Bad Reputation [Closed] - Printable Version
+- alonimi (https://alonimi.net)
+-- Forum: Archives (https://alonimi.net/forumdisplay.php?fid=72)
+--- Forum: Incomplete (https://alonimi.net/forumdisplay.php?fid=85)
+--- Thread: Bad Reputation [Closed] (/showthread.php?tid=590)
+- alonimi (https://alonimi.net)
+-- Forum: Archives (https://alonimi.net/forumdisplay.php?fid=72)
+--- Forum: Incomplete (https://alonimi.net/forumdisplay.php?fid=85)
+--- Thread: Bad Reputation [Closed] (/showthread.php?tid=590)
Bad Reputation [Closed] - danixiewrites - 05-14-2015
Landing flat on one's back on the ass-end of Osiris was not a stealthy way to avoid bounty hunters and corporate goons. At all. It also hurt. Like, can't breathe, and I think I maybe just died except PAIN, hurt. But probably the worst thing about it--beyond breathing, which was already a nuisance given the incongruous black catsuit she'd stolen from someone with smaller boobs and a bigger ass--was that moment of pause where anyone on the station could have grabbed Sascha by the foot and hauled her unwilling yet helpless would-be corpse wherever they wanted.Bounty hunters could give a drek about her hair, too, black and brown curls likely picking up everything the wasted spaces this underbelly had to offer.
"Fraggin' son of a grkk--" Sascha gasped when she managed to suck in air again and flail her limbs at her assailant, only to find said air cut off and the blinding room around her partially blocked by whoever was jamming their bony kneecap into her throat. She subsided, breathing shallowly even as brown eyes cracked by shards of emerald were wide, scanning, adjusting to the room. "The minute you turn me in," she rasped carefully at the woman overhead, "they will kill you. You won't see a cred, and you sure as fraggin' all won't see them coming."
--
Fate, for his part, was so utterly relieved to hear Sass's exclamation filter in past the other woman's tech that he almost--almost--forgot they were far from out of the woods. Because now, both women were trapped somewhere he couldn't reach, and there were still bounty hunters combing the area. At least the latter, now that he knew what the situation truly was, was something he address. Sass would be seen in every nook and cranny. Stars, to get around the need for augmented viewers, he could put up a bid for a costume contest. She'd have disappeared in a sea of lookalikes.
He put the digital flyer up before he considered some of the bounty hunters might be in a killing mood. But then, the ones who typically tailed after Sass wouldn't settle nor bother with killing an imposter so. Surely. It'd be fine.
The former...well. Just to be certain, he sent a trickle of code into the ether, searching for signals to hijack.
"Thank you," he told the woman who was probably regretting doing the very thing he was about to thank her for. "You just saved my friend's life. For the moment. And it's fortunate that you found her, really. Because now I can get send these hunters on a real merry chase, and you've got someone flesh and blood to help, since I no longer have eyes on you."
Except there was a signal coming through now--not that he'd tell her that, when Fate could see a tumble of black and green and brown and...leather?...and she had her knee to Sascha's throat. "Look, she's probably terrif--" Yeah, good, paint the defenseless datathief weaker than she is. That'll keep her alive. "Just let her know I said hi."
With that done, he scooped up his datapad and began reading a whole barrel full of Life and Times.
Bad Reputation [Closed] - Tindome - 05-15-2015
That answered that.
Sort of.
"Start shit," she warned the woman beneath her, "an' I'll kick ya back out t'have fun with all o' them assholes outside." She slid off of her and stood, trying to decide if she'd just been tricked into participating in a rescue mission. She didn't much like the idea of being made to think her own person was in danger, not when it was someone else's skin on the line. Didn't much like the idea of being put into someone else's line of fire, either.
There were a lot of things Kreska didn't like.
She crouched and stuck her hand into the soil that covered the floor to search for roots, narrowing her eyes at the foliage as she tried to decide which one was the camera. "Y'know a ginge calls 'mself Fate?" she asked. "Cuz he's real happy you're not dead, 'parently." She was pretty sure she'd found the rogue flower, so she sat down and started unlacing her boots. Adrenaline rush over and done with, her hand was starting to throb, lights or no lights. Quite pleased with her own creativity, she stuck her boot over the camera. She was... pretty sure that was the only one. She wasn't as worried about remote viewers as she was about recordings, though the thought of either made her skin crawl. Last thing she needed was Grilka with her ass on camera.
Kreska had a reputation as a prude, but that mostly went for Terran masculine types. Call it a learned paranoia. Not that she was particularly friendly with femmes, but necessity was what it was, and right now necessity was bare skin. Wasn't like a woman in a catsuit had much room to judge, anyhow. She slipped out of the suit jacket that had made such a poor substitute for her leather, and scowled at the hand-shaped bruise still decorating her left arm.
"Don' get th' wrong idea," she warned the brunette as she wiggled out of her jeans, sitting down by a fern to stretch out her legs. Around her right ankle was a slender slip of metal, Grilka's panic button for real serious shit. She had no intention of ever using it, but it was a handy way to let people know if she was dead, anyway. She dug through her pockets to find her tablet and her cigarettes, and lit one up as she checked the notifications Fate had been leaving her. She narrowed her eyes at the title 'sexy beast', but snorted when she saw the video it contained.
"Feel free t'make yourself comfy," she said, exhaling smoke, "cuz I get th' feelin' we might be stuck here a while." Which had been her plan all along, but she'd planned for alone. Not entertaining company in nothing but a tank top and briefs.
Sort of.
"Start shit," she warned the woman beneath her, "an' I'll kick ya back out t'have fun with all o' them assholes outside." She slid off of her and stood, trying to decide if she'd just been tricked into participating in a rescue mission. She didn't much like the idea of being made to think her own person was in danger, not when it was someone else's skin on the line. Didn't much like the idea of being put into someone else's line of fire, either.
There were a lot of things Kreska didn't like.
She crouched and stuck her hand into the soil that covered the floor to search for roots, narrowing her eyes at the foliage as she tried to decide which one was the camera. "Y'know a ginge calls 'mself Fate?" she asked. "Cuz he's real happy you're not dead, 'parently." She was pretty sure she'd found the rogue flower, so she sat down and started unlacing her boots. Adrenaline rush over and done with, her hand was starting to throb, lights or no lights. Quite pleased with her own creativity, she stuck her boot over the camera. She was... pretty sure that was the only one. She wasn't as worried about remote viewers as she was about recordings, though the thought of either made her skin crawl. Last thing she needed was Grilka with her ass on camera.
Kreska had a reputation as a prude, but that mostly went for Terran masculine types. Call it a learned paranoia. Not that she was particularly friendly with femmes, but necessity was what it was, and right now necessity was bare skin. Wasn't like a woman in a catsuit had much room to judge, anyhow. She slipped out of the suit jacket that had made such a poor substitute for her leather, and scowled at the hand-shaped bruise still decorating her left arm.
"Don' get th' wrong idea," she warned the brunette as she wiggled out of her jeans, sitting down by a fern to stretch out her legs. Around her right ankle was a slender slip of metal, Grilka's panic button for real serious shit. She had no intention of ever using it, but it was a handy way to let people know if she was dead, anyway. She dug through her pockets to find her tablet and her cigarettes, and lit one up as she checked the notifications Fate had been leaving her. She narrowed her eyes at the title 'sexy beast', but snorted when she saw the video it contained.
"Feel free t'make yourself comfy," she said, exhaling smoke, "cuz I get th' feelin' we might be stuck here a while." Which had been her plan all along, but she'd planned for alone. Not entertaining company in nothing but a tank top and briefs.
Bad Reputation [Closed] - danixiewrites - 05-18-2015
No sooner had the tiny green alien left her throat than Sascha hauled her ass to a far wall and examined the brighter-than-reasonable room, tapping on the wall. Testing it for how well it'd hold up against a mech and feeling her stomach curl in on itself no matter what the answer might have been. Terrific. Now she was a stationary target. But at least the woman who'd made her that way wasn't trying to collect the bounty on her head. Or trying to get at the massive amounts of sensitive research she might have lifted from a corporation who didn't take too kindly to that kind of thing. She snorted. Understatement. Of. The. Millennium.
