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Into the Stars

Government Base

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a part of Into the Stars, by Miyer.

"This is where the team first meets and where they are given their mission."

Miyer holds sovereignty over Government Base, giving them the ability to make limited changes.

294 readers have been here.

Setting

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The Government base is the first location where you will be posting before the team gets onto the StarFire200IO and enters outer space, traveling to different planets.
This section will cover the meeting of the team and the debriefing of the mission.
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Government Base

"This is where the team first meets and where they are given their mission."

Minimap

Government Base is a part of Earth.


Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Nixon Moreau Character Portrait: Minerva Sato Character Portrait: Vincent Velorien Character Portrait: Ricky Gordon Character Portrait: Cecilia Calem Character Portrait: Hannah Gordon Character Portrait: Tori Quinn
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#, as written by Miyer
(OOC: Sorry for the length but Introduction paragraphs are always so long...)

Hannah stood at the doors to the base, leaning lazily with her eyes shut against the sun, patiently waiting for her kid brother to show. It was such a small world when both siblings had gotten onto the voyage and Hannah couldn't wait to see her little brother again. It has been 3 years, if she remembered correctly, their only contact being phone calls and emails.

"S-sorry I'm l-late.", Hannah grinned and opened her eyes at the tell tale signs of her little brother arriving. His stuttering and soft voice as well as her hurried footsteps as he made has way across the courtyard. "I j-just f-forgot something back at t-the labs..."He trailed off as he arrived in front of her, a shy smile on his face and his cheeks a bright red with embarrassment.

"It's been to long Ricky." She said as she sweep the small 18 year old into a tight hug, lifting him into the air slightly before placing him back down when he began to ask for air. "Let's head inside. They will start the briefing in the main room with the other 5 members. They should all be here now, you and I are probably the last ones in." She sent Ricky a amused smile which he returned nervously, glancing at the bases doors as if they lead to his death.

"O-okay, L-let's go..." He said hesitantly. The sibling entered the base together and began to walk down one of the corridors the desk lady pointed to. The corridor had no doors or windows, the only light in the room being that of artificial lights. Reaching the end of the corridor there sat one single door.

Ready for this Ricky?" She asked jokingly as the two stared at the closed door, to anyone else she would of seemed confident, joking with her little brother and having a carefree attitude to the whole situation, however Ricky could see the little things that made his sister tick, the things that showed how stressed and scared she actually was. The things that no else could see because they didn't know her, they hadn't been with her all their lives or gotten to know her the way Ricky had. He sometimes couldn't help but feel slightly proud how much of an open book Hannah was to him, just him.

Reaching out his hand to grip his sister's, sending her another shy but comforting smile. "Let's go.", For once his voice came out steady as they entered the room.

Inside sat 3 other women and 2 men, all looking to be in their late teens or early twenties like Hannah and her brother, except for one of the men who looked to be slightly older. Looking at all the people in the room, the siblings have each a once over.

The man who looked to be slightly older than the rest was tall and had dark spiky hair, multi coloured eyes like Hannah and was dressed in an outfit that mainly consisted of black. You could see just faintly, if you were looking, that his hands were not real and were mechanic.
The other man looked to be more around Hannah's age and had wild, teal coloured hair and an athletic build, standing slightly smaller than the other man but taller than Ricky. The most eye catching thing about the man though, is the fact that he seemed to be wearing a gas mask for some reason, that completely covered his face.
All three females seemed to be around Hannah's age, excepted for a girl who was probably around Ricky's. She had fiery orange hair tied up into a ponytail and amber eyes, she was dressed in a hoodie and jeans, with a set of headphone around her neck and a pair of goggles like Hannah's own.
The next women had short black hair cut to her chin and interesting blue eyes, she was dressed in very bright and strange clothing which caused Hannah to grin ever so slightly at them in all their eye catching worth. Finally, someone who understood the value of bright, bizarre cloths!
The final women made Hannah's grin widen and intensify as she saw her biker garb, with a purple helmet resting against her hip. She had teal coloured hair that was mostly brushed to hang from the left, while a scare ran along the right side of her head and Her eyes were an interesting blue color.

After the siblings had given everyone a good once over. Hannah gave a confident smirk and strolled into the room, dragging her shy brother behind her.
"Sup y'all, Names Hannah Gordon and I'm your pilot. You need to fly somewhere, you call me." She said confidently while facing the group, her little brother hidden slightly behind her back, as he gazed awkwardly at everyone. Noticing this, Hannah gave a small sigh and pushed the shy boy forwards slightly and gave him a nod, indicating her should introduce himself.
"Ahh... M-my n-names Ricky G-Gordon... I-I'm y-your scientist..." He said quitely, managing to mumble it out with a pink face before retreating to hide behind his sister.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Nixon Moreau Character Portrait: Minerva Sato Character Portrait: Vincent Velorien Character Portrait: Ricky Gordon Character Portrait: Cecilia Calem Character Portrait: Hannah Gordon Character Portrait: Tori Quinn
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And so all have arrived. Interesting, perhaps, that the pilot would be the last. She hadn't seemed to notice, or perhaps she had and was covering for herself. Either way, the young doctor observing the room from her seat in the corner would have been more apologetic.

