(no subject)

[grandstanding]

Who: The Heron crew + visitors
Broadcast: nope
Action: The Heron
When: August

[As the ship drifts on, what are you up to this month, Herons?]

Comments

Charles Xavier | OTA

[axiomed]

[ a - locked to Erik and Winter ]

I think I've found something. You both might want to take a look at them too

[ b - action ]

[ Charles can mostly be found at the communication station, doing his work while learning the way the ship's machines work. Occasionally, he tries his hand at something different and lets the flow of information pass through him, teaching him new concepts.

His other usual haunt is the lab even though he lacks the augment for it. This time, instead of the plant samples, Charles is working on different metals, testing them against liquids and seeing how quickly they corrode or rust.

. . . Otherwise you can pass him by in his new floating chair as he grabs himself a cup of tea. ]

a

[grandstanding]

[Rather than ask questions over text, Erik simply traces Charles's chair, and heads to find him in the bridge.]

What is it?

[axiomed]

[ Charles grimly holds up a tiny device. ]

I found this. I don't know what it is, but it's definitely not a part of my console.

a;;

[reconstitution]

What did you find?

Re: a;;

[axiomed]

Some kind of device. I don't know how it got on here.

B

[aigue]

[The lab is the one place on the ship Renart hasn't really explored. For one, chemistry has never been her strong suit. Two, it smells weird. Finally, it's such a human area that it feels kind of awkward traipsing into it with her fox body.

Eventually she forces herself to suck it up and check it out. That there is someone else in there isn't ideal, but she can roll with it. She's trotting on in, her claws clacking on the floor, and she'll jump up onto a nearby chair to try and see what on earth he's doing.]

[axiomed]

[ He starts a little before relaxing. ]

Hello. One of our new crew, I take it.

Renart | OTA

[aigue]

A.

[Renart isn't the most sociable person, having been spending most of her time in her room or in the air vents in her fox body. The ones that she can fit into, anyway. They're like a little maze, so mapping them out is a good way to waste time, and there's the bonus of the space vermin to hunt down. It isn't nearly the same as hunting on that handholding planet, but when they're in the middle of space she'll take what she can get. Vermin is better than protein paste, after all, and she'd much rather do this than dwell on things like being away from certain people she happens to be madly in love with.

One afternoon she'll be wiggling her way out of one of the vents in to the main corridor of the ship, one of those vermin in her jaws. It's clearly dead, and she shakes herself off with a huff. One downside to the vents, they aren't the cleanest things. Her poor fur feels like a mess.]

B.

[Eventually she makes her way to the armoury, still in her fox body. The new gun knowledge in her mind hasn't gone unnoticed, but even though she finds guns rather distasteful she wants to see what the point of it is. Once she's in there she's knocking one of the guns onto the floor, sniffing at it curiously. It doesn't smell like a typical gun to her, which isn't all that surprising. Advanced technology and all, it's probably some kind of weird laser blaster straight out of a sci-fi movie.

Some more times passes and there will be a couple of parts scattered on the floor. It seems she's managed to start taking it apart, though who knows whether that's deliberate given her current lack of hands and the fact that she's chewing on the damn thing.]

B

[grandstanding]

[Erik's not sure what he expected to see out of the corner of his eye as he passed by the armory. A fox breaking a gun apart was not one of them. He's nearly past the doorway when he stops and backs up, giving Renart a thoroughly bewildered look.]

A fox?

[aigue]

[She'll stop what she's doing (thankfully, there aren't any actual bite marks on any of the gun parts) at the sound of his voice. It's rather funny to see someone baffled at her presence - she can only imagine how funny it must be to see a fox on a spaceship. She tilts her head slightly.]

Indeed.

a;;

[reconstitution]

[ It's been a few weeks, and he still has yet to run into their new crew member. That is, until she comes busting out of one of the vents. Bucky stops in his tracks, processing what the hell he's seeing for a moment. It's a fox. A fox that has apparently been catching the space vermin.

Good on her, he guesses. But where the hell did a fox even come from? A drastic difference from the arctic foxes that populate the fleet. ]

Are you lost?

