Aphrodite
Cabin Boy
Madame A
Everyone has their secrets. And every secret has a price.
Posts: 5
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Post by Aphrodite on Oct 31, 2009 4:55:47 GMT -5
Aphrodite awoke with a dull pain filling her whole body. It was better than the excruciating pain that had filled her chest before going under the knife.
The moment she stirred, Andromeda got to her feet from the nearby loveseat and steadied the Madame. "Don't get up just yet. I had to operate. Your stitches are still fresh." Lady A did as she was told and lay still. "One of your ribs had broken. The bone was pressing hard against your lungs. You're lucky you didn't drown in your own blood walking to the dock--one false move would have sent the bone straight through your right lung."
"Th-thank you, Andi." Lady A said. "If your ship had not come, I was worried I would have had to go to my infirmary."
"And why didn't you? Why the charade with you bringing me here as if to sleep with me? What happened to you, Aphrodite?"
She looked away, and did not speak for a very long time before saying, "This does not leave this room."
"If you're in danger I have..." Andromeda began. Aphrodite intterrupted her.
"Patient-Doctor Confidentiality, Doctor, please." Her tone was her normal amused one, however a pleading undercurrent could be heard in her voice.
"...alright. I don't like it, but alright."
"Annabelle LeValle and I have, nearly a year ago, entered into a relationship with each other. This has been very beneficial as of late, as she supports me as UE Prime Minister and, as leader of Venus, I support her politically as well. However..." Aphrodite trailed off.
"She beats you?" Andromeda said, tone horrified. "Oh my God, how long has this been going on?"
"...the entire time. She's a sick girl. Wounded inside. She takes it out on any who get close to her. Right now, that is me." One of the top five most powerful women in the solar system stared straight up at her antique chandelier and tried to force herself not to cry. "She's a good girl, really. And she's getting better. But sometimes...sometimes it feels like the rage inside her is never going to quell. I'm afraid it will kill her one of these days. And that it might not be before it kills me as well."
"...and you expect me to keep this a secret? She could have killed you with an ounce more pressure!" Andromeda said exasperatedly. The doctor gave her a pained stare. "She needs professional help. And you need not to be with her anymore."
"Please, Andi. She didn't mean to, I know she didn't." Reed started to get up, her tone now genuinely pleading. Andi held her down so she would not pull her stitches.
"Regardless of whether or not she meant to, she did do it. She beat you near to death." The doctor sighed. "And now you want me to put you in condition for her to do it again, and to pretend we slept together so you can cover it up."
"If this got out it would ruin her." Aphrodite countered. "She would lose everything. I can't let that happen. But I know you. You out of everyone in the universe can keep this secret."
Andromeda gave her a very long stare, then sighed and nodded. "Alright. I'll keep your secret. I'll pretend we slept together. Under one condition. If I do this for you, Jo's debts are paid in full. She never steps in this room to pay you for anything ever again."
"Done." Lady A said immediately. Her tone became a bit sad, however. "....she's magnetic like that, isn't she? She just draws you in. Addicting, exhilarating. She's like someone from a different era, a different moral code. You stare at her and become enraptured by her. You suddenly want to follow her everywhere, just to see if she really is like she seems to be, to see what's driving that swashbuckler spirit. You want a part of that to carry with you, to maybe, someday," Her smile became sad now as well. "Make you a better person.
"I've made myself quite the collector, you know. Certain people attract me, excite me. I see all that passion, all that energy, and I want to know how it feels. I want to see it for myself." There was a long pause. "I wanted to be with Annabelle to see what fueled that hate, that rage, that sheer brutality. I saw the pain and loss and anger. I saw the sad little girl in the center, the one who's lost so much now. She can be sweet, you know? When she thinks no one is looking. I've caught her playing with my hair while I sleep. Watching me. Sometimes she even smiles."
Aphrodite was aware of a very sympathetic look from Doctor Reyes. She smiled up at her. "I think I love her, Andi. I'm not sure I have ever loved, but I think I love her."
There was another long pause before the madame said, "You should finish patching me up and get going. You would not want to miss your sister's wedding, after all."
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Post by Cassiopeia Reyes-Hart on Oct 31, 2009 16:38:39 GMT -5
Cassi paced the confines of the room she'd been taken to, wringing her hands as she went, caught somewhere between frustration and dread. She might as well have been railing at a wall, for all her arguing and pleading managed to accomplish. Josetta was dead-set on seeing her married. Her own and--more importantly--Morgan's feelings on the matter notwithstanding. Cassi chewed on her lip, feeling cornered and desparate. She had lost everything already. The teen didn't think she could go through that hell again and survive it.
Had things been different, she would have been overjoyed. She'd been half in love with Morgan since she was barely fifteen years old. Granted, it had been more of an innocent puppy crush then, but the feelings she had for him had only deepened and strengthened over the years. If she was given the choice of whether or not she wanted to marry him, if she wanted to stay with him forever, there would be absolutely no hesitation in her whatsoever. But it wasn't that simple.
Cassiopeia knew that Morgan cared for her, but was he ready to be saddled with a wife again so soon after getting free of the other? Let alone a child he never asked for, probably didn't even want? He wasn't being given a choice in the matter of accepting them now. How long before whatever tender feeling he felt for her began to turn to resentment and hatred? How would she ever recover from that?
Cassi turned around to pace back in the other direction, frantically trying to come up with a way to abort this trainwreck that was about to take place. Unfortunately she couldn't think of a single thing. Josetta Hart had spoken, after all. It would take an honest-to-God miracle to stop her, at this point.
The door to the room suddenly opened, revealing Allison standing guard just outside to make sure she didn't make a run for it. Cassi just glared somewhat petulantly as Jane came sauntering in, a swath of white draped over her arms. "It took some doing," the smaller pilot huffed somewhat proudly, "but I found you something."
