genuine threat more clearly than she. Reiya deploys her trademark amused smile— partially genuine, she admits—and watches the two of them carefully for further signs.
Reiya doesn’t flinch when Yung lays a hand on her shoulder, but she has to suppress a shiver at Akela’s pointed threat. He may be the closest thing she has to a friend among their crew, but she almost feels the malice pouring off of him, and immediately knows that he’s trying to intimidate the elf. She decides to encourage the elf to leave with more subtle measures, holding her spells in reserve—for now.
She opens her mouth to speak when, to her immense surprise, their tiny decker jumps into the fray. Reiya’s eyes widen briefly at the sound of Mouse’ real voice, but as she grasps what their elf is doing, she sensibly keeps her mouth shut and strives to look both faintly bored and impressed with herself, as she imagines fashionistas generally are. The shaman listens idly and appreciatively to Mouse’s skilled impression of a celebrity handler, with only a couple of internal objections. Ms. Yellowtail? She’s going to have words with Mouse about proper Blackfeet names after this. And what the hell is Indigicore?
While somewhat annoyed at being the passive one in this scene, Reiya considers that this must be what it’s like to have people watching out for you. There’s an element of self-interest, sure, but they didn’t have to rush to her aid either. She smiles inwardly. It’s a nice feeling; they just better not get in the habit of speaking for her.
A pithy reply is on the tip of her tongue when Yung intervenes with a mixture of offended pride—quite genuine, Reiya muses—and his signature blend of charm and bravado. Reiya’s mildly miffed at first—she can handle herself, damn it—but swiftly realizes that her fellow runner may have recognized a genuine threat more clearly than she. Reiya deploys her trademark amused smile— partially genuine, she admits—and watches the two of them carefully for further signs.
Reiya doesn’t flinch when Yung lays a hand on her shoulder, but she has to suppress a shiver at Akela’s pointed threat. He may be the closest thing she has to a friend among their crew, but she almost feels the malice pouring off of him, and immediately knows that he’s trying to intimidate the elf. She decides to encourage the elf to leave with more subtle measures, holding her spells in reserve—for now.
She opens her mouth to speak when, to her immense surprise, their tiny decker jumps into the fray. Reiya’s eyes widen briefly at the sound of Mouse’ real voice, but as she grasps what their elf is doing, she sensibly keeps her mouth shut and strives to look both faintly bored and impressed with herself, as she imagines fashionistas generally are. The shaman listens idly and appreciatively to Mouse’s skilled impression of a celebrity handler, with only a couple of internal objections. Ms. Yellowtail? She’s going to have words with Mouse about proper Blackfeet names after this. And what the hell is Indigicore?
While somewhat annoyed at being the passive one in this scene, Reiya considers that this must be what it’s like to have people watching out for you. There’s an element of self-interest, sure, but they didn’t have to rush to her aid either. She smiles inwardly. It’s a nice feeling; they just better not get in the habit of speaking for her.
Re: Run #2 - Between The Rock and a Hard Place
Mick watches the scenario unfold with mounting frustration that threatens to boil over into fury. They've had entirely too much of Yung's bullshit and bluster by this point.
Re: Run #2 - Between The Rock and a Hard Place
Yung removes his hand from the shoulder of the elf, casting a sidelong glance at Mouse, but showing no sign of remorse for his actions. He folds his arms, his countenance shifting to a much more stern expression.
Re: Run #2 - Between The Rock and a Hard Place
Dice Rolls
Black painted lips part as the pre-cursor to a scream for assistance. Just as she is mustering her voice, Mouse speaks. The punk's head swivels haltingly towards the decker as small tremors rock her body. She stares dumbly in reply, suggesting to Mouse that she probably believes this gambit but probably isn't fully processing it. Even after Yung releases his grip, the young elf remains rooted in place.
An announcement over the Transit Hub's PA system breaks the spell. Using a sleeve of her studded leather jacket, the punk girl wipes her face, succeeding only in smudging her makeup further. She sniffs loudly and forces her eyes to the floor, clearly too afraid of Yung to risk looking at Reiya again. Without a word she turns and hurries in the opposite direction, quickly disappearing among the crowd.