[aigue]

[She hasn't exactly been the most sociable crew member. The sight of a new person however has her guarded, and after she shakes herself off she stares up at him plainly. After a moment she sets the dead animal down so that she can answer.]

No. I was hungry.

[She'll at least hold off from devouring the vermin right there, she knows people find that kind of thing gross.]

A

[astrobleme]

[Shinji is a little more perceptive than most people, if only because he's incredibly paranoid. That's why he's brandishing a broom like a talisman when Renart emerges from the vents; he looks like he's in the middle of hunting a vampire. His eyes are so wide when he finally sees what's causing the disturbance: A fox? In here? Not what he was expecting.

Mostly to himself, he says,] Mm, I guess that's just somebody's pet...

Hux | ota

[therewillbeorder]

[His life had seemed to have gone from one extreme to another within the last couple of months. He went from being constantly on his feet managing Finalizer and Starkiller while trying to finish a superweapon to dismantle a corrupt regime, handling working with Kylo Ren, and maintaining his standing in the First Order to suddenly having more free time than he had ever had in his entire life.

No demands, few interruptions. It was disorienting getting more than a few hours of rest each night.

To save what remained of his sanity he decided to stick to a somewhat regular routine if he could. Running on the treadmill in the cargo bay in the morning before breakfast, working on the weapon's system on the bridge until evening with his datapad.

If he thinks he's alone he'll even put on a saved HoloNet recordings from Coruscant of news reports from the New Republic or perhaps even classical Coruscanti music, if you're lucky, just so he could have some background noise while he worked or waited for the coffee to brew. He wasn't used to it being so quiet all the time.]

[aigue]

[It's the smell of coffee that draws Renart out of her room. Being more comfortable in her fox body, unfortunately, means that she doesn't exactly have the digits to operate any of the appliances in the kitchen, which so far has meant a severe lack of knowledge in the area of "food and beverages available on the ship" so the smell of coffee is both surprising and welcoming. She hasn't had it in over a year, so that's enough motivation to get her trotting down the main hallway, her claws clacking on the floor.

The music is a very nice touch too, even if she isn't familiar with the artist.

She stops directly behind Hux]

I hope you're making enough to share with the rest of the ship.

[axiomed]

[ Charles only gives Hux a passing glance as he makes his way to his equipment. Winter and Erik had spoken to him about Hux and while Charles was curious, he had little interest in questioning the two people he trusted. The handlebars were placed lower for his needs. He starts by gripping the bars and pulling his body up. ]

[reconstitution]

[ It hasn't been too long since they left the planet, but it feels like much longer. The stagnation of drifting through space makes time drag. It's hard to get back into a solid routine after the freedom the planets offer.

Winter is on his way to the kitchen, journal and pen in hand when he hears the music. It's soft, but as he gets closer, the melody is more discernible. He moves quietly into the kitchen. If Hux hasn't had an encounter with how creepy and silent the captain can sneak and settle into rooms, he's about to.

If he can get away with sitting down before he's caught, all the better. ]

The music is nice. What is it?

[grandstanding]

[After the conversation with the anonymous texter on the network, Erik waited. It's a mode he's well-used to, though one he hasn't used in many years. How often, in years gone by, had he picked over the trails of his targets and laid in wait until the right moment? This was not nearly the same thing, and part of waiting had been to ensure he had the clarity to remember that. His initial surge of fury had been tempered.

He had paid attention to Hux's movements idly after they arrived in this system, as Erik had been in and out of the Heron himself. Now, that information was ready to be used. He seats himself on a box in the cargo bay in the early dark hours of the morning, and he waits for Hux to show up.

He knew patience had its rewards.]

Erik Lehnsherr | OTA

[grandstanding]

drift week

[Erik is always restless during the drifting periods, and his behaviour on the Heron changes to match. While not as tense as he had been last time, he slips into particular habits as a matter of course. For an hour every afternoon, he sits in the bridge and molds loose scraps of metal into various shapes in his hands. Sometimes he leaves these on the array for anyone who wants them, miniature rabbits and wolves, or more abstract geometric shapes.

