thunderproof | ＯＰＥＮＰＯＳＴ．

Good or bad, it’s all playacting.
If you act well, you can fool other people;
if you do it badly, you can only fool yourself,
and when you can’t even fool yourself,
you can only fool the ghosts.

( trading one evil, power-hungry master for another was not what sarra had had in mind when she signed her contract. destroying worlds, killing people, committing genocide against entire species... she can see the benefit in clearing out detritus, that the old must make way for the new, but this... this isn't how it should be accomplished. killing millions and destroying whole worlds because someone has decided that they're just so much cosmic garbage is beyond even her, no matter how willing she is to make deals with the devil to keep those she loves safe.

it's unsurprising, then, that she's ended up here. a wide swath of the crew has been deemed unsatisfactory, and there are consequences, in the cdc, for doing unsatisfactory work. some people have talked about the last time this punishment was enacted, but it was before sarra's time, on the training planet, and then only used against a small section of red team.

she's not afraid to die, at least. if it has to happen now, at least she didn't let herself bend to the whims of yet another cosmically evil entity beyond her ken.

there's no way of telling what will happen while she's suffering, though. sarra's never endured prolonged pain, and has no idea if she can keep herself under control while she does. with that in mind, she's wandered far from camp, looking for an area without vegetation, where sparks won't cause a fire. no sooner than she's found it, though, someone's come to intrude on her solitude, and sarra frowns, waving the stranger off. )

Hey, you don't want to be here. Find somewhere else, this spot's taken.

( sarra doesn't know a lot about marriage or nobility or any of that sort of thing. she grew up in a library and then spent months wandering a small section of the coast in search of one thing or another, killing and rescuing and fetching for whoever was willing to give her a pretty penny, and it all left no time for anything like she's encountering here on the outskirts of lamorre.

sarra does know a lot about men who don't deserve the women at their side, however, and that petrana is attached to a human and not an evil dragon from before the beginning of time makes no nevermind to her. that a child is involved only makes it so much worse. veda is small and beautiful and too precious to grow up in what amounts to a glorified war camp, and sarra has never considered herself much of a warrior but she knows she is better suited to this life than petrana is, and that's saying a lot.

one of the things sarra never really has learned, in the years since she set off from candlekeep, is how to make a decision with the input of the people she's making that decision for.

charis is still small, but small for a black dragon is still as big as a fully grown horse. he is, as all chromatic dragons are, arrogant and violent, but he is always willing to listen if it means a meal, so he sweeps into the camp with a delighted shriek just as sarra asked. they have a plan: he pretends to attack her, she pretends to be helpless, marius sweeps in as her savior, and the two of them make him sorry he ever even looked at petrana with anger in his eyes.

the plan goes swimmingly. sarra isn't much of an actress, but marius is too excited about proving himself against a dragon to care. he doesn't expect the lash of lightning to wrap around his neck from behind as he bears down on the beast, dragging him to his knees and burning his skin. )

I wanted you to know, ( sarra says, fist wreathed in sparks as she stands over him, ) what happens to men who don't appreciate the women who stand at their side.

( and then she steps away, and charis steps forward, and sarra doesn't even look back as she walks toward petrana, reaching for her and veda. )

You won't want to look, Petra, it's not pretty when he does this.

( veda's eyes she covers with her hand, the other cupping petrana's cheek as she mutters to herself. the rest of the camp won't let them leave without a fight, and while sarra and charis can handle themselves, invisibility will suit petrana and veda well on their way out. )

( More often than not, the problem with Marius is - was, Petrana thinks, mutely horrified and unable to immediately look away - that his arrogance is not unwarranted. Magic as music and Marius is a symphony, a prodigal talent; he is not helpless, he is hard to take off-guard. To see it done is terrifying, a show of power unmatched that she cannot but be afraid of - to watch him die is awful.

When Sarra reaches for them, Petrana flinches, stiffening under her hand and cradling Veda closer to herself as if to protect her -

One day, she may be grateful.

