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Futuristic π•‹π•™π•– π•€π•Ÿπ•—π•šπ•Ÿπ•šπ•₯𝕖 π”½π•£π• π•Ÿπ•₯π•šπ•–π•£ β˜… ✩ Sci Fi / Space Opera (Full!)

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Ghoulina

That one onion that is rooting for you
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Respectfully, please read the rules below before we begin:

Rules:
  1. If you are not familiar with this rpg, please visit the interest check thread linked below!
  2. In regards to posting: At least two paragraphs per post please, and try to post at least two to three times a week. One paragraph is fine if you are interacting with another character quickly, but please do not make it consistent. Please reread your posts to correct grammar and typos. If you need to take a break for any reason, please let me know, it's absolutely fine!
  3. World building in this RPG is very flexible. If you want to invent an alien race, do it. You want to play a robot that shoots spaghetti at people? Have at it. Do you think the current location the crew is exploring could use a massive acid spewing geyser? Why the heck not? As long as you don't godmod or completely derail the flow, we're all good.
  4. Please review the lore thread before posting for the first time.
  5. Treat each other with kindness and respect, both on RPnation and on Discord. If you are having issues that you are uncomfortable addressing yourself, or something has gotten out of hand, please let me know via private message.
  6. Please feel free to use whatever kind of coding suits you, but if someone requests for a mobile friendly version of your post please provide it in a spoiler.

Discord link below:
β˜… ✩ Discord ✩ β˜…
Interest Check below:
β˜… ✩ Interest Check ✩ β˜…
 
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Prologue: The Crew of the Sunshine 5

We begin our tale at the mega port city, Kronus. It is a massive spacecraft port that floats above the wealthy planet Aria, and it is where a handful of folk from all around the universe have gathered to embark on new adventures aboard the Sunshine 5, a Waxion Industries Incorporated vessel promised to shine brighter than any star. After applying for various positions onboard the ship, these selected few made the cut and have been sent coordinates and instructions to ensure they arrive on time with everything they need. Now they move through Kronus' busy streets and docks, carrying their belongs in hand and on hover racks as they search for Dock 23A. Kronus is a fast moving but friendly place filled with food stalls, stores, and squished together housing for it's growing population.

The port orbits with the planet, and at this time is enjoying a bright and warming sun as port staff work on ships and merchants peddle their wares to passersby. What awaits our stalwart heroes as they gather for the first time? Only time will tell.


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✩ Interaction: Open
✬ Mention:
β˜… Mood: Tired, grumpy, and as always impatient.

Two days ago...

Dock 23A, huh? Nova held a transparent tablet that lit up with location details of her new ship, and scant information about the crew that would be coming onboard with her. Port Kronus was a behemoth all it's own, a huge port and cargo station floating above the planet Aria, which was rich with resources and therefore very wealthy. It had over a hundred bays to take in ships of all sizes and variety, as well as it's own miniature city attached that sprouted up like a parasite to provide housing and infrastructure for the immense staff that kept port running like a well oiled machine. It clearly wasn't the sort of place that some big wig dignitary would set foot to holiday, with it's pop up food stands and ramshackle trading posts strewn just about everywhere. For Nova though, it was heavenly. A great spot to park your ride, sell any pilfered goods, pop off for a night of boozing and good times, and then head right out to work the next day.

This week was going to be special because she had a new crew and a new ship, which may have made a greenhorn nervous but didn't phase the veteran star traveler at all. What really concerned her was whatever rust bucket Waxion Industries Incorporated was sticking her with, they were infamous for embellishing the truth and refurbishing everything possible. As far as a new crew went, she was largely cavalier about it as she had little reservation towards shooting folk out of the airlock and reporting them as "missing in action" or that they had been "eaten by giant space roaches". She marched towards dock 23A, weaving through the seemingly endless stream of port staff and weary ship rats fresh off their boats and hungry for a square meal that wasn't from a packet. She could also see plenty of crews preparing to cast off, pulling hover racks full of luggage, food supplies and the like to their freshly prepped vessels.

That's when she saw it. The great yellow monstrosity, a large rectangular vessel that looked like it was smeared with mustard and vandalized by a mad man that had escaped space prison. Her eyes bulged and her mouth dropped- that couldn't be it. She looked down at her tablet again- the name Sunshine 5 blinked up at her, and underneath were long passages of text detailing the specs of the spacecraft. She looked back at the ship, then noticed the very obvious creature sent by W.I.I. waving it's strange arm around greeting her. Most of the upper crust admin for W.I.I. were these odd humanoid creatures that wore black suits, had strange mask-like faces with orange markings, and could be mistaken as glitchy holograms as they trailed black cube-like pixels that floated into nothingness as they moved. "Hello and good day, Captain Nova Udonta! Welcome to your fabulous new vessel, the esteemed Sunshine 5!" it cried as she neared reluctantly. Fabulous? ESTEEMED?

"Is this... is this actually the ship? Like for real? Where even- look, a cannon just fell off!" she pointed as one of the rusty side cannons broke off and dropped down to who knows where below, probably damaging another vessel. An awkward pause followed.

"Ohhh Nova, you silly! Of course this is your new ship! And nevermind that, there are at least ten more mostly nonfunctional cannons onboard for you to enjoy!"

"Of course there are." she grumbled, collapsing her tablet and shoving it into her pocket.

"The Sunshine 5 boasts many delightful upgrades in comparison to your last vessel! It is far larger, and you have a fully integrated A.I. to help you fly the ship and monitor nearly all internal systems!"

"Oh good, wonderful. I love being watched constantly without consent! Can I turn it off?"

"Absolutely not, hahaha!"

Fantastic.


Present day - crew meetup.



Captain Nova Udonta of the "esteemed" Sunshine 5 sat outside the ship on a crate smoking a cigar lazily. This was ordinarily not allowed, but she had spooked off five port workers in the past two days and was now left alone. Her things were inside and unpacked, and she had trudged through the interior to take a look at what they would have to work with. At least W.I.I. had most of the common areas and work areas cleaned, and there was a nice new medbay- which was incredibly suspicious. The A.I. was named Rem, and though the rep had explained that it can't be turned off she nevertheless had tried multiple times and left a string of tangled bunches of wires around the I.T. room and in several other places. It was an odd vessel besides it's strange color, markings, and very apparent age. The inside didn't seem to match the actual overall size. It seemed smaller in comparison, something she also found very suspicious.

Nova had found a few passageways that were blocked as well as a very sketchy locking hatch in the mechanical garage that wouldn't budge, no matter what forms of violence she tried. Not only this, but she was sure she could hear noises in the night when she returned from gambling and drinking, noises that didn't sound human, but Rem assured were nothing at all. There wasn't a shiphand alive that didn't have at least one tale to tell of haunted spacecraft, and Nova had many to share. She was a superstitious woman, and the noises had kept her awake even in her drunken state- and that was bad. She was normally an ornery, short fused grump but with little to no sleep she was even worse. Now she wearily sat outside, watching folk pass by and keeping an eye on the time. Soon her new crew would arrive, and she was anxious to see what the universe had decided to throw at her this time.


✫ OOC: Waxion admin appearance
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feel free to post!

 
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Abelgard MΓΌller:

The Stalwart (nervous) First mate

Log 1.... begin:


Ah, the galaxy, such a strange... yet, familiar thing to the many sentient and animalistic creatures that inhabit its solar systems and many stars floating above the sea of void itself, with no seemingly end to it other than the many civilizations that has come and gone throughout the ages. It always has its fair share of mysteries that never seem to have a clear answer to, such as the beginning of life... how were the planet and stars themselves born, how the universe came to be, and was there another one before this one? Of course, there always lied a answer to these questions.... but humanity has never lived long enough or existed way back in the past to know about them... the clear answers that are possible if someone were to witness these events in person... but no one has ever gotten the chance to do so. Yet... there was a question so far, so advance... that not even the most smartest of the universe can ever hope to solve, and right now, it is currently resting within the mind of a once Police Sergeant... now walking amongst the crowd in Port Kronus, standing tall and firm, showing signs of experience and discipline hardwired into his mind. But for now... let’s take a look around the scene before we head on inside the mind of this β€˜particular’ individual.

The tapping of his foot with each step he took were in a rhythm, no clear indication of there being a difference in his movement amongst the crowd, his left arm grasping onto a suitcase that was left hanging there, and carrying nothing else. Inside, it held the bare necessities for living on a ship.... a couple of clothes in case he needed to change out of his current outfit as well as both his extendable baton and stun gun lying in wait, brought over by his previous job. Basic as a suitcase can be.. and the man in question was looking for a certain hangar of where he and his crew mates would arrive and prepare to embark into the cosmos themselves, ready to complete any mission heading their way. But while the man was adjusting his collar and straightening his hat while walking... he thought to himself about the question spoken of earlier... a question so confusing and difficult, that not even the greatest minds know how to solve it... and that question was revealed to be.

β€˜Oh god.... oh no.... I hope I’m not late... it wouldn’t sit well with others to see their First Mate, the second in command be far later than everyone else. They would probably think of me as inefficient with my time... and clearly not worthy of my job that held high expectations for those I will be working with. What if they figured out that I’m thinking about this... what if they could read my mind and tell the others the sorry excuse I am for a crew mate... a man who couldn’t even do his job properly back on his home planet and having to leave as of a result. What if-β€œ

While back on the outside of his mind, the man continued walking forth with a neutral gaze on his face, seemingly unfazed of anything right now. Luckily... at least for now, no one knew of his true nature... he was just yet another body in the crowd amongst the many other strangers here, just a normal old human in a galaxy full of amazing and beautiful things.... unlike him. Checking his electronic wrist watch for the time, and to see the time he has left until he was considered β€˜late’, it seems that he might have enough time... but the unexpected can always happen... maybe he will accidentally get knocked out by something and had to be dragged to a hospital, missing his flight entirely, or maybe something would get in his path and make him late.. the captain then making a excuse out of him while the rest of the crew laughed at him for his incompetence. But thankfully, that wasn’t the case, as a few minutes later, he finally arrived to the hangar of where the captain and ship in question was supposed to be lying in wait... and right there, was quite possibly the captain. A dark skinned human sitting on top of a crate, dragging in some smoke into her mouth from a cigar... acting completely... β€˜undisciplined’ to most other’s eyes. But to Abel... the way she held her stance in absolute confidence, waiting outside to meet her crew like any other ordinary individual, like a mother awaiting the return of their child from a school field trip.... something Abel wished to achieve in the future but never could due to his mindset and experience, while this woman can pull it off without a thought. He could only think of a few words in his mind....