Though that's usually the case. And they weren't late, just not early. And so she filed that information away for later consideration as more data became available, in a new folder specifically created for notes on her new crewmates. Interfacing one's memories with a computer had its advantages, organization among them.

The brother was more interesting. Simple timidity, or something deeper? Perhaps overly sheltered by his sister. Something else to make a note of. As medic, she would certainly end up handling a variety of psychological issues on this ship, besides the physical ones. It was simply good record-keeping.

For almost the first time in this meeting-room, she spoke - not much point in introductions that would have to be repeated, after all. "Sato. Minerva Sato. Medical officer." She nodded. "Welcome aboard."

Various subtle reactions from the others were noted and recorded in their respective files in her digitalized memory. And that was it. She'd said what she'd wanted to say, and gotten what data she could. Proper analysis would have to wait until more was available, but it was a start. She was especially interested in getting the boy - Ricky - to form relationships among the crew - a mission like this would not go well unless everyone was on good terms with each other.

Acting as a counselor was not explicitly spelled out in the description of the medic's duties, but it was implied, and as far as Minerva Sato was concerned it should be. She took the mental and social health of the crew quite seriously. Ironic, perhaps, given how uninvolved she herself was with social interactions. But so it goes.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Nixon Moreau Character Portrait: Minerva Sato Character Portrait: Vincent Velorien Character Portrait: Ricky Gordon Character Portrait: Cecilia Calem Character Portrait: Hannah Gordon Character Portrait: Tori Quinn
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#, as written by Artik
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Only a piece of bright blue fabric was between his skin and the cool metal of the sleek, tall backed chair.. Having arrived fashionably early, punctuality practically etched into his skin, the young military marksman pressed his shoulders against the black, no-nonsense leather seating. Letting his head lull back and heavily over it's edge, his soon to be shipmates had yet to make any appearances, and thus Nixon was left to stare up, rather than around. Behind tinted lenses of a respirator mask, amber optics illuminated as thermal vision kicked into gear. Blobs, various shades of reds and blue transitioned steadily into existence. A hidden brow quirked, albeit with more of a lazy disinterest and desire to pass the time rather than any actual curiosity. Above the briefing room was a hallway parallel to some sort of administrative office. To the left, a bathroom. The right, probably conference rooms. Of course, this was all just general speculation, given the grid and division between those red blobs, and those other red blobs. It could have been an oddly designed laboratory for all he really knew.

For a few minutes though, he observed what seemed to be aimless shuffling from cubicle to cubicle, but soon shifted his attention to the bathroom where strings of cold and warm water occasionally eased through his line of sight. Two particular red blobs seemed to be fraternizing, this assumption based almost soley on the fact that he could barely distinguish one from the other - as well as their apparent movement. A smirk might have cracked on the would-be-voyeur's lips, but his blob watching had absurptly come to an end. Someone else had arrived, in fact multiple someone elses had. Nixon's already lulled back head swiveled slowly, cocked at a slight angle like a curiously low-hanging Spiderman. One after the other filed in and soon enough, the gang was all there.

No names given, the sharpshooter could only continue with his speculations. That one looked like she could pack a punch, and that one not so much. That other one looked a bit stiff and stuffy, while that other other one - well, who knows. As the door shut behind the final arrivals, personalities became apparent and titles were given accordingly. Interesting.

Captain; front and center. Nixon would lift his head, sit a tad straighter and offer a mock salute by way of passing introduction. Lab Rat and Med-Head followed suit, and just like that the greetings and who's whos had begun. One of which sounded particularly 'Bond'-like. Somewhere amidst the pleasantries though, Nixon would make himself known all the same. A calloused hand smushed against the green material strapped about his face, and promptly tugged it on down until it hung 'round his neck. Subtly clearing his throat, the man would shift in his seat and hoist a hand in the air to garner the appropriate amount of attention. A three-fingered waggle would occur in unison with the voice that rumbled from somewhere deep in his chest. "Moreau, Nixon Moreau."
He stated, facial expression unrevealing of the fact that he may or may not have been mocking Sato, Minerva Sato. Regardless, he continued as such. "Designated Marksman, present and accounted for. Shaken, not stirred." The latter part of the introduction might have been uttered an octave lower, simply for effect.

A few inconspicuous eyebrow twitches and lip curls later, he'd made note of everyone's name and general demeanor - to which he thought they'd all mesh rather well, as far he could tell.

