forwardmomentum: (Default)
forwardmomentum ([personal profile] forwardmomentum) wrote in [community profile] sunchime2017-02-06 06:57 pm

[ forces of the unseen ]



this is classy, right
hellsbel: (11)

[personal profile] hellsbel 2017-02-07 11:30 am (UTC)(link)
Miles, whoa! [you can body-check Bel any day, Admiral.<3 loops an arm around him purely so he doesn't hit the wall too -- nah, who're we fooling but the rest of the crew who need visible professionalism from their higher-ups, that was definitely a sneakhug. but that brightness is contagious, and Bel stows the suit-check list they were working on and jogs along beside him.]

Coming, coming -- what's the rush? Surely Danio hasn't slept it all off yet. Did he accidentally steal the crown jewels before we broke orbit too?

[too bad for him, if it's something like that. he's not quite the null-wit who burned that London liquor store down anymore, but a worse misdemeanor than a reported portside brawl would put his future with the fleet in question. again.]
hellsbel: (1)

[personal profile] hellsbel 2017-02-07 11:57 am (UTC)(link)
What. [and there goes an entirely different kind of adrenal spike, right there with the changing hum of the engine as the ship shifts course. trusting the night crew to know who they'd stowed in the hold isn't supposed to be a hit-or-miss proposition. did they check in a ringer? dear lord, not another clone.... and why would it tickle Miles's humor like this?

what do you know that I don't?

there's no time for more than a sharp glance at that ingenuous grin as they reach the holding cell. it's Danio there behind the forcefield, to the life, right down to the rumpled fleet grey-and-whites. but the two privates guarding him seem... unduly nervous about him. Miles must have filled them in from Nav and Comm before running down to fetch Bel; if anyone had noticed anything screwy beforehand, it would have been reported. but it hadn't. what is this?]
hellsbel: (16)

[personal profile] hellsbel 2017-02-07 12:17 pm (UTC)(link)
[seriously, what. okay, whatever's going on, Miles has a handle on it, but Bel, falling into parade rest just behind his shoulder, isn't thrilled to have an apparent clone mole in the crew take them by surprise. and what does Miles expect him to do in there, rip off his skin? some people can do wonders with prosthetics and attitude, but this is ridiculous.

holding a steady, flat gaze on the prisoner, Bel waits to see what kind of miraculous revelation could possibly clear this up.]
backsassin: (sunlight)

[personal profile] backsassin 2017-02-07 09:31 pm (UTC)(link)
[Finally. It takes a whole lot of willpower not to break into a grin as soon as she sees them, but Zam manages to hold off until Miles has dismissed the guards. Once he does, she favors them both with a smile a touch too quick and keen to look at home on the face of their crewman.]

Y’see, I thought about that – and then your man happened to waltz into the bar in full uniform and I couldn’t help myself. [Her voice matches Danio’s in pitch and timbre and yet is totally different in cadence, mannerism, and accent – vocal imitation has never really been Zam’s strong suit.] When was I going to get another opportunity like that?

[Her gaze flickers to Bel, a mischievous smirk on her lips – only to find no trace of recognition in her friend’s expression. That’s… strange. Either Bel is pulling the best poker face of all time, or they haven’t quite gotten the joke yet. And Zam had always thought they tended to be pretty quick on the uptake. Uncertainty flashes across her features before she looks back at Miles, smiling again at his request.]

I thought you’d never ask, [she says, batting her eyelashes in a way she knows must look ridiculous in her current form. Then, she closes her eyes, takes a breath, and changes. Flesh and bone become as malleable as clay, Danio’s features slipping away in a matter of seconds. The flurry of changes is rapid, certainly too quick to follow individually, and yet the result is a completely different person now sitting in the cell. Zam opens blue eyes, which dart quickly to Bel.]

I think that should clear some things up, [she says, her expression expectant as she awaits her friend’s reaction.]
hellsbel: (18)

[personal profile] hellsbel 2017-02-07 11:16 pm (UTC)(link)
[to be fair, Bel's poker face is extremely good. even if it is sorely tested at the first word off the prisoner's lips, because that is decidedly not Private Danio. the brief uncertain glance at Bel is a little closer to form, but the rest is viscerally different.

a spark runs up Bel's spine. for no reason. no conscious reason at all.

and then, Danio melts into someone else.



....the word Bel uses is not in the Dendarii regs.


the pieces that do make sense are easy to place. it's just Danio's luck to get rolled on leave, and wondering whether he woke up with any clothes had been good for a moment's amusement. but this is obviously some newly released bit of recreational R&D, modded for espionage; a power pack hidden under the uniform, maybe a preprogrammable holographic skin -- no, that never works -- nanites? but even the eyes -- and this is a test run, and the result incapacitates Bel's crewman and waltzes right onto Bel's ship, and would be home free if Danio hadn't made a completely different poor life choice shortly before running into whoever this is.....

slightly breathless]
Well. That's something. [a slight nod to Miles] I see why you wanted me down here.