Cassi just gave her a sour look, arms crossing. When Jane laid the gown out on the bed, her angry expression slowly melted into one of horrified disbelief. "Jane!" she yelped, causing the other woman to turn back to her with a raised eyebrow. Cassi just sputtered, waving her hand toward the dress. "I can't wear that!"
"Why not?"
"Because!" she insisted. "It's . . . i-it's indecent!"
It was Jane's turn to look at her blandly. "Half of the clothes you own are just as bad, if not worse."
Cassi's cheeks colored somewhat guiltily. "Yeah, well, I'm not wearing them to a wedding!" She put her hands on her hips. "It's bad enough I'm being forced to get married in the first place, I'd rather not look like a slut while I'm at it."
"Well you are in a whorehouse," Jane pointed out with a sigh, "and beggers can't be choosers. Besides, you're the one who said you wanted to wear white. This was the best I could find." The slender female cocked her head slightly to the side, expression suddenly thoughtful. "Speaking of which, are you sure you wanna wear white? Strictly speaking, I'm not entirely sure you're allowed to anymore. Being knocked up and all."
Cassi's eyes narrowed dangerously, but before she could come up with an appropriately scathing come-back to the mischievously smirking pilot, a fist suddenly thumped a few times on the other side of the door. "There's an awful lot of talking going on in there!" came Josetta's voice. "Hurry it up, Princess. We got a schedual to keep."
Cassi shifted her weight somewhat helplessly, eying the gown forlornly before she let out a small whine and stepped forward to snatch it out of Jane's hands. "Morgan's gonna kill me," she whispered somewhat hoarsely, eyes watering. Jane just grinned fearlessly.
"Oh honey," she murmured. "He's gonna want to do a whole lot of things to you when he sees you in that dress, but I promise that murder ain't one of them."
Cassi wasn't too sure of that, especially after she put it on. The reality was even worse than her imagination. The top was made of several layers of chiffon--that were transparent on their own but were layered just enough not to be, if only barely--tied around her neck. The two separate sides loosely crisscrossed aross her chest and somewhat covered her generous breasts before tucking into the silver belt that hung from her shapely hips. All of her back, most of her as-yet flat belly and nearly all of the sides of her torso were left completely bare. The skirt was a shimmery opaque satin, that fit snugly around her legs though slit on one side nearly to her hip.
Jane insisted on a silver armlet around her left bicep to match the belt, and then hurriedly fixed her hair into something other than her usual preference of leaving it loose. She gathered the top layers and arranged them in a messy--though attractive--pile of curls and swoops, securing them in place with simple silver barettes.
Jane stepped back to admire her work, grinning shamelessly, before she shoved a small bouquet of white orchids in her hands and then ushered her handily from the room.
Cassi fidgeted somewhat as she was met by her adopted mother. The Admiral was dressed smartly in her customary red, ostentatious pirate regalia. Josetta looked her up and down, then seemed to nod to herself before holding her arm out. Apparently intending for Cassi to take it.
"Jo--,"
"No more arguments, Princess," Josetta cut in firmly, gaze somewhat stern.
Cassi seemed to slump a little, her eyes falling downward before she slowly reached out and allowed her mother to curl one of her hands into the crook of her elbow. Jo paused at that, and Cassi tensed when the older woman suddenly covered her other hand and gave it a squeeze. "Everything will work out, Cass," she assured in a soft murmur.
Somehow, Cassi seriously doubted it.
She said nothing, however, and--still barefoot--Cassi found herself being led briskly down toward one of the larger event halls. The teen gaped somewhat at the sheer amount of people lining the hallways, all of them cheering and calling out all sorts of encouragement and/or lewd comments. Apparently word had gotten out. She should have expected this--it wasn't every day that pirates threw a wedding after all. The fact that the groom was Morgan "The Dervish" Halcyon--a man famous in his own right, as well as the First Mate and former husband to Josetta Hart herself--and the intended bride was Cassiopeia Reyes-Hart--said Admiral's adopted daughter--and anybody who could manage to be present to catch a glimpse of the spectacle would be here. Aphrodite's Arms was a bustling business on normal occasions, but it had been accepting refugees from the war for months and months and was even more full and busy than usual.
If she thought the press outside of the hall was bad, it was nothing compared to the amount of people that had somehow managed to shove themselves inside it. The pretty--somewhat reluctant--bride just stopped dead in her tracks and gaped at the sea of faces that swam before her. The entire crew of the fleet were among them, but hundreds more that she couldn't even begin to identify had also crammed inside.
"Where'd all these people come from?" she hissed under her breath as Josetta began leading her inside, to a cheery rendition of the Bridal March that a band--comandeered from only Lord knows where--started to play. "Isn't there a war going on?" she continued scathingly. "They don't have anything better to do than watch me get forced to the alter?"
"This is probably the best bit of excitement any of them have seen in years, Princess," Josetta returned somewhat dryly, patting her hand again. "Best get used to the attention."
Cassi felt very near to hyperventilating as Josetta pulled her resolutely to the end of the walkway. Where Morgan stood tall and straight, dressed impeccably as he always was in his ink-black uniform. Not a seam was out of place, his dreadlocks falling neatly down his broad back, dark face blank and unreadible as he held his hands clasped before him and watched her approach. Though Morgan was never one to show emotion very openly, the fact that he looked so cold-shouldered right now just launched her own terror even higher. Which only worsened when she caught sight of Dane standing off to the side, as if standing as Best Man . . . except for the gigantic shot-gun cradled in his half-crossed arms.
Cassi was so put off by that, she didn't even realize who stood behind the makeshift podium, apparently meant to officiate this farce. She blinked in stunned dumbfoundation when she discovered that it was Anabelle Levalle--now Prime Minister of Earth. Yet one more in a long line of oddities that were sure to make this spectacle one of the most talked-about events of the year.