Joke and jest aside, Nixon proceeded to straighten his posture and sit casually, while still giving the appropriate amount of respect deserved by whomever would be delivering the crew their briefing. Sliding his mask back into place, the barbell in his tongue would click habitually against the back of the man's teeth as he otherwise fell silent for remaining duration of the meeting.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Nixon Moreau Character Portrait: Minerva Sato Character Portrait: Vincent Velorien Character Portrait: Ricky Gordon Character Portrait: Cecilia Calem Character Portrait: Hannah Gordon Character Portrait: Tori Quinn
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Tori sat there spinning around in the chair slowly, her head back looking up at the ceiling waiting in silence. She stole this chair with wheels from another meeting room because she didn't like the black stationary ones that were in the other meeting room. She continued to spin around her motorcycle helmet clipped to her belt as she blew strands of her hair that was in her face, obviously bored. Her morning was relatively good since she got to ride her motorcycle all that she wanted before she got here so she was in a good mood. When she walked in after stealing the chair, all eyes were on her as she was the only one sticking out since she was dragging a chair. She scanned the room quickly for exit's and places to take cover as she "strutted" while dragging the chair behind her to where she wanted to sit.

She planted herself at the very end of the table next to the man with the teal hair almost the same hues as hers. Hm thats some nice hair and cool mask. She thought as she took her seat. Tori was flooded with scents since she walked in and now started to pinpoint each one.She could smell the people from the next room and from out in the hall but there currently was nobody out there. She followed the smell of fresh rain on grass to the man with the mask, then continued from there.

The older looking man smelled like a summer breeze with a hint of old books. Now the energetic looking young female had a weird yet pleasant smell to her, it was a mix of a floral scent with the scent of the Ocean. Lastly the girl with the short black hair smelled of pine trees which again Tori found pleasant. Everyone else smelled weird or awful and Tori's nose was flooded with the nauseating scents that made her stomach do flip flops. She laid her head down for a second trying to calm her stomach from the nauseating smells then managed to recover quickly pulling her head back up playing with the stud in her tongue, apparently waiting for someone else like everyone else so obviously pointed out. Not that much time passed before Tori suddenly smelled two more people outside in the hall.

One smelled like honey and lavender which she found as a very pleasant smell and the other smelled like strawberries but she could also smell the nervousness that the person gave off. The door was pushed open and Tori lifted her head slightly watching as a very beautiful, colorful woman walk in with a younger looking boy behind her.Tori could smell that the nervousness obviously came from the boy and the intoxicating smell that she was quickly getting fond of came from the woman. She slightly tilted her head as she spoke. So she's the captain huh? Well this is going to be interesting. She thought as she flashed a toothy grin at the captain showing off her canines as her eyes met hers for that one split second.

Tori waited until the three crewmates introduced themselves slightly snickering at Nixons introduction. "I'm Tori Quinn the Fighter you might say of the crew, It's a pleasure to meet you all, especially you miss captain~" Tori spoke the last few words playfully winking at Hannah before leaning back in her chair, relaxing what she could in it. She waited for the others to introduce themselves opening a bag of sour skittles popping a couple in her mouth as she began to slowly swing her chair from side to side. She got some looks from other people in the room but then again Tori couldn't give two shits.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Nixon Moreau Character Portrait: Minerva Sato Character Portrait: Vincent Velorien Character Portrait: Ricky Gordon Character Portrait: Cecilia Calem Character Portrait: Hannah Gordon Character Portrait: Tori Quinn
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Vincent had left later than planned, and was running from the School of Knowledge to the governmental building, as his self-built motorcycle had- against no odds at all- collapsed the moment he sat on it. “MICE!” He yelled, as he dodged a speeding motorcycle, “You watch it!"He yelled back at the receding figure on the motorcycle. "MICE!” This time, he stopped on the side to grab a humanoid, mouse-faced machine on his left shoulder, shaking it slightly as he scowled and groaned. He punched a red button on the side of the machine and spoke in a clear voice, the thought of him being late receding to the back of his head, “Activate ‘My Ingenious, Cool Experiment’.” He grinned to himself at the name he had come up with as the little red sockets the machine had for eyes blinked open.

He started strolling towards the governmental facility as he asked, “Time, MICE?” He casually leapt over a tall wall that blocked his way as he took a detour he had used many times before while escaping both thugs and police alike. “Well, all I’ll say is that you late, Master Vincent,” the machine clanked out, “to the meeting for the seven-person trip to space?” Vincent stopped in his steps, groaned, and slapped his forehead with his metallic hand, wincing as the hard surface crashed onto his skull. “Hell almight-,” he swore as he picked up his dash again, racing towards the governmental facility.

