tdm 5

[hownkai]

T E S T D R I V E

ABOARD THE MOIRA Whether adjusting to space travel has been difficult or not, there is always something to be done. From working to leisure, the Moira offers a multitude of opportunities to get to know your crewmates a bit better. Exploration of the ship is highly encouraged, but as another planet grows closer to being docked, things start to get a little hectic. You'll notice a slight change in the artificial gravity as the Moira is pulled into a gravitational field; however, more noticeable changes can be found in the overall morale as you prepare to descend. ☄ on your own There are plenty of other communal areas on the ship to explore! Pick a place, and see where it takes you. ( These scenarios can be used as in-game canon. ) ERIS — 6578 Welcome to one of the sister Eris planets. This one, unlike many of its counterparts, is incredibly high dollar. For visiting individuals, it is mandatory to wear clothes befitting of such a status. For those aboard the Moira, it means discarding work attire for the formal wear they have been provided. Characters will find the temperature moderately cold, a late fall to early winter feel, and their outwear must reflect the prestige Eris—6578 is universally known for. Any sort of trading is strictly done through computers and electronic orders--nothing hands-on as it's considered beneath the inhabitants to indulge in such outdated means of interaction. Unlike most systems, money is needed to purchase things on Eris. The captains have given the crew unlimited credits; with each transaction, simply "pay" with the MID. ( These scenarios can be used as in-game canon. ) ☄ lavish living Fine dining? The movies? Or perhaps gambling? Whatever your tastes, Eris caters to everyone and everything—the more expensive, the better. There is no limit to what can be done when one has the money to spend, and this lifestyle reflects in the people and surroundings. Even sex is a very ornate process held to the highest discretion. Feel free to indulge, but know that it isn't without its consequences. ☄ taken In its underbelly, Eris—6578's main function is the trade and trafficking of bodies for one of two purposes: to be placed in a situation where you are made to kill for another's enjoyment or are tortured and killed based on the client's personal tastes. Each scenario is designed to fit the paying customer's predilections and is often carried out in places secured and private. Remember, money is no object. Therefore, the extent of what they do or make you do has no boundaries either. OUT OF CHARACTER INFO FAQ | LOCATIONS | RESERVES | APPLICATIONS | NAVIGATION For mature or graphic content, please label. For questions, please direct them to the FAQ. As always, be kind and have fun!

Comments

[securus]

[ Adriana drew the time between his comment and her reply out longer than what was polite as she looked him over with barefaced curiosity. She thought he was roughly the same height as an Unggoy. Though doubted he nor anyone would have cared to be compared to a methane-breathing alien shock trooper and said nothing of his size. ]

Armor locked up. Must have happened after they laced my drink. [ She flexed her hands as the last bit of stiffness eased out of her muscles.

Then she did something no other Spartan did around a strange civilian - she took off her helmet. There was a soft hiss as the hermetic seal unlocked. A head of black hair, flat against her brow with sweat shook loose. The face that went along with it was young, very young, too young that it jarred with her staggering mass. ]

Following rumors until they found me. You?

[brosbeforeprose]

[He can't really tell where she's looking thanks to the giant space-age helm, but it looks like she's eyeing him up in much the same way he is her. Well, at least they're both confused. Small blessings.]

Right, laced drinks. Makes sense, that explains why I can't remember a damned... [And off comes the helm. And maybe he's lost all sense of judgement of how old humans are ever supposed to look, but her face looks like that of somebody...who isn't seven-foot-something tall. Who's too young to be that damned huge.

...He's staring. Squinting, rather, trying to figure her out. He shakes it off sharpish.] Me? Minding my own business, just taking a walk.

Out of a bar. ...Possibly after I cheated at something called baccarat. [He's almost certain he got away with that, though. Besides, if someone laced his drink, it had to be before anybody suspected him of anything. So...huh.

He looks up at the woman with shrewd interest.] Rumours?

[securus]

[ Adriana again doesn't respond right away the way a normal person would carry the thread of a conversation. Instead, her steely eyes scan the room. Points of escape. Possible surveillance. Somewhere to sit that would support her weight. These chairs looked expensive, they'd notice if one of them buckled and snapped into a pile of sad splinters.

There was a thud and shudder in the hard floor like an tremor as she drops to a low half-crouch. Even then she could look clear over Varric. The Bull would feel small standing next her. ]

They're poachers. [ She said simply, as if commenting on the weather. ] People in debt or too drunk to stand go missing, no police oversight. I just waited for them to start sniffing around me.

[ She pulled a face, it was subdued but one with clear disgust. ]

They were not subtle.

[brosbeforeprose]

[He's never met someone who so strongly reminds him of Aveline Vallen, and looking at her makes him, for a split-second, thoroughly homesick. Not just for Thedas, though it would be a start, but for Kirkwall, for those years spent running around after Hawke getting into trouble and generally ruining the city's collective day. Not that being seven-feet-tall would do anything for Aveline's reputation, come to think. She manages ten feet by sheer force of personality. Force being the operative word.

Kneeling - and the tremor of her doing so shakes him no more than can be considered dignified - doesn't do too much for the height difference, really, relatively, and he's used to tall people after four decades of being around them...but the thought behind it is appreciated all the same.]

Well...shit. [No one can be eloquent all the time.] OK, so the question is, what exactly are we being poached for...

['Nothing good' is a given. Turning away for a moment - if she was going to attack him, there's little he can do about it facing her or not - he makes a brief trip to the door. Not even a handle. He tries squinting through the crack between door and door frame. Black.] I heard a rumour around town... Couple of whispers. You know the type...

[He gestures with his knife as he draws it out of his coat.] A guy knows a guy who knows a guy who swears on his mother's shallow grave... [He slips the knife into the crack in the door. At about the level you might expect a lock to be, he actually does find resistance, but it's immune to all of his fiddling around. His tongue is between his teeth as he goes on, and there's no rushing him to get to the point here.] ...that there's a market for people. Not whorehouses...

[He takes out the knife and turns back.] You could search every little whorehouse in Eris and never see these blighters again.

And I'd bet my boots no one'll ever see us again if we don't find some way out of this first.

[securus]

I know the type. Money and sadism in excess going hand in hand in places like this.

[ Adriana replies almost too automatically when Varric asks if she knew the type; she didn't seem to realize the question had been rhetorical. This was hardly Insurrectionist controlled space and these weren't the Outer colonies, but she knew smugglers. Even if wasn't being smuggled was sensitive data and the perpetrators a little more human in appearance their patterns and methods had a predictability to it.

For the moment, she stayed crouched low and content to watch Varric to fiddle with the door with his knife. She seemed complacent enough even unnervingly so; only her eyes moved around the room. Taking it all in. Then, she nods and reaches for her helmet again.

This was what she had been trained for. Dropped far behind enemy lines with no oversight with one mission: to wreak magnificent damage. ]

We have our way out if you found the door.

[ Adriana only had to take a single stride to clear the distance to the door. Her fingers press against seam in the door. There was resistance and a lot of it as she forces a gap in the door wide enough to fit her fingers. There was a sizzling sound of wires begin to tear and fray behind the heavy layers of metal as over a quarter ton of MJOLNIR armor start praying the door apart. A sharp squeal of metal on metal with sparks shooting out of broken pistons as the doors are forcibly pushed back into their sliding mechanisms.

Adriana didn't even look like she so much as broke a sweat when she turned back to Varric and gave him a little thumbs up gesture. ]