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Author Topic: Thank You For Calling Tech Support [Cheesi!][M][That escalated quickly :D]  (Read 458 times)

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Offline nephero

TW: alien gore and sexual themes. /o/

In space, no one can hear you cuss viciously at astral navigation maps.

Otto stared down at the navboard, hands perched on do the side of the large table like structure, little pricks of light floating in a three dimensional glitter of nearby landmarks.

Or rather, supposedly nearby landmarks.

Otto stared at the long string of codes and numbers that made up his supposed coordinates, chewed at his lip. What was that old trick Lucien taught him? If you take an inanimate object and slowly explain the code to it, eventually you'll figure out what went wrong.

And so, with no shortage of hyperawareness at how silly this was, Otto set down the fantastically colored bobble-head dog in front of him, and slowly began to explain the exact neural network of the navigation computer.

When he finally found the issue, he about damn near threw the bobblehead out the airlock. It wouldn't solve anything, of course, but it would sure as shit make him feel better.

Casual destruction was the only outlet he had left. It’d been a week since he'd left port, and he hadn't thought to up his supply then. It was only two days’ flight from A to B, and that was factoring in the spider web route he'd had to take to avoid Troublesome Traffic.

And it was exactly somewhere in that spider web that he'd run into the snag in his calculations. And that snag had left him listing in what appeared to be the garbage dump of space. Endless kilometers of debris, dust and nothing. Not so much as an offshoot food n’ fuel, let alone a pharmaceutical depot.

Otto was very, very aware of this last fact. He took a breath, and casually ignored how badly his knuckles itched.

Okay. Okay, this was salvageable. He could work with this. He still had plenty of fuel, plenty of oxygen. Food stores were a little low, but he'd been off his feed for a long while now, so the limited amount would be adequate. And while it wasn't the best taste in the world, there was plenty of condensation for “drinking” water.

At least he'd caught the glitch early. He'd have been utterly fucked if he hadn't caught the mistake when he did-- any further, and there wouldn't have been the fuel to get him even to Aedolian space.

Dead in the void.

Otto shuddered.

Best not to think that way.

Clicking over a few switches, the engines hummed in response to the command to adjust their course. It’d be a tight squeeze, of course, but anything was better than dying from oxygen deprivation.

His boarders were good at keeping them alive, but they weren't that good.

Otto ran his fingers through his hair and let out a sigh. He needed… something. Anything. Even coffee. Did he still have coffee? He thought there was a scoop or two left. It’d be weak as fuck, but something about beggars being choosers.

A few minutes and one very large albeit very translucent mug later, Otto was settled in the cockpit, feet kicked up onto the dashboard and an endless cascade of stars before him.

A hundred thousand voices chittered at the exact back of his skull, rattling against the bone in a cascading echo. Otto tried to ignore them, but the hum and buzz only grew louder. More insistent. On edge. Sighing into his coffee mug, the Aedolian expatriate leaned forward, scanning the sensors before squinting out the windshield.

Wait a tic. What the hell was that?

A ship?
« Last Edit: November 23, 2017, 11:13:39 PM by nephero »

Offline Cheesigator

Re: Thank You For Calling Tech Support [Cheesi!]
« Reply #1 on: October 07, 2017, 06:51:24 AM »
"Son of a bitch.."

Kirkley spat as the monitor lit up with a red tint as three foreign ships approached, heading right for him. He'd been wary of taking this shipment for a couple of reasons: One, the guy in Tynova who asked it of him seemed skeevy as fuck, and Two, he didn't usually like dealing with live animals as merchandise. Apparently they were a black market set of predatory creatures (which reminded him of himself enough to be too close for comfort) that were a rare find on Edanith, and some rich CEO in Aedolis wanted to collect himself a pack.

But the money he'd offered as payment was good, and while Kirkley wasn't sure it was worth it right now, it had been enough to convince him back on Edanith.

The biggest problem he had right now was that he'd only been in space for just under two hours and there were already people after him, supposedly for the nasty little creatures currently trying to tear the shit out of each other through their individual pet carriers down in the cargo hold. Well, he had other stuff for transportation down there as well but those were much more legal and far less coveted.

"Knew I shoulda picked up a gunman." He grumbled under his breath, setting most of the ship's defenses to autofire.

The Loveless wasn't exactly built to be speedy as much as it was durable, and trying to maneuver to shoot three ships from three separate directions that small was going to be pretty much impossible. Which meant only one thing; either he'd have to wait for them to board and take them all down himself, or wait for the right moment and make a quick jump to hyperspace to outrun them.

Last option sounded good for now.

He took manual control of the twin ion laser canons in the ship's maw, one of the enemies coming into view; there was no warning, no transmission telling him how he could give up the cargo and go home. Just two shots fired that hit the broadside of Loveless and then it was off to battle. He was able to take one down himself, relying partly on the auto-tracking of the ship controlled guns underneath the flexible plating on the sides of the ship, but mostly relying on his ability to maneauver the damn thing through space. The second of the three was keeping a distance, firing consistent shots trying to wear down the shield and keep him pinned in one spot while the third came up from behind, finding one of the cargo entrances, hacking clearances and getting ready to board.

"Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuc k," He jumped up from captain's chair and jumped down to the first level and then down another flight of stairs, through a corridor in crew quarters to the vehicle docking bay.

The moment he opened the blast doors the sound of lasers and the smell of scorching metal made him drop to the floor, peeking around the edge of the door to see three of them. Their vessel was small, barely big enough to handle the cargo. He rolled out, taking cover locked down crates of parts, tools, and supplies, using stealth and his own sense of smell to locate the guy closest to him. They definitely weren't pretty; they all had goggles on and had skin the color and consistency of a muddy green toad.

One started to come around the corner and he moved, grabbing the muzzle of the gun and ignoring how it burned his hand as the creature yelped with surprise and fired, the shot scorching the floor while he pulled the raider to him, keeping the gun pointed to the ground while he punched the thing's lights out, yanked the pulse rifle from it when it was dazed and shot it twice in the head.

The other two weren't quite as easy, circling around to get him from both sides just as he finished off their companion; one shot got him in the shoulder and he fired at the other, catching them in the gut before he rolled a dodge and fired at them both from behind a supply crate. One down, one to go. Ammo ran out.

It was clicking at him like an angry cockroach.

He took a breath and ran out from his cover, tackling the third one to the ground and wrestling with it for several moments, the two of them rolling around on the floor scrabbling at each other before he kicked the gun away, punched it a good five or six times and then slammed its head into the ground. Their blood was goopy.

He grabbed the gun and shot it with it unconscious, just as the ship's lights changed to red and warned him that the shields were down.

He ran back to the front of the ship, shoulder burning and itching and smelling like singed meat, cursing all the while that he had for some stupid reason figured he didn't need a crew for this mission.

Fuckin idiot!

He got back up to the main console, a thin layer of sweat making his skin shine as he panted and punched in the code to eject the vessel from the docking bay, and made the jump to hyperspace--but he wasn't quite fast enough. With the shields down the final enemy vessel fired a strange lightning-looking shot that made electricity seize up the whole ship right as it went into hyperspace; his jump was cut short and he came out in the middle of nowhere.