Dashing through the halls, Vincent finally reached the receptionist. “Which-,” he gasped, “Which way to the meeting?” The lady gave him an unamused look as she pointed to the hallway, and watched him slouch in as the mouse on his shoulder squeaked encouraging phrases. Half way into the tunnel, MICE suddenly let out a high-pitched giggle, startling Vincent a bit. “I was joking, Master Vincent- we early.” Vincent stopped on his tracks and turned his head to look at the machine on his shoulder, a mildly amused and exasperated look on his face. This evidently wasn't the first time his machine had lied to him. “I never should have created you, you know that, don’t you?” He grabbed MICE and punched the red button again, and then stuffed the machine into the pack he had slung around his shoulders. Great. he thought, strolling into the room after he had caught his breath All that running for nothing He didn’t pause to look at the others already there and walked into the darker corner of the room, and picked a seat there. He shrugged off his pack and placed it on his lap as he took off the hood of his overlarge jacket.

Vincent cast an observant eye at the only other two in the room. A female and a male sat at the other side of the table from him. Vincent felt instantly interested in the younger male. I remember seeing that model of air masks somewhere but I wasn’t paying enough attention…was it during one of those boring lectures about ‘bad air quality’ that Professor Whatever was having? Careful to not glare or stare, he cast inquisitive looks at the two, noting the girl’s weird appearance and distinctive outdoor look. He made no attempt to introduce himself as the others started filing into the room, as- finally- the pilot and scientist came strolling into the room. After the other male, Nixon Moreau…I remember reading his files and the lady with teal hair and Tori Quinn, yes. had finished their introductions, Vincent let out a loud cough.

He grinned at the others, trying to look as nice as possible, as he said, with a scratchy voice, “m’ names Vincent. Vincent Velorien, the tactician of this expedition, though I can’t promise much. It’s nice to meet you all.” He nodded his head in the general direction in front of him as he dropped his smile and returned to observing the others in the room, and boy, did he feel old amongst the other members seated in the room, though they were all around the same age zone. I should probably get a makeover or something. He thought, absentmindedly, forgetting to listen to the introductions of the other members of the expedition force. Staring by getting rid of this beard... He stroked his chin before shifting his attention back to the introductions.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Nixon Moreau Character Portrait: Minerva Sato Character Portrait: Vincent Velorien Character Portrait: Ricky Gordon Character Portrait: Cecilia Calem Character Portrait: Hannah Gordon Character Portrait: Tori Quinn
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#, as written by mome
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Much to the mechanic's surprise, she'd been the earliest one to the meeting. Then again, she supposed with the Academy of Technology being the closest to the Government base, CC supposed it was to be expected. During the brief time she'd spent in the comfort room, it seemed everyone else had arrived. She stood by the doorway to the toilet, waiting for everyone else to finish speaking before introducing herself.

"Hi there! I'm CC, your mechanic." When everyone turned their attention to her, she gave them a mock salute, grinning as she did. She collapsed into her seat, the chair rolling into the boy named Ricky. "Whoops, sorry!" She inclined her head, a hand up to her mouth to indicate an apology. When he avoided her gaze, she simply shrugged and turned around so fast she probably gave him whiplash. Probably just super shy, unlike majority of the group. And while most of them did share that characteristic, each individual was wildly different from the other, not just in appearance but also in general demeanor and attitude. The orange-haired girl wondered just how well they'd mesh once they'd spent x number of days confined within the same ship. Even the best friendships experienced strained when being in such close quarters for so long. How about a group of strangers?

For one thing, the brother/sister duo was a study in contrasts by themselves. Hannah, their pilot and CC's supposed worst enemy considering their jobs, looked like the kind of chick who preferred independence and being followed. Her brother was the exact opposite, and much to CC's chagrin, he looked much prettier than all of the women in the group. She wasn't sure if that was a compliment or not.

The latest to introduce himself was their tactician, and he looked older than majority of the group, most of him looked fresh out of school. Technically though, CC supposed they did just get out of school. He seemed like someone she would get along with, so no problems in that department.

Their doctor wasn't one to stand out, but given her area of expertise, maybe that was for the best. Minerva, if she'd recalled properly. Maybe she'd be just like their school doctor and nag at her to treat the small wounds that decorated her person. Guess she'd find out when that situation arrived.

Yellow eyes slid over to the two teal-haired individuals, a wry smile forming on her face at the strange coincidence. No matter how you cut it, teal was not a color you often dyed your hair. And amusingly enough, both people were combat-oriented. Was it a rule in that academy to dye your hair teal? The image of a class filled with teal haired individuals was absurd and brought forth an audible chuckle. Between the two though, CC was rather fixated on the male. The flirt was met with a raised eyebrow, but CC didn't judge yet; homosexuals weren't that unusual in this day and age. Nixon, however, was definitely being mysterious with his chosen accessory. The gas mask was unusual and definitely not one she'd dealt with before. And why would anyone cart around a gas mask on a regular basis?

A silence had fallen on the group and Cecilia felt the need to fill it.

"Hey guys, if our ship ends up with a malfunction or someone planted a bomb and we go kabloeey," Her hands moved in rhythm with her words, visibly acting out whatever she was saying. Her hands spread out and mimicked an explosion just as she said "kabloeey", her tone remaining light as she considered one of the worst mishaps to happen to them. It was a definite possibility, and CC had unknowingly probably made a few people in the room nervous. "For the record, leave my corpse alone. While I'm not the captain, I'll go down with the ship." She giggled, but she was partially serious.