She moved to an inner wall and drew her knees up. "Yeah. Okay. Thanks for not doing that. In advance." She sighed. "I'm normally better at handling things...today's pretty much the worst drek you can imagine. I'm Sascha. Sass, if you want. You?"
--
Kreska.
Fate had been amused by her skill at evasion & acrobatics while injured. Now he was downright impressed. Because Kreska Ido--Robinson, really?--it seemed, had a *bit* of notoriety. By all rights, if he was processing this highspeed download correctly and she had more visibility to go with her name, she would be the target of schemes from both idiots and seasoned pros alike--though neither would probably live long after her luck got her rescued. Because it had to be luck that kept her alive. Maybe a tiny bit the reputation of the company she kept, maybe the ceiling-rafter-club gymnast shit, but mostly...luck. Why else would a would-be fugitive who followed directives from total fucking strangers and dragged equally unknown women into her safe zones to hide with her have survived this long? If Sass had been a bounty hunter or even a hungry runaway, his newest charge would be dead.
How was it he was so lucky as to wind up working with consistently impulsive women, and still not getting laid?
His implant nearly worked its way out of his eye socket when he spotted the slaver's collar, and the subsequent explosion. "Honey," he started, then shook his head until the cable coming out of his neck rattled against the arm of his chair. "Kreska. As soon as these goons clear out I'm sending a medbot."
This, just before he accessed a camera in the room, caught a glimpse of Sascha's closed circuit wristcomp, and then saw the screen go dark. "Hey!" he protested, even as he did some monkeying of his own. Infrared might have been useless given the heat in the room, but neither woman gave off quite as much, so he could monitor the dead spots until they evened out. In the meantime, both were safe. He had time to work on another solution.
--
"Fate? Oh, THANK THE CARDS." Sascha sucked in a huge gulp of air, tugging absently on the straps of her boots. "Where is he? I need to kill him."
>>Tell her I heard that.
Dark eyebrows went up as more green skin was revealed, some of it darker than it seemed healthy to be, and her companion set about getting comfortable. "Uh," she answered, then decided warning her was the least she could do for getting her out of the line of fire, "Have you known Fate long? You do realize that if he knows there's stripping happening, any device he can see through can and will be hacked, right?"
>>There's WHAT?
"Two of us here, that horny bastard will be waiting for that 'wrong idea' to get started." A low strain of music with a thumping beat that sounded suspiciously like what a stripper would dance to came from somewhere near Kreska and Sascha groaned. "Please tell me that's like...your ringtone."
>>Tell her I'm waiting.
Bad Reputation [Closed] - Tindome - 05-18-2015
"This whole week blows," she agreed, though she otherwise made no move or expression to reassure the skittish woman. "Don't matter," she added with a shrug, which was a bit rude when her 'guest' was being downright friendly. Of course, her secrecy turned out to be pointless when Fate called her by her name. She'd anticipated that he'd look her up, but it was still an irritant. At least he hadn't said that other thing. Talking to someone who wasn't in the room when the person who was in the room couldn't hear didn't sit right with her, so she rested her cigarette in her mouth while her good hand swiped quick over her keyboard
☠» not ur honey
☠» stick w the name if thats the alternative
☠» w/e
☠» dont bother
☠» im good
☠» + compatibility trubs
The only good a medbot would do was resetting her fingers, rebandaging it maybe. She could do that fine herself. Jobari didn't have medicine, not the way that humans did, because that simply wasn't how their bodies worked. They just… grew back. And Terran medicine had a nasty habit of throwing her system all out of whack, triggering incompatible immune responses. Nothing worse than someone trying to be helpful, injecting her with something that made her blood turn to fire. There was only one person who knew better than she did how to fix herself up, and she hadn't seen him since the Academy.
☠» feel free 2 send booze
☠» 4 med reasons
☠» weed also good
☠» actually
☠» scratch that
☠» def booze tho
Her sigh was halfway to a groan as Sascha made an ill-advised observation, all-caps in her messages. "Dunno him," she said, taking her cigarette out of her mouth and jerking her thumb toward her wayward footwear, "but if he can hack a boot'll almost be sorry t'feed'm his own dick." She took another drag. "Almost." That was for his benefit. There was also the camera on her tablet, of course, but that wasn't going to be pointed anywhere interesting at any point. "Wouldn'a known if ya hadn't said that, tho," she said, and she tilted her head and tapped her earpiece. "I'mma assume'm right in thinkin' there's no point hangin' up on him." Kreska responded to the music the way she responded to noisy neighbors with bad taste, turning on Third Station Noise Femme Gamma Punk and turning up the volume. It was not exactly danceable.
☠» hack urself a speakerphone ffs
"Y'wanna grab that thing on th'wall in th'corner?" she asked, gesturing to the emergency first aid kit. She 'd begun peeling the tattered gauze from her bad hand, cigarette resting in her mouth as the ash grew longer than the rest of it. It was… extremely unpleasant. Not bleeding or anything, but it turned out running around and trying to perform complex tasks was not great for broken fingers. The whole area beneath the bandages was bruised and swelling and gross. And hurt to touch. A lot. She brought up one of her knees to rest her arm on it, and glowered at her hand as if that would make it stop. "Name's Kreska," she added, since there wasn't any point being precious about it at that point.
☠» not ur honey
☠» stick w the name if thats the alternative
☠» w/e
☠» dont bother
☠» im good
☠» + compatibility trubs
The only good a medbot would do was resetting her fingers, rebandaging it maybe. She could do that fine herself. Jobari didn't have medicine, not the way that humans did, because that simply wasn't how their bodies worked. They just… grew back. And Terran medicine had a nasty habit of throwing her system all out of whack, triggering incompatible immune responses. Nothing worse than someone trying to be helpful, injecting her with something that made her blood turn to fire. There was only one person who knew better than she did how to fix herself up, and she hadn't seen him since the Academy.
☠» feel free 2 send booze
☠» 4 med reasons
☠» weed also good
☠» actually
☠» scratch that
☠» def booze tho
Her sigh was halfway to a groan as Sascha made an ill-advised observation, all-caps in her messages. "Dunno him," she said, taking her cigarette out of her mouth and jerking her thumb toward her wayward footwear, "but if he can hack a boot'll almost be sorry t'feed'm his own dick." She took another drag. "Almost." That was for his benefit. There was also the camera on her tablet, of course, but that wasn't going to be pointed anywhere interesting at any point. "Wouldn'a known if ya hadn't said that, tho," she said, and she tilted her head and tapped her earpiece. "I'mma assume'm right in thinkin' there's no point hangin' up on him." Kreska responded to the music the way she responded to noisy neighbors with bad taste, turning on Third Station Noise Femme Gamma Punk and turning up the volume. It was not exactly danceable.
☠» hack urself a speakerphone ffs
"Y'wanna grab that thing on th'wall in th'corner?" she asked, gesturing to the emergency first aid kit. She 'd begun peeling the tattered gauze from her bad hand, cigarette resting in her mouth as the ash grew longer than the rest of it. It was… extremely unpleasant. Not bleeding or anything, but it turned out running around and trying to perform complex tasks was not great for broken fingers. The whole area beneath the bandages was bruised and swelling and gross. And hurt to touch. A lot. She brought up one of her knees to rest her arm on it, and glowered at her hand as if that would make it stop. "Name's Kreska," she added, since there wasn't any point being precious about it at that point.
Bad Reputation [Closed] - danixiewrites - 05-28-2015
Fate was only making a half-hearted attempt to hack vids and see this "stripping". His primary focus was on keeping them secure, and THAT would involve patching a software update into Sascha's comp. "And tell her to--ah." He blinked at the screen for a moment, his nose crinkling.Wonderful. She's back to typing. In green-lady lingo.
>>Ah, then I think I've figured out the problem.
>>You're not supposed to date the medbot.
