[Prologue] Downrider

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She gave the short woman another greatful smile before a nod of the head before getting back to her work of weaving around people while picking up scattered arrows. But the process would halt soon after she started again as another figure joined the group, announcing who they were.

"Ah! The captain!" Aurora exclaimed as she stopped her arrow hunt and instead rose up to look to see her. Just as she went to intoduce herself to the woman known as Dalhia, a solid arm would come down around her shoulders, jarring the female, ber smile turning to a sour, tight frown as her teeth grit.

Craning her neck, she would find some scruffy weirdo whom the arm was attached to. The elf swayed a bit as the man suddnely put his weight on her, leaning down. With a tight smile, she would look back to the captain, mouth open to introduce herself, when the man hanging on her suddenly jumped in and introduced the elf for her.

"Tck!" The elf made a sound of annoyance and waited for the strange man to finally quit talking. When he kept droning on, she interupted with a loud voice. "Herlynn, it's..it's Herlynn." She says as she tries to tactfully shove off the mans arm but has little luck doing so.

Luckly, it would just be a moment later that he finally released her. The elf's nose wrinkled at the smell of smoke on the man's clothes, giving her a funny sort of face since she still held that tight smile.

Her face would relax again as she got a breath of fresh air, the scent of pine forest heavy in the breeze. A shiver would suddenly go through the elf, making her whole body quake for a moment. She blinks with wide eyes after it's finished, giving a sheepish smile. "Heh, sorry to keep anyone out here in the cold! Please, please don't wait for me. I'll finish collecting my arrows and be right in."
 
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Miko had already started to step away from the group now that the crises at hand had passed. He could not help but chuckle to himself as even he got sweep up in the moment and white knight to the rescue to the down Elf. Granted he did get a souvenir from the ordeal as he closed his overcoat over the arrow he had tucked away.

He flipped a cigarette out of the pack he pulled from the front of his coat. He flicked it into his mouth and lit the tip with what looked like a blow torch. After a few puffs on it he took it out of his mouth and looked at it. He then looked to the ground and noticed a spot on the pavement. I wonder if that is fuel. He thought to himself as the cig left his hand and landed on the patch on the ground.

As he walked away the small patch on the ground flared up into a little fireball. He grinned as he made his way to the ship and follow after Juryrig.
 
Dahlia cut a glance over at Juryrig as he walked away, leaving the newfound elf behind him. After thinking for a minute, she turned to face the elf again. "You;'re fine! If you're interested in joining in on the expedition, you're in time."

The captain turned away, letting Aurora finish picking up her arrows. Again she spoke up to the dispersed crowd, like a herd of colorful sheep. "Feel free to take a look inside the ship. We won't be leaving until morning, so don't worry if you're not packed." That being said, the scholar tugged their train of supplied into the now open aft of the ship. The interior of the ship was about as lackluster but functional as the rest of the ship. No space was left unused by the design, that was for sure. Nestled inside its hull was a moderately-sized cargo bay that could fit a truck or two, as well as a room dedicated to the compact generator that looked more like a civilian model than military. A few small conduits ran from the outside of the room to the engines, and other technical systems.

There was a small commons area connected to the cargo bay by a slim hallway. It gave an air of coziness (whether it was cramped or not was up for debate), composed of a few worn seats and a long table, around the amount of floor space one would expect in a camper RV. The walls were a light tan in color, which matched the beaten-flat carpet that laid atop the tile floor of the room. The half-open galley was stocked with the basic, cheapest brands of foods and had a few appliances: sink, oven, range, fridge, freezer, toaster. The works. The crew quarters were located on the lower deck, and could be best described as function over form. They were comprised of a few bunk beds that sat bolted to the wall, with fold-out space dividers between each set. The crew 's daily storage were to be stored overhead cabinets and in hideaway compartments cut into the floor. A lengthy look around revealed that the ship had two bathrooms, one with a newer pair stand-up showers. Strangely, everywhere common in this ship carried the smell of pumpkin pie.

