EVENT: SPACE PIRATES ▒ APRIL 20-21

[ataraxites]

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...

Comments

[swedge]

Lots of ways. Dip the weapons in it, shoot 'em up with it.

[ she's doing all she can to come off as being calm, but it's hard to do when she's as tense as she is. still, she tries. ]

Why, what's your version like?

[staytofight]

[He sighs, eyes rolling.]

Drastically different, in some respects. I suppose every vampire has it's abnormal strength and thirst for blood--but our entire make-up just seems out of alignment. For example!

[He gestures at the air with a hand, like someone telling a funny story while they're out dining, totally oblivious to pirate problems.]

My body isn't particularly flesh anymore. Something in it made me more like--a statue. If that makes any sense; it certainly didn't to me, when I first turned.

I don't bleed, I don't breathe, I don't eat. Or sleep.

It's pitiful, really.

[but still so chipper about it (◡‿◡✿)]

[swedge]

[ his explanation ends up leaving her more confused than where they started. that's not how this is supposed to work!!!! ]

So you're saying that when you turned into a vampire, you turned to stone.

[staytofight]

Like stone. I'm not... actually that sure what my skin's turned into. And strangely, I've never really cared much. But that's the gist of it — I don't bleed, I crack. So unloading a gun at me sends a nasty ricochet.

[He motions his hand, rolling his eyes at the bar room.] Innocent beer bottles slain, stools chipped, all that horrible imagery.

... Not that I drink, but. I've always liked the way a bar looks; perhaps it carried over from my pre-vampiric days. Soldiers tend to drink like that.

[swedge]

[ she gives him a fairly unimpressed look, arms now crossed over her chest. ]

Like stone, but not actually stone, though looks and feels and acts like stone. Right.

[ well, it's not like he tried to play it off like he was human. ]

Right. And how long ago was that?

[staytofight]

I don't make the rules! I promise, if I had a choice, it'd be normal flesh and bone.

[A beat. Not from hesitation, by no means, but by recollection; when that question pops up, he can't help but redirect for a moment to the things that had happened back in the day. He drifts into memory, on occasion, even if he prefers to focus elsewhere.]

The late 1700's.

[He's really actually enjoying this whole 'sharing' thing. He never really had the choice to before — with humans, anyway. For a number of reasons (like, talking to your food is typically a weird thing even he tries to avoid). His red-eyed stare settles back toward her.]

The tipping point of the American Revolution, anyway. I was a soldier, though I wouldn't count this old experience as a casualty of war.