S1: Ep1 - Birds of a Feather

Started by noseatbelts, April 28, 2020, 01:48:53 pm

Charity

June 26, 2020, 10:20:27 am #20 Last Edit: June 26, 2020, 10:29:58 am by Lomari
Charity took her time getting to the cargo bay, (because she wanted time to think, not because she didn't know where it was...), and by the time she sashayed into the room, she'd run into Pele and they'd been able to walk in together. It was like someone carrying two bouquets of flowers into a dingy depressing room. Bright colors, excellent fashion, and although the two women were very different in terms of particular style and personality, they both had an air of refinement and class about them that was hard to dull or hide.

"Captain!" Charity's steps faltered for a moment as the man shouted at her across a room like a savage. Her brows rose slightly and hands moved from her sides to clasp at the front of her waist, holding the pink monstrosity that was her hat carefully, not wanting to ruffle or crush the lace. "You and I should synergize about the, um, deliverables before we arrive. I have an agenda, sorta-" The aristocrat remained where she was, watching him attempt to have a conversation while there was a world of space between them. Her shock at his lack of manners eventually melted into a slow smile filled with amusement, although she continued to watch him from where she stood. "did you, I can't- I'll come to you." There you go.

"Hi. I have an address for Lady Sun. We're supposed to bring the goods there," he informed her, from a much better distance. She nodded and lifted a hand to push a stray (but intentional) dark curl away from her face, letting it frame her features instead. "Marvelous," she replied, offering him a little downward nod of her chin and another smile, "Thank you for your assistance with this," she added, her attention moving away from him to settle first on Jed, who she gave his own nod of greeting, and then onto Mister Cooper. As he worked, she tilted her head very slowly to look around Francis and watch, a curious, albeit impressed, look on her porcelain features.

"Thank you, Mister Cooper," she said, moving around Francis to offer Cooper her hand, palm faced downward. "I'm glad at least one of us knows how to use all of these fancy tools," Charity continued, laughing musically at that. "I think I can figure out the coffee machine, I'd imagine it's closer to what I'm familiar with." She slipped her hand around his elbow and stood beside him, grinning up at him with the full brightness of a sun. "I'm sure we have enough time before we land for some coffee and biscuits. Hopefully there are biscuits..."
Dialogue Color: AntiqueWhite

noseatbelts

Coffee was made and distributed. There were, in fact, biscuits, though they were a generic surplus variety, as opposed to the fine tea cookies Charity might have preferred. But refreshments were refreshments and complaining never got anyone anywhere. Time passed, preparations were completed, snacks munched, and it was time. Evie returned to the cockpit to get them safe and landed at Eavesdown, which went without a hitch. She was good at what she did and Eavesdown Port Authority saw so much traffic they were given the opposite of a hassle on their way down; apathy. Nobody cared who they were or why they were there.

Finally, they'd reached their destination. Now to drop off the goods, get out of there, return to Iscariot, and get paid. At least, one would hope that's how everything would happen. One could never be sure. Everyone who had, for whatever reason, made up their mind to go ashore had gathered in the cargo bay. The doors opened, the light of the mid-day sun came in, and the sites and sounds (and smells) of the Docks overwhelmed the senses. No sooner had anyone from the Odette escaped the steel grating of her deck and touched toe to terrain than a man in a hard-to-miss white changshan and pitch black rounded sunglasses approached. He bowed. "Xiàwǔ hǎo. I am Bao Lin and I will escort you to Lady Sun." He offered a tight smile and turned on a heel, revealing a dragon with bright red talons on the back of his jacket. He led them a short distance through the crowd to a waiting group of black suited guards with the same sigil displayed. If one were to take notice, the crowd was sure to keep its distance from them.

Jedikiah Rembo

As the crew, or at least the landing party shared Jedikiah took a respectful position near the Captain. He had decided that she would be most likely to indulge his attendance at whatever mischievous undertakings were about to occur.