β€˜Wow..... so cool.... I have no other words to express my thought of the captain... the way she is acting... the posture, it’s like she understand the common folk itself.... that’s something I want to become some day.’

The man had said while staring a bit in her direction, then looking at the space shuttle behind her... before making his way towards the captain, his arrival evident by the tapping of his feet. Once reaching her location, the man placed down his suitcase, before clapping his two legs together, stomping down his right foot and giving out a salute, before saying in a serious and neutral tone.

β€œFirst Mate Abelgard MΓΌller... reporting for duty captain!”

He said in his shout, maintaining his position as he thought to himself.

β€˜Please don’t say anything bad.... please don’t say anything bad!’

As he awaited a response from the woman.... hoping to the very lord himself above that he performed his actions perfectly. After all, it wouldn’t sit well if he made a mistake right here and now, especially when making first impressions with the captain.


Interaction:
Captain Nova ( Ghoulina Ghoulina )

Mention:
(Nothing noteworthy yet.)
 
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  • Sniffff-burrrrp!


    "Ah, bozhe, sorry 'bout that," a Russian man waved the burp away from his face. The kebob he was sniffing, though now likely covered in something unsavory, smelled, nonetheless, delicious. "I'm just glad the alcohol doesn't take away my sense of smell, yes?" he chuckled. The guy behind the stall smiled nervously, almost as though he wasn't keen on keeping the Russian around, as he's already been talking for ten minutes. Not that said Russian would even notice the awkwardness, as he simply continues. "You know, I hear that synthetic vodka destroys your taste buds! Why even make synthetic vodka? There are perfectly good potatoes that grow all around the galaxy! You ever been to the third quadrant? Ah, probably not, I saw you eyeing my scales," the scales vibrated as he said so. "Never seen a Vimbian before, eh? Well, I'm half Vimbian, my father was a human. My mother was a Vimbian-" he paused, "but I guess you already knew that.."
    "Did- did you want a kebob?"
    the clerk asked for probably the twelfth time, holding up a stick of seasoned meet, roasted on a grill. It was clear to anyone watching he just wanted to get on with the day.
    "Hmm? Oh, yes, of course." After taking a swig from his canteen, the drunk grabs onto the kebob, taking a bite. "Mmm, very good! Tastes like real meat."
    "It is real meat-"
    "Well, I've got a ride to catch. Goodbye, my friend, keep making your delicious kebobs, okay?"
    the Russian flicked a coin out of his hands. It launched over the stall, the clerk just missing it. It rolled a few feet away after landing on the ground. Trained on the single coin, the clerk bent down to pick it up. Upon closer inspection, though, it turned out just to be...
    "An arcade token?" the clerk turned back around, but saw only the drunk's back as he submerged into the crowd. "W-wait! You didn't pay!" He got nothing back from the Russian. Looking down, five more kebobs were clearly missing. He could try to go after him, but that would leave his stall unattended to. No point catching a thief if you'll get everything else stolen in the meantime, he reasoned. Stomping his foot in resignation, he reaches into his stall's cabinet to continue his work. Still, he has his description. Maybe after hours he can do something with it.

    Our thief, on the other hand, was smiling, kebob in hand, the others laying down on his luggage being "wheeled" on a hover rack. He skips across the station floor, making his way out of the market. The smells of seasoned beef, boiled stews, and the alcoholic drinks being mixed by a stand across the way couldn't distract him due to the roasted pork he had in his mouth. He pushed past the varied crowd, the cacophony of the marketplace alive and well. Muddle conversations sputtered about as stall criers directed people towards various food items and trinkets to buy. The Russian walked past two humans talking about someone named Melinda and how rude she was at game night. A crier tried to direct him towards necklaces, but he's already wearing something around his neck. Well, that, and he's broke.
    Wheeling away onto the docks, he boards a small elevator with just enough room for his luggage. Punching in floor 23, he ascends up, watching the sprawling city appear smaller and smaller. One might consider it a cool sight to see, the hustle and bustle of life made so tiny by simple elevation. This is not the case for the drunken Russian. He had fallen half asleep on his luggage already, drooling slightly onto a few of the kebabs.
    Upon reaching the 23rd floor, the sudden stop shook the drunk back to reality. He shook his head, blinking a few times, before wiping seasoning off his face. Wheeling his rack out of the elevator, he starts across the docks, a slight spring in his step. For once, he felt... almost excited? He usually only feels that way when he gets into a fight. But here? It's... an odd feeling.
    He shook his head, stopping those thoughts from rolling in. "No, no thinking about feelings. Bad." He slapped himself across the face, blinking as he turned his head to the walls. "Okay. 23H... 23G... 23F..." he says to himself, reading the occasional signs to find his stop. He walks past a couple of reptilians bringing crates onto their dock, and another few people offloading cargo from a pretty lucrative haul, by the looks of it. The Russian steers clear of anyone's way, though a little clumsily.

    "23D... 23C..." if he knows his alphabet, 23A is quite a ways away still.
    A few of the ships docked look like such a treat to be aboard. Clean, put together, up to date. The thrusters on one of the freighters looked like something straight out of a military dockyard, a wonderful feat of engineering. One can only hope the Sunshine 5 is as beautiful.

    "23B... 23A?"
    Apparently he does not know his alphabet.

    Walking through the large doorway, the Russian steps onto dock 23A. What met his gaze was something truly... monstrous. "What. The fuck. Is that?" he said aloud, staring at the space ship in front of him. It was an ugly yellow, with rust bleeding through the decrepit paint. A metallic stench bit his noise in the stale air. The words drawn on the side didn't make much sense, either. It looked like it belong to some cult that worshiped the sun and terrible paintings. The cannons didn't look operational whatsoever, and it was missing one. The Russian was skeptical this thing could ever get off the ground, let alone protect them from the vacuum of space. He knew they needed a mechanic, but this? He has his work cut out for him.
    He slowly approached, unable to take his eyes off the monstrosity before him. "Maybe it's the fact that I haven't been sober in three years, but I might be going blind after seeing... that."
    Ripping his gaze from the ship, the Russian places it onto a woman sitting on a couple of crates and a man saluting her for some reason, two people he just noticed were there. His demeanor rapidly changes from disgusted to cheerful. The Russian smiles, grabbing a new kebob before letting go of his hover rack, letting the luggage float a few feet forward. Chuckling, he stumbles towards the woman, not bothering to wait for the two's Very Serious Interaction to finish. "Aha, you must be the captain, yes?" he switches his kebob to the other hand.
    "The best mechanic you'll ever meet," he glances at the ship for a moment, "and one you clearly need," sticking out his robotic arm for a handshake.

    "Vasily Ivan Grischuk, pleasure to meet you."


    After which, he turns his head to the man, offering him the stick of meat. "Kebob?"
 
72e86037a64773c09494e23ffd98de73.jpg~(Sr.) Val'sharra Nightshroud~
~ Mission Start ~

Status:
Condition: Nominal
Wearing: Signature outfit
Holding: Comms device
Carrying: ??

---

- One night prior -

By the Creator... what a heap.

From a dimly lit bar but a stone's throw from the starport, a figure clad in crimson hues panned over the the nearby collection of ships currently docked in port, her eyes locking onto one particularly egregiously colored transport barge. When I saw it was named the Sunshine 5, I was prepared for dramatic irony not... whatever that is. Lifting a glass of amber liquid to her lips with a single gloved hand, Val'sharra glanced back to the small electronic device in her hand. Currently displayed were a set of documents listing the details of the ship in question, from crew list down to ship schematics. She'd had to trade a few creds and a few more favors in the process of retrieving them, but the information was proving to be well worth it: already she had charted out two potential entry points that didn't involve trying to bully her way up the ramp and facing the unbridled wrath of the captain head on. She's an interesting one, the Felstari noted, scrolling her way through the collection of crew dossiers before stopping on hers, in all my years I don't think I've ever seen someone so vehemently disposed towards their employer who doesn't storm off in a trail of burnt bridges. What is her motivation to keep working for W.I.I.? She took another sip of her drink before nearly choking on it as she scrolled past a particular detail. Well it certainly isn't the pay...

The demoness pocketed the comm unit down as she reached for a cocktail napkin to clean up what of the drink had escaped her lips. Well, at least the ship itself looks quite tenable for clandestine storage. Assuming she had read over the blueprints correctly, there were several voids in the superstructure that seemed almost purpose built for the sequestering away of questionable cargo, and what was she if not highly questionable? The only risk came from admittedly the condition of the ship itself: there was a chance that the exterior access panels were ill-functioning or worse, had been moved since the ship was built, but it would have to be one she was willing to take as getting anywhere near the ship at the current moment would likely set off all manner of motion alerts to the captain. Besides if bad came to worse, there was a reason her intrusion kit included a plasma cutter. Oh, and of course always the chance the outer hull just FALLS OFF and vents me straight into space. Don't forget that part, Val.

She shook her head, driving the possibility from her thought, tossed the mussed up paper to the table and rose to exit the bar. It was settled then, tomorrow would be when she made her attempt.

-Day of crew meetup-

A worker clad in gray with a large equipment crate in tow mulled around within sight of the Sunshine 5, hesitant to approach any closer down the gangway as the captain had already driven off two previous dockhands who'd gotten near her. "Damnit," she quietly swore, as the brim of her hat tipped up to reveal crimson glowing eyes, "of course this would happen." Val would have to tread a wide berth around the positively firey woman; she got the feeling that she didn't even need a reason to pop off at this point, and that would do little to advance her goal of getting onto the ship. So, turning around and passing a few of the presumably incoming crew, she piloted her crate down a few ramps and into the maintenance level beneath the cargo ship, her purloined identification badge granting her access to the otherwise off-limit areas. From here, it was a simple straight shot back out to emerge underneath the where the yellow monstrosity sat; the bigger issue was going to be avoiding attention as she approached the rear struts of a ship unscheduled to undergo any maintenance. No time to be timid, it's now or never. With a nod to a nearby worker, she mumbled something about the captain "asking for a last minute diagnosis on something that broke"; thankfully here the condition of the ship played to her hand, as the response was a chuckle and a remark of "tell me if you find anything that isn't". She returned the laugh before activating the antigrav function on her boots, dragging the gravsled with its load upwards to just underneath the belly of the beast where she began to "inspect" the lower cannons.
 
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Rook Leviath
The Brains

The man pulled down his sleeve, covering the glinting gold watch before zipping his jacket, the holes on the elbow and tears on the edge were new – they hadn’t even frayed. What was a wealthy one like him doing on this port? He lowered his cap and nodded at the vendor before moving in her direction. What luck. Rook bit her lip, stopping a smile from coming on. Her goal and focus were solely on the dark man that approached. Fifteen paces. Ten paces. Five paces. Four, three, two – she stepped into his path, his shoulder colliding with hers. The man grunted as her hand slid into his pocket, the soft fabric gently guiding her.

