master quinlan vos. (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
psychometry) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
ataraxionlogs2012-10-14 02:48 pm
psychometry) wrote in ataraxionlogs2012-10-14 02:48 pm
Entry tags:
in the shuttle bay | closed
CHARACTERS: Quinlan (psychometry) and Riddick (20mentholkools)
LOCATION: the shuttle bay
WARNINGS: uhhhh n/a
SUMMARY: One rather large and rugged fellow linefaces at another rather large and rugged fellow out of attempting to steal a shuttle.
NOTES: because in cross-canon cr terms this is pretty cool, okay
In the grand scheme of things waking up on an unknown starship set on a course of unknown co-ordinates was not the strangest thing to have ever happened to Quinlan Vos. He had certainly woken up in much stranger circumstances and in all fairness most of those had involved a great deal more people trying to kill him. The Tranquility was unusual only in its complete lack of violently murderous sentiment directed towards him - a change that Quinlan was only too reluctant to complain about.
That said, there were other niggling little disturbances that left him feeling far from relaxed in his new environment. The way that the ship felt beneath his hands was unsettlingly different - never had Quinlan been unable to get a psychometric reading from anything so obviously full of life and history. The vast, blank nothingness of the ship's memory was unlike nothing he had encountered before - usually there was at least something residing in the metal memory of a ship: the memory of stars and solar winds, long resounding vibrations of impact shots in battle or the ghostly imprints of past crewmembers. The realisation that the ship should still bear the imprints of its current passengers - still very much alive and kicking as Quinlan swiftly made his way from the passenger decks and in to the bowels of the ship – instead of this chilling nothingness was definitely a new and unpleasant experience.
Another little problem was the make-up of the ship itself. Completely unrecognisable for the most part, with no make or model number that Quinlan could pin on down to a planet registration. Surely then it was a civilian ship from beyond the Outer Rim territories, or so Quinlan reasoned - it was too large (and too clean) to be an unlicensed criminal ship. Not that that was any comfort. Quinlan would at least be on familiar grounds had he found himself on, say, a bounty-hunter ship. Dealing with new and unknown civilisations (no matter how rude their method of bringing on board passengers) called for a need to step carefully, and Quinlan hadn't exactly been very light of foot lately.
But less than an hour after reclaiming his clothes and his lightsaber from his new locker, Quinlan had stealthily set forth towards the shuttle bay. The weapon - seemingly an unassuming hilt, nothing more - remained at his belt and within reaching distance despite the fact that Quinlan knew that he didn’t want to use it. The shuttle bay itself, cavernous and dark, was a welcome sight if only for the one or two shuttles that actually seemed to be in working order. These would surely be his best chance of returning to the Republic. This ship, with its vaulted ceilings and peculiar passengers, was not part of his current mission. With a leap of triumph in his chest Quinlan paused only for a moment to pick a likely looking specimen before quickly scaling the side.
psychometry) and Riddick (20mentholkools)LOCATION: the shuttle bay
WARNINGS: uhhhh n/a
SUMMARY: One rather large and rugged fellow linefaces at another rather large and rugged fellow out of attempting to steal a shuttle.
NOTES: because in cross-canon cr terms this is pretty cool, okay
In the grand scheme of things waking up on an unknown starship set on a course of unknown co-ordinates was not the strangest thing to have ever happened to Quinlan Vos. He had certainly woken up in much stranger circumstances and in all fairness most of those had involved a great deal more people trying to kill him. The Tranquility was unusual only in its complete lack of violently murderous sentiment directed towards him - a change that Quinlan was only too reluctant to complain about.
That said, there were other niggling little disturbances that left him feeling far from relaxed in his new environment. The way that the ship felt beneath his hands was unsettlingly different - never had Quinlan been unable to get a psychometric reading from anything so obviously full of life and history. The vast, blank nothingness of the ship's memory was unlike nothing he had encountered before - usually there was at least something residing in the metal memory of a ship: the memory of stars and solar winds, long resounding vibrations of impact shots in battle or the ghostly imprints of past crewmembers. The realisation that the ship should still bear the imprints of its current passengers - still very much alive and kicking as Quinlan swiftly made his way from the passenger decks and in to the bowels of the ship – instead of this chilling nothingness was definitely a new and unpleasant experience.
Another little problem was the make-up of the ship itself. Completely unrecognisable for the most part, with no make or model number that Quinlan could pin on down to a planet registration. Surely then it was a civilian ship from beyond the Outer Rim territories, or so Quinlan reasoned - it was too large (and too clean) to be an unlicensed criminal ship. Not that that was any comfort. Quinlan would at least be on familiar grounds had he found himself on, say, a bounty-hunter ship. Dealing with new and unknown civilisations (no matter how rude their method of bringing on board passengers) called for a need to step carefully, and Quinlan hadn't exactly been very light of foot lately.
But less than an hour after reclaiming his clothes and his lightsaber from his new locker, Quinlan had stealthily set forth towards the shuttle bay. The weapon - seemingly an unassuming hilt, nothing more - remained at his belt and within reaching distance despite the fact that Quinlan knew that he didn’t want to use it. The shuttle bay itself, cavernous and dark, was a welcome sight if only for the one or two shuttles that actually seemed to be in working order. These would surely be his best chance of returning to the Republic. This ship, with its vaulted ceilings and peculiar passengers, was not part of his current mission. With a leap of triumph in his chest Quinlan paused only for a moment to pick a likely looking specimen before quickly scaling the side.