video | action

[greyjane]

Who: Shai+open!
Broadcast: everyone
Action: Marsiva, if the new arrivals are so inclined.
When: Jan 26/16


[Not her first rodeo - being uprooted and tossed into the howling seas is sort of a thing at this point - so Shai looks cheery by all accounts. Have a wave, Fleet. When she speaks, it's with a strong accent that wars between being Australian and South African, with no discernible median point between the two, because #space shenanigans.]

So am I to brush up on my pirate brogue, or is this a respectable sort of kidnapping fleet?

[It's just amicable enough to hide the anger. She's rather good at it.]

At any rate, hello. Name's Shai Ebbisaryn, late of the Lattice and more recently of a quaint little place called Eudio. Give a gal a chime if you recognize either.

And, ah-- any word on whether or not we can get the Augments out without doing anything permanent? [A flash of a smile.] Asking for a friend.

[Obviously not, but it's said lightly.]





A; or, ❝bro, do you even lift?❞

[She can be found in the gym doing all manner of katas - obviously this is a lady who Knows Her Shit inasfar as sparring goes - and she'll be happy to invite you to participate if you look at all sturdy. Otherwise she'll strike up conversation for any number of reasons. Can you hand her that towel over there? What's your best bench press, sweetheart? Attractive, of-age (ie: over 18 at the very least and preferably somewhere north of 21) individuals of either gender might get a curious once-over and something like, 'Well aren't you a sight, darling' to the tune of playful flirts everywhere.]

B; or, ❝they call me mister farenheit❞

[She's definitely standing in front of that charming, large bay window idly letting a spark of electricity trail between her fingers. It's a bit like someone walking a coin across their knuckles, save that the electricity is more like a living little glob of plasma that drips and sparks with energy. It's a nervous tick, not that the rest of her body language gives her away. If anyone enters the room, that little plasma-looking glob will disappear in a hail of sparks (she's not trying to hide it, just being polite) and she'll give the newcomer a cheery smile.]

Don't know about you, mate, but I'm about ready to rip these bloody speakers clear off the walls.

Comments

[familyremains]

Yeah, that's what I heard, too.

[ She may be good-looking and willing to speak Dean's language, but that kind of talk gets his smile dropping down to nothing quick. It's bad enough being on a space ship. It's big enough, stable enough he can pretend it's one big building rooted firmly in the ground, nothing to it. ...But getting off the thing, and getting carted onto another smaller ship? Dean hasn't been on a whole lot of boats in his life but he's got a working knowledge of these things. The smaller the ship, the bigger the waves. ]

I don't like it.

[ And not just because of the airsickness thing, either. He crosses his arms, dangerously close to pouting. Or, er, brooding. Yeah, brooding, sure. That sounds better. ]

Feels too much like they're herding us, like cattle running to the slaughter. What's wrong with staying here? It's not exactly the Ritz-Carlton, I'll give you. It's missing the little mints on the pillows I love. But why put us up, feed us, throw a mixer and then send us off cold? I thought these Big Brother shows were all about rubbing people up against one another, not splitting them up. What's the angle?

[greyjane]

[She slings that towel back across her shoulders, hands gripping at either end of it. This place may've rolled out the welcome mats from on high, and they had the singular decency not to neuter her electrokinesis, but so far it's only the barest step up from Evichta. A cage is a cage no matter the bars. Anger claws its way out of all the dark places she'd thought she'd laid it to rest, and her fingers tighten in the off-white curl of the towel. Never again. At least she's spent most of her life in space, and she lacks the innate worlder claustrophobia. But damned if she can't sympathize.]

Don't think they care if you like it or not, mate. Else they'd have sent an invitation.

[She lets the towel slide through her left hand and then snaps it very lightly in the air with her right.]

Near's I can tell, their angle is 'entertainment'. Maybe that's all part of it. Right down to driving us to cook up theories on why.

[It's not quite a warning, per se. Who's she to censor a stranger? But it could be playing right into what they want, and she's-- resistant, shall we say, to the idea.]

Listen. Dean, you said? You any sort of fighter? Good way to blow off steam.

[familyremains]

[ Entertainment might be what they're selling, but Dean's not buying it. If they want to start some kind of intergalactic reality show, why not have them kill each other right from the jump? Put them in a ring and starve them, poke them with sticks? Or if they really want to watch humans in their natural habitat, why a space ship? Why a smaller space ship after this, a "fleet" ? No, it sounds more like they're soldiers in a war than actors. Or even more likely than that, they're food. Whatever it is, they're definitely being lied to.

But Dean doesn't need to scare somebody he just met when he barely knows what's going on himself. He'll keep looking into it. No point in raising alarms if it turns out to be nothing. Especially when Shai seems like the "punch first, ask questions later" type. That's a kind of bomb he's not looking to set off. At least not while he's the one liable to get punched. ]

[ Speaking of, when she offers sparring, Dean laughs about it, easy, arms dropping again to something more comfortable. ] Oh, I fight alright, when I have to. But that is not how I blow off steam. Not even close.

[ No offence intended, of course. She's hot and could kick his ass, and he does not want to piss her off, either by insulting how she spends her free time or by offering his, uh, less than upstanding alternatives. So he rushes to explain with a casual shrug to the words. ]

My job requires it. But I don't do the, uh... [ He lifts his hands, imitating the way she'd been standing. ] Zen and harmony kind of moves, like you. [ He drops the pose and relaxes again. ] It's not relaxing for me. Not like... other things. It's work.

[greyjane]

[That warrants an amused look - implying something, are we? - as she crosses over to sit on one of the nearby benches. Another drink of water is in order, and now that she's stopped moving it's either find something decent to eat or plug herself into a metaphorical light socket. She really hopes that Captain Barnes was exaggerating the lack of edible options.]

