- Joined
- Jul 31, 2018
- Messages
- 100
- Awards
- 11
- Essence
- €12,407
- Coin
- ₡2,500
- Tokens
- 5
- World
- Nos'Talgia
- Profile
- Click Here
The harsh glare of green light overwhelmed her vision, blocking out anything else. It was accompanied by something which registered as a screeching whine of static and rushing wind. The most startling prospect was the physical feeling of being tossed around, end over end, like tumbling downhill but not actually impacting anything.
For several seconds, which she suspected would have been unbearably nauseating and sickening for most living beings she was subjected to such treatment. Then it abruptly ended, and she found herself sprawled out spread-eagle on the ground. Or rather...on the floor. A floor composed of smooth, well-kept material, not at all like the cracked and weather stone floor of the bunker facility she had just been in.
"Teleportation..." she muttered, not even bothering to so much as move just yet. "Is it always such a jarring experience?"
"Only when they use the low-end gear." The voice of Smythe spoke up from near at hand, somewhere off to her left. "I'm not important enough to warrant anything really special. You bein' as big as you are probably also threw it off. I sorta, uh...forgot to specify the extra bits when I called in for a 'port for two."
"Your attention to details is second only to your willingness to divulge them." While her tone had always been rather dry, this time it was positively desert-like. And while she couldn't see him, she could almost feel her companion (for the moment) flinch in response. Inevitably, however, she brought her arms about and put palms to floor, pushing herself up and onto her knees so she could get a look around.
It looked like some kind of...well, some kind of loosely scientific facility was her best guess. There was no shortage of equipment and technicians using it to make that much clear, though there was a surprising number of armed and armored personnel present as well. Many of which were eyeing her with something only a few steps down from open hostility, and who handled their weapons with the kind of readiness only someone expecting to need to open fire in the next ten seconds could.
"I am not welcome here," she said after only a few seconds of observation. It wasn't a question, just a note of her acknowledgement of that fact.
"Yeah, uh...like I said, I sorta forgot some specifics when I called in for our trip back here," Smythe mumbled sheepishly. "Just don't...don't make any sudden moves. I'll see what I can do to keep them from blowin' you to bits. Least I can do after you did my job for me, eh?"
"...yes. I suppose it is. May I at least shift to a less precarious sitting posture?"
"Huh? Ah, yeah...whatever. Just stay put, okay?" And he pulled down the hood of his raincoat. Dark hair, on both his head and struggling to grow something resembling a beard. Were it not for the artificially gleaming silver-green eyes and the almost sickly hue to what would have otherwise been fair and lightly-toned skin, he would have been indistinguishable from a human. The oddity of such a...mostly convincing synthetic with such glaring giveaways was puzzling to her, though she made no mention of it.
It had already been established that this was definitely not her home. Perhaps the standards of construction and integration were just that level of different here.
Ashe slowly shifted around, off of her knees and leaning back to sit down and crossed her legs before her, hands resting on her knees. The arms behind her back twitched and flexed, hands lightly curling and uncurling into fists. It seemed as if the chaotic teleport may have had some benefit after all, as basic function seemed to be returning to them. She would consider that a definite plus, even if it had come as a result of being ripped potentially halfway a cross an alien world and into a very nearly hostile encounter.
But she would do as bidden. Self-preservation and logic both dictated that she simply stay put, wait, and observe. Learn what she could from looking around, listening in to what went on, and try to seem non-threatening so she didn't find out what kind of firepower those weapon-toting guards were really packing.
And pray that Smythe actually came through and got this handled.
For several seconds, which she suspected would have been unbearably nauseating and sickening for most living beings she was subjected to such treatment. Then it abruptly ended, and she found herself sprawled out spread-eagle on the ground. Or rather...on the floor. A floor composed of smooth, well-kept material, not at all like the cracked and weather stone floor of the bunker facility she had just been in.
"Teleportation..." she muttered, not even bothering to so much as move just yet. "Is it always such a jarring experience?"
"Only when they use the low-end gear." The voice of Smythe spoke up from near at hand, somewhere off to her left. "I'm not important enough to warrant anything really special. You bein' as big as you are probably also threw it off. I sorta, uh...forgot to specify the extra bits when I called in for a 'port for two."
"Your attention to details is second only to your willingness to divulge them." While her tone had always been rather dry, this time it was positively desert-like. And while she couldn't see him, she could almost feel her companion (for the moment) flinch in response. Inevitably, however, she brought her arms about and put palms to floor, pushing herself up and onto her knees so she could get a look around.
It looked like some kind of...well, some kind of loosely scientific facility was her best guess. There was no shortage of equipment and technicians using it to make that much clear, though there was a surprising number of armed and armored personnel present as well. Many of which were eyeing her with something only a few steps down from open hostility, and who handled their weapons with the kind of readiness only someone expecting to need to open fire in the next ten seconds could.
"I am not welcome here," she said after only a few seconds of observation. It wasn't a question, just a note of her acknowledgement of that fact.
"Yeah, uh...like I said, I sorta forgot some specifics when I called in for our trip back here," Smythe mumbled sheepishly. "Just don't...don't make any sudden moves. I'll see what I can do to keep them from blowin' you to bits. Least I can do after you did my job for me, eh?"
"...yes. I suppose it is. May I at least shift to a less precarious sitting posture?"
"Huh? Ah, yeah...whatever. Just stay put, okay?" And he pulled down the hood of his raincoat. Dark hair, on both his head and struggling to grow something resembling a beard. Were it not for the artificially gleaming silver-green eyes and the almost sickly hue to what would have otherwise been fair and lightly-toned skin, he would have been indistinguishable from a human. The oddity of such a...mostly convincing synthetic with such glaring giveaways was puzzling to her, though she made no mention of it.
It had already been established that this was definitely not her home. Perhaps the standards of construction and integration were just that level of different here.
Ashe slowly shifted around, off of her knees and leaning back to sit down and crossed her legs before her, hands resting on her knees. The arms behind her back twitched and flexed, hands lightly curling and uncurling into fists. It seemed as if the chaotic teleport may have had some benefit after all, as basic function seemed to be returning to them. She would consider that a definite plus, even if it had come as a result of being ripped potentially halfway a cross an alien world and into a very nearly hostile encounter.
But she would do as bidden. Self-preservation and logic both dictated that she simply stay put, wait, and observe. Learn what she could from looking around, listening in to what went on, and try to seem non-threatening so she didn't find out what kind of firepower those weapon-toting guards were really packing.
And pray that Smythe actually came through and got this handled.