ataraxion | voice | private access to xenogen staff

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voice | private access to xenogen staff | shortly after the jump

( this isn't exactly how enfys planned to introduce herself to the ship's network, but in fairness, enfys hadn't actually planned to do that in the first place, having not exactly been given a lot of 'figure out what the fuck' time before some more 'seriously, what the fuck' got loaded up onto her plate. she's been scrolling through for information - thanks, person who put up all that support info, you're a doll - but it's sort of a truncated quest, given that she has a very specific problem needs dealing with posthaste.

his name is ivan, and she's currently standing on his throat. )

Right, hi, so--

I have a vampire needs drying out. I had a look at the info, but I'm gonna be straight with you, I skimread because I'm in a bit of a pickle, so if I'm barking up the wrong tree, by all means, forward me the fuck on. You lot looked about right. Anyway, he's--

( she breaks off. unseen, she manhandles ivan briefly to get a look at his arm. there are some sounds that do not suggest this is an entirely pain-free enterprise. )

Number is 035 189. He's having a bad day, he should sleep it off behind a nice strong lock. I can get him there, someone just give me a bell and let me know where I'm going. Navigating from, uh, the stasis pods. Which are disgusting, in case anyone needed a reminder from fresh eyes.

Ta, much.

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I know that-- I know him.

[ Fleetingly. Sort of. Charles has seen Ivan in the department, certainly, has some understanding of his arrangements with Professor Snape -- who is not here, apparently, after some harried texting was bounced back at him -- and so.

He replies.

A little detached in tone and spirit. It was a rough jump. ]

We've the means to keep him safe. Are you sure you don't need a hand in bringing him down?

You Professor Snape? ( sorry, charles; he's still listed as the head of xenogen and you sound authoritative in your detachment. ) Enfys Llewelyn. I got this, just shoot me the directions.

Professor Xavier. Snape isn't here.

[ jfsdhkfs. Barely even processing that information for himself, he doesn't elaborate any further, and instead forwards her the directions to the science department, which he generally already has on hand. ]

Give me a ring when you're there. Head for level two.

Got it.

( she does not belabor the snape point, because-- what's there to belabor, she didn't know the guy and there aren't any relevant questions to ask about comings and goings that are going to be most expediently asked right now, while she's still standing on ivan's neck.

so she slings him over her shoulder, grunting once while she gets him into a position sustainable for the walk, and heads for the location pinged on her device.

from outside the lab, not long after; )

Open up, mate, this fucker is heavy.

Edited 2015-05-10 13:36 (UTC)

[Ivan has just resigned himself to his third death happening with no dignity whatsoever at this point. (That, and his wrist fucking hurts; who knows how long it will take to heal, on as little blood as he's been given.)

He considers muttering that he'd come along quietly, she can put him down, but it doesn't really matter at this point. He'd rather her not decide to break his other wrist too.]

[ Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

Charles at least is already there, along with other colleagues, although he vaguely wishes he wasn't; on the hierarchy of need, two labradors he feels partially responsible for wandering around without a wizard is probably pretty low on the scale between significant people in his life being gone and a newcomer dragging a deadly vampire into his laboratory, and yet.

His hair is still slick from recent showers, suffering sporadic telepathic feedback of the two very different minds on the other sides of the doors. Through the glass window, Enfys can see him approach, a sort of jaunty hop-skip in not-quite-run that doesn't convey well his mood.

Fuck! Mainly.

He waves open the door. ]

[Well this is all very...exciting. Is that the word for it? Yes. Jemma is a xenogen rookie, new to the ship with zero previous experience with vampires. But everyone has to start somewhere, don't they?

She stands to one side, watching as the door opens for the pair.]

Careful, don't strain your back.

[Jemma, please.]

