forum Mechanists: Attempt Two

Started July 25, 2019 by @Mr.Misfit

tune

Zav nodded. "Yeah." He said, tapping his fingers on his leg. "Although I do have one question. Where am I sleeping?" He hoped he wasn't sharing a room, as he had a tendency to shape shift in his sleep, which would be very disconcerting for a roommate to see.

Brella pointed to the back of the cockpit to the two doors, “Pick one. Two beds in each. I typically sleep in the workshop, so don’t worry about me pokin’ on ya.”

With practiced fingers—a miracle considering this was her third time on the ship—Brella started the engines and ran a simple systems check. Electrical, fuel grade, shields and armor checks, all green. Beautiful.

Scarlet was by no means a hand-me-down. Loaded with the signature Mechanist workshop deck and typical curved Lovuthan style, she was the gift all Lovuthans got. It was immaculately clean, organized, and well built. To protect it were two 3690 Nata shield cores, as well as a Lovuthan Laser Spear Cannon, both able to be overcharged by a Lovuthan’s Tis’Sindri energy.

Brella sat down and continued to play with her controls settings while the crew got settled.

Zav sighed softly, and set his jacket on a bed to claim it as his spot. Oh well. He would have to hope that the other crew members weren't too prejudiced against the Sha'liss. After all, someone would be sharing a room with him. And he hoped that nothing of theirs went missing, because if something went missing aboard a ship, and there was a Sha'liss aboard…the Sha'liss were always the automatic suspect.

Easing the ship out of dock was easy enough. Without a single word of warning, Brella unlocked her docking clasps and eased the ship forward through the airlock. The massive titanium doors closed behind the ship, and with a loud hiss all the air in that space was vented back into the station’s systems. Tho outer station doors then opened, and Brella eased the ship out.

Zav was silent, watching out one of the windows as the ship began to maneuver it's way out. He raked a hand through his hair, and shifted slightly, his skin turning a rippling shade of blue, before going back to his normal skin tone.

(Ain't there like…two more ppl in this RP?)

Robin sat in her seat lazily playing with her wings as she took out a small golden box. she opend the top and music from her homeland started playing. she folded her wings and closed he eyes, letting the soft notes drift through the air and calm her nerves. a couple minutes later, the music stopped and she opened her eyes, closing the box and putting it away. "I apologize for playing this without consulting with you, but it is tradition in my land to play this song when starting a journey. The ancient music translates to a spell of safety when properly played." she said a little sheepishly

Shay jolted awake as the ship moved under him. Blinking wearily, he gazed about his bunk wondering where the hell he was. He groaned as he stood, stretching his cramped muscles until they were loose and relaxed. Although relaxed now, he couldn't ignore the half empty, clear bottle of bright purple liquid that tumbled out of his bed onto the floor. "Ah– Korli!" He said happily, naming the drink. "No wonder last night is so foggy." The ship gave another little shiver under his feet and that further jogged his memory. "Cata!" He cursed in his mother tongue, bolting out the door towards the cockpit. He really, really hoped that no one noticed his absence.
Coming up to the door, he carefully–and silently– arranged himself into a casual position, as if he had been there the entire time and didn't look half rumpled and smelled vaguely of the alcoholic beverage that sent him into a void after one drink. Those Sameenians sure knew how to brew a dangerous drink. "Off so soon?" He rasped into the silence.

“Shay!” Brella exclaimed happily, “I figured you were around here somewhere!”

Typing as quick as possible Brella plotted a course to the research station and wheeled about in her chair, “And I was just about to reach for some whiskey to accompany the music. Speaking of drinks, how’s that hangover?”

Zav was silent, drumming his fingers a bit. He glanced at Shay for a moment, then back out the windows. He ran a hand through his hair again. Music… He could still hear in his mind the wild, strange music of his people.

Shay simultaneously squinted against the light of the room and arched an eyebrow. "Who ever said I was drunk?" He asked casually, not making eye contact with anyone, instead taking the moment to look down at his hands. He wasn't ashamed in the slightest, his people never bothered with such self destructive feelings, but he'd rather not have the entire crew think that he was a laze about.

“That bottle sittin’ by your bedside. Real good story teller, and loud too. I heard it from here.”

Brella reached under the controls and snagged a shot glass and her whiskey, holding out the glass to the crew, “No more than five shots of this size a day, unless we’re in port. That goes for everyone.”

Pouring herself a shot for good cheer, she set the ship on auto, getting it up to speed for a warp-punch. She sighed happily and waved the shot around, “Tighten in, we’ll punch here in about 30 seconds.”

(A warp punch is the sudden shot into hyper-existence/speed.)

Zav chuckled softly, and put on his seatbelt, stretching for a moment. He wondered if and when the other two crewmen would comment on his race. Or look at him askance, narrow their eyes, clutch belongings closer. He sighed softly, drumming his fingers on his pant leg.

20, 19, 18, 17…
Brella threw back the shot and and laughed before buckling up. She looked over her shoulder at her crew. A fighter, a tech, and a tiger.

Tack on the butterfly, and you've got the beginnings of a bad joke and a helluva ride, Brella thought with a smile, We're gonna make a difference. Straighten up.

12, 11, 10…

Shay said nothing, but the grin that appeared across his lips promised a bit more than innocent mayhem. His people were nomadic warriors, yes, but that didn't mean that you couldn't have a little fun along the way. And something was telling him that this little trip wasn't going to go exactly as anyone had planned.
He buckled himself into his chair with practiced ease, excitement beginning to course through his blood. He was ready.

9, 8, 7…
Her sister’s voice rang in her ears. Be the best, She had said, You’re already the best sister. Now be the best Mechanist.

Little Eliziethara, I will. I’ll be the best Mechanist, and you’ll be right there beside me, soon enough.

Brella closed her eyes and continued counting in her head.

6, 5, 4…

Zav was silent, watching and waiting. He had done these before, of course he had. Just not…from the cockpit. Usually from the belly of the ship, pressed against the wall because no one wanted to give a seat to a Sha'liss.

The Calgrien was silent as well, although his eyes were fixed on the stars outside the ship. His fingers flexed once and then twice as the countdown reached it's completion and his lips stretched into a wider grin over his fangs. "Here we go!" He crowed.

"Three! Two! One! Punching!"

The world went white. The chairs of the cockpit locked down automatically as Brella and her crewmates were hard-pressed into them. With the small console on the armrest Brella reduced the speed a bit, and maintained the field of warp.

Eventually the white began to gain streaks of color, and the crash-seats released the crewmates, allowing them all to rise up and stretch.

Brella began to laugh quietly to herself as she turned towards the pole connecting the workshop deck to the cockpit.

Zav made a face. He wasn't used to being in a chair for the punch. He was used to being huddled down in a room, pressed against the wall. He sighed softly. Oh well. He'd have to get used to this crew being different. He glanced around at the group, stretching lazily with a soft yawn.