• Content count

  • Joined

  • Last visited


About Balcerzak

  • Rank
  • Birthday 04/23/1983

Profile Information

  • Gender
  • Location
    Eden Prairie

Previous Fields

  • Favorite Fire Emblem Game
    Blazing Sword

Member Badge

  • Members
  • Staff

Recent Profile Visitors

15834 profile views
  1. So they were going to have to run a gauntlet, huh? That's the way things looked after everything had finished getting packed and they'd exited the inn. Mina wasn't exactly thrilled about fighting humans... not that she'd been thrilled about fighting vampires previously either... Still there was little to be done. Heading straight down the lane, she fired off a couple warning shots, "Stay back!" Mina to (11,7), lightning town guard 2
  2. One stiff drink had left Wilhelmina feeling rather good, especially when she had a little less blow flowing to dilute it. Tempted though she'd been to indulge in another, she knew she ought not, and had instead retired to the room she was to share with Alex, whenever she returned. For a while she amused herself at playing with the lock on the door, a very simple thing, unlikely to keep anyone out were they even halfway serious, so she didn't even bother engaging it when they finally lay down for the evening. Instead, she went back to drawing up lessons for Almira, and further, to whatever limited research she could do on vampires with the few resources she'd brought. When it finally came time to sleep, it took her hard and unforgiving. Finding herself rocked awake, she sat up, in the same nightgown she had lent Astrid just before, trying her best to ignore the flights of fancies that told her that despite the washing it had been given, she could still smell the countess's scent upon it. What an unpleasant thought to have immediately upon waking. Well, unfortunately for Mina, there was more bad news down the pipe. "Pack our stuff?" She echoed briefly, not yet fully come to grasp the situation, but then seeing Misea standing outside the door, still ajar, a look of frustration upon her... his face, and Glen behind him with weapon drawn, there were only so many conclusion to be drawn. "We're being run out the town then, is it? Very well. Let me be quick with that, and then help you with any straps or buckles that still need doing. I'm not sure how exactly all that armor works, and wouldn't be caught dead trying to lug myself around in it, but you showed it off rather well the other night, so... whatever keeps us all in the best of shape."
  3. Naimanzuunnadintsetseg had accepted the decision to travel to the Medeina, Alain's informant had cemented the choice. But she could not help but have some misgivings. Misgivings which unfortunately bore fruit sooner than later. Surrounded, outnumbered, and once again causing understandable agitation merely by the fact of their consorting with underworldly summons--Alain's minions had, despite her doubts, proven repeatedly useful, but were certainly a double-edged sword. The situation looked grim, and deferring to her earlier stated concerns, that she might inflame matters further upon being recognized, the plainswoman opted to take a back seat during the initial stages of negotiation. That choice was perhaps a mistake. Astaroth proved himself poor at reading the mood, and offered repeated offense, with one slight added on the next. A dark thought crossed her mind for a moment, a vision of herself stepping forward and silencing him in the middle of his next ill-conceived attempt at defusing the situation by slitting his throat, but Naimanzuunnadintsetseg forced herself to dismiss the notion. While it may bring a brief satisfaction, it would do nothing to resolve the current powderkeg. 'So that is how you deal with your allies? What a convincing argument to join with you. Archers, loose your arrows.' She could hear the taunting jeers in her head without any effort at all. There was however, no point in waiting further. The princess had dropped the name of her clan, and it had not provoked... well, not worse than anything else that had been said at least. Stepping forward, she pulled upon the insult levied at her, trying to turn it into strength. "It is true, I am desperate. Have been ever since I returned from hunt to find Malaphar had destroyed my clan, nearly to the man. But I am not so desperate as to pick reckless fights. I advised against intruding on your lands, specifically because the history between our tribes, but our hands were tied as our quarry was scented in this direction. You say you recently chased off another with monsters doing his bidding? Surely that was him. If he is no longer in your lands, we have no need to be either. We shall leave without a fight, but if you are intent to kill us, we will not die for free. There is no need to make any widows today."
  4. Super Robot Wars ∀: Deep Space IC Thread - Part 3: Crisis Point

