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  • 📅 May and June 2024 are YE 46.4 in the RP.

RP [Die Screaming] Glass Jaw Pt-II: Good Men Must Die.

Charmaylarg Dufrain

🎖️ Game Master
RP Date
YE-44 (thats the year, right? we're supposed to do some decimal system or something i think...)
RP Location
It was dark and humid in a cramped and enclosed room lined with little more than five cots to either warr; The ends of each makeshift bed almost touching were they not staggered and a lone, solitary light bar that hung dimly from the ceiling with one end already fallen off the hook as the underpowered yellow tube swung back and forth erringly while bloated insects large as a man's thumb and with beating wings as loud as any creature threw themselves unceasingly at it with enough force to keep the light instrument always mobile.

Besides each bed was little more than a pole with an intravenous bag mostly drained while wrung-empty counterparts mirror them spent as rubber tubes lead into each wrist. Bandages and articles of ruined clothing torn or sliced in most regards pile up in a corner with other trash and detritus as, on one side Two Nepleslian men sweat under too-thick and itchy cotton blankets for the hot and humid environment while on the opposite a more diverse arrangement of an Elysian, a Nepleslian girl, and a half-disassembled free spacer take up the others.

Tobias and Lupin looked rather plain compared to their female counterparts as they lay still and motionless on their cots. Comparatively the other side of the room was a menagerie.

Quilly, sprawled out was separated by two cots from her two fellows but even so one wing, fully extended, was pressed fully up a wall while the other, despite the distance, was practically tickling Carinas' face with her guide feathers. Molotra was half-disassembled from the waist down with most of her important functions crammed into her cupola while her damaged lower-body movement functions in the form of her treads lay offside of her cot piled high and off of her spokes enough to give her enough top-weight to actually fill a cot without breaking it or throwing her off. While Carina; Arguably the most normal in state compared to the two others looked strangely the most out of sorts while she visibly drooled on herself with a dumbfounded half-comatose look of utter contempt and bewilderment.

The five of them snored, gasped, wheezed, or mumbled in their sleep loud enough each to contend with the sound of terrifying insect wings beating against a hot plastic tube of light.

It may very well have continued so had the ground itself not shook like an earthquake hard enough for dust and plaster to fall from the ceiling and even partially darken the room. The violent shaking, lasting only a second or two, was still enough mixed in with dust and smatterings of debris hitting them and causing wracking coughs as the first vestiges of consciousness entered the group.

Confusion set in for most as their last memories, hazy as they were, still left aftershocks as phantom pains and sensations tingled bodies already treated with new synthetic flesh toomany shades white to resemble their skin colors as new scars matched with old.

At the end of the room was no door, but a canvas flap shook momentarily as the air settled.

For those that woke, few were lucky enough under the sheets to even be wearing underwear as was evident from pre-op surgery practices of taking no time to disrobe patients and just cutting their garments off.
For some reason, agains all reason, the only ones wearing anything was molotra; Having taken little enough damage to still have her underclothes.

And Lupin in a pair of, familiar enough, womens underwear...
There was a brief moment after Lupin coughed and let out a raspy cough where something told him to just roll over and remain in the inky void a few moments longer, moments that felt like they stretched on for eons as black tendrils invited him back. Wrapping around his mind with such a warm, inviting embrace that he almost started listening to their sweet siren songs~

Before the lad's bloodshot eyes pried themselves open just a fraction, thick eyelashes batting away the air, thick with dust that Lupin could feel settling on his hair. With a gasp, more of a groan really, Lupin rolled over onto his back and let the canvas scratch against the scarred ridges of his back, muscles weighed down by fatigue and stiffness as the marksman hauled himself upright.

His head span and Lupin's head pounded, his throat dry and raspy as another few splutters ripped themselves free, barely muffled by the back of his hand as Lupin forced his orange eyes to open further and take in more of his surroundings.

The IV bags, this whole field-hospital arrangement, it was clear even to his groggy mind that someone was looking after him and the other bodies. Or at the very least keeping them alive a little longer, why? he hadn't the faintest clue.

Lupin rose up on shaky legs like a baby deer taking its first steps, trying to take a quick head-count of who the other bodies in the room with him were when another pang of agony ripped through his system. Lupin's vision span as he fell most of the way down to the cracked linoleum floor with a grunt, hand finding purchase on the edge of Tobias' cot as the other wrapped around the pole tethered to his arm.

...Then the panties came into view, the undersized thing little more than a jockstrap at best, providing little coverage for this prime example of a Nepleslian stud.

With a low and frustrated growl the stiff tendons in Lupin's hand squeezed tight enough to make the telescoping durandium pole in his grasp buckle inwards before he forced himself upright, ripping the intravenous line out from his forearm with minimal effort.

