driftfleet | Anonymous Text// Action: Wonderduck

Network

[In the spirit of keeping a low profile and capitalizing on the fact that most of the people of her world haven't seen her face, Phasma decides to break the network silence with an anonymous text post in order to attempt to gather intel.]

To what extent would you sacrifice securities for freedom?

Action

[Ever since her visit to the green planet before their departure, and her conversation with General Hux, she's been playing mute aboard her ship; observing, listening, using a minimalist pantomime where absolutely necessary. She doesn't trust her crew, she doesn't trust the ship, and she doesn't trust Atroma. The one person she does trust she's agreed not to contact unless in a guaranteed secure location, which isn't anywhere on the Fleet itself.]

[She keeps to herself, but if you're lucky you might catch her making a meal to take to her quarters (or the hanger, or wherever there is a quite, lonley spot). If she does happen to appear where there are people gathered, it's on the fringe, where she can quietly observe the conversation without feeling obligated to add to it.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Man she is so done with teenagers. She grabs his arm and yanks him forward, bringing his face inches from hers.]

I don't promote violence. I command it. It doesn't happen unless I want it to. Now. Where is the armory?

[ Well that escalated quickly. Isaac doesn't react in time to stop her, his chair falling backwards behind him. ]

Right, so should I ask your permission to punch you in the face, or do I have to fill out a form? Also we have a captain on this ship and you definitely don't look like that feathery asshole, so. Pretty sure you can't give orders.

[She holds tight. He can worry about his chair later.]

I am security so in manners of security I call the shots. [Whether or not that's actually true, that's how she's going to operate.] If you don't tell me where it is, I will be forced to find it, and I will start with your room.

[ Isaac snorts with laughter, even if he is getting pretty annoyed by this. ]

Uh, I'm security, too, and I've been here way longer than you, you know. So pretty sure that makes me more important. [ He doesn't resist her, not yet. ] Go ahead, search the place. Not like I have anything in there.

[ He's so cocky and has no shame. He smirks up at her. ]

Consider this a demotion. [Phasma doesn't care how long he's been here, this little whelp couldn't possibly have anything on her illustrious career.]

[She digs her fingers into his arm and starts to direct him out of the kitchen. She's getting pretty irritated with his attitude and he needs to learn some obediance if they're to make any progress here.]

We start in your room. We stop when I find the armory. You can either watch for however long that takes, or you can expedite the process and tell me where it is.

[ Isaac stumbles when she directs him out of the kitchen. It's not cool, that she thinks she can just drag him about. ]

A demotion, sure. Whatever you say. I'm not gonna tell you.

[ This woman is bad news, or that's the judgement he's made. There's a growl — almost canine in nature — before he yanks his arm out of her grip. The sound is quick, maybe they imagined it. ] You really shouldn't grab people, you know. I was eating.

[She chalks the growl up to disobedience, animalastic in the sense that he is untrained and lacking in most common etiquette]

And you may continue - when we are done.

[She attempts to grab him again, this time on the shoulder; somewhere she can gain a little more control.]

[ Isaac lets her grab him, but his expression has grown a little blank, his body a touch tense. ]

Right, so I'm just gonna need you to get your hands off me.

[ It's not the whiny, petulant teenage boy from before, but someone incredibly serious. ]

[She goes steely in response, her own surface agitation strengthening into an actual threat.]

[But there's something else, maybe a little gleam in her eye, something that normally no one else would have seen when she was in armor. You push someone enough, you get them in an actual combat situation, and that's when they become true soldiers. That's when you see their potential.]

Make. Me.

[ Isaac bristles, the challenge enough to raise his hackles and the sound he makes is not human at all. It's a low, rumbling growl, his eyes flashing amber momentarily. ]

Let. Go.

[ He hasn't been this angry in a long while, and raises a hand to her arm. She might feel the press of something sharp, and his nails are longer, pointed. ]

[Okay, that's not normal, and it irritates her down to her core that she's been shoved here with, not only kids, but non-human kids who are little more than stray animals.]

[She does let go, however it's with a quick twist to grab his own wrist. At the same time, she sweeps a leg out to hopefully upset his balance.]

[ Isaac has never been the most graceful or skilled fighter so he loses his balance, but grips her wrist in return, yanking hard to try and pull her down to the ground.

If he's going to take a fall, he can at least try to retaliate. ]

What's your problem?!

[She's skilled. She has to be. Everything her soldiers are meant to do, she needs to be able to show them how, either on the training room floor or out in battle by example. She allows herself to be tugged down with him, landing on her knees, one hand slamming into the ground next to his head, and uses the other to hold his arm against his chest and hopefully keep him pinned down.]

You. are my problem. I am not tolerant of arrogance and flippant verbal abuse, especially without the bite to back it up.

[ Isaac knows he can overpower her. He's thankful for the werewolf abilities in that regard. ]

You don't think I have enough bite? [ He snorts and his eyes turn full amber, a low snarl starting deep in his chest. His teeth lengthen, sharpen into a mouth of fangs. Isaac's ears turn to points and his face almost morphs before her.

He gives a hard shove, one that might be a touch too hard when dealing with a normal human, but he suspects she's used to fighting. He's not quiet when he does this, though, but he roars. ]

[She's effectively shoved off, and it's with a feeling of satisfaction. Phasma gathers herself casually, dusting off her uniform and tugging her cloak into place. He may think he's won the match, but she's gotten far more information that even she had bargained for.]

Go eat. I think I've seen enough for now.

Anonymous Text// Action: Wonderduck

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