    An alien? The way Cheryl emphasized the statement, it was clear this was alien with a capital A, the outer space kind, not just some jerk overstaying their visa. Or at least, that's the doctor believed she had seen. Jess couldn't help but narrow her eye, wincing a little as the muscles in the ruined one attempted to do the same thing on their end, to which the only result was soreness and ache. Cursed symmetry. Eventually, she'd been assured--provided she continued to turn down a prosthetic--such occurrences would no longer be an issue, either because the healing process had finished, or she'd have developed the habits necessary to avoid it. Probably a combination of both. "You're not exactly making a convincing case, Cheryl..." Jess's tone conveyed her doubt. But part of her was curious, and couldn't believe that in the middle of a battle, the psychologist was busy getting sloshed. Stepping over to the counter to help her out, she opened a drawer and pulled out a knife, beginning to pare some of the fat around the edges of the steak, then began to lightly season it and put it on the stove. A proper grill would have been best, but this should still do just fine. "If aliens are real, why is this the first we've heard of them?" (Couch time, Jess sesh) (Your mission, should you choose to accept it)
  5. Super Robot Wars ∀: Deep Space IC Thread - Part 3: Crisis Point

    The robots had ushered the prisoner in--accompanied by the captain, already engaged in some interrogation--and towards one of the beds that Monty had waved them at. "Alright, alright, this'll sting some, but don't struggle and let me get some work done. Right now your life hangs on me, not those Bismarck chaps," the doctor played things up a bit for the captive, though depending on how badly the glass had done him, maybe not too much up. It was time to take a look see. A light antiseptic spray first, then an anesthetic one. Turning to the closer android--mm, that one was Jessica, right--Monty had a slight request. "I'll be removing the foreign objects from his arm now, which will require some degree of precision. Pain shouldn't be an issue, but sometimes when a patient watches, they get antsy even if they can't feel it. Or maybe because they can't. Either way, if he's unable to remain still, please restrain him." Obviously, he'd prefer the prisoner remain compliant of his own accord, but it was best to be prepared. It was about that time that Firmia had to take a call, stepping out into the hallway for what privacy that offered her. Huh, well, let's not look a gift horse in the mouth then. Without there being any worry now of someone trying to be a backseat medic, there was considerably less pressure, and Monty could relax and work this at his own pace. As he worked, he slipped into humming a little bit, just some snatches of a little thing he'd been working on, nothing anyone would recognize. "Ah, I'm sure you'll be doing plenty of sleeping afterwards, even if you can't be now," the doctor absently addressed the patient. "Body does some of its best work while there's nobody at the helm, so don't fight it." A sidelong glance to the hallway, and he added. "I'll try to impress on her the importance, so she doesn't keep you up all night, wringing you for answers. Best I can do." Well, that wasn't entirely true, there were some pills that would knock him out like a light, regardless of Firmia's desire for interrogation. But Monty was optimistic enough to believe that wouldn't be necessary.
  6. Super Robot Wars ∀: Deep Space IC Thread - Part 3: Crisis Point

    A pair of new distractions jockeyed for Abigail's attention, simultaneously welcome and unwelcome. The first was when Alphonse looked like he'd been about to give her a disapproving glare. She would be hard pressed to deny having earned such a thing, what with her open disdain of the man, coupled with the fact that he probably considered her to be 'sullying his goddess' just by dating her--let alone if he'd known what exactly they'd been getting up to. But as Jessica continued to express her dissatisfaction with the way he'd handled things, good intentions or not, the admiral seemed to deflate a bit and engaged a strategic withdrawal. Good, one less person judging her. As for the other... Abby grit her teeth and shot daggers at the lieutenant. Just where did she get off, laying out a lecture like that? Bitch must still be back at the beach. Tempting though it was to repay the favor Kim had shown her then, now was not the time for sucker punches. "You don't know me," she spat out. "You've never known me, and you never cared to try. Easier for you to just snoop around people's thoughts and make assumptions, I guess. But seriously? If I needed to be threatened, to do the right thing, then you'd be a piss poor person for actually trusting those threats to work, instead of making sure to drive me away regardless. So why don't you go fuck yourself, eh?" Turning on her heel, she flipped Seung-Min the bird as she stormed into Jess's room, slamming the door behind her for emphasis. It felt good, having something to channel righteous fury at. Helped burn away the cobwebs. But once the anger's fuel was spent, Abigail found worry and doubt creeping back in to the empty places it had left behind. Sure, she talked big. But could she deliver? Clambering onto Jess's big bed from the side, passing by its owner, who'd taken up position at its foot, Abby crawled her way to the center of it, then quickly turned around, pulled her knees to her chest and hugged them. Squeezing her eyes shut and taking a few deep breaths in and out, she sought to center herself, get prepared. Opening them again, she scooted closer to Jessica, who'd turned to face her, then held out her arms in a manner that made it pretty clear she was looking for a hug.
  7. Super Robot Wars ∀: Deep Space IC Thread - Part 3: Crisis Point