The sniper didn't say anything, he just huffed and looked across at the other reeling bodies before casting his gaze towards that canvas flap. He was definitely still unsteady on his feet and opted to rest a little of his weight on the IV stand, ready to brandish it to the best of his groggy ability if need-be.
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Back to the Hospital again

Tobias' rest and healing was, as with his compatriots, rudely interrupted by the ground heaving underneath him. As lights flickered, as dust and cracked plaster spilled down onto his face, the youthful IPG operator rose to his feet as swiftly as his still-healing muscles enabled. While the operator was pleasantly surprised to find the bullet wound in his thigh now healed, it was somewhat disconcerting as he remembered the group's previous experience in the hospital simulation.

Now risen, the young man began to set about removing his IV, and beginning to tear up the cotton blanket he'd been underneath, with the aid of his remaining knife. The man's now bare calf popped open, and he retrieved the serrated composite blade and began to go to work cutting the blanket into strips intended to be used either to patch wounds or provide some level of modesty to anyone who cared. As he did so, the younger man's mindware began to exit standby mode, running some very basic checks.

Inertial navigation was the first thing to come online, confirming to him that they were still, in fact, on Ukk, though it would take some time to narrow it down to a location on the planet and see how far from their previous shelter they'd been moved. Next were the various systems which comprised the hacking suite which had gotten the twenty-four-year-old volunteered into the IPG in the first place. It would take time for him to produce any tangible results, but Tobias began to reach out around him, searching for vulnerable networked systems which he could attempt to gain an advantage or information from.

Finally, as he finished the task of cutting apart the blanket, he played back some of the last things he remembered. The fight with the parasite zombies he remembered, but as he played through footage, he was surprised to find footage from some time after he'd passed out. More than likely, this must have been Carina's perspective, with the vision-link between them sending him footage that he was only just now parsing.

Locust, that was what she'd seen in the brief moment before everything faded to black again. Locust was back, and on the planet. That was good news, as far as Tobias was concerned. Locust was likely to have some kind of answers about their mission here, and about what exactly it was that he and the others had all seen before waking up in prison the first time. Answers about him.

The blanket now reduced to a pile of cotton strips, the IPG agent set about handing them out, several to each person, as they woke up. "Looks like we're in it now." He said as he made his rounds, "We're still on Ukk at least, but I've got no idea where we are aside from the fact that we've got an old friend to thank for making sure we didn't bite it in the city."
Hey, you. You're finally awake.

Quilly's groggy return to the waking world was slow, much like anyone else's. The familiar, warm feeling of Mishhuvurthyar toxin - a bit like the buzz of alcohol - wasn't quite letting go of her body yet. The large yet short demolitionist had to slide her body backwards and push up on the wall behind her to sit up, her wings shifting about and flopping onto the floor uselessly as new angles of gravitational attraction assaulted the joints within. Carina was unlucky enough to end up with the tickling feathers directly on top of her face, and their olive-skinned owner hadn't noticed... Or maybe didn't care.

Not again... Quilly thought to herself. The last time she's encountered Heli was.... Nearly a decade ago and back at home. The asshole who injected her with it back then had almost killed her in the process - too much toxin for her body, putting her into shock. Needless to say, feeling that warm buzz again had her on edge.

She looked around and saw Lupin, holster still attached, holding onto an IV stand for support. Tobias was in better shape and had busied himself with scrapping his sheets, which reminded the quail to at least raise up her own to preserve a small measure of decency while she was still drifting above the ground (mentally speaking). He was at least able to provide a briefing to the half-unconscious room.

Good news, possibly? She had her feathers still. Might even be able to fly by now, once she had control of her body.
When the last thing you see before your eyes closes. Possibly forever. It shouldn’t be a crazy bitch with chicken legs. Robotic or otherwise. She felt a little wetness trickle down the side of her mouth, pooling against her cheek. Her look had not changed as she lay there. Her awareness and motor functions steadily returning. The feel of the material on which she lay upon and the blanket on her bare skin told her all she needed to know.

“Fffff-” her voice slurred, trying again, “Fusschin’wing! Gerruf’me!” weakly, batting at the feathers tickling her cheek. Her other hand groped at the bedding to pull herself up. Her muscles, synthetic as they were, shuddered in protest. But she was a stubborn thing and finally, ever so slowly, Carina rose. Her eyes still looked glassy, and she came close to allowing the blanket to fall into her lap. Decency would have come close to being gone had she not caught it in time. But it had exposed enough on the sides before she wrapped an arm across her chest to hide everything.

Her mind moved like warm syrup. Which was to say it moved, but slower than she would have liked. Waffles be damned. It was almost comical at how she drunkenly glared at Tobias.