Today, in a voice ragged with the pain of loss, she screams for the guardsmen that would have been so much closer by her had she not been at her husband's side, and Sarra and Charis will need to move very quickly to get them all safely from this encampment. )

a restless reststop.
( quicknotes on peter for u )
he's currently running with cdc under the alias of sigourney velvet,
a venusian movie star in a lot of spy/action thrillers. he does all his
own stunts, which is clearly why he's very good with knives... /sweats.

whether sarra is privy to his real name is up to you! roll it how you like.

Edited 2017-05-10 14:18 (UTC)

( ajna was... not the best time of sarra's life. and considering the high bar set by how she'd spent the last couple months before signing her contract, that's really saying a lot. being the black dragon's errand girl was tame, though, compared to red team — at first it seemed fine, just gathering information for creepy creepy dagger, but throughout the mission things just got worse and worse until she ended up having to help kill all of the shai, and... well. it's culminated in a barely passing grade and instructions to show up for black box training later in the week, but she's still on red team. some people on the other teams didn't get so lucky, and she plans to check in on a few of them, but until then, it's time to relax on selena-vii.

or at least, it would be, if someone would stop standing in her light. sarra frowns, staying where she is on her reclining beach chair, hoping the disturbance will move... but it doesn't. eventually she opens her eyes and her mouth to tell off whoever's in the way — and then blinks in confusion. )

Sigourney? Are you — did you need something? You're... kind of in the way of my sun...

( sigourney's a red team member from the first jump, just like her, but they've never spent a ton of time together. enough to be familiar, sure, but not enough so that sarra has any idea what he wants from her right now. )

[ selena-vii reminds peter of those beautiful venusian resorts that he's had more than his fair share of stopping at. beautiful sim-beaches as far and wide as the eye can see, excited and theatrically oozing from every pore the city has.

it's perfect.

peter tries not to make attachments he can't keep, he tries not to get... attached. as it stands now, he's the furthest from anyone he can possibly be, behind the glass of someone else. he's so far encased in it, sometimes when he looks in the mirror, peter nureyev seldom crosses his mind (sometimes when he looks in the mirror, he grabs the edges until it hurts and says his name over and over again, a swear to never forget, to never never forget.)

the girl has potential, which is why peter decides he'll scoop her up before anyone else has the chance to. she's got something about her that he's latched onto, a driven kind of fury that's buried deep, surging up with little hungry tendrils and snapping when given only the slightest berth.

why he finds himself caring enough to approach her during the rest stop when they've only interacted a handful of times is still nipping at the back of his mind, but.

you never know if you don't try. mag certainly believed the same in him. you see untapped potential, you grab it, and you start to spin.

pulling down a pair of sunglasses he'd snatched from a rather ditzy-looking passerby's pockets, a pretentious cut, sharp at the edges like a cat's eye and an outstanding shade of indigo and blue, he smiles with all of his extraordinarily sharp teeth. ]

There'll be plenty of time for sun, my dear, [ he drawls in sigourney's clever little accent, something beautiful he'd pick up off an ionian boat. it's sweet and sibilant, exotic, but not too annoying. ] I've a proposal for you and time is of the essence.

Edited 2017-05-10 16:58 (UTC)

Will there, ( she mutters, disbelieving — this nice little selenian pit stop can't last forever, and who knows what planet they'll go to next. there being "plenty" of time for sun seems like an assumption that will only end in her not having enjoyed good (albeit fake, though sarra still doesn't know quite how that works...) weather while she had the chance.

still, she listens to sigourney attentively, eyebrow raised in curiosity. )

No offense meant, Sigourney, but you seem like the kind of person whose proposals I should turn down every time.

( there's nothing she can put her finger on, exactly, but just... a feeling. the sense that beneath sigourney's smarm and charm and sharp little teeth are dangerous whirlpools. with krakens at the bottom. and a reef that will wreck anything that gets dashed upon it.

he's dangerous, essentially.

but so is sarra, and she was made to weather storms. )

What is it, then?

And that is why I'm offering it to you. Quick as a whip.

[ was someone sitting in this chair next to you? no? cool. peter moves forward just a bit, taking a seat, all the while his eyes benignly shift between sarra and her companion lounging at her side. he's never seen her without the dragon really, even during missions. he's careful not to move too quickly while taking a seat, merely leaning back and crossing one knee over the other. ]

A little bird by the name of Dagger told me that you're in a bit of a bind and could use some...

