Alex was not entirely wrong that Zasz rarely separated himself from his suit in order to cleanse himself. Again, at this point how could he considering the extent that the captain connected himself between flesh and metal? Still, there were measures against the confinement filling with a foul odor from his body's natural excretions. First off, his internal faculties were so closely regulated by machines that even under extreme circumstances his body more often than not did not need to control his temperature by releasing sweat. In the same manner, his regimented intake of solids and fluids created, well, a minimal impact in terms of waste that could be discretely removed. Regardless of those, enhancements as Zasz called them, there was likely a stale air to be found inside his enclosure that was by no means pleasant, not that he'd notice with how much time he spent inside.
His potential engineer did clean up rather nice in his opinion, in spite of her personal misgivings. The slaver preferred them small, 'them' referring to both his few allies, and marks alike. Those blazing red locks went well with her skin tone and rather abrasive personality, not that he didn't understand that his own was anything but enjoyable to be around. The bruised she carried would heal in days, but the lacerations down her back would more likely than not scar over and likely would mar her form for a lifetime. If she desired there were procedures out there to replace one's skin with a dermal microfiber weave which in sense would serve as a sort of armor to protect one's spine. That was what Zasz would have done, anyways. If not then they gave Alex character, wounds to carry from here on out to spit in the face of her captor's best efforts to break the woman.
Clearly embarrassed, though over what the man could not deduce with her color, even the slightest of a blush shone like a beacon to match her hair. Zasz did keep his lips sealed for once instead of giving a quick chide in as they walked. Reaching down he picked up her tattered remnants of her attire while aboard the Diem Vuong in one hand and letting Alex take hold of him with the other. "Of course, I get that fully. I'll try and piece together and outfit for you to wear with a bit more haste then, unless you're fine prancing about with your bits out. There isn't another soul here, so I won't judge." There would be a brief laugh from the larger fellow, both at the thought of her doing just that, but also at the fact that they were anything but alone. With how low the pitch of his voice was though, it came through the filter as a series of hums. Momentarily, he let go of his mechanic to retrieving his jacket and pants before he'd head back into the living quarters, leading Alex back over to the bed. Collecting the blanket in the same grip as her filth covered garbs, he'd pace over to the wall opposite them to push in one of the matte grey panels. Tilting out was a chute to what likely would lead to either an incinerator or another cleanser unit. Everything but his coat would tossed inside before closing it shut, but he did venture back to the bed to sit down on it for a moment.
Without so much as an explanation, the said article's pockets were emptied onto the fresh linens, and those seemingly infinite voids were shown to have quite the varied cargo. Three more packets of water tumbled out, along with handheld device the size of a beauty mirror, a crumpled pack of cigarettes along with a less damaged one, and a worn leather journal with one silver pen hooked under plain black cover. What was remained were a collection of tiny glass vials, whatever may have been in them one could not say as they were nondescript in appearance with clear fluid inside, and a data-pad that Zasz snatched up as though it were the key to what he had been doing.
"From what I've seen, and from what you've said, you and I both know that if I were to lock this door it wouldn't very well keep a mind like yours contained here for long. You are not my prisoner in any way, and I can only request that you don't leave until I return. If you do please refrain from wandering any father than the common room you were in before."
Keeping matters vague was certainly not the smartest method in trying to passively detain someone, but with how she had to have felt and was acting, some rest without the threat of another beating looming on the horizon must have sounded like a prescription to be happily taken. While he had been monologuing, his fingers had been inputting commands into the tablet which he'd then give over to the woman. "For whenever you're ready there are the schematics of the ship to pick your brain with, so you an idea of what you'd be working with." Gathering up the belongings back into his jacket he left only the hydration packs, the tablet, and the circular device which he'd then tap with a lone digit. "Two way communication, just press the button on the back of it and talk. It's a big place, I'd like for you not to find yourself lost in it if something comes up." From there he rose from his sitting position and kept his coat tucked under one arm as he departed from the bedroom. "Try and get some sleep, Alex." Would be his parting words before the barrier closed behind him.
