ataraxionlogs | EVENT: SPACE PIRATES ▒ APRIL 20-21

Shepard had made it a priority to walk the decks, making sure those who needed assistance received it. If it meant an escort to the gardens or medical, she had no hesitation in doing either. As a member of Security, seeing their ragtag crew to safety was her first priority. For the first time since she'd arrived, it felt as if she was exactly right where she need to be.

Keeping people safe, making sure they go where they needed to be -- forced, secure in her ability to do that -- this was what Shepard was good at doing. She checked her gun again and took a breath, focusing on her biotics. They felt like a slow fire warming, but seemed to be responsive for the moment.

She was good to go.

In the halls:

[He's not patrolling, not exactly. But part of him cannot help but want to, to keep an eye on things. The part that reminds him, on a daily, hourly, second basis that he is a Jedi and that means protecting people.

Although he isn't on security, it's clear that he's watchful, ready to spring into action. He just wishes Anakin were around.]

In the shuttle bay:

[Arfour is following him around as he checks on things, trying to organize some kind of defense. The shuttle bay has things likely to be stolen - tools, spare parts, things of that nature, even the things that aren't modern or new. He knows better than anyone what can be salvaged.]

[ Cat could care less about the warnings. She knows better than to cause trouble. She has nothing of value. She's moving because she does not want to stay in one place. She is full of nervous energy and has nothing to take it out on.

Besides, she figures that if anything were to happen, her wolf would be more than happy to intervene. Nymeria has not had a fresh kill since they woke here.

Hearing a faint whispering, she slows her steps. Her hand ghosts to the hilt of her sword. Any element of surprise she might have had disappears with Nymeria's growling so she calls: ] Who goes?

Bela's first thought was to hide away in her room with her belongings and her cat to make sure that none of the pirates would take what was rightfully hers. But then there was safety in numbers, right? Maybe she should make her way to the Oxygen Gardens to where everyone else was.

As she walked down the hallways-her gun on hand, her belongings in a bag along with her cat-Bela couldn't see any signs of them around or anyone else for that matter and that caused some concern. She was nowhere near the gardens nor anywhere that would be deemed safe so Bela's only option was to creep silently along the hallways, sticking close to the shadows so that no one would spot her.

[ There are about sixty seven ways to die at the hands of pirates.

Rapunzel counted.

And Rapunzel really doesn't want to die. There is mother and the lanterns and she needs to go back home and if she could live through this and tell mother that she faced spaceships and aliens and pirates (oh my!), mother is bound to let her go see the lights.

She just had to live through this and not die in one of the sixty seven ways she counted.

Naturally, the frying pan was with her.

She squeaked when she heard the voice, peeking out from the darkness before sighing her relief. ]

Cat and her wolf! I thought I recognized your voice.

What are you doing?

[ But she knows very well what Rapunzel was going. Being an idiot. Cat has to refrain from rolling her eyes at the frying pan. This girl needs something better, but she has a feeling Rapunzel would find a way to fall on anything sharp given her. ]

[Takeshi was actually at the gardens for a bit--with a bag full of his things, too! He couldn't leave his toys behind. Or something to eat, if his tummy rumbled. As much help as he has, he still makes sure to take care of himself in case everyone's busy. But then he realizes he left his favorite wooden sculpture of the fair warrior Reika and hurries back to the kitchen where he'd left it.

SO OFF HE RUNS.

REIKA PRINCESS I'M COMING FOR YOOOOOOU]

[After very effectively learning that no place is safe, Marty's decided he really wants some more of that shit he and Foxy Freckles made--not to say he's high or had even smoked at all on such a day as today, but perhaps--just perhaps--he's forever inflicted from his cannabis use with an endless case of the munchies. Or so his theory goes. Like he knows the inner machinations of his body.

Maybe there's a little excess confidence for someone who just got hit in the face with a frying pan, but he can be found either in or wandering out from one of the kitchens with a big-ass tub of... something. Something that smells fab, is really cold, and has effectively stained his tongue and lips an obvious blue shade.

Does it detract from the band-aid over his red-ass nose, does it.]

