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BELT A Little Bird Told Me

Discussion in 'Private Roleplay' started by Antumbralite, Jan 10, 2018.

  1. Diarmuid O'Sullivan

    Diarmuid O'Sullivan UN Renegade

    Messages:
    56
    Diarmuid wasn't too concerned with other figures around. Most wanted to stay away from brawlers, the one on top seemed rabid. He was focused squarely on making sure Grissom wasn't going to tear his throat out. Diarmuid's teeth gritted as he saw the other man's eyes nearly pop out of his head. Then Grissom seemed to go cross eyed before slumping.

    Diarmuid pushed the unconscious man off him, sitting up with a wince. A Belter was standing there, the same elongated frame that Diarmuid had gotten used to seeing out here. He was armed so he kept a wary gaze on the man as he rose. Grissom was down for the count, he'd been hit hard enough on the skull that a bull gorilla would have collapsed.

    "Thanks" he managed, his own hand moving warily to his side. The Belter hadn't drawn on him yet, he was holding his sidearm by the barrel. "To whom do I owe the pleasure?"
     
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  2. Sparrow

    Messages:
    33
    Shepherd blinked at @Dieter Kohler, shocked to see the familiar face. At first, he struggled to come up with a proper way to react and opted to follow Dieter's example. A bright, albeit forced, smile spread over his bruised features and he gave a nervous laugh. "Oh, y'know how it is, man. Trouble has a way of finding me, yeah?"

    He cleared his throat with a cough and shot a quick glance back towards the grappling men, perking a brow when he saw @Antumbralite clobber the larger man on the back of the head, knocking him out cold. At least that problem was dealt with for now. He thought to himself and turned his attention back to his old friend.

    There was only a small window of time available to him before station security would arrive at the scene, and he needed to be long gone from here before that happened.

    "Look, Kohler, I'd love to stay and catch up, but I've really gotta get this" he lightly patted the side of the crate for emphasis "to the warehouse or my boss'll string me up by my toenails."

    It was a weak excuse, he knew that, but he needed to get a move on or he and the girl were going to have much bigger problems.

    [​IMG]
    Tucked away inside the crate, Sparrow trembled with fear and from the endorphins that had flooded her system. Even if she couldn't hear the conversation outside, she knew it was imperative that she stay perfectly still and silent. Whatever Smoker was doing, it was dangerous, but she genuinely believed that he was trying to help her. At the very least, he was keeping her away from more of Fist's beatings. That had to count for something, right?

    The side of the crate gently vibrated twice against her back, an oddly comforting sensation.

    Even so, her thoughts turned back to the glimpse of the man who looked like @Diarmuid O'Sullivan . Had it been him? Was he still alive? Should she try to reach him some how? Or was he in on this entire debacle?
     
  3. Antumbralite

    Antumbralite Keith Caileanach

    Messages:
    143
    Character Biography:
    Bio
    Once Keith was confident the large Belter was unconscious, he turned his attention to the contact. They needed to make themselves scarce; Pallas Station's security team was likely on their way to apprehend them. "Pleasantries later," Keith said curtly. "We gotta move, koyo." The man picked himself up off the deck without too much of a struggle, so Keith assumed he could walk. Trotting over to Dieter and his new companion, Keith felt the stares from the crowd burning a hole in his back. There would be no shortage of witnesses.

    "What's the plan? Wouldn't be smart to head back to the ship right now, sasa ke?" The question was directed at Dieter, but Keith's eyes fixated on Shepherd. As Keith tucked his pistol back into his belt, he damned his luck. The crew was supposed to be taking it easy, laying low, and recuperating while The Albatross received its upgrades. The way it was looking, they would be dodging the authorities instead. Explaining his intervention in a brawl of unsavory characters would draw even more attention to the fact that he was trying not to draw attention to himself, and that raised a whole slew of questions Keith was not willing to answer.

    Not to mention that they still needed to locate Wren's missing person.
     
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  4. Dieter Kohler

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    Character Biography:
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    “Sounds like somebody else I know,” Dieter laughed, with a wink, leaning a hip casually against the box on the cart.

    Following Shepherd’s glance cast back towards the conflict, Dieter managed to catch Keith’s vicious pistol butt - an observation that warmed him to his core. When his old comrade looked back over, he looked guiltier than a porcupine next to a flat tire. Dieter simply rolled his eyes as soon as the man started speaking, though he patiently waited for him to finish before scoffing.