The momentum of the attack and the movement of the jump had thrown him to the ground, and he lay there in the silence for a moment until all excess lights went out, along with the monitor and most of the controls. The engines shut off, and he was left there floating silently through space.

".. Great." He grumbled, slowly pushing himself up. Tested the buttons on the console, nothing.

So now he was stranded with a bunch of vehemently angry animals in his cargo hold and not a single technician to help him get things back online. He'd have to call someome like Ain or Belliel from Galley La, wait for them to come out and get the ship running, and hope like hell those raiders didn't show up and kill him dead in the meantime.

He could really use a shot of whiskey right now.

Offline nephero

Re: Thank You For Calling Tech Support [Cheesi!]
« Reply #2 on: October 08, 2017, 04:34:21 PM »
It was always a risk, encountering another ship. There were a lot of variables that went into everything. Who's colors the ship flew under being first and foremost, whether they were Aedolian or an independent vessel operating under TRIM interests, whether they flew under pirate colors or worse.

Because that was always a possibility. There were all kinds of stories about some good soul stopping to try and help out what they had assumed was just some poor schmuck down on their luck, only to have a bunch of pirate skimmers come out of nowhere to blow out their engines.

But then again... this could also be completely legit. Someone who genuinely needed help.

Otto chewed at his lip, felt his boarders recoil at the idea of going into potential danger, and made his decision. If he died out here trying to do the right thing, well. That wasn't so bad. Besides, Ironsides was a quick ship; first hint of danger, he could skip right on out.

Easing the controls out of their automatic navigation path, Otto brought his tinier one-man up alongside the floating ship, eyeballing the exterior damage. It certainly looked real enough, scorch marks and all. But it could also be that it had been intentionally fired upon for a more "authentic" experience.

Not that it mattered. Otto was already zipping up his void suit, hair pulled back into a tight knot.

"Command: Single ping to port side vessel. Command: Attempt communication establishment, no target change, channel two." Otto paused, waited for the confirmatory blip. Well, he supposed this was it. Either he was gonna die, or he wasn't.

The boarders hissed and chittered, but there was nothing for them to do. Even they seemed to understand there would be no discussion on the matter, because they switched tactics from firing off every last one of his danger signals to pushing all their collective efforts to perception. If they couldn't stop Otto from doing something stupid, best to be on the lookout for what might want to eat them all.

Otto licked his lips, watched as the light above the channel two reading blinked yellow before turning a solid, steady green.

"This is Otto Ripley hailing unknown vessel, coordinates EA-KI 147 by ED-AM 77. Noting external damage, do you require assistance? Over." And right back to blinking yellow again.

Offline Cheesigator

Re: Thank You For Calling Tech Support [Cheesi!]
« Reply #3 on: October 08, 2017, 11:34:25 PM »
Well, first things first. He had a nice, crispy burned shoulder that could use a bit of patching up before he just sat around and called for backup, hoping that those raiders didn't catch up to finish the job while he waited.

He moved from the deck to the second level and into the med bay, unlocking the cabinet on the wall and finding some salve to put on his shoulder, wincing at the sting before he wrapped some gauze around it for it to heal faster and called it a day. It wasn't like it would take forever even if he didn't apply any aid to it, but obviously he was in a bit of a hurry here.

He made his way back out, and went down a few flights of stairs and corridors to get to the back cargo bay from earlier. One of the alien bodies was still on the floor, where it had been caught on a crate when he'd opened the bay doors to expel the ship from earlier. Great, a mess he'd have to clean up later.

He opened up a strong metal chest bolted against the wall and pulled out an electrical toolbox, figuring if he was gonna try and fix this himself he might as well start somewhere. Or maybe he should just call Galley La first? He was better at building things like houses and shit, not fixing computers. Of all things, why did life have to throw this at him right now?

The darkened room, filled only with dim, grayish-green light from emergency lights along the walls on a backup power generator was suddenly lit up as the comm speaker on the wall lit up, the screen displaying a small error and that it was receiving a communication request from somewhere off the ship. He stared hard at the panel for a moment before he dropped the toolbox and bolted back up the stairs to the front deck, looking out the windows but ultimately not able to see anything right off the bat.

He stepped up to the panel on the wall, relieved at the very least that local, nearby communication was apparently still A-OK, and accepted the request.

"This is Otto Ripley hailing unknown vessel, coordinates EA-KI 147 by ED-AM 77. Noting external damage, do you require assistance? Over."

He paused for a moment, resting his elbow against the wall, scratching his chin. Either this was somebody else trying to get on board and steal his shit, or this was an actual decent person. He was pretty sure he wouldn't survive being jettisoned into space if it came down to it, but on the other hand, this could actually be a decent person trying to help. And Kirkley could handle most things by himself. Clearly. Cough.

He let out a sigh, hanging his head for a moment as he worried his bottom lip and thought about it before finally pressing the button to send a message back.

"I hear ya. Well if you're offering a little help it'd be much appreciated, wouldn't go unpaid of course." He let go of the button and stepped back, running a hand through his hair before he tightened the ponytail keeping the majority of it out of his face.

This was either going to be a godsend or a pain in his ass.

"I'm opening the cargo bay doors, located at the back end of the ship, underside. If you can maneuver your vessel inside I'll be down there to welcome you personally." He managed to open up a few options on the smaller console panel on the wall, overriding the emergency lockdown codes on some of the doors--keeping more important ones, like the blast doors sealing off the captain's quarters in place--to open them for the sake of his... Guest? He supposed.

The bay doors in the underbelly of the ship opened for the second time today; there was enough room in Loveless to hold several small personal cruisers in that bay, which always made it handy for whenever he was carrying crew around, so at the very least this stranger could have a place to park their ride so to speak. Once their vessel was safely inside, the doors would close themselves and it'd take another sixty seconds pump the room full of air and make it safe and breathable again, standard procedure.

He headed on down, pausing by a locker room in the lower level and getting a gun while he was at it. Y'know. Better safe than sorry. His right arm was the one that had been shot so he'd have to rely on his lefty, but he hoped he wouldn't have to use it. He wasn't as good of a shot with that one.

Offline nephero

Re: Thank You For Calling Tech Support [Cheesi!]
« Reply #4 on: October 19, 2017, 06:13:05 PM »
“I hear ya. Well if you're offering a little help…”

There were a few tells, if you knew where to look and what to listen for, that let you know when something was a trap. A veteran of dodging such things could probably tell before the first word was spoken-- unfortunately for Otto, his boarders tended to scream bloody murder about almost anything that he was even slightly unsure of, and that tended to skew judgment by a fair margin.

Luckily enough, though, he'd already made up his mind.

“I'm opening the cargo bay doors, located at the back end of the ship, underside.” The voice continued, and Otto shifted in his seat, and gently began easing his own little one-man to the side, breaking away from the parallel drift he'd been in. Ironsides breathed around him, engines humming as the minor jets pushed him back around to the aft of the injured ship. The poor thing. “If you can maneuver your vessel inside I'll be down there to welcome you personally.”

