Difference between revisions of "Two Ancients"

Latest revision as of 07:06, 29 May 2011

Comorro: A sleek cylinder with sharply tapered ends, about three feet long, that floats several feet in the air with the aid of repulsor jets. The avatar's hull is made of a greenish-brown organic material that's been polished to a shine. The "front" of the avatar is equipped with glittering blue-green optical receptors. Audio receiver and transmitter array antennae poke from the middle of the hull like quills on a porcupine. Recessed slots in the aft of the avatar's hull contain two sets of weapons - a pair of tangler pistols and a pair of pulse pistols.

The newest incarnation of Comorro's avatar floats within the cramped vestibule, monitoring the navigation displays.

And in comes a white furred, green eyed cat. Yesss. Nothing more than a cat. Cough. A cat who looks up to Comorro's avatar with a hint of amusement? No, that couldn't be...

A pair of pulse pistol barrels slide from the aft recesses to angle down at the feline intruder. Calmly, the avatar intones: "Identify yourself and declare your intentions. Only authorized personnel are permitted in the vestibule."

Ah, but cats can't talk, can they?! Well, this one can, actually, though only through psychic means in this form. A general broadcast follows with, ~My, you should rather be a bit nicer to the one who helped your children pass to the next life in peace, darling~ With that the feline flops down onto her side, tail thwapping at the floor with casual disregard.

Silence broken only by the intermittent beeping of the Yaralu's sensor readouts. Then, finally, the avatar replies: "There was nothing peaceful about their passage. I was there. I do not recall seeing you."

~I'm rather sure you wouldn't actually know, darling, seeing as I have been dead before and /you/ have not.~ Oh what an arrogant little brat she is, psychic laugh broadcast, ~I most certainly was there, dear one. Here, let me show you.~ Curling into herself a little bit, Anshera begins the slow, and interestingly disgusting process of shifting into her child's form, which when it's all said and done with, happens to be naked since clothing isn't included in this deal!

"The insolent child," observes the avatar, passively. "Shapeshifter. Will catalogue for future reference."

Anshera once more takes to laughing, though it is through her own vocal capabilities this time, "Child? How utterly amusing, darling. I am /ancient/, though She has heard you're not a... how do you say... spring chicken either. Shall we compare notes on how to be old ladies?"

Another burst of silence. Then: "No. What is the purpose of your visit?"

Anshera places one hand under her cheek and props herself up, the other gesturing errantly, "Why, i've come to see how you're doing, darling. We wouldn't wish you to be in such emotional turmoil for ages to come, hm?" Lies. She's come to poke and be a nuisance.

"Our course is set," the avatar replies. "Systems appear to be functioning nominally."

"My how boring. Do you never do aught for fun, darlng? You're rather all stiff and stuck up predictability, it would seem. Rather a bit like one of those robots, She would say. Dull, dull, dull." Anshera supplies with a faint sigh, "If you were a human I imagine you'd be some fat old bag who does naught more than knit."

The Yaralu's avatar whirs softly as it begins to rotate so that its optical receptors can be fixed on the ancient child. "Fun is a momentary distraction, required by short-lived lifeforms to provide entertainment and a false sense of accomplishment. I do not require such diversions."

"Incorrect." Anshera counters, "I am not short-lived, thus, darling, your assessment is quite flawed. You are simply boring and shall not acknowledge that you have nothing of interest to divert your attention on occassion."

The avatar rotates so that it no longer gazes down at the child. "Your opinion is of no consequence. I neither seek nor require your approval or agreement. If you are bored, be advised that the hatch you came through continues to function as an exit."

"My for something which has observed others for an age, you really have learned nothing." Anshera smiles in a smug, self-satisfied way, glance sent towards the door, "Oh dear no, I fear I can't go out there /naked/ now can I? And I fear I am too tired to shift again so soon." Well, she wasn't really, but multiple shifts were sure to /make/ her tired.

"I have observed others of this universe for an age," the avatar corrects calmly. "The refugees of the Kamir rifts are quite new to me. Your kind, newest of all."

"It really doesn't matter, you know. Mortal creatures all share the same fundemental reactions to certain things. They simply do not share cultures or appearances - all quite superficial. At their basest, they are the same." Anshera smugly informs Comorro with an errant gesture, "And that includes /you/."