The blond was too out of sorts by then to really pay attention to what was going on around her. She was vaguely aware when Josetta handed her away, forcing her to stand at Morgan's side--who turned to face the dark-haired UE officer as well. All of the soft-spoken woman's words were lost to the roaring in her ears. Swamped with worry and heart-ache at what she was sure would become her dismal future, Cassi barely registered when Anabelle asked Morgan for his vows and the tall man gave them readily, deep voice easily carrying through the packed room without the faintest hint of hesitation.
It took her a second, listening to the long moment of strained silence, for Cassi to suddenly realize that it was her turn. She jerked a little, eyes widening. Anabelle just raised one of her perfectly arched eyebrows, expression bland. "Miss Hart?"
Cassi fidgeted, her eyes watering slightly as she felt Morgan stiffen beside her. She opened her mouth, but no sound would come out. Then she jerked when the loud cocking of a gun sounded out in the otherwise quiet room. The girl whirled, glaring as Dane unerringly aimed the barrel of his gun at the back of Morgan's head.
"Dane, put that down!" she hissed.
The Weapon's Specialist just grinned somewhat apologetically, shrugging a little. "Sorry, sweetheart. Mama's orders."
"You're not really going to shoot him," she snapped, though not as confidently as she might have hoped. Dane just leveled his gun straighter, aiming down the sights.
"Cassi," Morgan suddenly called, tone tense, not looking at all confident that he wouldn't get shot. Dane's finger inched toward the trigger.
"Alright!" she finally snapped, whirling back forward. Trying to ignore the defeated moisture in her eyes. "I do," she growled. As Anabelle gave the last few words of the ceremony, Cassi blew out a heavy sigh, clenching her clammy fists.
"I'm sorry," she whispered miserably then, soft enough that only Morgan would be able to hear.
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Post by Morgan Halcyon on Nov 13, 2009 6:35:15 GMT -5
On seeing Cassi, he was positive that once again she had dressed like that just to get to him somehow. Her whispered apology, however, made him shift the blame solely to the mother, and the very self-satisfied looking Jane.
"Ain't your fault. It's your blasted mother's." Morgan returned. "But I'm not sorry I'm marrying you."
"...til death do you part?" Annabelle asked flatly.
"I do." Morgan replied without hesitation.
Annabelle repeated the spiel, turning those dull blue eyes to Cassi. She looked to Morgan, who gave her a slight smile, and then said, "I do."
"I now pronounce you man and wife and my part in this debaucle at an end. You may kiss the bride."
Morgan turned, lifted Cassi in the air, spun her and bent her over his arm, and then kissed her more passionately than he ever had before.
And a cheer filled the whole room. But Morgan barely noticed.
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T.K.
Sailor of the Eight Planets
Chief Engineer
"If my Pocky is returned within the next hour, I promise you a quick death instead."
Posts: 106
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Post by T.K. on Nov 13, 2009 15:57:02 GMT -5
T.K. cheered enthusiastically along with everyone else. Mostly, he was happy that Dane hadn't been forced to use his shotgun. Madame A probably wouldn't have been happy with the mess.
He barely noticed when Angel and Shiyou hastily excused themselves. His attention had been diverted by his Department Heads.
Department Heads. The titles were a little odd, but with the size of the new ship, not to mention having new ships, he'd been forced to start running specialized departments within the Engineering Crew so that they could stay on top of things without being side tracked.
“OK folks, all shopping lists are now final.” He gestured at their Datapads. “I've divided them up equally. Should leave everyone plenty of time to enjoy the party as well as get some work done. Hell, we should all be able to actually have some fun this time.”
“Uh boss, you might want to hold off on that.” T.K. turned to Ryan, the followed where he was pointing. “I think you're going to have other things to deal with.”
He looked over where Cassie was getting ready to toss her bouquet. Trying to spot what Ryan was pointing at. He noticed some jostling among the gathered females, which he assumed was normal for this sort of thing. After all, the last wedding he had attended was when he was five.
It wasn't until the bouquet was arcing through the air that he spotted the problem.
“Forget it you Pixelated strumpet! You don't even have a real body!”
“At least I have a real brain, you hormone addled piece of genetic riffraff.”
T.K. looked on in horror as they both grabbed the bouquet with one hand. Angel proceeded to try and hit Shiyou's off switch, while Shiyou started pulling Angel's hair.
“Ryan.”
“Sir?”
“Find me a steady supply of the highest grade alcohol you can find. I have a feeling I don't want to remember today.”
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Ulysses Grante
Cabin Boy
Every man has their toys. Mine just happen to be plastic, with realistic kung-fu grip.
Posts: 15
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Post by Ulysses Grante on Nov 16, 2009 11:33:02 GMT -5
Ulysses skirted the perimeter of the massive reception, a huge piece of wedding cake in his hand. Of which he munched on cheerily, doing his best not to stare too hard at all the scantily clad women who flitted here or there like lustful little butterflies. Really, was it necessary to flaunt all that flesh so blatantly? How was a man supposed to think coherently with that kind of thing right under his nose? Then again, maybe that was Madam A's intent . . . ?
At any rate, he'd received no end of ribbing from Thorn and Graham from his reaction when they'd first arrived. He didn't want to give them any more weapons in their arsenal of teasing, so Uly did his best to go with the flow and act like such overt sexual displays were commonplace. From the near-constant purplish blush on his face, likely the only person Ulysses was fooling was himself, unfortunately.
A few more moments of aimless wandering, and after finishing off the last of his third piece of cake, Ulysses spotted Dagger near the edge of the press. He debated with himself for a minute or so but, tired of skittering in her shadow like a mouse, he managed to straighten his posture and take the few steps needed to put him near.
"Uh, hey," he called, tone friendly if somewhat nervous. The strong female swung slightly in his direction, eyebrow raised.