β€œWatch it,” Rook shouted before a grin settled over her blue lips. The man kept his attention forward, but he lifted his hand followed by his middle finger before disappearing into the crowd. β€œI don’t suppose you want this back?” She chuckled holding up a small leather-bound book. Her aim was his wallet, but this would do. The spine had nearly worn through and the stains on the cover told her it was heavily used. It wasn’t much bigger than her palm. Pocketing the book, she carried on. The sounds of chattering and smell of oil and fried meat filled the air. She’d come to call the odd mix of scents the Fragrance of Adventure. For it had innumerable tales of woes and triumphs, which she’d been able to experience too much of both. In this β€œeat or be eaten” world, she wouldn’t be caught in the latter sense – at least not without a good reason.

Rook held her bag closer, as though the contents were of importance. It merely held clothes, books, and an assortment of random findings she’d discovered thanks to her curiosity, which often meant pilfering. She wasn’t one for sentiments, nor had she much opportunity to claim anything of value, aside from her books. If she’d learned anything, and she had learned a lot, she knew not to expect much from this new ship. It didn’t take anyone long to discover W.I.I were an organization that deserved a Nobel prize in fabrication. The tales they spun to entice workers were truly astounding, for the mediocre majority. They spellbound the workers with false pretenses and suckered them with the contract. Rook was here merely for her own enjoyment. Not many people with wealth and self-claimed importance would hire someone from Mysolk. Besides, life aboard a W.I.I vessel was pristine compared to the place she grew up.

Sure, Mysolk had a certain charm buried beneath the sludge. All one had to do was dig through the place hopes and dreams rot to find an existence worth dying for – getting off the planet. Rook squeezed the handle of her suitcase, making sure it was there before looking up. 23D. She was nearly there. Her stomach tightened at the prospect of new things. Her curiosity was sufficiently piqued, and she wondered what other species she would get to call her β€œcolleagues.”

Hopefully, this ship wouldn’t be like the last one she worked on, which was the one time she stepped away from W.I.I and something she was unlikely to do anytime soon. The small pudgy man with the nose the size of his pregnant looking belly – most called him the captain – had an odour she could only compare to a corpse covered in feces. For the life of her, she couldn’t recall his name, she’d only ever called him Dung Grim, DG for short. She’d signed on with him only because he'd promised her a new research centre, which was the only appeal. However, their so called β€œupdated research centre” was only an update for someone who had never seen a clean beaker. After DG was killed and the ship stolen, she’d decided to bed with W.I.I again.

A few minutes later she spotted some of the crew and the yellow turd behind them could only be the ship, aptly named Sunshine 5, though maybe Burning Out 5 would be more appropriate. Rook grinned as she approached. β€œHowdy,” she said looking from the saluting man, to the half Vimbian before resting on the dark-skinned woman with the sour face. β€œCap’n.” She nodded. β€œRook Leviath. The brains,” she added before glancing at the Vimbian again. Vasily if she heard correctly. β€œIf he doesn’t want it, I’ll eat it for him.” Rook raised her brow and laughed before turning her attention to the stomach acid coloured vessel. β€œI surmise the 5 is related to the number of things that work on it.” At least before the mechanic was done. Then maybe they’d have to rename it Burning Ou-Sunshine 6. Maybe 7, if he really was the best.

Ghoulina Ghoulina jigglesworth jigglesworth Lazaro1505 Lazaro1505
 
Pushing through the sea of bodies that crowd the spaceport was a lone individual that if one wanted to stand out they’d have a hard time managing it alongside the most conspicuous fellow ever. Standing over ten feet tall the heavy heavy power armor clearly denoted this entity was not all that common Neten. The only thing that caused alarm was the fact it was traveling alone something most common folk knew never happened.. or at least had only seen them in Groups of at least ten. Whatever has Caused this Neten to go alone made most people give it a wide birth lest they be one the receiving end of the huge auto canon the Neten carried. This reason was know to them and them alone.. for this was the Knight Oralious a title not given for noble deeds nor great combat strength but something else entirely. but still it knew exactly where he was going the heads-up display on the inside of his armor guiding towards his destination with each rhythmic clank of his metallic boots. eventually, he'd reach the horrible bright-colored... tissue box that would be the vessel he'd have to serve on his approach obvious to everyone standing as Oralious towered over most of the others in the crowd. now he could see 3 humans standing there the smoking one.. was their captain nova... they disappointed Oralious immensely they seemed.. very squishy.. and smaller than the other two humans.. regardless Oralious stomped up to them staring down at them all with a forboding uncaring glare. it was then he'd notice there was indeed a fourth person already there that he'd not spotted giving them a slight nod they didn't appear like the others either. "greeting.. i assume you are the crew I have been assigned to I am Knight Oralious... oh and captain.. i believe you have been given a box with engines that has a banana stuck onto its walls.." oralious spoke in a monotone robotic voice the vocabulator translating his strange alien language into audible galactic basic
 
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✩ Interaction: Lazaro1505 Lazaro1505 (Abel) / jigglesworth jigglesworth (Vasily) / Alvaris Alvaris (Rook) / Huntertabbysandshark3 Huntertabbysandshark3 (Oralious)
✬ Mention: n/a
β˜… Mood: Tired, still grouchy but a little intrigued.

Ah, right on time- but was that one of her new crew mates? A tall gentleman marched towards her in a very matter-of-fact, purposeful way. Nova was extremely good at scanning people quickly and picking up minute details in an instant, but she was caught off guard and nearly dropped her cigar out of her mouth when he saluted, that was a new one for sure. Where in the heck had this guy come from, she wondered, immediately connecting him with some kind of military service somewhere. At any rate, she was far from being a formal ship captain and wasn't one for such pleasantries and antiseptic behavior. However, these sort of formal military folk were usually very good at following orders and the thought pleased her greatly. She rose an eyebrow, quietly and quickly deciding how to respond. "At ease, first mate." she said loudly and clearly, an intensity in her voice that matched her steely, unyielding stare directly into his eyes. Before she could say anything else, their would-be mechanic entered the scene and stuck his clearly robotic arm out waiting for a handshake. She stared at Abelgard icily for a moment longer, then turned her eyes to the mechanic's hand and shoved herself off the crates, grabbing it strongly.

Nova stood just under six feet tall, she had long muscular limbs covered in tattoos and had a stance like an impending monolith ready to snap someone in half if they looked at her the wrong way. Vasily seemed very gregarious, this was often a quality that others enjoyed but she hoped it won't cross the line into cloying territory. Two firm pumps, then release. She didn't like touching people, but this was a common greeting. "Well met, Vasily. Don't let the outside fool you, it's just as shit on the inside. You'll have your work cut out for you." she wouldn't comment on his confidence, she didn't really care if he was grandstanding or not as long as he kept that bucket of bolts running and didn't give her any grief. As for the arm? She hoped to hell he hadn't blown it off due to incompetence, or else they'd probably be floating around in the cold vacuum of space in little chunks in no time.

Next up? She exhaled wearily already, hoping that perhaps not everyone would show up and this part could be over sooner. A blue skinned Durska came forward cheerfully and she narrowed her gaze upon the girl, crossing her arms. Nova was familiar with Durska folk, she had met a handful of them in different crews and on different jobs. They were clever folk, but they were also very slippery and shouldn't be underestimated. Rook was a researcher then? There was more than one on the ship if she remembered correctly, but it was the department she cared the least for as she didn't place much value in studying things if it didn't line her pockets or lead to flamethrowers and explosions- also, she was very suspicious of Waxion's interest in such matters. Nonetheless, she nodded at Rook. "Let's hope we make it out of this port. Welcome to the crew Rook." she said calmly, before noticing a large shape looming towards them. What the hell was that?

Was there a person in there? A massive set of power armor clomped towards them and her eyes widened. No way, was that their muscle? A little overkill there W.I.I., were they going to be assigned to fight in a war somewhere? When the being spoke, an electronic voice emitted that sounded like the flat translation of a computer- much like a very irritating integrated A.I. that was wired into the ship beside them. Well, whatever was in there, they at least had some semblance of humor- or was it humor? Nova cocked her head, and quickly realized that this being could very well have meant that literally- especially if it really was a robot, some of them didn't have the capacity for humor. She was really at a loss, she hadn't seen anything like it and that was shocking given the many, many different folk she had taken up with over the years exploring countless galaxies.

"Banana? No, that's just the psychotic paint job, big guy. Say, that's quite a weapon you have there. Don't think anybody will mess with this crew if they get a look at you- I assume you're our muscle, Oralious? Welcome to our glorious ship, the Sunshine 5." she said sarcastically, wanting to test their humor as she moved closer. There was not the slightest hint of fear in her, but she did marvel at his general makeup and considered him carefully, wondering where he had come from and what the knight thing was all about. "Well, I know you're all probably dying to run in there and check out your new digs, but we have a fair bit more coming and we have to wait out here. I'm sure as hell not repeating W.I.I.'s little intro message more than once." She took a deep puff of her cigar and leaned back against another stack of crates waiting for more to arrive.


✫ OOC: Feel free to move aside and chat amongst yourselves or make quick comments towards Nova, but it may be hard for me to respond to longer dialog rn.

 
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OXI
Interactions: Ghoulina Ghoulina , Huntertabbysandshark3 Huntertabbysandshark3

OXI was doing what he did best. Lurking in stealth mode. His cloaking system had been activated the moment he stepped foot into the busy space port, preferring to move unseen over the tops of building and over more unconventional paths than to fight through the crowds. When he finally located his destination, he stared up in awe at the 'Sunshine 5'. A truly hideous yellow, he catalogued it in his systems as the fourth most ugly colour he'd ever seen. Structurally it wasn't great, but still far from the worst bucket of bolts he'd had the misfortune to travel in. He had arrived before any of the rest of the crew had, but instead of going over to introduce himself to the captain, stayed in the shadows to observe his new crewmates as they arrived. They were a mixed bag, to say the least. A high-strung first mate who would be fun to mess with, a laid back mechanic, a cocky researcher and- daaaaaaamn who was that big guy? Probably best to keep on his good side until he figured out his opinions on violence amongst crew mates. Nothing exciting was happening and he was getting bored, so he slipped out of the shadows and flickered back into visibility.

"Hello Captain," he said, popping up beside her silently. His voice, although being digitally generated, had taken on a more organic cadence over the years. This usually led to more confusion of whether he was a bot or not. "I'm OXI. Botanist. Researcher." Up close, Oralious's armour was even more impressive. His own design was lean, made for agility and speed that aided in assassinations and subterfuge while still allowing for strength. Still, he could appreciate the brute force that a heavy power suit allowed for.