“We ish’nt now?!” her voice going shrill with impotent rage, batting at Quilly’s wing gently lest she fractures it. “In’it from’th ‘egin’. Now she’s back.” Growling the last while blearily looking around the room. Then down at her hand, feeling the IV there and her eyes trailed up to the almost spent bag. With a grunt of approval at the choice, the medic let it be for now.

Then flicking the crux toward Lupin, “Thsh’fuck he get clothes for?”
The Room (Starring Tommy Wiseau as "Johnny")
Sore muscles, dry throats, and cracked lips paired with each marine induced some thought that their intubation was well longer than any of them might surmise and was confirmed by Tobias. There was little in the way of devices to pair with; But a couple Datajockeys in range offered little more than that it was still in the early hours of the morning and at least two days since their ordeal at the shelter if it all added up.

One thing he learned through sheer luck was that in one such datajocket was a paired signal to multiple paired signals; including six in the very room they all were currently inhabiting. It didnt take a rocket scientist to tell it was the charges in their head receiving a signal, though each one was doing little more than that and did nothing more than transmitting a still active link while the charge itself was innert thanks to himself and Carina. If the number and location was correct then he had essentially jury-rigged a tactical map by accident that showed at least ten other marines nearby in what had to be other rooms.

One such signal however was marginally closer than the others and by its bearing was either heading right their way or close to it. It made an unhurried pace parallel to them, stopping frequently before it was right about their rooms flap.
A man threw it open briefly, panned around the room and started to pull back into a hall of some kind before he made a doubletake. Lingering a little to long on the most attention-grabbing figure in the room in the form of an upright quilly draped in a thin sheet and her wings still half sprawled.

"Uh-" The marine gawked at her much too long before remembering himself after noticing literally everyone else and pulling out of the room with a half-choked, half-mumbled something or other.

Tobias watched his little signal walk a few paces down the hall, then back towards their room, then back down the hall, then once again back towards their room where he threw open the flap one more time. He stood there, clearly unsure of what he thought he was doing as it seemed all to the world he was either about to propose to or outright try to abduct Quilly. But after more than one hostile glare and now sure whatever he thought he saw was confirmed he glared back the first commer and then strode out with as manly and clearly forced uninterested shake of the head.

Though he still lingered just outside the flap before starting off down the hall and pausing at likely another room and then another to continue searching for whatever...

"Do try to remember that at the end of the day many of us are convicted of serious crimes and it is not wise to tempt those with weaker inhibitions; Miss Bird."

The sixth person in the room made himself known as Rungo Bungo's skin seemed to shift from the walls in the corner he was crouched in as the mutant stood up straight in all his fully clothed glory. Compound eyes twitched to look at everyone in different directions as the one person none of them could recall being in the shelter fight was once again in their midst.
Molotra remained frozen in place even as they were awoken by Lupin's commotion.

Their tread-legs busted and disassembled, a fleshy left arm bandaged and ragged, and a seized-up iron right one as good as an anchor.

But it was the spirit that was really broken, slipping between bitter memories, and the grim portents of the present. The ego was dead, and with it any shame of appearing so visually busted open. The sparkle of cerebral connections were still there, of course, but what good could come of it? Reflexes told her that Carina and Tobias' mindware was reaching out, but she didn't join them.

Something within her urged her back to sleep, wanting to focus on that distant voice, that world-like, god-like AI that she had dreamed of so long ago now... Why did she feel like she was missing something? Like there was some occult action that great being wished her to perform?

Was this purgatory her punishment for falling short? Had she failed some great test without even realising what had occurred?

The genetically engineered forklift cursed their genes. The limited scope of their mind's construction. Their helpless, blithering ignorance about what it all meant.

Most of all, she caught herself watching Quilly's wings flutter and bluster about again. Even busted up, they seemed to signify something holy.

Words could not form. It was like a knife, the seething jealousy burrowing into the pit of their stomach.

So she just lay there.
A Spacer, an Elysian and a Mutant walk into a hospital...

As Rungo moved, Tobias turned slightly to face the mutant as he made about gathering the remaining scraps of sheet that hadn't been given out to others into a rough loincloth. While he could have used the full blanket as a robe or toga, that would have hindered the operator's movement to an unacceptable degree anyhow, and dignity was the least of the young man's concerns at this point. Rungo had escaped unscathed, which meant he'd either run to save his own hide, or was more than he had been letting on since the start of the mission.

"Rungo." The young operator said, "Good to see someone made it out in one piece. Tell me, how'd you manage that with the squids' zombies all around?" The question was posed mildly enough, but with a slight edge to it, testing Rungo's temperament as Tobias watched and recorded everything he could to pore over later. There was something more going on, he was sure of it, and Rungo was certainly playing a part.
Why does this keep happening, anyways?