"Hey," she returned, her mismatched eyes cautious and guarded. Ulysses tried to still the rising panic inside, feeling as though his stomach was about to come flying up out of his mouth at any minute.
"So . . . nice party, huh?" he managed somewhat inanely, wincing at the stupid topic. He motioned toward the refreshment table. "The cake is pretty girl--good! Uh, p-pretty good," he covered quickly, swallowing. Praying she hadn't caught the slip. When Dagger just continued to stare at him questioningly, he managed a somewhat nervous chuckle. "If you haven't had any yet, I definitely reccomend it. It's the breast--BEST!" he yelped again, eyes widening, jerking his gaze upward and away from the offending bodypart that it had just skimmed almost against his will. "Best cake I, uh, ever . . . I . . . I have space dementia," he finally blurted somewhat morosely. "I dunno if anybody's ever told you that. Yeah. Completely cracked. I'll just . . . I'll just get outta your way now."
And with that he spun around and trotted off. Stupid, stupid, stupid! Even if he wasn't actually crazy, she'd probably believe it whole-heartedly now. That was by far the most awful attempt at conversation he'd ever had in his life.
Deflated, Ulysses made his way back to the ships, heading for the bridge of the Ragnarok where the bulk of his toys had been moved. The Mage was probably better off being alone, anyways, with no one to hear or see him screw up except the action figures that couldn't talk back. Or hurt him.
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Willie Barbary
Buccaneer
Pilot
It's worse when you know that hell is coming, but nobody else will believe you . . . .
Posts: 52
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Post by Willie Barbary on Nov 16, 2009 11:52:53 GMT -5
Not far away, Willie and Jane watched Ulysses' somewhat pathetic attempts at not being unsettled by all the beautiful women flitting about. When he attempted to talk to Dagger, both women visibly winced.
"Aw man, it's worse than a friggin' trainwreck," the more curvy of the two groaned aloud.
"Geez," Jane murmured beside her. "It's almost too painful to watch."
The two watched him fumble a bit more before he turned abruptly and trotted away. Obviously retreating back to the safety of the ships, and solitude. Willie shook her head, hands on her hips.
"We gotta do something about this," she pronounced affirmatively. Jane thought for a moment, then smirked.
"I think it's about time that our pal Uly has some fun, don't you?" Her grin suddenly had all the properties of a cheshire cat. "I'd bet it'd loosen him up good." Willie gazed at her for a moment, uncomprehending, before an answering broad grin started to form on her own face. Miller, holding Joey nearby, just sighed a little and rolled his dark eyes heavenward, but didn't bother to try and stop them.
"I'll go halvsies."
"Deal."
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lynn
Cabin Boy
Posts: 17
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Post by lynn on Nov 16, 2009 12:19:02 GMT -5
Lynn spent alot of time going through the folders Patches was nice enough to pop on her screen. After she finished reading them she filtered through the crew files trying to get a feel for those she now worked with.
After a couple of hours of sitting in place she got bored of files. Lynn rolled her shoulders and stood up. She decided that it might be a good idea to check out the other two ships docked on Plunder' Heart.
Closing the folders on the screen she made her way to where they where and marveled again at how amazing this ship was. She made her way onto the Ragnarok and started to look around.
Eventually she made her way to the bridge and was surprised to see someone on board. "Oh! Hi I thought everyone was at the party. Are you busy? I am not interrupting anything am I?" Lynn smiled at the man as she rattled on.
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Ulysses Grante
Cabin Boy
Every man has their toys. Mine just happen to be plastic, with realistic kung-fu grip.
Posts: 15
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Post by Ulysses Grante on Nov 16, 2009 12:54:35 GMT -5
Ulysses sat in the semi-dark of the bridge aboard the Ragnarok, the only light being cast by various systems screens that were still up and running. He sat in the pilot's chair, his hands folded across his middle, his booted feet crossed at the ankle and propped up on the console in front of him. His yellow-gold eyes stared at nothing, strangely silent and still, while he let his troubled thoughts wander. All around him was quiet, the only noises being the soft sounds of a deserted ship, sounds that he had long since become accustomed to. What might have startled or unnerved anyone else, to him it was almost like a soothing lullaby.
Thinking himself completely alone, Ulysses jerked all the harder when he felt something suddenly touch his shoulder. The gray-skinned mage wrenched upward with a loud yelp, throwing himself off balance and therefore tumbling ass over teakettle out of the chair with a thump.
"Oh, hey," a tinkling female voice suddenly called, "geez, are you okay? I didn't mean to scare you."
Ulysses slowly pushed himself upward, and then gawked somewhat baldly at the tall, beautiful blond woman who stood near-by. She was dressed in a slinky blue satin . . . thing . . . which showed off every feminine asset she had to it's best degree. And there were a lot of them to be shown off. Seeing his bowled-over expression, her own stricken one eased into a more sultry, seductive smile.
"So . . . you're Ulysses, right?"
"Uh . . . j-just Uly . . . is fine," he managed to squeak, rather unmanly, before shoving himself back to his feet. "Wh-who are you? And what . . . what're you doin on the ship?"
The woman glided closer, and Ulysses visibly flinched when she raised a hand and slid it up the wall of his chest, curling over his shoulder. Her seductive smile never wavered. "I'm called Starr," she murmured softly. Even her tone of voice was alluring. "And some friends of yours thought you might like my company."
"Oh," he returned somewhat bluntly. Her fingers skimmed the edge of his scarf before managing to unwind it deftly from around his neck almost before he knew what she was even doing. Her smooth fingers skimmed the naked skin of his throat and he jumped again, this time backward and just out of her reach. "Well, uh, I-I-I have to say, I'm not exactly very good company. I wouldn't know what to do." She started advancing toward him, looking unruffled by his being obviously unsettled and immediately backing away the steps she took forward.
"I'm sure if we thought about it, we could think of something to do," she returned softly, playfully.