He had listened quietly as the others spoke, especially Charity and Francis. They both offered the show of being in charge of the venture, but both seemed also, at least on the surface, that they respected that the other had equal authority. Very interesting they were, and the situation.

"Captain," he interjected with as much finesse as he could could and still be sincere. Yet his statement of 'captain' was one of definite deference. He was asking her because she was in charge. Not Francis. It was a manipulation of sorts, he knew that. Repressing the slightly guilty feeling of his wedging his way to a little selfish adventure felt... fun.

"If you could find any use for me, I would happy to contribute. Help with the delivery, I've handed a few hover mules or otherwise." His eyes made a half look toward Francis as if to perhaps maybe he should check with him, but then reverted back to Charity.

Jedikiah smiled with pleasure. "And to be perfectly honest. I would love to have a good purposeful walk about."

Yang Style Tai Chi and Shaolin Kung Fu
 - And Medical Practitioner


Charity

Charity stood with King at one side and Francis at the other, although she wasn't sure if Francis' positioning was to offer her support or to keep an eye on her. She figured the reasoning didn't matter, as long as he helped her get through this next portion of their job. Her hat had now been pinned delicately and perfectly atop her head, and a pink lace umbrella rested in the crook of her elbow, ready to be opened to block the harsh sun from assaulting her skin. As the doors opened, the aristocrat fought every urge to back up or cover her face with her hands. Instead, she simply stiffened, reached into a pocket in the side seam of her voluminous outer skirt, and retrieved a white linen handkerchief with her initials embroidered on its corner. She held it daintily at her nose and cleared her throat. "This is not what I imagined Persephone would smell like," she whispered to King, or Francis. Either/or. She'd only ever heard wonderful things about this planet, of it's glittering parties and famously wealthy families, so this was not what she expected...

As the man approached their group, she lowered the handkerchief and straightened her spine, chin lifting just slightly. "Xiàwǔ hǎo. I am Bao Lin and I will escort you to Lady Sun," he informed them, and Charity offered him a nod of her head and a warm smile in return. He had manners. She enjoyed that immensely.

"Captain," came a voice from near her. She turned slowly, brows raised in curiosity and expression soft. It was their new doctor, Jed, or perhaps more appropriately, Doctor Rembo. She smiled gently, nodding her chin as though to give him permission to continue or perhaps just to let him know that he had her attention. "If you could find any use for me, I would happy to contribute. Help with the delivery, I've handed a few hover mules or otherwise," he requested, and her smile only grew. What a kindly old man, already ready to assist the crew beyond his standard duties. Perhaps the dear Gwen had known what she was doing in leaving him with them in her place. "And to be perfectly honest. I would love to have a good purposeful walk about." She turned the rest of the way to face him, reaching out with her empty hand to settle it on his upper arm, "I would be honored to have you accompany us. I imagine we'll leave the heavy lifting to Mister Cooper, he does seem quite skilled with that machine of his, but I would be extraordinarily thankful for your wisdom and your company," she agreed, accepting him into the Away Team. It didn't escape her notice that he'd come to her and not Francis, and she didn't bother to hide the amusement on her face at that choice.

Of course, she looked back at King and Francis with raised, curious brows, before settling back into place between them and allowing their contact's emissary to lead them to the rest of his companions, the parasol snapping open and held up above her head in all its frilly splendor. She looked around as they walked, not necessarily noticing the distance the crowd had put between them and the business folk, but instead noting the conditions and the obvious poverty of this particular location. She frowned, once again bringing the handkerchief up to her lips, and holding it just below her nose. A bubble of nerves danced in her stomach, and she turned to look at her group, reassured by their presence and confident in their abilities. Mostly.
Dialogue Color: AntiqueWhite

Pele Kesher

If the pastel-colored frills and bows adorning Charity's ensemble made her resemble a pink dahlia, Pele's sleek, subtly embroidered indigo dress was evocative of an iris -- both stunning flowers, but in very different ways. The companion was content to stand back while the doors opened and Lady Sun's emissary introduced himself, but once it was time to follow him through the crowd, she slipped between Charity and Francis with an effortlessness only someone highly trained in the art of grace and poise could pull off. You could hardly tell she was wedging herself in a spot that wasn't intended for her.