    Brant had to call in to check, apparently not confident enough to just take the compromise as is, which was a little odd to him. If the Regalia got the job done, with or without Chris, the job was still done, no? Whatever though, there were other more important things to worry about. Namely the steadily increasing friction between Brant and Tarquin. Thorvald had been more focused on trying to hit upon a solution, but unwittingly, leaving the boy's harsh words unchecked may have simply begun to brew up another problem. A man's work was never truly done, was it? Thankfully the lieutenant kept himself together, and actually had some good advice to be passed along. 'If that's not enough then talk to her." A suggested path of action that was a little like looking in a mirror. It remained to be seen whether Tarquin would take him up on the suggestion, but he was cautiously hopeful. The little sprout had certainly done a lot of growing since Thorvald's first encounter with him, most of it in the right directions. Back then, he'd seemed to disdain the idea of family, friends, 'distractions'. But now there was genuine human interest in others, and if connecting with Nina helped him along that path while at the same time as helping the clone to grow and adjust herself, then Thorvald was all for that. Tackling Firmia... could wait till later though, if need be. The Russian seemed to be quite the complicated piece of work, not an ideal challenge for a novice. Speaking of the devil, she didn't seem as thrilled by his suggested compromise as he'd anticipated, so clearly he'd missed one or another underlying cause that was bothering her about the situation. Chris however was sold, hook line and sinker, though she did have to toss back a parting shot about the aliens, really needing to get that last word in. Thorvald shrugged, not bothering to fire back, but unable to keep from critiquing it internally. 'Can they even breathe our air properly?' That's your argument? This isn't some H.G. Wells piece, any race intelligent enough to navigate the stars would also be smart enough to make sure they were well informed about where they went visiting... or conquering. Apotheosis had seemingly been in contact with no obvious ill effects, barring of course the obvious shining lance of light at the end there, so as far as he was concerned, medical examination would be purely a curiosity affair, not a necessary one. Finally, the Avalon's captain came to her decision. She sounded a little disgusted, but grudgingly let things go, seemingly not even interested in taking the offered olive branch. Is she worried about feeling like she would owe me something if she did? Yes, it was true they could handle the salvage on their own, but... Thorvald sighed a little. "Back to doing whatever I'm supposed to be doing, huh," he gave Brant a bit of a wry look before the other pilot hurried back up to his cockpit. He stood there a few moments longer, with his hands on his hips, before turning to Tarquin. "I won't pretend to know just what all of that was about," he began, "But I hope you feel better having gotten that off of your chest. Probably not the ideal way to have handled things, but looks like things're working out." Taking in a deep breath, Thorvald came to a decision, nodded, and finished with, "I'll leave Nina in your and Chris's hands then, I'll trust you'll get everything squared away. I've got to get back to keeping my promises and helping out friends." With a wink and a wave of his hand, the squad leader made his way back to his machine. He'd be a bit behind Brant in taking off, in all likelihood, and given their craft's relative speeds, even further behind when they got to the wreckage, but he'd be damned if he didn't chip in and do what he'd said he would. When his communicator when off, he flinched a little, worried perhaps the incoming message would put that resolve to naught, but standing at the base of the Odin and reading through it, there was no such danger. Jessica recognized there was a lot of fallout, even after successfully repelling Apotheosis from Central, and truth be told, she must be dealing with a lot personally. So the standard debrief would be suitably delayed, and there wouldn't be any problems with his taking a little outing. Hmm, though, this actually raises a good set of questions. What exactly did he think about this latest surprising development. Something to think about while he worked.
  8. Super Robot Wars ∀: Deep Space IC Thread - Part 3: Crisis Point