"I'll stop tempting people when I stop wakin' up barer than a Yammie tubekid," the Elysian tossed back at the chameleon. She didn't feel like playing around after this was, what, the third time in just as many months? And she was half a popsicle the second time...

The unfried chicken didn't spend long directing her attention Rungo's way, either. Then again, it seemed Tobias was already Tobiasing so maybe she could play "good cop"... if that would even work while her scarred-up skin was fully visible. Sexy in some ways, but also ugly. Hard to tell if it'd work in either direction, but it'd probably just be a distraction.

"Are those built into your body, Lupin? You keep waking up in them and at this point, I'm wondering if you secretly like it."

Quilly decided to take the attempt at clothing Tobias set out and put it on. She was surveying everyone and Lupin'd caught her attention first - but quickly, the bird noticed the 'spacer's staring, and figured she might be in a heap of trouble. Two bum arms.

"Want some help, Molo?" Quilly's voice cane much more quietly this time, to not interrupt the conversation Tobias was attempting to kindle. Luckily, the bird's turning to look at Molotra freed Carina from the ticklish assault on her face. Quilly had either not noticed, or simply not bothered to mention the medic's actions, but she was aware enough that Carina was still gonna be out for a couple minutes and, really, couldn't speak properly anyways.

She just needed to not turn her back to the door, what with the guys outside...
The closest thing to a hospital we've seen in a good while

Lupin's predatory eyes followed the bumbling doctor... field medic? whoever he was, silently staying glued to the figure as he entered through and quickly left through the canvas flap. The sniper let out a little huff at Quilly's comment, noting that the other two women were beginning to stir... or at least they were awake, Molotra's seemingly catatonic state did cause some concern.

"Quilly I swear, if you keep... just, eh whatever," Lupin grumbled, licking his chapped lips and swallowing down a little bit of saliva to soothe his dry throat as he watched the Elysian honey up to the formerly hidden chameleon-man in their midst, scoffing as he abandoned the IV stand to go help out where he could. His weary bones were dragged along and half-heartedly thrown onto the edge of Carina's cot, which squeaked and complained as his weight was added to that of her cybernetic bulk.

Lupin cleared his throat and turned to the more-active form of the squad's sole surviving medic, looking down over his shoulder at her with a sympathetic glimmer breaking through his stoic eyes. "Hey 'rina, those cobwebs clearing up?" he queried before turning to Molotra's pile of disassembled parts, muscles straining try and prop the cupola up a bit so he could fit the tracks back on.

He wanted to talk to the lil 'spacer and ask how she was going, but it was clear she needed this... whatever Molotra was currently doing in that coppery brain of hers, so the lad made himself useful for when she was ready to return to the land of the living, the linkages of her tracks clinking against each other in his hands.

Rungo promptly ignored Tobias' probing as he continued to act as the only responsible adult in the room having arrived fully dressed. His gaze never lingered, or perhaps couldn't as each eye looked about in different directions asymmetrically from each of them in turn to seemingly random points with ceasing persistence to have absolute spacial awareness and object permanence.

"The answer to that is irrelevant, Mr.Killgee" He emphasized Tobias' alleged surname with more of a questioning tone than a skeptical one; Poking his own holes in suspected continuity. "We haven't much time."

The mutant was always aggressively hunched; Never imposing or well defined. But when he stood to his full height he visibly towered a head and a half over even Lupin and as he straightened his posture and squared his shoulders there was a noticeable set and definition to him that as he looked down his muzzle of a nose at Tobias the sheer indifference towards the other man with the same cold gaze Duece would dawn when her mask would slip.

Rungo Bungo was no Duece. Nobody was; Save perhaps the haughty teenager in a questionable dream/simulation, but this mutant was putting his cards on the table and demanded their attention if not respect.

"Of the eight survivors of our initial unit one was struck from muster yesterday morning from SMX infiltration nobody else was targetted by," The mutant referred to the poor excuse of a Nepleslia during the pre-firefight who had been half bawling his eyes out before Rhindol tackle-decked him into unconsciousness and the aforementioned tank of a mutant.

"On a hunch, I checked in on Rhindol Cruz who currently remains in critical condition and found in his intravenous rotation was set a bag was tinted with a color on a spectrum beyond normal Nepleslian standard. Upon switching it to another patient in the same room whatever was mixed into the bag would have euthanized Rhindol as it did his replacement just hours later."