A couple of the closer bystanders murmur conspiratorially and there are more than a few concerned expressions.
Re: Run #2 - Between The Rock and a Hard Place
Mick gnashes their teeth, growling at Yung through them, "You ever come across a pile of shit you didn't immediately stick your prissy fucking face in? We're gonna have to–" The ork is cut off by the commotion around them as they observe the wave of anxiety that ripples through the crowd of on-lookers. Rather than finish their chiding, Mick instead determines it to be in their best self-interest to put a lot of distance between themself and group's would-be face. Glaring at Yung, the ork does their best to slip away into the throngs of worried onlookers. Whatever drekstorm his actions call down, Mick wants to be far away from the epicenter when it rains down from the heavens.
(( Roll stealth to slip away from this debacle, if need be. ))
(( Roll stealth to slip away from this debacle, if need be. ))
Re: Run #2 - Between The Rock and a Hard Place
Yung, looks confused, then his expression shifts to irritation as he receives the dressing-down from Mick. He makes a unkind gesture as they walk away. He slides his glasses down over his eyes, shielding himself from the gaze of onlookers as begins to casually walk away from the group. Those close enough to witness the disturbance that actually stopped to observe in this maelstrom of activity make way as he approaches. He traverses the crowd toward a vending machine, looking aimlessly at whatever drek is for sale.
Re: Run #2 - Between The Rock and a Hard Place
There’s a surreality to that moment that burns its way into Mouse’s consciousness: the sight of tears welling up past streaked eyeliner, the lingering sense that for that mystery girl with the admittedly cool hair, that flash of violence is going to forever color her future social interactions. Apparently, that's what she gets for trying to bond with other women over shared interests.
It’s not that this is the first time the decker’s been party to some act of cruelty- on the contrary, she’s often been the perpetrator, at least behind the snickering mask of her persona. But that was always just matrix drek: a few well placed words or scripts to emotionally shatter some lolcow: a far cry from having to face down someone hurt in meatspace. On that point, even the actual violence she’s inflicted was tempered through virtualized dissociation- a pixelated splatter viewed through a drone feed.
Here she is, on the verge of some kind of emotional development herself, and she’s stuck under the gaze of the rubber-necking public, playing the role of corporate slitch.
The two team-members pointedly split off, and Mouse lets out a sigh, as though this is simply another dull moment in a life of administrative cat-herding. “Can’t take them anywhere, can we?” She muses, dark eyes peeking upward at the Shaman who’s been caught up in all of this.
It’s not that this is the first time the decker’s been party to some act of cruelty- on the contrary, she’s often been the perpetrator, at least behind the snickering mask of her persona. But that was always just matrix drek: a few well placed words or scripts to emotionally shatter some lolcow: a far cry from having to face down someone hurt in meatspace. On that point, even the actual violence she’s inflicted was tempered through virtualized dissociation- a pixelated splatter viewed through a drone feed.
Here she is, on the verge of some kind of emotional development herself, and she’s stuck under the gaze of the rubber-necking public, playing the role of corporate slitch.
The two team-members pointedly split off, and Mouse lets out a sigh, as though this is simply another dull moment in a life of administrative cat-herding. “Can’t take them anywhere, can we?” She muses, dark eyes peeking upward at the Shaman who’s been caught up in all of this.
Re: Run #2 - Between The Rock and a Hard Place
Taipan stares in the direction of Yung's departure, trying hard not to let the seething anger show in his body language, lest it give the crowd something more to gawk at. That fool is about as great a liability as a corporate contract on your head.
"They'll cool down," he says quietly, but loud enough to be overheard. "Let's get her away from these gawkers." He starts to move a short distance away, hoping the dispersion will signal the show's conclusion. And that none of them come looking for an autograph.
"They'll cool down," he says quietly, but loud enough to be overheard. "Let's get her away from these gawkers." He starts to move a short distance away, hoping the dispersion will signal the show's conclusion. And that none of them come looking for an autograph.