Pele wasn't quite sure why she'd been asked to come along. Perhaps Charity, being a high society lady surrounded by riff raff, wanted a bird of a feather by her side. Perhaps her presence was simply meant to make their rag-tag team look more presentable. When Cecil told her to stand around and look pretty she despised it, but somehow the request didn't feel as aggravating coming from another woman of her similar social standing.

Still, Pele had initially considered rejecting the request, since prancing about in public probably wasn't the best idea right now, especially this close to the Core. Yet the horror of her encounter with Johnny was already fading from her memory, and her curiosity finally got the best of her. She still didn't believe this job was exactly what Charity thought it was, but she doubted it was anything seriously life-threatening either. And it wasn't like she was being completely careless: she'd wrapped a silk scarf around her head, which was enough to make her less immediately recognizable to bystanders while passing for a casual fashion statement instead of an obvious disguise.

Francis Church

Francis's eyebrows popped up in surprised delight as Bao Lin greeted them at the docks. "Great!" He was truly wowed at the service. In a hundred years he would never have expected an envoy from Lil Sebastian to be treated with such reverence and respect by an outside party. In fact, that was mostly the reason Sebastian had sought out someone like Charity Vornbach to do these sorts of meetings for him. So as to not arouse suspicion. Plus it was hard for him to actually get off station. So many things to do.

"This is real nice." He said as they formed up and made ready to march through the crowd. "Ooh! They should have gotten us one of those things, whataya call'em, where the muscley guys carry you in a thing. I guess it could be muscley women, too. Muscley people. Palanquins! That's what they're called." He rambled when he was nervous. Which was always. "I suppose that would defeat the purpose, though. Draw a lot of attention, you know. We wouldn't want that. Not that we have anything to hide, just you know, a lot of dangerous folks out there. Not that we're in danger. Not with these guys." Odd though, that Lady Sun would send so many guards. In fact, if Francis remembered correctly, there had been no mention of an escort. They had been given the address and were told to meet there. Odd. But hey, he had said it himself. There were a lot of not very nice men in the 'Verse. Women, too. Dangerous people. These guards were there for their own protection.

Probably.
Dialogue Color - MediumVioletRed

Cooper Brown

Cooper rode down the ramp of the Odette on the auto-loader with all the merchandise. The machine only had a spot for one person to stand and it wasn't the best mode of transportation if you aren't trying to move cargo a short distance. At its fastest it could approximate a mild jog. The nomad brought the auto-loader to a halt near Francis. He greeted him succinctly:

"Mate..."

Something was bugging him.

"Change of venue...?"

It was annoying he felt the parts of his mind that were still molded by his time as a warrior. Most members of the Golden Trail were pacifists, save the members of their secretive intelligence / paramilitary organization The Pashmerga. While he'd found his way back to the faith of his people, the soldier in him, the part of him that got him banished from his home and turned him into a raging alcoholic for years was always knocking about somewhere in the recesses of his mind.

The mechanic had his tools. Today, one of those tools was also a gun tucked into a discrete holster in the small of his back. His shirt hung over it just far enough that it wasn't immediately apparent. But Church being a pro had probably already clocked it. If the way he trailed off at the end of his sentence didn't communicate his unease, the fact he was actually packing a pistol right now probably sold it.

Jedikiah Rembo

Jedikiah bowed to the Captain. She was a jovial wonderful soul, though that she was not quite in her element wasn't a harm to her enthusiasm he thought. "Kind words Captain. I'll try to provide some use, even if it is limited to company."

Mr. Church again seemed to constantly find a new way to release his endless bundle of anxiety. There was a shrewdness there, or certainly a well practiced manner of continued reflection. Still, the were just the covers of the book, there were many chapters left to them.