Otherwise, he makes full use of the fresh food he'd stockpiled on the planet, and inhabits the kitchen. He can often be found cooking or baking, and he's stored a number of ceramic jars in the cupboards with supplies of nuts and dried fruit. Anything perishable he works to cook into something more hardy, like soup.

Or, wild card it!]

kitchen;;

[reconstitution]

[ If he were more talented in the kitchen, it's possible that Bucky would inhabit it more than he does. As it happens, he still only pops in when he needs to refill his coffee or grab some food. Probably best to ease himself back into being around constantly for those still wrong-footed by the whole Iskaulit situation.

Whatever Erik is working on smells great, and it's pretty nice to hear the common area being put to good use. He slides into the kitchen, empty mug in hand. ]

What are you making?

Ethan Travers | OTA

[syntech]

[A. And I live through the things I create]

[The state of the Heron has changed. Not so much that any outsider would really notice, and maybe not even so much that the crew as a whole does, much. Little improvements to their ship systems? Well... nothing major, if anything. There's a couple of text files for easy perusal on how to use the encryption software at its most effective, plus some notes - presumably unimplemented - on how to upgrade the efficiency of the scanning arrays.

What's really different, honestly, is that there's a room that's... well. To call it cluttered would be fairly generous. For a small Communications officer's room, it's absolutely filled with Things. Scraps of paper are common, piled on desks, taped to walls, each written over with miles of nigh-unreadable chicken-scratch handwriting - or musical composition. Weird. Bits and pieces of material, from wire to component boxes to metal sheets, seem to fill the rest of the space.

Somehow, despite all of this, there's a clear path to each location - and there's a strange sense of order to the piles. Almost like they're partitioned in specific sectors. Fox - Ethan, as the ship log calls him - can often be found in here, working fruitlessly on alien technology he can't seem to get working or tapping at a seemingly transparent computer.]

[B. What's important in life are the things we lack]

[The medical bay has seen its fair share of Ethan. He stops by almost daily, whether lab support is available at that time or not, to check and re-check supplies. His illness hasn't given him too much trouble here, presumably as a result of some perceived need to have ~quality entertainment~. Still, habits are hard to break. So if you see someone looking a little like a ghost wandering in and out of the lab, please don't be afraid, friend!]

[C. Wherever we are, what's the difference?]

[General wildcard! Fox can be found wandering the ship, fiddling with the communication equipment or scanner arrays, or generally anywhere tbh.]

September thing, after the fox park incident

[aigue]

[So the fox park is stressful for a multitude of depressing reasons.

That incident has been weighing in Renart's mind as she headed back to the Heron, switching to her human form. She doesn't feel bad for what she did, oh no. She saw the network post about it and proceeded to ignore that, because anyone who thinks she shouldn't be communicating to other foxes in the way foxes communicate to each other is a fool. It's silly how warped that woman's viewpoint of the whole situation is.

There's the whole matter of those foxes being domesticated and shoved into that 'park', too. It's left her a bundle of nerves, and she's decided to curl up in her room and obsessively brush her tail - her usual go-to when she's stressed - to calm down.]

[reconstitution]

[ Bucky lets Renart have some time to herself to cool off before interrupting. Of course he's been watching for her- especially after Wrath's broadcast and her messages after. This is the easier situation to resolve, at least..

He knocks on her door some time later. ]

Renart, can we talk?

[poisoninmypocket]

[Monty arrives after finding Wrath's message and trying to mitigate... then threatening the woman. Renart really is far too much trouble.]

Renart?

[He raps on the hatch to her room before just pulling it up and climbing down. The gentleman sighs when he sees her.]

You've had an eventful day. May I?

[He gestures to her tail and the bed as one as a request to sit. Some of the irritation at her has died down on seeing her like that, at least.]

Some time later....

[unbearablynaive]

[After he's had a chance to look at the situation from all points of view he has access to, the Vision makes his way over to the Heron to see if he can mediate the dispute a bit. He's aware it may not have any effect, but the least he can do is try.

He moves quietly and if her senses are still sharp in this form, he smells unlike a human - as much metal as flesh and blood, and the yellow gem set into his forehead is unlike anything else. When he speaks, it's with a cultured British accent.]

Excuse me. I'm looking for Renart?