As soon as it became abundantly clear that these pirates weren't just looking for food and medicine, rather, taking all of that and ripping things out of the walls, Wheatley knew that the one thing he wasn't going to let them do was get at the imprint chair. There was, of course, a certain element of risk in wandering the halls when the majority of the ship's populace was locked down in the Oxygen Gardens, but he wasn't about to leave the last shot at returning to his body out where anyone could find it if they looked hard enough.

Besides, he liked owning things, and like hell was he going to let anyone (pirate or no) get their hands on his hard-won belongings. He had a plan, too, one that involved a portal on the wall of his room, with the other end in the lounge on the upper floors where he and Topher had hidden the chair. Closing off one end meant that he'd effectively been able to lock his room from the inside while still being able to function outside of it, making sure that the chair and other such important things were safely stowed away.

It did, unfortunately, mean being out and about with the portal device and a bucket of what appeared to be white paint (which was a problem in itself--a limited amount of conversion gel meant very strategic portal placement, and longer walks with shady brain things than he would have liked). Though the zero-point energy field manipulator meant that it was nearly effortless to transport his very important objects (among them what appeared to be some kind of metal basketball), but when push came to shove, it was difficult to be sneaky when you were hauling a stripped-down armchair.

Edited 2013-04-21 01:15 (UTC)

Not long after Murphy abandons the network in hopes of salvaging what he can from their interlopers, he's making his way to the kitchens. The halls, long and winding, have a way of getting most people lost. But he knows them fairly well now. At least, he thinks he does. The bird markers help. Pirates wouldn't know any better, would they?

It's a big ship. Lots of supplies. Trade doesn't even seem like a very bad idea... except that these people aren't looking to trade, and they aren't interested in people getting in their way.

So Murphy's been doing that. Mostly. He doesn't see any sign of them, anyway.

Just when he thinks that maybe they packed up and left -- or maybe they got lost in the labyrinthine mess of the ship -- Murphy stops. Feet planted in the doorway of the sixth deck kitchen. His kitchen. Well, everyone's kitchen, but this was where Murphy would mostly go but then...

"WHAT THE FUCK."

The entire place -- his sanctuary -- is a mess.

Any hope that one might have had for mercy is gone completely after Murphy rummages through one of the designated cabinets to find...

"Christ... my whiskey, too?" His jaw clenched. Fucking looters.

AM was actually quite curious about these pirates. He had hardly caught any glances of them; most of what he knew was from the network. As long as he was safe, as long as his things were safe, then AM didn't particularly care. So while he made sure he had his two weapons - a knife and a cattle prod - on hand, as well as securing anything he held valuable, then he was going to try and observe these pirates.

While he would most likely be in the science labs, he could be in other places, such as the kitchens or the hallways.

But as it is, he's most likely sitting behind a wall of some sort - a door, a table, etc. - simply watching and waiting. Sure, he might try to talk to the pirates, find out their motives, attempt to "befriend" them, or else he might find joy in killing one. After all, he wouldn't get in trouble for "self defense," right?

Ryan had absolutely nothing to hide.

From what he knew about pirates (watching Pirates of the Caribbean and Treasure Planet, and reading a tiny bit of Moby Dick from school), he knew that pirates wouldn't care about you unless you had something valuable. And what did Ryan have? A bong, some cigarettes, a tennis ball, and a shirt. The most valuable thing out of that was the tennis ball, which he kept in his pocket (and he didn't give two shits about how awkward it looked). Nope, Ryan doesn't have anything really valuable on him.

That being said, he still doesn't want to see any pirates, though.

He kept himself away from the places that hadn't been completely trashed yet; instead, he gravitated towards the opposite. Whatever valuable things that had been there were already gone, which meant that the rooms there were safe. And whatever place was safe, Ryan would gladly stay there.

He doesn't even see AM hiding there. Nope.

Even though Ryan literally has nothing to his name (except for his tennis ball. that is a very important thing), he's making his way through the ship as quietly as he can. Because even though he thinks that these pirates won't really give a shit about a slobbery tennis ball, he still doesn't want to meet them. Because they're pirates, and they're scary. He'd rather just hide away by himself where he knows he can be safe.