Last edited by Stephen on Fri Dec 17, 2021 8:18 am, edited 1 time in total.
Re: Run #2 - Between The Rock and a Hard Place
Mick weaves through the crowd, eager to melt into the anonymity they regularly occupy when impetuous young blowhards don't frag their cover. As they slink through the sea of faces, they scan for signs of a security response to the ill-conceived dick wagging that just emotionally crippled the admittedly vapid and performatively cool young elf-woman.
(( Roll perception for signs of the shitstorm, por favor. ))
(( Roll perception for signs of the shitstorm, por favor. ))
Re: Run #2 - Between The Rock and a Hard Place
Mick - Dice Rolls
Near the far end of the platform, near a set of restrooms, Mick catches a break. There are two humans, both dressed in dark blue uniforms. They clock the tell-tale signs of hired muscle: shiny badge on the breast? Check. Holstered side-arm? Check. Obvious god complex stemming from likely childhood trauma? Check. It's in the way they stand: as if poised to leap into action and become the hero that was never present in their own life. Normally Mick would snicker, but the two guards are quite obviously intently listening to earpieces. That and the way they're surveying the crowd, like predators searching for prey.
Meanwhile, the employee door pops ajar and Noah slips out. He approaches Taipan, Mouse, Reiya, Axel and Thoryne. "So we should--" Noah jovial's expression dissolves. He's obviously picked up on the lingering tension. "Why do you chummers look like you didn't just ride in a first-class suite." He looks around. "And where's Mick? And the kid with the expensive suit? I told you to sit tight."
Re: Run #2 - Between The Rock and a Hard Place
Mick half-frowns at the sight of the security team clearly agitated by the news in their ears that Mick presumes is related to Yung's unnecessarily aggressive posturing. Activating their shiny new comm, the ork relays the inevitable. < Heads up. Looks like our esteemed fancy-boy has caught the attention of security, going from their body language. We need to get the frag outta here. > Mick scans the area, looking for exits and cover in equal measure, thinking to themself, 'And we might just wanna ditch the twerp here and let him settle up for his own fraggin' stupidity.'
Last edited by John on Thu Dec 16, 2021 11:09 pm, edited 2 times in total.
Re: Run #2 - Between The Rock and a Hard Place
Taipan leans close to Noah, growling through clenched teeth. "The kid got physical with some girl, sent her skulking off, but not before making a fragging scene about it." Mick's message filters in over the comm, his mood darkening with every word. By the brief faraway look in Noah's eyes, he can tell the coyote was receiving it, too. A deep, deliberate breath fills Taipan's lungs and, after a brief pause, rejoins the tense atmosphere with equal slowness.
Despite the anger and situational tension, he manages to give Noah something resembling apologetic look. "I'll make this right. First, where do we need to be? I imagine how we get there might require some... improvisation at this point."
Despite the anger and situational tension, he manages to give Noah something resembling apologetic look. "I'll make this right. First, where do we need to be? I imagine how we get there might require some... improvisation at this point."
Last edited by Stephen on Fri Dec 17, 2021 3:20 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Re: Run #2 - Between The Rock and a Hard Place
A vein bulges in Noah's temple. It isn't hard to imagine what he's feeling, after treating the team so well. His jaw muscles work and his hands curls into fists. "Of all the--" The coyote uncurls his fists, moves his fingers to his temples and closes his eyes. He exhales slowly. "Round everyone up, quick as you can. I had arranged an escort through security but that's off the table now. Fortunately for you, I always have a contingency plan." A look of visible pain crosses his face. "I'd rather it hadn't come to it but it can't be helped. We should hurry."
Re: Run #2 - Between The Rock and a Hard Place
Thoryne simply grunts in response to the unfolding drama. No stranger to working with uncouth and ill-tempered sailors, it all seems like par for the course to the troll. Things had been progressing too well-- this was bound to happen sooner or later. For his part, he's just grateful it was a keeb fangirl and not an Imperial soldier. Still, Thoryne can sense when the tide is turning.