[tech like this will rewrite the tactical manual forever; the security briefing alone is going to be a nightmare. WOW.]
backsassin: (over the shoulder)

[personal profile] backsassin 2017-02-08 04:35 pm (UTC)(link)
Just think of it as payback for skipping out on us early, [Zam takes that hand and uses it to pull Miles into a full-on hug. Did he really think she was going to settle for a kriffing handshake?] You couldn’t have at least warned us before you went Ingress-diving?

[As for Bel, their reaction is… less enthusiastic than Zam had hoped for. She pulls away from Miles, looking at Bel with a quizzical expression that only deepens when Miles starts talking as if he has to reintroduce them.]

What? Of course Bel remembers me. [She glances between them with a puzzled smile as if waiting for one of them to explain the joke.] I saw them, what, last week? [Her eyes settle on Bel, searching for some sign of what's going on. She can still remember the rush of emotion when they had realized they'd made it through the Ingress in one piece–and everything that came after.] It wasn’t really something you’d forget overnight.
hellsbel: (16)

[personal profile] hellsbel 2017-03-03 02:21 am (UTC)(link)
[wait, this isn't about new infiltration tech?

tenses as Miles is hauled forward -- between patchy memories of sudden loss and the relationship they're building now, Bel is fully aware that the urge to pull him back and body-check the stranger in the face is not entirely justified by the facts. the urge to shake him until an explanation falls out is rather more familiar, but Bel manages to heroically subdue that temptation (for now).

it all emerges in a rush, Miles beaming and the... new recruit-trainee?... seeming expectant? hopeful? surprised not to be recognized after whatever the hell that body-morph had been, flesh running liquid over impossibly melting bones -- hackle-raising if real. the last recruit-trainee Miles had surprised Bel with had been just as much of a shock; this one could probably have claws too, if she felt like it. the urge to shake him does not subside.

the name, though. that name.....

it's not memory but a hot bolt of knowing, highlighting the stranger in vividly active color. the smile, the cant of her head -- nothing about her is familiar. but it should be. it's right there, and it's just out of reach, and it's maddening.

better to underplay it, probably. better than offering false hope.]


Nothing comes to mind. [lips press together, a tight, fleeting expression before focusing on Zam. if this is legit, she deserves more than being sprung on Bel like a neurotherapy flashcard.] The Ingress saw fit to bury my memories before dropping me back on my ship. They've been... difficult to dig back up.

[a glance at Miles] Maybe we should take this to the tac room. [better than the corridors, for business such as this.]
backsassin: (very serious)

[personal profile] backsassin 2017-03-07 11:22 pm (UTC)(link)
[Zam stares at Bel, brow knitting in confusion.] That doesn’t make sense, [she protests, but then they’re moving out of the brig and Miles is asking questions. She looks between him and Bel as if searching for something they’re not telling her.]

I… we came here from the Midway Hub. Got spit out somewhere you called Escobar. [She looks at Bel when she says it, expression still at a loss.] You did remember. You still should. [One week shouldn’t make this much of a difference. After all, Zam and Miles had clearly retained their own memories.]

You didn't sustain any head trauma in the last week, did you?
hellsbel: (19)

[personal profile] hellsbel 2017-04-06 11:37 pm (UTC)(link)
Tell me what does make sense. [a thin, ironic smile, falling in as they move up the corridor, glancing at Zam over Miles's head. the bewildered protests of recognition could be an act, but something in Bel doesn't think so. not this time. there were probably other times...? but not this time.]

That's lucky. Escobar's a fairly convenient hub. So you made some inquiries, were directed to Ausland, and encountered our crewman [it would be Danio] by chance when you'd arrived?

[the lift decants them and they file into 'Tac, Bel heading for their usual seat, reflexively activating a privacy cone for extra security; the slight shimmer around them all foils any hypothetical ears at the door.]

Did I? [i don't remember lolololol] Good question. [relenting a little] Our medtech says no -- not recently, at least.

[now, though, there's a chance for a closer look at the newcomer, unimpeded by force fields or curious crew. straightening from the console, Bel stops almost shoulder to shoulder with Zam, and with the Betan disregard for galactic bubbles of personal space reaches up to turn the shapely face to the light, eyes searching.

softly]
Odds are I'm just unlucky.
backsassin: (serious)

[personal profile] backsassin 2017-09-16 12:56 am (UTC)(link)
I recognized his uniform. Seemed like the most surefire way of getting close to you two.

[She'd succeeded, though this is far from the reunion she'd envisioned. Given the circumstances, she isn’t expecting Bel to suddenly close the distance between them. A flurry of emotions flashes across Zam’s face at Bel’s touch—hope, desire, apprehension—only to shutter to disappointment when nothing changes in her (former?) friend’s gaze.

She steps back from Bel and turns to Miles, giving a huff of unhappy laughter at his words.]
I always suspected that karking machine had it in for me. [Zam could almost mistake it for deliberate cruelty, the way it had given her a few elated moments with Bel before ripping them—and their memories—away. Maybe it was.

She looks back at Bel, still hovering at the edge of her space.]


Miles must’ve told you about the Moira. Does any of it sound familiar at all?