Without even pausing to casually glance over the murder of a fellow Nepleslian he continued, "Just this morning I, myself, was subject to what I believe was an attempt on my life after one of the marines I swapped my billet with had been stabbed to death by a fellow marine unprompted. I naturally concluded that our unit is subject to some form of targetted censure for whatever reason and after passing on the information that you all were likely to wake within the next few hours, sheer coincidence mind you, I chose to wait here to flush out a lead. But now the familiarity and some of your charges brough into context..."

What Rungo did was not so much loom over Tobias so much as lean back down to his level as the mutant returned to his hunched and meager posture reminiscent of an early morning cartoon villainous wizard with cliche hunched and gnarled back and limbs.

"What, and who are the five of you?"
The question was spoken to Tobias but delivered to the entire room; Princes, elysian, spacers, and all.


Everything was slowly catching up to the spacer. She was not a bastion in a storm, or numb to all the combined experiences the mentally hardier Nepleslians could endure. She was a simpler being of humbler origins where the free folk such as she felt and experienced differently.

The noise. It did not fade so much as became white noise to her indifference. There was peace in nothing, even as her fracturing mind sought the normal rationalizations to justify everything.

To just keep going. To simply accept all that has happened and move on.

All Nepleslian saying and things. Too much time with them and too long without returning home to the stars propper.

Stars...The memory of interactions however brief with something more; Few spacers ever truly interacted with transcendent beings. Before that she had never encountered anything beyond the type-v's like those on the ships. She knew there was more such as the old ones in the polysentience who predated the great powers of the Kikyo sector, and beyond even them was the Macro-AI like Cincereal and Invalid whose cold indifference in their calculations towards unknown and unfathomable goals could wipe even the haughty cats into nothingness if ever they daned to waste the processing time. Molotra knew what she encountered was closer a divinity of her people than what Nepleslians might consider a god.
A being beyond the type-vs of the motherships, younger than the old ones, but with the growth measuring to the greater SI who once flourished amongst the great lighthouse. Still a mere spark compared to the great Macro-AI like Cinereal or that on the relay moon but still damaging in raw computational ability enough to damage those sensitive to such things like exposing one of the free folk to its raw processing power.

She was in a long-term mental concussion of her mindware capabilities. But even know, seemingly so long after the ordeal in this room of white noise she could still hear those broken notes it related to in its presence. Closing her eyes she could almost feel-

There was something there still. It was like catching the glint off a single strand of a spiders web in the right light but it was still there.

A connection to her, and not just Molotra but to Tobias and Carina's mindware even if it was not noticeable to the less mindware-adapted minds of Nepleslians. There were ships in orbit, enough electricity in the ionosphere for latent polysentience broadcasting from the planet to the ships and beyond the horizon like threads of a spiders web...

She would not heal because the wound was still open. It. The burgeoning digital stargod known as ███ ████ ██ ██████-

A wince, its name she knew but to think it was static on the mind that discouraged simply speaking it unbidden. But it was still there, still watching them; And many others like them she knew somehow as the visage of the old admiral in her throne of a chair came to mind as she leaned back watching with indifference only to watch its predictions on their actions unfold exactly as it planned.

And then from staring off at the streams of data it moved like a symphony to those distant notes it looked at Molotra with the dead visage of faux humanity that it wore as an avatar and the thin line that it wore for a mouth on its face pulled ever upwards before she was washed away as her feeling towards the connection was tuned and even the strands connected to the others she knew were still connected to her were hidden from her.

The feeling she had felt as the white noise became distinct again to individual voices, all the experience of it did not abide or lessen in the slightest but instead was manipulated out of her periphery in a way she could not sense but knew it was there.

"What, and who are the five of you?"
Molotra's vision faded back in to observe the rusted gratings of the ceiling, with the silhouette of a brown-haired angel and a stoic adonis hanging over them. Felt like she recognised them, but the sentiments of the flesh felt distant. A mere porthole out of diving bell that was her heavy mind.

"It's... her... she's still within..." Tired, sunken eyes failed to deviate from the ceiling. Her dried out voice was a hoarse whisper. "...All of us... the... illuminated lady of the... void..."

An abysmal smile. How could the spacer even explain what she meant, when mercenary didn't even really understand what this hidden god was, herself? Some ancient alien computer, a Sourcian? Some offshoot of Freespacer syntelligence, like the Strat-ops? Too powerful. To unknowable.

Concerns of mortality and the preservation of her physical meat shell fading, Molotra's mindware ramped up scanning attempts, scratching away at any local networks they could access. Security cameras, smart weapon self-diagnostic systems, any active bionic components- Stumbling and clumsy hacking attempts by AI standards, but more than willing to bluescreen or overheat anything that detected their presence.

She didn't think she had an appreciable chance of beating this unseen presence, or the willpower to fight it, ever. It might as well have been a god of tribal times, as all-powerful as they were fickle and uncaring.

