Merrill (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
yourdistraction) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
driftfleet2015-01-14 11:54 am
yourdistraction) wrote in driftfleet2015-01-14 11:54 am
one ; he's a transponster!
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.
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.
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