<< Mick. Yung. Come back ASAP, Noah says it's time we get gone. >>
<< Mick. Yung. Come back ASAP, Noah says it's time we get gone. >>
Re: Run #2 - Between The Rock and a Hard Place
Mick keeps their eyes on the security team a moment longer, hoping to ascertain anything of value before acquiescing to the call back to the group. The lithe ork drifts between the hodgepodge of (meta)humanity like smoke through tree branches, stealing occasional glances back toward the pair of activated security guards.
Arriving back at the group, the ork makes immediate eye contact with Noah. They hope that the grimace of annoyed rage carries its meaning clearly through the five feet of thickening atmosphere between them. Shaking their head, the adept grumbles, "Where's our exit, omae?" A brief pause– too brief to allow a response. "And do we even wanna wait for Rumplefuckwit?" Their stare mirrors their tone– intense and driving and absent any irony or humor.
Arriving back at the group, the ork makes immediate eye contact with Noah. They hope that the grimace of annoyed rage carries its meaning clearly through the five feet of thickening atmosphere between them. Shaking their head, the adept grumbles, "Where's our exit, omae?" A brief pause– too brief to allow a response. "And do we even wanna wait for Rumplefuckwit?" Their stare mirrors their tone– intense and driving and absent any irony or humor.
Re: Run #2 - Between The Rock and a Hard Place
Yung reluctantly weaves his way back through the crowd, only to be met with contemptable looks. His associates waiting, likely ready to unleash the already typical flurry of admonishment. He stares stoically past the crew, waiting for whatever may come.
-
Drew Buddy
- Posts: 1488
- Joined: Sun Oct 30, 2011 7:06 pm
Re: Run #2 - Between The Rock and a Hard Place
Axel emerges from the transit center's toilets, vending machine chips in hand. It is clear to any observing that he does not see any problem with this combination. He walks up just as Noah is steeling himself for something he doesn't want to do.
"Hey," he says cheerfully as he approaches the group. He pops another chip in his mouth and talks over the crunching. "Ssho, what did I missh?"
"Hey," he says cheerfully as he approaches the group. He pops another chip in his mouth and talks over the crunching. "Ssho, what did I missh?"
Re: Run #2 - Between The Rock and a Hard Place
As messages bearing varying degrees of alarm flicker across comms, and scattered teammates, namely an unchastened Yung, trickle back into the conglomerate, one might reasonably expect some acerbic commentary from the decker: some snarky derision rendered into a synthetic deadpan, probably with some lewd implications embedded into her word choice.
It never happens.
Instead, as the decker’s ‘This is Fine’ facade begins to flag, the expressions that slip through the cracks aren’t ones of contempt, but exhaustion and hurt.
Axel’s arrival is at least a welcome development, as Mouse greets the last arrival with merely a shrug and a weary smile. “Nothing much.” She pulls the strap of her bag back over her shoulder as she turns back toward Noah with an expectant, “Shall we?”
It never happens.
Instead, as the decker’s ‘This is Fine’ facade begins to flag, the expressions that slip through the cracks aren’t ones of contempt, but exhaustion and hurt.
Axel’s arrival is at least a welcome development, as Mouse greets the last arrival with merely a shrug and a weary smile. “Nothing much.” She pulls the strap of her bag back over her shoulder as she turns back toward Noah with an expectant, “Shall we?”
Re: Run #2 - Between The Rock and a Hard Place
Reiya thought she’d be glad to see the fashionista seeker go, but the look of genuine pain that crosses the punk rocker’s face and her tearful retreat arouse a surge of sympathy and regret in the shaman. The poor girl really was just trying to get a look at my outfit, she thinks with a pang. She debates running after the girl and giving her a feather or stone or something—the spirits know she’s got plenty—by way of a minor consolation, but the anger in the voices and, as she turns, faces of the other members of their team stop her. She knows the wisdom of not leaving the pack, but it’s time to rein the others in.
“Turn off the rage machines, y'all,” she says briskly, stepping closer to the most indignant of her comrades. “Our resident pretty boy genuinely thought she was an undercover spy. Bad judgment, not sabotage. And in any case, bristling like angry bears ain’t gonna help us attract less attention. Calm yourselves and focus so we can get out of this drek real quick.”