Ms. Kosher never wavered, charm and control, pleasantness and reserve. A perfection of manners well trained and practiced. Different that the Captain who seemed more relaxed in a natural manner. And Mr. Cooper, a hardened direct professional. Do the job, get it done.

Walking along with his thin staff gently touching the ground. It was only three centimeters thick but sold hard oak. As he did not ever carry a weapon (the little pen knife hardly counted) it provided a nice benefit in the worst of situation. And it gave his mind and hands something to fidget with as there was often little to do on a walk with a crew on a mission. It was not new to him, being a bit of a fifth wheel.

The black suited escorts of the red talon dragons were interesting. They moved well enough. Jed put a subtle little hitch in his step to make sure everyone knew he was a harmless old man.

"How far Mr. Cooper?"
Yang Style Tai Chi and Shaolin Kung Fu
 - And Medical Practitioner


Charity

Charity smiled and nodded and twittered in amusement as Francis babbled, offering him her attention and politely going along with his suggestion for a palanquin and his humor about the situation as a whole. Her gaze roamed and passed over their surroundings, taking in the general social situation of those they passed, the handkerchief once again lifting to slowly rest just beneath her nose. It took everything in her power not to grimace at what she was seeing, instead keeping a mild mannered and graceful smile pressed against her lips at all times. She was just beginning to nod along with more word vomit coming from their Little Sebastian Connection when what he was saying gave her pause.

"I suppose that would defeat the purpose, though. Draw a lot of attention, you know. We wouldn't want that. Not that we have anything to hide..."

Her brows furrowed and she turned her head a little to look up at him, subconsciously stepping closer to King as they walked. She didn't actively think they had anything to hide, however the fact that this job had been given to them by Little Sebastian had given her some suspicions in the back of her mind. Now, however, his prattling on was only adding to those.

"...just you know, a lot of dangerous folks out there. Not that we're in danger. Not with these guys."

As he continued on, her brow quirked and her hand lowered from her face, the handkerchief still held between her fingers. "Of course," she answered slowly, carefully, her expression easing once more as she forced herself to keep her reactions to herself. When Cooper stopped near Francis, giving them some breathing room from the rest of the group, Charity sidled closer to Pele and wrapped her arms sweetly around the other woman's.

She leaned in, "My dear, can I trust you to speak frankly?" she asked, raising her brows a little and tilting her head. "Something about this situation is beginning...or perhaps has always...seemed mildly undesirable. Do you not agree?" she asked, her voice a hushed but polite tone. "I'd like to think we are receiving the royal welcome due to the benevolent nature of our goods, but I am beginning to think perhaps our Mister Francis and his Little Sebastian have not been entirely honest with us. I'm sure that has already occurred to you." She glanced back in Cooper and Francis' direction, her lower lip trapped prettily between her teeth. Then, she looked in Jed's direction. The debutante pressed the handkerchief against her lips, thinking on things. Knowing their job was a lie was one thing. What to do about it was another. Was there much they could do about it? And did she really know it was a lie? She had an inkling. A strong inkling.

She turned to look up at King, who had remained near her when she'd joined Pele, "What do you think?" she asked, valuing not only his opinion, but his experience.

King had been taking in the crowd, noticing how wide a berth the other people in the street were giving them and their contacts 'representative'. He replied in a low voice, ideally for only Charity and Pele to hear. "Something doesn't feel right." His eyes narrowed behind his sunglasses as he continued watching the crowds part to let them pass. "Could be something, could be nothing, but whoever our... new friend here works for? People know him. And they know to stay out of his way."

**King's portion written by Axe
Dialogue Color: AntiqueWhite

noseatbelts

July 09, 2020, 08:15:51 am #29 Last Edit: July 21, 2020, 08:06:51 am by noseatbelts
>>>>ENTER DARIUS BLACK FROM ODETTE ASIDE: A BEAUTIFUL DAY IN THE NEIGHBORHOOD

Yang Gao followed Darius closely through the crowd, his keen eyes fixed on the former sheriff's back.

