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-CAL- 89 percent vanity Vice Captain
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 Posted: Mon Sep 08, 2008 9:28 pm
When two friends win a dream cruise across the universe, they venture out into the wide, wild reaches of intergalactic jungles, surf in the meteor storms of Andorphine 7, and get a little too close for comfort on the animal tracks of Hellira Station #12.
Things are going swimmingly, everyone is happy, and the cruise is right on track for the tour of Sol 3. Our story begins just before the SS. Ramza decides on a column jump to their next destination. Now, the only question is what, pray tell, does Cal have in store for his little puppets?
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Posted: Tue Sep 09, 2008 2:04 am
Our story begins on one backwater planet of the great FSM's making. In these years of galactic intrigue, its people stayed firmly planted to both the ground and their beliefs of a singular world in a singular galaxy. The idea of "aliens" had never even crossed their minds.
Our story begins in the small town of Salva, its population no more than a few dozen. The people lived a quiet existence, working as hunters and traders with the nearby, larger colonies. Salva was prime location, neatly tucked into the bend of a wide river with rolling, green plains to its north and dense, rich woodland to the south. The houses were quaint, but sported a country-esque charm. Everyone in Salva knows each other, but that only adds to its appeal, as the villagers are more than accepting to strangers.
One house in particular should be brought to attention; a two-story dwelling on the edge of the river. Well, I suppose it was really a one-story dwelling, since the water mill took up the majority of the bottom floor. Nonetheless, let's take a closer look inside.
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-CAL- 89 percent vanity Vice Captain
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-CAL- 89 percent vanity Vice Captain
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Posted: Tue Sep 09, 2008 2:30 am
 The morning was crisp as the boy sat cross-legged outside of his own dwelling. His spear, tribal in its very shape and nature, lay across his lap and slowly, deliberately, he continued a steady rhythm of sliding a rough stone across its blade. When one sharpened a weapon, it was easy to cause imperfections in the blade, especially if you didn't know what you were doing, but his deft hand could tell that, even if he was young, he knew what he was doing.
Sidian Black, younger brother of the famous Jesse Black--more commonly known as Rage. Very few people actually knew of his lineage, or the fact that his family were some of the worst war mongers through history. The Black family was infamous throughout the history of Vall, appearing at the crixa of time when they were most needed. Or perhaps least needed. Now, around Salva, he was simply Sid, nothing else.
Tucking a stray hair behind his ear, the boy looked up to eye the quaint town. Not far from where he sat was the square, with a small fountain and children playing around it. As the sun beamed down, one could see that his features were that of a survivor. The boy's face, while still young and innocent, was dark from years in the sun and riddled with small, white scars. His jet black hair, bright green eyes, and slight hint of freckles across his tanned nose were all very northern features, but around here no one asked where you came from, no one asked what you wanted. As long as you posed no threat, you were welcome.
Keata was meant to come over today, so he looked for her while his head was raised, but upon seeing no flash of his peer, continued the work on his spear. Sidian's hunch back was in very much the same shape as his face, only that the scars were much larger. Long once-ago gashes that made his skin bump and raise small trails of mountain-like ridges. Yep, he was seasoned. As well as any seventeen year old could be.
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Posted: Tue Sep 09, 2008 3:16 am
 The air was crisp as Keata set out. She hated it, really, all this winter bussiness. Her family had moved here when she was younger, she forgot what age it was now, yet she'd never quite adapted to the whole winter idea. Thankfully it didn't snow here or she'd have had to taken to hibernating like the wild animals around here did. As it was she was wearing a thick jacket and fingerless gloves on this relatively mild day. The worst was behind them, spring on the way and flowers beginning to emerge from the snowy ground.
Still, she hated winter.
Keata and her family, the Anahi's, had moved to Salva from the desert regions of the world. It showed, too; their hair was a strange auburn colour, their skins a dark grown and theri eyes tawny, not to mention that there were quite a few of them. Only Keata's immidiate family had moved here permanently, and that alone was ten people: Mother, Father, the six children and two grandparents. The mass of uncles, aunts, cousins, second cousins, etc, were impossible to keep track of, let alone count. If they'd all come they'd probably have taken over Salva by sheer numbers. Despite the mass of strangely-coloured new-comers, the village had accepted them with open arms. They were hard workers and brought fresh blood to the town, who could want anything more?