It’s among the longest speeches she’s given since meeting this lot, but she’s satisfied with it. As has become her habit, she checks on Mouse and sees the expression of dismay and hurt, tinged with exhaustion. “Hey,” she says, leaning in to just brush the decker’s shoulder, not wanting to cause any discomfort at physical touch but sensing a need for contact—just a little. “You were brilliant back there.” She smiles encouragingly. “We just need to expand your knowledge of Amerind naming customs.”
“Turn off the rage machines, y'all,” she says briskly, stepping closer to the most indignant of her comrades. “Our resident pretty boy genuinely thought she was an undercover spy. Bad judgment, not sabotage. And in any case, bristling like angry bears ain’t gonna help us attract less attention. Calm yourselves and focus so we can get out of this drek real quick.”
It’s among the longest speeches she’s given since meeting this lot, but she’s satisfied with it. As has become her habit, she checks on Mouse and sees the expression of dismay and hurt, tinged with exhaustion. “Hey,” she says, leaning in to just brush the decker’s shoulder, not wanting to cause any discomfort at physical touch but sensing a need for contact—just a little. “You were brilliant back there.” She smiles encouragingly. “We just need to expand your knowledge of Amerind naming customs.”
Re: Run #2 - Between The Rock and a Hard Place
The touch, contrary to its original intention, draws a physical flinch. Even knowing rationally that Reiya means well, the last time the shaman had touched her, she had done that thing where she’d injected magical thought-comms directly into her brain. Almost as a reflex, there’s a beat of silence, as Mouse has to reassure herself that this is not currently the case, and Reiya’s just being her usual empath self.
Instead, she flips her hood up in subconscious defense against both public attention, and her own flustered reaction to the unexpected praise. Her reaction to the speech in itself, admittedly necessary given current tensions, is similarly understated, as she merely looks down and murmurs, “Voices down. We’re not out yet."
Instead, she flips her hood up in subconscious defense against both public attention, and her own flustered reaction to the unexpected praise. Her reaction to the speech in itself, admittedly necessary given current tensions, is similarly understated, as she merely looks down and murmurs, “Voices down. We’re not out yet."
Re: Run #2 - Between The Rock and a Hard Place
Reiya knows she chose poorly in her approach to the decker as soon as she sees her flinch. Guess Yung isn’t the only one who messed up today, she muses. At least her faux pas was quiet, though she knows she'll need to make things right with the elf later. She nods at Mouse, gives her a little more space, and focuses. Time to shut up again, girl, she tells herself.
Re: Run #2 - Between The Rock and a Hard Place
Noah scoops up a suitcase. Although the coyote no longer looks perturbed, he certainly seems keyed up. Awkwardly cradling the suitcase, he pulls the employee door open. "In you go."
The space beyond the doorway is deserted. It's a simple concrete stairwell that spirals down, much like the kind found in parking garages. Noah holds one arm out and nods his head towards the ceiling. Several security cameras are affixed to the corners.
"These will be offline for a short time. Be ready to hurry." Noah's gaze goes vacant as he accesses his commlink. "We're taking the stairs to the ground floor, passing through a break room, and out into an alley. Our ride should be here momentarily. If anyone sees you or ask you any questions, just keep your head down and don't stop walking."
The space beyond the doorway is deserted. It's a simple concrete stairwell that spirals down, much like the kind found in parking garages. Noah holds one arm out and nods his head towards the ceiling. Several security cameras are affixed to the corners.
"These will be offline for a short time. Be ready to hurry." Noah's gaze goes vacant as he accesses his commlink. "We're taking the stairs to the ground floor, passing through a break room, and out into an alley. Our ride should be here momentarily. If anyone sees you or ask you any questions, just keep your head down and don't stop walking."
Re: Run #2 - Between The Rock and a Hard Place
Mick nods along with Noah's instructions, affirming, "Alright, let's get the frag moving." With that, the ork makes their way hastily toward the stairs, trying their best to look like a traveler on some official business.