Ulysses gulped, and skittered another step back. He might be dense in a lot of things, but even he wasn't naive enough to mistake her meaning. He hit the wall a moment later and jerked again with another yelp. She was against him in the next breath, pressing her soft, supple body to the full length of his. Almost taller than he was, Starr merely combed the fingers of one hand into the thick, messy black hair at the back of his head and bent slightly to press her mouth to his.
She was kissing him. He was actually getting kissed by a girl. So dumbfounded by that unique experience, the Mage stood stock still and allowed her to continue for a moment or two. When Starr's deft fingers began on the buttons of his floral-print shirt, he managed to come back to reality. Ulysses ducked away slightly from her mouth, reaching up to catch her hands and hold them still.
He saw her pretty brow furrow slightly in confusion and he swallowed somewhat. "Uh, s-sorry, but I . . . I've never done this before, and--,"
Her smile came back, slightly warmer than before. "It's alright, sweetheart," she purred. "It won't be the first time I've taught a guy the ropes. I know what to do, I promise," she teased. Starr attempted to free her hands, but Ulysses held fast. All at once, the nervous adgitation left him, replaced with a gentle and quiet sort of strength that gave the far more experienced woman pause.
"You're a very pretty woman, Starr," he murmured softly, "and I've no doubt you're also very, very good at your job. But that's all this is to you. A job. Not that there's anything wrong with that," he continued quickly, giving her fingers a gentle squeeze. "But . . . I kinda want my first time to mean something more. I want the feeling behind it, not just the act. I want it to be special. For a girl to look at me like . . . well, like the way my mom used to look at my dad. Like I was her everything."
Starr stared at him silently for several heartbeats, looking stunned. And then, very slowly, she started to smile. A real smile, the first one she'd given since she'd approached him. After a moment she pulled her hands free and reached up to frame his face before leaning in to plant a gentle kiss to his brow. Then she backed away.
"You're a rare one, Uly," she murmured softly, blue eyes soft. And almost sad. "And wherever that girl is out there, I think she's going to be very, very lucky." Uly smiled a little at that, grateful that she at least understood. There was a heartbeat or two of silence, and then Starr's smile turned more teasing. "Well, your friends paid a pretty sum for my attention for the next hour. Is there anything else you want to do while you have me all to yourself?"
Ulysses paused a moment before his eyebrow lifted, golden eyes turning hopeful. "D'you like action-figures?"
Though bemused, Starr actually sat down with him and sorted through his massive collection. He was hesitant at first, but when she didn't laugh outwardly at him he grew a little more confident in showing them off. It was probably mostly her professionalism that had her staying the entire hour, though he liked to think that the laughter and smiles he managed to get weren't all practiced or forced. And hoped the glint of affection in her blue eyes wasn't a trick of the light when Starr finally got to her feet and murmured goodbye.
Ulysses sighed somewhat happily, resituating himself in the pilot's chair afterward. Hoping he'd managed to make a friend, and marveling over the uniqueness of that concept. Even Willie and Jane, while friendly, tended to treat him like an annoying little brother. The same went for Thorn, Lyra and Graham. Starr had been . . . a unique experience. Not the one she'd been paid to give him, but enriching nonetheless.
The dark-skinned mage suddenly turned as another entered the bridge, this one easier to detect than the last. He recognized her as one of the new faces they'd aquired on the Cove.
Ulysses smiled a little at her somewhat nervous spiel. Like recognizing like, no doubt she was more used to being on her own the same as him. "Nah, you're not interrupting. And I was at the party, but I'm used to being on my own. Big crowds still kinda freak me out a little. I like the quiet."
Of course, he wasn't going to mention anything about putting his foot in his mouth with Dagger, or how unsettled he'd been by all the scantily clad women in the room. No need to embarrass himself if he didn't have to.
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Graham Vega
Cabin Boy
The only 'Special Mamba Training' you're going to see is me killing you if you keep asking about it.
Posts: 7
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Post by Graham Vega on Nov 16, 2009 13:40:10 GMT -5
"Did you know that 65% percent of deaths involving a firearm are caused by accidental misfiring?"
Graham didn't pause in his careful inspection of the guns Thorn had aquired for him in his new position, despite his . . . cheerful . . . AI's bland, monotoned assessment.
Lola hovered nearby using the device that the head Engineer, T.K., had made for her shortly after arriving. PHD, or something like that. The raccoon-girl had grudgingly accepted the gift, at first convinced that it was somehow meant to torture or punish her. It had taken Graham a solid hour of arguing to convince her otherwise. She folded her hands in front of her now, both swallowed up by the over-long sleeves of the baggy white-and-black striped shirt she was wearing. There was another moment of silence, then,
"Every time you fiddle with that safety, there's a one in three-hundred-and-seventy-six chance of it jamming."
Graham hesitated for a fraction of a second before finishing with that particular side arm and setting it aside. He reached for one of the pump-gauge rifles.
"6 in 10 cases of gunshot wounds are caused from friendly fire--,"
"You don't have to be here if you don't want to, Lola," he finally called, tone somewhat loud with exaspiration. The holographic image wavered slightly. Almost as if he'd hurt her feelings, though her bland expression never wavered.
"Do you wish to reset me, Master? Shall I destroy my memory-banks and start fresh? Or perhaps you wish to replace me entirely? Shall I connect you to Vero Industries to order a new unit--,"
"Lola!" At his sharp bark, she finally subsided. Graham sighed then, long and heavy. "I don't want to get rid of you, and I don't want you to reset yourself. I just meant that, if you're bored, you're free to roam about the ship. Maybe go and socialize with the other computer systems. That's why they gave you that contraption you're hooked into, remember."
The image seemed to fidget slightly, and her dark eyes dropped a little to the vicinity of his chest. "I do not . . . I have not been programmed how to socialize, Master."
