risingshepard | 1 Pissed Off Reaper [Action/Voice]

[Alright, let's review: One, she was supposed to be in her cabin waiting for the ship to arrive at the Derelict, two, she's not supposed to have a blaring headache crunching her skull, and three, she's not supposed to be feeling like complete crap barring said headache. So, Luceti, here's her question: why has she been unceremoniously dumped into a forest that doesn't even look like Pragia's greenery, and why does she have a sundress on? She would really, really, really like to know. Sure doesn't help that the familiar, cool feeling of her room is gone and replaced with the humidity of the forest. It wakes her right up when she gets over her initial physical screwball.

There's a slight groan before she starts sitting up.] ...Feels like I just downed a glass of ryncol...what the hell happened...?

[It doesn't take her long to actually stand up, either. Those synthetic parts are a lifesaver, even if she didn't ask for them; when her eyes focus, though, she finds herself staring at her surroundings. ...Alright...where the hell was she?] ...Pragia? No, it couldn't be. [There's too little greenery compared to that forest planet, and none of it's clinging onto any buildings...so where does that put her? Earth? One of the colonies? She's not sure. As with the other discoveries, very little time passes before she finds red wings stuck on her back -- it's as if the Illusive Jackass wanted to screw around with her even more. <_< There's not a peep from her for a while before she starts restraining the urge to shoot something -- like she could, without her trusty pistol...

But something else catches her eye and makes her curiosity resurface -- the journal with her name, and her clothing sitting there right next to it. Not realizing that it can transmit her voice just yet, she picks it up and stares at it.] This looks pretty old-fashioned...why would anyone use this?

[Oh, if only you knew. Feel free to chime in while she inspects it -- it'll be a nice surprise. :P]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Well... Disagreement over the correct thing to do here, I guess. The Third Party thinks that we can only escape by killing everyone, basically. That's my understanding of it, anyway... because people come back to life here even after they're been killed. Sometimes.

A petty dispute then. Fun. Maybe if they'd pull their heads out of their asses and meet up, they'd actually get things done.

...Probably goes without saying, but, will anyone I know end up here sooner or later?

Edited 2012-07-16 12:12 (UTC)

Well, petty... but kind of fundamental, too. These guys have apparently been here for thousands of years, so... makes sense if they're a little crazy.

[He pauses.] They might or they might not. There's been two people that I've known, in the time I've been here.

So what, just letting them sort their own stupidity out is your idea of dealing with it? [...Though there's the possibility of this guy having no choice. She's guessing that, at least.

She's not particularly happy with the idea of her crew being yanked here, either.] Gonna regret asking that, and this. I'm sure of it... Are they of any help?

I don't honestly see any other way of dealing with it. They aren't exactly amenable to reason. Hence all the fighting.

... Who, the people from my world? Well, one of them is gone already. And the other ... Well, she's been kind of helpful, for me, to settle in, if that's what you mean. She's kind of made herself prominent here.

But I don't think that anyone can do that much.

So we're stuck being pawns to their shenanigans. Isn't that nice? [They're like slavers, only you can't shoot them in the eyes. Not a fun deal for Shepard. >_>]

[And his last comment deserves a bit of a brow raise. If only he could see it. :| Snark, much?] Aren't you a pleasant fellow?

Well, I mean... It's not a pleasant topic. I might not add to it, though.

Especially when you're pretty much a pawn to shenanigans for eight months.