[ he waves a hand vaguely before resting his elbow on the arm of the chair and using his knuckles to prop his chin up rather thoughtfully. this is not a lie, as much as peter would have liked it to be. dagger isn't frightening per se, but he is stranger than anything peter has come across before. but extra credit is extra credit and peter figures he can share. ]

Supplementary. Missions. Nothing too difficult mind you, but a little practice never hurt anyone and our team leader has a few errands he needs run before we leave planetside.

Edited 2017-05-17 11:15 (UTC)

( oh. well. she can't help perking up at the compliment,sitting up slightly higher. it's an obvious tactic, but one she's perfectly fine buying into, at least for now.

charis, on the other hand, is highly suspicious, watching sigourney with narrowed eyes. despite being a personable silver dragon, charis is unhappy about the circumstances he and sarra find themselves in, and it's made him wary and protective. for those he knows and approves of, he is an adorable, friendly, slightly overgrown lizard. for strangers, he is an intimidating beast. as sigourney sits, he moves closer to sarra, climbing almost entirely into her lap. sarra hardly even reacts, simply shifts herself so that he has more space and rests her hand on his head, scritching her thumb behind his small horns. charis isn't really a lapdragon anymore, but he always wants to be, and it's hard to say no to a dragon, so sarra's given up trying. )

I wasn't aware Dagger was so interested in me and my bind, ( she says finally, thoughtful. dagger is... hard to get a read on. she's not always sure if he really wants her on his team or if he wants charis and simply sees her as the price he has to pay to have him. regardless of who it is he wants, though, dagger has apparently seen fit to send her "help" and, well. she doesn't really want to see what happens to people who refuse gifts from dagger. )

What kinds of errands?

Squandered potential perhaps.

[ peter eyes the little flash of movement in sarra's lap, keeping his hands in his own, exactly where they can be seen. from what he's observed, charis has quite the mind of his own and he would rather remain as much on the "ambiguously neutral" side of his temperament as he can. tolerated, at best. he looks her in the eyes and offers her a non-committal shrug at that. ]

Reclaiming some documents. [ he says it with a smile, knowing it's not completely an answer. ] And along with that, a lesson in distracting the target here and a little lecture in liesmithery there and we should get through it all with flying colors. Completely harmless stuff, I assure you, but all necessary.

( squandered potential. yes, she can see why dagger would accuse her of that. there is much more she is capable of than she has brought to bear here, that dagger has noticed as much is unsurprising. that's probably the only reason she's still here, really. if she didn't have more she was capable of, he'd probably have given up on her, dragon or no. )

So I wouldn't have to hurt anyone? We're not being sent off to be assassins?

( sarra's relationship with violence is a strange one that not even she always understands — she saves the lives of goblins and dragon eggs, and then turns around and kills human cultists and hobgoblins without thinking. it's not something she really knows how to justify, but she follows her heart as much as she can. if it feels wrong, she doesn't do it, if it doesn't trip her morality meter, well, it's probably fine, right? being an assassin for dagger is probably one of those things that would trip the morality meter, but reclaiming documents she can do.

the others... )

Distraction and liesmithery? Does Dagger want me to be a spy? I'm not sure I know anyone less suited, honestly. Have I mentioned how terrible I am at keeping secrets?

( there is space and introducing her to tunes or someth, do with this what u will :') )

( pretend she's a tiefling with black eyes, horns and a tail kinda like all of this ; can be cdc au )

( running away from the party was probably a rash action, sarra will admit. in her defense, though, she hadn't known silver dragons could hatch out of black eggs, and now that she does know, it's too late to turn back. even if she found the group again, they'd think she's even shadier than they already thought. she wouldn't be safe, and neither would charis, and sarra could accept whatever they wanted to do to her, but charis is just a baby. he doesn't deserve to get hurt when he doesn't even know what's going on around him.