But they could find out what ships or other vehicles in the area. The general amount of people here. If there were any Power Armours. NMX prisoners. Maybe some larger chassis they could join themselves to, and increase mobility beyond mere tank tracks.

That was the answer, wasn't it? The frail shell must be made to match the enduring soul.
Lupin's pretty eyelashes blinked a few times as he strained to hear what Molotra was whispering, head whipping backwards and forwards between the some-assembly-required Freespacer and the Chamelon-man with his revelation and admittance of knowledge about the radioactive markers. Was she still coming off her anaesthetics? was something wrong? Between the sassy medic and little mister black-hat surely they could figure it out... hopefully.

"Lupin Adamska Kennedy, Marine sniper of the 309th... and apparently a distant relation of Hanya's royal family?" Lupin dumped very unceremoniously on this stranger's lap with little more than a look over one shoulder, he shrugged and stopped trying to reassemble Molotra's tracks, standing up to move closer to the little 'spacer.

"Just something I've heard, not sure if I trust it yet, but you asked," the sniper, who was built (and dressed) more like a male stripper, shrugged before putting a knee down on Molotra's cot, a few soft hairs reaching down to caress her face as he put that slightly knife-tipped ear close to her mouth. Listening more closely for any more whispered murmurs or nuggets of wisdom that might help him help her out of this trance-like state.
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Quilly had finished giving Molo the gift of coverings - to call it clothing would still be generous even for the standards that everyone had woken up to several times at this point. Seems the spacer wasn't coherent yet, based on the drug-induced half-coherent mumbling about... A god or something. At least it seemed that Molo hadn't overdosed.

Lupin was busy trying to listen in so the Quail decided to side-eye Ringo. "Quilly. Demolitions expert. Also search and rescue when I'm not makin' rubble." The answer was curt and generic, a bit cold compared to the cheery attitude she'd put out if she considered Ringo friendly. considering his overall suspicious actions, miss Ash wasn't going to give out information that Ringo could easily use against her yet. Unlike Lupin who claimed to be some sort of prince, even if he only half-believed it.
Room (By Tommy Wiseau)

Though Rungo loomed over the relatively short Nepleslian, Tobias kept an unbothered expression on his face. Show weakness, he knew, and the lizard-like mutant would try to push further. While everyone else had chosen to give him relatively frank answers, Tobias remained more cautious. After nearly a decade as one of Nepleslia's most skilled hackers, and having spent half that time with the IPG, he knew better than to trust easily. Rungo was still a relative unknown, more skilled than he might have initially appeared, useful perhaps, but not an ally yet.

Still, the evidence he presented was compelling enough to reveal Rungo's capabilities, while the mutant might try to avoid any kind of direct confrontation and ingratiate himself to authority here in the field, he was at least perceptive enough to pick up on things that others might miss. An asset for now, to be used until he could be trusted further. There was also the issue of whatever was bothering Molotra now, something itching at the back of Tobias' mindware that she could more easily percieve.

Rungo would be told what he needed to know for now, Tobias decided, enough to pique his curiosity and keep him by their side for now. "For now, we're very much like you, Rungo. We're marines in a situation we don't know nearly enough about, watching our backs and looking to figure out what's going on and who we can trust. As for myself? I couldn't give you answers if I wanted to."
A flat, unsatisfied look was somehow discernable on the inhuman face of Rungo as he parsed the puerile answers of Lupin and Quilly. He did not miss the correlation between Lupins stated name and what their crimes had listed him as.

As for being a Hanyan noble, the mutant gave no inclination of emotion.
"So be it." he came to some kind of unspoken conclusion without giving any hint of his thoughts as without further adieu he stepped back into the corner. It was one thing to know the mutant was apt at concealment, it was another to see it in action as his body and posture visibly conformed to better fit the crease of the wall and his skin actively darkened several shades to better match the wall. With just the simple fatigues and gear to make an outline, it was easy to miss him in the sparse light when the eye could not so easily lock onto a familiar humanoid shape and simply glossed over the macro-micro patterns he created.

If impressive at first it was awkward a few heartbeats later to simply stare at the mutant still in half-vogue as he just stood flattened against the wall silently like a piece of furniture. He seemed simply content to watch them as he had before, master peeping-tom he was in a room full of half-nude and attractive young people.

While this went on Molotra learned how out of her depth she was. From where she stood...

From where she 'sat' there became very obvious the limits she was facing. From her connection to the polysentience still solid in the ionosphere and her own mindware her attempts were as fruitful as diving into murky water looking for a coin she knew was there but not knowing exactly where.