ODETTE CREW:

As suspicions were shared around the group, the guards didn't seem to hear as they didn't respond, continuing their escort among the hustle bustle of Eavesdown. Then again, perhaps they did hear and just didn't care. They had the Odette crew surrounded and outnumbered. Good thing they were all on the same side, right?

Darius Black

Press-ganged.

This wasn't that.  But it was close enough so that the differences didn't matter.

Darius' gaze kept darting about, looking for some angle or opportunity he might exploit.  In his younger days, he might have made a run for it.  Bolted through the crowd, woven between people.  Trusted on speed to get him clear. 

But the days of sprinting away from trouble were behind him.  Farther behind him than Gao.  No, nowadays he had his wits, his mouth, and his gun. 

His mouth was expended, and he was feeling rather witless and bereft of ideas.  What, then?  Did Darius take a shot?  Turn and fire?  And hope that there was a bounty on this man, too, such that the authorities might not come down hard on him? 

Could he even yank that big iron clear from its holster before Gao put some steel in his throat?

It wasn't far from the rentable lockers, now. 

He'd get his things.  The few things he'd brought to this world when he'd landed.  His helmet chief among them.

And then, what?

He'd be a pirate?  A revolutionary?  A terrorist?

It was beginning to seem so.

But would he ever get a better chance to escape than right now?

The fingers of his right hand twitched. 

Take your shot, Darius.

Take your shot...

Jedikiah Rembo

As they walked along the Captain and those that seemed to be her confidants spoke among themselves. To Jedikiah there seemed a nervousness or perhaps wary. More so than when they had left the ship. Those around them being the change, and it had seemed to be a change they had not anticipated.

Francis Church did not seem worried, or clueless. It was a difficult distinction to make. As they continued Jedikiah began to let his eye wander at their escort. Where was there attention focused, counted them, watched them walk, who was the most dangerous, how were they armed? It was not a checklist or organized assessment. The soft hand martial way, the Push Hands method of Tai Chi sparing taught one to see without the process of cognitive thinking. It became ingrained in the subconscious, seeing what one would do next, how they would move, even before they themself knew it.

His little thin staff tapped a couple times harder on the street to see how those around paid attention. Too much? Or indifference?
Yang Style Tai Chi and Shaolin Kung Fu
 - And Medical Practitioner


Cooper Brown

July 20, 2020, 12:19:57 pm #32 Last Edit: July 20, 2020, 12:23:15 pm by Cooper Brown
"That is a good question, Jed."

The nomadic mechanic pitched his gaze back to Francis again. How long would this take? Where were they actually going? Is it a trap? Yes? Or definitely? Some subtlety in his expression was now lost. He started then visually assessing the escorts casually. He spotted one who at least looked less physically imposing than the others. He nodded in the man's direction, and casually brought his cargo-hauler over towards his new target. The Golden Trail expat was a former elite soldier, but an expert in interrogation, he was not. This was further into Francis' wheelhouse. He didn't like that he was in need of forcefully extracting the truth from someone but this was the mess he chose to get in.

"'Scuse me, mate..."

Mr Brown opened casually. Not indicating towards his weapon or any threat of violence yet. He left room for his partner in probably crime to chime in as the bad cop.

Francis Church


Now, Francis was a lot of things. Neurotic. Socially inept. Slightly naive about how the 'Verse might work outside of his bubble. But in the wheelings and dealings he'd been a part of at Lil Sebastian's side he was more than adept. He was also keen to sense danger and figure a way out of it. And he was sensing something alright. They were going the wrong direction, or so he kinda-sorta thought. He couldn't be sure with his limited knowledge. And meeting them at the docks against their instructions was odd, as well. That was two too many weird things for him. He was glad that at least Coop seemed to be picking up on it as well. He watched Charity and King whispering with Pele. They seemed in the know, as well. At least well enough to react should things go sideways. The outlying factor was the old man, Jed. Francis was no dummy. He knew a martial artist when he saw one, but the guy was still like 100 years old.

