ataraxionlogs | EVENT: SPACE PIRATES ▒ APRIL 20-21

Entry tags:

EVENT: SPACE PIRATES ▒ APRIL 20-21

CHARACTERS: Ensemble production!
LOCATION: Anywhere.
WARNINGS: Pirates, violence, etc.
SUMMARY: Brief encounters, finding ransacked/damaged areas, making your way to the oxygen gardens.
NOTES: Open to all!

The ship has been invaded by pirates. They're noisy on the network, but you haven't seen any, not in person. Though if you go far enough things start to make themselves apparent. Kitchens have been ransacked. Pieces of the walls are torn out, media libraries overturned. Maybe you should get your valuables together and find somewhere safe to hole up...

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It was a pity that he wasn't armed, the back up could be nice and he'd soon learn how to use a weapon when he was faced with a threat. Bela's gaze dropped to his hands to check before they settled on his face again.

"Smart move to gather some food." She had to admire that. "But if a pirate comes crashing through your door and all you have to defend yourself with is a can of peaches then I don't think you'd last too long." A pause. "What about safety in numbers or whatever? It might be better to go there. However, what you decide to do is no concern of mine. It's your life after all."

Not that she should really let him get harmed, right?

"This thing?" Bela said, her lips twitching a little. "Oh, this weapon is my own from home. A girl can't be too careful on the streets of New York." A lie. Bela used the weapon for her protection when she was on a job, a career far removed from dealing with antiques, even if the items in question were priceless.

Q returned his hands to his pockets and looked down at the floor, a small smile curling on to his lips. "Tell me: would you be more likely to shoot at an unarmed civilian or a man with a gun? Or a group of people with guns for that matter? Personally, I'd rather not be mistaken as a threat. I'm fairly satisfied with my can of peaches." Q was a strategist, not a fighter. If given the opportunity, he would have built a makeshift fort by now. While others might have wanted to defend themselves with weapons or fight, he was more interested in avoiding conflict in the first place. He was the reptile in the corner who pretended to be a rock while the snakes and the coyotes fought each other.

"You hold your gun with more ease than a person who's never really used one before. I suppose you grew up near a shooting range? Maybe took part in the occasional hunt as a teen?" He was making excuses for her, though it was quite clear that he knew fully well that something more was going on, even if he couldn't quite place what it was. A person didn't lurk in shadows with such profiency unless they had a significant amount of practice. Q didn't intend to pry any further though. He didn't want to ask questions if he wasn't fully prepared for their answers.

Bela snorted with derision at his words. "They're pirates. Do you really believe that they wouldn't shoot an unarmed man? Their promise not to hurt anyone is an empty one; sooner or later, they'll strike at us." The funny thing was, she had more in common with the pirates than most people thought, meaning that Bela had an idea of how they operated. She wasn't going to allow them to do anything to her so sneaking around was her best bet. His strategy would be a good one but he might be better holing himself somewhere else instead of his room.

She couldn't tell him what to do of course.

Another keen observation from the accountant but it wasn't completely right. "You suppose wrong. On both accounts. I may have grown up in the English countryside but hunting never appealed to me nor my family." Her parents had no real interest in Bela-well, healthy interest anyway. Her mother ignored her and her father was a monster; no one knew what he did to Bela, save for Clint.

"When I moved to America a few years ago, I began to practice at a shooting range there and spent a lot of time honing my skills. Like I said before, it's for my protection." Should she reveal what she really did for a living?

Q's eyes narrowed ever so slightly for a second; he wasn't used to being so directly contradicted with such audacity. People tended not to argue with a person who could easily check through your computer records. But Q didn't have that skill - at least nobody thought he did - and he was forced to remind himself of just how unexceptional he must have seemed. It was oddly frustrating for the quartermaster, as if he had been brought back five years and was still a student on the receiving end of condescending glances and dismissive remarks. At least, that was what he thought it was like.

