Galatic Drift AKA Not another Multiplayer Intriguess Thread

[intriguess]

Setting Future

Space travel is a reality, intergalatic government is NOT, planets tend to have one governing body and if they don't travel to them is restricted, which made several planets get their act together as intergalatic trade is where the money is.

Mol woke up, the alarm was going off. The planet was in range and Mol had to respond to the landing procedure.

"Length of your stay and intention Trader Mol?"

"About a week, pick up supplies, partake of the local culture."

"Request authorized, prepare to land on pad 54 and enjoy your stay on Andromedos."

The connection was cut and Mol set down. Mol was an free trader, didn't work for any governing body. It was freedom and good business, Mol was planning a trip back to the homeworld as the mating urge was growing stronger.

 

[intriguess]

Mol

Mol stepped out onto the landing bay, locked the ship and set out to find supplies. Time was different in space so Mol had staved off the mating urge a long time. The last time Mol had gone to a little known pleasure trader and made the necessary arrangements. Mol had specifically selected a species that was not genetically compatible, which were rare these days as mixed breeds were more compatible.

Mol had looked over the potential on the planet just in case and figured if all else failed to select a mate that was already with child. Mol was adaptable, slightly empathic morphoid. Which means that when it came time to mate Mol would assume whatever organs that were necessary. Morphoids had an incredibly high fertility rate while they were in a mating cycle, and nearly sterile when not in heat. Which didn't mean much as sexual activity could trigger a mating cycle, Mol had avoided having children, until now the morphoid had not had the resources to take on a mate and the responsibilities of children.

The more Mol thought about it, the worse the mating urges got.

 

[SlickQuiver]

Arro

Arro was looking absent-mindedly out the windshield of his spaceship. He was lucky to have the ship, hardly anyone in the universe had their own private spaceship; they were usually reserved for intergalactic companies, or matters of intergalactic importance. He figured that his good looks must have had something to do with being assigned a class C spacecraft, or maybe him sleeping with the vehicle distribution agent had something to do with it...

He realized he hadn't been paying attention to where he was flying, it was a miracle he hadn't crashed at those high speeds. Now he was low on fuel. He had to land on the nearest planet to refuel. "Scanner, where is the nearest planet?"

"Nearest planet is 52 degrees west of here, at 20 000 km. Planet Andromedos."

I turned my ship west and went off, hoping I could make it.

 

[intriguess]

Mol

Mol forced thoughts back to the needing supplies trying to focus. It worked long enough for Mol to get a few supplies and then Mol went hunting. It was easy to find the pleasure district they were always near spaceports.

 

[ireofepiphany]

enter pirate chick, stage galactic north

The low hum of the ships engines nearly blanketed the sound of the klaxon, from where Cassandra was standing, alerting the crew of the converted frieghtliner of an incoming gravity spike, a yellow star, one of several thousand trillion in the galaxy, not to even bother the whole universe, in the whole it is probably a rather insignificant place, but to the 17 people on board the 'Mercury Shard' that... star, gravity spike, that klaxon was the single greatest thing in the universe. "Finally," Cassandra thought aloud to herself, "port, I will be able to bathe again." Finishing up repairs on the port engine array, sliding out from beneath it, the engine hum returned to it's normal ambience, but a new sounds covered that of the klaxon, the sounds of reveling crewmembers.

It was always busy when nearing port, but someone merely listening would assume the crew were throwing a party. Busy, because the crew of the 'Mercury Shard' were pirates, you can't just go gallivanting about patrolled space in a ship looking like a pirate vessel, and you can't go sacking ships looking like a civillian frieghter because, well it isn't 'cool' and... you just can't. The ship's brand has to have been burned off and re-applied more times than even an Corvi has fingers to count with. (trust me, it's alot)

Being the mechanic, Cassandra has to make sure the ship is within the specified parameters of the ship's initial design, in case customs or the local military decides to randomly inspect the ship. Besides these menial repairs, which always pained her to do, mostly for which because she saw them as downgrades to her workmanship, she had a long list of parts that she needed to aquire for various parts of the ship.

But all that can wait, first thing after customs, is a party. The captain is usually nice enough to treat the crew to a local bar and the whole lot gets shit-faced drunk within hours of landing.

After the insipid docking procedures the ships crew, minus two to guard the ship, filed out towards customs, most of the men and the other three women got through just fine, but this is the part where Cassandra always had problems. The bastards probably had a button under their little kiosk, but as she began through the terminal, as usual the 'random search' light came on, the customs agents grinning to themselves as they led the mechanic to the side. Cassandra was what most species would consider 'attractive', with raven hair, dark skin and green eyes Cassandra stood at 1.7 meters tall with a shoulder width waist, slender hips and a pair of breasts the size of large grapefruits (assuming of course your planet even has grapefruits). The agents would take turns frisking her for contraband before they came to the mutual conclusion that a strip search would be necessary.

Needless to say, by the time she got out of customs she had more than a desire to head to the nearest pleasure district and join the crew in their revelry, assuming she can even find the bar they were at.