Cooper made his move and Francis was relieved to see him pick the part of the bad cop. Francis could certainly put the hurt on someone, but intimidation was harder, especially without injury or the threat thereof. He was never very good at that. Lil Sebastian had told him once that the less you said in a situation like that, the scarier you were. And that's where the problem was. Not talking.

Francis tapped his nose at Coop and moved in for the kill. He attempted to flank the man, but Francis couldn't get in through the crowd and the marchers so settled for continuing on the inside of the circle. "Hi!" He said with a cheerful grin. "I'm Francis. What's your name?" The guard said nothing. "Cool. Have you been working for Lady Sun a long time?" The only response was the sound of marching feet. "Great. Listen, where are we going? You can talk to me, man. We're friends, right?" Francis reached out with a tentative hand and awkwardly patted the guy on the shoulder. Finally a reaction, though not a positive one. The guard shot him a glare, the implication being that if Francis touched him again he would regret it.

Maybe the guard would regret it, Francis thought with a sneer and stepped away, going to Coop. "Ok, your turn."
Dialogue Color - MediumVioletRed

noseatbelts

Odette Crew

The procession stopped before either Francis or Cooper could take another swing at getting the guard to talk. It was likely fruitless anyhow. These guys seemed well-trained. Tough. Disciplined. Bao Lin turned face and, with a smile, said, "Is there a problem?" The guard whom Francis and Coop had attempted to question stepped forward and whispered something into Bao Lin's ear. The leader nodded with understanding. Bao Lin addressed the group. "Do not worry. You are safe. We will arrive at our destination soon. The smile disappeared. "Jǐnmì de duìwǔ. The guards closed ranks, turning to face the Odette crew.  While not overtly threatening, the message was clear. Comply. Or else...




Darius and Yang Gao

Yang's eyes filled with a hungry glee the further they walked out from the ship and Cheung Po. There was no one there to tell him no or where to go. He gripped the knife in his sash. He could do it, no one would know. They reached Darius' locker. "Quickly, now." Yang Gao's eyes darted away from the lockers to the ground, then back to Darius. He was nervous, sweaty. He wanted to do something but wasn't sure if he should or could.

Darius Black

Darius had been impressed by the discipline of these pirates. 

However, as he left the vicinity of their ship, he felt that he could see Yang's discipline melt away.  It was as though a statue had been encased in ice, and the hot sun was gradually revealing the form beneath.  But then... perhaps the same was true of Darius, as well.  He continued to debate with himself about taking his chance and ending the life of his escort.  Taking his chances with the law.

Perhaps his own true nature was being revealed.

He punched his code into the rent-a-locker, taking out a duffel bag and helmet.  He would never willingly go into space without his helmet.  Not after the accident.

Pressing the helmet to the back of his belt, there was a metallic clink as it adhered to the powerful mounting magnet.  Then Darius slung his duffel bag over his shoulder.  Turning back to Yang, his eyes coolly appraised the man. 

He shifted his stance almost imperceptibly as he took in the look of a killer who was poised like a primed trigger.  There was no longer a question about what would occur.  The only question was about who would start this dance.

Pele Kesher

Pele was doing a fine job keeping a cool head, but the tension spreading through their little entourage seemed contagious, so she wasn't very happy with Captain Charity suddenly draping a sisterly arm around her. She didn't protest, however, instead going along with the act of two gal pals trading some casual smalltalk on their quaint afternoon stroll through the crowded, piss-smelling docks.
 
"Something about this situation is beginning...or perhaps has always...seemed mildly undesirable. Do you not agree?"
 
"You don't say." Pele's demeanor was as sweet as Charity's embrace, but there were barbs submerged in the honeyed tone of her voice.

