A Matter of Opinion

[Chadwyck]

Torin looked around at the buildings falling apart on the street, various people walked hurriedly down the cracked sidewalks. Their hands were shoved in their pockets, and their gazes all hid various feelings and ideas. Each had their own agenda, and from the looks on their faces, as well as their body language, they were undoubtedly of questionable legality. Not that it mattered, they were after bigger prey.

The Martian sun was setting, which meant that there would be no light aside from the artificial lights of the city. Torin wasn't worried, the three of them could handle any of the lowlifes that this part of town held. But the crew that they were looking for, if anything went wrong with this plan, their shot at the captain would be gone. At least, the way that didn't involve blowing the news station he was in charge of off the face of the planet. "Wonder what the recruitment involves," Torin said thoughtfully as he cracked his fingers, he was still getting used to the stranger's body he was now inhabiting, "They aren't just going to say, 'oh you wanna join? Great!' Even if that'd be the easiest course." He shrugged.

Voices echoed from an alleyway up ahead, and a faint glow lined the cracked walls. Silhouettes danced in the light, dozens of them, hysteric laughter could be heard right before a sickening crack rang from the alleyway. "All right!" A voice called, it oozed with self-righteousness, "Looks like you ain't half bad. Get out of the circle." A few shadows on the wall shifted, and then there was a moment of tense silence. "Who's next, then?" Asked the voice.

By now the sun had set, and when Torin and the others turned down the alley, he saw that about twenty feet into the alley it widened a bit. In the opening there was a circle of torches, people were lined up around the circle. From the looks that were cast their way, it was obvious that this was the pirate recruitment. "Well, look what we have here." The voice from before spoke.

Torin could see that the person it belonged to was standing alone on one side of the circle, his clothes were slightly more formal. It was safe to assume that he was the second in command of the crew. He had slick blond hair, and he was clean shaven. At his side hung a rapier, and he eyed the trio with fiery-orange eyes. "This where we sign up?" Torin stared into the man's eyes, he was answered by various chuckles. A few people stepped aside to turn and look at them, the circle was bloodstained, if it wasn't obvious it was a fighting circle before, now it was.

"Not exactly, 'friend.'" The man smirked, "In our crew, we like to have a nice round number. Meaning that if you want in, you have to kill an existing crew member. That's the way it works, and we're always looking for new talent." He added with a semi-sadistic smile. "Of course, if you want to be pirates, that's not a problem." He beckoned them over.

Torin glanced at his companions, this wasn't exactly expected. Too late to say no, chances are they'd be killed on the spot if they declined. Not that backing out was ever an option, but that metaphorical door had now officially closed. Torin wondered briefly what crew members who weren't skilled in physical combat did, before he remembered that as far as pirates were concerned, everyone had to be skilled in physical combat. Torin slightly nodded to the two with him.

Torin stepped forward into the fiery circle, all the eyes fell upon him. On the other side of the circle, a man of equal musculature, but slightly taller stepped into the ring. Torin made a mental note not to use any lightning, even though there were countless others who could use magic in the universe, if they had data on him they could know of his preference to lightning magic. It may have been a tad too cautious, but better safe than sorry, and sorry in this case meant dead.

"This'll be a fun one to watch," The co-captain commented as the man across from Torin removed his shirt, revealing countless scars and cuts across his body, along with various tattoos. The most noticeable of which was the large text of various profanities across his chest. Torin sighed, he cracked his knuckles and removed his jacket.

Torin noticed that the man was holding a knife in his right hand, his long brown hair fell over his face, half concealing his wicked smile. No honor among thieves, eh? Torin thought as he took a fighting stance. The man ran forward, lunging with the blade of the knife straight for Torin's heart. Torin managed to side- step the attack, nearly stepping out of the circle, which caused the fire between two torches to leap out and connect. A firewall, as it were? Torin thought as he managed to stop himself from falling through the flames.

"Did I fail to mention?" The blond man spoke up, "That stepping out of the circle is a forfeit, and you will be killed." He said nonchalantly.

Torin turned to face the man once more, he was twirling the knife in his hand, eyeing Torin up and down, figuring out his fighting style. Once again he moved forward, he threw a quick kick at mid-level. Torin blocked it by stepping with his own leg and using his knee to glance off the kick. The knife was swung at his throat almost the very second that the man's leg came in contact with Torin's. Torin through up his left hand and caught the incoming attack by grasping the man's wrist, stepping forward and elbowing the man in the throat. The man coughed until drops of blood escaped from his lips. He wiped them off as he stepped back. I feel too sluggish, it's this larger body, I'm not used to being so heavy. Luckily this guy isn't too fast either. He resumed his previous stance, the man looked at him with intense anger, his breathing sounded raspy. He began twirling the knife again, Torin decided to make the first move this time and ran forward. The man reacted almost immediately, tossing the knife mid-twirl. Torin saw it, but wasn't quick enough to step aside fully, the blade stuck into his shoulder. Warm blood seeped out of the wound. Damn this body. He stepped forward again, grunted as he grabbed hold of the knife with his left hand and he breathed heavily as he tore it from his flesh with a single tug.