    “Wowwww, Shep. You know you’re talking to the grandmaster of bullshit, right?”
    Shepherd, mustering out and moving out to the Belt to push cargo in a warehouse? He laughed again, shrugging and holding his hands up to indicate to Shep that he was free to go. “But fine, if that’s how it’s gonna be, don’t let he hold you up, brother. We’ll grab a drink next time.”


    He turned to walk away, but Keith and one of the combatants that Shep had been ‘coincidentally’ fleeing from were already on top of them. Dieter’s eyes narrowed, darting between Keith and the newcomer. “The ship? Wait. Does that mean you found the -”

    He trailed off. If this was their contact, did that mean the equally battered Shep was somehow involved?
     
  5. Diarmuid O'Sullivan

    Diarmuid O'Sullivan UN Renegade

    Messages:
    56
    Diarmuid finished checking his jaw was in place, wincing at a sudden stab of pain. "Agreed" he grunted, working out a kink in his shoulder. He tapped his side to make sure his sidearm was still there. The tall Belter was already moving to get his partner but Diarmuid's eyes narrowed as he saw the third man make as if to leave.

    The crate pusher looked edgy. The other man was Inner born and had the sort of look that marked training, whether as security or a mercenary. The same look Diarmuid hoped he gave off when he wasn't limping, twinging in pain, and sporting a few bruises. "We won't be going just yet lads. Not until we take a wee gander what's inside that there crate". His head gave a jerk to emphasize it. His right hand was resting on the butt of his handgun. It wasn't drawn but the threat was there. "Yer man back there seemed fierce eager to grab a hold of it too."

    A shootout in a station corridor wasn't how he wanted to end it all. "Or we could all take a stroll to somewhere not here". A point evident by how fast the crowd had cleared and the unconscious man lying face down on the floor.
     
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  6. Sparrow

    Messages:
    33
    @Dieter Kohler's response gave Shepherd pause and the grip he had on the trolley tightened. This was a man that he had served with in the past. The both of them had trained together, fought together. If he couldn't trust Dieter, just who the hell could he trust? His right hand raised up to pass through his buzzed blonde hair and he sighed. Outright telling his old comrade the truth was out of the question, at least, as long as they were in the open it was.

    Guilt gnawed at his gut, but he reached down to steady the crate when Dieter leaned a hip against it -- worried that he had unsettled the occupant hidden away inside.

    A tall belter sauntered up to them and made mention of a ship. This drew Shepherd's attention and he raised a brow slightly. He glanced between the two men, gesturing with his left hand. "Wait, you're running with a belter crew now, Kohl?" The revelation was a somewhat surprising one, but Shepherd was hardly in the place to pass any judgment on the man.

    If that hadn't been startling enough, the appearance of the second earther with what sounded to be an irish accent caught Shepherd entirely off guard. He had thought the man looked familiar when he picked the fight with Grissom, but now it was plain as day just who he was: one of the men that had been on the security detail of the battered woman he had stuffed away inside the crate. How the man was still alive and walking, he had no idea, but the last thing he wanted was for the guard to get a look inside the crate and then decide that he needed to put a bullet in the-man-pushing-said-crate's skull.

    "Settle down there, Lucky Charms." Shepherd retorted with more muster than he actually felt. His attention drifted back to Dieter and he forced a casual smile. "We can all have a nice sit down and chat. But not out here." He said, nodding over towards the crumpled form on Grissom. "This is hardly the place. Either we can go to my hole nearby, or maybe your ship. No way in hell am I opening this in public."
     
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  7. Antumbralite

    Antumbralite Keith Caileanach

    Messages:
    143
    Character Biography:
    Bio
    "Your hole," Keith spoke for the group through narrowed eyes to the man Dieter called Shepherd, motioning at the crate. "I can't wait to see what sort of surprise you have in there." His distaste for the situation was not a mystery to anyone; after a botched meeting with the contact and picking up a second stranger, Keith was getting irrate. Not to mention his sneaking suspicion that the missing person was inside of the crate.

    Looking at Dieter for any objections, he gave the hand signal for 'go ahead' and scanned the dispersing crowd for any signs of Pallas Station's security force. Without knowing where Shepherd's place was, or how long it would take to get there, left Keith with an uncomfortable amount of unknown variables to consider.

    As the group walked, he started to mentally arrange a contingency plan. Perhaps he could spoof the camera feed to the concourse, or disrupt the security force's comms. They would also need to check for bugs -- in a place that crowded, anyone could have been an undercover cop, keeping tabs on suspicious characters.