"I'd like to think we are receiving the royal welcome due to the benevolent nature of our goods, but I am beginning to think perhaps our Mister Francis and his Little Sebastian have not been entirely honest with us. I'm sure that has already occurred to you."

Well, at least the woman wasn't completely blind. "It certainly has. As a matter of fact, I seem to recall mentioning something about it during our very first conversation." Was she being civil or passive-aggressive? That would be up to the ear of the beholder to determine.

"Something doesn't feel right. Could be something, could be nothing, but whoever our... new friend here works for? People know him. And they know to stay out of his way."

If the muscle was chiming in with legitimate concerns, then it was all the more likely there actually was something to be concerned about. Pele had thought that seeing through the lies they'd been fed meant she was ahead of the game; she certainly wouldn't be caught off-guard when their business deal inevitably turned out to be illegal. Now, however, it was occurring to her that knowing you were about to get your hands dirty was only half the battle. Illegal business deals went south all the time, even between parties who were fully aware of what they were getting themselves into.

"I hope you're packing heat, Miss Charity," the woman whispered to the captain, although she doubted she was. Pele herself had strapped her pistol to her thigh like the femme fatales in the trashy comic books her parents had scolded her for reading as a child. She figured that was the safest place to hide a weapon; if they were supposed to be playing civilized folks conducting civilized business, she highly doubted these mooks had the nerve to go rummaging under her skirt. A least she hoped they didn't.

Charity

Charity's lips pursed together in a straight line as she listened to both of her current companions. She turned her head a little, watching Mister Cooper and Francis move closer together to have their own conversation with one of the escorts. Maybe sharing information about the job? Gossiping about their employers? She hoped that was the case, but doubted it entirely. When their guide stopped the group and turned to address them, her grip around Pele's arm tightened a little and the debutante glanced up at King.

"Do not worry. You are safe. We will arrive at our destination soon," Bao Lin informed them, then, his smile disappeared. "Jǐnmì de duìwǔ." The guards turned inward to face the crew of Odette and Charity frowned, chewing on her lower lip in thought. "I hope you're packing heat, Miss Charity," Pele whispered. "I most assuredly am not," she muttered in response, once more looking up at King, the man she'd hired to keep her safe, and who was more than likely being extra vigilant due to the incident back at the Wedding. An arm slipped free of Pele's and her hand idly touched the stitching beneath her gown's fabric. She was so distracted by that thought that she didn't even think to correct Pele and remind her that it was Captain Charity.

"I am afraid that in this type of situation, I am remarkably useless," she continued, looking at Pele with a frown of realization and self-discovery. Out in the 'Verse, existing as she was was rather unacceptable. She'd need to learn some form of self defense or else rely entirely upon her crew and her King to keep her safe and intact. Of course, this was all relying on if they were to get out of their current predicament or not. "Would you make sure no one shoots me?" she asked King with a smile.

Clearing her throat, she finally released Pele and moved to the head of her group, hands clasping demurely in front of her lap and shoulders rolling back as her spine straightened. She held the parasol over her head to shield her from the sun, although it did nothing to dim her warm smile as she regarded Bao Lin. "How very comforting, thank you," she crooned happily, her free hand settling over her heart.

"Is Lady Sun's estate this way? Surely we will not be meeting out in the dust and dirt, could you imagine?" she inquired, laughing softly at the very idea of having a meeting between upper class individuals in the slums. "I do wonder, though, perhaps it might be better for us to hire a vehicle. Although they are most fashionable, I will admit that these heels are quite hard to walk in, but I suppose you don't pay this price for practicality, wouldn't you agree?" she continued, her personality bubbly and vapid. "Here, let me call a car for us. It will be easier, I think," she told her guide, reaching her hand down to rummage around for her cortex device, the machine nestled into the body of a silver pocket watch. Now, in honesty, she had no car services to call, but she was hoping this might make their intentions, good or ill, all the more apparent and perhaps their more violence inclined crew members would be able to come up with the next part of this terrible plan. She just hoped Pele and Jed could stay out of the line of danger should that become necessary.
Dialogue Color: AntiqueWhite

Jedikiah Rembo

The Captain made an attempt to change the dynamic. It seemed unlikely that she would prevail. They were in the figurative pickle. A smile on Jed's face, 'in a pickle, where did that ever come from?' For now, he thought perhaps he might just be a harmless old man.