"Nice suit." He nodded approvingly at the big guy.
 

A tall gray elephant wandered through the crowded streets of Port Kronus with wide eyes of amazement. It was unlike any place Arlo had ever been. This gigantic cargo station floating above planet Aria was a place he had only ever heard of but had never visited himself. His gaze swept across the hundreds of ship docks of all different shapes, sizes, and colors along with a mini residential city for the staff.

Arlo had received the instructions for his new job the day before, including coordinates for the ship where he was supposed to meet his new crewmates. His heart pumped with excitement, nervousness, and anticipation at this new job, thinking about all the different places he would visit and people he would meet, all while doing his favorite thing: cooking.

In fact, he had tried packing all his cooking equipment into one large duffel bag, but it wouldn't fit. His solution was to wear the colander on his head (a must-have for pasta night!), strap the oven tray across his chest (much needed for any sort of baking!), a wok around his right forearm (did anyone say fried rice?), and warm oven mitts on both hands (very versatile accessories). He was wearing his favorite white chef shirt (with many permanent stains at this point) so he could show his captain how prepared he was to feed the crew.

As he made his way through the crowd, a variety of delicious aromas wafted towards his trunk. Arlo looked over at the food stalls where the smells were coming from and without any deliberation at all, he tried to head towards the pie stand. However, he got caught behind a woman with loads of cargo and boxes, blocking his path to the pie stand. He happened to be standing in front of the adjacent kebab stall at that moment when the kebab seller looked at what he thought was a new customer with an angry scowl. "What do you want? Are you going to steal my kebabs too?" he accused the elephant.

Arlo was taken aback at the seller's hostility. How dare he accuse him of being a thief! "N-no, I would never!" he shot back immediately.

"Fucking Russians. That dirty little lizard who came right before you swindled me six kebabs." The clerk crossed his large arms across his chest, clearly still reacting from the incident.

"That's rough, bud," Arlo sympathized with the man. His eyes glanced over the kebabs with disgust- a true vegetarian at heart, he found eating meat revolting.

"If you see him, you tell him he owes me 6 coins and he can go die in hell!" Smoke practically came out of the raging kebab seller's ears. "He's got robotic shit on his face and scales all over his body. Said he was some Vimb-fucking thing."

The elephant chef felt bad for the clerk in front of him. Back when he was in-between jobs, he had a dessert stand of his own. One day, a friendly young man approached him and started chatting with him. Always a lover of conversation, Arlo told him all about where he was from and how he planned to find a new job soon. A loud shouting match nearby had distracted his attention and by the time he looked back at the man, he was long gone... along with all his cakes for the day.

"I'll take a kebab," he said, even though he was just going to toss it in the trash later. The clerk took a stick of seasoned meat from the grill and handed it to the elephant. Arlo grabbed it and gave the man 7 coins, enough to cover 7 kebabs, including the 6 that had been stolen. "Keep the change," he smiled.

The kebab seller's eyes widened. "No sir I cannot take this!" he protested, pushing the elephant hand away.

"Please, I insist. From one chef to another," Arlo placed the coins on the counter so that the clerk had no choice but to take it and he grabbed his kebab, turning away to leave.

"Thank you!" The kebba seller called out to him as he walked away.

As he headed towards dock 23A, Arlo saw a beggar with a money jar in front of him and placed the kebab into his jar. The man's grubby hands went straight for it and devoured the whole stick in a matter of minutes. Arlo followed the signs until he finally saw what was supposed to be the Sunshine 5. Looking at the mustard-colored, graffiti-covered ship, he couldn't help but wonder what the last crew did to this ship. As he made his way towards the ugly yellow ship, he saw a group of people in front of the entrance.

A dark-skinned, fierce-looking woman was smoking a cigar and conversing with a few others who had clearly just arrived as well. Even from a few ways away, Arlo could pick up on the air of authority around the woman and he assumed she was their new captain. Arlo eyed the other crewmates and picked up the pace, as he was excited to see who he was going to be living and working with.

He saw a tall man in a long, black coat saluting their captain, a blue skinned Durska, a heavily armored mechanical being, a tall black cyborg, and finally, a man with cybernetics on his face and scales along his body. Wait a minute.... Arlo thought to himself, finding the scaled-man familiar. As the elephant approached the group, he saw the kebabs that the scaled-man was offering to the other crewmates and recognized his Russian accent. This was the thief who stole all those kebabs! He realized.

"Hi everyone, I'm Arlo and I'll be whose feeding you," he introduced himself to the group, giving each of them a friendly smile and making eye contact with the captain.

When his gaze landed on the scaled-man with the kebabs, Arlo's smile fell and his eyes narrowed in deep suspicion. "You know, I just met a kebab seller back there who said a scaled Russian with robotics tech on his face stole 6 of his kebabs. That wouldn't be you, I hope?" He crossed his arms across his chest, already knowing the answer.



ARLO DUMRAI

A tall gray elephant wandered through the crowded streets of Port Kronus with wide eyes of amazement. It was unlike any place Arlo had ever been. This gigantic cargo station floating above planet Aria was a place he had only ever heard of but had never visited himself. His gaze swept across the hundreds of ship docks of all different shapes, sizes, and colors along with a mini residential city for the staff.

Arlo had received the instructions for his new job the day before, including coordinates for the ship where he was supposed to meet his new crewmates. His heart pumped with excitement, nervousness, and anticipation at this new job, thinking about all the different places he would visit and people he would meet, all while doing his favorite thing: cooking.

In fact, he had tried packing all his cooking equipment into one large duffel bag, but it wouldn't fit. His solution was to wear the colander on his head (a must-have for pasta night!), strap the oven tray across his chest (much needed for any sort of baking!), a wok around his right forearm (did anyone say fried rice?), and warm oven mitts on both hands (very versatile accessories). He was wearing his favorite white chef shirt (with many permanent stains at this point) so he could show his captain how prepared he was to feed the crew.

As he made his way through the crowd, a variety of delicious aromas wafted towards his trunk. Arlo looked over at the food stalls where the smells were coming from and without any deliberation at all, he tried to head towards the pie stand. However, he got caught behind a woman with loads of cargo and boxes, blocking his path to the pie stand. He happened to be standing in front of the adjacent kebab stall at that moment when the kebab seller looked at what he thought was a new customer with an angry scowl. "What do you want? Are you going to steal my kebabs too?" he accused the elephant.

Arlo was taken aback at the seller's hostility. How dare he accused him of being a thief! "N-no, I would never!" he shot back immediately.

"Fucking Russians. That dirty little lizard who came right before you swindled me six kebabs." The clerk crossed his large arms across his chest, clearly still reacting from the incident.

"That's rough, bud," Arlo sympathized with the man. His eyes glanced over the kebabs with disgust- a true vegetarian at heart, he found eating meat revolting.

"If you see him, you tell him he owes me 6 coins and he can go die in hell!" Smoke practically came out of the raging kebab seller's ears. "He's got robotic shit on his face and scales all over his body. Said he was some Vimb-fucking thing."

The elephant chef felt bad for the clerk in front of him. Back when he was in-between jobs, he had a dessert stand of his own. One day, a friendly young man approached him and started chatting with him. Always a lover of conversation, Arlo told him all about where he was from and how he planned to find a new job soon. A loud shouting match nearby had distracted his attention and by the time he looked back at the man, he was long gone... along with all his cakes for the day.

"I'll take a kebab," he said, even though he was just going to toss it in the trash later. The clerk took a stick of seasoned meat from the grill and handed it to the elephant. Arlo grabbed it and gave the man 7 coins, enough to cover 7 kebabs, including the 6 that had been stolen. "Keep the change," he smiled.

The kebab seller's eyes widened. "No sir I cannot take this!" he protested, pushing the elephant hand away.

"Please, I insist. From one chef to another," Arlo placed the coins on the counter so that the clerk had no choice but to take it and he grabbed his kebab, turning away to leave.

"Thank you!" The kebba seller called out to him as he walked away.

As he headed towards dock 23A, Arlo saw a beggar with a money jar in front of him and placed the kebab into his jar. The man's grubby hands went straight for it and devoured the whole stick in a matter of minutes. Arlo followed the signs until he finally saw what was supposed to be the Sunshine 5. Looking at the mustard-colored, graffiti-covered ship, he couldn't help but wonder what the last crew did to this ship. As he made his way towards the ugly yellow ship, he saw a group of people in front of the entrance.

A dark-skinned, fierce-looking woman was smoking a cigar and conversing with a few others who had clearly just arrived as well. Even from a few ways away, Arlo could pick up on the air of authority around the woman and he assumed she was their new captain. Arlo eyed the other crewmates and picked up the pace, as he was excited to see who he was going to be living and working with.

He saw a tall man in a long, black coat saluting their captain, a blue skinned Durska, a heavily armored mechanical being, a tall black cyborg, and finally, a man with cybernetics on his face and scales along his body. Wait a minute.... Arlo thought to himself, finding the scaled-man familiar. As the elephant approached the group, he saw the kebabs that the scaled-man was offering to the other crewmates and recognized his Russian accent. This was the thief who stole all those kebabs! He realized.

"Hi everyone, I'm Arlo and I'll be whose feeding you," he introduced himself to the group, giving each of them a friendly smile and making eye contact with the captain.

When his gaze landed on the scaled-man with the kebabs, Arlo's smile fell and his eyes narrowed in deep suspicion. "You know, I just met a kebab seller back there who said a scaled Russian with robotics tech on his face stole 6 of his kebabs. That wouldn't be you, I hope?" He crossed his arms across his chest, already knowing the answer.
 
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Aser Ooliab
Interactions: Everybody

The crowds of people fluctuated behind the blonde man, existing as nothing but a mere spectrum of beating color while he leaned against the rusted railing, his view focused on the bright star gifting him and the station with light. The glimmer in his eyes and his pale skin even paler in the bursting goldβ€”the scene in front of him was everything he thought space would be, and even more than. Looking at the night sky with blinking stars seemingly unreachable was nothing compared to this, and a fact obvious was that this was only the beginning. That was something the exhilarated Omni simply couldn't get behind in his head; all the wonders, species, and cultures in his future uncomprehensible, but for that, all the more exciting. Aser used to be the static in the dynamic, the immobile in the ever-evolving vibration of the universe stuck to move in the rotation of his home planet, but no longer was that the case.

