Kurt Darkholme (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ecclesiophobic) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
driftfleet2016-03-04 05:06 pm
ecclesiophobic) wrote in driftfleet2016-03-04 05:06 pm
Entry tags:
eins (video/action)
Who: Darkholme and whomsoever dares.
Broadcast: Fleet-wide
Action: Marsiva
When: March 4th
Broadcast (can also be an action option for anyone close enough to hear the racket):
[The communicator comes online in the middle of clattering to the floor, bouncing and skidding until it ends up wedged against something that props it at an odd angle. Most of what it shows is a bland view of the ceiling, though the audio of a heavily-accented German voice grumbling is clear as a bell.]
Goddammit, what part of let me d--what the? [There' s a loud implosion of air, with a similar bamf sound echoing further away. The voice mutters something, words indistinct but tone harsh. The clarity increases with the volume as the owner of the voice begins to swear emphatically, lapsing halfway through into truly inventive German, punctuated by the sounds of clattering and movement. Someone just realized his swords are missing.]
Action:
[Sometime after he's calmed down (and hopefully found the communicator/been given a heads-up on the situation, Kurt temporarily gives up on retrieving his swords and goes exploring his temporary home. Feeling vulnerable without his weapons and with a distinct lack of shadows to blend in to, he opts to scurry along the ceiling on fours in lieu of using the floor like a normal person. It also lets him inspect the ceiling for visible cameras, ventilation shafts, wiring, or anything to give him information about their captors' technology level.
Occasionally he stops near one of the huge windows, the view catching his attention even after he's given up on recognizing any of the stars. Kurt's been in space before, but never for long and always too busy fighting to get a good look at the sky. His own world is so polluted with the aftermath of two wars that the stars are hazy--and that's on the clear nights. It's not a good time to catch him on the floor, but it is a good one to catch his attention without interrupting anything.]
Broadcast: Fleet-wide
Action: Marsiva
When: March 4th
Broadcast (can also be an action option for anyone close enough to hear the racket):
[The communicator comes online in the middle of clattering to the floor, bouncing and skidding until it ends up wedged against something that props it at an odd angle. Most of what it shows is a bland view of the ceiling, though the audio of a heavily-accented German voice grumbling is clear as a bell.]
Goddammit, what part of let me d--what the? [There' s a loud implosion of air, with a similar bamf sound echoing further away. The voice mutters something, words indistinct but tone harsh. The clarity increases with the volume as the owner of the voice begins to swear emphatically, lapsing halfway through into truly inventive German, punctuated by the sounds of clattering and movement. Someone just realized his swords are missing.]
Action:
[Sometime after he's calmed down (and hopefully found the communicator/been given a heads-up on the situation, Kurt temporarily gives up on retrieving his swords and goes exploring his temporary home. Feeling vulnerable without his weapons and with a distinct lack of shadows to blend in to, he opts to scurry along the ceiling on fours in lieu of using the floor like a normal person. It also lets him inspect the ceiling for visible cameras, ventilation shafts, wiring, or anything to give him information about their captors' technology level.
Occasionally he stops near one of the huge windows, the view catching his attention even after he's given up on recognizing any of the stars. Kurt's been in space before, but never for long and always too busy fighting to get a good look at the sky. His own world is so polluted with the aftermath of two wars that the stars are hazy--and that's on the clear nights. It's not a good time to catch him on the floor, but it is a good one to catch his attention without interrupting anything.]
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The man had said the two of them were settled there at the end, right before--before he should have died sealing his own universe off. But men say things in the heat of battle they don't mean, and he's already met people from different points in time. If this one is still clamoring for his blood, how the hell is he going to defend himself without his swords?]
I've told you not to call me elf. It's effeminate.
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First I've heard of it. That rule out fuzzball too?
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Said asshole is still, staring at Logan through the video feed with the faint twitches around his eyes that mean he's looking a person up and down, examining them for something. In Kurt's case, looking in vain for signs that Logan's being craftier than he normally is, trying to lure him into a false sense of security. He answers after a pause, voice and words cautious.] Call me devil, if you can't bring yourself to use my name. Most people do.
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[The day his Kurt insisted on being called Devil would be a cold day in hell.]
So, what's your story, Kurt? You sure as hell ain't the one I've been kickin' 'round with.
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[So many loaded questions. He's really very thankful to have had the early influence of his mother, elsewise he suspects his furry hide would be nailed to the wall on day one.] You've met Kitty, ja? Short hair, set of claws like yours, mentioned you to me? My story is very similar to hers; we're from the same world.
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Didn't sound like a great place. Apocalypse is a bastard to deal with.
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[... not that he is offended. He wouldn't take the time to spit on Apocalypse if he happened to pass him by while the bastard was dying in a ditch. Some other version of him is even further away from his concern.]
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[Maybe it bothered him that this Kurt did not have the same respect for life that his Kurt did. But he could separate the two in his mind. After all - he still had his best friend waiting for him.]
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he were Cyclopslooks could kill, the one he shoots Logan through the camera would wither.Kurt draws in a breath, then abruptly looks away. Whatever's caught his attention doesn't last long, although the bulk of his sudden alertness remains when he turns his attention to the communicator. It shifts in his hands as he fiddles, then suddenly the video switches to private.] How many of the others have you met.. Logan? [Nine months in another world and he still struggles not to call the man Weapon X.]
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But as to the question...]
You talking about here? Of the X-Men, most of 'em. Avengers are a quiet lot around here.
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[Well... the other Kurt he might. But it was clear that Rogue and Remy had their share of experiences, even if they were a little greener than the ones he knew.]
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[So he doesn't know about Erik. Kurt considers for a minute mentioning a fourth variation of the theme, then decides to keep that knowledge in his back pocket. The man did introduce himself publicly as Blade, he can always claim ignorance later.] Do you know the span of years the three of you are scattered around?
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[Which was annoying, but hell, he went years without any memories so it wasn't so strange having some of the team having lived through a few things he hadn't yet.]
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Kurt has the insane urge to warn him. Instead he wraps his tail around the communicator and holds it away from himself, angling it to get a good shot of the black and white X-Force uniform.] Must be frustrating. So I don't suppose this uniform means a damn thing to you, then?
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Means you'll be wanting a change of clothes. The Atroma weren't decent enough to snatch me up when I was in uniform.
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Wish they'd been decent enough to grab my uniform. This is the ugliest fucking thing I've ever seen.
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