“Copy that,” Otto said, clicking the connection shut again to better focus on his flying. Ironsides was more than agile enough to handle the maneuver, and plenty small to fit in through the cargo doors. He moved from the cockpit once the landing gear clicked into place, adjusting his void suit and gathering up whatever tools he might need for the job.

Diagnostic screen, cabling, screwdrivers,, and…

Otto’s mouth pressed into a thin line as he considered the laser-cutter, before packing that up as well. Better to have it and not need it and all that.

By that point the life support systems had more than enough time to make the cargo bay habitable again, and he dropped the ramp from his own ship to climb on down, helmet tucked under his arm and bag of tools slung over his shoulder.

Well, at least he hadn't been shot yet. That mitigated the worried buzzing in his temples by quite a bit, though all the strange smells that were bombarding him prevented him from fully relaxing.

He turned his head to the side, frowning at a particular set of scents, a cocktail of animal instincts and aggression seeped into every last molecule. Musky and sour. Well, something in here was pissed, but then again, the outer hull damage didn't really scream “sunshine and rainbows”.

Gripping the cutter in his hand, Otto looked around for his apparent host amongst the sizeable bay.

Pretty big for a ghost town.


Offline Cheesigator

Re: Thank You For Calling Tech Support [Cheesi!]
« Reply #5 on: October 22, 2017, 01:02:24 AM »
Kirkley found himself standing by the bay doors with his jaw clenched, muscles tight and shoulders set. The safety was off on the pulse rifle he'd picked, and his good eye was locked on the oxygen level indicator. This was the moment of truth; either he'd let another criminal into the ship or he'd actually have some good fortune and get some help. He wasn't really sure what to expect--you never could, out here in space. Anything could happen, which had definitely something that took many years of exploration and learning from his own damn mistakes to properly understand; y'know, back when space exploration was still a relatively new concept.

Hell that'd been forever ago. He really shoulda just told the stranger thanks but no thanks and called for professional help from someone he at least knew he could trust. He wasn't sure if he could survive getting thrown out an airlock, after all. Hadn't tried it yet, and sure as shit didn't want to.

The light buzzed green and the bay doors unlocked; he opened them, the din echoing off of the fortified steel walls inside. He stepped down the ledge into the bay proper, the butt of the gun pressed to his shoulder though he didn't look through the sights.

The visitor's ship was relatively small, sleek, and he couldn't put his finger on it but it had character. As did the person who piloted it, apparently.


The voice echoed in the open spaces of the room and Kirkley stepped around a strapped-down crate a few feet taller than his own head and saw the lone man in a void suit with a kit in hand.

He did a quick sniff test, but all he got was this guy's scent, which meant if there was anybody else in that lil' craft then it'd have to be a droid. Feeling comforted by that fact, he slowly lowered the gun and nodded to him.

"Hey there--sorry, just gotta play it safe." He said in reference to the gun.

His eyebrows knitted a tad, he thought his ears picked up something like a rhythmic humming, but he couldn't tell if it was a weapon or the guy's ship, or hell even this stranger himself. Or maybe it was ringing in his ears from when he'd been thrown to the deck earlier, he mighta hit his head. Wouldn't have surprised him in the least.

If he recalled right, stranger said his name was Otto Ripley earlier, and he was certainly a strange one to look at, not that Kirkley was one to judge. There was something slightly off about him he couldn't put a finger on, but he sure had some rather disarming looks--pretty eyes, full lips.

"Name's Kirkley--if you can get this ship up and running I'll gladly pay you for it, saves me time having to call someone else." He stepped aside, nodding for Otto to follow him into the ship proper. "Seems like my ship got hit with an EMP of some kind, made me stop halfway through my getaway jump and shut down just about every major computer system. Mechanical stuff I can fix well enough, computer? Not so much."

The bay doors sealed shut behind them as he glanced over his shoulder at this Otto, the buzzing still there. Weird.

Offline nephero

Re: Thank You For Calling Tech Support [Cheesi!]
« Reply #6 on: November 01, 2017, 02:44:45 PM »
You see, you see, you see! Otto's boarders shrieked and chittered, clawing at his nerves in a desperate attempt to take hold, to climb and hijack his limbs and fight back against this behemoth with everything he had.

Thankfully, despite his overwhelming and persistent sobriety, Otto was able to push through the stinging cacophony behind his eyes, blinking them soundly until the world righted itself to where he could feasibly process the common tongue.

At the very least, the boarders screamed a little more quietly once this gigantic man (and wow, he was gigantic) lowered his weapon. A potential threat still maybe, but at least no longer actively aggressive.

"Ah," Otto said, super duper smartly, "yes, I understand."

If he didn't have such a splitting headache forming, and if every outside stimulus weren't screaming for his attention, Otto might have thought to correct his speech to be more... hm. At all even slightly understandable.

But he did have that imminent headache, and so he didnt, and the most he could manage was stilted and slow-- like a drunk trying to convince the local authorities he absolutely was not trying to operate loading equipment while totally shitfaced.

"This it... happens. Navigations run kn sequence, and when this sequence is interrupted, it is a safety thing... to cancel all of the sequence. Otherwise--" Otto pursed his lips and made a loud popping noise, "inside of a star is where you go."

Thankfully, from what this man, Kirkley, was saying, it would he a simple fix-- find the wrinkle and iron it out. Talk to the bobble headed dog. Commune with the flurry of ones and zeros.

Otto followed Kirkley into the ship, and if he had more time, he'd have wanted to stay and linger on it further. Because it was a right beauty, unique and individual all its own, the steady thrum of life support systems a separate and distinct voice from what he'd hear on his own ship.

It smelled different, too, though that didn't seem to be all Kirkley, something else on the edges to where even Otto couldn't quite place it. Even when the entirety of the hive put everything into his nose to try and suss it out.

All they got for their efforts was a quick sequence of sneezes from the Aedolian man, just as he was brought in to see the systems he'd be working on.

"Sorry. Different filters, it's been some time since breathing outside of mine. Eh. Okay. Let me just have see here." He moved low, reaching under one panel to feel for a release, popping the casing just enough to lift a square of metal away and expose the terribly still heart beneath it.

Reaching into his kit, Otto pulled out a small tablet and a set of cords, creating a daisy chain from ship to tablet to the port set at the base of his skull. He grimaced as the rod slid into place, but the unpleasant chill didn't last, soon replaced by buzzing warmth as electricity flowed between him and the ship, passing along bits of data as they both went.

Luckily, it really was as simple as Kirkley had made it sound. All it would really take was a readjustment and quick reboot, the interstellar version of unplugging a thing and plugging it back in. Because hell if technology ever really changed that much.

"It is hard," Otto said, mildly distracted by the information flow and sounding a little dazed as a result, "if whole system is down like this. The... off button is off, like that. Can't do without extra tools..."

He flicked a finger up, just as several lights blinked into existence on the board, a growing hum signalling the resurgence of operations.

"Bam. It is done."