"Indeed," the avatar replies placidly. It may be a statement, or it may be a query. Regardless, it is followed only by silence as the avatar resumes its study of the readouts.

Anshera knows yours game, sneaky, sneaky Comorro, and she will not be driven off by boredom! Why, without any of her, shall we say, handlers around, the fey is pretty keen on pushing some buttons and trying to get a reaction. Why, this time literally! The naked child gets up, and moves over to one of the consoles to start climbing up it. This would of course be easier if she'd shift into an adult, but she'd already told the avatar she couldn't do that right now!

"The controls are limited to those with the proper security codes," the avatar informs the meddling child. Its voice remains passive. "Lacking those codes, you will find few opportunities for mischief."

There's a child climbing up one of the nav consoles. A white haired child who would no doubt be familiar as a mischief maker to Jorg. Why yes, it's Anshera, and she's being a right nuisance - or trying to be, at least. Regardless of Comorro's statement to the tune of requiring security codes, the fey makes her way up and stands on the console, "Yes well, that seems rather standard. I don't imagine pouring a soda on it would matter, since you're a living ship, hm?" Not that she's tried that before with someone maybe. Cough.

Jorg steps through the door from the hub, holding a PDA in his hand and altogether looking like he has somewhere to go. The Hekayti guard spots Anshera almost immediately, and lets out a subdued sign. His PDA is tucked into his pocket as he walks over to loom behind her and see what she's up to.

Chasing around what could pretty much look like anything can be a pain. Not nothing Shinigami hasn't had to do before, but tracking a shapeshifter about a new area is more challenging. Good thing there's that nagging tingle of the that remaining necrplasmic connection to each other, so at least he knows on the right track. But now that he's here, there's the task of finding her. And he hasn't really stepped in this section of the station before.

"Jorg," the avatar intones calmly. "Certain refugees are becoming more brazen in their explorations. We shall have to revisit our security clearance procedures."

Well, people looming over her isn't anything new, so 'Shera takes Jorg's presence as if he'd come over to have a spot of tea with her. Which is to say she just keeps on doing what she's doing, since she's kinda a rude one anyway and well, if someone had come over for tea then she'd expect someone /else/ to get to making the drink anyway. Anyway! She turns to look at Jorg and after a moment, raises her hand to poke at his chest.

"Yes, M'am." Jorg replies respectfully to Comorro. He doesn't react to Anshera poking him, but he does take the opportunity to grab her arm. "Child." He states in a severa tone. "What have you been doing to trouble Comorro?"

Trouble. Child. Those two words together usually spells one thing to Shinigami. Those two little candlepoints for 'eyes' flicker over to Shera's location. Ah, that makes sense. Grey boots begin to carry him towards the fey. "Anshera." he monotones. "This is where you have been."

The avatar seems content to let the two newcomers focus their energies on the impish ancient. The navigation displays won't monitor themselves, will they? Well. Probably. But still.

"One was simply making conversation." Like anyone will believe that, 'Shera. Why, it's almost like she's a compulsive liar. She doesn't bother trying to pull her arm free from the security chief's grasp, likely because she knows it's an exercise in futility, "Shini, darling." Yeah, that lie about how she couldn't shift right now? Totally dispelled with the way she starts to now, eventually to end up a full grown, if still somewhat small, woman crouched upon the console. /Now/ she's a bit tired from it.

Jorg has probably seen weirder things. If not, he makes a good show of acting as if he has. Without letting go of Anshera, he turns to the new arrival, giving the masked man a measuring look. "Are you responsible for this one?" He asks, politely, but gives Anshera a less-than-polite tug on her arm as he does so. "If so, I will suggest you discipline her more firmly in the future."

"I am the one that guards over her, yes." Shinigami replies. Looking over where she's been, his head tilts at her Shera before looking up to Jorg. "Has she damaged much this time? These ancient creatures. They get a little...eccentric."

"She was unable to cause any harm," the avatar replies simply.

Anshera stumbles forward and off the console as she's tugged harshly by Jorg, and while it may seem she'll achieve a decent landing, her legs feel a bit woobly from the shifting and she instead sinks to the ground with a bit of a thud, held arm still raised of course, "Eccentric? Well know, I don't believe i've been called that before." Despite the realtively cheerful lilt of her drawl, she frowns at the fact that she's got jelly legs.