he's hardly any more safe being walked through neverwinter, honestly, but sarra doesn't really know where else to go. she's a harper, technically, kind of maybe, and surely there must be a gathering place for them somewhere in the city. the harpers could help her. at the very least someone could get her back to candlekeep. she's aware that she's grasping at straws, but it's all she can do. for the night, it's more than she can do, actually — it's late, it's raining, and she needs to find an inn to buy a room in. figuring out what to do and where to go will have to wait for tomorrow.

with charis clutched tightly to her chest and covered by her cloak, sarra makes her way through dark, muddy streets to the first inn she can find. she can tell just upon stepping inside that it's not a very reputable place — there's a tiefling in the corner, and while that would usually intrigue sarra somewhat, she can't afford to be distracted tonight — but beggars can't be choosers. all sarra wants is a room with a door that locks and a meal for herself and charis, and she can think about things like how a tiefling made its way here later.

charis is restless, though, squirming in her arms through the transaction, and no amount of gentle shushing from sarra can quiet him. before she can get him under control, the wyrmling pokes his head out of the cloak, looking around them in fascination. luckily sarra covers him up quickly enough and the innkeeper is bent down getting their room key, and when she looks up the tiefling doesn't appear to be looking their way. still, she's shaken, barely able to manage a smile as she takes her key and makes her way agonizingly slowly to the room.

it's hours later, in the middle of the night, when sarra hears a gentle scritching at her door. charis looks up blearily from where he's made his nest, but sarra was waiting for this. her fingers spark as she approaches the door, an audible crackling noise filling the air. )

I can hear you trying to get in, you know, ( she says quietly. )

I appear to have gotten into a bit of a bind, my dear.

I don't normally make this a habit, but! First time for everything, right?

...I'm quite tempted to pretend I don't know who this is just to make you squirm a bit, to be honest.

What do you need, Sigoureyrove?

( sarra ascribes to the yosaffbridge method of dealing with someone with a number of aliases, clearly. )

Edited 2017-05-18 13:11 (UTC)

Well do enjoy yourself. I've certainly done enough squirming in my life, what's a bit more, I suppose.

You know, that's not as awful sounding as it looked.

Oh, fine, take all the fun out of it. It's not as enjoyable when you don't mind squirming, you know.

...this has gotten distressingly dirty.

I thought you were in a bind?

Only to you! I've said nothing to warrant those sorts of thoughts on your part.

And I was wondering, darling sister, how possible causing a minor power outage would be?

Really, you don't see how "I've done enough squirming in my life" could possibly be suggestive. Really.

Perfectly possible, if you've explained modern electricity to me right. If I sparked it it would cause an overload of power and... what was that term you used? "Short" some circuits? Something?

If I have that right it's as easy as rubbing my fingers together.

I see your point. Though I'd like to have it be put on record that I consider myself less of a "squirmer" in that department. "Writhing" sounds more poetic.

[ you brought this upon yourself when you adopted him. ]

That aside, that's precisely what I need you to do. Someone's gone and tripped the alarms and thrown the facility into lockdown. Very bad for me. I'd planned for something similar to this, but it seems they've increased their security and the last guard I saw had sizeable biceps.

[ the kind that don't just snap toothpicks like peter in two. they turn them into splinters. tiny splinters. teeny bitty ones. ]

This place is lit up like Christmas on Venus--I need a blackout.

"Writhing" sounds like something a worm does before it dies.

( enjoy that mental image the next time you read any erotica, peter, and don't try to pretend you don't read erotica. your sister knows you too well. )

That does sound bad. Any specific place I should do this? Also, if I can get within touching distance of you I can spell you invisible. You couldn't do anything but sneak, but you're good at sneaking.

You always say things like that like I'll understand them.

No, that's definitely "squirming."

[ as if he wouldn't admit to this. ]

Being within touching distance of me isn't likely, I'm afraid. I'm in the belly of the beast, so to speak. A janitor's closet. An offensively small janitor's closet. So small, in fact, that I've become rather intimate friends with a mop that's seen better days.

It just means I'll have to show you one day!

Agree to disagree, brother.

( ah, right, your lack of shame. attractive. )

Tell that mop you're not that kind of girl! It needs to take you out on a second date, at least.