You're a doll, ( is very brightly delivered to jemma, blithely unconcerned for her back but appreciative of having someone else acknowledge her hard work. perhaps afterwards a neck rub? no? okay, fine.

it isn't very dignified, the way enfys does put him down - just sort of leaning to one side and letting him go, once they're safely in the lab. she is confident, at this point, that doing so won't result in what she would very cheerfully refer to as unfortunately self-destructive behaviour, officer; he is not going to do anything stupid in arm's reach of her. beyond that--

well, that's going to be these poor bastards' problem, at least for a while. she doesn't really expect that this will be the absolute end of her involvement in this amateur hour orlok's dramatics, because that would be too easy, but babysitter she ain't. if they've got the set up to accommodate, she is more than happy to let the professionals do their...job?

the speculative once over she gives charles only looks inappropriate because that's just sort of what her face does sometimes. mostly, she's wondering if it would be rude to inquire after his credentials and authority; she is genuinely interested, but given that she's already committed to dumping the obvious reigning king of self-control in his lap, well, does that make it the most or the least appropriate time to ask? should she have in fact asked before she came here, and will it look like after the fact reluctance to actually give over responsibility if?

because she definitely doesn't want him to think better of taking the guy off her hands. no take-backs, that's the rules. )

Point him where you want him, ( she tells them, instead, magnanimously. ) He is feeling very cooperative! Aren't you, duck?

[Ivan, for the record, looks less cooperative than wrung out. He's never been on this little blood this long, and it gives him a pallid, slightly ill, look. That and his wrist, which he holds awkwardly in a half-hearted attempt to immobilize it once he's on his feet.]

I'm coming quietly, yes, [he says, bone dry and weary. He'd prefer not to be dissected while he's still conscious; he more or less expects not to survive attacking another passenger, ultimately, but he knows it could go worse or better for him even so.]

Wonderful.

[ His stare at Ivan is frank and wary, but he believes him, especially with his broken wrist, his general starved quality, and Enfys right the fuck still there. Speaking of which--

Charles points at her. ]

You can stay right there, Enfys Llewelyn. [ There's some credentials right there. ] I'll need your help a little longer.

[ Aside, to latest colleague, sternness leeched out of his voice and in place suggestion-- ]

Dr Simmons, we'll need from medical several bags of blood. They're able to generate it. If you could give the CMO a text and have him fetch it for us? He can take a look at this man's wrist, too. Ivan, yes?

This way.

[ Let's move the party down to these here manticore pens. They are not welcoming structures -- large, cage-like, made of metal and a material resembling plexiglass. ] We can find something more comfortable once we get to grips with what the hell is wrong with you. What happened, exactly?

They know me, [he says, chagrined, of the need for blood from medical.] I mean it's... I've been having bags. Most jumps.

[Whether or not he's playing up the contrition, Ivan's embarrassment is quite real.]

But for my sort of physiology bags won't - they aren't an equivalent substitute. I had a lapse, after the jump.

["Lapse" chosen with evident distaste. But, true to his word, he doesn't shy away from the pens.]

Of course, professor.

[Simmons is quick to send for the blood, following along and making observations on the wrist herself. She almost feels sorry for the man. Vampire. Manpire.]

If I might ask, what exactly is different about your physiology?

[He glances at Enfys, briefly, almost involuntarily, but it's only a moment before he looks back at the woman who must be Simmons.]

I don't know how much experience you have with vampires. I gather that some of them get along just as well on bagged or synthesized as fresh.

( having already been over the guide information, enfys knows enough to know that charles didn't get her name from a passenger manifest, which makes him immediately more interesting than the thinly veiled crisis of pride going on with the posh twat with big teeth. she raises her hands in a sort of 'what, me, no, of course' gesture, as if she completely hadn't even considered dumping her charge on them and fleeing.

of what had happened, she thinks, nothing that couldn't be solved given five minutes and some pliers, and says-- )

Bloodlust, ( both as an explanation for what happened and what he's just said. ) There's theories say it's not the blood, per se, so much as what the blood symbolizes, what is e.g. the force of life, due to what you might call a spiritually parasitical existence. He smells a bit Satan-y,

( is that a technical term )

so I do feel fairly comfortable saying that's probably the case, and furthermore, you know, why he looks like he was shat out of diseased and then hit by a particularly undiscerning truck.

( other than because she beat him nearly senseless. )

The bags probably don't do fuck all beyond the bare minimum - just enough to keep him hungry - because it's not got that extra special kick you get out of remorselessly murdering a living person.

( and yes casually talking about ivan, over ivan, as if he is irrelevant to the actual conversation. that will continue. then-- )

Oh, right, he tried to kill me.

( and that went so well for him. )

Edited 2015-05-15 12:28 (UTC)

Regardless.