The blueprints he put into her care were indeed quite a detailed inspection of The Greenhouse, what would be a touch outdated were the holding cells that signified that this was either a defunct, or current prison vessel. What he didn't need her questioning was why just one sector of the ship had more advanced tech running than the entire collective. Zasz would go with an abated hustle than he usually marched with, thinking that his stowaway would stay put for but a short period of time instead of roaming about.
Zasz's destination would be the only place on the craft where one might find a pair of women's clothing, and that was the prior mentioned detainment units. Like before, overhead lights illuminated the spacious deck as he entered with silent steps, the soft glow from behind transparent walls lessened with a greater source of light. Who would fit Alex best? Likely not anyone with lace and frills, even though he so loved to see his pets in such. Passing by one chamber to the next his gaze wasn't met with the usual complacent peers captives. Instead every now and then he'd catch just a faintest curve to their lips, a fire behind eyes he was not expecting to see in those kept secure for so many cycles.
Something was awry.
A hand went to the side of his thigh to remove a baton camouflaged along with his suit. With a swing it elongated to full length of two feet. In this his stride became more of a sprint down the metal plates under him, until he came to a cell that made him grit his teeth from behind his mask. Apparently the princess he had captured had a bit more fight to her than he had been led to believe, and that he had underestimated just how much heat she could put out. As Zasz ran a hand over a opening in the clear polymer that had until this point managed to keep all others inside he cursed that he'd need to shell out even more credits not only to repair the damage, but to have something designed that could not be so easily torn down through extreme temperatures. Even the defensive measures inside had been scorched, blackened beyond designation. He'd have to review the tapes at another date, but he did set his hud to scroll through the camera inputs throughout the vessel to try and triangulate the Ifrit's location. A good start were the numerous feeds that simply rang back as dead, which meant they were either offline, which didn't happen, or destroyed like the one inside her cell.
Placing the markers of the cameras over top of a layout of the ship plotted a path of her scurrying about without a clear idea of where she was heading. It did lead back the way he came though, towards the front and away from the brig. Shit, his gun was sitting out in the open, not that it would hurt him per say, but he had another to think about right now.
"What a pain." Zasz grumbled turning on his heel to make a mad dash back to the common room.
His potential engineer did clean up rather nice in his opinion, in spite of her personal misgivings. The slaver preferred them small, 'them' referring to both his few allies, and marks alike. Those blazing red locks went well with her skin tone and rather abrasive personality, not that he didn't understand that his own was anything but enjoyable to be around. The bruised she carried would heal in days, but the lacerations down her back would more likely than not scar over and likely would mar her form for a lifetime. If she desired there were procedures out there to replace one's skin with a dermal microfiber weave which in sense would serve as a sort of armor to protect one's spine. That was what Zasz would have done, anyways. If not then they gave Alex character, wounds to carry from here on out to spit in the face of her captor's best efforts to break the woman.
Clearly embarrassed, though over what the man could not deduce with her color, even the slightest of a blush shone like a beacon to match her hair. Zasz did keep his lips sealed for once instead of giving a quick chide in as they walked. Reaching down he picked up her tattered remnants of her attire while aboard the Diem Vuong in one hand and letting Alex take hold of him with the other. "Of course, I get that fully. I'll try and piece together and outfit for you to wear with a bit more haste then, unless you're fine prancing about with your bits out. There isn't another soul here, so I won't judge." There would be a brief laugh from the larger fellow, both at the thought of her doing just that, but also at the fact that they were anything but alone. With how low the pitch of his voice was though, it came through the filter as a series of hums. Momentarily, he let go of his mechanic to retrieving his jacket and pants before he'd head back into the living quarters, leading Alex back over to the bed. Collecting the blanket in the same grip as her filth covered garbs, he'd pace over to the wall opposite them to push in one of the matte grey panels. Tilting out was a chute to what likely would lead to either an incinerator or another cleanser unit. Everything but his coat would tossed inside before closing it shut, but he did venture back to the bed to sit down on it for a moment.
