Let the games begin!

[thespaceopera]

[several days late, as has been the trend lately, the Shuffle's transmission plays for the Fleet.

...or, it tries anyway. the music doesn't even make it--just a punch of static with sad, scattered pieces of musical notes trying to struggle their way through.

when Diamond's voice is finally heard, it's only intelligible in three little bites.]

--Three disappearing from-- ... --new faces, so-- ... --Captain Halliwell--...

[and then the music blends strangely with other sounds, like someone flipping idly through broken radio stations. it takes some time for anything to come in clear, and every frequency turns up the same interference. it isn't until several minutes later that one signal suddenly stutters into clarity, and music begins to play.

wherever you are, they are playing your song! and if there are multiple people in the room, maybe the speakers nearest to each person are playing different songs, each specific to the closest passenger. and after the signal connects, the speakers will continue to play whatever song they started with, even if different passengers move toward or away from them, and will only play something else when the controls are messed around with. and the signals and machinery will continue to behave in this way sporadically, all through the month.]

ooc: the musical madness has begun! feel free to use this post as a mingle for interactions relating to shuffle day and the ensuing musical chaos. if you have any questions, please post them to the January ooc post!

→ Shuffle ooc post
→ January system ooc post

Comments

[aberrant_type]

[She moves like a coiled-up thing herself, the reflexive controlled motion of the career soldier caught slightly off guard. Brown eyes cut at him for a second and then after a moment she sort of smiles. It's a reserved expression in and of itself, betraying nothing, more meant to show that he's not offending her by stumbling in... not that she expects he'd care if he did.]

Problem?

[mortalcoil]

[he's not put at all at ease by that expression, so his own anxiety remains ratcheted one or two notches too high. he glances back at the doorway, listens to make sure the music hasn't followed him in here.

and then he puts an intent glance back on her, and then to the nearest speaker. he points at it--questioning but kind of vague and alarmed about it. he just wants to know what's going on.]

[aberrant_type]

Did you hear this or something else?

[He's not going to be able to answer that question unless he signs it. She sighs shortly, through the nose.]

Hold up one finger for this, two for something else.

[mortalcoil]

[he sighs too, but he'll put up with the extra hoops for the sake of not having to come up for some other gesture to make up for it.

two fingers up.]

[aberrant_type]

[Her eyebrows rise. And it seems to have unsettled him too. How interesting.]

Everyone gets music, I suppose.

[She's here talking to Coil and looking at him but not really looking at him. Clearly, wherever this music has taken Hange, it's somewhere far from their cramped little ship.]

[mortalcoil]

[and, really, that is the way he prefers her. he's most comfortable around her when she's aimed somewhere else.

and he'd love to leave her that way, but he eventually points at where a music-box melody is plinking away from, and then points at her?]

[aberrant_type]

[She settled almost immediately back into distant silence, pulling at her lower lip thoughtfully and only watching him out of the corner of her eye.]

Mmhmmm...

[And then she straightens up. Curiosity strikes her suddenly and she makes for the room Coil just left. Maybe something different is playing on the speakers there...]

[mortalcoil]

[--and Coil abruptly panics.

all of that quietly-simmering anxiety snaps when she suddenly moves in the direction of what he'd been so eager to leave. and he realizes that he'd left it still playing.

so, with an audible gasp, he leaps to life and makes a desperate lunge for the same corridor, trying to basically tackle his way bodily into reaching it before she does.]

[aberrant_type]

[Oh, so he doesn't like that, huh? She changes tack and lunges for him instead.]

[mortalcoil]

[he's far more concerned about getting to the other room before she does, so she's got a clean shot to tackle and bounce him into the wall.]

[aberrant_type]

[That's exactly what'll happen. She'll take one handful of his hair and wrench one arm up behind his back if she possibly can.]

[mortalcoil]

[he huffs through his teeth, annoyed with himself that he let her corner him so easily. he really hadn't been expecting it. this whole thing has caught him off guard, and that's just stupid.

with one arm twisted back, he's pretty stuck. but he's still going to kick back at her like a pissed-off mule.]

[aberrant_type]

[Fine. She shoves him forward to bang his head against the wall.]

[mortalcoil]

[that really should get it through to him that he should stop fighting. and he almost considers it. there's a flicker of pause.

but whatever gets knocked down when his skull bangs against metal, it rebounds up with twice the force. it picks up a few things on the way. there's maybe more weight than there should be in the way that he throws himself away from the wall, trying to twist around so he can face her--wrenched arm or not.]