The "bridge" sat at one end of the ship and was just a little bit larger than the average airliner cockpit. There, two black leather seats were built onto floor tracks, which wrapped around a whole array of controls and monitors. A quick look inside showed that the only systems online were the passive ones and the one dedicated to the ships power generator. The ship also had a fresh, albeit basic communications array. While the ship did have a consumer-grade shield pre-installed, the ship seemed to be almost completely unarmed. That may be an issue given the space they're going into. Worst comes to worst, there were a few escape pods crammed into the underside of the ship.

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Dahlia eventually made her way to the commons area, looking around as people made their way in and out and about the ship. The human took a seat in one of the chairs by the hallway that lead to the bridge, beside an emergency kit and a control panel that had a cracked screen. After sitting by it for a few minutes, curiosity got the best of her. She tinkered around with the panel, sending a crackly broadcast across the small speakers stuffed around the ceiling of the ship. "This is... your captain speaking! If you brought anything with you, go ahead and find a place to store it either in the cargo bay or in the cabin! We will be leaving at noon tomorrow, so make sure to have your things ready to go by then."

She looked at a small manual, and began reading off a few notes. "No combustibles, chemical reactants, or otherwise unstable materials should be stored outside of a provided storage container in the cargo bay!" The message was to everyone, but some knew exactly who it was meant for. "If you came from far but don't want to sleep here tonight, the Inn also has rooms!" With that captains note out of the way, she returned to her seat for a rest, keeping an eye out for any others who had questions.
 
Marie quickly claimed a cabin, hoping no one nuts came in to claim it beside her.

"Alright...reactor room's over there, I guess that could be engineering..." she muttered as she dropped her tools off there. She took out a piece of paper and started writing down work orders, humming a few tunes.
Work Order
(by Marie)
DO THESE IN ORDER PLEASE​

  1. Get this ship some guns. DON'T MAKE THEM IN HERE.
  2. Needs a better generator.
  3. Needs a better shield.
  4. Cloak, maybe?
When she was finished, she stuck it to the wall. That seemed fair enough for the crew to handle. Now, to sleep...

She changed out of her clothes into some nightgowns, and passed out in her bunk.
 
Reman came out from exploring the internals to grab his stuff and deposit it inside the ship. He placed his measly belongings in the cargo hold, and leaves only his journal, and some large railroad-spike shaped object in his pocket. With that out of the way, he looked at the memo on the wall, and opened his journal to a page with a crude, makeshift cloaking device.

"That last one is doable, but we still need some extra pieces to fix this up. If we stop anywhere, let's get a portable power source." While he's saying this, he checked ship inventory to see what kind of food and other bits the crew had for the flight. His immediate thought afterwards is to find a place to sit down, before everyone else got in. "Alright. Ready to go. Let's go see what these ruins are all about."
 
Deimos was surprised that the inside still had a semblance of livability after seeing the outside. In all honesty, it wasn't much smaller than the Apartment he had come to call a home the past few years. At least the ship smelled better. He made no comment, only turned on his heel and began trotting towards the Inn that they had met in earlier. Perhaps a walk alone would be healthy for him before spending who knows how long on a ship full of eccentrics.

It was surprising how quiet things could get when you're not surrounded by patrons of an inn or new crewmates bustling about and leaping before they even looked. As far as the man could tell, they probably didn't have much expeditionary experience under their belts. The crickets were still cooing despite the early morning sun on its way, though still not peeking over the horizon.

Back at the Inn, he would see the stool he sat in before still vacant, and his tattered leather duffel was still propped up against the bar. There wasn't much in it. He traveled light, and laundromats weren't too expensive. He grabbed a hold of its strap and slung it over his shoulder. They weren't traveling until the next day, leaving more than 24 hours for him to prepare. He thought maybe it would be a good time to take a nap in the cabins of the ship just to make acclimation to the beds an easier task over the course of the voyage. All he could hope for is that nobody blows anything up or that he doesn't wind up getting noisy or creepy roommates.
 
Oliver was glad to finally be boarding the ship and finding a place to put his bags, if he'd had any to find a place for and instead went for a wander around the ship and soon found himself in the galley. Looking around he was surprised to see all the various pieces of equipment, but the cheap food was a little bit of a let down. "Well that can always be fixed with a little effort, I'll have to speak to Dahlia about a the food budget."