He had options. He could send one anyway, just in case. He could ask Kreska to loan his friend one of her devices--or he could backdoor Sass's comp thru the network and just continue bothering her through Kreska...he could send warm booze courtesy of his broken fridge or he could hack some serving bot from topside...decisions made.
>>Beer soup it is.
>>Ask Sass what she wants.
Now that he had her back, he wasn't about to take the risk of losing her--and it seemed prudent to keep tabs on Kreska as well. He'd recorded over the tapes as soon as Sass appeared on them, but if any of the hunters had seen them together........
"I'm uncomfortable with those two hiding someplace I can't secure."
Not that he couldn't commission some hardware for beefing up external security. Not that said commissions weren't already underway. It just...if he had to put them into play, they'd draw attention. This was back to a game of balancing.
"Going to have to keep an eye out for an increase in Greenie's payday," he continued to muse aloud.
Hack done and carefully concealed from Sascha--an intrusion she'd notice sooner rather than later--and serverbot sent, a similar search on his friend's recent activities pinged his tablet. It returned nothing more than that single, albeit grandiose, bounty. There had to be more, but if there was, it was hiding behind so many firewalls he'd be looking for days. The price tag alone did not justify the mobilization of an apparent hodgepodge of hunters now systematically making their way through every nook and cranny on the level.
Anyone with a brain knew bounty hunters did not operate well in large teams. They certainly didn't have military carriage and precise formations. "I know that last job was gonna be challenging, but what the fuck did she get herself involved in now?"
--
Sascha snorted. "I think he realizes he's got limits when inanimate objects are concerned. And then ignores that important fact."
>>Yep. Limits? Who needs limits?"
"I wouldn't have said anything if I'd known he was listening, and not just chiming you repeatedly on your tech." She rolled her eyes. "No, you're right. No point. He's like the most obnoxious older sibling in the galaxy."
>>She loves it.
>>For the record, we're not related.
>>And I'm also not keen on being in the "bro zone".
>>In case she's giving you ideas now.
She ran a hand through tangled waves of brown and black and dared to take her first deep breath in a whole 24 hours. Good thing #1: At least now she only had one corporation on her tail, and it wasn't the one with the giant mechs that decided to level the upper floors of unsuspecting dance clubs. Good thing #2: Fate was alive, having escaped whatever madness had befallen him when he'd shoved this job onto the Net. Good thing #3: She was still breathing, and no one was yet knocking down the door.
>>I would, but it'd blow out your eardrum.
>>I'm thinking you probably want that.
>>Ear.
>>For listening to whatever the fuck that ~noise~ is.
"Yeah, sure, no prob." She turned to retrieve the case and when she reached the other woman's side, she stared. "That looks awesome."
No point in understatement or even clinical assessment, when they both knew the correct word was 'mangled'.
"I'd rather have met you topside." She paused, then dropped to sit closer to Kreska without appearing to hover. "So you're here and your hand looks like that and you're tangled up with Fate...I'm not gonna ask what happened because, well: I'm here and my outfit looks like this and I'm tangled up with...anyway. Is there anyone you need to call? To like...let them know you're alive? I've got a closed comm--the goons outside won't be able to run a trace if you need to use it."
>>Tell her you're already talking to the only wench who matters.
>>On second thought, don't.
>>She's right, you probably have other wenches who matter so that's just rude.
>>The posh rats who live at your place, maybe.
>>Maybe I just haven't gotten that far on my research yet.
Bad Reputation [Closed] - Tindome - 05-30-2015
Kreska rolled her eyes at her tablet, not that he could see it. She shouldn't have even dignified it with a response. It barely even deserved the silent treatment.
☠» the fuck r ur dates like
☠» nm don't tell me
☠» ignorance = bliss etc
It was one hell of a balancing act, keeping one hand and her tablet propped on her knees while her other hand alternated typing and smoking. She blew smoke and furrowed her eyebrows at the screen. Was he actually planning to have them open up the door for a beer delivery? That seemed… optimistic.
"S'fine," she reassured the brunette. "Ginge's takin' orders if ya wanna drink, 'parently," She accepted the first aid kit with her good hand, sliding it along the ground and trying to figure out the best balance that would let her access it without having to set anything down. Ix didn't know how good he had it, the four-armed asshole. "Jobari don' have siblings," she noted absently through the corner of her mouth not holding a cigarette, focused on opening the kit one-handed. "An' def not bros. If it's like this, tho, we ain't missin' much." She'd gone from not naming herself to naming her whole species, as if the one necessarily carried the other. Playing the nonspecific weird xeno felt pointless when she had a name to her face.
Still might pretend to spit acid, though. Because she might as well.
"Can still hear ya," she murmured, because just because she was choosing to type didn't mean he'd remembered to mute his mic. Greenie. Fuck's sake.
☠» just jelly of my sweet jamz
☠» could've done screampuff bangers if i wanted 2 be mean
☠» i am merciful + just
"Should see th'other guy," she said automatically to Sascha. "… an' then run. Cuz he's a bounty hunter. An' a dick." The kit popped open, and she put out her cigarette to dig through it. Shit she couldn't use, shit she couldn't use…
"Oh, fuck me sideways." Who kept mentholated cream in a first aid kit? She'd kiss them. If she ever kissed anyone. Hypothetically speaking. There were problems inherent in the solution, which she anticipated by ripping out her earpiece and tossing it on the ground. She moved her tablet, picked up the jar to hold it between her knees so she could twist the lid off the jar. She covered two fingers of her good hand in it, then hesitated.
This was going to feel worse before it felt better. And every instinct she had didn't want her to be touching her hand. She did it anyway.
"Hnnnnngh, aah, ah, ha, ow, fuckshitcockdamnfuckow, ah, oh, oh ╚╬╪╪╡–"
The actual act of touching her hand, unsurprisingly, hurt like hell. It didn't help when she jerked reflexively, sent pain from the broken bones all down through to her elbows like she had knives shooting down her veins. Numb was not the word for the relief that came when it took effect, which made it absolutely worth it and then some. She didn't need anyone in her ear for those particular groans, crisp consonants and assimilated vowels rolling in ways that Standard did not. Relief aside, it was still a bit nauseating, having to watch as she smeared it over her fingers.
Her eyes may have been watering. Definitely not because it hurt, because that would make her a fucking sissy. She rubbed the palm of her good hand over her eyes, then rubbed them clean on her thigh. She couldn't really feel some of her good fingers anymore, but small price to pay, as these things went.
"Shit happens," she sighed, because she wasn't going to be asking any questions either, digging for something she could use as a brace. "Anyone't matters knows I ain't dead," she said with a shrug, would know until her anklet sent out a signal to the contrary. "Don' need any snakes tryna do me favors, anyway." Ey'd probably know she was here, if ey looked. Grilka always kept track of eir rooms. Might not be certain it was Kreska, at first, but ey'd figure it out eventually. What ey'd choose to do about it wasn't clear. Might try to extract a favor for letting her use the room, might just want to see what was happening. Hopefully ey'd be busy, because dealing with Osiris's resident Krotazi was difficult enough when she wasn't tired and half naked and on the mend.
☠» the fuck r ur dates like
☠» nm don't tell me
☠» ignorance = bliss etc
It was one hell of a balancing act, keeping one hand and her tablet propped on her knees while her other hand alternated typing and smoking. She blew smoke and furrowed her eyebrows at the screen. Was he actually planning to have them open up the door for a beer delivery? That seemed… optimistic.
"S'fine," she reassured the brunette. "Ginge's takin' orders if ya wanna drink, 'parently," She accepted the first aid kit with her good hand, sliding it along the ground and trying to figure out the best balance that would let her access it without having to set anything down. Ix didn't know how good he had it, the four-armed asshole. "Jobari don' have siblings," she noted absently through the corner of her mouth not holding a cigarette, focused on opening the kit one-handed. "An' def not bros. If it's like this, tho, we ain't missin' much." She'd gone from not naming herself to naming her whole species, as if the one necessarily carried the other. Playing the nonspecific weird xeno felt pointless when she had a name to her face.
Still might pretend to spit acid, though. Because she might as well.