[ That, to Jemma by way of Enfys. 'Fuck all' aside, it's possibly better than absolutely nothing, and if anything, it might be necessary if this investigation is to go any further than putting the vampire in a plexiglass box and hoping for the best.

Once Ivan steps inside one, Charles hesitates, taking in the incredibly spartan nature of it, before apologetically sealing him inside. There's an intercom type system that allows conversation, and this is switched on. ]

You're my first time, [ he assures Ivan, with a slant of humour. ] Does any of what she's saying make any sense to you?

[ There's a glance to Jemma, to see how her texting is going, and seeing what she's making of this. ]

It could be worth looking into more scientific properties. Perhaps there's a release of adrenaline or some such thing that does it for him, rather than pure supernatural abstraction. Even if we can't substitute the same effect exactly, we could do better than what's on hand, or even utilise magic to create the same effect.

[Ivan's expression thins, a bit, though whether it's at "looking into the scientific properties" of his nature or at "magic" isn't clear. The truth is, he'd been expecting something similar if they didn't kill him. He's not thrilled to become a science experiment - but he's not (yet) prepared to die to avoid it. After all, it's not as if he can deny Enfys' accusation.

For all he looks a mess, his response is calm, even, that lovely RP with a hint of Welsh that sounds native and isn't remotely.]

I believe she's right, that it's about life. That's the working assumption.

[And, for what it's worth, the reason he would never have voluntarily put myself on a ship in space with a finite population, had literally anyone asked his opinion on the matter.]

It doesn't need to be human, necessarily, but fresh, yes. Oh, and mind you don't try werewolf blood when you're looking into scientific properties. It's toxic, in large enough quantities.

[The glance that she casts back to the professor, eyes that are a little unsure despite the encouraging smile that she gives him, suggests that this is a first for her too. But only with vampires specifically. Working with people who were...different, that was just a part of the old job.]

If it's as simple as that, we could definitely pair blood with a shot of adrenaline. Or whatever the missing factor is. [Science first, magic second.] Would you object to us taking a sample of your blood? I wouldn't mind taking a look at it.

[Simmons hesitates, then turns back to Enfys, more than a little sheepish.]

You are alright though?

[Because 'he tried to kill me' shouldn't just be swept under the rug, no matter how much of an upper hand she ended up having.]

( enfys waves that concern away, though not without some appreciation for the fact it was there. )

I'm good, doll. He's in a right state and I've had worse.

[Ivan waits until Enfys answers, then says,] I expect a blood sample is the least I can do to prove my intent to be cooperative. Help yourself.

[He doesn't sound thrilled, but his tone is generally polite enough.]

[ derek's actually strolled into weirder scenes, but it's still not every day he runs into someone standing on a dude's neck. it at least merits a double-take. ]

You don't look like you need any help.

[ since derek would have offered on principle, in spite of his current powerless state, but. ]

Edited 2015-05-10 23:21 (UTC)

( enfys has caused weirder scenes, frankly, but this is still a little bit beyond what she'd really planned on. if she'd planned, which, as noted: not so much. her initial vague goal of quietly figuring out what the hell has more or less been sidelined, which is annoying, but on the upside, she has approximately figured out what the hell.

so there's that. she gives derek a sunny smile. )

He'd be having a better day if he'd noticed that sooner, ( a little dryly. ) You need something, champ?

Derek.

[ mildly, correcting rather than really introducing himself. social skills continue to be something derek only bothers with when he actually wants something. ]

I was going to see if you needed someone to take that off your hands.

[ technically, derek's not the right guy for the job anymore. but that has yet to stop him from plunging into danger and making these kind of offers. ]

Careful not to crush his windpipe.

( enfys doesn't have spectacular social skills herself-- she's just a lot more blithely enthusiastic about the whole thing, it sort of overshadows her sheer awkwardness for a while. so there's that. at his suggestion, or warning, or whatever it was, she glances down at ivan as if to say what windpipe? you mean this windpipe? )

It might improve him overall, ( she says, speculatively.

ivan may disagree, but he's unlikely to do so out loud, considering that not a few moments before she'd ground his wrist into the floor until it snapped. just to make a point. )

Enfys. I like to do that kind of thing on purpose, as a rule.

You like crushing windpipes deliberately?