Graham felt his expression softening. It was hard to keep telling himself that she was only a computer program, when her responses were like that, eerily human. Eerily aware. "It's not too hard, little bit," he murmured somewhat playfully. "I promise."
Lola seemed to fidget again, then, "Do you wish me to leave, Master?"
He sighed again. "I wish you to do whatever you want to do."
Her dark eyes lifted up again, steady and determined. "I wish to stay with you, Master." And for some reason Graham felt himself smiling, something in his heart turning over. He nodded.
"Alright then. Just . . . lay off the statistics, will yah?" he pleaded then, tone somewhat teasing. "It's playing hell on my concentration.
The edges of her mouth softened. Probably the closest she'd ever come to actually smiling, before she nodded. Her long, bushy, ringed tail twirled somewhat behind her jeans-clad legs, while her tiny hands tugged somewhat on a hank of her long black hair. She watched him work silently for all of about five minutes.
"Did you know that fifteen in twenty pirate deaths are attributed to fatal gunshot wounds?"
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lynn
Cabin Boy
Posts: 17
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Post by lynn on Nov 16, 2009 14:33:41 GMT -5
Lynn smiled and walked closer to the man "Hi I am Lynn!" She offered out her hand to him "Your Ulysses Augustine Grante right? I saw your file. I am not like stalking or anything!" Lynn blushed as she realized how that must sound.
"I was just reading up on the ships and the crew you know so I get a feel for everyone and know who I report to and things like that! No not stalking...I said that already didn't I. Sorry I am a bit nervous..." Lynn ran her hand along the wrench at her belt as if seeking comfort from it.
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Ulysses Grante
Cabin Boy
Every man has their toys. Mine just happen to be plastic, with realistic kung-fu grip.
Posts: 15
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Post by Ulysses Grante on Nov 16, 2009 15:36:59 GMT -5
Ulysses smiled a little, and took her hand for a tiny shake before she pulled away and began petting her wrench, almost like a security blanket.
"Nice to meet ya, Lynn. And yeah, I'm Ulysses, though most people call me Uly. Saves on oxygen. New pilot of the Ragnarok. What about you? Got picked up off the Cove, didn't you?"
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lynn
Cabin Boy
Posts: 17
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Post by lynn on Nov 16, 2009 15:57:13 GMT -5
Lynn nodded "Nice to meet you. Yes I managed to luck out and Graham found me. And the Admiral was nice enough to give me a chance!" Lynn smiled proudly at that fact.
"So how long have you been part of the crew?" Lynn looked around for a spot she could sit, she noticed the action figures and tilted her head to the side a bit "What are these?" she moved closer to them as she looked them over closely clearly interested but not sure if it would be okay to touch them.
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Ulysses Grante
Cabin Boy
Every man has their toys. Mine just happen to be plastic, with realistic kung-fu grip.
Posts: 15
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Post by Ulysses Grante on Dec 30, 2009 19:41:33 GMT -5
"Oh, not long," Uly murmured cordially, with a faintly goofy side-ways grin, utterly artless. "I got pinched by the U.E. right at about the same time that Captain Scarsgaard did, so when the Admiral came rescuing, I ended up along for the ride." He shrugged then. "Admiral asked if I wanted to join up, and I said yes. I'd been on my own for a long time. It's nice to be around others." He smiled at her and indicated with a nod that she could touch his action figures with an encouraging nod.
These were the ones meant to be handled, after all. His most important ones were still in their protective plastic, safely locked away now where the demon-mutt would never find them. He sighed a little as the small girl began gingerly picking through his toys, eyes wide with insatiable curiosity. He kept speaking in a low mutter, just letting his thoughts wander out loud.
"Mostly, it's nice," he revealed. "But you spend that much time out in the black with nobody but yourself for company, you start to get . . . used to it. As sad as it sounds, I'm more comfortable alone now than in a crowd. Lots of people . . . make me nervous, I guess. So I retreat here," he finished, indicating the empty bridge with a small sweep of his arm. His gray-skinned face was caught somewhere between amusement, chagrin and a wry sneer. "Back to solitude. To what I know best."
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Post by Annabelle LeValle on Mar 20, 2010 8:16:29 GMT -5
Thorn Scarsgard was slumped at the bar, a drink in front of him. Annabelle Levalle sat, suddenly, next to him. "Not surprised you're getting drunk on swill, pirate." The Prime Minister said after a moment eying his drink. "Barkeep, the usual. Two glasses."
The bartender robot reached under the counter and pulled out an ancient, well aged, incredibly rare bottle of brandy.
Thorn was stunned, but quickly developed a hateful, distasteful glare. "...what in the hell do YOU want? Can't even manage to let me get drunk in peace?"
LeValle poured a shot and downed it in one swift motion. She then poured two more, one for each glass. "I wanted to share my million-dollar liquor."
The pirate maintained a steady glare for several heartbeats before reaching out and downing the other shot, as if answering a dare from the one-handed woman.
Annabelle poured them both another shot and paused, holding the drink in her hand thoughtfully before downing it. "Tell me, Thorn. When you close your eyes and think of UE, what do you see?"
Thorn's jaw was tight, and he was quiet for a long moment before answering. "I see the men who slaughtered my mother, all because she dare to love a pirate and dream of freedom for their son. I see the woman who tortured and near-mutilated my little sister for nothing more than a scrap of information she never head." His voice was low and shaking. "I see monsters."
Annabelle said nothing at first and closed her eyes, appearing to concentrate on the matter for a moment. "I see over ten billion honest, hard-working men and women."
The pirate said nothing, a guarded expression on his face. LeValle opened her eyes and took another shot.
"When you close your eyes and think of pirate and outlaws, what do you see?" She asked, pouring herself another.
"Freedom." He replied, not hesitating for a moment.