"Let's all hope it doesn't happen though. I'd like the chance to take apart Nixon's mask." See, first name basis already. While the words were meant as a joke, there was just a hint of earnest to indicate she really did want to do it.


Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Nixon Moreau Character Portrait: Minerva Sato Character Portrait: Vincent Velorien Character Portrait: Ricky Gordon Character Portrait: Cecilia Calem Character Portrait: Hannah Gordon Character Portrait: Tori Quinn
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#, as written by Miyer
As people began to state their names and stations in their own unique way, the siblings began to place names to faces. Both silently judging each members personality from the short passage they gave as introduction.

Well they both were until the biker, who was now identified as Tori, opened up a pack of sour skittles and Hannah lost all conscious of the world around her, only focusing her gaze in on the bag of sugary, fruity, rainbowy goodness that she has been craving since her last fix only a few hours ago. Her eyes glazed over and she could feels the drool trying to slip out of her mouth, the only thought going though her mind was that of the multi coloured sweets.

Ricky noticed his sisters glazed eyes and gave a small smile, before being knocked into by the Mechanic girl, CC. Avoiding the girls gaze like the plague as she said an apologie, he felt his cheeks heat up as his wild, blonde fringe fell forward to cover his eyes. He could feel a slight shiver run down his spine as if someone was watching him, glancing around the room though his thick fringe he couldn't help but feel something really, really bad was going to happen soon...

The introductions had finished and now the group stood in silence, waiting for someone to talk. Ricky began to give Hannah's arm a few hard tugs to try and wake her up from her skittle induced daze, jumping slightly when the girl CC began to talk causing the small shakeing in his body to appear from fear of death as she had suggested. Glancing at his sister once more in desperation, he gave one last hard tug which pulled the girl slightly off balance and waking her up just in time to hear the last of CC's words.

Quicky regaining her balance, an amused smirk easily slide onto the girls face as she turned her back to her rainbow drug. "I think most of us will be going down with the ship if that happens. But let's make a deal, you look after the StarFire likes she's your baby and I will fly her so that we don't crash and die an untimely death.", Her smirk grew wider as she glanced between Nixon and CC, before continuing, "And I think most of us here want to get that mask off his face. After all, that's what happens when you come here all mysterious and shrouded, people generally want to pick your apart until they know all your secrets." She finished off while sending Nixon an evil smile, eyes closed and her face the picture of pure innocence.

Suddenly a crackling was heard across the room, brings all it's occupants to attention as a voice spoke through the intercom.

"Welcome recruits, you have been chosen by your relative schools to part take in a mission that could very well determine the future of the human race. It's to late to back out now and if you did than we have a very nice prison cell and death sentence waiting for you.

Your mission is to travel to 6 planets that have the potential to become Mankind's new home, the coordinates have been given to your pilot and navigator, or caption if you will, for this mission Hannah Gordon. She will get you to all your destinations and than it will be your task to complete the role assigned to you.

Each of you have a purpose, the fighter and marksman are there to mainly protect the group though I have no doubt some of you can fight, if not all. Mechanic is too fix up the ship and other people's Bionics if anything should happen while the medic will be taking care of the health of the body, and the mind in some cases.

The tactician is to plan your decent onto the planet, each planet has inhabitants and you will need a strategy to get onto each planet safely and without causing problems. The tactician will also plan any course of action needed to be taken, escape plans, battle plans and even recon plans.

The scientist job is to test the planet and ensure we have accurate data of each. We do not know much about these planets and this is why you are going on this mission. You are to explore, record and return.

A women will be in shorty to show you to the StarFire200IO, Good luck."


And with that the voice cut off and an strictly dressed women entered the room, her hair was pulled back from her face and she wore a pair of glasses which obscured her eyes. She scanned the room, stopping as her gaze crossed each person in turn before moving onto the next. Nodding her head once she was done, she simply did a 'follow me' gesture before walking out the door and heading down a corridor towards the hanger.

The group followed and a varying degree of emotions crossed each a face as they finally saw the StarFire. Hannah's eyes widen slightly before taking on a sparkling effect, a awed and enchanted grin crossing her face, while her brother glanced nervously between the ship and the women, wondering if she was actually serious.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Nixon Moreau Character Portrait: Minerva Sato Character Portrait: Vincent Velorien Character Portrait: Ricky Gordon Character Portrait: Cecilia Calem Character Portrait: Hannah Gordon Character Portrait: Tori Quinn
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#, as written by Artik
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Well, they certainly were a rag tag bunch of individuals, there were no doubts about that. But - the more important question was - could they make it back in one piece, and be able to stamp another proud Mission Success on their respective dossiers? Only time would tell, but first they had to make it to the ship. And damn, was this meeting dragging out.