[ is this weird to have a conversation over some dude possibly getting choked out? derek has a moment of contemplation about it but ultimately does nothing. social skills haven't leveled up that far yet. ]

There are probably better hobbies.

( is it more or less weird considering that she also isn't wearing any pants. there hasn't really been an opportunity to deal with that, considering she got jumped in the middle of getting dressed; she's thrown her jacket on over her bodysuit, but a pair of jeans is an item of clothing that you really need all available limbs for. she's not letting ivan up so he can fuck off while she's stuck halfway into some skinny jeans. enjoy the hideous claw-marks up her thigh, she does.

she laughs; it's just a laugh. there's no knowing mockery, no bleakness, it's just that derek said something funny and she laughed. it comes easy and lingers in the relaxed way she shakes it off, amused-- )

You're a treasure. What I mean is, Mr Literal, he's in no danger of that happening by accident. I'm not, ( with the easy, pleasant smile of the readily sincere, ) a hobbyist.

Edited 2015-05-15 12:17 (UTC)

[ a treasure. derek's eyebrows raise, but he doesn't say anything about it. ]

I'm sure that's comforting for him. [ dry, sparing a downward glance. ] Is someone coming to take him off your hands?

Just getting directions, ( she says, cheerfully, of that; she will be taking ivan herself, apparently. a moment later, after studying her device, she tucks it in a jacket pocket and leans down to grip ivan firmly by the shirt and haul him up, handling him with as much delicacy as a sack of potatoes and a great deal of ease as she slings him right on over her shoulder.

aside from needing to adjust her center of gravity for the added burden, this doesn't appear to be that much of a hardship. )

We are taking a field trip to some scientists, apparently.

[ derek's clearly fine with talking over ivan's head. he's enjoying this as much as she is, honestly, though he could probably do without the reminder that derek can't manage to swing anyone over his shoulders as easily as she's doing now. ]

So they can dry him out?

[ as much as derek doesn't particularly like vampires, he's also wary of what goes on in the xenogen department. ]

Or toss him in the brig?

Edited 2015-05-23 02:08 (UTC)

( enfys considers that question for a few moments, turning it over to see if it makes any more sense upon examination.

it does not, but she's a little bemused rather than derisive. )

Well, if I were gonna have him tossed in the brig, I imagine I'd be having a word with Security, what actually run it, and taking him there direct. But it seems to me that if I wanted him dead, I could do that quick and quiet here, and not slow and nasty in a cage. Not fast and stupid letting him out again when he gets quiet, gets patient.

There's no solution for this prick in solitary, big man. So either they can help him, or--

( her smile is mostly teeth. enfys has always liked werewolves, and it's mainly because there's a few things they've got in common-- she's not housebroken, quite. )

--I can.

( and problems she solves stay goddamn solved, is what she's getting at. she is taking him to xenogen because it seems like the likeliest place, and she'll be annoyed if she has to kill him in the end after taking all this trouble, but.

but not sorry, especially. )

I gave him options, mind you. Cop shop or the nerd squad. But he's not as stupid as he acts, apparently.

( tossing ivan in the brig creates more problems than it solves, staring with making the original problem exponentially worse. )

[ her teeth are too sharp. derek notices, but he's lacking the right senses to figure her out, try to understand what she is. she looks human, but derek can't sense anything beyond that with his powers gone. his jaw tightens, but he doesn't let it show beyond that. ]

Then he's probably more dangerous than he looks too.

[ vampires, man. derek doesn't trust either option, but it's not his call. ]

But I don't think I need to tell you to be careful, either.

[ she's got herself handled. for the moment, at least. ]

Many have tried, ( amiably-- to tell her to be careful.

mostly, it's just made her think she really does need to have a big bash for her fortieth. mark the fact it's even fucking happened. but that'll be sidelined, what with being in space and having to babysit this fucker. )

D'I get your name? Enfys Llewelyn.

Derek Hale.

[ though his name can't really rival hers. derek watches her for a moment, then nods, approval maybe. he's blind without his senses, can't do much more than decide in the moment that she's trustworthy, not a treat. ]

You can find me in the Oxygen Gardens.

[ not that she couldn't find out his room number if she wanted, but derek doesn't make anything easy. ]

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voice | private access to xenogen staff | shortly after the jump

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