    Alphonse started to protest, to explain himself, and at least he seemed like maybe he was gonna cut the bullshit and be honest. Always hard to tell, with his type. Probably wouldn't have made a difference, Abigail was pretty worked up, but as circumstance would have it, the two of them never got to find out. Jessica must have heard them, and opened her door, interrupting and changing the whole focus of everything. That's not to say she was disappointed with how things went. Seeing her girlfriend take full charge, and actually turn on the ANF was just about enough to make Abby want to drop everything and kiss her, but the thought that that might keep Jess from continuing to kick ass was enough to put that idea on hold. That and... the arm, yeesh, that really did look pretty bad. The way the conversation was turning was also a little worrying. Abigail stepped back from the two just enough not to interfere with the chokehold and put her hands on her hips, watching, listening. When the lieutenant rushed over, she just raised a hand, putting one finger up and twisting her wrist back and forth. Nope, not letting you shut this down, there is shit that needs to be said. Granted, she wasn't really making head or tails of some of it. Who the fuck was Dr. Gaertner, or her daughter, and why did Alphonse think Jess was some dead girl? Integrating with the ship's computers also sounded pretty dodgey, this whole thing was veering toward downright loony. No, the admiral was talking like not only would she integrate with, but that Jess was the Riese's computer. Hefty squint, pursed lips. But how though...? The captain was, uh, putting it delicately, soft in all the places she was supposed to be soft, and quite fully functional in all sorts of areas a machine would have no business replicating. Something Jess said though, thankfully provided an avenue of escape for a mind desperately seeking one. Abigail'd never told her she didn't believe Tristan's claim, and she'd been too busy to answer Jess's response to her text until it was obvious that it would just be better to go and meet her anyways. Which meant... either she was psychic, because it was certainly true that Abby definitely hadn't believed in that hogwash... But, even with the little tiff about TKs the other day, that explanation wouldn't fit with all the other times, where Abby'd be thinking or feeling something and she'd have been able to tap in. Or... somehow Jess had misinterpreted the message she'd sent. Even though she'd typed it up quite clearly. Omigod, Jess can't read. For some reason the conclusion she arrived at was absolutely hilarious to her. Abigail couldn't help but laugh. Jess was a fucking dead girl emoji illiterate in a robot body in GC 251!~ Abby was a fucking necrorobophiliac dating a dinosaur. And listening to Alphonse go on and on like this just made her laugh more. "Are you hearing him? Hearing this?" Between the raw facts and plain language crept in a sort of awe to his voice, a reverence, almost hero worship. Rather than an admiral of the fucking ANF it was like she was face to face with some Make-A-Wish kid getting their last request granted. And after getting squeezed about the throat, no less! "I can't believe it!" I can't bring myself to believe it. "I wonder if he'd lick your boots if you asked him to?" Why, why, what does it mean? Quietly, between the laughter, a nagging thought pressed her mind. I can't run from this. What happens next? What do I do?
  9. Naimanzuunnadintsetseg had spent a night of fitful, uneasy sleep, marred by nightmares. Not all of her dreams had been bad, but enough had to sour the whole experience. The worst had long past when she'd reached that bizarre haze of a slow, natural waking, where the mind flitted between several unconnected fragments of memory, still swept up in a dreamstate but with much more of reality splashed in. Today's offerings featured her talk with the princess leading into her first successful raid, this then rudely interrupted by the disaster that was her wedding which was somehow saved by her chat with Alain. Only temporarily, though before she relived her first failed battle and the messy retreat that followed, and then hot on the heels of that came that last hunting mission she'd led, and finally her meeting with Sylvia. Finally having had enough of the past lazily rolling in one after the