 

[SlickQuiver]

I landed my ship, with only a few thousand kilometers left of fuel. Close one. I brought it to the nearest mechanic, and got the tank filled up. I also paid for a tune-up, so she told me to come back in a few hours to see how she was doing. I think she knew I was a traveller, so she told me I could go to the pleasure district if I wanted to kill a few hours. I thanked her, and went.

When I reached the district, I found a bar (or at least, I think it was a bar. I couldn't read the alien scripture over the door), and I entered. Inside were males and females of all alien races, comingling amongst themselves. I went up to the bar and ordered a drink.

 

[intriguess]

Mol

The sights sounds and smells of the pleasure district were all too familiar and Mol blocked out the unnecessary stimuli and headed for a drinking establishment. Mol knew how intoxicants worked to lower resistance and that it would be the best place to start.

Mol entered noticed the few who looked, those who stared, and those that outright ogled. The emotions of the place pounded in Mol's head which helped focus the search. Mol ordered a drink, not that it mattered with an extremely high metabolism alcohol had next to no effect on morphoids.

 

[SlickQuiver]

I saw as an attractive morphoid entered the bar. There are very few morphoids in my sector, I had never seen one, and it was true what they said: they were very sexy. Even so, I could still tell that this one was even more attractive than others of her species. Almost every other male in the bar turned their attention to her, hardly able to tear their eyes away from her or keep their tongues in their mouths. "Animals," I thought to myself as I turned myself back to my drink.

 

[ireofepiphany]

Cassandra

Wandering about the pleasure district, Cassandra looks for the familiar noise of her drunken shipmates. Hearing the familiar sounds of alcohol assisted revelry, she turns and enters the establishment where the familiar noise is coming from. Upon entering she gets many looks from patrons, and her companions noticing her entry go from loud to louder and summon her to their table.

A good fourth of them are already passed out, apparently they have been participating in some kind of drinking game. Rolling her eyes at the lot, no one can out-drink the captain, but they always seem to enjoy trying.

Giving the captain a nod of greeting, Cassandra moved over to the bar, and ordered bottle of something she was hoped was the local equivalent of whiskey, and was sure to sit in a stool empty on both sides.

(Just out of curiosity, what exactly does Mol look like, I assume from what you've written that Mol's is capable of changing it, but I don't even know the gender, presumable female given yours and slick's posts, or if they are androgenous)

 

[intriguess]

Mol

The emotional intensity of the bar, did not surprise Mol at all, nor did the fact that several recognized the morphoids abilities. Mol's skin was naturally pale, a lavender color that could fluctuate at any time. Mol had spikey dair hair that under most lights was an unusual blue black color. Gravity determined Mol's body and as this planet's gravity was slightly heavier than space standard it made Mol's body more dense. Most would describe Mol as stunningly beautiful for a man or a woman, with dark eyes, thick lashes, great cheekbones, and full lips. While in general Mol's build would be considered athletic Mol could alter appearance to suit others.

Mol took a long drink and cast an eye about the room searching for an appropriate target.

 

[SlickQuiver]

Arro

As the morphoid sat down to take a drink, I was surprised to find I couldn't keep my eyes off her. I had thought I was above those drooling morons, ogling any pretty face who entered the bar, but I still seemed strangely attracted to her. I finished off my drink, casually shifted myself next to her, ordered another drink, and turned to her.

"Hi, I'm Arro."

 

[intriguess]

Mol

My drink was paid for before I could drink it and with a smile and a sigh I watched and waited, wondering what fool would approach me. At the moment I noticed an interesting female at the bar, whose species I could not immediately identify and a male approaching me.

It was almost amusing that my endorphin level had risen to detectable levels and had already drawn him to me. I took another drink and politely responded, after all not everyone is entirely comfortable with a morphoids gender neutral status. "I am called Mol."

 

[SlickQuiver]

The morphoid seemed quite stiff and rigid. "Well, hello Mol. What brings you to here?" I said, eying her. I was surprised to find myself growing more and more attracted to her.

 

[ireofepiphany]

Cassandra

From their noisy corner of the barroom, Cassandra overheard her shipmates start the second phase of their game, consisting of a dare followed by large amounts of betting. Thinking to herself, "this could get ugly," as she turned to watch her shipmates. Mid turn however, something caught her gaze, a lavender skinned humanoid, she had read of such beings, Morphoids they were called. The texts she had read as a child did not do these beings the justice they deserved, for to merely call them beautiful was a drastic understatement.

Several seconds later, Cassandra realized she was staring and turned, abruptly, towards her crew mates, hoping that she hadn't drawn to much attention to her obvious ogling. Still, the Morphoid was constantly on her mind, although it would seem that the exotic beauty was already the object of another's desire, as she realized the man sitting beside her was probably making a pass.

 

[intriguess]

Mol

The male was potentially interesting but at the same time she sensed another strong interest from a young female across the room. Mol would simply focus on him for the moment. It was the problem with a place like this was the amount of emotional intensity and stupidity all laced with varying amounts of alcohol.