    Keith desperately hoped The Albatross would be ready to disembark sooner, rather than later.
     
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  8. Diarmuid O'Sullivan

    Diarmuid O'Sullivan UN Renegade

    Messages:
    56
    Stalemate. Not quite a Mexican standoff but it'd be heading that direction if they tried to get him to open it here. All were old enough hands at the game to know that there was no point staying here. They'd just be four standing targets for Pallas station security. The lanky Belter must have read his mind or else he shared Diarmuid's view on it. "Dherra, fuck it. Why not?".

    It made for an uncomfortable walk for all four of them. Diarmuid was trying to watch for Pallas security, his new companions, and any hidden ambushers. At least the four grim faced men ensured no local ganger chanced their luck.

    He felt like he was going further down the rabbit hole. The Belter had saved him but he knew the other Earther who knew the man with the crate who was suspicious of all of them but he'd been held up by the man Diarmuid had headbutted- he cut off the train of thought before his headache got any worse.

    Knowing his luck there'd probably be gunmen waiting for them in Shepherd's hidey-hole. As his first partner had loved to say, things can always get worse.
     
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  9. Sparrow

    Messages:
    33
    A twisted knot churned anxiously in Shepherd's stomach when the others insisted on inspecting the contents of the crate. It was more than a slight inconvenience to say the least. What were the odds of him talking himself out of this situation? Probably not good. As to what the men's reactions would be when they realized that he had a rather badly beaten and remarkably pretty girl locked inside the crate, he didn't have a clue. Probably not good, either. He reasoned irritably to himself.

    Shepherd gave a nervous laugh and a quick smile, that didn't quite reach his eyes as he gestured with a nod of his head for the group to follow him. Fortunately, they weren't too far from his hole. Although he took one of the longer routes through the crowded tunnels to his compound. The building was utterly unremarkable, not a completely run down slum, but far from what one would call 'nice'. Dingy grey walls lined with simple white doors expanded before them as the group stepped inside. Moving quickly, the earther ushered the group into th elevator then smacked the button for the 14th floor with the side of a loosely curled fist.

    He didn't utter a word until they had reached a door that was about halfway down the long corridor. As he keyed the entrance open, he muttered to the men gathered around him. "Okay, everyone inside and on the far wall. Weapons on the desk and no sudden movements."

    With everyone piled into a room that was normally cramped for one person, Shepherd felt downright claustrophobic in his own apartment. He hesitated as the door slid shut behind him, waiting to see just who was going to play ball, if anyone.
     
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  10. Antumbralite

    Antumbralite Keith Caileanach

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    Keith shuffled into Shepherd's residence behind Dieter and their contact, glancing around the small room that instantly reminded him of his former apartment on Tycho Station. He dropped his pistol on the desk and walked past it to the far wall, leaning against it and crossing his arms over his chest. Clearing his throat, Keith started the conversation, not at all in the mood for Shepherd's stalling.

    "Let's get on with it, koyo. We're on borrowed time, and you have some questions to answer, keya?" he said to Shepherd, glancing at the contact, who seemed to have sniffed out a lead convincing enough to start a fight in public. They had not even had time to learn one another's names, but Keith admired the man's guts. He was beginning to get an idea why Wren worked with him. Keith spoke to him in a low voice. "Let 'em have it, kopeng."

    @Diarmuid O'Sullivan
     
    #70 Antumbralite, Apr 17, 2018
    Last edited: Apr 18, 2018
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  11. Diarmuid O'Sullivan

    Diarmuid O'Sullivan UN Renegade

    Messages:
    56
    None of the four were small and they made the small flat seem like a cell. Diarmuid was a bit more hesitant about taking out his sidearm but he eventually complied. There was such little space inside that trying to use a gun would be a nightmare. Might as well do it to try and build some trust. Thankfully the Belter got right to it, cutting straight to the point. He spoke English with an odd accent, sing songey and peppered with creole words.

    "He's right. Let's see the crate opened. Why was that other fucker so mad to get into it? Let's see what you've squirrelled away then lad". His hands were by his sides but Diarmuid was perfectly happy to batter any code for the lock out of him.
     
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  12. Roland Shepherd

    Messages:
    5
    Shepherd was surprised that both men had so easily agreed to set their weapons down on the table. He had expected more of an argument on the matter, but to be fair; it was purely a gesture of somewhat good faith. If either man decided that he wished to put the weapon to use, it was hardly out of reach.

