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: (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.

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?