"Can still hear ya," she murmured, because just because she was choosing to type didn't mean he'd remembered to mute his mic. Greenie. Fuck's sake.
☠» just jelly of my sweet jamz
☠» could've done screampuff bangers if i wanted 2 be mean
☠» i am merciful + just
"Should see th'other guy," she said automatically to Sascha. "… an' then run. Cuz he's a bounty hunter. An' a dick." The kit popped open, and she put out her cigarette to dig through it. Shit she couldn't use, shit she couldn't use…
"Oh, fuck me sideways." Who kept mentholated cream in a first aid kit? She'd kiss them. If she ever kissed anyone. Hypothetically speaking. There were problems inherent in the solution, which she anticipated by ripping out her earpiece and tossing it on the ground. She moved her tablet, picked up the jar to hold it between her knees so she could twist the lid off the jar. She covered two fingers of her good hand in it, then hesitated.
This was going to feel worse before it felt better. And every instinct she had didn't want her to be touching her hand. She did it anyway.
"Hnnnnngh, aah, ah, ha, ow, fuckshitcockdamnfuckow, ah, oh, oh ╚╬╪╪╡–"
The actual act of touching her hand, unsurprisingly, hurt like hell. It didn't help when she jerked reflexively, sent pain from the broken bones all down through to her elbows like she had knives shooting down her veins. Numb was not the word for the relief that came when it took effect, which made it absolutely worth it and then some. She didn't need anyone in her ear for those particular groans, crisp consonants and assimilated vowels rolling in ways that Standard did not. Relief aside, it was still a bit nauseating, having to watch as she smeared it over her fingers.
Her eyes may have been watering. Definitely not because it hurt, because that would make her a fucking sissy. She rubbed the palm of her good hand over her eyes, then rubbed them clean on her thigh. She couldn't really feel some of her good fingers anymore, but small price to pay, as these things went.
"Shit happens," she sighed, because she wasn't going to be asking any questions either, digging for something she could use as a brace. "Anyone't matters knows I ain't dead," she said with a shrug, would know until her anklet sent out a signal to the contrary. "Don' need any snakes tryna do me favors, anyway." Ey'd probably know she was here, if ey looked. Grilka always kept track of eir rooms. Might not be certain it was Kreska, at first, but ey'd figure it out eventually. What ey'd choose to do about it wasn't clear. Might try to extract a favor for letting her use the room, might just want to see what was happening. Hopefully ey'd be busy, because dealing with Osiris's resident Krotazi was difficult enough when she wasn't tired and half naked and on the mend.
Bad Reputation [Closed] - danixiewrites - 06-08-2015
Don't tell me, she'd said, and so Fate would show Kreska instead. A video labeled "Flexible" and showcasing the x-rated cages at Radius--complete with green monkey-lady running laps atop them--was sent to her tablet in the time it took him to take a deep breath."He's gonna...do a liquor run?" he heard Sass ask and fought to keep a snort from surfacing.
"I should have known she'd say 'liquor'." He shouldn't have offered. Sass's tastes in booze went to top shelf, and that meant the effort he was about to expend increased threefold.
>>I'll buy her something nice.
And he would have to buy it--or at least make the bar think he'd bought it--because fuck if he was going to steal booze someone would notice missing. Beer was one thing. A bottle of Venusian Fireball? Pfft.
"He's gonna send it...here? Like some neon green 'hey assholes, guess who's hiding behind door number 3' sign?" Sass asked then, with an incredulity in her voice that hurt.
After all these years a man would think he'd earned some respect.
"Well you're lucky, I think," she continued, and Fate blew out a harsh breath.
He was pretty damned sure, after taking in the breadth of her file, that the only thing lucky about Kreska Ido's life was the way in which she remained breathing.
"I had one once...before Fate. Just as much hassle."
Fate frowned as he tabbed his mic off and punched in the final coding for their server bot--or what he'd chosen to use as one. What had he said aloud this time? He frowned even harder at her next words and then grinned as the military-grade battle AI--a navy blue, gleaming bodyguard shell with him for an AI--drew up to the serving bot at a pub and placed the order.
>>Maybe the problem is that your ears are already broken.
>>I will go with that.
>>Rather than believing green people the worlds over have no taste.
Not that he knew any other Jobari, or had studied any of their files as extensively as hers, but she didn't need to know that.
"At least Fate comes with the benefit of wanting to keep people alive though. Even if it is just so he has someone around to laugh at his jokes. Or you know. Keep him from being lonely."
This last was said with a tone of voice he hadn't heard in a long while and so instead of pinging Kreska, he chose to send a message directly to Sass.
>>Quit messing with your gloves.
>>No one can see them.
He paused, then added,
>>Did they hurt you, Sassy girl?
The flurry of notes that came back stabbed him in the chest a little, as did the variety of sounds that came from--presumably--Kreska.
>>!!!
>>How long have you been able to use this thing?
>>You could've sent me something at any time, couldn't you?
>>And you let me worry instead.
>>That you'd been caught by those Enforcer goons who were tailing me.
>>Or killed.
>>JACKASS.
He cringed.
>>I just hacked it.
>>Just now.
There was no response.
--
Sascha fumed as she released the cuffs of her gloves. She was pretty sure she'd only been picking at the fabric because Kreska's hand looked a lot worse than hers had once. Smelled it, too. Her nose wrinkled. Cards, it was even worse hearing from Fate after all this time when he was right. Fussing with them would only make them wear more, which in turn would show the marks of her time with the Perseid Group. She tugged instead at the zipper built into the lining of her stolen suit.
>>Sass?
"Well that's good, then, good," she said to Kreska, ignoring the repeated green text on her comm. She worried the zipper down, then back up, missing the drek out of her gear and unsure she wanted to know about the snakes in the other woman's life. Considering the snakes she'd just left had been able to rip the thoughts out of someone's head and leave them nothing more than an empty shell--she was a little alarmed. "Kudos on the self-first aid. And for taking out the bounty hunter, right? Not sure I could've done that myself. Run like my feet have turbos, sure."
>>Silence does not become you.
Of course, she could and would have done the first aid as circumstances called for it. But with another body in the room as witness? Nope. Since she probably should have let it go to save Kreska's dignity without referencing the disgusting combination of goop + ooze at all, she wracked her brain for something else to talk about.
>>Talk to me.
"I'd ask if he could send us a wardrobe to choose from as well," she suggested aloud. "He'd probably wind up stealing a rack from the back room at a strip joint though." The image made her laugh, and she swiped away a helpless tear. "We'd have some pissed off naked strippers after us then, but at least our friendly bounty hunters would be so confused they wouldn't notice if some booze snuck in."
Across the way, Kreska's tablet would light up with:
>>Tell her the plan has been noted.
>>It may take a little time to work up the stripper brigade though.
Bad Reputation [Closed] - Tindome - 06-09-2015
Finding out that he'd saved a copy of the security video was not terribly endearing, as these things went. At least it didn't include the part where everything went boom. Just the part where she looked kind of cool and evasive, maybe. Though at least at the time she hadn't been able to see what had been going on in the glass beneath her. Ew.
☠» so what ur sayin is
☠» ur dates r fuckin awful
☠» + painful
"Guess so," she said to Sascha, because she wasn't terribly clear on that herself. When in doubt, Kreska preferred to pretend she had any idea whatsoever what was going on. If someone who knew him well thought he was serious, then it seemed likely that he was. Though she didn't seem particularly enthused about it. "If he can find some birch beer't might be worth it," she mumbled, because as much as she disliked sharing a childish preference for obscure imported Terran sodas, she was feeling rather childish. If someone had offered her some chocolate right then, she would have pounced.
She had not, at any point in her life, wished she'd had her mother. But she'd fairly often wished she'd had a cookie. One was infinitely better at offering her comfort in difficult times.
'Once', she said, which raised uncomfortable questions she wasn't going to ask. Maybe it was a sore spot, maybe she didn't much care. Sounded more like the latter, but she wouldn't risk it to pry, anyway.