    Anxiously, he drummed his fingers against the sides of the crate and clicked his tongue behind closed lips. He was weighing his options, not that he had many to choose from at the moment.

    "Right, right. Now... before I pop the lid on this particular can of worms, I don't want anyone to make any sudden movements." He glanced to Dieter, as if trying to gauge whether or not the man would have his back.

    Carefully, he moved around to the front of the crate, which just so happened to put him in between the group of men huddled in the back of his hole, and the trolley. He took a deep breath and flipped the latches on the side of the heavy container open, cautiously opening the lid and sliding it back. This was the biggest risk. Whether or not he would walk away from this would likely entirely depend on how the woman reacted to him.

    He had saved her from Grissom and gotten her out of the warehouse, but he was also one of the people responsible for her being there in the first place. Would it be enough? Without even realizing it, he was holding his breath. From here, for this one brief moment, he was the only one that could see her. As gently as he could, he set the lid down so as to not startle the woman.

    There were vivid, dark bruises along the right side of her jaw line and there was swelling. One of her eyes was a startling shade of purple, that almost matched the color of her hair, but it as tinged with red. More bruises were wrapped around her throat from Grissom nearly strangling her. She was gripping at one of her thighs and he could see the small trickles of blood slipping between her fingers. It wasn't gushing or spurting, a good sign -- likely just a graze.

    She was staring up at him with wide blue eyes, curled up on her side to make herself as small as possible.

    Please don't freak out. Please don't freak out. He internally pleaded with literally everyone in the room, as he offered a reassuring smile to the girl in the crate.
     
  13. Sparrow

    Messages:
    33
    Pale light flooded the dark cocoon of the container as the lid was lifted away, blinding her for a few precious seconds. Instinctively, she curled up and pressed her back against the side of the crate until her eyes had adjusted to the sudden change. Freshish air filled her lungs as she took a deep breath. The scent that the inhabitant of the hole she found herself in had selected to perfume his air processors was a warm and comforting one. Tobacco with a hint of leather.

    Her eyes fluttered open and she was staring up at Smoker's face. The corner of his mouth was split and there was dried blood on his bottom lip, the beginning of bruises starting to take shape on his cheek and around his left eye. She could see the blood from the gunshot wound on his arm that had stained the jacket he was wearing.

    She should have been terrified of him. He was one of her captors and he had just taken her to an unknown location. However... he'd intervened with Fist's attacks on her and risked himself to get her away from the man. The expression he wore on his face made it clear that he was concerned for her and the injuries she had sustained.

    Smoker glanced behind his shoulder once, nervously. Was there someone behind him? Was it Grissom? Had he caught back up with them? When he looked back to her, she could see that his mouth was formed in such a way as to make a "shh". Something that seemed to be instinctual in those who could hear what she could only assume was a comforting sound. He moved slowly, not wanting to startle her from the look of it as he reached towards her with both hands.

    Gently, he gathered her into his arms with one supporting her back while the other curled beneath her legs. To help shift some of the weight from his injury, Sparrow wrapped her own free arm around the back of his neck. His chest vibrated with a pained grunt as he stood and she could feel the rumble of his voice as he muttered under his breath.

    Slowly, the room started to shift as Smoker rotated in place so that they were both facing the back of his hole.

    Three men stood before her. One was clearly a belter from his build, the other was a gruff looking inner... and the other was Diarmuid.

    A startled gasp escaped the battered woman and her free hand moved from her leg to clasp over her mouth, some of the blood from her fingertips smearing across her lips and cheek. Tears filled her eyes, blurring the familiar man from view.
     
  14. Antumbralite

    Antumbralite Keith Caileanach

    Messages:
    143
    Character Biography:
    Bio
    Keith did not experience a wide range of emotions, especially once he developed a dependency on Sub-Zero. It was not to say he had no feelings, but the shifts in moods were subtle. What level of irritation with the group's current predicament he felt mattered very little as soon as he saw the battered woman in Shepherd's arms. His cheeks flushed, his stomach sank, and he simultaneously felt the warmth of compassion and the fire of rage. The strength of it was staggering.

    "Sabaka," Keith hissed sharply. This was, beyond doubt, Wren's missing person. She matched the coded description perfectly, minus her injuries. Whoever was responsible was in for much, much worse, but that thought left his mind as Keith found himself stepping forward towards the pair.