Minor interactions here and there had occurred, but Nix simply sat back and observed not paying them much mind. Captain had a thing for sugary sweets, while Sweets had a thing for Captain - if you get my meaning. A shrouded, yet amused expression tugged at the marksman's lips as his head calmly rolled about his shoulders. Amber orbs flickered about just the same, jettisoning from shipmate to shipmate, particularly though, the one's whose personalities garnered more attention. Even more specifically, he found himself craning his neck towards the sound of his name.

There was just a bit to much chit-chat about the ship blowing up for him to be completely at ease with the conversation, but he wasn't quite expecting the brash statement made audible by their would-be mechanic. Gazing past the stoic Medical Officer and lounging Tactician, he'd hoist a brow at the spunky, yellowed eyed lass as she giggled. Studying her humorous, yet pointed expression something told him she wasn't kidding - yet all he could do was stare and blink twice for a moment, head cocked. Welp, someone obviously wasn't shy.., or up to date on social etiquette for that matter.

As he swiveled back into his seat, their Pilot dutifully chimed in - prolonging the topic of conversation. Shoulder muscles flexed back a bit, tensing only briefly as he became the center of attention. Eye to eye, or rather lens to eye - with the Captain's impish grin, the designated sharpshooter would aim to meet her snarky challenge head on. His sleek left, synthetic hand would raise itself, and with a single pull release the straps that held the respirator snug to his face. It fell slack, and sunk to his chest almost instantly revealing only a lackluster tightlipped expression. With both eyebrows raised Nixon simply tossed his shoulders back in a devil may care shrug. Perhaps he was even being a bit smug, as if he'd just derailed their hopes of something more interesting. Behind the mask was nothing grotesque, no layer of white puckered scars, or skin that hadn't seen the light of day in years. No, indeed he wasn't Luke's Father or even the Easter Bunny. He was who he said he was, no need to go digging for secrets. "Mystery solved, Captain."
Time for a Scooby Snack.

Eyes slid next however to Ricky, wherein then he'd wink. If only to get the desired reaction.

Removing the mask from his it's hanging position, Nixon would turn and toss it across the room, towards the deft and able hands of their mechanic before leaning forward, elbows and forearms resting atop knees. An invitation to take a quick look. "I'd appreciate it, if you didn't pull it apart though." The man would murmur those words before running a hand up his face and sweeping a few stray colored locks out of his eyes - even if only for the moment.

To be honest, Nix always did feel odd without the breathing contraption within his immediate reach. It was just the way of things. And as a result, a touch of anxiety he worked near flawlessly to hide only managed to rear its head in the form of his thumb repetitively tapping against his knee. The vague nervous gesture was subtle enough, but as he licked his lips and rerouted his focus to the crackling intercom, there was no doubt that his eyes kept tabs on CC and her nimble, spindly little digits.

Nixon proceeded inhaled and exhaled normally, just like everybody else. The air outside the mask did taste crisper, colder, and not recycled but the arrival of the well dressed woman with spectacles promptly distracted him from the inconsistencies in the air. Rising to his feet on cue, the teal haired male would fall in line with his new shipmates, but not before altering his trajectory and purposefully crossing paths with CC. Calmly and expectantly, he'd extend a hand more than ready to have his belongings returned to him before boarding the ship.

Star-Fire 200IO, ready or not - here we come.

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Well this is an interesting group. They all looked cool and looked as if Tori can get along with them all. She leaned forward in her chair cracking her knuckles getting a bit anzy because she isn't use to sitting this long. She proceeded to crack her back not really paying attention to anything else but boredom that has taken over. She cracked her back then flexed out her fingers and shoulders groaning low enough for no one to hear.

Tori was partially hearing the conversation only hearing bits and pieces. Something about Nixon and his mask if she recalls. She took interest in that and turned her attention to him as he began to take it off. She watched curiously not really expecting much just his face. When the mask was off his face Tori let a small grin cross her lips. See just his face, and not a bad looking one at that.

She rested her head on her hands which were on the table and observed the scene that played before her. She stifled a chuckle at Nixons comment to the captain. Tori blew some strands of her hair away from her face once more continueing to watch when a well dressed female walked in. They locked eyes for a second as she looked at everyone in the room then took all of us out of the room. Tori popped a few more skittles in her mouth one hand shoved in her pocket as she walked with the group to their designated location.

When they got to where the ship was Tori just looked up at it in amazement. " Whoa, a beauty she is!" Her scottish accent finally surfacing when she tried to hide it the whole time at the meeting. She didn't notice though since she was too amazed and hypnotized by the beauty of the ship. She popped a few more skittles into her mouth as she gawked at the ship.
Well good bye sis, I'll be back for you in no time.