Annabelle closed her eyes again. "I see people who make their living stealing from ten billion honest, hard-working men and women. People who have decided that that are more important than those who work day and night for the living that they are stealing."
Thorn sneered at that. "Well, everybody's entitled to their opinion." He threw back another shot. Annabelle downed hers as well and poured them both another.
"How do you make your money, Thorn?" She asked, her voice not accusatory, not self righteous, but the same, dead tone she always had.
He gave an unapologetic glare at that. "I'm a pirate, how the hell do you think? 'Pillage and sack,'" He quoted stubbornly, refusing to show even a shred of guilt. "'And give nothing back."
"And where does the plunder some from? The ether of space? Was it all created by evil technicians and wicked bankers in the vast conspiracy that consumes all of UE?" Her deadpan monotone continued. "Do you every baker a Mamba, every bus-driver a mage-degrading slaver?"
Thorn sneered at that. "If you're trying to make me 'repent my evil ways,' save your breath. I didn't become a pirate because I wanted revenge against the 'evil machine.' I don't give a shit about the UE, or the people in it. I look out for me and mine. That's it."
Annabelle gave him a long, gold glance before downing her drink and pouring another. "Why on earth would I expect you to repent, when I have no intention of doing so myself?"
The pirate growled, "So what the hell is it that you want? You want me to admit that I'm not better than you? Worse than you?" His pale eyes narrowed to frigid slits." "Well that ain't ever gonna happen. I steal for a living, and yes, I've killed men before. But never without a weapon in their hands, doing their damndest to kill me too. I've never cut down a defenseless woman in front of her own child. I've never beaten and tortured someone, for anything. Am I evil? Maybe. But you, lady, are in a whole 'nother realm of fucked up."
"Well, yes. I am a monster." LeValle replied in an extremely matter-of-fact tone.
The pirate's eyebrows raised somewhat against his will, obviously not expecting that admonition.
"I murder, I torture. I commit all sorts of atrocities. Because I believe that the UE is something good. The people in charge are not always good, but the people....the people need to be protected. No matter the cost." She paused to take another shot. "I will always be a monster, like you will always be a thief. But, as you say, your thoughts and desires will always be towards yourself. But mine are always towards the whole. I am a monster, but what I do, I do for something better than myself, pirate." Her glass was re-filled, only to be emptied again. "Because if I ever merely did what I desired, I would be dead, and it would not be by another's hand."
Thorn grumbled, partially under his breath, taking another drink himself, and drink loosening his tongue. "My uncle thought like you. Believed he was serving a 'higher power.' And for that, he consigned his wife and son to a lifetime of servitude, little better than dogs in a kennel." He gave her another chilling stare. "Quite frankly, I don't give a damn why you did it, or why you think you're justified in the grander scheme of things. You hurt one of the only pieces of family I got left in this shit-hole universe. And I don't really give a fuck what Hart or Aphrodite says, that's not something I ever forget."
"So you don't believe the ends justifies the means?" Annabelle countered.
"Not always. There are some 'means' that shouldn't be used, some lines that should never be crossed, I don't care what the end is." His pale eyes suddenly left Annabelle and swept the room, distant and strangely sad, tone now softer and farther away. "All you gotta do to save the galaxy is slaughter a handful of children. Kids who've seen more torture and hate and pain in their short years than most see in a lifetime. Just babies. You wonder if they don't deserve their hate. You wonder if they don't deserve their revenge." He gave a slight pause. "Kill them, and everything goes back to the way it was. But no matter how justified or righteous anyone might want to make it, the victory will be tainted. Nothing will ever be the same. We would never be the same. How can it be worth it, when the cost is so high?"
"One of them is my niece. The ringleader. She's sixteen years old and I've never seen her in person. I never even knew she existed." Annabelle stared at the bar in front of her, her tone almost sad. "The man I though to be perfect and good raised her to be a sadistic killing machine. I guess he did the same thing to me. We have both failed the only person who saw any good in us. Everyone in my family is either dead, a monster, or both. I am a monster. I cannot save her, even if I try. My role is to be a monster. It's the part I have been cast in. In order for me to stop Clara, I have to kill her." She paused, and took another drink, this time straight from the bottle. The bottle of obscenely expensive liquor was getting dangerously close to empty. "...only a hero could save her. Do you know any true heroes, pirate?" She passed Thorn the bottle.
"The time of heroes are long gone, now." He paused, and took the bottle, a lopsided smirk on his mouth before he took a deep swig. "And there's only one person I know who seems perpetually stuck in the wrong era." He passed the nearly empty bottle back. "Hart's the best of us. I dunno why. I dunno how. But she is." The pirate captain gave a small shrug. "If anyone can save them, it'll be her."
Annabelle drained the rest of it and sighed, eying the bottle dismally. "Half of that over the course of three years. Half over the course of half an hour."
Thorn tried his best not to smirk. It partially failed. "Yeah, well . . . apparently nobody ever told you it's dangerous to drink with a pirate."
Annabelle gave a thoughtful, momentary pause. "...When you close your eyes, and think about them, what comes to your mind when you think Mamba?"
Thorn was only silent for a moment. "Cold discipline. Iron will. Power." That lead to an almost involuntary shudder. "And power corrupts."
Annabelle closed her eyes, and then opened them, raising her empty glass in a toast. "At last, we agree on something."
After several minutes of drinking with his bitter enemy, Thorn lost the battle against smiling.
Annabelle checked her pocket watch. "...I get to get back to being a head of state in a few hours. Going to pay a visit to my fellow Head of State." She rose and tossed several credit chips as a tip for the robot bartender. "Goodbye, pirate."
Thorn hesitated, and then replied, with some measure of endearment. "Goodbye, monster."
Annabelle made her way through the halls of the Aphrodite Arms, more than a little drunk, and eventually found Aphrodite herself's room. The UE Prime Minister opened the door, and was briefly startled to see Andromeda Reyes in the room, tending to Aphrodite.