He swung the knife multiple times, his opponent side-stepping each one. The man backed up a bit, Torin surveyed the situation quickly. His opponent was quicker than he let on. Torin shifted his stance slightly, he threw the knife at his opponent. As predicted, he saw the attack as soon as it was launched and leapt to his right to avoid it. As soon as he moved, so did Torin. He rushed forward, and he thrust his legs out in a drop kick that connected with his opponent as soon as his feet had touched the ground, the force sent him flying back. Torin watched as the flames between two of the torches connected once again, only this time it was to catch his opponent, who flew straight through the fire. The enchanted fire burned him almost immediately, a few charred remains lingered momentarily before being reduced to ash.

"Hm. Using your surroundings to your advantage, apparently it is time to replace that fool. Welcome aboard." The co-captain said leisurely, it was apparent that the man's death pleased him by the look on his face. "Now then, which of you would like to be next?" He asked simply. Torin looked to his companions, holding the new wound in his shoulder.

 

[StellarWind Elsydeon]

"Vell, vell, vell. Qvite a fix I seem to have gotten myself into, isn't it?" Emerant chuckled as she stepped onto the arena with a sort of clumsy gait - Galatea never liked to expose her combat training until it was too late. She loved to tease her victims. Give them the impression that they're winning - that she was a helpless techie. Maybe draw first blood if she felt like it - and then, just when the enemy thinks he's won - break them very, very thoroughly.

And if there was something Emerant was good at, it was staying in character. Her Galatea-induced accent never wavering and the trademark predatory smirk never leaving her face. "So, It's a vone-on-vone you vant, isn't it? Ooh. I'm terrified." Her voice was confident, but her breathing accelerated and she seemed tense. The real Galatea was very well trained in controlling her outward appearance. Emerant smirked inwardly at the thought.

The man who stepped up to take her challenge was a tall, tanned male with a swimmer's frame - he looked like he had strong shoulders and arms, in particular. His hair was short and black and he had a goatee and a pierced ear. Kinda handsome really - the real Galatea would have thought of it was a waste. Emerant, however, did not really give a damn. But she responded in a very in-character manner.

"Oooh, a big strong man." she said, narrowing her eyes behind her goggles "Almost seems unfair, doesn't it?"

"You sure have a lot of guts, lady." the man replied, licking his lips "Maybe I'll have a little fun with you before I kill you."

"Oooh, I like zem feisty!" Emerant grinned, and with a yell, she charged forward, swinging her right arm wildly. The man, in response, simply grabbed her hand in midair and, with a sweeping kick to her legs, knocked her down. She sprang up rapidly, smirking even more "And you like it rough, too! I like zat in a man."

She charged again, this time with a kick to the ribs - which connected - but the man did not flinch, grabbing the female by her leg and holding her off the ground by it. The girl punched furiously at whatever she could reach, but it seemed like her punches were contacting iron. The man smirked as Emerant mimicked the frustration of a woman who is fighting her best but failing.

"Give up, girlie." the man said, smirking, "I'm way out of your league."

"Are you sure? Because zey say that ZIS is qvite ze kicker!" she grinned a savage grin, and headbutted the man straight in the crotch. Hard.

The man doubled back in pain, collapsing to the ground, dropping the girl to the ground, where she collapsed, breathing heavily - mimicing an adrenaline rush slowly fading out. A moment later, he rose, his eyes bloodshot.

"You won't live to regret this, you little bitch!" He yelled, rushing forward, pinning the girl to the ground and battering her mercilessly with punches to the face and the ribs. Emerant attempted to struggle (or at least, gave a reasonable facsimile of attempting) while keeping her goggles as far away from the man's reach as possible.

Eventually he stopped, catching his breath, standing up, surveying the female's fallen form. She coughed up a small amount of blood - or at least, a reasonable facsimile of, her expression looking as if she was going to die from the pain alone.

The man smirked, reaching down, wrapping his fingers around her throat and squeezing, pulling her off the ground, her body hanging almost limply, but clearly still breathing.

"I'm going to squeeze the life out of you bit by bit." he growled "And when you're dead..." and suddenly he screamed, letting go.

A sharp jolt of piercing pain shot up a point on the man's body that made the man lose his steady footing and collapse - a pressure point. Soon, he realized the origin - the small ring the girl wore on one of the fingers of her left hand. How come he didn't notice it there? No, there was something different about the ring - something that snapped open. A needle, covered in blood. His own blood.

