Nov 17, 2017
STARTER CALL. If you want a personalized starter from Eretreia (or, actually, Eliana Reyes) in the MATRIX/AU WORLD, like this post!
seen from Germany
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from Australia
seen from Türkiye
seen from Türkiye
seen from Canada
seen from Italy
seen from Ecuador
seen from China
seen from Russia
seen from Canada
seen from China
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
STARTER CALL. If you want a personalized starter from Eretreia (or, actually, Eliana Reyes) in the MATRIX/AU WORLD, like this post!
Date: August 30th 2:30am Location: SSV Concord (Medical Bay) Status: Open
Her frame was illuminated by the starlight as she stood with her back the the bridge, staring out into the endless abyss. Nyena’s arms were wrapped around her torso tightly, her body so still you might have missed her in the darkness. The world was darker without her synthetic eye. She wanted to rip the useless thing right out of her skull, but Cypress had insisted it remain in. Most of the crew was asleep in the quarters, the ones who weren’t pushing through their injuries in the med bay. Half of her team was still bed bound, barely able to stand after their narrow escape. Subconsciously she clenched her jaw. She didn’t sign up for this shit. This was suppose to be easy money, just a major payday that would get her set for life. She was not a god damn solider.
The gentle hum of the ship filled the air, the rare quiet allowing her to finally have a moment to think. They were only a day away from Wrotham, and Nyena couldn’t ignore the feeling that had begun clawing through her chest the minute she had awoken in the med bay a few days ago. She need get the fuck off this ship, away from these people, and not look back. What was she risking her life for? She didn’t need this. The unending throbbing radiating from the gash that ran down her face made that painfully clear.
Her thoughts were disrupted by the the quiet whoosh of the doors to the bridge sliding open. Turning her head just slightly, she locked eyes with the form approaching, leveling them with a hard gaze before turning back to gaze out into the stars once more. “You’re up late,” she exhaled, eyes still looking out onto the endless night horizon of space.
Date: Matrix Time, 19.00pm Location: The Crown Status: Open
Most of the ultra-rich grumble that gambling lost its edge. What’s the point in playing a game without risk? I’ll still be wealthy by the end. Close-minded fools could never see that the exposure to danger was a bad thing. Control was where it counted. You could make an Empire out of the ability to tug at the strings and see the puppets pulled into place. In Wrotham there is one master who sits on a throne higher than the others. God, some whisper. Demon, others utter, quietly. But the figure in question isn’t afraid. Both creatures are immortal. And that, after all, is what counts. They wouldn’t be a Voix otherwise.
A titanium hand tosses the chips up and down in the air, waiting with indifference for the table to fill up. At the shuffle of a chair, Orion shoots an icy glare across the table. When they speak, it is like winter, the way it once was on earth, with howling winds and snow storms. “Are you sure you want to play? I have to warn you. I don’t lose.”
meanwhile, over the comms...
Pyre: Testing.. testing.. Group one is in position to pursue. Does anyone copy? Over.
Location: SSV Concord ;; Time: 08:04 A.M. ;; Date: 25.08.2178
“Fucking damn it,“ she growled, tossing aside some stupid encyclopedia, probably a possession of Alyx. She focused on the table in front of her, hands resting on it and ponytail tightly knit. The search for her ring -- ‘the leecher’, as she liked to call it -- was no success, time cutting short with each second and her nerves tingling. Cosima looked for it everywhere -- the stashes of alcohol which were usually emptied by Thane and Raven, Augustus’ disgusting little cabinet, the Cargo Bay and even Pyre’s jackets. Nothing, nada -- gone.
Her eyes could almost focus on the fine details of the planet, golden yellow and deep orange mixing into something beautiful and authentic, but right now, her creation was much more important. Cosima shook her head, a disapproving frown on her face. “I can’t believe that even for a second I thought it’s my fault,“ she turned around on her heels, the air almost turning her hair into a whiplash for whoever stood beside her. “Someone stole it. Perfectly logical.“ Her arms settled in front of her chest and her eyes questioned. “Have you seen... an oddly peculiar ring around?“
location & date: mess hall of the ssv concord; august 9th, 2178. status: open
She could remember being full of promise once. Not for a particularly long time in all thirty-five years of her life combined, but for a time nonetheless. She remembered being full of promise but couldn’t remember what it felt like. Did it have a taste? A feeling? Was it simply knowing that doors had yet to open and yet to close? She wondered, as she brushed her bottom lip across the mouth of her metal mug, if being full of promise only meant free of disappointment. Of regrets. Of what-ifs.