Jorg's attention is directed back to the stumbling Anshera. Quite stoically, he bends down and scoops her up, not seeming much bothered whether she's child-size or woman-sized, and carries her over to Shinigami. The security officer rather unceremoniously dumps the girl in Shinigami's arms.

Only the most quiet of sighs escapes him, shrugging off his gray longcoat and wrapping the smaller woman up in when she's dumped into the fallen angel's arms. "I see you have not ceased to be a pain in the mortal's sides." he observes. "Am I going to have to pay a fine here too? I cannot remember the saying, but there is something a cat being curious that I believe relates to you. Or was that something about a cat and a canary? I forget." Shinigami claims.

"She was a cat, at first," the avatar offers. "Can she also become a canary?"

Anshera is not so naked anymore! Heavens be praised or something, "Curiosity killed the cat, perhaps? I do not know any relating to canaries, however." The matter of a possible fine is left to Jorg to answer, jade eyes shifting back to the avatar, "I can become many things, darling."

"I am skeptical as to whether a fine would have any weight." Jorg says with a slight frown. "It would be for the best if you could suggest a more effective punishment."

"To my eternal annoyance, yes." Shinigami confirms. "I had forgotten what it was like to chase her in multiple forms. It was much more difficult when she could turn into anything she wished as many times as she wished." Looking down at Shera, he considers. "I think I have something in mind for her." That sounds no like no fun coming from him.

Jorg looks from Shinigami to Anshera, and back. "Do you think she requires a psionic limiter?" He asks helpfully. "That is the usual response when psionic beings are using their powers to cause trouble."

"I have studied the ancient seafaring habits of the Terran refugees," the Yaralu avatar interjects. "At times, they punished insolent personnel by dragging them below the hull of the vessel. I might be convinced."

"That's called keelhauling, darling." She would know, she lived through an era with pirates! ... And might have personal experience of a sort, "And t'is rather not a punishment as a death sentence." Then she looks up to Shinigami with wide eyes, the woman trying to melt his heart, just a leeeettle, "Whatever are you going to do, dearest?"

The frozen grimace of Shinigami's mask mirrors his own if it were visible. "Try to be cute and innocent all you like, but you know me better than that." Looking up between the avatar and Jorg, his head titls again. "While tempting, she would enjoy death far too much. And I refuse to let her off so easily. No. She's has taken such a liking to since he return to being mortal, I will be forced to take away the sweets she's been indulging on." He pauses to let that sink in for the fey. "A strange punishment, but for an equally strange creature such as her, it is fitting, trust me."

"Ultimately, the punishment is not my concern," the avatar responds. "So long as you remove her from the vestibule, I will be appeased." Jorg folds his hands behind his back and gives Shinigami a nod of his horned head. "Very well." He says pleasantly. "I do hope you are successful and can prevent future incidents." He looks to the avatar, bows slightly, and then gestures towards the door. "For the moment, at least, please do as Comorro says."

Anshera looks... mortified! "Oh! Darling, how cruel!" Why, Naoi'd probably be awful proud of Shinigami right now. Well, at least she hopes her secret stashes haven't been discovered, but seeing as how well Shinigami knows her, it's safe to say he'd probably anticipate that too, "I shall simply starve without them, you know."

"Now you're being ridiculous." Shinigami shakes his head, turning to leave the vestibule. "But let us leave before you infringe on something else. I would rather not have to converse with you through a cage or box or something like that." Thankfull that they're getting off as light as they are, he'll make quick steps to get out while the gettings good. "I will consider it if you promise to behave yourself. Chasing you down has become more difficult."

Jorg claps Shinigami on the shoulder. "Very good. I'll appreciate you keeping her from causing any more trouble, if you can." He moves to escort the two of them out into the main area, before continuing about his business. "Thank you for your cooperation," the avatar intones.

Behaving is so haaaaaard. There is definitely a pout to her lips, even as she snuggles against Shinigami's chest, "Must I really?" She asks with just a smidgen of hope that this is one of those strange dreams she's prone to having, "Behaving is rather no fun at all." And whoosh! She's carried off.