What makes hiding even easier is the fact that after the pirates turned all the rooms into shit, they never bothered picking up. Which could be a good thing or bad thing.

Ryan was making his way through one of the rooms around when something snagged his foot. He hit the ground on his knees with a startled kind of cry, and the tennis ball bounced right away from him. And you bet he's going to go right after it...

[ Even though she's huddled with Equius in her room, they haven't locked the door. Partly because she wants to leave a safe space in case someone needs to enter and hide out with her. Mostly because they could give so few fucks about these pirates.

Oh sure, Nep isn't happy that they've decided to come ransack the ship, and she certainly hopes all of her friends stay safe, but let's be real here: piracy happens. (Well, it did on Alternia, anyway.) If she got up in arms every time someone attempted to take over/steal her shit/murder her, she'd have died of anxiety by now. Seriously this is like everyday life to her.

No, she thinks, it's much easier to defend a den then take the battle out in the open.

(Besides, Equius had told her to hide back in their own universe. She might be more inclined to disobey that order if he wasn't here, if she couldn't hole herself up with him.)

She curls up on her hoarded pile of Davesprite feathers and paints. Nothing she owns is particularly worth stealing. The only things of value are her and Equius' lives, really, and neither of those are particularly easy to take. ~~Unless you're Gamzee.~~

(And if any pirates decide they could try to take them, well... she could always use more red paint.) ]

Iron Man or no Iron Man, this was Tony's job. There was no way that he'd sit in the Oxygen Gardens and stay out of the way. No, he had to play the big damn hero and make sure everyone was safe. First thing he'd done was go to his room and grab some supplies and then he was off, scouring the hallways for any sign of their intruders. His wasps were silent in the air, despite their mechanical status and the only thing that would give him away was Tony's lack of training in stealth. Even then he was doing his utmost to keep quiet.

He really should have been doing this in safety while he sent commands technopathically, but he always did like to get involved personally.

Q understood the human urge to congregate when in danger. It made sense to some degree and even Q himself, stranded by the pirates' apparent domination of the tech on the ship, was particularly tempted. When lost, security and stability was sought through other people, grasping desperately on to some form of familiarity or the hope that someone else would know what they were doing. It was natural but Q thought he knew better. A large group of people meant a large target for attacks and he intended to be as far away from it as possible. Thus, instead of grasping on to social interaction and strength in numbers for safety, his urge for security was quelled by his fingers placed firmly on the turning lock of his door and a beaten up paperback of Moby-Dick. There he stayed for several hours until, after hearing no sounds of disturbance whatsoever, he decided to venture out and grab himself some lunch and stock up on supplies.

It was then that he saw Bela and, most importantly, her gun. His eyes widened a little. There were few ways that she could try to pass that off as an antique. He placed his hands in his pockets, watching her skulk in the shadows in a way to which he was surprisingly accustomed, although he had never done it himself, and rocked on his toes slightly like a schoolboy waiting for his turn in the lunch queue.

"I suppose you're heading to the Oxygen Gardens?" he asked.

[If there's an applicable saying for the situation, it would be: pirates happen. Unless you come from a time where pirates are not a thing, in which case they do not. However, for trolls, pirates are just another amongst the list of violent occurrences they've become desensitized to.

Equius is not worried, though he isn't thrilled either. It's easier to stay in Nepeta's (their) room, belongings with them and wait out the situation. Should they be engaged he will swiftly and STRONGLY take care of the problem. Trapped on this vessel with humans, this dangerous circumstance makes him feel closer to home than anything else has in a long time.]

Do you expect any guests?

Despite the pirate's assurances that they wouldn't hurt anyone, Bela was fairly certain that they wouldn't hold up to it, especially when a lot of people on board would be reluctant to back down so easily. Bela would only get into the fray if she was confronted by one of the pirates and even if it did happen, she would try to negotiate her way out of trouble-not that she had much to offer.

She stopped when she heard footsteps from a distance, grip tightening on her pistol as she raised it in front of her, preparing to use it if it was necessary. Bela refrained from calling out because she didn't want to draw attention to herself; instead, she listened carefully and went towards the footsteps, being as quiet and swift as possible.