Despite his distaste of the whole affair, he kept his cover and considered how to respond. What would a normal person have done? "A compromise then," he replied, with a small nod. Yes, that would do. "I'll join the others in the Oxygen Gardens, though I won't be armed. I'll try my best to lurk in the shadows too. After all, you do seem exceptionally fond of the activity."

Clearly, he hadn't been around many people like Bela if he wasn't used to it. She wasn't the kind of person to hold back from expressing her opinion and if they didn't like it, she didn't give a damn. To his credit though, he wasn't the most annoying individual upon the ship and he could hold an intelligent conversation without boring her: all of that worked in his favour. Of course there was probably a lot that Bela didn't know about him and vice versa but it was up to the both of them if they were in the mood to share.

"Taking after my example then, huh?" She didn't know whether to be flattered or just plain amused by his decision. "It may very well be the thing that keeps you alive during all of this. Let the others handle it and keep out of sight as much as possible. I plan to do the same, unless I really need to be somewhere else."

"Well, you do it with such verve that it must be somewhat enjoyable," he teased, propping his door open with a waste paper basket so that he could still chat to her while he set about packing a bag. He had no idea how long the siege would be and felt the need to be as prepared as possible. If he was going to be stuck in one room, albeit a large one, he was at least going to be entertained. Out came his satchel and in it went Moby-Dick, his laptop, a blanket and a notepad and pens.

"Don't do anything I wouldn't," he said with a small smile. "There seem to be far too many self-proclaimed heroes on this ship if you ask me." In Q's eyes, most of the people on the ship, at least the ones who were vocal, had a propensity for excessive bravado and little to no training. A person could claim to be capable of handling a situation but with little evidence to back it up, the claim was more hollow and detrimental than useful. The other passengers frantically blaring out messages on a compromised network was clear proof of that, in Q's opinion.

"Mm, I can pretend that I'm a spy." Bela teased back in return as she watched what he was doing. She was interested to see what a person like him would gather together in a situation like this and honestly, she wasn't entirely surprised. "Looks like you're preparing to do a book review," she quipped, lips twitching with amusement. "At the very least it would keep you occupied." It's not how Bela would spend her time but to each their own.

She adjusted her bag on her shoulder, hoping that she didn't disturb the cat inside too much. "I can't guarantee anything." A grin. "You think so? I suppose there are, yeah. Blustering about and telling everyone to keep calm. They're probably giving more away to the pirates than keeping things from them each time they speak over the network. Very careless." Hence the reason why Bela hadn't replied to any of the announcements nor made any of her own; she wanted to be safe and keep others safe too.

At the spy comment, Q laughed a little more than he should have, a fact which he was all too aware of as soon as the sound escaped his lips. He busied himself with his things and hoped Bela hadn't noticed.

"I doubt I'd ever manage to muster up anything worth printing," Q replied. "There's method in my madness." He pushed his hand into the blanket, indicating it, the material compressing under the force of his fingertips. "Warmth," he explained before moving his hand to his book. "Mental stimulation." Next his notepad. "Record of mental stimulation." Then finally his laptop: "if I ever feel the urge to play tetris." After a bit of careful arranging and one zipping sound later, his bag was packed. He slung his satchel over his shoulder. "I'm guessing you chose more personally entertaining luggage? Either that or thirty .45 GAP cartridges." After all, Bela was rather fond of self-defence.

"And exactly. If they have something useful to say, they shouldn't be voicing it on the comms in the first place." He rolled his eyes. "Careless" was most definitely the right word.

She did notice. All Bela had to decide now was whether or not to bring it up in front of him. Which she doesn't for now.

"If you can consider my cat to be entertaining then yes. She's important to me and I want to keep her safe." Realising how that sounds, Bela adds quickly. "Look, you have your blanket, your book, notepad and laptop. They're important. She's the only thing I have from home here." A pause. "And tetris? How anyone can find that interesting is completely beyond me." This coming from the woman with the cat in her bag.

At least Bastet was content, possibly asleep. Bela knew that she would have to keep an eye out on her and not let her escape from the bag, only to run off and get lost in the ship.

"They just want to feel important I think. Do you know anyone like back home?"