Going through the stock he noticed that although cheap there was a lot of it and quite a range of foods, grabbing a bag of spaghetti and a saucepan along with a jar of tomato bolognese sauce he set to work cooking himself a small snack. While he could just make it himself Oliver enjoyed the time that real cooking took and would choose to over using his magic, looking around he couldn't see anyone else for the moment and was glad for the solitude for the time being.

"Man it has been too long since I cooked like this, I might just enjoy this trip.”
 
Finnegan had finished hauling his large pelican case up into the belly of the ship, three padlocks on it were jangling as he slid it into a gap between all the other miscellaneous piles of stuff in the cargo bay. The spot he chose didn't seem to have any kind of gunk or rough edges that could scuff his case, it could more than handle any abuse he threw at it, but better to keep it in decent condition if he could.

He then made his way further through the confines of the ship, to what he thought was the medical bay.. but he must have misread something because it looked more like a kitchen in it's current state, so he leant in closer to see Oliver cooking something, whatever it was it smelled nice.

"Hey uhh, I thought this was the med-bay? but as far as i know, med-bays don't usually smell this nice" his voice filtered out through his helmet, a robotic rasp to it.
 
The red-coated madman had gotten a little headstart in aquainting himself with the engineering bay, however Dahlia & Crew came aboard quickly afterwards.

Speaking of which, one of the girls left a note in here, a check list for suggested improvements to the ship. Juryrig tapped his chin as he looked over Marie's little list of improvements, smirking mischievously as he thought on it.

"Eeeeeeeeeeeh, it's bog standard. I declare that it's almost filthy that she went with something so basic. This needs a little clean-up with..." Juryrig whipped out a pen, and openly declared with much bravado, "Descriptive details!"

Work Order​

(by Marie & Juryrig)​

DO THESE IN ORDER PLEASE​

  1. Get this ship some guns. A combination of ballistic weaponry and energy weaponry must be looked into. DON'T MAKE THEM IN HERE.
  2. Needs a better generator. Considering a dual-core alchemical fullback fusion reactor design, with a lot of bells and whistles. Garden chairs are a must.
  3. Needs a better shield. Civilian grade sucks ass, let's just steal a better one. But let me keep that civilian grade.
  4. Cloak, maybe? Bigger engines and a strong FTL; when in doubt, just go faster.

Juryrig stopped to admire the act he had just committed; as expected, he felt no emotional weight whatsoever for his act of vandalism. If anything, he felt like he had just done everyone a favor for this. "Ah, done and done! Now to let me some shut-eye."Juryrig slipped the pen into his haversack, and walked away.

Juryrig didn't consider using the cabin rooms; he wanted to be somewhere else instead. That 'somewhere else' happened to be the cargo bay, crates and junk casted to the to the corners and the walls of the room. He stumbled upon a sight of wonderful scrap metal, gathered in a generous pile in the corner of the cargo bay; Juryrig could put some of that metal to use. He promptly put the huge bag down, preparing the process.

"Munchie, deploy!" Juryrig ordered. Suddenly, a bucket-shaped canister leapt out of the haversack, shivering and popping and hissing. With a several clicks and plenty of hisses, the top of the canister opened, releasing a uncanny metal contraption; the Munch Munch Sentry. The sentry is 4'6" tall, and designed loosely off the appearance of a big carnivorous plant; the turret lolled its fat, rubbery, sticky tongue out, and panted like a dog that just so happened to have pointy teeth as big as a human hand.

"Munchie, pack!" As soon as its master said so, 'Munchie' whipped its tongue out at the pile of scrap, caught a bunch of metal with it, and pulled half of the pile into its maw. The turret, despite its head being much large from stuffing so much, had no trouble compacting all the metal down in under a minute, and also had no issue spitting the wad of metal into the haversack. It repeated this process like clockwork, until the corner of the cargo bay was sticky and cleared of metal.

Juryrig rewarded his creation with a tungsten bone, which 'Munchie' happily accepted and began chewing on.

"Now... Deploy mobile home!" Upon command, the haversack promptly squeezed itself, upchucking a work station, the Alchemical Horse, a tall metal box that was only 4' in height, a box of chalk, a box of powder, and a hammock.