My body slowly relaxed as I stopped trying to hold it all in and I looked the man over again. He had asked some inane question, that undoubtedly was the norm, then again it had been a while since I'd frequented such an establishment. "Supplies mainly, this place attracts quite a wide range of traffickers."

 

[SlickQuiver]

I could see her eyes roaming the room, not fully paying attention to me. I could sense her losing interest in me, and paying attention to a female across the room. She seemed quite serious, very tense. "Same with me. My ship ran out of fuel, I stopped in for a fill-up."

OOC: I'm going away for the next week for March Break. I won't be back until next Saturday. Sorry. You can go on without me if you want, I guess.

 

[intriguess]

His interest was almost too strong, Mol wasn't quite sure if he really knew what he was getting in to. For some reason the silent curiousity of the female across the room seemed preferably at the moment. Mol thanked him for his interest, "Yes filling the time on planet can be quite tedious. If you'll excuse me I see someone I know." Mol finished off the drink and drifted out of sight. As Mol neared the restrooms the strain of emotions lessoned as thoughts focused on other urges.

 

[ireofepiphany]

Cassandra

Thoughts drifting in and out of her head as they usually do, some regarding the ship, some her crew, but most keep placing her focus squarely on the lavender skinned Morphoid. Raising her glass as she sipped her drink some, she casually glanced at the barstool where she previously sat, only to see the male who had been previously talking to her sitting alone with a look of disappointment on his face. As her stomach fluttered with a sense of joy, or at least she assumed, her fingers fluttered along with it and spilled the alcoholic contents of her glass down her front. "Shot down," she thought to herself referring to the man's situation, "but... where did she.. he.. it.. the Morphoid go." Possibilities raced their way throughout her thoughts for several seconds before she realized she had spilled her drink. "Fuck," she said aloud, "now I smell like I'm drunk but I've barely had half a glass," she muttered to herself as she headed towards the restrooms to clean herself off.

 

[intriguess]

Mol

The restroom were unique, normally they followed gendered lines as if there was something wrong about using the same facilities when in fact in most private residences there was only one restroom. The bar had gone the tact that given the nature of alcohol and high libido generated that seperate facilities were unnecessary.

Therefore there was one big restroom, after opening the door there was a hall, then it opened on a lounge area where several people were enjoying a minimum of privacy. Mol continued past the room and into the facilities, it was quite elaborate, fountains of fresh water alongside fancy cleansing products.

Mol trailed fingers in the water, enjoying the moderate temperature, then sensed someone of interest entering.

 

[ireofepiphany]

Cassandra

Tossing her coat on to a couch as she went through the lounge connected to the restroom, Having no shame, being accustomed to life aboard a small ship, she pulled off her shirt as she walked into the restroom, letting her breasts hang free of its tight clinging fabric. Upon entering she stopped for but a moment as she noticed the lavender skinned beauty, quickly heading to the fountains of water, hoping to not make her desire at the very least blatantly obvious, although it's probably too late. Nonchalantly she begins to soak her shirt in the water, ringing it out on occasion, trying to rinse the majority of the alcohol out of it.

 

[Maka]

Chase, pirate captain

The crew were settling into drinking steadily now. Chase, as usual, drank with a purpose; to keep the buzzing thoughts of others at bay. It was his most closely-kept secret -and he had many secrets: Chase was a psychic. On some planets, his kind were burned as witches.

It came in helpful in the darkness of deep space -his miraculous ability to pinpoint weaknesses in enemy ships, his 'hunches' and 'lucky guesses' that led to the capture of wealthy marks -it had all gotten Chase a name as one of the greatest pirates of space at only twenty nine.

He watched his mechanic, Cassandra, at the bar across the room, spill her drink and get to her feet. He sensed strong waves of desire from her, directed at someone elsewhere in the bar. Chase looked down. He tried not to intrude on the privacy of his crew's thoughts, particularly since they weren't aware he could do so. Conscious of indulging himself in a guilty pleasure, he looked up and watched her walk across the room to the restroom.

Chase was a tall man, leanly muscular with intense green eyes. His silver hair was cut like a spiky halo around his head -the mode of some distant world's counterculture movement.

 

[SlickQuiver]

She stood up and walked away from the bar. I sighed in disappointment. Was she playing hard to get, or just not interested? I finished my drink, and stood up, walking into the crowd.

 

[UNREGISTERED]

* * *

 

[SlickQuiver]

I decided to give up on the Morphoid. She clearly wasn't interested. Not to mention I couldn't even get to her in the women's washroom. I went to the bar, and noticed someone had already taken my seat. I walked up behind the female. "You can't leave your seat for a second here, can you?" I laughed.

 

[Maka]

Chase started up, a shot of someone else's pain moving through his head almost too fast to register. He looked across the bar to its source, and then frowned and narrowed his eyes.

He could have sworn it was the blackclad, red-haired Vanshiran the traveller was talking to, but her mind now was totally opaque; a psychic blank he couldn't read. And then, there it was again; that stab of unbearable grief and pain, despite her expressionless face.

He frowned.