Latent and negligible signals from everything with an electronic pulse usually white noise were indistinguishable from static in its abundance as a city around them filled with equipment and the electro-telepathic communications of Neko while larger indistinguishable signals of unknown origins obscured most else like light polution while the many ships still in orbit might as well have been just more stars as everything combined turned a small pool of murky water into an appropriate analogy resembling a much larger body of clouded and unavicable water.

Someone finally arrived shortly after staring at the elusive mutant became beyond boring as the sound of heavy boots stomping on the floor as a sense of tension hung amongst the room after tales of more mystery killings and conspiracy with them as the next potential targets. With little time to act or anything to couple with for arms the stepping stopped right outside their makeshift cloth door and was flung open unceremoniously.

The woman who studied the odd scene in the room seemed at a loss for words before abruptly spinning on her heel to none-too-gently shove a second, male, marine as he tried to shift into the room; Causing him to drop the hard plastique crate he was carrying right on his partner's foot which caused a stream of barely understandable curses and half-kicks at the fabric door until with an admonishment of 'Just go!' and a scuffle of boots it was just her left to her tyrade.

"And he just blunders in knowing full well you guys are-" She began to pace about, ranting to the many injustices her former battle buddy 'Joel' committed that seemed to start from the moment they pulled him out of a cryostasis pod and placed him in her care like some kind of punishment for crimes and transgressions a literal convicted prisoner might have deserved to have forced upon her frail and underserving-

She continued on. She for lack of a nameplate was a surprisingly average-looking young woman despite the loose fitting fatigues in her mid to late twenties by Yamataian standards but lacking the sureal and unnatural beauty of the catkinners and more in size and proportions as freckles and even a few pimples dotted her alabaster skin and short-frazzled ginger hair over her lithe and almost anorexic frame with almost boyish proportions.

"And then on top of that I saw him scratching himself when he thought I wasn't looking! And-"

She practically gasped and turned a complete bipolar corner when she sulked and sat on Lupins empty bed with her head in her hands as she began to groan.

"Im sorry, I did it again." She sighed, lightly slapping her reddened cheeks, and looked between Carina, Quilly, and the stoic Molotra before her mouth opened in a silent Oh. Scrambling back to her feat the young woman rushed over to the flap of a door and dragged in the small plastique crate and then back into the hall for another and into the center of the room. The first was obvious in its contents when it spilled open as semi-worn fatigues spilled out with only a few tears and questionable red-stains over patched holes were noticeable alongside socks, underwear and underclothes, gloves, and in the other case multiple sized pairs of boots and miscellaneous duty footwear to complete the ensemble.

"Sorry!" She apologized again for no apparent reason and began unpacking clothing onto Lupins bed into neat, OCD-inspired folded piles as she first examined Carina, Quilly, and then Molotra to guestimate their sizes and parcel out appropriate clothing.

She was even nice enough to just outright tear up the back of a few shirts and blouses for Quillys' wings.
When she then turned to Tobias and Lupin, however, the girls face twisted into a sneer of clear disgust at the two before getting to her feet and balling up random bits of clothing.

"Eyes. Away. Assholes!" She punctuated every word with a projectile of harmless clothing that was of no real threat to them until the boots became airborne and even Tobias was curtailed before she ran out of things to throw and remembered she had an entire duty belt including a pistol and knife. Lupin for his part was forced back after a deliberately aimed kick for his royal parts instead hit him square in the left buttock.

"Don't even think about turning around or ill cut it off, troglodytes." She sneered at them.

"Anyways I'm Francis~" Bipolar mode switched again as she turned back to the girls and annoyingly tutted over dressing the still placid Molotra.
"Commissar Francis Euphoria, Formerly of the 67th Sunderstorm, Nepleslian Star Army; Blackmans' own." A jaunty salute was offered to the girls before she quickly sneered at the backs of the two men to make sure their attention was still not misplaced despite the fact the obscured Rungo was still in the corner seeing everything from the start.

"Guess it's the Star Military now though. No empire anymore..." She changed moods and tunes like changing channels ass a note of depression slipped in before it was then overruled by voice-cracking enthusiasm.

"I'm supposed to reprocess you back to duty by lunch; The colonel is preparing the final offensive before the orbitals can land and Sergeant Zelegar has been wanting updates on you guys practically every hour for the past couple days she been downright terrifying, But don't tell Easy I said that about her though."

"Anyways I cant wait to get this all over with so the layabout in orbit can land and we can get back to the swamp; I've only got five more years after whats shaved off from this mission before I can join the rehabilitated staff and they let them serve it awake so we can learn about re-integrating into society and-"

She continued to ramble...