Offline Cheesigator

Re: Thank You For Calling Tech Support [Cheesi!]
« Reply #7 on: November 07, 2017, 01:21:37 PM »
The more this stranger spoke, the more Kirkley found his eyebrows raising into his hairline. He had a very unique accent, one he thought he'd heard before but couldn't remember where or place even what country it might be from. In the universe they lived in, it coulda been anywhere. Or maybe he was just remembering something that sounded similar--either way, he didn't press it. It wasn't important.

What was more important was keeping an eye on him, and hoping he hadn't just let some raider onto his ship that would just disable it further and summon all his buddies to come help take it apart and toss Kirkley out an airlock. He didn't know yet if he could survive the freezing... Ness, of space, and he didn't exactly want to find out.

That being said, even though he was paying attention... He couldn't exactly understand him. And it wasn't even the accent--guy sounded like he was drunk and now he was really questioning whether or not it had been a good idea to let him on board (no, Kirkley. The answer is always no when it comes to letting strangers on board your space ship.) But maybe that was just how he always talked? His ears twitched, he could still hear that buzzing and there was no doubt now that it was definitely coming from this stranger named Otto. He paid the sneezing no mind, understanding and waving it off like nothing. It wasn't like he could get sick so what did he care?

"I'll make pretend like I understood ya and we'll call it a day at that, how 'bout."

He said as he leaned against the doorway to what he called for lack of better words, 'that there computer room.' Reva had probably told him hundreds of times now the name to every part on this ship and he still forgot. An engineer he definitely was not, but he at least had a vague understanding of how most of it worked, even if he referred to most of the parts as 'doohickey', 'thingy', 'that other thingy', and so on and so forth.

His eyebrows raised yet again as Otto immediately got to work, and as he stood there in the doorway it gave him a good few moments to look him over without it being obvious he was staring. He found his head tilting naturally the way a dog's would, he tended to do that whenever he was curious about things. It let the sounds bounce off the inner workings of his ears better, cause listening to things always helped.

Kirkley heard that distinct buzzing even better, along with the beat of the man's heart, and to a point even the little electrical pulses running through the wires as he hooked himself up to the ship's mainframe and... Did that thing. That he was doing. Look, he'd seen a lot of things in his time, and it wasn't the first time he'd encountered someone that could literally hook themselves up to a computer. Was he a cyborg? Potentially. But that didn't explain the constant buzzing, because while it was mostly uniform it had fluctuations in it, because nothing in nature was perfect, only computers were. If he were a computer, the noises he'd be making should've been consistent, like a constantly looping pattern. But the minor changes in tone, intensity, etc, made him think that whatever this Otto guy was it was more alien and biological than anything else.

He didn't really realize it, but he'd instinctively stepped over towards Otto as he grew more and more intensely curious about the man himself rather than what he was doing to the ship; he crouched down by him in silence, close enough to sense the other's body heat as he glanced at the tablet he held in his hands, looking at the wires. He smelled interesting, too. He just couldn't place it and that was driving him fuckin nuts.

The words Otto was murmuring weren't paid attention to so much as the sound of his voice laced with that accent as Kirkley tried to figure him out. He started a bit when suddenly the stranger raised a finger and the lights all went up, the unmistakable and familiar hum of the generators and engines filling the ship again and making the ancient beast look around in mild surprise. It didn't seem like he hacked the ship or anything just yet.

"Color me surprised," He murmured as he stood up, before all lights switched to red and the ship's warning alarm filled every room and corridor.

"Oh, great timing." He looked at Otto, hesitating briefly as he wondered if he could trust this guy at all now before he unlocked a touch-screen panel on the side wall and pulled up the ship's external cameras, which didn't show strange raider ships that might be buddies with buzz-boy over here, but more of the same little aliens he'd pissed off earlier that were coming out of warp a bit too close to The Loveless for comfort.

Damn, it'd only been a matter of time before the fuckers caught up but they were faster than he'd expected.

"Which would you prefer, steering or shooting?" He asked as he looked at Otto, because when push comes to shove there ain't no room for doubt and if either of them wanted to get out of this without making a huge mess, then they might as well do each other a favor and work well together for now.

Offline nephero

Re: Thank You For Calling Tech Support [Cheesi!]
« Reply #8 on: November 07, 2017, 11:07:21 PM »
Despite the near-overwhelming flow of information that was cascading along his spinal column, translated back and forth until it became something marginally understandable, Otto was very, painfully aware of how close the other man was getting.

It wasn't like he'd have minded the approach, at any other time. Any other place. On the Cancer, at a bar, something. Something that wasn't in the middle of nowhere and all by himself and half-way pulled out of his own stream of consciousness. His boarders hissed and chittered, forcing every hair on the back of his neck to stand on end, gooseflesh erupting beneath his voidsuit. Thankfully, invisible.

But, it didn't seem like Kirkley was approaching with attack in mind-- quite the opposite, the giant of a man seemed almost wary of Otto. Which was, honestly, downright hysterical. Otto was pretty sure Kirkley could snap him like a twig. Because let's be real, here, he hadn't exactly been eating right the past few weeks, and he'd always been this side of slender.

But hey, could never be too careful. For all Kirkley knew, Otto had set the engines to self destruct, or some shit like that. As if they had any such protocols, though he supposed overloading them would do the same. Not that he would, but the consideration helped him zone out, ignore the buzzing in his nerves.

Otto opened his mouth, about to say something-- and never got the chance. Everything went red, and his jaw snapped shut, tight, teeth grit hard beneath closed lips. Fuck him sideways in a nightgown, the parasites were right, this was a goddamn trap--

He'd reached for his toolkit, fingers just brushing the handle of his multitool, though that was an absolutely laughable option. What did he even expect to do with that? But Kirkley was speaking, and after a few scattered, terrorized milliseconds, Otto finally understood.

This ship, the lovely Loveless, as she had introduced herself, had been damaged badly, and it looked like whoever was responsible was back to finish what they'd started. He'd just had the bad luck of still being on board when they showed up, it seemed. Quickly detaching himself from the ship, Otto stashed everything back in his kit, kicking that under one panel for safe-keeping. All except the laser-cutter, which after a few tests to make sure it was fully functional, he turned the dial way up on.

Nothing said hello like a stream of metal-melting heat to the face.

"Your ship," he said, in answer to the question of preference, "she'll move better for someone she trusts. I'll take shooting gallery."

Offline Cheesigator

Re: Thank You For Calling Tech Support [Cheesi!]
« Reply #9 on: November 08, 2017, 01:09:02 AM »
Kirkley eyed the man for a moment before pursing his lips and nodding, glancing out to the corridor outside where the gun he'd stolen had been left leaning against the wall.

"Gun's there if you need it, try not to die." One less body to clean up, and also Kirkley would feel real bad if he did cause then it'd technically be his fault.

At that he bolted to the front end of the ship to take the helm, pulling up the monitors on the big screen/windshields that displayed the total damages. It looks like the first round of aliens had managed to do a pretty good number on Loveless, the port side engine was damaged and the thruster was broke pretty damn good. It wasn't life threatening or mission ending--but it did mean they'd be crawling at a snail's pace to sail anywhere and while that'd be fine if they weren't being chased... They were being chased.