☠» taste is impeccable
☠» philenstein
☠» u see another green chick def play her some metal tho
☠» 100% success guarantee
That word choice of hers wasn't any more reassuring where her family was concerned, though she seemed to be dealing with messages of her own, now. At least it made a minor distraction from the accidental show Kreska was making of the situation. "Iffat's why he's tryna keep me from dyin' he's gonna be real disappointed," she snorted. "Sense o' humor's not real inspirin'." With splints on her fingers to keep them straight, she used a combination of her good hand and her teeth to wrap gauze around the thing. It wasn't the best job, but it would work okay until she could do something better. At least it didn't hurt anymore. Her hand probably felt better than the rest of her, quite frankly, even if the look of it and the awareness of its status was stomach-churning.
"Didn't take'm out," she admitted, tearing off tape to fasten down the end of the gauze on the back of her hand. "Dunno where he got to. Might've fucked off, might not've. Don't think he got ate, don't think he's been pokin' around anywhere't matters. Prolly not wi'this clusterfuck, neither, since he don't like sharin'." She didn't put her earpiece back in, but she retrieved her tablet from the ground. "Runnin's better'n most things."
She readjusted her position, went from sitting to kneeling to sprawling out on her stomach, because letting the ground hold the tablet was easier than laying on her back. And this way she could reach behind herself to pull her shirt higher on her back, bunching it closer to her neck to expose more skin to sunlamps. Nothing risqué, unless someone found spines and ribcages extraordinarily enticing.
"Ya'd prolly have more luck wi'that'n me," she said with a lopsided not-quite smile. "Ain't got th'figure or th' disposition for anything that sparkly." She glanced at Sascha's fidgeting fingers amidst the ill-fitting leather. "Can see why ya'd be willin' t'risk it, tho."
☠» thats a bad plan
☠» stick w the rat army
☠» rat army was better
☠» w top hats
☠» top hats r vital
"He's sendin' ballgowns," she lied, "on account o' you're a pretty pretty princess."
☠» so what ur sayin is
☠» ur dates r fuckin awful
☠» + painful
"Guess so," she said to Sascha, because she wasn't terribly clear on that herself. When in doubt, Kreska preferred to pretend she had any idea whatsoever what was going on. If someone who knew him well thought he was serious, then it seemed likely that he was. Though she didn't seem particularly enthused about it. "If he can find some birch beer't might be worth it," she mumbled, because as much as she disliked sharing a childish preference for obscure imported Terran sodas, she was feeling rather childish. If someone had offered her some chocolate right then, she would have pounced.
She had not, at any point in her life, wished she'd had her mother. But she'd fairly often wished she'd had a cookie. One was infinitely better at offering her comfort in difficult times.
'Once', she said, which raised uncomfortable questions she wasn't going to ask. Maybe it was a sore spot, maybe she didn't much care. Sounded more like the latter, but she wouldn't risk it to pry, anyway.
☠» taste is impeccable
☠» philenstein
☠» u see another green chick def play her some metal tho
☠» 100% success guarantee
That word choice of hers wasn't any more reassuring where her family was concerned, though she seemed to be dealing with messages of her own, now. At least it made a minor distraction from the accidental show Kreska was making of the situation. "Iffat's why he's tryna keep me from dyin' he's gonna be real disappointed," she snorted. "Sense o' humor's not real inspirin'." With splints on her fingers to keep them straight, she used a combination of her good hand and her teeth to wrap gauze around the thing. It wasn't the best job, but it would work okay until she could do something better. At least it didn't hurt anymore. Her hand probably felt better than the rest of her, quite frankly, even if the look of it and the awareness of its status was stomach-churning.
"Didn't take'm out," she admitted, tearing off tape to fasten down the end of the gauze on the back of her hand. "Dunno where he got to. Might've fucked off, might not've. Don't think he got ate, don't think he's been pokin' around anywhere't matters. Prolly not wi'this clusterfuck, neither, since he don't like sharin'." She didn't put her earpiece back in, but she retrieved her tablet from the ground. "Runnin's better'n most things."
She readjusted her position, went from sitting to kneeling to sprawling out on her stomach, because letting the ground hold the tablet was easier than laying on her back. And this way she could reach behind herself to pull her shirt higher on her back, bunching it closer to her neck to expose more skin to sunlamps. Nothing risqué, unless someone found spines and ribcages extraordinarily enticing.
"Ya'd prolly have more luck wi'that'n me," she said with a lopsided not-quite smile. "Ain't got th'figure or th' disposition for anything that sparkly." She glanced at Sascha's fidgeting fingers amidst the ill-fitting leather. "Can see why ya'd be willin' t'risk it, tho."
☠» thats a bad plan
☠» stick w the rat army
☠» rat army was better
☠» w top hats
☠» top hats r vital
"He's sendin' ballgowns," she lied, "on account o' you're a pretty pretty princess."
Bad Reputation [Closed] - danixiewrites - 06-22-2015
He took the liberty of hacking her previous texts to reflect more appropriate descriptors. "Awful" for example, she'd clearly intended to be "hot", and "painful" was certainly supposed to be "rowdy". If they hadn't yet left her screen she'd likely be pissed; if they had, she'd notice the next time she tried to type them. It'd be damn near impossible to change stop the auto correction from asserting itself like some persnickety AI. His grin gleamed in the reflection of the monitors that sprawled across his wall and desk."You haven't laughed, not even once? And he's still bugging you?" Sass's voice piped into his ear. "That is curious."
Oh, she had laughed, all right. Fate grimaced. Even if it had been out of derision--a few times, not every time. But it didn't matter. Sass was wrong about why he'd continued to piggyback on Kreska's tech. And it hadn't been because he was bored, either. Well. It wasn't anymore, and that's what counted in the grand scheme of karmic balance, right?
When he activated the camera on her tablet it wasn't to peek at whatever stripping might have been occurring, but rather to get a view of the ceiling and/or wall for a possible entry point he could extrapolate. Least obtrusive would be the floor, but he didn't figure asking for a view would go over well, so he'd do yet another thing he was good at: calculations.
At first, the room was washed out to such a degree he was certain she'd done something to the lens. But...
Geez. It's like they're sitting under a tiny sun.
>>So is now a good time to ask a personal question?
Regardless of her response, he'd continue undeterred:
>>Is your skin made of LEAVES?
>>It's like a sun exploded in there.
He didn't expect a serious response, particularly as she realized he'd only say something like that if he had eyes on the room and she'd just suggested playing a song that would probably have him murdered at the hands of the next tiny green lady he tried to woo, so he'd head back to his research on sussing out how Jobari Kreska actually was. He wondered how many layers of security and red tape the answer would be buried under, and how many important people it would piss off when he accessed it.
>>I could send a weatherbot.
>>Make it rain on your rat-stripper parade.
>>Which by the way is happening.
>>Bow ties and top hats and nothing else.
>>Leaves like rain, right?
--
Sascha frowned. "If he's got sense your bogie'll be far from this mess anyway. Corporations get involved, the vultures on the edges of the sinkhole tend to get sucked in and drowned so the big boys can climb out."
She shuddered, catching a glimpse of green text scrolling over her wrist and forcing herself not to read another apology. "Good news is that means you'll be in the clear once they aren't...out there."
At least someone's enjoying the bright light, she mused as her companion seemed like she had taken her advice about Fate's tendencies seriously, but was still determined to get a tan. She tucked herself back against the wall and into some of the plantlife, both hoping for shade and that said plantlife wouldn't eat or poison her.
To both communication devices at once came:
>>Oh shit.
>>That's not what I said.
She laughed, and it tasted bitter, edged by the tangy scent of menthol. "If he were that concerned with my 'princess' status, he would've rescued me from the dragon in the tower. Instead of letting it blow up half of Osiris."
With a shake of her head she grinned and let her ire at that particular suggestion go. Fate had been running from Enforcement as fast as she had, and whether or not he could have commed her at any time didn't have any bearing on his ability to tackle interference on a rescue. "It'd be a waste of fabric. And I'd shred it to fraggin' hell. Stripper outfit would last longer at that rate. But so long as the gown comes with sunglasses and that liquor's legit though, I'll just sit here and enjoy my vacation."