For now, we'll concentrate on just one of them, Miss Keata Anahi. The girl wasn't particularly tall for her age, seventeen years a week ago, and relatively slim due to all the practise her elder brothers and grandfather put her through. Yes. Practise. Many of the girls here in Salva thought fighting was only for the boys but out in the desert - as grandfather liked to remind her - 'this damned bandits don't care what gender you are, they'll kill you dead whatever your bits!'. So she and her brother, Seth, were poked and prodded as the elder boys saw fit and run through various arobatic exercises that were signature moves of the Anahi clan. They were a speedy, bouncy, flexable lot that were damn near impossible to catch when they put their mind to it.
Most people would have approached the Black household via the front gate. Keata wasn't most people. She'd come around the back way and, spying Sidian around the front, the hyperactive girl leapt onto the water-mill's wheel and road it over to the front, leaping down to land with a very quiet squish. In a moment she'd scooted up behind him, wet hands covering his eyes.
"Guess who." She asked, lowering her voice to a deep grumble that was almost unintelligelable.
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-CAL- 89 percent vanity Vice Captain
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Posted: Tue Sep 09, 2008 3:31 am
Sidian had let his eyes drift shut as he worked. He was both like his brother and unlike him on multiple levels. True, his work was never of the precise quality and efficiency of Rage's, but he had the passion his only living relative lacked. He put his heart into what he did, and it made a difference. Concentrating on the curvature of the blade with his mind, Sid soon lost himself in a trance-like state, not noticing when Keata decided to sneak up behind him.
However, his hand caught when something pushed against his face, scraping noisily against the metal on his lap with a screech. He jolted from sheer surprise, but quickly composed himself, chuckling a little to the intruder.
"Is that you, my long, lost Eleanor?" he said dramatically, but failed to make a move in any direction. "Oh, how I have longed for the day to hear your deep, surly, manly voice once more!"
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Posted: Tue Sep 09, 2008 3:39 am
To her credit, Keata's hands remained firmly over Sidian's eye, though a girlish giggle did escape her. It didn't really matter, since Sidian knew perfectly well who it was, but it was still fun to play. If there was anything these two did, it was play.
"Oh Annabelle, how I have longed to feel you once more, to crush your tender bossom to my best!" Her arms slipped to loop around his neck in a hug, a friendly peck was stuck upon his cheek, and the girl flopped down on her back next to the boy. "Whatcha doooooing?" Her voice had gone back to its normal girlish tones.
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-CAL- 89 percent vanity Vice Captain
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Posted: Tue Sep 09, 2008 4:13 am
"Waiting for you," he replied almost immediately to the girl's query. It was the truth, after all, and the only reason he had taken to doing some work with his weapon because Keata was usually the one who made them late. Okay, not usually, but he could exaggerate a little, couldn't he?
Tossing the stone onto the ground at his feet, Sidian lifted up the spear to observe it carefully, flipping it around to hold the shaft with one hand and stabbing it into the ground next to the grinding stone. It was sharp enough to kill something, and really, that was the only thing that mattered.
"We were supposed to go to Elsa before the market started. Now we'll never find a spot," he said, smirking and looking down at her. "Sides, not like I was there last night to tire you out."
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Posted: Tue Sep 09, 2008 4:25 am
Most people would roll away or flinch at a spear being jabbed into the ground anywhere in their vicinity, but Keata simply yawned and moved a hand behind her head, grinning up at Sidian. She knew the boy wouldn't hurt her - probably didn't have the heart to - and that he had better control over that bladed stick than anyone else she knew.
"Hey, don't blame me, blame Grandpa. Apparently my backflips are akin to a floundering fish." She scowled a little, sitting up with her legs crossed before putting on the sparkly eyed act. "Oh Sid, you know I always wait up for you just in case. The mere thought of sleeping outside your strong embrace is simply too much!"