    Flashbacks from The Albatross' excursion to Ceres Station flooded his mind. Violet's critical gunshot wound that he haphazardly dressed after moving her limp body from the scene of a bloodbath played in front of his eyes, the vision of his crew mate's face melding back to the bruised Belter's. Everything about the woman, from her eyes to what body language she could manage around her injuries, radiated fear and innocence. Keith felt a lump in his throat that he tried to swallow.

    He turned to look over his shoulder at the two Earthers behind him. "I'll take her from here, if you two would like to question our new kopeng." Dieter obviously knew Shepherd from somewhere, and their contact did not strike him as the type with any mastery over first aid. That's what Keith told himself as he reached out to take the girl from Shepherd, anyways. Perhaps it was the Belter connection, or that he was the one that took the job from Wren. The truth was, he had no idea why he felt so compelled to tend to this complete stranger.

    He took a few short strides to Shepherd's bed, easing the woman onto the scattered sheets. "No fear now, sesata. You're safe. Keting nem to?"
     
  15. Dieter Kohler

    Messages:
    180
    Character Biography:
    Bio
    When asked about his choice of crewmates, Dieter opened his mouth, then closed it again, shrugging and smiling a little uncomfortably. He’d probably shared his opinions about the Belt and its residents at length back in the service. Thankfully, he didn’t have time to invent an explanation before the others arrived. Seemingly trapped in the awkward loyalty gap between a new associate and an old one, Dieter wasn’t sure which side to take. So he didn’t, for the moment.

    He put his weapon down alongside the others, at least somewhat confident that even if this was a trap, Shepherd might have the decency to only kill the others and leave Dieter an out, for old time's sake. If it were the other way around, Dieter might have done the same for him. Maybe.

    Likewise, Dieter felt a natural, if not entirely logical inclination to trust the man. A lot had changed since they’d served together and they’d never been ‘friends’ per se, nevertheless, they had been through enough together for Dieter to register him as an ally. Sure, if Shep looked at him sideways, he wouldn’t hesitate to beat him back to that table and put two extra holes in his forehead, but that went for pretty much anybody in Dieter’s life. For the moment, however, there was no reason not to trust him. Clearly, he was into some shady shit - but it wasn’t like anybody in the apartment had room to talk. Keith’s new pal was a mystery, but presumably at least OPA-affiliated.

    As far as Dieter was concerned, there wasn’t anything in the crate that could change his mind. Guns? Couldn’t blame a man for having too many guns? Drugs? So long as he shared, no problem there. Animal costumes? Dieter didn’t judge what people were into. At least, he’d thought he didn’t. As soon as Shepherd lifted the lid, Dieter’s eyes locked hard onto his old comrade.

    What. The. Fuck.

    Dieter pointed at the girl without looking at her, his gaze fixed on his fellow veteran. “Okay. That. Is not what I was expecting. I think you’d better start talking, because I’m not sure I feel like stopping this rando meathead from turning you into Shep Pudding.”

    He grinned at the unfamiliar Earther. “I'm just assuming that’s what happens next.”
     
  16. Diarmuid O'Sullivan

    Diarmuid O'Sullivan UN Renegade

    Messages:
    56
    Diarmuid felt his fists curl at the warning not to make a sudden move. He was ready for anything he thought, biting his tongue to avoid risking any untoward words. He nodded his head in a reluctant affirmative.

    He wasn't ready. His jaw dropped at the sight of a bloody and beaten Sparrow. "Jesus fucking Christ" he murmured, staring at her in horror. The only thing saving him from Diarmuid smashing his head against a wall was the fact that the girl was in his arms. The Belter with them was just as disgusted, he moved forward to take the girl with surprising compassion. Diarmuid forced down the red rage, forcing himself to keep calm. The other Earther seemed to feel it too.

    It put him a notch or two lower on the threat scale. Whatever past history they had, the man was pressing for Shepherd to explain fast before things got worse. Diarmuid flashed his teeth in response, baring them more than smiling. "I'll cut yer gizzard out unless you have an answer fast. After that I'll start on yer kneecaps".
     
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  17. Roland Shepherd

    Messages:
    5
    Shepherd was gentle with the battered girl as he handed her over to the Belter. He reckoned if any of them were going to kill him, that he deserved with he got after what he had done. His eyes lingered on the girl and the Belter for a moment, noticing that the man was talking to her, but she wasn't responding.

    He held up his hands slightly, one of them now partially covered in blood from Sparrow's injured leg, and cleared his throat before he spoke to Keith. "I think she's deaf, kid. She doesn't speak." He offered flatly.