other, the plainswoman pushed her eyelids up, then pushed herself off the ground. Even the best of healing was never perfect. While great credit was due to Sebastian, as Naimanzuunnadintsetseg still lived and breathed--and even more, she mercifully found that things had indeed been fortunate enough that her face was unscarred--in the midst of her morning routines, she had discovered a small patch of flesh on one of her shoulderblades that felt almost like a slightly twisted spiderweb, rising up from its surroundings. It didn't impair her movement, nor would it be obvious under ordinary circumstances, but it seemed she would forever carry a grim reminder of what happened when one let their guard down for even an instant against magic. Considerably more coherent than when she'd been carried there last night, she learned of the clutch negotiating that had brought an end to their most recent fight, as well as the darker troubles that still loomed over their heads--heralded by one who had lost his. They were weighty matters for consideration, but a journey waits for none, and so they were on the road again before Naimanzuunnadintsetseg had fully digested everything. It seemed she was not the only one, still chewing things over, as the warrior Aurelio mused aloud about that fool fountain story as they had stopped at a fork in the road, while the rest of them were inspecting the area and deciding which path to take. Personally, the plainswoman ill-liked all choices. Shaking her head, Naimanzuunnadintsetseg did her best to put her thoughts together in a way that would be easy to explain, and simple to swallow. "While the Asarai were too far away to even be considered worth the effort, my tribe did at times war against both the Medeina and the Iitschi." She closed her eyes, remembering one scene in particular involving some defeated Mediena. While she and her people hadn't done anything that wouldn't have been done to them if they had been on the losing end of a raid instead, and while everyone living in Magonsaete was fully aware of the law of the plains, she couldn't help but feel there was a better way. Dispelling old demons, Naimanzuunnadintsetseg came back to the present. Opening her eyes again, she added to the conversation. "I cannot speak with any certainty where this emissary of Malaphar's might be, but my opinion is that the Medeina might be more receptive toward a promise of power. Though fearsome in their own right, compared to the Iitschi they were always the easier target of the two." Pressing her lips into a thin line, she continued, "While I am hesitant to agree to a suggestion where we all head north, and out of our way, when it should be simple enough for Astaroth to dispatch his loyal pair of reliable retainers to inform the others and direct them to converge and meet with us at another location, it it hard to fully deny the specter of doom Alain has raised. And returning home to find it destroyed and devoid of kith and kin is something I would wish on no man," she turned a sympathetic gaze to the other chieftain. "Even so, I would prefer to press on elsewhere... though that may not be possible. Of the remaining two... both will certainly recognize my face. We were never quite as successful in our efforts against the Iitschi, so I suspect they would hate me less, but it is hard to say for certain." A pause, and she continued, "...Some appeasement may be demanded of me regardless, whichever of the two we decide to entreat." It was far from a firm endorsement, and it wasn't meant to be. For the moment, this was simply the information sharing step, and all three ways held some merit, in her eyes. It would be unjust to deny it and plead otherwise. If this Emmet was really being sent to court those who might be willing to bend a knee to Malaphar, it felt more likely to her that he would be at Mediena. To seek new allies a little less likely to slam the door in her face over the happenings of past, they should try the Iitschi. But to be sure to prevent a repeat of the disaster that befell the Ulagan... perhaps they really should go to save the Asarai personally, lost time to travel be damned. If Alain's foul minion came up with new information, that might make the decision for them. If not, they would have to decide which option seemed least likely to betray them. (Many Questions)
  10. Raven Recruited as News Editor