I look forward to it. First I have to save your butt, though. Where can I go to do my sparky thing?

[ his lack of shame has earned him a very lovely lady's affections okay??? ]

It's very insistent. I'm not too fond of its perfume either: eau du filthy washroom. The hairstyle is rather unique, however. Points for that much at least.

[ alright nureyev, let's get serious. ]

You should have a map of the area on your blackglass. You'll want to go to the western half of the complex. I'll send you an updated file with the box highlighted as well as a rendezvous point. You'll go there, work your magic, and I should be able to regroup with you in no more than seven minutes and... oh let's say forty-three seconds after that.

Sound like a plan?

[ he's nothing if not precise okay. ]

Edited 2017-05-19 02:05 (UTC)

( assuming you mean her: ...awwww. if you mean juno, gross. stop talking about your lover to your sister!!! )

Eau du? I speak six languages and i don't think I know what that means.

( you and your stupid earth languages. speak celestial like a normal nerd, peter. )

Western half of the complex, electrocute a box and its contents, wait for you at the rendezvous point. Got it.

If you don't come out, want me to bust my way in and help? I'm not much, but I have Charis. Together we could probably see about staging a daring rescue, if we have to.

You'll have to pick up a couple more, then.

[ He'll speak whatever he wants!! Earth English! Brahmese! Venusian! He's got a lot! ]

My very own knights in shining armor, a very hard deal to pass up, but if I don't come out in time, I want you to leave.

These aren't people we want to fight head on right now.

Edited 2017-05-19 09:46 (UTC)

I'm not sure I have the space available in my brain for it, to be honest. I'll have to see if I can clear out some room between "candlekeep's cataloging system" and "how to manipulate the Weave".

Leave? As in leave you entirely behind with no hope of rescue and no idea if you'll come out?

Absolutely not.

If I have room for the Callistan Waltz or Martian Foxtrot, you have it in you to squeeze in a few more languages.

And yes, that is precisely what I mean. I want you to leave. Depart. Vamoose. Skedaddle. Scoot.

Only if I don't make it out within that time. I assure you that I'm 99.99999999999998% certain I will succeed.

Edited (brpadrp annoying spelling error) 2017-05-22 12:18 (UTC)

Stop making up words, Peter.

It's that 0.0000000000002% I'm worried about. You have a very high opinion of your abilities, brother, and no desire to think about the possibility of failure.

I will not be scooting.

No time to linger on the prospect of failure, darling.

I gave you other options to choose from! Skedaddling! Departing! Vamoosing! You have choices, isn't that grand?

If you think I'll just abandon you to your fate when there's even the slightest possibility I could help I don't think you know me very well.

I'm at the western side of the complex and I see the box.

It doesn't stop me from hoping that one day you'll heed my advice.

Good good, open it up and give the entire thing a good jolt. No need to be delicate about it. That should be enough to take out the complex at least until the back up generator tries to boot itself up.

In that time, I should be on my way to you.

If I never listened to Nolan and Xavier I probably won't be listening to you.

As soon as I send this, I'll zap the box and go to the rendezvous point. If you are not there in exactly seven minutes and forty three seconds, Charis and I will be coming after you.

Good luck, Peter.

( and with a rather powerful spark, their seven minutes and forty three seconds have begun. )

Why is it that I fill my life with such a stubborn lot?

[ he doesn't respond to the last bit. luck is something he tries to avoid relying on, even if in the end, sometimes he just happens to be incredibly lucky. whether or not this entity of "luck" finds him fitting to cling to, well, that's completely up to it.

it takes some doing and peter is certainly cutting it close by seconds, but his escape route doesn't fail him (one of too many, some woulds say, one of just the right number peter would correct.) seconds to spare, peter is sprinting towards sarra's familiar shape behind the building, all smiles and teeth.

forty-two... forty-three... ]

There she is, [ he laughs. ] My hero, in the flesh.