With a sharp laugh she got to her feet, hand on hip. "Well then, shall we go? Mumma made us some lunch, and Gramma and Naida want us to sell some of their jewlery if we can." It was still early really. Sure they might not be first there but a blanket could be slipped in anywhere. They knew people, after all.
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Posted: Tue Sep 09, 2008 7:45 pm
 "Would a Mr Dowey please make his way to the bridge," the pale computer voice, loaded with false cheer and merriment, came over the loud-speaker. "We've found your missing Ralliraptor. Please come to the bridge, Mr Downey."
A Ralliraptor. Locke let out a quiet snort as he settled back on one of the couches in the lounge, watching the stars fly by. It was one of those overly friendly couches, the type that moulded to your body so that whatever was you managed to twist and turn, the cushions never dug into you. Locke wasn't overly fond of them; nothing pressed against any part of you and it made you feel like you were floating, not as if you were lounging about at all. Still, it was all that was here in the way of lounges so it would have to do.
Who on earth brought any sort of raptor on a luxery cruise? He didn't even know what a Ralliraptor was, let alone know what to look out for. It was a surprise that he didn't; perhaps they were from some recently discovered planet that his parents hadn't managed to stumble across yet. Ah, his parents. You know who they are, you know what they do, they need no explaination. Locke Klause, however, might.
He's sixteen, you know. Long lankly legs to match his long lanky body. he's obviously in the prime of puberty and even has the occasional pimple to match. Messy brown hair adorns a slightly high forehead and bright green eyes hold a genuine, jovial light to them. He's a pretty enough boy - with Eryk as a father, who couldn't be? - yet his overal boyishness and cheerful disposition makes this easy to overlook when you're a bully. A pleasant fellow to be around, unless you were trying to raid his ship.
Ah, but that wouldn't be happening. He was stuck on holidays with a a fop he really didn't like, so raids were the furthest thing from his mind. Oh sure, he'd brought his swords but they were tucked away in the sideboards of his suitcase: No weapons aboard the cruise ship, thank you very much.
He was debating going in the pool. Could he really be bothered? Jaye might be lurking back in the rooms and there was no way Locke wanted to run into him more than necissary.
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Posted: Tue Sep 09, 2008 8:18 pm
Jaye didn't get what was so bloody hard about pronouncing Italian names. It was universal. Everywhere his money sent him, 'de'Medici' was pronounced in some newly twisted manner. However, he had to give this sector of the galaxy credit, "Dowey", was the most pitiful attempt he'd heard yet. He'd lost his bloody Ralliraptor that morning and had reported it quick enough (seventeen times and counting!), but they apparently didn't even remember his name.
Well. Jaye'd show them who was impressionable and who wasn't!
The sparkly pretty-boy stormed his way to the office, glaring huffily at anyone who gave him strange looks. It was his business whether or not his mum had thought it fit for him to bring a ralliraptor or not, okay?! Gosh. People were so nosey these days. With a flamboyant slam, the door to the office was open, and Jaye de'Medici was glaring down the office manager for the eighteenth time that day. The poor manager just looked like he wanted coffee.
"I thought I asked you to personally page me when you found the ralliraptor! It's my mothers!" Jaye scowled, purposefully messing up a few of the managers documents when he leaned on his desk to invade his personal space. And not in the nice 'y halo thar' way. The manager tried to speak, but Jaye wouldn't let him. How dare he speak? Jaye wasn't finished yet~! "Not to mention, you not only failed to do that task, but you forgot my name. I believe I left you a note of it?"
"Seventeen, actually."
"Seventeen notes!" Jaye screeched, "And you still, couldn't remember how to pronounce de'Medici? It's de'Medici! It's Italian!" Jaye swerved around with a scowl when he felt a hand tap his shoulder. There was some other guy there, holding a Ralliraptor and pointing to the name P. Dowey inscribed on it. With a shakey smile, he pointed to himself. "I'm Peter Dowey."
Jaye froze. Whooooopsie. Turning back slowly to the manager who was looking more exhausted than ever, and tried to give his most charming smile. "So, you'll remember then. De'Medici?"