    Welcome aboard, Raven.
  11. Super Robot Wars ∀: Deep Space IC Thread - Part 3: Crisis Point

    "No trouble is my favorite trouble," Monty assured Sasha. "Those droids are doing good work. Thanks for the update." It was pleasant to hear his work seemed like it would be on the lighter side, but then again, appearances sometimes deceive. Hot on the heels of his conversation with number two, though, came a frequency from the robot ushers in question. Having a little more time with the prisoner, they had more time for observation, and passed more in the way of details: warning him that the main thing on his plate would be lacerations from broken glass. Provided there was no arterial damage, that meant wounds that were nasty looking, but not life-threatening. "Appreciate the report, doll," he offered back instinctively, before realizing the casual term of endearment might take on a double meaning to the artificially endowed. Hastily correcting himself, Monty changed pace slightly. "Err, I mean... keep up the good work, darling. I'll get those patched up just as soon as you get him here, then run some internals, don't worry." The nurse claimed she had things under control, and well, that meant she probably did. Jess attempted a weak smile, as concern was expressed for her injuries, but it seemed only perfunctory, as the woman's mind was clearly elsewhere. A Val on a mission. As the other swiftly escaped into the hallway with her cookies and cocoa, the sergeant found herself alone again. But not for long. In waltzed the psychiatrist to the picture, an odd picture of glee and excitement, especially strange considering the battle raging outside. Unless it had just ended in victory, perhaps? Still, the use of her full given name ruffled Jess the wrong way, and she gave the woman a bit of a pointed stare, which maybe was missed as Dr. Hart moved straight away to the stovetop. Technically since she wasn't on the clock she wasn't being paid to listen, but did she really have to be so self-absorbed? Her next words, just added to the bizarre. And with the almost sing-song delivery, there were very few explanations. "...Cheryl," remembering the woman had preferred a first name basis outside of the office, Jess obliged her, "Are you... drunk?" If she was, letting her near an open flame was dangerous. She stood up from her seat, and made her way over to the other woman, skeptical and planning to intervene. Oh for the love of... Her slight tangle with Buck left Abigail a little on the heels of one of the high and mighty ANF top brass, apparently incredibly eager to get up to meeting room to debrief. No way in hell she was getting on an elevator with him. When he broke left, she broke right, thanking the ship's designers for small mercies in how the banks of lifts had been set up. Unfortunately, her gratitude was short-lived, as exiting the tube on the bottom floor of the Riese and making it back to the central hallway, she found herself still behind the man. The fuck? Then it clicked. He had to also be heading exactly where she was heading. Abby grew livid. Who tipped him off where Jess had gone too? What other shit had they told him? ...It was Roxanna, wasn't it? Family favors being passed back and forth, no doubt. So spying on the captain was the compensation for getting her cushy XO spot on this top of the line model, huh? Disgusting. Her fists curled into balls, as her mind raced down dangerous passageways of fearful imagination. Real family were the ones you bonded to by choice, not whoever you'd been stuck with by blood. Screw that noise. Quickening her pace to catch up, or overtake him, Abigail frustratingly found that without breaking into an actual run it seemed impossible to do either. There was no matching his length of stride, and he was also in some exceptional hurry. That couldn't bode well. Should she run? That would certainly alert him to her presence, but even if she caught him, what then? Her brain was still wrestling with the issue by the time he pulled up to a stop in front of the captain's door and, knocking, requested an audience. Nope, not gonna let it happen. Abby didn't know what he wanted with Jess, but it couldn't be good. With the ANF, it never was. Hurrying the last dozen steps, she grabbed for his hand before he thought better about waiting for a response and decided he was going to put it on the knob and open up anyway. "Look, I don't care just who you think you are, but she was just assaulted in a way I doubt she ever expected to be. And after putting her life on the line to save your crusty ass, and the rest of the rotten core that makes up Central. So I don't care if you're gonna berate her over perceived mistakes, or commend her for a job well done. Why don't you just stow it for now, let her be with who she wants to be; just buzz off and come back later. Go, I dunno, fantasize new ways to get the balance of oppression right, to squeeze the next colony just hard enough that they won't think about revolting, so you don't have to threaten to blow them out of the sky. Or better yet don't, but Lord knows that's all you're good for."
  12. Super Robot Wars ∀: Deep Space IC Thread - Part 3: Crisis Point