For her part, Carina remained tight-lipped beyond just saying “I’m tha’medic.” to the chameleon mutant. Filing that ability of his away. Granted in her state while the ‘Commisar’ rambled, she showed signs of knowing what that rank was. Her eyebrows rising at the mention of Blackman. Not many people spoke of Emperor Blackman these days. He was just a by-blow in the mutilated history of Nepleslia and the sector at large. Once the boys were good and turned around, Carina let the sheet fall and snatched up the pre-offered clothing. Knowing the mutant was still there, watching in silence the young woman made sure to use the sheet to hide her putting the underwear on.

Bra fixed, she grimaced a little. The damned thing was a little small, squishing her chest a tad. But it worked well enough. And once clad in something other than her birthday suit, Carina started in on the uniform. All the while wondering who had worn it last. Who’s blood was on it. And why Rolo was in such an awe-induced trance.

“We gotta be careful with Rungo. That invisible shit could bite us. We need something to counter it. Just in case, Tobby.”
her ‘voice’ coming over the private network of Tobias, Molotra, and herself. “ ‘ey, Rolo, you mind interfacing with my Jane? Wanna make sure she’s shiny. Don't worry, she won't bite. Jus' be polite.” throwing in a little Free Folk terminology for the Type-2’s benefit. And hopefully, snap her out of the daze.

“‘preciate’tha clothes there, Francis.” using the woman’s name, “Kind’a cool last name y’got.” tossing in a compliment and small grin. Who the hell had Euphoria as a surname? Still, was kind of cool.

As she dressed, she kept an eye on Quilly. Islanders couldn’t be trusted. Fuckers would rob you blind if given the chance. And being a fine, upstanding citizen of Los Apagos, what little she had she intended to keep. “Y’alright there shortstack?” cooing at Quilly.
Despite the relatively mild abuses of the crew's new acquaintance, Tobias took them in stride. Best not to irritate this new face too much while the situation was still precarious enough. Too many wrong words and just as likely as not they'd end up needing to fight their way out of what could otherwise be a useful situation. Tobias did his best to catch the clothes tossed at him by watching through the contact lens link between himself and Carina, bundling fatigue pants shirt into one arm and boots in another before the belt struck him in the back of the head, causing him to let out a small "Uff."

Carefully making about pulling the pants tossed to him on, Tobias probed a bit at their new acquaintance. Was her reaction to the men simply mild misandry, or related to something else? It would be annoying to have to go through Carina to ask any questions of Francis, but it would be doable if it came to it. "I assure you Commissar, we'd rather not be in this state of undress either. Thank you for the clothes by the way," The hacker said as he pulled the shirt down over his head.

Following this, he fastened the belt around his waist. Regardless of whether or not Francis had truly intended to give one or all of them firearms, he was going to make the most of it for the time being. If she asked for it back, well, he still had at least one concealed knife. "Am I clear to turn around now?" He asked in a joking tone, raising his hands slightly as he watched Francis' reaction through Carina's contact lens.

<<I'm keeping an eye on him, Carina.>> The operator said, briefly flicking his eyes into the infrared spectrum where, despite Rungo's chameleon-like skin making him hard to observe in the normal spectrum of light, he still lit up. <<I'd like to think that they made me prepared for situations like this, whatever it was that the IPG really did to me.>>
All Carina and Tobias got out of Molotra's mindware was rolling rhythms of static, like a number station created from pure audio feedback noise.

The mind remained separated, reaching out into the aether with it's many invisible arms, methodically trying to grasp at and backdoor access every single device within range.

In meatspace, the upper half of the freespacer remained almost catatonic when Lupin and Quilly had tried to manipulate their body, and only met the strange officer with a dull expression. She cooperated as a drone might- As an unenlightened type two might- but the independent ghost figment of herself was looking down on that hair dresser's doll with disgust.

"...You hate... the Y genetic element." They spoke as a small rasp, barely audible. Not due to embarrassment, they were actually quite blunt, almost childish. "...This data should be expressed... with honestly... to prevent transgressions..."
Lupin let out a small grunt and subsequent grumble as Francis' poorly aimed kick glanced off his butt, the slightly-less-secret-prince rubbing the tender, lace-framed muscle before turning away fully. They weren't in the best condition but having something vaguely resembling fresh clothes was nice, and they even seemed to mostly fit, save for a fairly tight undershirt that hugged the contours of his torso like a glove.

"Sergeant Zelegar is here?" He asked, almost chancing a surprised glance back over one shoulder before remembering the boyish blonde's threats, instead keeping his peripheral vision on the chameleon-man's heat signature as Lupin stowed that lacy garment away in his pocket.

Oh boy did he have questions for Easy.

"Has she told you much about what happened on her way here?" Lupin continued, he'd seen Easy's body go as cold as it would in that sweltering bitch of a wasteland, was this Easy Francis spoke of just brainspider data in a new body?
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