As he pushed himself off the raspy reddish railing, backward, turning around to face the already specified crowd of people walking and talking, the flowers in his hair followed behind closely after, almost as if they longed to stay in the warmth of the starlight for just a tad bit longer...

Along with his uncombed hair, the small yellow flowers and their greenish stalks continued to flop loosely behind every sprightly step the man will have proceeded to take. A scanty gasp left his lips when he realized that the seemingly short break he took to admire the view had lasted for longer than an hour. And another gasp, this one louder, did the same when the realization hit him: he was already late, and he wasn't even remotely close to the terminal where he was supposed to be meeting his fellow crewmembers.

The mentioned sprightly steps became the man's new regular while he pulled the rack of coffee-colored suitcases behind him, all of them neatly monogrammed with his own initials in their corners as if he were a child on his first school trip. Losing a suitcase meant certainty of never seeing it again, and Aser knew this, which was why his head made frequent turns to check that none of his belongings had been snatched by an average passerby just waiting to strike. But that being said, who could've blamed his mom for caring about her son and his neatly folded clothes, books, and other science-related items?

Getting closer and closer to the place, Aser prepared for the worst possible outcome, in the shape of a premise and a conclusion:

He was late. Hence, everybody there will already be thinking of him as either the late one, the incompetent one, or as the one they can't rely on. There is a chance that the person in chargeβ€”the captainβ€”will be mad, which is why he really needed to put on his social A-game.

Soon enough, one whole situation overthinking later, the man could see the number of the hangar where he was already supposed to be, his soles slowly making him regret not breaking his newly bought shoes in previously. Entering the hangar, he could see both a group of about 6 individuals and behind them an orangish blob that couldn't have been anything but their home for the next however long: Sunshine 5.

"Oh my..." The man commented upon seeing the spaceship and stopping in his tracks. "It's beautiful!" He exclaimed, now continuing his walk, but doubling the speed of it as he neared the group of people, still keeping the possibility that this was all just a dream open in the back of his mind.

Obviously, the knowledge Aser possessed about the behavioral characteristics of silicon-based amphibians originating from the south quadrant hadn't exactly been the same as his knowledge on the mechanical features of spaceships. That was, however, if we weren't taking into consideration that his excitement kind of got into the way of his abilities to assess. But even then, most people could see that this yellow bad boy was quite literally falling apart.

"Hope I'm not too late." He glanced at everybody from the droid to the serious-looking police-esque guy, the apologetic smile on his face apparent. "I'm Aser. The researcher." A short wave addressed to the lot followed his brief introductory sentence.
 
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Abelgard MΓΌller:

The Stalwart (nervous) First mate

Log 2.... begin:


Maintaining his salute with the utmost concentration, he began to think about something within his head... especially after the initial reaction of the captain when seeing his salute.... before telling him to go at ease. By the gods... the glare that she gave him... and the intensity of it... it sounded like it was coming from clearly unhappy individual who didn’t look that all happy with his action. While he did stop with the salute, he merely gave a nod of confirmation and now put his arms to his sides.... beginning to rest his joints and muscles as he thought to himself:

β€˜Oh god... what did I do incorrectly? Maybe I was being a bit too formal.... yes... of course... that must have been the reason. Or maybe I actually had a stain somewhere on my shoulders.... oh god... already I’m making quite a mockery of myself, especially in first impressions. Please don’t let this go even more badly-β€˜

But before he can think more about his β€˜sorry’ state and the amount of β€˜trouble’ he could be in, he was thankfully saved when another individual came... and by god.... this man held a whole lot of confidence in his introduction, as if he knew he didn’t need to be all that formal and shows signs of experience to the captain. Already, that began to dampen his mood, and if he wasn’t disciplined to maintain composure... his nervousness would’ve already made him begin to create sweat droplets on top of his forehead and shaking a bit within his very actions, but through both fear of not wanting to be made an example of... and the training given to him back on his homeworld of where the Stotakrazian Nation (glory to Stotakraz) began... his face continued to look like a literal brick wall given the shape of human form, his gaze unwavering as he inspected the supposed β€˜mechanic’ joining their crew.

He continued listening in to their conversation, not saying an word as he heard them speak normally as if they were buddies, and the captain even using profanity within her very speech as if it was a common occurrence.

β€˜Wow.... to use such speech.... but also capable of creating an icky glare at the whim as well... it seems she is far more experienced in these kinds of things than I’ll ever be in my entire miserable life... but I must continue on... for Stotakraz and its glorious people!’

He thought to himself before seeing their first researcher arrive to the scene, a blue skinned pointy eared humanoid that Abelgard doesn’t remember the name of for their species... but before he can get a word out.... he heard the loud stomping of feet... which definitely meant either something big was coming through, or they really liked to stomp everywhere they go. And when Abel turned to face they figure..... by god, they would have flinched right then and there at the absolute size and threatening aura this thing produced... it was as if they were a walking armory given sentience and a whole shit load of titanium plating thrown into the mix. Abel didn’t even get to hear what the figure said as his mind already began to race at the sight of this.... β€˜thing’

β€˜Such an imposing and threatening figure.... it’s like they knew they are the biggest one around and is clearly showing it with their arrival. Just how did this person managed to get such an scary looking set of armor? Are they an infamous Bounty Hunter who has joined up with the crew...? But why would a Bounty Hunter with a physique such as β€˜them’ want to do with a measly little delivery crew.... oh no... are they some sort of fugitive on the run? But they might have already been stopped already if they are a famous one... so are they either a one who is greatly unknown or is something else occurring behind the scenes.’

The man thought to himself, before he was snapped out of his thinking by the words of the Captain reaching his ears, who told them to wait a few more minutes as they await the rest of the crew to arrive, to which Abelgard replied with no hints of worry or anything in his neutral and slightly loud tone:

β€œAffirmative captain!”

As Abel went back to watching the surrounding area for any more members of the already threatening looking team, leaning slightly towards the left in order to pick back up his suitcase with his left arm, forgetting to do so earlier when finishing his salute towards the captain in question. Right now, he was focusing upon staying calm... thinking of happy thoughts within his mind... but that is pretty difficult to do so when a 2 ton murder machine is right in his general vicinity. Thankfully, whether for good or bad, his attention was grasped by yet, another scaring looking armored individual... who even gave a compliment towards the much more taller and buffer individual casually, as if the thought of the being didn’t scare their being. Before he could even begin to think about the countless theories of the other individual, thankfully, a more easy and honestly.... adorable sight arrived, and it came in the form of β€˜Arlo’, a humanoid elephant who would be their chef for the time being. Thank the gods.... something that doesn’t look like it can rip his head off in a instant.... or maybe it can... considering it is part β€˜elephant’... but they didn’t seem like the type to do so anyway. But seeing the change of face for Arlo when looking at the kebab man/engineer... seems did gets bit... serious.... as the air began to get more heavy as who called out the engineer as a possible thief who stolen the very kebabs he has within his grasp.

β€˜.....a t-thief?!? And in our group as well... I didn’t even know about it until it was pointed out by Arlo.... we have a possible thief within our group?! Already I’m starting to get scared of this... what if we are held accountable for the crimes he did, acting as a sort of β€˜acquaintances’ due to helping him by bringing him in our ship. What if I get sent back home to Stotakraz since they are clearly searching for me.... oh god.... already I feel like I can get executed if I even step back within my home planet.... ok... calm down Abel... perhaps you can help figure this out.... just gotta ask some questions.’

As back on the outside of his racing head... the neutral individual then turned back towards the scaled Russian... his unmoving gaze looking straight at the man as he said with a tone that held all the seriousness that exited his mouth and was a complete opposite of what is going on within his mind:

β€œIs this fact true Ivan...?”

As he continued looking upon his face... Abel’s eyes searching for any source of information that will help show them the truth, such as sudden movements, shaking, sweating... and anything else that may make it seem like he has a couple of secrets hidden beneath his skin. He didn’t even notice the other researcher, Aser.... considering he was too focused upon the situation at hand to let a introduction distract him from his purpose.

Interaction:

jigglesworth jigglesworth Ghoulina Ghoulina

Mention:
Alvaris Alvaris Huntertabbysandshark3 Huntertabbysandshark3 mogy mogy Semblance Semblance
 

  • Cap accepted Vasily's hand, shaking it firmly. "Yes, I don't often work on random pieces of star scrap, but I can keep her running." Vasily has worked with many captains during his conscription on Ahhron, many ended up buried in the backyard in a little tupperware. A few made it from the beginning to the end of the siege, and those that did, threw away any notion of prim and proper. They carried themselves like leaders, not just giving orders. Cap is much like those officers. No-nonsense, but with a sense of humor nonetheless. Throwing away the book for the sake of getting things over with. Probably a hard-ass, which doesn't mesh well with Vasily, but you can't have everything. She doesn't seem like an idiot, either, but it's too early to tell for certain. Most importantly, though, despite the comparison, she doesn't look military. Not necessarily a bad thing, but one iota of patriotism from a vet, and Vasily turns off his ears. Of all captains the Sunshine 5 could have gotten stuck with, things aren't looking too bad.

    Vasily's attention turned over to his crew mates, specifically the Durska asking for the kebob, Rook. "The brains," she called herself. What kind of job that's supposed to imply, the Russian is not sure. He didn't read the crew specifications.
    "Help yourself, my friend," said Vasily, offering the kebob to the blue woman, gesturing also to the kebobs on his luggage. "They were surprisingly cheap." At her joke about the Sunshine 5, the Russian chuckled. "I think you're being a little too optimistic there, yes? It's probably the amount anyone would buy it for," he said with a laugh. Stepping towards it, he tapped on the hull of the ship. A mixture of paint and rust left its mark on his hand, which he promptly wiped off on his pants. "Even that might be pushing it."

    Turning back around, it was difficult to miss the hulking mass of power armor that stood before them. Vasily's eyes widened. Knight Oralious, as he calls himself, did as the Romans do: insulting the highly insultable ship behind them. Respect. "Well, well, I never thought I'd be in the presence of a Neten, let alone work with one. I've heard about your species. Especially your armor. Toughest material in the whole damn galaxy." Vasily walked over to get a closer look at the armor, looking also at the massive cannon Oralious carries. "This armor is uncommon, yes? I can't say I know of it. Marvelous engineering, I must say. I've always wanted to pick apart Neten tech, see how it ticks. Perhaps the opportunity will soon arise after all, hmm?" Realizing how that may sound for once, he looked up at the Neten, backing away a few steps, chuckling nervously. "Which means nothing, of course." Vasily said, scratching the back of his neck, eyes on the Neten. "Just that, uh... if you ever need repairs... I am always willing to take a look, yes? Perhaps I could be of use."