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Vincent had been daydreaming the whole time the introductions and small talk went on, and had no thoughts of joining at all. His attention snapped back in time to hear his job he had to do for the expedition. You have got to be kidding. He raised an eyebrow as he placed his two hands on his legs, twiddling his thumbs slightly. You expect me, Vincent Velorien, to lead a team of people successfully and safely through places I’ve never gone to and through battles- which, by the way, I’ve never really been in? He shook his head slightly as he got up with the rest of the members of the 7-people expedition group, his pack hitting the left side of his hip painfully.

Wincing, he followed the others through the corridor, limping slightly as one of his textbooks had hit him right in the thigh. Why did I ever sign up for this?! he thought, darkly, as he slouched on through the corridor, a slight pout on his face. He pulled his hood further over his head, concealing his face in the shadows as he continued to complain about his current predicament. But, I suppose it’s permanent. Future hypothesis on what’s going to happen to all of us is he let out a light chuckle, we are so screwed. He shook his head again, staring fixedly at the heels of the person in front of him.

He didn’t even realize that they were in front of their ship until the awed gasps of the other 6 explorers dragged his eyes from the floor to the spaceship right in front of them, docked and ready to take off. “Well, I’ve never seen this model of spaceship.” he muttered, slightly in awe yet slightly annoyed at his overall lack of information. He opened his pack slowly and rummaged through the contents, before finally grabbing a pad and dragging it out while licking his index finger. “Remember…” he muttered, as he dragged his index finger across the glass screen, “Remember…to…search up…m-model…of…this…sp-spa- hell! Not ‘e’, you moronic sensor pad, ‘c’!-‘c’, ah, there we go. Space…ship…” Vincent bit his tongue as he held the pad with his right hand, his left rummaging through his pack once more until he dragged out an extremely old looking camera and snapped a picture, the image of the spaceship suddenly loading on the pad, right beside what he had just wrote out.

Grinning, he shoved the mechanisms back into his pack, zipping it up hastily, until he suddenly remembered his job during the mission. Need to read up those biographies… I suppose leaving them for later was not a good idea… He sighed looked at the others again, slightly less eager to step onto the ship once again. “I mean, both mean a certain death…” Vincent continued to mutter absentmindedly as he kept himself at the back of the group, his hood still up and his face still in the shadows. “Probably wouldn’t be bad to ask if alcohol’s allowed…” he looked up and looked at the woman leading them to the ship. “Lady,” he said gruffly, not as loud as he usually was. She didn’t hear him- or probably ignored me- so Vincent cleared his throat and opened his mouth, as if he was going to try again before he closed his mouth shut.

Let’s think about this later. he thought. Anyways, no one had tried to check his pack during the walk to the ship, and he didn’t see any security checks anywhere. Vincent was determined to bring his alcohol, if that was the last thing he ever did. Hopefully they have good drinks in these other planets…and that we don’t die because of some blasted, out of the ordinary accident.

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Yup, that's a space ship.

Fortunately, it seemed like a nice one. People sometimes neglect how important something looking good can be, especially if it's intended for long-term habitation. A pleasing form and pleasant surroundings just make people more comfortable with things. And so, whoever had designed the aesthetics of the ship had Minerva's gratitude. Hopefully the inside would match.

And hopefully it wouldn't feel like the dorms back at school.

But that's all there really was to say about the ship. Others reactions to it, though... The general reaction seemed positive, which was a good sign. Excitement seemed high; they seemed to look forward to setting off. Perhaps foolishly so, as there still wasn't too much data available to them. Perhaps there was more on the ship's computers - which Minerva hoped would interface with hers - or perhaps there really just wasn't much more known. Vincent, at least, seemed to concur, and exhibited definite signs of nervousness, which didn't do much to console the same nervousness Minerva was trying to hide.

And then there was the young scientist. Both easy and hard to read at the same time. Easy, because his general emotional state was blatantly obvious. Hard, because the reasons behind those emotions weren't. There seemed to be something he was hiding - something responsible for his extreme shyness, which would be hard to find because of it. In this case, though, it was simpler. He was nervous about the mission, same as anyone sensible.

Which apparently didn't include at least one member of the crew. Tori's primary concern right now seemed to be eating candy. Overconfidence, or perhaps faked confidence? Probably the former.

"Is there anything further we are waiting for before boarding? I would like to get acquainted with the ship, and especially my infirmary."

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"I'll do my best el piloto." Or however you said it. CC had never taken a Spanish class in her life. Most of her electives were spent on human biology, thanks to her interest in bionics. "And if we still fail, let's hope our tactician has a plan for us."

An amused grin slowly formed on CC's face as Nixon made a show of taking off his mask. The face that showed behind the mask was nothing out of the ordinary, and the mechanic didn't know whether to be relieved or disappointed. She didn't wish some sort of tragic past for him after all, but he'd definitely have made quite a colorful character. "Looks like we have a showstopper."

"I nominate Nixon for my best friend in the ship." CC's face lit up like a child's on Christmas day when the mask was thrown in her direction. Her hands systematically ran over it, her focus completely on it even as she listened simultaneously to the conversation at hand. It looked like she hadn't heard Nixon's words, but it was quickly proven otherwise when she responded with her own quip.

