Arrival | OTA

[major_egret_msfsod]

Jackal was always a little reluctant at accepting even mandatory leave. Still, she knew the reasons for it, and could defend the policy as needed, whether she liked it or not, and as an officer she had an obligation to serve as a good example. Although the FMS Viking remained at its post in the Belt, high-speed transports ferried personnel and special-order supplies, and it was aboard such an interplanetary shuttle she was traveling back to Mars. The visit home would be trying, as usual, but seeing her militia unit again would be good, as well as her mother.

Resting her eyes momentarily, she didn't notice the bright light. Other changes, however, she noticed: the tone of the nearby conversations, in particular, and although it was subtle, something was definitely not quite right about the feel of the shuttle. Scowling, she opened her eyes again--then scowled more so, looking around. She was definitely not in the shuttle. She was still in her red-tone camouflage fatigues, with a holstered device (most likely some kind of pistol, at a glance) at her side, and a duffel bag rested at her feet.

She stood abruptly, wary, but of all the people in the room--judging by its size and the totally open view of starscape, most likely aboard a large ship--none showed any signs of hostility. In fact, most barely even showed much interest in her presence. Whether they were aware of the situation or not, though, it was unacceptable. Resting a hand on her sidearm, but not drawing it, she kept her eyes peeled for any sign of someone who might be in charge. No explicit threats--yet--but she couldn't make any assumptions under such circumstances.

"What the hell's going on, here?"

Comments

[element_wizard]

"Aaaah... now that's an interesting question," Alec said from his perch on a nearby chair. "And not quite as philosophical as you might think."

He's a bit of a mishmash in looks - pretty elf looking boy who looks about as threatening as a damp budgie and wearing clothes that could possibly be from a half done cos-play what with the jeans and the bright blue long coat.

Btw, Kaylin is from the series I AUed Tiamaris from. Though she knows Tiamaris as an adult.... >.>

[kaylinneya]

Kaylin's permission post/trigger warning
The thread didn't have to be explicit. Kaylin had taken to making this part of her unofficial rounds, this lounge. Of course, her authority here was also unofficial. But it never hurt to have a few more trained Hawks around, even off duty.

Well, unless those trained Hawks were Teela and Tain and they were drunk, but that was a whole other mess.

And Kaylin, as part of her unofficial vigil, watched those who arrived, tried to size up who would be trouble.

And someone who rested a hand on a weapon... could well be trouble. Kaylin should know... hands on her daggers was her rest position. She slid to her feet and closed the difference between them, a palm resting lightly on the pommel of the dagger on each side.

She certainly was a noticeable person, despite being almost child-like in height and figure. Her messy black hair wads pulled back with a well chewed stick, and the creature that did the chewing - a small translucent thing that looked like a cat sized dragon, was resting atop her head, nibbling her hair in its sleep.

On one cheek she bore what looked like a tattoo of a flower, some might recognize it as deadly nightshade, others might not. She couldn't care less.

She wore, today, a thin chain mail shirt under a tabard with a hawk in flight and over a thin linen shirt. She wore leather pants - as in armor not fashion - and sturdy boots. Over the cuff of one long sleeve rode an expensive looking antique bracelet that tapped lightly against the pommel of her dagger - she wore one on either hip.

"Can I help you?" she asked, coolly and professionally. She looked young, early twenties at oldest, but she held herself like a veteran Hawk - a veteran cop - from her world.

[agathaheterodyne]

Kaylin's permission post/trigger warning

Aggie's eyes locked on the weapon as she moved closer with a heavily laden tray. There was a single plate of something somewhat nutritious, a slice of chocolate cake, and a glass of milk, as well as utensils and napkins and a straw that looked oddly like it was made of brass.

What made the tray so heavy, however, were the two small pocket-watch sized things with limbs that were sitting on the edge, looking around, a stack of gears almost as tall as the glass of milk, two screwdrivers, a wrench, and a bit of copper wiring.

Agatha herself was wearing a nice green tween dress with white under dress and under shirt, which would have been quite fetching if she wasn't spotted over with oil and grease, as as her hair...and her glasses. Her hands weren't exactly clean either.

At her neck was a large trilobite charm, worn as family crests are back in her home world. Her green eyes seemed over large behind her glasses as she stared at the side arm.

"What kind of death ray is that?" she asked.