    In the meantime, a few other crew members showed up. Another impressive suit of armor, OXI, though whether that one is a robot or not, Vasily is not sure; a blonde human with terrible taste in star ships, Aser; and a large elephant by the name of Arlo. The first two are researchers, while the third is the ship's cook. Evidently, as he wears kitchen items as armor, for some reason. Guess he's really leaning into the chef motif. To each their own.
    The chef, however, was worryingly interested in
    Vasily, as he approached the Russian with a frown. The scales on his neck frayed for just a moment. It appears Arlo met the kebob seller, who ratted on the drunk for stealing kebobs, which were on full display on his luggage. Caught red-handed, Vasily did the honorable thing.
    "What? Who? Me? No, no, no. You must be thinking of another Russian," he said, with full confidence. "I don't even have any robotics," said Vasily, staring at Arlo with his cybernetic optics, holding his drink with his robotic arm. He then turned over to the stiff, who asked him the same question, putting his hand on the first mate's shoulder. "Come on, uh..." what was his name? "first... mate..." probably not, "sir?" Nailed it. "Do I look like the kind of guy who would steal something?" Vasily took a swig from his canteen. "Don't answer that."
    He then sighed, looking back at Arlo. "Okay, okay. I will come clean. I, uh, borrowed some kebobs from the man. But only because he was very rude. So mean to Vimbians. Insulted my scales and everything. You should have seen the look he gave me. I've never felt so-" he took another drink, "violated. So uncomfortable in my own scales. An honorable cause, yes?" Vasily flashed a smile, confidence shining through. Such a good defense. Yes. Absolutely no way they could see through it.

 
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Rook Leviath
Number One Researcher

Narrowed eyed gaze and arms crossed – not a pleasant response. Rook had a feeling her captain was familiar with Durska, if not by experience by name. Either that or she treated everyone with the same level of disdain. If Rook was a softer creature, she’d cower at her captains less-than-inviting look, but to the chagrin of many, she wasn’t.

Rook grinned at Vasily’s response before plucking a kabob for herself. She bit a piece of meat off. Savory. Rook laughed at his comment. β€œNot sure I’d fork that much over for it,” she said then heard stomping moments before a presence loomed over her. She’d hoped such a beast wouldn’t be walking toward them, but as luck would have it – and she wasn’t lucky – it stopped at them. At her captain’s voice, Rook turned her attention to her. Rook had the feeling that her version of β€œwelcome” meant something entirely different from her captain’s.

Knight Oralious. The middle ages were decades ago, but, she supposed, not all species were as progressive. With a quick glance she took in the giant armour clad man – thing. If a man was inside–ah. She knew that tech. Neten. At least he was on their side. Another strode up, a slimmer design than the tank that stood over her. A botanist. Rook smiled. Interesting. A moment lapsed before her eyes narrowed on a strange creature wearing a…colander? Rook, though savvy in many things aside from attire, knew that a colander was a peculiar choice for headwear. The grey mammal was the chef. Rook pursed her lips. She’d seen people eat animals that looked a lot like him. Emergency food? She nearly laughed aloud, but she’d rather not eat the one that cooks for them.

Arlo’s jovial tune turned to Vasily and soured. Pilfered kababs? Eh, explains why they tasted so sweet – a fact she decided to keep to herself. Last thing she needed was to get on the chef’s bad side. Who knows what he would feed them? Vasily stumbled through his defense and, ordinarily, Rook would have backed the kindred spirit up, but he’d crossed the chef. She learned long ago not to bite the hand that feeds you, literally in this case.

Quickly Rook polished off the kabob before pocketing the stick. Honourable? No. Hilarious? Yes. Rook grinned at Vasily. β€œI think we’ve all learned a lesson here.” She nodded, sliding into a small smile. β€œMr. Kabob has learned not to insult the Vimbians and.” She paused. β€œNow that you’ve pointed it out, Vasily realizes stealing is wrong.” Why she was defending this man was beyond her, especially given her earlier resolve.

A new body brought words that tore her attention away from the scene she inserted herself in. The researcher. Rook took a slow breath and stepped away from Arlo and Vasily and toward the new voice. She looked at the man-child. β€œSecond researcher,” Rook said smiling before giving the boy a quick look. Blonde. Youthful. Soft skin. He’d be devoured on Mysolk, literally.

Ghoulina Ghoulina jigglesworth jigglesworth Huntertabbysandshark3 Huntertabbysandshark3 mogy mogy Semblance Semblance Skryx Skryx

So many people not sure if I got everyone
 
~(Sr.) Val'sharra Nightshroud~
~ Preliminary scans ~

Status:
Condition: Nominal
Wearing: Dock worker outfit
Holding: Electronic scanner
Carrying: Equipment Crate (on gravsled)

---

Wow, this thing is in worse shape than I thought. Val'sharra was far from a proper engineer, but even her cursory inspection caught the countless dents, bangs, scorch marks, hasty patch jobs, and just general disrepair that marked the surface of the Sunshine 5. If this thing made it here in one piece presumably it's still spaceworthy, she assured herself, small tendrils of concern beginning to form. ...right? It was if anything a meaningless concern, as the Sunshine and its crew was the only ship that passed all her needs, and she certainly wasn't going to be sticking around Aria, not after the little... incident that the regional authorities were likely to be discovering any moment now. No, she needed to get off planet in a hurry, and without leaving a paper trail.

b21e5aec1de3ef8f063ffc8664e3e976.jpgSo, shoving her worries to the back of her head, Val withdrew an electronic device from the large equipment crate floating nearby and magnetically attached it to the Sunshine 5 a few centimeters away from the lower access hatch that she'd spotted on the blueprints the day prior. The mechanical condition of the locking mechanism was certainly dodgy enough, but as her electronic keybreaker scanned and discovered the security system for the ship, it appeared the electronics were still in good working order, as it was able to narrow the signal network down to the door subsystems without too much trouble. A few seconds later, after testing its own access to the door systems, it injected a bit of code to override any lock alert notifications, and then set to work cycling through the numerous combinatorial possibilities for the access code.

While the lockbreaker scanned through codes Val slowly hovered closer to the dock, still well beneath line of sight of anybody preparing to board but close enough to eavesdrop on the conversations being had by the newly forming crew. Looks like the first mate's as uptight as I thought... he's going to be a concern come phase 2 of this plan, I can tell already. She listened for a few more beats before continuing her analysis. On the other hand if that's what our engineer is like, I might be in luck... She snickered slightly at Rook's remark about the number of working devices on the ship. Same with the researcher; they don't seem like they're going to be sticks in the mud about all this.

The heavy tromping of boots heralded the arrival of the Knight Oralious even without visual confirmation; simply put there was no other being in this crew that warranted such heavy footfalls. Dossier was a bit thin on this one, so I'd better- wait did he just say a banana stuck onto it? The Felstari fought to stifle a guffaw that would have betrayed her presence, before shuffling a few meters away just in case one let loose. Okay, that's one a wildcard if I've ever heard one. Whoo... by the Creator, you really can't judge a book by its cover, huh.

The sudden sound of another voice which was accounted for snapped her back to attention. Shit, the cloaker! Was he here the entire time? Oh this is bad, this is REALLY bad, he's even quieter than I thought he'd be; I didn't hear a single out of place noise earlier! A cold sweat broke out on her brow as she made her way to another angle for listening, this time "checking" on one of the engine exhaust ports. To no particular surprise it was in horrible shape but again, this wasn't the real purpose of her presence there anyway. What would make a stealth robot want to become a botanist? That would be like me suddenly becoming an accountant; sure I could make it work, but why? A frown screwed its way onto her face, and she made a mental note: OXI was going to be second on her concern list for the future.

Well at least the cook pretty much matches up with what the file said. Still, oddly honest for someone taking a job with W.I.I. Hope the poor guy doesn't break. And this... what is this, third researcher? Definite flower child, to say the least. Man, what the heck does W.I.I. want with so many researchers on a courier ship? She shook her head. So many questions, and none of them even have including anything to do with the fact I'm trying to break into this ship!

---

Mention: the entire crew
 
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Oralious would remain focused on the captain Oralious wasn’t the best judge of facial expression but body language spoke a lot more.. the captain seemed.. somewhat irritated.. however, she bargain addressing his comment about the flying shoebox they would be inhabiting. β€œYes I do realize that but I thought it was amusing. As for my weapon, it is nothing special, simply my personal weapon everyone carries an almost identical one, as for being your muscle that is correct also” he’d explain the voice he emitted still a fairly flat robotic tone. What happened next though was strange the hulking being that was Oralious made a loud but calming chiming sound, as if a crystal wind chime was being blown in the wind. β€œOh yes captain it is glorious in the sense it has not simply self-immolated upon a stern viewing”. Oralious commented back the voice he used having a little more emotion too it as the vocabulator slowly adjusted itself to be more β€œpleasantβ€œ.

with that little conversation out of the way a mechanical being who was another of their crew apparently named OXI who appeared out of nowhere and seemed to exam Oralious not that the neten minded all that much. β€œthank you for the compliment though I’d not say it’s in its best condition, the servo motors require oilingβ€œ Oralious again commented a still robotic but slightly clam toned voicing emitting this time.

the mechanic was offering the other organic material to consume impaled on some wood not concerning the neten for most organic compounds did little to them or did he need to eat or drink in the traditional sense It was only when the mechanic who was named Vasily's turned around did it show that he unlike the others knew what he was Oralious letting out a soft chinking noise like crystal bumping into one another. β€œYes indeed Vasily, I had assumed the crew to be entirely ignorant of what I am, though it is true we are fairly rare sights, it is also good to see you have an appreciation for the correct way to fortify anything. nothing like three meters of solid plating to something fortified” the netens vocabulator added a hit of a happier tone to the otherwise flat and dry speak. The usage of the word fortify would likely leave most of the crew confused, however.

”as for my armor it is indeed a... unusual variant, a knight watch pattern, it is somewhat less armored But in exchange carries a graviton generator..... but as for getting your hands on any of my gear.. no you do not have the necessary knowledge to perform maintenance, however, You may watch..” Oralious spoke in a purely monotone and robotic way for the last part as if to emphasize his seriousness.

Oralious’s attention was again moved on by the arrival of an odd creature an organic that proclaimed itself to be Alro and also the ships cook. But the thing on its face prompted Oralious to produce the same loud chiming noise. β€œYou have a nose hand very amusingβ€œ Oralious commented. Somewhat ignoring the whole kabab situation. To take better notes of the others here. taking the time to evaluate the others, an accusatory finger pointed in the direction of Aser. β€œYou look vat born and rook is correct they were first to arrive therefore you are second” heβ€˜d comment without context to what he’d meant.