    As Chris latched on to a particularly narrow section of his phrasing, starting to work herself into a froth over it, Thorvald sighed. She was way off base, too. He did have a say in this, the most important one in fact. While hopefully it wouldn't come to it, in the wake of Tarquin's little adventure earlier, Jess had implemented some additional restrictions on obtaining launch authorization. Originally it had been himself and Brant, with the clearance needed to approve unscheduled takeoffs, but after the Regalia team was making their new home on the Avalon, she hadn't got around to assigning a replacement for that missing link, essentially leaving Thorvald with sole say, unless they went right up the chain of command to the XO or the captain herself. Luckily, Abrams stepped in and cut her off before she could really bring things to a head, but it was unfortunate he was still pressing the issue. Giving the man a bit of an et tu, Bruto look, Thorvald shook his head slightly at the explanation. It wasn't wholly without merit, but it just, wasn't really good enough either. Chris chiming in with some comments she thought were helpful also undermined a bit of what he was trying to say as well. "If your doc's got Carlos on their hands too, then I would reckon he'd be just as busy with that as Megumi would with her," he nodded at the clone in question. "For all your argument about aliens this and androids that, none of those are actually a medical concern right now." Thorvald gestured to the entirely uninjured alien just a ways over in the hangar, clearly in no need of a doctor's attention. He figured both of them had enough experience with Hannah he wouldn't have to elaborate on that half of the equation. "I'm sure she'll want to take a peek eventually, but I trust her to know priorities." "And, if what I know of Firmia is on point, I can't imagine her approving of just handwaving protocol over an artificial deadline. Wasn't she always on Jessica's ass about being too lax on just these kinds of things? I'll meet you in the middle though, Chris. I'll go help Brant play scavenger in your place, and after delivering the scrap on the Avalon go have a talk with her." It was something he'd always meant to do, after all, and with excuses being thrown at him, there was no reason to dodge it. "I'm sure he won't need you in the backseat for this, so you can stay here with your sister and there shouldn't be any problems. Hell, if I'm using the Odin to help pick up things, I'm sure she'll get a better haul anyway. It'd be the sort of thing she couldn't say no to, right?"
  13. Super Robot Wars ∀: Deep Space IC Thread - Part 3: Crisis Point

    What the hell. "Stop right there, both of you," Thorvald called out, beginning to get a little frustrated at Chris's rather flagrant disregard of his previous statements. "Look, I get family. I know how you can get worried and concerned and want to do all kinds of crazy and stupid things because you love them. But I need you to look me in the eye and tell me you think we're going to mistreat her here, or you don't have a leg to stand on. Hell, you're more than welcome to stay by her side every step of the way, if for some reason you can't trust me or the doctor or the captain. But we have protocols in place, and they're put there for a reason. So I'm gonna need you to take a deep breath, find yourself some calm, and stop the huster and bluster."
  14. Super Robot Wars ∀: Deep Space IC Thread - Part 3: Crisis Point

    "Whoa, whoa, whoa," Thorvald turned to the latest, breathless arrivals. "Nobody's taking anyone anywhere, just yet. Gotta make sure she's all right physically first, I did just bang up her ride pretty good, despite my best efforts, and sometimes trauma isn't immediately apparent. First line of business ought to be getting her up to the doc. Tarquin was just having a little chat while I was going over some of the circumstances with Avery, who got up there before I managed." There was also the fact that the captain would undoubtedly want to see her... provided she was doing well enough for that after what Tristan had reported from the bridge. Thorvald was still a little fuzzy on those details, having focused more on keeping together solid leadership on the field while the XO and ensign did their parts where they needed. Part of him wanted to add, 'Are you sure she'd even want to go with you,' but as a captive, that wasn't particularly the most relevant objection at the moment either.
  15. Super Robot Wars ∀: Deep Space IC Thread - Part 3: Crisis Point

    Right, Avery managed to get a headstart on Thorvald, her lift going up to the Metis as his was still descending the Odin; a slight drawback to its magnificent size being the longer transit times. By the time he'd given it a second look, the enemy's cockpit had already opened and its contents stepped out to meet the mechanic, seemingly healthy and almost surprisingly compliant. Arriving at the base of the mech, Avery was just setting down with her and Tarquin had come over as well, apparently curious enough on this capture--despite having seemed almost willing to send half of the previous ones out the airlock upon initial interaction. It was often hard to get a read on the boy, but perhaps he just hadn't been making enough of an effort lately. Kim and her copilot were also on their way over, so he turned and enthusiastically gave them a wave, a small signal to hurry up, things might be getting interesting. As Tarquin began a stiltingly formal introduction to the latest Apotheosis clone trooper, Thorvald left him to the task, pulling Avery slightly aside and trusting Kim to handle things if the seemingly docile captive suddenly changed moods. "I didn't notice when it happened. D'you open that up, or did she pop the hatch on her own? And what's she said so far?"