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-CAL- 89 percent vanity Vice Captain
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Posted: Tue Sep 09, 2008 10:28 pm
Music played light from the overhead speakers, accompanying the stars in their slow, steady trek from one end of the starboard windows to the other. In a sense, the visceral atmosphere was perfect. That, however was only to last for a few moments.
Cutting off in mid-song, the Captain's voice made itself known on the speaker with a familiar ding, signifying some announcement that had to be made.
"This is your Captain speaking. Sorry for the disturbance, but we seem to have run into an asteroid belt. We apologize for the inconvenience, but please remain seated as there may be some turbulence. Thank you, and have a pleasant day."
The voice cut off, leaving the lounge in silence, and then the music came back on like nothing had ever happened.
That, however, wasn't the end of things, as soon enough a massive shock rocked the ship and caused the lights to flicker. Glasses flew off tables, couches slid across the floor, and the lounge and every other sector of the vessel was overcome by an unnaturally powerful shaking.
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Posted: Tue Sep 09, 2008 11:32 pm
The figure-moulding lounge was the only thing that saved Locke from a rather nasty colission with the window he'd been lounging next to. In fact it was clinging a bit too tightly for his liking. He managed to pull himself out of the rather grabby sofa and stumble to his feet, even with the hold still shaking like mad, before wobbling out of the lounge.
One hand reached out for the wall to steady himself as the shaking stopped for a moment. This gave him the perfect oppertunity to start running. Asteroid belt, really. Those fat merchants in the lounge might have believed it but Locke wasn't raised on a pirate ship for nothing; he recognised gunfire when he felt it. Raiders wern't common out here but they certainly wern't unheard of. Pirates? Well, no. No pirate would attack a cruise ship of all things. At least, no pirates with any dignity.
So he was running. Wobbling at a fast pace, really, as the gunfire had stuck up anew and it was difficult to keep a straight line with that going. Jaye could go to hell for all Locke really cared. Right now the kid was out to get his gun and get the hell out of here.
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-CAL- 89 percent vanity Vice Captain
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Posted: Tue Sep 09, 2008 11:58 pm
It all happened too quickly for comfort. The shaking began once more, the ship jolting powerfully to one side as the boy made his way down the corridor. Then the power cut, the Ramza switched to emergency mode, and the rooms were lit with the dim, red bulbs of low-intensity light. Explosions and gunfire sounded left and right, and in the very hall Locke was making his way down the wall blew right off.
There, two men stood one unarmed and the other with a rifle in his arms. He was fairly humanoid, but instead of the usual skin, his skin was hard and scaly, which shimmered dull in the red light. They were demons out of a nightmare, with ridges along the sides of their heads and no hair whatsoever, tongues split down the center into two, prehensile parts.
The man with the rifle barked something to the other one. Locke's translator registered nothing, so they were likely using a language block. They didn't notice the boy at first, looking in the direction he was heading himself.
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Posted: Wed Sep 10, 2008 3:58 am
It was like one of those old horror DVDs his dad collected. Yes, DVDs. Their DVD player was centuries old and quite frankly Locke was still surprised they could find parts to fix it, but he remembered one like this: some girl was running down a corridor like this on a boat that was being invaded by...something...Locke remembered she died horribly, in any case. Red lighting was never a good thing.
It seemed his fears were confirmed when he was thrown into one of the walls of the corridor. He winced, managing not to yelp on impact which was a good thing, considering the two beings that had wandered in. Ooooh bad bad bad. Alright. They hadn't seen him yet. Not everything was bad.
There was a door to his left. Slowly, slooowly, Locke reached out and pressed the doorhandle down, taking a moment in his fear to wonder why on earth such a modern ship had old fashioned door handles when fingerprints were all the rage.
The door was locked. Fingerprints or no, he couldn't get in.
Alright then. Step two. Well, his parents always did crazy things and survived, so had to have inherited some of this mad skill...right? With all the shaking and rumbling the ship was doing it didn't take a stealth-master to sneak up behind the pair. They were at ease. The gun was hanging by the taller one's arm loosely so if he timed this right....He grabbed.
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