Without so much as an explanation, the said article's pockets were emptied onto the fresh linens, and those seemingly infinite voids were shown to have quite the varied cargo. Three more packets of water tumbled out, along with handheld device the size of a beauty mirror, a crumpled pack of cigarettes along with a less damaged one, and a worn leather journal with one silver pen hooked under plain black cover. What was remained were a collection of tiny glass vials, whatever may have been in them one could not say as they were nondescript in appearance with clear fluid inside, and a data-pad that Zasz snatched up as though it were the key to what he had been doing.
"From what I've seen, and from what you've said, you and I both know that if I were to lock this door it wouldn't very well keep a mind like yours contained here for long. You are not my prisoner in any way, and I can only request that you don't leave until I return. If you do please refrain from wandering any father than the common room you were in before."
Keeping matters vague was certainly not the smartest method in trying to passively detain someone, but with how she had to have felt and was acting, some rest without the threat of another beating looming on the horizon must have sounded like a prescription to be happily taken. While he had been monologuing, his fingers had been inputting commands into the tablet which he'd then give over to the woman. "For whenever you're ready there are the schematics of the ship to pick your brain with, so you an idea of what you'd be working with." Gathering up the belongings back into his jacket he left only the hydration packs, the tablet, and the circular device which he'd then tap with a lone digit. "Two way communication, just press the button on the back of it and talk. It's a big place, I'd like for you not to find yourself lost in it if something comes up." From there he rose from his sitting position and kept his coat tucked under one arm as he departed from the bedroom. "Try and get some sleep, Alex." Would be his parting words before the barrier closed behind him.
The blueprints he put into her care were indeed quite a detailed inspection of The Greenhouse, what would be a touch outdated were the holding cells that signified that this was either a defunct, or current prison vessel. What he didn't need her questioning was why just one sector of the ship had more advanced tech running than the entire collective. Zasz would go with an abated hustle than he usually marched with, thinking that his stowaway would stay put for but a short period of time instead of roaming about.
Zasz's destination would be the only place on the craft where one might find a pair of women's clothing, and that was the prior mentioned detainment units. Like before, overhead lights illuminated the spacious deck as he entered with silent steps, the soft glow from behind transparent walls lessened with a greater source of light. Who would fit Alex best? Likely not anyone with lace and frills, even though he so loved to see his pets in such. Passing by one chamber to the next his gaze wasn't met with the usual complacent peers captives. Instead every now and then he'd catch just a faintest curve to their lips, a fire behind eyes he was not expecting to see in those kept secure for so many cycles.
Something was awry.
A hand went to the side of his thigh to remove a baton camouflaged along with his suit. With a swing it elongated to full length of two feet. In this his stride became more of a sprint down the metal plates under him, until he came to a cell that made him grit his teeth from behind his mask. Apparently the princess he had captured had a bit more fight to her than he had been led to believe, and that he had underestimated just how much heat she could put out. As Zasz ran a hand over a opening in the clear polymer that had until this point managed to keep all others inside he cursed that he'd need to shell out even more credits not only to repair the damage, but to have something designed that could not be so easily torn down through extreme temperatures. Even the defensive measures inside had been scorched, blackened beyond designation. He'd have to review the tapes at another date, but he did set his hud to scroll through the camera inputs throughout the vessel to try and triangulate the Ifrit's location. A good start were the numerous feeds that simply rang back as dead, which meant they were either offline, which didn't happen, or destroyed like the one inside her cell.
Placing the markers of the cameras over top of a layout of the ship plotted a path of her scurrying about without a clear idea of where she was heading. It did lead back the way he came though, towards the front and away from the brig. Shit, his gun was sitting out in the open, not that it would hurt him per say, but he had another to think about right now.
"What a pain." Zasz grumbled turning on his heel to make a mad dash back to the common room.
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