There were three ships total, and he knew he couldn't avoid them all but he'd be damned if he didn't try. He took evasive maneuvers, or as best as he could given Loveless's capabilities. As the ships flanked them, one on each side and one coming up from behind and below to try and board the ship he turned Loveless, narrowly missing the ship on the left side in favor of leveling the one on the right with one of her cannon's and blowing it to smithereens.

The aliens had smaller ships though, zippy, and while the one on the left couldn't stop in time and started to crash against Loveless's siding (she was built like a tank it was the least of Kirkley's concerns right now tbh,) the third ship had managed to hack their way in to the bay where Otto's ship was stationed. He didn't notice quickly enough though, as he was trying to set the ship straight again to ease off on the collision with the first alien ship, and by the time he saw the camera monitor for the cargo bay that was now filled once again with aliens, who were now sabotaging Otto's ship, he swore.

He did his best to fire at the remnants of the first ship, missing part of it due to the poor angle but that was enough for him; time to go run to the other end of the ship and make sure his mechanic friend here wasn't dead yet.

Offline nephero

Re: Thank You For Calling Tech Support [Cheesi!]
« Reply #10 on: November 13, 2017, 07:21:55 PM »
What did you learn from this? The memory of Lucien's omnipresent question came up, unbidden, but entirely needed. Otto pulled the butt of Kirkley's rifle up and against his shoulder, and thought. What did he learn from this?

The attackers didn't fire to destroy. Thus far the only shots that had hit, from Otto's prior observations and the subtle shift in artificial gravity as the Loveless evaded as best she could, had been shots aiming to cripple rather than outright obliterate. They wanted whatever it was on the Loveless they wanted, and keeping it all intact seemed to be a top priority. Which could have meant any number of things, if Otto had the luxury of time to spend musing over it. But if he had to guess quickly, which he did, Otto would have placed his bets on wanting whatever was in the ship's cargo hold.

The thought made Otto grimace-- Ironsides was down there, and the mere thought of grubby pirate bastard hands all over her was... unthinkable. Horrendously disgustingly unthinkable. As if feeding off of Otto's internal turmoil, his boarders chittered, swarming like angry hornets and flooding his senses. He jerked to a stop at the end of one hallway, pressed flat against the wall just short of the corner.

Pressure welled in his head, at some place just behind his eyes, and Otto pulled the trigger just as one of the aliens whirled the corner. The sound it made was almost sad, but even that didn't last long before the creature hit the floor, now full of gooey, burning holes. Gross. The pressure behind his eyes abated, and Otto turned the corner, taking off again at a run at the distant sound of scraping and clanging metal. Oh no, oh hell no, oh those rotten goddamn sons of bitches--

The boarders tried to warn him, but rage had carried Otto right through the door, and he had to make a mad dash behind some crates before he was reduced to a pile of ash. He crouched low, cussing loudly as bits of the crate broke off and rained down on his head, his boarders hissing in one wild cacophony, louder and louder until Otto couldn't hear anything over their noise, not the sound of laser fire or the cracking of crates, or any of the alien language that was being shouted just a mere few feet away.

There was nothing but buzzing, that droning buzzing, and without even realizing it, he was on the move, following some low, unspoken command as he scuttled behind another set of crates.

It was almost ironic, really. Fighting off a horde of alien attackers with the help of some alien attackers. But when they itched, he squeezed the trigger, and a line of three of the nasty bastards erupted in goo before returning fire had Otto ducking low again. Something itched in his brain again, and Otto moved, just as something big hit the crates, shattering them into what would have been a very bad end to a very bad day. Shards of hard plastic bounced off the opposite wall, and Otto raised the gun up over the top of his present cover, unloading hard on the alien closest to him.

The artificial gravity was still shifting beneath his boots, but in a far different way. Precise and calculated, as if the gravity already knew which way it would have to move. He knew plenty of good pilots, of course, and Kirkley wasn't too shabby either, but no one was this good. Only computers, which meant the autopilot had been engaged.

Shit, which meant Kirkley was going to run in to a hellstorm of fire if he didn't draw them away from the main doors. Otto made another mad dash, ducking when the itch demanded it of him. It wasn't ideal, but it did have the desired effect; the aliens had had been grouped up around Ironsides now had their backs partially turned to the main doors, and with enough angled fire, Otto made sure to keep their attention that way.

Offline Cheesigator

Re: Thank You For Calling Tech Support [Cheesi!]
« Reply #11 on: November 15, 2017, 10:26:49 PM »
Had he taken a moment to think, he might've grabbed a gun or something from weapons storage on the mid-level here before he ran blindly into open fire. But he didn't think because he didn't really have the time to--well, that and he was getting pretty agitated. These little alien fucks were making what he'd been told would be a nice and easy mission a real pain in his ass, and to make matters worse now there was an actual decent person involved in the crossfire.

That didn't sit right with him, not at all. So no he didn't really need a gun.

Not when he was planning on tearing them apart with his teeth and hands.

The bay doors opened and he was greeted with the sound of laser fire and the wave of burning flesh scent, but Otto's wasn't in the mix there--not blood or burning, anyway. Those would've had a slightly different tang to em.

He arched an eyebrow at the aliens with their backs to the door--clever mechanic--and dropped the brief amusement when one turned to look over their shoulder and immediately raised a gun to fire at him. The blast caught his other shoulder, scalding hot before it settled into a stinging sensation that itched and burned and made his ears ring. He clenched his jaw, hands balled tightly into fists as something seemed to crawl under his skin; bones shifting and moving, stretching his flesh taught as he fought to keep that anger under control, and for a brief second it was visible.

It was enough to deter that alien from a second shot and it was all he needed to step forward, taking another hit to his hip before he snatched the gun, the barrel burning his hand as he yanked it from the creature's grip and side-swiped it, the butt of the gun clocking the alien in the jaw and sending it flying across the hanger. He spun the gun in his hand as he grabbed one alien by the neck, kicking another in the chest before he shoved the entirety of the gun's barrel down the first alien's esophagus and pulled the trigger, the shots making its body light up on the inside as steam errupted from its mouth. Hand still on its throat he tossed it into the other two standing there, his muscles tensing as he stepped over to them and knelt down while they started to squirm under their commrade's body, clenched his right hand tight, pulled back and punched their skulls in with all the force he could muster, the sounds of their bones caving in and squelching blending in with the sound of the metal cargo bay flooring denting inward with the force of each blow.

"I. AM. SO. DONE. WITH. YOUR. SHIT." He stopped after a moment, assessing the damage briefly before deciding yeah they wouldn't be getting up from that, and he stood back up.

"Seriously you fucks just don't quit." He panted, glancing around the hangar to see no survivors left standing, other than Otto. Who he now looked over to, nodding at him.

"Y'alright?" He rolled his shoulders, skin glossy with sweat and marred with blood splatters and singed flesh.

He was glad he'd kept the jacket off earlier after the first scuffle, because now he only had a ruined tank top to worry about. Those were easy enough to replace. Not so easy to replace? He glanced at Otto's ship, wincing at the damages. Yeah that wasn't such an easy fix.