She reached for her sword a split second before she shrugged and sighed. "Oh. It's you."
The doctor was, at first, afraid. Then she mustered up some of her professional courage and said, "You had ought to be leaving. Aphrodite is in no condition to entertain, and certainly in no shape for anything strenuous."
"So are you going to watch and referee, then?" The cold woman asked in her deadpan, unbuttoning her jacket and starting to undo her sword belt.
Dr. Reyes managed to look both stern and nervous at the same time. "Aphrodite and I have struck a bargain, and while I remain, I am responsible for her care and continued recovery."
Annabelle gave her a cold stare, and then hung up her sword and jacket. "If you tell anyone I'll have you killed." She said in an almost impossibly casual tone.
The doctor's face paled, her eyes widened, but she resolutely stood her ground.
"You don't like that I hit her, do you? That I nearly kill her on a regular basis?" Annabelle's voice had a slight hint of some emotion to it--something very close to shame.
Andromeda stood perfectly straight and unapologetic. "Of course I don't like it. I'm a doctor. What you both are doing is extremely dangerous and very unhealthy, possibly fatal." She paused, and her tone became softer, and extremely reluctant. "But it's not my place to pass judgement."
"Of course not. You're a criminal. That is what happens to you." Annabelle replied somewhat flippantly.
Andromeda lifted her eyebrow haughtily at her. "Excuse me?" She said, somewhat indignant.
"My love, do not antagonize my physician." The leader of Venus said somewhat weakly. "And Andi, I believe Annabelle is joking. Hard to fathom, I'm aware."
"I am slightly intoxicated. Stranger things have happened while drunk. Not terribly many. Go, doctor. I will not hurt her tonight. I promise you." LeValle said. "I just came to say good bye to her. I have things I need to do."
Aphrodite tried to sit up, but both Annabelle and Dr. Reyes stopped her.
"Goodbye." Annabelle gently kissed her lover's forehead, and squeezed her hand. A tear dripped from her face, to Aphrodite's. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Her normally cold, deadpan voice, cracked with sorrow.
"It is nothing I did not ask for, my love." The madam said softly. "I love you."
Then, LeValle began to sob. She did not sob into her lover, however. Instead, the powerful woman grabbed Aphrodite and began to sob into the taller woman's chest.
Andromeda, to be frank, had exactly no idea what to do in this situation, and looked extremely awkward. She, very hesitantly, patted Andromeda on the back, an expression half sympathetic, half scared out of her mind by the woman.
Roughly half an hours later, LeValle had her sword and jacket back on, all emotion fading beneath her cold facade. She and Andromeda were walking from the loft silently and extremely uncomfortably.
"We never speak of that again?" Doctor Reyes asked.
"Agreed."
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Jason Thornvaald
Cabin Boy
Second Best Pirate in the Solar System
I'm the only man surrounded by a fleet of beautiful female Captains . . . Karma anyone?
Posts: 33
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Post by Jason Thornvaald on Mar 20, 2010 9:20:26 GMT -5
Thorn glared somewhat moodily into his glass--now filled with the more-familiar, much cheaper rum that he was used to. He wasn't entirely sure how it had all come about, but he'd started the day hating the ground Anabelle LeValle walked on, and was ending it with an annoying sense of almost understanding. Which he didn't particularly enjoy all that much. The only solution to that annoyance was, of course, more alcohol.
Thorn started to tip his glass back, when sudden motion to his left caught his somewhat slurred attention. He blinked in surprise at the sight of Josetta Hart now occupying the stool at his side. Expression grim, the Pirate Admiral motioned impatiently, and the robot behind the counter doled out a full glass of what looked to be straight vodka. In seconds she had that one knocked back, slamming the empty one back on the counter to be refilled.
Thorn felt his brow raise. He started to ask her what the problem was, but thought better of it. Likely Jo wouldn't tell him the truth of he asked. And besides, he thought he might know the reason, anyhow. Despite how much she might care for them--or perhaps because of it--it couldn't have been pleasant watching her ex-husband marry her step-daughter. That just had awkward written all over it.
Thorn shook his head slightly, and drank his own shot with a sigh. That caught Jo's attention, and she turned to him a little, her one blue eye growing slightly hazy. "What're you doin' here, Scarsgard?" she questioned, her voice already faintly slurred. The larger pirate lifted his shoulder in a shrug.
"A pirate can't get drunk for no reason at all anymore?" he demanded flippantly. Jo nodded firmly to that, however, lifting her newly filled glass.
"Here-here," she pronounced a touch too loudly. Thorn lifted his glass as well with a faintly sloppy grin before both drained their drinks. Only to be refilled again a moment later.
Twenty minutes after that, both pirate powerhouses were fairly wasted--not an easy feat to accomplish for both of them. Jo leaned into Thorn's side as both of them cackled over a barely remembered job years ago where they had competed for the prize. The outcome actually hadn't been funny at all, at least not for Thorn, but at the moment it was perhaps the most hilarious thing he'd ever heard in his life.
"Ah, those were the days," Jo breathed, reaching for the bottle the robot had left on the counter and missing it by a good six inches. Thorn himself went to take a drink from his glass and then frowned down at it in confusion when it turned up empty.
"So, you wanna go screw?" the red-headed Admiral suddenly blurted, tone completely blasé, as if she were discussing trade routes. Normally, Thorn would have fallen out of his chair in shock--and immediate denial. Right now, however, he was far to trashed. He blinked down at the smaller female for a moment, his drink-fogged brain struggling to remember why that would be a bad idea.
She had red hair, after all. Just like . . . . Her eyes were the wrong color, but most people closed their eyes anyway.
The big man shrugged, just as nonchalant--and drunk. "Sure."
And so the both of them got off/fell off their stools and then somehow managed to stumble their way out of the bar.
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