[aberrant_type]

[She grunts, irritated and getting moreso. She'll try and bang him on the wall again, then. Stop - being - a little - shit.]

[mortalcoil]

[she's apparently going to have to try harder, because getting knocked around isn't calming him down. he's too used to it. he's too angry. he's too full of things that he can't use words to get out of his head. and trying to protect something from his old life--a longstanding vow that has never gone away--is just the excuse needed to throw him into a blind rage.

so, instead of twisting around in place, his tactics suddenly change. letting himself be smashed against the wall again for a second, he uses the pressure to try and drag his legs up between himself and the wall. it's leverage that he'll probably use to become twice as problematic if he's allowed to have it.]

[aberrant_type]

[Oop she can feel that. Twisting a hand in his hair and pulling his head back hard, she scrambles to get out of range and at least remove him from - most of the gain he'd get with that leverage. A woman with her share of barhouse brawls and drag-out alley fights in her life.]

Stop being - such a child, you brat.

[mortalcoil]

[he kicks at the wall as he's suddenly dragged away from it, but it's a last-ditch attempt that mostly just serves to jostle them both around.

he would love to flip her over his hip, but her center of gravity is too low. she's in a terrible place for it. he can't even slam her back into the opposite wall--it's little more than a really aggravating, forceful shove when he tries. there just isn't enough room for anything useful.]

[aberrant_type]

[She makes a low, satisfied sort of snarl in the back of her throat. All right. Doing good here, doing fine. She will turn around so Coil is going backwards and start trying to back both of them into the room he just left.]

[mortalcoil]

[well that is a more troublesome direction to be dragged in. he can't really dig his heels, and throwing himself to either side doesn't do anything but knock them both into the walls.

he's huffing and panting, struggling without using voice, and almost seems like he's starting to tire for a minute there. ...though, in reality, it's more of lull so that he can listen.

and sure enough, he can start to catch the faint strains of a deep, dark chant. something low and ancient... and abominable.

it's the kind of thing that itches at the brain in some wrong way before it even becomes clear. and it's something that is going to throw him into redoubling his fight--this time throwing his weight in the direction she's pulling. it's something that might knock both of them over backward if she's not ready for it.]

[aberrant_type]

[That... is very interesting. And she pauses, letting it thread into her brain...

... until Coil's weird violent backward lunge knocks them both onto their asses. Thanks, kid, the butt pain just never stops, does it?

She's working very hard to keep a grip on him though. Ugh if he smashes his head back against hers that's gonna leave a mark. She lets go of his hair but quick and tries to hook her arm around his throat instead, pressing -]

[mortalcoil]

[that's a good catch, because headbutting her is undoubtedly what was next in his to-do list. so, instead he's got an arm at his throat to worry about.

and he has throttled enough people--it's his specialty, actually--that he at least manages to dart a hand up to wedge between her arm and his throat. whether she was actually planning on choking him out or interrupting the blood vessels feeding his brain or not, he's reflexively prepared for it anyway. he can't pull her arm away, but he can at least block.

which means all he really has at his disposal now is kicking and trying to twist away, if she doesn't get him properly pinned.]

[aberrant_type]

[Clever, clever boy, she was going to try and throttling him unconscious, but he's stymied that. What a pain.

This is all terribly undignified. Oh-kay. Time to flip them over. Hange grunts. They're quite cozy, he can probably feel muscles bunching - and then she levers a leg and surges to roll them over. Fucking pain in the ass teenager.]

[mortalcoil]

[he twists one way to try and flip around... and she just rolls right with the motion until his feet are slipping on the metal floor and he's flattened over on his stomach before he can catch it.

like an angry snake, breath is hissed out of him through his teeth. he still struggles, squirming despite how badly his arm is really starting to hurt... but he's stuck.]

[aberrant_type]

[Good. She grabs a handful of his hair again and pins it against the floor. Don't move. Her fingers flex on his arm as she resettles her grip - her grip strength is really something else - and then she wrenches his arm, harder. Don't move.

And then she takes a moment to breathe, settling her weight in on him. She thinks she has him, but who knows what slippery tricks this little guy will pull out? Jeez. If his mom raised him to be a pain in the ass, she did a good job.

Another deep breath. Fighting with Coil - scrabbling around like trainees, really - did a little something to clear her head. She needs to get a grip on her temper.]

... Good job, kiddo, you broke my streak. I don't think I've beaten up a kid your age since I was your age.