Bad Reputation [Closed] - Tindome - 06-24-2015
It took her a moment to realize that the words were actually changing to other words, not only seeming to. She huffed in irritation, trying to find if there was a built in functionality for her to edit sent messages in her client of choice. If there was, she couldn't figure it out. This wasn't saying much, since she was just about the opposite of tech savvy when it came to this particular kind of tech.
☠» motherfucker what did i say about words
☠» + putting them places
☠» cut that shit out
☠» who says rowdy
☠» how old r u
☠» u can tell me if ur a brain in a jar from 1950
☠» in some kind of ginger jar
☠» lol
"Izzat how I get him to shut up?" she wondered. "Jus' not laugh, real hard?" How exactly a person went about aggressively not laughing at someone who wasn't in the room was a bit of a conundrum. Too late for that, anyway. In truth, he was funnier than most of the people she had to deal with on a regular basis. Kreska had a very particular sense of humor, and not everyone managed to catch on. Some of them just got pissy with her instead. And then tried to blow off her hand.
"I ain' too worried," she said, having perked up considerably since her arrival. She stretched her arms and pointed her toes with a hum, then relaxed, propping her chin up on her good hand. "Wasn't comin' here cuz I had someplace t'be." Which was a shorter explanation than 'other, different people who don't like me are staking out my apartment and the guy I was staying with is busy getting laid.' She'd always banked on hanging out until she got an all-clear or got too hungry to stay in hiding, whichever came first. "Ya gotta lotta experience pissin' off corporate?" she wondered, because that had never been Kreska's specialty. She narrowed her eyes at her tablet.
☠» literally never
☠» poison ivy
☠» lemme rub ur eyes
☠» wait
☠» wtf
She turned to look over her shoulder to be sure the boot was still in place. Was there another camera she didn't know about? Eyes grazed over the various plants in the room and fixtures in the ceiling. She'd disabled the camera in her tablet so long ago that she didn't even remember that it existed.
☠» wtf r u seeing + how
☠» seriously
☠» rats r always naked
☠» thats how rats work
☠» how would that even fit
☠» don't answer that
Any data Teraka Ido possessed regarding her daughter was stored strictly on the organic media that was the Jobari default, inaccessible by human-compatible tech. The only real information about her was left over from her days at the Academy, and mostly consisted of lists of medications and treatments unsuitable for her person. No general anaesthesia, no opiates or opiods, no benzos, nothing even remotely similar in effect to any of those things, don't try to be clever, no really don't, aspirin is okay, regular exposure to sunlamps required, access to intar medically necessary, etc etc etc. Everything was laced with the call number of an undesignated and retired OmniCorp; in case of emergency, call, call with questions, call if something goes wrong, call at the slightest provocation. Any substantial information was stored in their personal memory.
☠» wow its almost like its not cool when someone makes u say shit
☠» weird rite
"Always thought knights're scarier'n dragons," she murmured. "I'm green, tho, so'm prolly biased." She raised an eyebrow. "What exactly ya plannin' on doin's gonna shred a dress?"
☠» motherfucker what did i say about words
☠» + putting them places
☠» cut that shit out
☠» who says rowdy
☠» how old r u
☠» u can tell me if ur a brain in a jar from 1950
☠» in some kind of ginger jar
☠» lol
"Izzat how I get him to shut up?" she wondered. "Jus' not laugh, real hard?" How exactly a person went about aggressively not laughing at someone who wasn't in the room was a bit of a conundrum. Too late for that, anyway. In truth, he was funnier than most of the people she had to deal with on a regular basis. Kreska had a very particular sense of humor, and not everyone managed to catch on. Some of them just got pissy with her instead. And then tried to blow off her hand.
"I ain' too worried," she said, having perked up considerably since her arrival. She stretched her arms and pointed her toes with a hum, then relaxed, propping her chin up on her good hand. "Wasn't comin' here cuz I had someplace t'be." Which was a shorter explanation than 'other, different people who don't like me are staking out my apartment and the guy I was staying with is busy getting laid.' She'd always banked on hanging out until she got an all-clear or got too hungry to stay in hiding, whichever came first. "Ya gotta lotta experience pissin' off corporate?" she wondered, because that had never been Kreska's specialty. She narrowed her eyes at her tablet.
☠» literally never
☠» poison ivy
☠» lemme rub ur eyes
☠» wait
☠» wtf
She turned to look over her shoulder to be sure the boot was still in place. Was there another camera she didn't know about? Eyes grazed over the various plants in the room and fixtures in the ceiling. She'd disabled the camera in her tablet so long ago that she didn't even remember that it existed.
☠» wtf r u seeing + how
☠» seriously
☠» rats r always naked
☠» thats how rats work
☠» how would that even fit
☠» don't answer that
Any data Teraka Ido possessed regarding her daughter was stored strictly on the organic media that was the Jobari default, inaccessible by human-compatible tech. The only real information about her was left over from her days at the Academy, and mostly consisted of lists of medications and treatments unsuitable for her person. No general anaesthesia, no opiates or opiods, no benzos, nothing even remotely similar in effect to any of those things, don't try to be clever, no really don't, aspirin is okay, regular exposure to sunlamps required, access to intar medically necessary, etc etc etc. Everything was laced with the call number of an undesignated and retired OmniCorp; in case of emergency, call, call with questions, call if something goes wrong, call at the slightest provocation. Any substantial information was stored in their personal memory.
☠» wow its almost like its not cool when someone makes u say shit
☠» weird rite
"Always thought knights're scarier'n dragons," she murmured. "I'm green, tho, so'm prolly biased." She raised an eyebrow. "What exactly ya plannin' on doin's gonna shred a dress?"
Bad Reputation [Closed] - danixiewrites - 07-03-2015
"I'm not...geez...a jar??"Though amused at first, Fate actually huffed a little at the response by the time she'd gotten to the end of her rant. He'd known she'd be irritated by the corrective aftermath and picking on his words was what he'd looked forward to but...HE WASN'T OLD. Damn it. So what if he watched a lot of poorly preserved films and had crammed his brain with so much trivia alongside his knowledge that it couldn't help but slip out?
And Sascha's familiar tinkling laugh, followed by, "Oh no, Kreska. If you laughed even once...it's faaar too late to shut him up now," did not help.
He hunched in his chair and almost immediately straightened, because feeling like a petulant toddler was too far in the opposite direction of 'old'. There was no need to get testy and there were far more important things to worry about, he reasoned. He was the one who started it with the word-changing. And it was Kreska, besides; every conversation they'd had in the time he'd known her--literally what, an hour? Two? And just today, besides--had been full of the same snark.
He enjoyed the dickens out of it--except when she called him old.
Fate blew out a breath and stuck out his tongue. Then he sent a selfie.
Sort of.
Instead of his face and body sitting in the chair was instead a giant pickling jar filled with gray matter. Everything else was the same including the chair and the location of the cables--he couldn't be bothered to cut around all those wires in the short span it would even be on her screen.
>>Actually, doll, I'm a brain in a jar from the 1920's.
>>Right down to the booze smuggling.
The image would vanish from her tablet just as handily as it had appeared. He hadn't been cautious with it in the first place, too hung up on 'old' to do the usual metadata scrub. Unlike the texts sent, an image had a lot more to secure. There was nothing good that could come out of leaving an unencrypted image out there for anyone to glean. Anyone, of course, being wetwire freaks, hackers, and literal brain-in-a-jar, strapped-to-a-couch types--and anyone else with tech on tap who was interested in Kreska Ido.
>>Seriously.
>>How do you come up with these scenarios?
>>You just pull random ones out of one of your rats' top hats and jam them together?
>>Explains a lot if you do.
>>Given rats eat paper.
>>So probably chew off some letters.
There was a pause as he abandoned a query that seemed to spiral out into an intriguing void on his datapad and got his bots into place and heading toward Osiris' underbelly with a single blink of his augmented eye, then:
>>I could put little gold caps on their teeth for you.
