one ; he's a transponster!

[yourdistraction]

Who: Merrill & Fenris
Broadcast: {video} Fleet-Wide
Action: Anywhere on the Marsiva (they may split up we'll see).
When: January 14th

{VIDEO} ;

[ The video switches on to reveal— well okay it's an arm, covered in leather, chainmail and white fur, but only because the communicator's taking a moment to get pulled back, and only because there's more than one person trying to use it.

Or more than one elf, with pointed ears and both faces intricately covered in tattoos as the biggest clue. Merrill's markings are as dark as her short, braided hair and Fenris's are as light as his (there might even be a glow). Contrarily, perhaps, she looks much more cheerful in her greeting, but there is still a level of heightened stress to her tone. ]

Yes, hello! It seems we landed in the wrong time. World, actually! Now you promised, since the war's over. Can we speak to somebody in the Initiative? Where are our— Um—

[Merrill doesn't get to finish her sentence, as Fenris wrests control of the communicator from her. He looks decidedly less friendly, in fact, he looks just about ready to punch someone in the face. Hard.]

Our weapons. They are missing. [He jabs an annoyed thumb in Merrill's direction, whose irritated sigh can be heard off-camera.] I understand she likely disrupted the transporter. Just open up another one and send us back to Kirkwall. Now. I have no intention of staying on your blighted moon again. [A pause, a disdainful look around.] Or wherever this is...

[Actually, this looks distinctly non-Initiative. And it's definitely not United Earth, either, he remembers their holding pens, and this is not them. Where the heck ARE they? He doesn't have long to ponder or even let someone answer before there's another sound from Merrill off-camera; a gasp.]

There's something on you! Hold still.

What? What is- NO! Don't you touch me. [He may tolerate you existing in his life now, Merrill, but that doesn't mean you're allowed to touch him with your magey hands. He turns around a couple of times, trying to find...whatever it is on him, his hands tapping around his back until...oh he has a thing on his neck. WHY DOES HE HAVE A THING ON HIS NECK??

His fingers close on it, and he tries to yank it off. If you ever wondered what would happen if you tried to take your Augment off, wonder no more. Fenris gives a pained, frightened yelp, then curls into a horrible, shuddering ball on the floor, muttering horribly in Tevene. He's somewhere in the horrible recesses of his own broken mind right now, don't mind him.

Off-camera: ]

All right, I won't touch you.

Comments

[wolfuncaged]

No. The spawn of a demon.

[He doesn't even know how that works, and he doesn't CARE. He just knows it's BAD.]

[misconceived]

Also the child of a human. We aren't even close to your kind of demons, anyway. They're different things entirely.

[wolfuncaged]

The demon part is enough. Where I come from, you would be considered an abomination, a being who would ultimately be a threat to everyone around it.

[misconceived]

We're in space. We're in space where every rule we know is in question, and you want to kill first and ask questions later despite the fact that us just being here says something is weird and different, and you might want to check that out first!

Look. Whatever. Leave my dad alone.

[wolfuncaged]

No. I will not be lulled by a false sense of security, and I will not make any promises not to harm a danger to everyone here. He had best watch his step, once we find ourselves safely on a planet.

[misconceived]

In that case, you'd better watch yours, too.

[wolfuncaged]

[That elicits a harsh noise of contempt.]

I never stop.