ataraxion | voice | a call for help

Entry tags:

voice | a call for help

[ If he could have posted a video message then he would but, between standing over Bass's unconscious body, the still-drawn lightsaber and the mask he has yet to remove, Quin settles for voice. His tone is terse and grim, punctuated by a slight breathlessness and the familiar bassline hum of an ignited lightsaber in the background. ]

I need the security militia. Corridor one-one-three-eight. [ SHUT UP POP CULTURE NERDS it's a totally normal number. ] Weapons aren't needed...

[ A pause for reflection, then: ]

But a medic is.

[ yet another pause before he gruffly adds: ]

Obi-Wan. You too.

[ OPEN TO ACTION: Quinlan will be found pretty much sitting on top of a very unconscious Bass (also minus one arm). Only one thread for hauling Bass's body away to the brig, please - all other arrivals after that will find Quinlan alone after Bass has been taken away! ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

It is relevant. [ His tone is terse - but not for Edgeworth's sake. Quinlan just always sounds like that. :'| And then, to answer his other questions and explain the interest: ] He was violent enough for me to want to know that this ship's brig is secure.

[Ah. With a nod:]

We've no records of it failing.

Good. [ He sounds satisfied. For now. Unseen, the grip on the lightsaber shifts as he thinks. ] Where shall I report to for the statement?

Do you know where the security office is?

[ There's a quirk to his lips that doesn't quite reach as far as the audio feed as Quinlan quietly replies: ]

I'm sure I can figure it out.

Good. My name is Miles Edgeworth; I'm the one you'll most likely find there. If not, ask for me.

Miles Edgeworth. [ He repeats the name, as if to test it out, then nods silently on his end of the audio feed. ] My name is Quinlan Vos. I will come for you when this is done.

[ooc: Do you want to action-log this my dear Jedi]

My thanks.

[ It's a few hours later that Quinlan finds himself turning in the direction of the security offices, lightsaber at his hip and minus his mask. There's a dark shimmer of frustration in his chest at how, in retrospect, he realises that perhaps he shouldn't have given his mask so easily to Obi-Wan. It was a part of him - a part of him that had been dark and welcoming, an easy path to a well of strength that he hadn't realised he'd fought so hard to ignore for no good reason. The thought leaves him feeling irritable and fiercely impassive as he strides in to the security office and casts a grim eye over the occupants. ]

I'm looking for Miles Edgeworth.

Here.

[Edgeworth looks up, lifting his chin, but he doesn't stand. This is a calculated move; he isn't certain what to expect from this man, what sort of person he'll be, but he does need cooperation from him. Most people are willing to cooperate more with someone who looks busy and important than with someone who's welcoming and solicitous, so, not knowing whom he's dealing with, Edgeworth defaults back to the former.

Therefore, a moment later, he's going back to typing, nodding at the chair across from his desk.]

Please take a seat.

[ Dark eyes sweep the room, taking in every detail, before slowly settling on the brisk, upright figure behind the desk. Edgeworth is younger than Quinlan was expecting - but then again, that was starting to become something of a theme for his time on board the Tranquility for Quinlan.

Arms loose at his side and shoulders squared back, Quinlan smoothly crosses the office and hooks an ankle around the chair to drag it a little further away from the desk. Unshaven and definitely on the burly side of rugged, Quinlan seems to take up a little more space than strictly necessary as he unfolds himself in to the seat and slowly crosses his bare arms over his chest. ]

I'm here to make my report. What do you need to now?

[There's one moment, however, in which Edgeworth's expression (cool, impersonal, professional) falters - when his eyes fall on the lightsaber clipped to Quinlan's belt. And in that moment, it clicks - Edgeworth knows where he's heard that name before, Quinlan Vos - Obi-Wan had mentioned it -

And he looks up, his eyes for just a moment a little bit too wide, and his voice a little bit too quick as he blurts out:]

Sir, are you a Jedi?

[ Quin doesn't need to be a Jedi to see how the demeanour of the young man sitting before him fractures on seeing his lightsaber at his hip - but it certainly helps. The minute little undercurrents in the Force shift and Quinlan raises one impassively laconic eyebrow as Edgeworth blurts forth his question. ]

Depends who you ask.

[ A gruff, self-deprecating response that covers more inner turmoil than Quinlan would care to show. ]

You've heard of the Jedi Order?