Q was not critical of Bela's urge to save her cat. If anything it sounded sensible. Ultimately, animals were unable to defend themselves and on such a large ship, with the degree of disturbance which the pirates were causing, it was entirely possible that, if Bela had left her cat on its own, she would likely never see it again. He couldn't help but smile at her confession and her attempt to justify it. He adjusted his glasses on his nose, shifting them back into position even though they were never askew in the first place, a tell that he was significantly entertained and endeared.

"That sounds like a good idea," he said with a smile, eyeing her backpack. "Though surely your cat must hate being in a bag like that?" He supposed Bela was valuing safety over comfort. She was a woman after his own heart.

"I'm an accountant. For someone in my field, tetris is the equivalent of bungee jumping," he joshed. He didn't feel the need to say that it was in case any emergency tech support was needed. If it came to that point, he was fine with stating his skills, but he didn't think it all too good an idea to flaunt them to anyone. Besides, he'd started with a story. He might as well try sticking to it.

Q's eyes closed and his nose crinkled slightly as he nodded. "I think everyone knows that type of person all too well." Luckily most people in his business had learned to keep their heads down, not including certain double-0 agents. "How about you?"

At least he wasn't making fun of her for her actions. Bela didn't wish for any harm to befall something that was precious to her and while that sentiment didn't always apply to a living thing, her cat and a few people on board this damn vessel were the exception to that.

She watched him adjust his glasses, wondering why he did it because they were fine where they were; perhaps he was just trying to draw attention to it or he really was amused by what she told him.

"Once she wakes up, she'll soon let me know just how much she hates it." Despite her words, she was smiling because there was something funny about keeping her cat in her bag for safety reasons.

"I do know a few people like that, yeah." Self-righteous hunter types who thought they were saving the world from supernatural evil when the world was doomed to go to Hell anyway; Bela's views on hunters wasn't very high and there was one on board that knew how to press her buttons, even if she didn't outwardly show that he could.

Bela indicates ahead with her free hand. "Want an escort to the gardens?"

"How could I turn down a woman with a gun?" he said with a smirk, though in truth he appreciated it. Q didn't over estimate his physical abilities; he was more than willing to be accompanied by someone who was armed, able to use and, most importantly, willing to use their weapon if needed. He was far from a physical threat on his own and a bit of aid in that area wouldn't go amiss, particularly when wandering a ship filled with pirates.

He adjusted the satchel on his shoulder and left the room, carefully closing the door behind him so that it locked shut.

"I do hope no one takes my things," he said, smiling slightly, although he knew that anything of value (passwords, sensitive data and any particularly advanced equipment) were either with him or safely stored away in the ceiling, an old trick from the cold war era or traps made of strings and carefully positioned pieces of tin foil. Sometimes a bit of old school know-how was useful on occasion.

She just smiled at him for that comment and said nothing, safe in the knowledge that she was pretty handy with a gun and that she could keep cool under pressure. Well, mostly at least. What he didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

"If they're not valuable, they'll probably leave your possessions there. Unless they are scavengers; they'd take just about anything." Bela could only assume that he had the most important items on his person or carefully stored away in a hidden place for safe keeping. She knew that he wasn't an idiot.

"I don't want anything I've left in my room to go missing either. I couldn't carry it all." There were a few clothes and other small luxuries she had acquired each month in her locker. Bela wanted to keep them.

"I could take some of it, if you'd like?" Q offered instantly. He was far from a physical paragon of strength and athleticism, but he could still be helpful. His satchel had left his hands free and his was perfectly capable of holding some things for her.

"Maybe we should cross our fingers and hope that they're not scavengers," he said with a shrug and a smile, almost accepting his fate. Little could truly be done, especially when you ran away from your room and hid in the gardens. Despite his attempt at casual nonchalance, the lack of control nevertheless nagged at Q and made him a little on edge. He was trying his best to accept it but not knowing exactly what was going on with the ship left him feeling a little in the dark and as if he knew far less than he wanted to. The Tranquility had a habit of doing that to him.

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EVENT: SPACE PIRATES ▒ APRIL 20-21

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