Appearing harmless is not an act. Jedikiah Rembo is harmless. Without a desire to do harm, it cannot be detected. ' hmm, really?'

His initial interest, selfish it was, to see how these events would play out had now come well past a curiosity of witnessing unwinding threads. It was now a reality of serious harm coming to his new friends.

One might argue that friends they were not, acquaintances perhaps. But a long life had taught him one thing, people fight for their tribe. In the black, the wandering souls that he had travelled among, there was one thing that was common. Your crew was who you worked beside, your crew is who you fight beside.

The Odette, the little scoop that had brought them out of the litter box of the betrayer station. And yet they were another imperfect eclectic assortment of spacer jetsam of the 'verse, specifically Station Iscariot.  The opposite attracting charges of Coulomb's Law that applied to the wanderers of the verse. Being with them is free will or an unstoppable attraction to these specific people? He came to them by chance, but he walks with them by choice. Does he know himself without admitting the truth, 'I am not harmless, and by being where I choose, it is my choice.'

Jedikiah Rembo does not believe in fate or destiny. But he does believe in being with the right people in the wrong time and place. What else is there?
Yang Style Tai Chi and Shaolin Kung Fu
 - And Medical Practitioner


noseatbelts

Odette Crew

Charity stepped forward with King lockstep at her side. Bao Lin was happy to receive them, the same empty smile as before. But as Charity reached into her bag, Bao Lin's arm shot out, quick as lightning, and grabbed her wrist. "No!" He said, perhaps a bit too stern. The hand on her arm was as steely as the word he spoke.

King, reacting on instinct, reached across, putting himself in between Charity and Bao Lin. King drew his knife and held it to Bao Lin's chest. "Don't." He warned, pulling the sunglasses from his face.

Several things happened next:

"You have made a dire mistake." He said, removing his own sunglasses. What he did not remove was his hand from Charity's arm. In fact, he gripped it tighter. King raised the knife to Bao Lin's throat. "You will be dead. Wan Kuok-koi and the Red Talon Tong will see to it."

King grunted. "Nah." Bao Lin finally let loose of Charity as he twisted his arm around to force King's blade from danger. A forward step to try to force King off balance was countered. King dropped the knife to his second hand and went for an upward stab into Bao Lin's stomach which was blocked by a knee, combined with a punch to King's chest, forcing him back into range of a kick to the head. King blocked, squared up, and it was on.

Francis finally noticed what was going on and, after doing some quick math in his head (Nine guys. Nine rounds, plus one. Extra clip in my- I forgot my extra clip. So that's ten minus nine. If I don't miss. One extra. That's not gonna be enough.) He didn't have a choice. Francis pulled his gun and raised it in Bao Lin and King's direction. His aim was immediately interrupted by a whack on the wrists by one of the guards holding a baton. His aim went low. Very low. Hitting the ground, sending up dirt and a retort bouncing off the buildings.

And then the crowd panicked.




Darius and Yang Gao

Yang Gao looked at Darius and sneered. He knew as well as Darius what was going to happen. "My Captain does not know you like I know you. You are a liar, Mr. Black. I will protect him from you." His blade, as long as his forearm and much sharper, withdrew from his sash and, a gunshot sounding as if to start them off, Yang Gao threw himself at Darius with a savage cry.




Pele, Coop, Charity, and Jed

With the most dangerous seeming member of their crew occupied and chaos erupted around them, the rest of the guards closed in on the shipment, brandishing various blades and clubs. A particularly bold member stepped forward and looked at Charity. "Run away and leave the cargo, or we will kill you like Bao Lin will kill your dog."

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