So how do you blow off steam?

[The 'zen and harmony' moves only work so well, after all. Her problem has always been that she loves a decent fight. There's a reason she's cultivated a sense of physical prowess when in reality she could end a fair amount of squabbles that come her way without lifting a finger. But it's hardly the only way to have a good time, and she's not one to begrudge anyone a distinct lack of desire to take their work home with them. Takes all sorts.]

And I've a personal question, if I may. Are you a soldier?

[familyremains]

The soldier questions's the personal one, huh?

[ He flirts back with a smile edging his lips because, yeah, you better believe Dean Winchester is implying something about ninety percent of the time. And since she doesn't seem to be going anywhere, he helps himself to a seat on the opposite end of the bench from her, turned in, legs spread wide and arms rested across his thighs, totally open and unguarded, meeting her eyes with nothing but honesty. ]

I'm a cop. [ He lies with the same kind of steady look, practiced daily for too many years. ] FBI. I'd flash the badge but seems like I left it on my home planet, along with everything else that could've been useful.

[ After half a second, he's turning that right around, because the last thing he ever really wants is to be talking about himself. ]

What about you? Yoga instructor?

[ He says it with a bright, cheeky kind of smile. The scars on her face would say otherwise, to start. But fighting to blow off steam? That some deep-seated anxiety. And fighting as part of the job doesn't mean soldier, but that's what she took from it, and called it personal. Seems pretty clear to him that she's military, or used to be. ]

[greyjane]

[Well, nice to see her instincts haven't dulled. She's been out of the fight for nigh on six months now, and she's starting to feel rusty in the daunting face of more inaction she's seen since she was in Evichta. So proof (or so she believes) to the contrary is enough to make her the tiniest bit smug. It manifests as nothing more overt than a faint throat-clearing cough.]

'Cop' is pretty universal language, but an 'FBI' badge would be lost on me, I'm afraid. Though I'm sure it's, ah-- [her look turns purposeful and her attention flickers briefly downward.] very impressive.

[Two can play that flirting game, after all. There's something to be said for a bit of fun.]

Adding to the things I'm ignorant of - whatever 'yoga' is. [Oh, she can infer. More martial arts, perhaps, but--] I'm a peacekeeper. Been one half my life. Travel to exotic locales, stop cackling supervillains with sundry superpowers-- you know, the works.

[Superpowers are exactly common as mud where she's from, but she's learned since being in these melting pot nexuses that it isn't always so. Better to ease into the whole thing. Last thing she wants is a repeat of sending some poor sod into a panic attack over what she can (and has) done.]

[familyremains]

[ Playing the cop card is always hit or miss. Everyone's got strong opinions about the policy, love them or hate them. Dean's just lucky he gets a smile out of her instead of a scowl. And after her downward cast eyes have flicked back up, he smiles back.

Doesn't know the FBI either, just like he figured. Between that, the karate and the yoga thing, she's an alien, alright. Or something close to it. He's trying not to make assumptions here but, come on. He's in space. If he doesn't meet a hot alien chick on this trip, he'll be surprised. ]

Supervillans? [ His eyebrows lift and he looks surprised. She's probably talking about people not all that different from the ghosts and demons he's tangled with, but you don't usually hear it put like that. He nods slow, looking impressed. ] Wow.

So that'd make you a superhero where you're from, huh? Gotta admit, you're different from how I pictured. You know, Lynda Carter. The whole spandex bathing suit, tiara, and whip get up...

[greyjane]

[Superheroes. It's funny, really, how much she inherently dislikes that word. No indication of it to speak of, she just laughs and shakes her head.]

No. Just a soldier. Though it depends on your classification. If 'powers' make the 'super', then yes. But, ah-- no spandex, leastwise as far as uniforms are concerned. [She may not know who Lynda Carter is, but at least she's trope savvy.] Or tiaras. Whips on the other hand, those are negotiable.

[She tilts her head to one side. So far he hasn't seemed spooked, but discretion, as they say. She doesn't believe in hiding her powers, but she's starting to dislike the common thread of this trend where she's feeling she has to tell people straight-off, or later risk their feeling lied to. Things are so much simpler with the Janes. She's never met a person who didn't already know her and what she can do. It's a strange dichotomy, and it's wreaked havoc on her sense of self. It's not like she hasn't used her powers for terrible things (electricity is an effective method of torture that leaves nearly no external marks, it's almost laughably easy to disrupt the sinoatrial node, the impulses in the brain) but she's always been careful to sanitize it when she mentions it to strangers. It's a hard thing, to feel like she should need or be looking for approval. She's damn-near thirty, whatever insecurities she's buried should bloody well know better by now.]

I'm an electrokinetic, by the by. Tell me now if you aren't a fan.

[familyremains]

[ Dean just can't help himself from commenting on that first part. She couldn't've given a better answer if she'd tried. ]

Hey, I don't blame you. I like whips better than tiaras myself.

[ The other thing... That gets his eyebrows to raise. He was just joking about the superhero thing, figured she was just like every other hunter he'd met. But she's seriously a superhero? With electric powers? Dean swallows. It reminds him of Raphael's wings and all the terrifying fury of an archangel. That and that time electricity fried his heart, and he nearly died. He's not a fan, not really. He likes her, though, so far. So he scrunches up his lips, shrugs and nods like it doesn't bother him. ]

Electric powers... You're the first I met. And so far, you seem alright by me.

[ It's not a lie, after all. And he can't resist the joke that comes right to mind. ]

Bet that makes for an interesting time in the bedroom.