"Guess that means we're stuck together a lil bit longer. I got some good folks on The Cancer who can fix that right up for ya--my treat, since you helped me out. We'll call it even?"

He raised his hands amicably, blinking and noticing the brain matter and blood and... Bits of skull on them as he quickly shook them off and wiped them on his jeans lile that would make it any less gross.

Offline nephero

Re: Thank You For Calling Tech Support [Cheesi!]
« Reply #12 on: November 18, 2017, 12:27:23 PM »
The smell was... unbearable. Acrid and full of ozone and whatever other nasty little chemicals made up the innards of those aliens, and Otto couldn't help but shield his nose with the back of his hand before he finally, thankfully, got his gag reflex under control again.

"Ugh. I am fine," he mumbled, squinting through watery eyes at Kirkley and feeling his boarders shift and scuttle and buzz away. Though this time... this time, the sensation was different. Otto's heart was still hammering, adrenaline was still saturating his systems, and so it took him a few seconds to catch up to what had gotten the bugs' attention.

Kirkley looked... very nice all scuffed up like that. Very, very nice. Whatever misgivings his boarders had had about Kirkley before, they'd certainly changed their tune now, settling down in his spine and plucking at all the good nerves they could. It was a bit of emotional whiplash, to be certain, going from aggression and animal fear to this, and Otto almost pictured himself sitting across a table from the collective swarm, eyebrows firmly raised while they kept their myriad hands folded in front of them. Because, really?


Not that he held it against them, because, objectively speaking, yes, Kirkley looked really, really good covered in sweat. The fact that he'd beaten their combatants to a pulp with his bare hands was a bonus. A solid bonus, which Otto needed to firmly ignore before it got out of control. There was still work to do, cleanup for starters, and... oh.

Oh, Ironsides.

Otto made an unhappy little sound as he moved to his ship, touching at the external damage and peeking inside to where the aliens had started carving her up like a Yule goose. His fingers lingered against broken metal and cut wiring, nose filled with the acrid stench of melted electronics. He was good, of course, but... this was a little out of his league. They'd just wholesale shot up everything here, and if Ironsides didn't need a completely new astronavigation system Otto would be so very surprised. He didn't exactly have spares of that just lying around, either.

He sighed a bit, wilting under the weight of just how much this would cost, at least until Kirkley spoke up. Oh? Otto's mouth curved into a little frown, and he was about two seconds away from protesting the generosity before his common fucking sense hit him square on the nose. Because seriously, there was no way he'd get out of fixing Ironsides up without spending months on the Cancer just earning the replacement parts.

"I-- that is very appreciated, thank you," he said, finally, sliding back out of the rip in Ironsides... well, iron sides to look at the Captain, who was... wow, that was a lot of blood and bits on him. No amount of heady, chittering influence could get by the fact that there was literal brains on Kirkley's hands, even without the benefit of Otto's enhanced senses.

Still, it would be rude of him to let that color his appreciation any, and so Otto smiled up at the big guy, reaching out to tap his hand against a part of Kirkley's arm that wasn't covered in Gross. It was a testament to both Kirkley's size and the ferocity of their conflict that Otto was hard pressed to find a 'clean spot' at all.

"Do you have coffee? I'll make coffee." Honestly what Otto wanted was well beyond coffee strength, but shit. He'd take anything at that very moment.

Offline Cheesigator

Re: Thank You For Calling Tech Support [Cheesi!]
« Reply #13 on: November 20, 2017, 04:46:31 PM »
Kirkley felt another pang of sympathy while he watched Otto inspect the damages to his ship. He'd been there before with The Loveless countless times, it really did suck, especially when your ship was all that you had, and for Otto he had a feeling that might be the case.

But! His offer was accepted, which made Kirkley feel much better about the whole thing. He'd get to pay him back for helping him out of a tight spot, and also maybe leave him better off than he was when they first met once all this was over. Few upgrades to his ship maybe if he wanted, or whatever, he'd figure something out and it'd all be fine. Though it was hard to tell if the way Otto was looking at him was because he liked the look of Kirkley covered in sweat, blood and guts, or if it was a 'wow that's a lot of blood and guts' kinda look so he tried to brush it off for the most part, smirking and raising his eyebrows as the guy found the one spot on him not covered in gods knew what, which was on his bicep.

He flexed because he could and grinned at him. "Ah yeah I should have some coffee, up in the kitchen. We'll uh... I'll take care of the mess later." He nodded to the mushed aliens on the floor, grimaced a little as he got a refreshed look at the fierce destruction he'd wrought on the poor bastards, and quickly looked back at Otto with a smile and a nod of his head towards the door. "Come on."

He led the way through the lower level corridor of the ship, up to a flight of stairs that brought them out onto the main level with the ship's deck, and then up another flight of stairs on the opposite side that led them to the second floor. The kitchen was--in Kirkley's opinion--very smartly placed down a hallway, hop skip and jump from the medical bay, and he hung by in the doorway as he let Otto go in first.

"Coffee pot is on the counter by the fridge, grounds in the cabinet above it." He gestured with the least shot-up arm in the general direction of said items. "Help yourself, got real food in there not just nutrition bars, I'm gonna go... Clean up. And take care of these laser blast wounds." Yeah. Good idea, that. "If you need me I'm just down this hallway."

He had nodded his head to the hallway next to the kitchen that went further back but he had a feeling Otto could find him just fine on his own if he needed to--had a feeling it might have something to do with the little buzzy things he kept hearing. Not that it mattered; he seemed a good enough guy and had helped tremendously so far so Kirkley wasn't about to complain if that was the worst of him.

He headed off into the medical bay, finally allowing himself to swear under his breath because fuck getting shot never stopped hurting no matter how many times you suffered from it. His skin and the muscles beneath were still burning. Sure it'd heal up just fine eventually but it still sucked. He quickly busied himself with literally peeling out of his shirt, the fabric clinging to his damp skin, and in the key spot on his hip where the synthetic fibers had been melted and fused to his skin from the heat of the blast. Gross. He tossed it into the garbage, thinking he could probably just get away with washing his arms, but the more he looked at himself in the mirror the more he saw blood on his face and bits in his hair and yeah okay.

Shower it was.

He made it quick, ripping the bandages off from his first tussle and stepping in--it was big enough for two people in case a wounded person needed assistance, or, yknow, for other reasons--and he made a face as he watched the water turn pink and red as the blood and bits were washed off and went down the drain. Eugh. Kirkley always took quick showers when he was by himself, so he was only in there for maybe ten minutes trying to get all the gunk out. When he stepped out, the last thing he was expecting was company, and it took him a moment after he shook his head and got all his hair out of his face, quickly pulling it back into its ponytail to notice that he wasn't alone.

Well. Wasn't like he had anything worth hiding and it wasn't like he had anything Otto probably hadn't already seen before. Might as well not be awkward about it.

"Sorry, didn't realize I'd taken so long--coffee done already?" Yknow. Be casual. Thank gods the shower hadn't been too hot to help with the burns otherwise this could've been way stranger.