[An unacceptable answer would be As a child I once sat and attempted to design a test that would allow me to measure my own midichlorian level. He goes with one more reasonable: taking a moment to fix his normal impassive expression on his face, taking another moment to cross his arms, taking a third to nod.]

I've become acquainted with a Mr. Obi-Wan Kenobi. He's told me a bit about it.

[ It's odd to think of what Obi-Wan must have said to the man before him. The Jedi Order that Obi-Wan left before he arrived is so very different to the one that Quinlan knows - and not just in terms of numbers. It was a battered and bruised Jedi Order that sent Padawans in to the fields of battle as commanders of clone armies and made Knights and Masters in to spies and informants. A rawer Order, spread thin across the galaxy and battling as many divisions within as it was without.

But all of this Quin keeps to himself. His expression doesn't change, he makes no sign of understanding or recognition. ]

In which case, yes. [ A beat and a fractional dip of his head. ] Jedi.

I see.

[He clears his throat and then makes a good show of pretending to type something. Easier to preserve his dignity if he's able to pretend that it was a question relevant to security.]

Very well. First, I'll take your name down - may I confirm the spelling? Q-U-I-N-L-A-N V-O-S-S?

V-O-S.

[ Vev-osk-senth is what he says, but the end product is the same. Quinlan leans a little further back in to his chair, leather breastplate creaking, and settles before continuing. ]

Passenger number zero-one-one, one-eight-one. No departmental prefix code.

...Very well.

[That at least is legitimate information he needs.]

Please describe how the incident began.

[ He takes a breath and sits forward, hands clasped and eyes staring unseeingly at some unknown speck on Edgeworth's desk as he concentrates. Quinlan relaxes his mind and focuses - the Force does the rest. A perfect recall, an innate knowingness. It's as if the whole scene is set before him once again. ]

Deck one-one-three-eight, two standard hours ago. I was patrolling, heading towards the aft of the ship. I felt the attacker - "Bass" - in the shadows and allowed him to come forwards. He moved to attack me. - He said nothing, but I knew his intent - [ He lifts his eyes, catching Edgeworth's gaze as he stresses: ] He wanted to do me harm.

[Edgeworth's hands leave his keyboard; he needs to get a better sense of the incident before he knows which details to include, which ones are vital. Which, granted, makes him look less busy and important, yes, but it's not like a Jedi wouldn't be able to see through such illusions.]

How did you know his intent, sir?

I felt it, [ He says with a gruff, frank simplicity that makes Bass's intentions sound as plain as a greeting card. ] Rage, desperation and a great hunger. He wanted to destroy, to consume. [ A pause. ] He would have killed me, given the chance.

[There's a tension in Edgeworth's mouth, a furrow in his brow.]

Who attacked first?

He tried to.

[ Quinlan leans back again, tone cool and purposefully enunciated as he stresses again: ]

But I didn't allow him. So if you are asking who made the first strike, then I did.

[The troubled look doesn't fade from Edgeworth's face.]

Explain by what you mean by "he tried to."

[ He narrows his eyes, turning his head fractionally so he can look at Edgeworth straight on. ]

He moved towards me. [ Pause. ] Unarmed, but prepared to attack. To kill.

[voice, filtered to Quinlan/Obi-Wan/security/medical]

[voice, filtered to Quinlan/Obi-Wan/security/medical]

[voice, filtered to Quinlan/Obi-Wan/security/medical]

[voice, filtered to Quinlan/Obi-Wan/security/medical]

[voice, filtered to Quinlan/Obi-Wan/security/medical]

[voice, filtered to Quinlan/Obi-Wan/security/medical]

[voice, filtered to Quinlan/Obi-Wan/security/medical]

[voice, filtered to Quinlan/Obi-Wan/security/medical]

[ action ] yes please! if you don't mind, that is?

[ action ] oh my goodness are you kidding, do I mind

[ action ] aw fabulous <3

[ action ]

[ action ]

[ action ]

[ action ] LMAO OH MY GOD edgeworth that is adorable :c

[ action ] You have automatic cool points in his book, Quinlan

[ action ] ohhh let's see how long they'll last then :'|

[ action ]

[ action ]

[ action ]

[ action ]

[ action ]

no subject

no subject

no subject