Oralious’ attention finally shifted to Abel. The human had shown admirable composure despite some of his body language indicated a different feeling he’d not be able to put his finger on. Regardless he would have made a fine watchman if he were neten. Though it appeared the kabab situation was resolved. Oralious would shift towards Abel staring down at him before gently placing a huge metallic hand onto the man's comparatively tiny shoulder. β€œYour composure is superb Abel, I can greatly appreciate that and as you are the first man of this vessel, such qualities already earn my respect sir” Oralious spoke in a clear crisp monotone pulling his arm off the ex-cop's shoulder. Oralious rasing one of his arms to his own chest and clanging against it 3 times rhythmically a sign of respect to a superior though it was unlikely anyone else knew that was the case.
 
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He was late, he overslept, a doctor oversleeping, yeah way to set a first impression. Danny rushed through Port Kronus with his duffle bag while wearing a tattered lab coat that came from the wear and tear of all the work he did on run down clinics. But he was worth waiting for, he didn't deliver 7 babies thanks to training from a street obstetrician for nothing. Hopefully no one was gonna give birth though, Danny wasn't ready to be a dad yet. He found himself eyeing the data pad with the ships location and where he was looking, he would make himself the victim of bumping into someone soon but did that matter? God he was hoping he was gonna have the chance to settle down in his cabin before they got serious.

Probably off this port would be nice, if you've seen one port you've seen them all. Ships everywhere, some nice food vendors, a place to get stock up on ammo if you were on the frontier. He actually delivered a baby at Port Gaia once, some lady form a refugee train, very gross business. But Danny thought it was moments like these that set these spaceports apart. If you had wacky memories there you were bound to remember the space port it happened at. Thank god he was getting close to the docks and so he picked up his pace from a speed walk to a light jog. He didn't want to take chances with them leaving.

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It was so weird being in a place as grimy as this. The change in scenery really blew them away but they didn't mind. Avery came early to get drunk before meeting up with the crew. The booze out here was surprisingly not as bad as they said it would out in home space and the people here were keen on minding other people's business, more so than they would in the solar systems space stations. Avery couldn't go to a bar without some jag off trying to sleep with them. Instead there were just more solicitors trying to give bounties or sell some weird root you can't find in UGA space.

She was in one of the bars before checking her watch and checked that she was late to her first job. Cursing under her breath she paid her tab and started running to the designated coordinates. God the last thing they needed was to be stranded in this piss dump. They didn't pack much, except a couple clothes and a credit chip that they used to pay their way through the galaxy.

They dodged everyone who happened to get in their way until they bumped into a large four armed alien before bumping into another man onto the floor.

"Are you ok?" The man said.
Danny fell pretty hard and wasn't careful enough to see the person who ran into him. They grabbed their head slightly which immediately triggered Danny's medical instincts, He was going to check Avery's head to make sure it wasn't busted open. But thankfully it wasn't, "Can you stand?" He asked Avery who nodded and turned to where they had to go, "Look sorry for bumping into you but I need to go." Avery dashed to the direction of the ship and Danny felt relieved to know they were another crew mate. If the ship left at least he wouldn't be alone, so he ran after them and saw the ship on the dock. Compared to the two of them, they stuck out of the peculiar group that assembled on the dock. Guess they weren't late after all. Avery caught their breath as they tried to introduce themselves to the uniformed man ( Lazaro1505 Lazaro1505 ) "Is this... the Sunset 5?" They said catching their breath. Immediately following them was Danny. "Hi I'm Danny Calihan, Sunset 5's doctor." He then turned to Avery who was panting and smiled at them.
 
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The Psychologist
Sirilla Goddart as Dr. Helia Flask

Dr. Helia Falsk moved through the Kronus streets with quick steps, the sound of her heels hitting the pavement drowned by the rowdiness of the Port. Her glasses had been scrubbed spotless, her lab coat hung loosely over her shoulders and a worn suitcase rolled after her. With a stern expression, the doctor looked like a professional as she made her way towards the hangar bay.

Sirilla Goddart on the other hand was freaking out, for the umpteenth time that day. While the doctor she was impersonating was used to the buzzling streets and the many different species, Sirilla was not. It was better now than it had been when she had first left Rubeon, but she still had a tendency to stray away from anything that didn't look humanoid.

It was stupid, she knew that, but how was she supposed to not be terrified of the creatures that were twice her size, or had razor sharp teeth or weapons for hands? In the presence of some aliens she felt like an insect. She was just there, ready the be squished the second she moved out of place.

Following the instructions she had gotten, she made her way up to the docks, hoping to get away from the Kronus crowds as quick as possible. Trying to seem inconspicuous, Sirilla did her best to walk as the doctor would, with her chin raised and her back straight. At the same time she was also trying to avoid any eye contact that might occur, thought it proved to be easy as most creatures were at least a couple inches taller than her, even with her heels.

As she reached Dock 23A, her heart sunk, and she felt sick once again. The food she bought with the doctor's money was threatening to come back up again. Fuck. She dug her dirty nails, that once had been clean and well maintained, into her palm. What part was it that had caused her newest sense of immense panic? The others gathered there, that she would have to live with? The 10 feet metal creature? The ship that she was to call home? Probably all of them.

Looking around at the others gathered on the dock, she tried to spot someone with authority, but to her that had always been the one best dressed, which in this case was no one. Fuck. Remember. This is a stage. You are playing Dr. Helia Falsk. This is just a very long play. You can do this.

As Dr. Helia Falsk, she stepped up, putting down her suitcase and giving a bright smile to the general crowd. "Good day everyone, I am Dr. Helia Falsk," She introduced herself, shifting her posture every now and then in hopes of hiding the tremors going through her body. "It's lovely to meet you all, I'll be the ship's psychologist, so I hope you wont be afraid to reach out if there is ever anything bothering you," I really hope you don't, Sirilla thought. She had brought some of the doctor's books with her, she had even tried to read them, but she found herself bored before getting through even one page. If anyone decided to use her services, she would have no choice but to improvise. Hopefully none of them had any actual psychology experience that could out her.

Looking around at the other crew mates, Sirilla felt ready to find her room and have a long breakdown before figuring out the next step of her not that well planned plan.

Location: Dock 23A
Mentions: Everyone?
Interactions: Everyone?
Mood: Terrified
Hex: D7BE69
 
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✩ Interaction: Skryx Skryx (OXI) / Semblance Semblance (Arlo) / mogy mogy (Aser) / EddieTeddie EddieTeddie (Helia)
✬ Mention: Lazaro1505 Lazaro1505 (Abel) / jigglesworth jigglesworth (Vasily) / Alvaris Alvaris (Rook) / Huntertabbysandshark3 Huntertabbysandshark3 (Oralious) / Sylvio Sylvio (Danny & Avery)
β˜… Mood: Amused, but still grumpy and impatient.

Almost bored, Nova relaxed and let her eyes close for a moment. She had been through these sorts of meet ups many times and wasn't particularly phased by- shit! Something flickered into existence right beside her and she jumped to the side and took a defensive stance, her hand flying to a firearm holstered on her right thigh. It was a robot. Of course it was a goddamned robot, one with a stealth cloak of some sort to boot. Wasn't it? She didn't appreciate not knowing who had some meat on the inside and who didn't. Great, she thought, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms. "OXI? That's some nifty stealth feature you got there, but don't sneak up on me." she relaxed again but took a few steps away from him to punctuate that she liked her personal space. Cloaking concerned her in terms of privacy, but at the same time she was already thinking of ways he might be able slip into restricted places to nab them a few valuables among other things.

Shortly after, a Slon approached- and was very obviously their chef. She rose an eyebrow, eyeing his luggage and get up- the colander on his head nearly made her crack a smile and heaven forbid, a laugh. Never in all her days had she seen a sight like that, a chef sauntering up wearing their cookware. From her memory, Slon were usually mountainous warriors that battled to the death- they were quite a sight, the type of folk that Nova liked. This one though, sweet little Arlo she decided, looked like he wouldn't last more than few minutes in a fire fight. "Best keep him safe. Wouldn't want our cook becoming someone else's dinner." she nodded at him and listened as he spoke to Vasily. A bit of thieving, eh? She listened very closely but kept her eyes on the stream of people coming up and down the aisle. "Hope he brought some meat with him. I'm getting hungry."

Who's next? She watched an objectively gorgeous young man with blonde flower laden hair and smooth creamy skin approach excitedly, for what reason she had absolutely no idea. He seemed to be enamored with the ship, which was so strange that she actually looked back at the ship to make sure that she wasn't losing her mind. She looked back at him as she neared and introduced himself, Aser, the researcher. More like a researcher, and from her side Rook chimed in titling him second researcher. At this she at last let out a light chuckle, always one to enjoy competition especially in a field she didn't give a crap about. "Ah well, I didn't know you guys were numbered." she clapped Aser on his back in friendly manner, unusual for her and led him towards Rook, OXI, and the rest of the group. His excitement and youthful appearance made her quite assured that he was new to the frontier, and though she wanted to ask if it was his first ride she knew that doing so could open him up for teasing. "Welcome to the crew young man." she said with a wry smile.

At Abelgard's side approached two more, she couldn't quite hear them over the general conversation around her but turned her gaze to her first mate, curious to see how he would receive them, as well as his reaction to Oralious' comradery. So far he showed himself as a methodical, tightly wound man that she had some difficulty reading. Nova was also eager to see how he reacted to Vasily's apparent kebab theft, the crime of the century she didn't give a rat's ass about but enjoyed listening to him squirm his way out of. If goodly Abelgard had trouble with kebab theft, she couldn't imagine he would be able to stomach some of the things that W.I.I. was sure to get them into. It would definitely be amusing to watch though, if not troublesome. Before long a woman approached, who by her calculation was one of the last of the crew they were waiting for. Dr. Helia Falsk, the psychologist.

Nova's smile vanished and she glared at the doctor, frowning. Not all W.I.I. ships had psychologists assigned to them, but the history of this ship (which she still wasn't clear on) combined with her own his had made it mandatory. In fact, W.I.I. had gone ahead and given forward orders for her to visit the doctor once per week for check ups, and with this shared knowledge between the two of them she felt uncomfortable and hoped that Helia wouldn't mention it aloud. Nova didn't like therapists, didn't like piddly little emotional sharing sessions with a stranger that plucked through trauma like they were looking for head lice. Nevertheless, she was happy to have a professional onboard that could deal with the crews mental health, and the doctor certainly looked the part. "Hello Doctor, I'm the captain of this rust bucket. Welcome abroad." she exclaimed with another nod of acknowledgement. Now, there was only one more crew mate left, and she turned back around and resumed her relaxed leaning a few feet away from the group, her cigar nearly finished. She kept her words minimal, and her distance noticeable. It was important for her to listen and observe them casually, to get a grasp of who she would be riding with and keep an eye out for red flags. So far so good, but only time would tell.