( for sarra, those seven minutes and forty three seconds are spent nervously pacing along the border of the rendezvous point, charis crouched beside her ready to leap into action at any moment. it's not that she doesn't believe in peter, she knows just how good her brother is at this sneaking thing, she's just... intimately aware of all the ways a good plan can go wrong, and peter's plans are rarely good. daring, exciting, dramatic if pulled off, certainly. exhaustive for sure. but good...

seven minutes pass and sarra is already readying her spells. haste for her and charis, invisibility for peter when she sees him, and then lightning until she can't cast anymore — forty-two, forty-three —

he appears just as she begins the incantation for haste, and sarra drops the spell immediately, running for him instead. )

You! You brat, you had me worried half to death! I have half a mind to have Charis sit on you whenever I have to leave you, you'll get into all sorts of trouble otherwise.

[ peter can smell the little crackle of sarra's magic in the air. even if she isn't stirring up storms, she smells like she's been embraced by one. he lands on the ground beside her and she dashes for him, hair all static and gold. peter enfolds her in his arms, burying one hand in her hair, the other pressing her close to him in a fast embrace.

he can feel his own heart trying to permanently jackhammer itself against her from his running, from the thrill of the chase, having sprinted out like greased lightning as they'd say back in the day.

when he can pull himself a little free, he drops a quick kiss onto the top of her brow, grinning. ]

Trouble? I'd hardly call this trouble. A minor setback, perhaps, but it all turned out just fine, didn't it?

( at least he isn't too proud to submit to the very thorough hug she'd planned for him. she can feel his heartbeat thrumming against her chest, racing like a terrified rabbit, and sarra rubs her hand over his back in comforting circles. )

Your sense of what constitutes as trouble is kind of fucked, Peter, ( she says eventually, leaning her forehead into the kiss and then taking a step back to examine him more thoroughly. )

Any injuries I need to see to?

Hey, Sarra -

you like work and paper and when they're not necessarily in that order, right?

...I'm really not sure how to respond to this question. I mean, I like books, which are similar to but not exactly like paper, and I like specific kinds of work, but you'll have to narrow it down because there are some kinds of work I'm not so much a fan of.

Okay, I guess I did know how to answer, actually.

It's paperwork. It's literally just paperwork.

[ wow juno ]

I need someone to sign some documentation down at the hospital. It's for a case.

...oh.

Well you could have just said. How much paperwork?

[ some people are DEATHLY allergic to the word "paperwork" ok!!! ]

Not too much, considering.
The doctors said I needed a second party to sign, is what's going on. Something something "responsible adult".

( she is a librarian what makes you think she is in any way allergic to paperwork )

Oh.

Oh!!! Am I the responsible adult? Am I a responsible adult now? Holy shit I never thought I'd get there. I'd like to thank my brother, for raising me poorly, and myself, for managing to become some semblance of a human being despite his best efforts.

[ it's been a long day at the end of a very long week. summer meant no school, which was good. it also meant extra shifts at canelo's, which was less good, except on every other friday. gabe would need new clothes for school come fall and there was another book his social worker recommended. only you can't get textbooks like that for less than a few bills for some reason. between the hours here at the auto body and eli demanding most of his night, robbie had almost nodded off under the suspension of a f-250. twice.

around 9:30pm he finally forced himself to take a meal break. gabe was at a friend's for a sleepover, so robbie didn't have to worry about getting home. that didn't mean it was a convenient time for this random blonde woman to show up out of nowhere?? especially when she so clearly did not belong here. comic-con. ren faire. hollywood maybe, but not here.

robbie sighed, wishing for a coffee and setting his turkey sandwich down on the hood of the charger. ]

Look, I didn't say your "quest" or whatever was stupid. I just said I don't have time for it and I'd really prefer if you didn't start anything in my neighborhood.

﻿ＯＰＥＮ ＰＯＳＴ．

no subject

no subject

cdc au cuz why not

hi it's libby, late with starbucks

no subject

no subject

hey nat hey nat guess what it's a cdc au

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

idek

this is sam

no subject

( txt ) encrypted line / burner comm

no subject

no subject

no subject

you're his favorite child

she hates you

hate is such a strong word.

not strong enough

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

TXT ( TFLN WITH A TWIST ).

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

ＯＰＥＮＰＯＳＴ．