After Juryrig took a few minutes to pin up the hammock (and by pin up I mean alchemically fusing the hammock in the corner of the cargo bay to prop it up), and putting his inventions and workplace to one side, he jumped into his makeshift bed and went right to sleep, with the lights still on, dreaming of chaos and diabolical thoughts.

This will be fun.
 
The Downrider
Crew Cabins

"...We'll breach your wall! We'll slaughter you all! Hear each knight proclaaaaaim! We stormed the shores of Astantame, slayed the god of roaring flame, and to the list we'll add your naaaaame! Hurrah!" Churchill sang merrily as he stepped aboard the ship, full of good food, good ale, and good spirits. It was an old cadence the Order used to sing during the rebellion as they marched. He carried with him several leftover turkey legs, for later in case his comrades hungered. Not many followed the one-meal-a-day rule, so it was only natural that some would want a late-night snack. He had memories of his small university in Nebraska as a boy, where he himself would often crawl out of bed in the wee hours of the morning to the... er... what was that old establishment called again...?

Rosco... Tell...?

Talk-O-Mail...?

...

Taco... Smell...?

Taco Smell? That sounded about right. It would never sit well in his stomach, but he was a young boy and his pockets had been light on currency, so it had seemed like the best option at the time. None the less, the armored human stumbled around the ship until he found the galley, where he stuffed the turkey legs into the fridge before setting out to find his rack.

He found the crew quarters and chose the bunk by the door. If he was to be a protector on this crusade for the others, it was only right that he be placed the closest to danger. He reached up and began shedding his armor, stacking it neatly in a corner. His weapons went under his bed. They would not be necessary, as he could bring his blade to bear on a whim, but one could never be too careful. He was now dressed in a pair of briefs and a form-fitting muscle shirt. Weary from today's events, he settled himself down on his bunk, which creaked dangerously and sank under his weight.

Then, he was out like a light, snoring like the venomous swamp beasts of Axon V.
 
Oliver jumped a little not expecting anyone else to be heading to the galley for a while which would give him time to establish himself as the best cook and claim the space for himself yet here was finn, only made more ironic by the fact that they had once fought each other and now lived under the same roof. "If this was the medbay then I'd be very concerned what all the boxes in the cupboard had if not food, can't say I was expecting visitors though."

Turning back to his sauce oliver let out a slight grimace as he looked around frantically for the seasoning and when he couldn't find it moved to improvise, grabbing one of the capped shakers beside him he made as if to shake some of its contents into the steaming mix. However he simply conjured the seasoning he wanted in his palm and let it fall down giving the effect of shaking it out, he'd also turned slightly to obscure Finns direct sight line before quickly replacing the shaker and grabbing the spoon.

"Sorry for that, almost missed some crucial ingredients anyway since you're hear are you hungry, or did you join the others in an overly pointless celebration at the inn before we'd even seen the ship?" The sarcasm was evident as was his obvious disapproval at the events passed, the street con made a mental note to see how Miko played his cards with the arrow he noticed wasn't given back with the rest he'd picked up as he moved to serve up the food.
 
Cognis went strangely quiet as he followed the motley crew into their ship, seeming to revert to the behavior he displayed up until the sudden outburst a few moments before. He wandered around the ship, his attention temporarily diverted from his expedition-mates in favor of exploring the vessel that they would all be spending a good amount of time in. He poked around the "engineering bay", meandered through the common areas, and stepped into each and every crew quarters, only to turn around and leave a moment later, regardless of who was inside.

The android's seemingly aimless exploration eventually ended with him entering the bridge, such as it was. A quick visual pan across the small room took in nearly all there was to see of the place, but one small detail caught Cog's attention. There was a universal port next to the central computer console.

Cog's chosen body didn't have very many interesting features. It was a utilitarian construct, built primarily for mobility and durability in combat. However, it did have a few useful features built into its metaphorical sleeves. One of those features quickly manifested itself as the proper adapter slotted into place and a general purpose data jack extended from the wrist underneath his right hand. With a click, Cognis connected himself to the Downrider.

The dataspace of the ship seemed remarkably... Sparse. "I'm not sure what I was expecting." Cog mused to himself as he sifted through the small handful of connections that branched from his access point. "Shouldn't there be more? Ah. I see. These systems are closed off... Very well, I'll have to explore them later." After a brief moment of searching through the remaining files, he found what he was looking for. "Here's the databank. Tell me, Downrider, what do you know about this world?"