Luckily for him, she spotted him before he spoke to her. Otherwise, he probably would have a bullet to the shoulder and that wouldn't go down very well. Bela came out of the shadows, green eyes watching him curiously as she tightened her grip on her bag, gun held loosely by her side.

"Haven't decided yet." A curt reply but edged with concern. "I just know that being in my room the whole time wasn't exactly productive. I didn't want to make a network address either because I know our 'guest's can hack the system. Even if the message is encrypted." She was worried about Clint, even if he could easily take care of himself in a situation like this.

She looked him over. "Two questions, Charlie. Are you armed and where are you headed?" An accountant would have no need for a gun and she was certain that he hadn't been in a situation like this before in his lifetime.

"I'm not armed, no," he replied, stressing his first syllable so that his tone of voice clearly stated but you are. He pulled his hands out of his pockets and flipped them over a couple of times by his side so that she could see. Although Q had handled more guns than he could count, he had never been the type to pull the trigger. That was more left to people who were well trained in it, he thought, rather than some chap who preferred to spend most of his time sitting behind a desk. Although a gun might have been warranted in this situation, he would never be of much use with one.

"I thought I'd stock up on some food before I go back into lockdown." While Bela seemed to care about being productive and helpful or not, that was far from Q's concern. He far preferred to be locked up tight and safe. "My thought is that if everyone's heading to the same place, the pirates might start to wonder what all the fuss is about over there." With the ship being so quiet, though, that wasn't really his focus. There were far more interesting things at hand. Well, in Bela's hand.

He nodded towards the gun. "Did the ship give you that?" he asked, clearly interested and amused. For someone currently under the ominous threat of an attack from pirates, he was surprisingly smug.

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.

Nothing!

[ immediately. Nothing at all. It's not like she's scared and lost and going to die. No, nope. ]

---- I'm trying to find the gardens. Do you maybe know where they are?

[ The valuables that Quinlan owns are small and significant only to himself - a stone, a tiny broken droid the size of a credit chip, a shard of red crystal. He leaves them behind without a thought, discarded in a compartment of his cabin and left without any fear of them being thought important to anyone. Lightly burdened with only his lightsaber and comms device Quinlan draws the depths of the Force around him like a cloak and moves along the decks between his cabin and the shuttle bay with the speed and silence of a shadow - disturbing nothing, avoided by most.

By the time he reaches the shuttle bay further news of the pirate attack has been broken, but not quite enough to lift the hazy fog of war from the minds of the passengers. Nothing is for certain about their attackers save a few names and faces - but, even with those scant whispers of information, confusion still reigns. After long months of preferring solitude in the oxygen gardens to mixing with the crew Quinlan himself doubts he could truly tell pirate from passenger in these conditions - and even the Force, oddly clouded with shadows and darkness, does not seem to help.

Troubled and suspicious, Quinlan picks his way through patches of shadow on the edges of the shuttle bay, lightsaber hilt in hand but not ignited. Not yet, at least. ]

I've been there once. Are you trying to hide from the pirates?

Being that he keeps all his valuables on him, and that the rakkale is now long gone, Mordecai sees no reason to follow the lockdown recommendations. Being holed up in the gardens with security pretending to be competent just isn't his idea of a good time. Until he needs to check on the chickens, he'd much rather stalk the halls in search of these supposed pirates.

It's strange to him that he doesn't know if shooting first is the answer, this time. These pirates were the best source of information on their situation that they'd had since he'd arrived. If he could capture one, great. If they shot first though, he couldn't guarantee they'd survive long enough to answer much at all.

EVENT: SPACE PIRATES ▒ APRIL 20-21

coммander ѕarĸa ѕнepard ▒ open

Obi-Wan Kenobi | Open

ｃｌｏｓｅｄ | rapunzel (unless you're a pirate :x)

Bela Talbot | Open (action or prose fine)

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takeshi | ota

Marty Mikalski | ota

a very shady wheatley errand | ota

Murphy Pendleton | Open

AM | OTA

ryan newman | wilfred

hehehe

Nepeta's Room || Equius + OTA

no subject

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[ closed ] quin + starbuck!

no subject

Mordecai | open