The ship had landed back on Wrotham, but she wasn’t in any hurry to embark into Krenel just yet. What was she supposed to do? Six months ago she had packed up her studio apartment and moved everything onto the ship. She hadn’t spoken to her parents in the year -- no, longer, two years -- since Lena’s death. She didn’t need to pick up her shipment of supplies -- and maybe a fresh case of some ‘recreational beverage’. The only thing that she could imagine was stopping by Eden, seeing some of the girls there. How exhausting, she thought, to always be surrounded by people. Raven slouched down in the chair and took four deep glugs to finish her drink.
But if she was craving solitude why was she feeling so antsy without the crew all abuzz? So bored. Maybe it was just because, for the first time since Lena died, she was no longer accustomed to the quiet. With the ship docked the humming of the motor had died down and the voices were in and out as people went about their day planet side. Almost mechanically, she reached forward and poured the rest of the bottle of dire sling into her mug.
Raven looked up, not expecting to see anything except anything aside from the tiny plant she had taken with her from the greenroom and the bottle she was trying her hardest to finish. Instead, she saw a figure illuminated in the half-lit mess. She let out a high-pitched yelp.
“Jesus. Ok. I’m going to need you to announce your presence from now on.”
//: LOADING INFORMATION... DATE & LOCATION: august 9th, 2178. landing pad of the ssv concord. TARGET STATUS: open to all
It was strange, that a princess should feel so out of place upon landing at her own court. And yet, here she was, standing on her home planet in a city that was entirely different than the one she was used to. Yellow curls ruffled, tucked into the drab grey clothes she’d borrowed from one of the crew members, coarser than anything she’d ever worn before. It itched at her synthetic skin, but she kept it on stubbornly. She was supposed to be dead, after all, and in the unlikely chance that one of her father’s corporate crones was walking around, she did not want to be spotted.
Still, the city afar was bustling, gleaming with activity and raw culture that Seneca had never been exposed to before. She couldn’t help but hover next to the SSV Concord, teetering precariously, trying to decide whether to take the next step or not.
This... This was new, and a little scary. There was the fear of being recognised, of course, but there was also the fear of going completely unnoticed... that in the end, she’d been nothing but a blip on the radar, someone insignificant in a crowd of thousands. Or, even scarier still, she’d finally see just how many lies her parents had twisted about the real world.
She bit her lip, eyes never leaving the city lights as she spoke. “Is it worth it, then? Going out? Or is it better to go back inside?”
LOCATION: an alleyway in Crest DATE & TIME: August 11th, 2178, 11:30 pm STATUS: available
A hybrid, a synthetic, two organics and a crowd of variable nature coils around them; howling like wolves and revealing the barbarity of their inner selves. One organic is curled inwards, the other mottled blue-black with a grin stretched at every corner – he strikes outwards at the hybrid, spits the blood from his mottled lip and heckles the audience in return. They are wild, feverish, emanating an energy Kallia has long since savoured.
The alleyway, lit by both moonlight and torched barrels, is something like the inside of a survivor’s heart – dark, bleeding with an inferno of both fury and passion. She has been here long since the tangerine sun dipped behind brickwork, trading bets with the anonymous and observing the onslaught which pulled laughter from her throat.
Beasts have long ceased to unnerve her, her own self symmetrical under most light.
She lays claim to another’s liquor bottle, snatches it from the clasp of a mountainous figure, and ignores the bitch which slithers out from clenched teeth. The thick dark of this late hour distorts them somewhat, but their features remain ingrained against her skull – she will recall them in moments to come. For now, her attention is elsewhere, the exchange before her far more pivotal.
“Bet’s on the synthetic,” she speaks without warning. “Five minutes and they’ll be carrying their head like a new purse.”