In the real world, about twenty seconds passed between the android inserting the data jack and removing it. Cog was mildly disappointed, all he'd found was the technical blueprints for the ship, the user manual, some navigational charts, recipes for 57 different kinds of pumpkin-pie flavored food, and some extremely strange shopping lists. He decided to wait on asking Miss Morgan what Wasabi was.

He left the bridge with a new mission in mind. He'd found out most of what he wanted to know about the ship in a matter of minutes, but now it was time for the fun part.

The people.
 
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Outside the Downrider

As people began to peel away from her and enter into the ship, she gave a small sigh of relief as she shoulders sagged. Now she could drop the act and stop acting like she wasn't affected from everything that had just happened.

Swooping down one last time, she grabbed the last arrow off the ground that she could see. With a quick twirl of her fingeds, she spins the air to have the pointed, sharp end facing her before she slides it smoothly into her quiver.

With one hand still carrying her folded out bow, she would walk slowly up to the gaping mouth of the ship, her ears perking as she took in the sight. It was...certainly no Queen of The Stars, that's for sure. Taking a step in, she would be greeted by the smell of..pancakes?

Inside the Downrider

Seeing that a few other people had already set their stuff down in the cargo area, she figured it would be an ok place to set down her stuff as well. She moves over to an area that was free of anyone else's stuff before she reaches back and unclips her quiver from her belt. She carefully sets it down on it's side, aiming to not spill any more arrows, before she sets her bow down next to it, it's body folded in two and making it more compact.

With a huffed breath, she stands back up straight and places her hands on her hips, eyebrows furrowed as she looked around. Now to find that guy that never returned the arrow he snatched up...

Another whiff of the air would have the elf's head turning in the direction of the kitchen. It smelled like...tomato sauce! Oo, she had to jump on that opportunity. She hurriedly makes her way to the "kitchen", if you could even call it that, but stops at the doorway, not wanting to fill up the already crowded and small space. Peeking around a cabinet to see who was making the wonderful smelling food, she would see it was the man who had thrown the flask of alcohol at her.

"Oh! It's you in here!" Aurora exclamined. Just as she reached down and grabbed the flask of alcohol from under her belt and took a couple steps into the kitchen. "Thank's for uh..lending this. I didn't need to use it though." She says as one of her fingers runs in circles along the cap, waiting for him to finish what he was doing. After a moment, she set it down on the counter nearest to her, figuring he would get when he was finished. As she sets it down, she noticed that the other person who was in the kitchen was Finn. She acknowledges him with a small smile before before glancing around at the interior of the hole in the wall kitchen.
 
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Downdrider
Cockpit

Arbarbles plopped into her seat at the helm of the craft, tearing open another packet of trail mix as she went over the systems she could see. Best not to turn the ship on while people were still out and about its exterior and generally not prepared for it. Instead she started cycling through the exterior cameras, getting a few good looks at the area around the ship from various angles - above, below, and directly behind mostly. The bottom one is the most useful for landing, of course. "So... What now? Eh... Oi, Dahlia, just lemme know when you're ready to get going!" Pulling out a blanket from basically the only non-food-filled pocket of her carried bag - the rest of her things already stowed away from before the meeting even started - Arbles set it on her lap and unfolded it a bit to cover most of her legs and feet, small bits of the soft fabric spilling to either side of the chair.
 
Miko had made his way onto the ship and was checking the place out. He decided not to drop his things off till he had found the best place to do so. After a short walk around the cargo bay he made his way to the galley. It was normal for him to hang out where there was food as he was always hungry. Was the curse of having sage powers or so that was what he told himself.

As he walked in he noticed that Oliver was already getting comfortable with cooking. "My man, we going to be good friends you keep me fed with some good eats." He said with a smile as he stepped deeper into the galley. He gave a quick wave to Finn. He also noticed that the elf from before was also here. "Hey, fancy meeting you again. Believe your name was Aurora." He said with a smile as he took a seat near them both.
 