---
It was good that at least one of them wasn't worried. Drek and fire waited outside that door and Sascha suspected she and Fate had enough anxiety to spare. It was good, too, that Kreska didn't have anywhere to go but here--good for hand reasons, she suspected as well--because neither of them was leaving until the hunters gave up...and most of those hunters were on a payroll.
Across the room, Kreska's pad lit up.
>>I see all.
>>Also no rash is a good rash.
>>Maybe if you trade clothes with Sass you can get closer though.
>>Kinky body suit, yes?
>>I won't peek.
>>Promise.
"Cards, yes," she began with no small amount of hesitation. Kreska knew Fate, and he'd cleared them to talk so she must have been okay for more specific details. Otherwise she'd have gotten a warning. "I piss off corporate all the time."
She glanced at her wrist, caught a quick text from Fate, and snorted.
>>Sass, I've done something horrible.
>>Don't let her cut the pad off, I need it to triangulate.
Shaking her head in disbelief she cleared the words from her screen. Triangulate what??
"I'm a data thief. Not hard-wired, mind you." She shuddered slightly, then gestured to the band around her wrist. "My keys to the kingdom. Do a bit of temporary sliding into the network and pulling out the bad bits they don't want people to know. Sometimes they don't want the dirty truth out bad enough that...well." A rueful glance toward the door they'd come through.
>>How, K-girl? You want to know how?
>>You'll see.
>>...Oh.
>>...I did make you mad.
>>...I'm sorry. :3
>>Just for clarity, was it only the words thing or also the lingerie?
>>Just for clarity, was it only the words thing?
"Data thieving means a lot of running. Can't run in a ballgown." Sascha shrugged. "Not too good for fitting into air and cleaning ducts, either. Though if he brought a hoop dress, all that wire'd be good for something..."
Bad Reputation [Closed] - Tindome - 07-04-2015
"Not even'f I was laughin' at 'n not with?" she asked hopefully. She had a hunch it was a moot point. Made more moot when a picture popped up on her screen that made her snort, transitioning to something halfway between a cackle and a giggle.
☠» explains a lot
☠» cept y u'd lie about being ginge
☠» who'd lie about that
☠» i guess a jarbrain
☠» r these things not normal on jarbrain planet
☠» this is all v plausible where i'm from
☠» no wonder u think this is bright
☠» have u ever seen a sun
☠» any sun
The sight of all those cables and accoutrements made her claustrophobic. She didn't know how anyone could stand it. Anyone organic, anyway. At his next series of messages, she made a face. "Ugh." Rather than respond, she pushed the tablet away from herself, sliding it along the ground. He could talk to nothing for a while and like it. She pulled herself up to kneeling, having thought up a now-obvious solution to a previous problem that had eluded her when she'd been tired. She listened as Sascha spoke, though as she did so she slid her arms inside of her shirt. They emerged out of the shirt's collar, though this didn't stretch it as much as a larger person would have. She gathered up spare fabric and twisted it, tying it crudely and one-handed in a large knot beneath her breasts.
Modesty status: basically preserved. As much as a tube-top and briefs could be considered modest. "Fun'r profit?" she wondered, because Sascha didn't seem to be getting much of either out of the bargain. Certainly wasn't enjoying being hunted the way some folk she knew did, no thrill of the chase in her face or the way she spoke. She ran a hand over her hair, pulling it up off her neck and getting rid of any debris that might have accumulated. She wasn't going to be able to let her braids out until her hand was better, not unless Ix was willing to take care of it for her. Which he might.
She stood, and brushed off her legs before moving to the little artificial pond that housed a few lilies. It was really more of a fountain with delusions of grandeur, but the important part was the spigot. Say what one would about Grilka, ey was good at making sure all the amenities were available. She cupped her hand to take a sip, then splashed a little over her face for good measure. A beer really would have been nice.
"Y'just gotta, uh." Kreska made a vague gesture around her legs, presumably indicating what she would have done with the kind of voluminous skirt in question. "Tie't all up'n ya can run fine," she said. "Prolly don' wear one if ya don' hafta, tho, yeh." She gestured vaguely to the various bits of plant life that took up the center of the room. "Summa this's prolly edible," she said, because that seemed sort of the hospitable thing to do. Even if she didn't actually own any of it. She retrieved her cigarettes, and as she lit one up she bent over her tablet to see what he'd had to say for himself in her absence.
☠» did u just threeface me
☠» how dare
☠» not telling
☠» do nothing just 2 be safe
☠» explains a lot
☠» cept y u'd lie about being ginge
☠» who'd lie about that
☠» i guess a jarbrain
☠» r these things not normal on jarbrain planet
☠» this is all v plausible where i'm from
☠» no wonder u think this is bright
☠» have u ever seen a sun
☠» any sun
The sight of all those cables and accoutrements made her claustrophobic. She didn't know how anyone could stand it. Anyone organic, anyway. At his next series of messages, she made a face. "Ugh." Rather than respond, she pushed the tablet away from herself, sliding it along the ground. He could talk to nothing for a while and like it. She pulled herself up to kneeling, having thought up a now-obvious solution to a previous problem that had eluded her when she'd been tired. She listened as Sascha spoke, though as she did so she slid her arms inside of her shirt. They emerged out of the shirt's collar, though this didn't stretch it as much as a larger person would have. She gathered up spare fabric and twisted it, tying it crudely and one-handed in a large knot beneath her breasts.
Modesty status: basically preserved. As much as a tube-top and briefs could be considered modest. "Fun'r profit?" she wondered, because Sascha didn't seem to be getting much of either out of the bargain. Certainly wasn't enjoying being hunted the way some folk she knew did, no thrill of the chase in her face or the way she spoke. She ran a hand over her hair, pulling it up off her neck and getting rid of any debris that might have accumulated. She wasn't going to be able to let her braids out until her hand was better, not unless Ix was willing to take care of it for her. Which he might.
She stood, and brushed off her legs before moving to the little artificial pond that housed a few lilies. It was really more of a fountain with delusions of grandeur, but the important part was the spigot. Say what one would about Grilka, ey was good at making sure all the amenities were available. She cupped her hand to take a sip, then splashed a little over her face for good measure. A beer really would have been nice.
"Y'just gotta, uh." Kreska made a vague gesture around her legs, presumably indicating what she would have done with the kind of voluminous skirt in question. "Tie't all up'n ya can run fine," she said. "Prolly don' wear one if ya don' hafta, tho, yeh." She gestured vaguely to the various bits of plant life that took up the center of the room. "Summa this's prolly edible," she said, because that seemed sort of the hospitable thing to do. Even if she didn't actually own any of it. She retrieved her cigarettes, and as she lit one up she bent over her tablet to see what he'd had to say for himself in her absence.
☠» did u just threeface me
☠» how dare
☠» not telling
☠» do nothing just 2 be safe
Bad Reputation [Closed] - danixiewrites - 08-11-2015
"Yeah, he really can't tell the difference. I haven't decided yet if it's by choice or just Fate." Her eyes widened when Kreska broke into laughter, and she wasn't sure she wanted to know what her handler had sent over the wire. Because it had to have been Fate who'd sent it. "Oh, geez. You can push him away all you want; he's never letting you off the hook," she added with a rueful grin.Averting her eyes as her companion continued to change her clothing status--and finding herself jealous that was an option at all--Sascha studied the strange flora around the room. Her modus operandi lay in tech, not nature, and while Kreska looked to be getting more and more comfy Sascha's muscles refused to uncoil. Worse, the sting from her flop to the ground may have left, but the itch between her shoulders that said the corporations were coming refused to quell. She was so used to watching her back--and feeling utterly blind in doing so--by now it was almost a nervous tick that she swiveled frequent looks toward the wall with the door.
"Neither," she said absently. "At least, not this time."
No, this time Fate had taken on morality in the extreme. It had been the right thing to do, saving countless lives, preventing a faceless entity from getting their hands on tech that could destroy worlds. In a way, it had felt like getting back at the people who'd taken her and tried to rip her soul to shreds--despite the fact Perseid hadn't been involved.
