ataraxion | [ TEXT ] in which cambridge makes a polite enquiry about her location

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[ TEXT ] in which cambridge makes a polite enquiry about her location

[ Hello, fellow crewmembers. If your device wasn’t on before IT CERTAINLY IS NOW! Cambridge - still nursing the mental wound of her power being so rudely culled and currently feeling obnoxiously disorientated - technopathically shoves a text transmission your way: ]

if somebody doesn't tell me exactly where the fuck I am then I am airlocking the whole bloody ship so help me god.

[ An idle threat, don’t you worry. If she had been at full strength then she might have attempted to slip her way through the ship’s systems but as it is she can barely switch a light off, let alone override the hundreds of security precautions that would undoubtedly stand between her and an airlock. Still, the impulse behind the threat is very real: uncertainty and fear mingled with a desperation to check that she wasn’t going mad and dreaming this all... ]

unless this is some hideously unfunny prank in which case you can all go to hell. bad form, you bastards.

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[ ...what. ]

What do you mean.

[ HAH FLIRTING no actually this is pretty much a good deal like Cambridge's flirting. ]

I know plenty of things, thank you, and I should imagine it's plenty more than what you know.

[ not that you can see it, Jenna, but Cambridge simpers in mock-amusement. hahhhhhh you so funny, bitch. ]

oh dear, everyone on this ship is so terribly amusing!

[Heatwave has only few months with human-made technology, but millions of years experience with machines.]

[Never with a Tehnopath]

[He doesn't expect her to recover so fast and the shock she sends startles him more than it actually does damage. He does the mental equivalent of reeling back, and his comm is halfway through cycling down before he catches it. Reversing the process would damage the comm, so he lets it complete its shut down and hurries it back through turning on. Then he laughs, and her voice might come through her audio in starts, stops, and static.]

You're like me!

[Now that he knows she can't get through to anything dangerous - just like him - he pulls back and works on blocking her access to his comm. No more attacking. If he has to, though, he'll try and stick her comm in an infinite loop to give him time to solidify those defenses. His irritation at her threat was gone. Now he's just excited.]

good god, I hardly touched it.

and what exactly do you suggest we do instead.

[ What gets Mouse's face to effectively 'shut up' isn't the fact that she's ragging on his name, but the question of whether or not he's got a proper one. No one in the desert ever bothered to ask, no one except Wither and Mouse had given him the finger when he did.

It feels — chastising in the way everything else she's said so far hasn't been. Mouse's head dips low and his shoulders pull up, making him look sulky. He almost sounds defensive when he tells her: ]

'Course I do.

[ Duh. ]

Edited 2011-12-08 22:22 (UTC)

Ah. [ Cambridge purses her lips and stares intently at the video feed as Oxford takes a swig of that darling little hipflask, instantly regretting not carrying around a flask of her own in her handbag. But suddenly she smiles thinly, reaching in to said handbag hanging from the crook of her arm, and produces a thin silver cigarette case. ]

I don't suppose you smoke at all?

Oh yeah?

[This is too easy. Those warning bells? Muted. Dean's going to enjoy this too much to stop now. Not when he's realized this one's feisty as anything.]

Like what?

so try not touching it at all. plenty of other tech for you to mess with.

I haven't for years, but at times like these I'm sorely tempted to rethink my habits. [ A brief pause, and a raised brow. ] Is that an invitation, or merely chatter to pass the time?

Have you done anything recently that would drive someone to do all of this to hold you prisoner?

[ ohhhhhhh good grief, has Cambridge upset this beastly little person? She stares rigidly at the video feed, awkward and vexed, and gestures in an encouragingly business-like manner. ]

Well, come on then. What is it? It'll be a damn sight more civilised than Mouse, I'm sure.

Perhaps. I work for my country's government. [ ...that's all she feels she need say to explain her situation. It's not a lie - she does work for the Ministry of Defence - but her moonlighting as a superpowered operative for a non-elected quasi-government was probably more the problem. ]

Do you have some other kind of brilliant plan, mister...?

[ She trails off expectantly, awaiting a name. ]

[ Yes, the beastly beastie is a little ruffled, but in a sulky, pouty, how-is-he-possibly-sixteen sort of way. He presses his lips together and considers giving the lady the finger but he's afraid she'll just make him feel worse. ]

S'secret. [ Okay, so maybe it's not. But he's not about to announce it over the phones where everyone can hear and start calling him that. ]

Tobias Donn. And my brilliant plan, right now, is to figure out where I am, remember what's gone fuzzy for me, and then figure out why I'm here, ma'am.

[ BEGINNING OF A BEAUTIFUL FRANDSHIP OBVS. ]

Lucky for us. It would suck to be trapped in space with Ben Stein.

could already be in hell. space hell.

Space doesn't have any air. Trying to breathe while you're in it would be pointless.

[I mean come on lady JEEZ]

no, but i've encountered people who have been.

unless you have an air tank nearby, something tells me you'll be dead too with your airlocking. eight out of ten for effort on trying to be intimidating though. caps might have made it better, since that felt like a screaming text, ms. moore.

[ way to be a nice helpful individual, tony. even better, way to make her want to do mean things to your non-technopath self. good job showing how much of a genius you are. ]

Edited 2011-12-09 07:10 (UTC)

[Derpy ex-pony who comes from a world with no cussing. But he looks friendly enough? If you don't take offense to Southern accented slow drawling simpleton language]

Whattsa bastard?

Edited 2011-12-09 14:21 (UTC)

[ Cambridge is completely certain that she doesn't want to be anything this strange fellow is. She clutches at her comms device, immaculate nails slipping against the hard plastic, and concentrates on doing exactly what Heatwave was doing as well - pulling back and furiously blocking the other technopath from accessing her device. ]

No, I certainly am not! [ Her tone is injured, defensive almost. ]

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