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Finn was propped up against a wall off to the side, he had managed to doze off mid-way through talking to Oliver, but a red bleep woke him and he groggily looked around the heads up display that seemed to be the only light his face ever saw.

A power warning, great.

That meant he had about an hour until he had to power down, he'd rather his leg was fixed beforehand though, but he was surprised when he looked past the hud to see that Aurora and Miko were now here too. So the armoured merc moved over to the table and decided to sit, seemed the spaghetti was done so he must've only just drifted off, he was glad that he didn't miss out.

The seat creaked under the weight of his suit but it didn't sound like an about to break kinda creak, more like a you're heavy kinda creak. "spaghetti sounds pre.." he started speaking then stopped, his voice was bouncing around the inside of his helmet instead of being projected, so he glanced around his hud to see that he had muted his microphone, he re-activated it and spoke again "Spaghetti sounds pretty good right now".

Finn let out a small yawn and slumped back slightly in his seat "Yeah, that fall looked pretty intense, are you sure you're okay, Aurora?" he asked.
 
Oliver hid his dislike of having so many people around and instead set about splitting the dish into 3 and serving the steaming food to the three visitors at the table before moving back to the kitchen and retrieving his flask Aurora had left for him. "Well did you even taste it first before you giving it back?" He said slyly before starting to pack up his cooking items, "dig in guys, finest food that an empty wallet can buy and in case my street lingo is too much im saying its made of budget cooking foods."
 
Reman, relaxing in the back, starts to stare at the key with him. His mind was not just on food, but rather the prospect of being in work again. He made himself a little corner of the main room, before setting down his journal and moving towards the large stockpile of foods. Walking back with a plate full of the stuff, he took out his key, and examined it. It glew, like it always did in his hands, and it bore that symbol. 'Cyclone.' He'd be remiss if he didn't have it on him at all times.

Taking small bites, he opened up his journal to a page containing a rather elaborate cloaking device, full of bits and bobs that regular engineers would deem unnecessary, but to him were required for optimal function. He looked around at what he could strip down, or what he could take for constructing the device.

He soon afterwards shifted the brace to see if it still functioned. With the commotion on the ship he was sure barely anybody would notice. The brace shifted backwards, and with a satisfying click snapped into a backwards, upright position. The belt shortly afterwards started it's usual semi-loud confirmation routine. The belt uttered "INSERT!" before making a drum-beat like rhythm to keep the user notified. He shortly afterwards closed the driver, in a way relieved that even though he knew it would function, that it still did.
 
The sound of footsteps behind her would cause Aurora to slip up next to the table so that she wasn't blocking the doorway, placing her fingertips on the edge of the laminated surface, her head turns to see that it was was the man from earlier she'd seen tossing around her arrow. she wasn't quite sure whether he had dropped it afterwards or not, but she decided to trust that the guy had just left it on the ground. She cocks an eyebrow at him as he proclaims that the key to his trust was just a full stomach.

Just as the elf was back to glancing around again, trying to keep her eyes busy so that she wouldn't stare at any of the three in the tight space with her, Miko would turn and address her. "Hah, is it? And yes," She stands a bit straighter while offering a small smile and nod of the head. "It's Aurora."

But a moment later, she would have her head turned away from Miko and facing the hulking, metal figure who introduced himself as Finn when he had helped her up. The elf, ears would impatiently turn a shade of red, then her face, as she fanned quickly at the air as if to dispell a cloud of smoke. "Yes! I'm fine, I'm fine!" Her lower lip disappeared into her mouth as her teeth sink into the puffy, pink flesh. "Shit, they all probably think I'm gonna get myself killed, great work crying like a baby from a just a scratch." The thought would cross bitterly through her head as her ears dropped and her eyes drifted to the table.

But they would only perk up again at the question of whether she had tried any of the alcohol she was lent. A grin would slowly creep up on her lips as her eyebrows furrowed. Finally, a chuckle escapes her. "Ok, that has got to be the first time I've heard anyone sound insulted someone didn't steal their drink." She says as she turns to look to the man. As he sets the bowls on the table, she slides into the boot on Finn's side, pulling one of her gloves off and setting it on the table. "Mmm..smells really good, thank you!" She calls over to the man that had just set down the food. "Thank you, uh...what's your name?"
 
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