EVENT: SPACE PIRATES ▒ OXYGEN GARDENS

[ataraxites]

CHARACTERS: Ensemble production!
LOCATION: Oxygen Gardens
WARNINGS: Camping.
SUMMARY: Hanging out in camp, discussing pirates, etc.
NOTES: Open to all!

Camping may not be an expected activity on a spaceship, but the gardens are large and have clear, grassy areas for people to gather together. You can help set up tents, inventory supplies or guard the perimeter — just keep an eye out for any strange faces trying to sneak in...

Comments

[antivanleather]

Zevran starts backward a half step, dropping into a defensive crouch, hand falling to his dagger the moment the elf wakes so readily.

"...a lesson how to sleep so observantly, for starters. Not even the best trained of my fellows can manage that."

[elvenking]

"It is how we sleep. I see you grasp one of its advantages." He's still snapping out of it. Since around the time of the discovery of the genetics lab, he's been forcing himself to have bad dreams he won't mind losing, so he is quite grumpy upon waking.

[antivanleather]

"I suppose another would be that it is quite unnerving to come across someone sleeping in such a manner. I thought you awake until you failed to sneer at my passing." Hostility is met with a bland, dry tone. He has yet to release his dagger. After all, the elf's got a sword.

[elvenking]

He glances down at that dagger and releases his sword as if remembering it's there at all. Then he frowns. And keeps frowning for a bit, deep in thought.

[antivanleather]

The sword released, Zevran's dagger is secreted away upon his person as is his habit. Slowly he rises back to his full height though he does continue to eye the elf with caution.

[elvenking]

After a moment, Thranduil glances at the elf's face without moving his head. "You use that well."

[antivanleather]

"I'm an assassin." He shrugs, as though commenting on the weather. "I ought to be, or I'd be a very poor example of my trade, yes?"

[elvenking]

...He's not sure if Zevran is pulling his leg, outright admitting something like that. But there's evidence before his own eyes that the elf is already competent with a weapon, so.

"I have a mission you may be interested in."

[antivanleather]

"Mission?" Now that has him curious. Cautiously curious, as he does not know this elf well and he has not had much cause to take up a knife in anything but practice since he arrived in this place.

But then again.

The potential to relieve some stress, to do violence, to be active. That is something he cannot pass up without due consideration. "What manner of mission?"

[elvenking]

"Jim Kirk and I have a plan to discover were the pirates are docked. It requires a small company to ambush them, that they would retreat back to their ship."

[antivanleather]

"How many are we permitted to kill?" It's an easy question, and as is his habit whilst discussing work a slim knife from...somewhere upon his person flicks out so he might spin and toy with it in his hand, flip it across his knuckles, etc. Tightly controlled movement that is, by all appearances, quite lazy.

[elvenking]

"None, if I have my way. But if you have no choice, you have no choice. Enough must remain alive to follow back to their ship."

[antivanleather]

"Ah. So we are only maiming them. Understood." Limitations are important to establish early on in a job, after all.