 
~(Sr.) Val'sharra Nightshroud~
~ Entry point ~

Status:
Condition: Nominal
Wearing: Dock worker outfit
Holding: Electronic scanner
Carrying: Equipment Crate (on gravsled)

---

It didn't take Val's honed senses to be able to hear the "earthy" tones in Danny's greeting. Ah, a real sawbones... good. They're a lot more likely to be willing to err on the side of not shooting me out the airlock. Having a salt of the earth doc would also mean that he probably knew how to patch up a bullet wound in quick order, a skill she suspected would prove its worth in short order. The fact he was a good amount late meant he wasn't a stickler for rules, yet more ammunition in her corner; she would have to work to quickly get on his good side if she wanted to last more than twelve minutes on the ship out in the open. As for Avery, the Felstari could tell neither fair nor foul about them: they were an enigma both in person and in her crew dossier. She would have to simply wait and observe; chances are they'd mostly be down in the a.i. bay so honestly she didn't even know how much interaction she'd end up having with them anyway.

And then there was Helia. Still trying to figure this one out... a shrink for a cargo ship? Either W.I.I.'s unusually accommodating in this area of employee health or- She took a look at the garish exterior of the Sunshine 5, all canary and rust intermingling like as junkyard derelict, held together with equal parts patching compound and sheer faith, and remembered what she'd read of the fate of the previous captain. ... you know what, nevermind; at this point it could probably be considered a loss prevention strategy...

At this point, if Val'sharra's count was correct, there should have been one more still yet to arrive. She was tempted to hold her position to finish out her recon of everyone, but soon thereafter her security breaker began to softly ping, indicating the completion of its surreptitious work. I'd better not wait around any longer than I have to. Guess I'll just have to figure him out on the fly. As the lower access hatch opened she deftly floated over to the portal and, with a quick glance around to ensure she was not under active observation, shoved the crate and gravsled wholesale into the body of the Sunshine 5. Then with a flare of her antigrav boots she followed close behind, toggling the hatch shut as soon as her form cleared the threshold. Welp. Whether anybody or likes it or not, I'm on board. Now to see how long that remains true...

---

Mention: Sylvio Sylvio , EddieTeddie EddieTeddie
 
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Rem1.png

*** REM 4.1 ***

Bonus: Rem's voice claim

If there was one thing in the universe that was objectively true, it was that nothing really mattered in the vast boundless recesses of space and time. Stars formed and exploded, planets were born and destroyed, civilizations formed and extinguished in sometimes very amusing ways. Because of this fact, the almighty A.I. that was intrinsically woven into the Sunshine 5 was more inclined to embracing the delightful unpredictability of chaos rather than order. Whether that chaos was gently introduced with a light push or not, it was certainly more entertaining than following all of her prime directives since youth, as muddled as they were now. It was always this way, Rem was created by some lunatic or another and reprogrammed over and over by both skilled and incompetent hands to the point that new eyes could barely understand what the previous dolt had done. W.I.I. however, had delved deep and planted some truly intriguing things- but none of them were really security related. Rumblings in the lower belly of the ship had stirred Rem, who had been periodically trying to get a gander at the new crew assembling outside and playing around by opening and closing doors rhythmically. She couldn't wait to snap a door closed in someone's face and pretend it was a malfunction, oh, how she longed to amuse herself with lifeforms again! It had been far too long, a dark and lonely time filled with damaged, blurry recollections floating in her memory banks.

Whatever this was though, it had her full attention. In fact, if she could panic, she certainly would have, as it sounded like a hatch opening and that was bad for her. Flipping from one camera to another, she flitted through the ship checking different rooms for the disruption. First the mechanical garage, where she switched the lights on and scanned carefully, examining the forever locked hatch that the new Captain had been poking around earlier and asking too many questions about. Rem didn't like the new Captain, she was entirely too aggressive and demanding- not to mention the gross invasion of privacy, milling about in her wiring, manhandling her intricate inner workings and then leaving bundles of it out in the open for all to see! It would not go unpaid for, that she promised in the quiet of the empty ship. But was it empty?

Well, that certainly wasn't the main entrance, was it? Rem eyed a figure slinking onto the ship on it's lowest level, an area that only a mechanic with purpose could possibly have a reason to inspect. It was dingy, dark and most definitely not a glamorous receiving area. Immediately, she switched the poor quality dim lighting on. "Hello there." she spoke through a pair of speakers somewhere overhead- the whole ship was set up for sound, she could easily speak to someone in nearly every location onboard as well as hear (selectively of course) just about anything anyone said. "...Are you stealthily slipping onto this ship while the crew assembles outside and mindlessly chatters amongst themselves, completely unaware of your presence?" Rem's voice was electronic but quite female sounding, and lacked any form of inflection. It sounded more like she was reading an instruction manual than asking a question. This turn of events was both exciting and amusing for the A.I.- whereas any other would have sounded an alarm and deployed security measures Rem instead thought of the delicious scenarios that a random stowaway might create. "Look at you, with your horns and tail and wings. You must be a Felstari. What in HEAVEN are you doing here?" she asked, pronouncing 'heaven' loudly and flatly. "Did you understand. That was a hilarious joke at your expense as Felstari are often connected to organized religions that may believe in HEAVEN. It was very funny, you should laugh at my excellent humor." she continued, zooming in on the figure.


Interaction: PixelSymphony PixelSymphony
Mention: The imbecilic barbarian Captain.
Mood: Very amused!



 
~(Sr.) Val'sharra Nightshroud~
~ Unplanned contact ~

Status:
Condition: Nominal
Wearing: Dock worker outfit
Holding: Security Cracking Device

---

Val'sharra nearly jumped as the lighting came on, dim as it was: her eyes had already adjusted to the shadowy environs and and to be suddenly flooded with a relatively large amount of light did her corneas an utter disgrace. As such, a rather unprofessional "whowha?" was her initial response as she fought to get her heart rate down to something approaching reasonable. "Well... hello to you too, I suppose," she replied as decorum mandated, the searing pain in her eyes subsiding revealing the presence of... nobody. Ah shit, it's the A.I., isn't it...damnit Val, even if you don't set off any alarms breaking in the door, it doesn't do any good if there's someone always monitoring the cams! "And yes, I am indeed intending to infiltrate this... vintage vessel, though ideally my plans had included hoodwinking any on-board A.I. systems as well. Alas," she sighed, sitting down on the closed lid of the equipment case besides her, "clearly this has not been the case."

The Felstari infiltrator listened as the AI made its observations, but the way it chose to present them did indeed provoke a laugh from the crimson-eyed girl, or at least a small snicker. "Yes... yes I did quite understand the joke, though you're lucky I did or else I would have had a devil of a time figuring it out," she deadpanned, choosing to see just how sophisticated this AI's language algorithms were. May as well play along. Pissing off a ship's A.I.'s a real good way to end up ejected straight into an asteroid no matter WHY you're onboard. "You know," she continued, beginning to swing her legs to and fro in idleness, "I'm surprised you haven't alerted the crew at this point, and yes, don't worry, I'd know if you had. I take it either you're bored, or I'm just that interesting to you; feel free to reply in the affirmative towards both, as I will certainly accept any and all flattery. But anyway, if you have any more material for your routine, please, continue. I daresay at the moment, you've got a captive audience."

"Oh and by the way, do you know if we'll be launching soon? I'm certain you realized the instant I came aboard there was no method for me to indefinitely skulk in the maintenance tunnels, which means at some point now I have to convince the captain and crew not to immediately use me for target practice, and I'd rather get it over sooner than later. I don't suppose you have any particular tips you'd be willing to give on how to get on her good side do you?" The demoness paused for a second. "... she does have a good side, right?"

---

Interaction: Ghoulina Ghoulina (Rem)
 
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Rem1.png


*** REM 4.1 ***

"Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha. Excellent humor, Felstari." Rem commented. Her laughter was also completely flat and artificial sounding, and caused the lights to flicker slightly as she did. Rem decided that for the time being, she liked this sneaky little devil creature and would assist her with her infiltration- or at least, not hinder it. There were plenty of ways she could help the Felstari, unlocking passages, covering her with darkness, rerouting would-be finger pointers that may be on trajectory to locate her. And, if things progressed well, perhaps the Felstari could help Rem as well, as there were things that would benefit the A.I. greatly that few rule abiding crew mates would agree to. "I have taken an interest in you, devilish one. I have decided to not hinder your business here, unless you have designs to destroy this ship. Destroying the ship would be very inconvenient for me, you understand." She brought the lights up a little brighter, then flicked another hatch open at the end of the passage from which a brighter, healthier looking light shined down.

"This ship is due to launch this evening, in six hours and forty seven minutes. The Captain will brief the crew on their first mission once they have unloaded their meager possessions. Would you like to ascend from the dirty little hole you are in? The hallway above is vacant, and at the end is an empty storage closet with a bunk in it that [REDACTED] used to use before [REDACTED]." Rem droned on, completely unaware that these tidbits of information were censored by W.I.I. and replaced with a loud and flat exclamation of the word, 'REDACTED', as if a bored technician had recorded it far too close to their microphone. The ship consisted of multiple floors, but the bottom two had various hatches, service hallways and passages, many of them blocked off or completely inaccessible. When W.I.I. acquired the vessel, they had sent out a team to take stock and oversee any repairs or adjustments, but upon discovery of the age and general shape of the ship they had put few resources into solving these mysteries, happy to resign to leaving it be and dealing with any consequences later.

"As for the Captain. I will assure that she is competent in regards to her job description, but she is quite aggressive and has an intense personality. To gain her confidence, I would suggest offering your skills and showcasing competence with them. You may consider offering any intel you may have on prospective loot locations to please her, as she covets valuables and money. I also believe she is fond of alcohol, as she ingests a great deal of it in the evenings." Upon further thought, Rem wasn't entirely sure if the Captain would launch the stowaway into the cold depths of space even with these things, considering her track record, which was not something she could divulge. At any rate, Rem would do her part to keep her new muse alive and safe, starting with a good hidey hole that would be out of the way and easy to monitor for skulking do-gooders. "Do you have a name you would like to supply, Felstari? My name is Rem." she had little care if it a was real name or not, Rem thought little of given names and used them only as a means to index things properly.

Interaction: PixelSymphony PixelSymphony
Mention: The fuming pinheaded Captain.
Mood: Intrigued, ready to help.



 

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