driftfleet | A cry for help

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A cry for help

[a distress call has been tracked across the void, finally leading back to the source. a hulking crippled ship, teeming with hostile alien life, now lies before you.

what do you do? do you dive in or hang back? are you here to learn, play, build, or observe?

however you choose to proceed, your audience is out there somewhere, watching.]

ooc: here is a good ol' themed mingle to get you all started! and don't feel limited by the prompts and what they describe--they're just there as idea-starters, so feel free to go anywhere and do anything.

have fun!

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[his collar is grabbed! he's not exactly an easy guy to pull around--but at least it keeps him from trying to walk away with his cutting implement. Zhas' only answer is to... stand there and stare at him, though.

with his creepy, vaguely glowing orange eyes. what a weirdo.

what is he supposed to do, give it back?]

[Whoa okay hello, regroup. If there's one thing Ray knows, it's how to stare down really intense people. He lets go of Zhas' collar, but he keeps up the glare.]

You can't just go around taking other people's stuff, pal.

[Zhas stops staring to look down at the tool in his hand... and then back up at Ray.

...no, he's pretty sure he can. which he doesn't actually say, he just tilts his head a little.]

[God, he sucks at this. He can do non-verbal communication, but this is taking it a step too far. He twists his face into a scowl and moves closer, all the way inside Zhas' personal space. Which also holds a very sharp object. Tough cop mode: on.]

Gonna be smartass about this, huh?

[he does not shy away, or even really react--which is not to speak poorly of Ray's attempt, Zhas is just used to big, scary things hissing and threatening a couple inches away from his face. very quietly, he slips the sharp object into one of his large coat pockets, and then holds up both of his hands to show that they're empty.

look, no tool. no problem.

...yeah, he's gonna be a smartass about this.]

[Ray makes a loud frustrated noise, but doesn't back up.]

Look, pal, we don't need psychos running around the place carrying sharp objects. You're not really proving yourself a non-psycho, here.

[his expression gets a little more flat and dead-eyed... he resents the remark, despite being the one who decided to dress up like it's Halloween this morning.

still. he's not convinced.]

[Ray may not be a bad guy, but he's not always a nice guy- thoughtlessly cruel, sometimes, especially in these situations.]

Give me the fucking thing back, or I'm gonna kick you in the head.

[and, to be fair, Zhas isn't exactly one of the good guys.

given the way his only response is to smirk back at him (which is somewhat disconcerting, with the skeletal face paint), he might deserve a kick in the head.]

[Ugh, geez, this is giving him the heebie-jeebies. Still, it's not as bad as interrogating a guy who literally tried to bite his ear off, he can handle it.]

Alright, don't say I didn't warn ya-- [And grabs Zhas by the collar, starts pushing at him, aiming for a wall.]

[yeah, that's... even Zhas can't say he's ever bitten anyone's ear off. he just happens to take a deep, immature appreciation from being a royal pain in the ass.

in fact, after all that, he finally gets dodgy--ducking out of his grip entirely, taking a couple of steps backwards. is he going to chase him? or is he too much of a bother?]

[Well, if Ray has one thing going for him, it's that he's really stubborn. It's in his nature as a cop, and with the kind of perps he's had for the last few years, it's nothing more than necessity. He is absolutely going to give chase, out of principle alone.]

[he doesn't normally spend his time picking fights with humans like this... but he's been so bored. this is more his normal speed. he ducks out of the way a couple more times just to be a prick about it, taking steps to distance himself--but since Ray's bigger and probably faster, he can be properly grabbed up again in under a minute.

and he isn't going to fight back, or anything. he's just trying not to laugh.]

[When he finally gets him he grabs him by the collar and the arm, pinning him as much as he needs so he can finally draw the sharp scrap metal out of Zhas' pockets.]

Don't you laugh at me. [Grumbles!]

[thankfully his "laughing" stays more at "amused chuckling under his breath"--since his real laugh is terrifying and should probably not be heard by living humans.

still, he'll give up and let Ray rifle through his pocket. he can have it back. he's earned it for being a good sport (at least, from Zhas' point of view). though, while Ray is in there, he will also run into a couple of other tools, a pocket knife, a small, square mirror, a little container of black grease paint, there's probably a flat spool of thread down there...

he'll just hang out there and wait. arms dead at his sides.]

[He fishes out all of these things, looks at them cynically, and then demonstratively drops them back into Zhas' pockets. Because here's the thing: this isn't his jurisdiction, and he didn't come here to frisk Zhas. Just to get his sharp thing back.

In the end, he steps back, holding up aforementioned sharp thing, looking at Zhas with intent.]

There. All sorted out.

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A cry for help

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five years late but /slams back into this thread

well same here!!

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