    His attention briefly focused on Dieter when he finally spoke up, but quickly shifted his gaze over to the Earther he didn't know when the man threatened him. That's fair, Shepherd thought idly to himself. "I was trying to get her away from the big guy that stopped me in the market." He jerked his head towards the beaten woman. "He was the guy that did that to her."

    The entire time he was trying to explain, he kept his hands up and made sure to keep still. Having Kohler here was a stroke of luck, but he wasn't quite sure whether it was good or bad. Perhaps a bit of both. Just how much information should he give upfront? Too little and they'd likely lash out, too much and they'd either kill him or think he was lying.

    "I'm UNMC." He settled on being upfront, without telling all the bloody details. "Things went sideways, grabbed the girl and was trying to make a run to get off this damn rock. Which... as you can plainly see, did not go exactly according to plan."
     
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  18. Sparrow

    Messages:
    33
    A maelstrom of emotion whirled through the young belter woman now that she was out of the cramped crate. It was a lot to take in at once, and her rattled brain couldn't decide which piece of information was the most important and needed to be processed first. She found it difficult to even breathe, and her eyes refused to focus on anything in particular. The room itself felt as if it had started to spin and tilt in a sickening motion.

    What she could recognize was that Diarmuid was alive. How he had survived she didn't have the slightest idea. When it came to how he had found her and came to be standing in the small single dweller hole that belonged to the man who was both her kidnapper and rescuer, she had even less of one.

    She was semi-aware that she was handed off to the only other belter in the tiny room. Was Smoker trading her off to slavers? The group that arranged the kidnapping? To people that would take her home? She had no way of knowing, and the thought terrified her.

    The belter carried her to the bed and gingerly set her down on the bed. It smelled like Smoker. When she looked down she realized that her hands were trembling and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't get them to stop. Her breathing was becoming more shallow and she felt dizzy. She recognized them as symptoms of shock, but there wasn't anything she could physically do about it.

    Staring down at her shaking, blood-covered hands, she didn't realize that the Belter was talking to her at first. Absently, she raised her blue eyes up to meet his gaze, but they were unfocused and distant. Any attempt to pay closer attention was a futile one. She found it impossible to read even one word from his lips, whereas she normally could have picked out a few words.

    Weakly, she shook her head back and forth a few times and withdrew towards the wall, trying to curl up to make herself smaller. Trying to make a run for it in her condition was out of the question. The men would easily be able to chase her down. All she could do was hope that she wasn't wrong about Smoker, and that he was genuinely trying to help her.
     
  19. Antumbralite

    Antumbralite Keith Caileanach

    Messages:
    143
    Character Biography:
    Bio
    "I think she's deaf, kid. She doesn't speak."

    Keith glanced over his shoulder at Shepherd, raising an eyebrow. "I see. Taki." Bringing his eyes back to the Belter, he found her curled up, pressed against the wall. He tried once again to swallow the lump in his throat. This poor woman was terrified. He held his hands up, signing to her in the hand signals that was as second-nature to Belters as breathing recycled air. It had been a while since Keith had to use any signing; his travels with the Inners over the past few months left him little reason to, outside of the usual gestures Belters made with their conversation.

    He repeated what he said to the woman verbally. No fear now, sister. You're safe. What's your name? Keith smiled at her, laying a hand on his chest. I'm Keith, a friend of Wren. She's been looking for you.

    He spoke out loud to Shepherd, while keeping his gaze settled on the woman. "Do you have any towels? Rags?"
     
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  20. Diarmuid O'Sullivan

    Diarmuid O'Sullivan UN Renegade

    Messages:
    56
    "She's deaf"

    Diarmuid's voice was flat as he confirmed the explanation. "She can sign though and lip read a bit. Try that". His eyes flickered to Sparrow only back to his main focus just in case Shepherd went for a weapon. His teeth grated at the story but he did allow him the courtesy of explaining it. UNMC, well that made sense. They were guaranteed to provide a ready made fuck up for you whereever they want. Diarmuid wasn't military but he did know they had some rudiments of protocol to follow. "Where's your unit then? Why are you in civvies?"

    His gaze flickered to Sparrow again. "So you bundled her into a crate, forgive me if your story seems to be missing a few details". The sarcasm was acid. He listened to the tall Belter's question and grabbed the nearest one to hand, "There's one" with a quick smile for Sparrow to try and reassure her.

    "And get off this rock to where exactly? Going to explain to customs why you'd a bleeding and battered deaf Belter girl with you?"
     
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