Or better. Depending on what kind of person Otto was. Hard to tell.

Offline nephero

Re: Thank You For Calling Tech Support [Cheesi!]
« Reply #14 on: November 20, 2017, 11:48:58 PM »
Being in the state that Otto was, he was capable of sensing a myriad of things. Subtle shifts in gravitational forces, changes in air quality and temperature, the imminent threat of real danger...

The telltale tension of muscle beneath bare skin. It wasn't exactly subtle, not with how Kirkley was grinning away the whole time, and Otto couldn't help a returning grin, chewing at his lip and almost forgetting about the fact that there were honest to gods alien corpses littering the cargo bay floor. Almost.

Shouldering the borrowed gun, Otto followed Kirkley out of the impromptu graveyard, stepping over shards of crates as they went. The place really would need a good cleaning, but that was for later. After some much needed relaxation. Or, in this case, a mild stimulant. If Kirkley really was going to insist on helping to pay for Ironsides' repairs, then maybe Otto could do the Loveless a similar service and get her scrubbed down. After all, she was a lovely soul, she deserved a little TLC after being coated in alien innards.

Hell, depending on how long it took them to get to the Cancer, he could probably treat her to a cleaning all over. Otto walked into the kitchen, reaching up to pull his hair back into a messy knot. A little more wiggling and he pulled the void suit down off of his upper half, the torso and arms of the suit hanging about his hips. It wasn't exactly high fashion, only a thin tshirt left between him and the cool filtered air, but it was better than trying to prepare any kind of beverage with little flecks of whatever on his suit. Otto hadn't gotten splashed nearly as badly as Kirkley, of course, but it wasn't exactly anything he wanted to risk getting in their coffees.

Following Kirkley's direction, Otto pulled the grounds down from the cabinet with a little nod. He didn't blame Kirkley for wanting to wash up; it was like looking at a big dog that had gotten into some garbage and rolled around all in it. Only even grosser.

"I will get the coffee going, then," he said as Kirkley turned to leave, already scooping out the grounds into the filter and pushing the designated buttons. It felt... odd, being in someone else's space like this without them present, but Otto reminded himself it was just a kitchen, and he was just making coffee. Still, the oddness did not abate, and it was some combination of that feeling as well as his continuing lack of an appetite that kept him from looking in the fridge. His boarders were less happy with this decision, of course, chittering and grumbling in a way that did not make him feel any hungrier, which was more than a little ironic.

Still, it didn't mean Otto really wanted to just sit there. Plus, Kirkley had gotten hit several times in that whole scuffle, maybe he could use help with that. Plus-plus, Otto really liked how his bicep had felt beneath his fingers. Maybe Kirkley could use help with that.

Priorities were priorities, and it was with two full mugs that Otto made his way down the hall, half-peeking in other doors until he finally found what he was looking for.

And who.

And hot damn.

It was actually kind of lucky that Kirkley had finished up right then, because Otto's skin crawled with compulsion the second he stepped into the medical bay, wondering just what kind of supplies might be around that he could perhaps, with permission, "borrow." Which was a terrible thought, considering Kirkley's continuing generosity, and so Otto was very glad for the distraction in the form of a very damp, very, very naked man vacating the showers.

Damn, but it had been a while. Otto couldn't even play like he hadn't noticed key additions, the metal a heavy contrast to criss-crossing scars and tattoos and deep, lovely skin. His eyes flicked down, lingering a little bit before climbing back up again, finally settling back on the other man's face. You know, like a person with manners did.

He chewed on his lip again, canines pricking into the skin just enough to get his focus back, holding out one of two mugs with a slow, easy smile.

"Did not know how you ah, took it. But yes, all ready. Nice and hot." Otto tilted his head a bit, shifting to lean against a nearby table, sipping at his own mug after blowing on the fluid to cool it some. Ugh, but god was some good strong coffee a relief. The caffeine content alone did wonders for his bones, little aches and pains from the elongated withdrawal evaporating almost immediately. Otto rolled his shoulders with a soft rattling noise of contentment, before taking another solid swig.

"How are your-- what is the word-- shit. Injuries? Did they get you badly?"

Offline Cheesigator

Re: Thank You For Calling Tech Support [Cheesi!]
« Reply #15 on: November 21, 2017, 12:39:39 AM »
Kirkley snagged a towel from where it hung on a rung by the wall once his hair was appropriately tamed, enough so at least to keep the majority of it out of his face, and he quickly tied said towel around his waist for Otto's sake more than anything, although... He definitely caught the lingering look, the movement of the man pulling his lower lip under his teeth and worrying at it. Aha.

That was all he needed to know, now he didn't feel so bad for looking the man over earlier; he'd tried to keep it brief so now he didn't bother taking him in a second time as he took the offered mug of coffee with a smile and a quiet "Thanks."

He took in the sight of Otto with his void suit around his waist, the t-shirt sitting nicely on his frame; he liked the slope of the man's shoulders, the slender curves of his torso; it played well with the features of his face, those full lips and the gorgeously haunting eyes that Kirkley found himself staring at when he spoke. He really was a beautiful man, he'd have to be blind not to notice it, just as he'd have to be deaf not to hear his accent. It was a bit strange; he felt like he recognized it, should've known where Otto came from based off of it probably because he'd been there before. But like so much else, it was muddled with other memories in his head and it'd probably be lost to him until he randomly woke up in the middle of the night and thought of it. So it goes.

"Ah," He glanced down at the scorched spots on his torso and arms where he'd been hit, shrugging as he took a sip of coffee and casually meandered over to stand easily within touching distance if Otto so wished it, droplets of water rolling down the slopes of his muscles from shoulders to the fuzzy white of the towel sitting on his hips.

"Been through worse. Should be healed in a day or two." He smirked at Otto then, nodding to where he'd left the salve out on one of the counters from prior to their meeting, along with bandages. "Could always use a spare hand though, if you wouldn't mind.~"

After all, it was rather tricky trying to put bandages on properly with only one hand available to you!

That and the mental image of Otto naked on his bed with all that black hair splayed out over the sheets, wrists pinned above his head? Yeah that was a mental image Kirkley really liked, and would be more than happy to attempt to achieve if Otto let him.

Offline nephero

Re: Thank You For Calling Tech Support [Cheesi!]
« Reply #16 on: November 23, 2017, 04:24:38 AM »
"Ah," Otto repeated, taking a sip of his own coffee as he leaned against the counter, one arm folded over his chest while the other kept his caffeine intake well within sipping range. It really did taste good. Far better than what he'd ever been used to, at any rate. Well, except for Haviah-bought blend. That had been the best, all dark notes and clean finish, almost sweet without having an ounce of sugar in it.

It was the closest to chocolate flavor he'd ever gotten without it being chocolate, and thus, requiring an epipen. That, and the boost in caffeine was easing his sour stomach. Well, as far as it was able to, considering Otto could still just smell the lingering speckles of blood on his own void suit. At least it was a mild inconvenience, easy to ignore, especially when there was all of Kirkley standing right there in front of him and dripping shower water like the goddamn epitome of heat there was.

