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driftfleet2016-01-26 01:48 am
greyjane) wrote in driftfleet2016-01-26 01:48 am
Entry tags:
video | action
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.
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.
no subject
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.
no subject
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?
no subject
[ 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. ]
no subject
'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.]
no subject
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...
no subject
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.
no subject
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.