But it most assuredly hadn't been "fun" to run for her life from mutated science experiments and corporate puppets and bounty hunters who literally wanted to mount her head on their dashboard and at no point had she gotten what might even possibly have been misconstrued as a paycheck.
Maybe he'll come through on the liquor.
As far as consolation prizes went, if he sent enough of it, and if she consumed enough of it, she wouldn't give a drek about anything for daaaays.
"Sometimes he sends over assignments that stick it to some immoral bastard--sometimes he sends over gigs that'll pay just enough to replenish my stash packs, keep his tech running, the lights on, rent & hotel room fees covered." She sighed. "Now that you mention it though, might be time to take a break and just do some fluffy coding for a while. I could use some fun. Less...ah. Exercise."
She snickered at the idea of girding a dress around her thighs. "And then I'd get stuck in a ventilation shaft somewhere."
>>And suffocate in all that floof!
>>I'd been devastated.
>>So don't worry, princess. No fancy dresses.
Sascha rolled her eyes, then finally tapped back:
>>Have you apologized for whatever you did yet?
>>Oh yes. All is forgiven.
>>:3 fixes everything.
>>You're neurotic.
>>I'm adorable.
Fighting a tiny smile even as she tried not to worry about what trouble he might be up to when his responses fired back so short, Sascha moved her fingers over the closest plant, a starchy fern with ragged edges. For some reason, facing a green lady and pondering eating equally green leaves made her question topics of cannibalism.
--
Over on Kreska's datapad, Fate had done the exact opposite of "nothing". He'd continued with a slew of apologies, each one more grandiose and possibly more offensive than the last.
...
>>And if you forgive me,
>>I'll do up a virus to delete all this sexy evidence.
>>You know, the vids where you're SO much more
>>bendy than the strippers.
...
Bad Reputation [Closed] - Tindome - 08-12-2015
"Bluuuuh." She flopped down onto something that looked almost like moss, sprawling out with her cigarette hanging from her mouth. "Don't fuckin'– ugh." She took her cigarette out of her mouth so she could speak, exhaling smoke with her words. "Izzat why he's called that?" she demanded, sounding offended. "A fuckin' – pun, thing?"
Horrifying. Utterly horrifying.
Kreska, who was usually the more likely to be uncomfortable in new company, did not think to be defensive in the other woman's presence. She felt, as these things went, relatively safe. Not feeling quite herself, still, but better than she'd been. Her body felt better thanks to the lights, even if her brain was still worn out.
She looked to the door that kept drawing the other woman's attention. "Somethin' gets in, you'll know," she said, though she doubted that was going to stop the reflexive checking. "Ain' likely t'be one o' yours, anyhow," she added. "Hidey-hole like this, not much t'worry 'bout 'cept th'snake't owns it. Y'ain't synth'r ginge so's nothin' t'worry 'bout."
Grilka went for plenty of people that weren't either of those, but not as aggressively. She was probably fine. Kreska was more likely to be the one that held eir attention.
She made a sound of understanding with just a hint of pity, flicking ash into the moss beside her. "Kinduva robbin' hoods thing," she said, taking another drag. "Sounds exhaustin'."
She rolled around onto her side to retrieve her tablet, sliding it closer. She squinted at the discarded earpiece sitting amidst some foliage. "Ya still listenin'?" she asked it suspiciously. She skimmed down past his messages, not seeing anything of any particular interest until near the end.
☠» kk
☠» that sounds cool
☠» do that
Horrifying. Utterly horrifying.
Kreska, who was usually the more likely to be uncomfortable in new company, did not think to be defensive in the other woman's presence. She felt, as these things went, relatively safe. Not feeling quite herself, still, but better than she'd been. Her body felt better thanks to the lights, even if her brain was still worn out.
She looked to the door that kept drawing the other woman's attention. "Somethin' gets in, you'll know," she said, though she doubted that was going to stop the reflexive checking. "Ain' likely t'be one o' yours, anyhow," she added. "Hidey-hole like this, not much t'worry 'bout 'cept th'snake't owns it. Y'ain't synth'r ginge so's nothin' t'worry 'bout."
Grilka went for plenty of people that weren't either of those, but not as aggressively. She was probably fine. Kreska was more likely to be the one that held eir attention.
She made a sound of understanding with just a hint of pity, flicking ash into the moss beside her. "Kinduva robbin' hoods thing," she said, taking another drag. "Sounds exhaustin'."
She rolled around onto her side to retrieve her tablet, sliding it closer. She squinted at the discarded earpiece sitting amidst some foliage. "Ya still listenin'?" she asked it suspiciously. She skimmed down past his messages, not seeing anything of any particular interest until near the end.
☠» kk
☠» that sounds cool
☠» do that
Bad Reputation [Closed] - danixiewrites - 08-15-2015
When Fate set his mind to something he saw it through. No matter how utterly ridiculous that something was, no matter how likely it was to produce casualties--financial or mechanical, anyway...he usually at least paused to consider if flesh would be a concern. It was just too much of a hassle to return things that he'd painstakingly made sure no one would miss. Or that those who did miss them deserved to miss. But once the wheels were in motion, reprogramming AI shells, shuffling around mining bot maintenance schedules and drills, having fresh food prepared--Fate was not one to waste effort.It wasn't necessarily difficult to dissolve one of his harebrained schemes (Sass's coined phrase, not his--Fate was fucking BRILLIANT--though for some reason he couldn't help the nagging feeling that this particular one fell into the same category as using a garbage barge to crash through the ornate ceiling of a museum in order to stop a fraudulent painting from costing them millions when it went to auction...), but it was inconvenient to have to undo his own work.
So when he came up with the idea to evade bounty hunters by walking through walls/ceiling/floor/any of the above, the plan was underway before he considered alternatives. Or the consequences of property damage, given that he was going through with this regardless of who own the lease.
He was going to do it anyway, so why go through the extra effort of fact-checking?
The gossip took up his extra energy anyway, what with grumbling over Kreska's name assumptions. "Everyone always goes to the coincidence. Nevermind that probably my mother rolled with it that way on purpose..."
Fate's android was finally on the level with his charges--now all he needed was a reroute of the present audience. Which he'd use Sass's codes to provide, spoofing her typical jack commands to send a handful of meandering bots straight past the bastards hunting his friend. The android snuck as well as an android could, crossing into a unit along the backside of the one the women occupied. Fate set its security protocols up, protecting the second room along with the first even as he set the target area for the mining bots to do their thing.
As the bounty hunters moved back into their former positions around the unit Sascha and Kreska occupied, Fate sighed. "Corporate muggers. So much smarter than the average dog."
But his good humor returned as Kreska's gravelly voice rolled into his workspace. Fate grinned. "You forgive me AND you missed me. This is wonderful!"
>>Don't panic.
>>But I'm bringing in delivery.
And with that abrupt warning, he set the lasers to a low resonance, a quick burn.
Hmm. That should have blasted half the wall in on top of them.
Probably that it hadn't was a good thing for them as it wouldn't have done so with a warning label, but Fate had had PLANS. He adjusted the strength of the drills, condensed them to a smaller area rather than a door-sized entry. What is this thing made of? Quickly, he panned back through the records, dug through a hundred layers of encryption, and went far paler than usual when he realized this was one situation where fact-checking would have quickly turned his plans around. She'd mentioned a snake but he'd guessed that was more affectionate term than literal.
What--no, who--no, what, or both who/what...Fate's brain froze on those options as he calculated who the women's hideyhole belonged to. "Ah. Oh."
"Kreska-girl, you got friends in some disastrously low places." Disastrously for him, quite possibly. He didn't think 'forgiveness' was in a Krotazi's vocabulary.
It's gonna really suck to have to move AGAIN.
A hand-sized circle popped from the wall and landed with an audible splash somewhere on the other side. Cursing indicated that it maybe hadn't fallen loose but rather ejected forcefully from its former place. He twitched his eye to send a firm command to his mechanical minions, and the mining bots floated to the side to make room for a tray.
"Right-o," the android announced through the peephole (in a rather dapper accent if Fate was being...modest), "which one of you lovely ducks ordered the beer soup?"