"Fast recovery rate, then, I take it?" He said, tone lilting in a way that suggested he might not have been talking about Kirkley's impressive healing capabilities. "I know this feeling, little bumps and bruises do not take much. Little rest and all is good."

Otto shifted, traded the coffee mug between his hands, and set it down on the countertop with a little clink. In the same movement he picked up the container of salve, unscrewing the lid and breathing shallow as the medicated sting reached his nose. It was strong, and something like mint without being mint, edgier and more insistent. Cold, in comparison to the heat from but a few seconds ago.

"But if it helps, I am glad to lend a hand." Another entirely innocent lilt, and Otto dipped his index and middle finger into the goop, pulling out a liberal amount before looking up through his lashes, mouth quirked in a sly grin. "Show me where it hurts."

Offline Cheesigator

Re: Thank You For Calling Tech Support [Cheesi!]
« Reply #17 on: November 23, 2017, 01:29:49 PM »
Hah. Haaah.

Kirkley couldn't help the splitting grin that showed off his sharpened canines at Otto's suggestion.

"Ahh yeah, quite, actually." He rumbled, watching Otto's every movement with a sharp gaze, intensely curious about his body language and eager to learn everything he could, trying to soak up the view of him like a sponge.

The implication that Otto apparently recovered just as fast was even more promising than the smirk on his full lips. He really was too pretty, too handsome for his own good. He wondered briefly if he'd still get to finish this mission in a timely enough manner for Ain's liking, or if he was going to be as horrendously distracted throughout the entirety of it as he was now.

Did he really even need to ask?

He let his hips rest against the island counter in the middle of the med bay, settling his hands along the ledge of its top so he gave Otto plenty of space to work with, and of course plenty to admire even though that really couldn't be helped. There was just so much of him to look at, unfortunately.

"I wonder between the two of us who'd be the fastest to be up and at 'em again. We should definitely find out." His tone of voice was still playful, the grin still persistent as he nodded to his left shoulder, the first wound of today.

Next to it, in between his neck and deltoid was another blast mark, one of the fresher ones from the last encounter, similar to the one on his left hip, and the final one on his right bicep. The one thing he preferred about laser rifles to regular ones was that at least the blasts did a great job of frying nerve endings so while it burned and the edges stung like a bitch, you couldn't feel the majority of the tissue because it was cooked so thoroughly. Problematic for any other creature, but for him? Not so much.

"Well, this one's pretty bad, but," And he dropped his gaze from the look in Otto's eyes that sent a shiver up his spine to the one on his hip, partly obscured by the towel, and then back up to meet their gazes once more. "One on my hip could use some attention the most I think."

He nodded sagely as he considered his condition while he spoke, as if the matter was of absolute seriousness and it definitely definitely was. He needed the help and oh what would he ever do without dear Otto here right now? He just might not make it.

Offline nephero

Re: Thank You For Calling Tech Support [Cheesi!]
« Reply #18 on: November 23, 2017, 09:46:29 PM »
There was simply... no end to Kirkley. The man was massive, going on for miles, all taut skin and solid muscles and the loveliest mane of hair Otto had seen in some time. It just begged to be touched, though the Aedolian had the sense to keep his inhibitions in check and not just wholesale bury his hands in it.

He was pretty sure Kirkley would not appreciate getting salve in his hair so soon after a wash. Otto knew he wouldn't. And so he behaved himself, relatively speaking. With the danger long past, he was free to let his imagination roam wild, considering just how it would feel to grab onto Kirkley's hair and hang on for dear life while they put that little mystery to bed.


"It would be well worth finding out," Otto mused in return, mouth quirked in amusement at the idea of them finding out just how far each of them could go, "unless we get too distracted to keep watch on our course. Take even longer to get back. It would be quite the gamble. But, if you are a gambling sort..."

He let the sentence hang where it did, turning his attention downwards to the blast mark at Kirkley's hip. Oh, well, the Captain had a very valid point. The other impacts looked mean, for certain, but on the tender curve of skin that made up Kirkley's hip, well. That one just looked meaner. He touched the salve to the top edge, working it around in gentle circles, careful to keep from applying too much pressure and agitating the living nerves around the periphery. Otto glanced up, once, before he used his spare hand to gently roll down the towel, just enough to get the rest of the blast coated, giving a cursory layer to the ones on Kirkley's bicep and shoulder after.

He neglected, of course, to correct the towel any, rather playing at a bit of cheek and wiping his fingers off on the segment over Kirkley's outer thigh and certainly not complaining about how solid the limb felt even against minuscule pressure. The man was a downright tank, though that much should have already been obvious from the fact he had taken, what, three blasts to his torso without stopping?

"Looks like we caught it just in time. Any longer and I might have had to do emergency resuscitation." A pointed glance downwards, and Otto set the container of salve to the side, back beside his coffee on the counter top. "Unless you have other pains? Aches?"

Offline Cheesigator

Re: Thank You For Calling Tech Support [Cheesi!]
« Reply #19 on: November 23, 2017, 10:17:50 PM »
Mismatched eyes continued to follow Otto's every movement, utterly entranced by the flutter of his long, dark lashes and the fluidity of his lips as the words played off his mouth, dancing in the air with that lilting accent that made Kirkley's blood run just a little bit hotter.

It was a bit tricky, remembering to keep his breathing even and steady, because he was so caught up in just admiring the man before him and wondering what the rest of him looked like under those clothes, if he was as intriguing below the neck as he was above it. He certainly had a feeling he was and he definitely wanted to explore every inch of it.

He raised his eyebrows a titch as the man drew his gaze downward and it sent another little jolt of warmth through his belly right down south that made it hard to suppress a growl.

"Life is a gamble, made with right choices or mistakes, and even if this was a mistake it's one I'd still happily make without any regrets." He rumbled, his voice low, the look in his eyes darkening just a bit with the burning ember glow of that heat in their ivory-and-amber depths.

The other man's touch felt soothingly cool, on the parts of his skin where the nerve endings were still shrieking anyways, the rest of it he felt the hint of pressure but as far as temperature went, nothing. He wasn't bothered or alarmed by it; just another day, another wound to heal up and then he'd move on in life. More scars to cover old tattoos, that was just how it went.

His skin tingled as deft fingers rolled down the edge of the towel and his breath caught in his throat for the slightest moment, and then Otto moved on to the rest and Kirkley settled into acceptance with the softest growl, narrowing his eyes a bit as he continued to watch him. And then the excess was wiped off on his thigh, his eyebrows shooting up in amusement as the corners of his mouth quickly turned up in a sharp smirk.

"Oh, I was terrified. You've put all my fears to rest, except," He tilted his head to the other side, glancing down at his hips and then back up to meet Otto's light green gaze, "Y'know I'm having a hard time feeling anything from the hips down, couldn't even feel your fingers on my leg," Lies, "Perhaps I should ask you to help me do some further investigating? Could be something real serious."

So full of bullshit and yet the smirk and that playful tone of his voice all but gave it away as he didn't even bother trying to look serious about it. Otto could always say no if he wanted to, but... Probably wouldn't. Kirkley hoped he wouldn't.