"I'll do my best, but my right hand has a mind of its own." As if to mark the end of the conversation, the intercom crackled to life. While CC didn't look up from her study of Nixon's mask, her ears picked up whatever information she needed.

"Isn't this mission its own death sentence and prison?" There was no malice in the statement; only a matter of fact tone of voice. There might've been a hint of resignation, but that could be attributed to the fact she'd rather much spend time getting a better gauge of her teammates than listening to the droning voice. She didn't need the info about everyone's tasks; that was pretty much common sense. She looked up briefly to Minerva, who was their medic. Should anyone's bionics fail, she and the doc would be working in tandem.

Yellow eyes slid up to the door, where the woman that had been announced arrived. Like the rest of the team, she stood up, holding the mask in her left hand as she took her messenger bag off the floor. They were an interesting bunch, that was for sure. A shadow fell over her and a hand came within her line of sight. She broke out into a grin as she looked up to the much taller male.

"Aww, I wanted to play with it more." She stuck out a tongue, but handed the mask over. He looked a bit uncomfortable without it. Just as he turned to leave, CC raised a hand, calling up for him to wait for her as she rummaged her bag. She tried to keep in pace with him, his longer strides making it difficult for her. Just as they came in view of the ship, she found what she was looking for.

"Here you go!" A gloved hand gestured for him to open his own, and once he followed orders, CC released a bottle and a piece of cloth sealed in plastic. The former was disinfectant which came out in spray or liquid, depending on which button you pressed. She always kept both at hand. "Disinfectant and cleaning cloth; kinda gross to use it after I've run my hands through it, right?"

Finally, she turned to look at their ship, and let out a low whistle of appreciation. "Hannah, treat her well please. It'd be such a shame for it to become all battered and bruised." It was nice to know that majority of the group agreed with her sentiments, especially aesthetics wise. Sleek and modern, it definitely looked every inch the space ship straight out of a modern sci fi novel. However, she was much more interested in what ran under the hood. Sure, she'd been given the specs and other related information, but there was nothing like actually running around and checking it herself.

Just as she opened her mouth to speak, an unexpected voice beat her to the punch. Minerva, their medic. It was nice she'd chosen to speak. "I agree with Minmin;" Minerva was such a mouthful. Not really. "I'd like to check the engine room out for any errors." Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she knew everyone was replaying what she'd said earlier. If what she said did turn out true, at least they could take comfort in the knowledge their motormouth mechanic would be the first to go. It usually started in the engine room after all.



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Best friends, huh? He supposed that was a good sign. There were plenty of laughs and jests in the air, and if this was any indication to how their actual expedition was going to go - then shit - things would no doubt be interesting to say the least. The announcement ceased and everyone shuffled about accordingly. Hovering over the quick-fingered techie, he waited patiently, but there was little to prepare him for her particular reaction. ||Awww! I wanted to play with it more||. Despite himself, Nixon cracked a grin - a breathy chuckle escaping past his chapped lips. "Maybe later, Cee." He said, amusement finding it's way into his voice. It was as if his mask were legos, and CC was an excitable little kid. Respirator in hand, he gave the girl a funny look as her tongue wiggled at him in mock annoyance. Exchange complete, he casually bumped shoulders with her in passing, eyes rolling and head shaking, only to be flagged down seconds after.

Halting in his extended stride, Nixon would scan their passing crewmates. Tori popping some more skittles, Tactician fiddling with some personal piece of tech, and so on and so forth. Some sort of contentment settled in the man's chest, followed promptly by a feeling of exhilaration. The reality of their expedition had only just struck him, and a sweeping gaze at the ship elicited a satisfied hum from his mouth.

When he'd finally swiveled back to the petite and fiery haired gal to his left, Nixon was met with an open hand containing cleaning supplies. Another semi-amused expression would flitter briefly across his face as the man gave her an up-nod. "Yeah, thanks. Of course." There'd be a time for cleaning once they were on board, for now he pocketed the little bottle and cloth with a grateful, if not stifled smile and slung the mask about his neck again, akin to her swinging headphones.

Metallic hands buried themselves into the depths of grey cargo pants and a duffle bag hung lightly from Nixon's shoulder. Star-Fire certainly had some character and while he was sure some of the crew could stand to stare at the pretty hunk of SpaceShip for a few more hours, he concurred with the Medic's statement. What was the hold-up? Could they hop on board? He wanted to poke around the ship and get settled in just about as much as the next person. Assuming their briefing was done and over with, as soon as he got the cue they were all set, (ie. room assignments or what-have-you) Nixon would take a few strides forward towards the entrance only bothering to toss a dismissive wave of hand over his shoulder.

Farewell, Earth.

But more important than his lackluster goodbye to home, was the announcement he had to make before anyone else could beat him to it.

"...Shotgun!"

All aboard.