A predatory grin came to her face again as she stood up, wincing a little from the "pain" but on the whole, not entirely hurt.

"Vell, zat vas refreshing." Emerant grinned, fully confident "You see, I know things about ze human body zat vould be qvite surprising to an average person. For instance, zat through meditation vone could easily imitate pain or stress vhere no such truly exist. Or zat vhen hit a certain vay, certain points on a person's body can paralyze zem for a vhile."

"You... bitch... what have you DONE to me?" the man coughed, his vision blurry, his body shaking.

"Do you know about Solicultrine? Lovely little chemical, zat. It is derived from ze leaves of ze Antarian Sundagger Tree,Solicultrium tuvaii, and it is vone of ze most powerful psychoactive substances known to mankind. It spreads very rapidly throughout the body and crosses ze blood-brain barrier with remarkable ease. A mere few drops of zis are enough to send you into dreamland for a very, very long time. And guess vhat. It vorks by expanding consciousness and peeling off layers and layers of memory, exposing zem, mangifying zem. Vell. Let's see vhat you have to show us, zen!"

The female grinned - and then became dead serious, speaking in a deadpan voice "I've done my homevork, you zee. Your name is Jan Thalamos, originally born on Colony World #218, Acadia Prime, before ze revolt. You vere an accident - your mother vaz being used by a corrupted alliance security officer to relieve his ovn personal desires, and vhen she got pregnant... Vell, he didn't really give a damn, didn't he? No, he just continued on. Zen vone day - you vere a teenager, veren't you? zey got into an argument, vhich ended vhen he raped her and killed her in front of you. Zat vas ze first time you murdered a man, vasn't it? I bet it felt delicious. Alliance prick got vhat he deserved, didn't he?"

The man's eyes widened - he was reliving the memories, Emerant's voice consuming his mind.

"Zat vas just about close to ze time of ze revolt - I'm sure zat ze revolt and ze planetary scale bombardment zat vollowed didn't help matters either, yes? No, zey didn't. Poor you, selling all you have zo you could get off zat rock vhen the citizens finally rebelled because you vere too chicken to fight ze alliance alone - because you have enough sense to know zat vone drunk pig is not a typical example to ze strength of ze alliance. Zen ze year of drifting along from planet to planet, resorting to piracy, backstabbing several of your past captains when a bigger vone came along..."

The male was convulsing as Emerant continued her relentless attack on the man's consciousness.

"Remember Vandross? Ze first man who picked you up from ze streets and taught you everything you know? Remember how you shot him in ze back and pledged allegiance to Leni The Bloodhound ze moment you realized zat being on her crew could give you better benefits? Oh, and you did harvest zose benefits razher vell until you got bored and found a captain vith bigger boobs. Unfortunately, not much bigger brains. But her crew vas loyal to her, vasn't it? You couldn't really take ze lead of zem through manipulating her - and zen, vhen your current captain managed to capture zeir ship for infringing on his territory, you just grovelled like a little girl until you got a position. I could go into more detail, of course, but that'd take var too long."

She smirked, gazing at the convulsing man "Poor, poor you. Ze mind, it is so fallible. Torn betveen the pain of treachery and defeat and ze pleasure of certain past memories. Yes, you had your hardships in ze past, your traumas, but playing victim to circumstances does not excuse you from being a covardly bastard. And now look at vhat you've been reduced to, and I know you can sense it. Creatures like you are to be pitied. Nothing more."

She stood proudly, gazing at the man for a moment "And now, your life ends. Say good night, Jan-boy. Give my regards to your friends on ze other side."

A gunshot sounded, and the man convulsing on the ground breathed his last breath as the bullet went through his skull. In Emerant's deadpan speech, no one even noticed her shaking a tiny, previously-concealed gun from an inner pocket of her jacket into her hand.

She pulled the gun to her lips and lightly blew the plume of smoke away from the tip of its muzzle.

"Zat'll teach you to underestimate a lady." she said, the predatory grin returning to her face, delivering a very well-aimed kick to the pirate's dead body, shoving it straight into the ring of fire. There was no remorse in her face at all as the ring flared up, incinerating the corpse to cinders.

"Vell? Anyvone else vants to take on a defenseless techie?" Emerant muttered. There was silence.

"... Welcome aboard." said the second in command - it appeared that what he saw stunned even him.

"Didn't think so." she said, stepping out of the ring, and taking her place by Torin's side - a little shakily. If she was the real Galatea, she'd certainly feel that after a while, when her mental conditioning would relax a little. But by that time she'd be able to get herself all the medical technology she needed.

Not that she herself really needed it, but making the impression was the important thing.

 

[Sem]

"Guess it's my turn, 'hos," Casilde smirked, walking with powerful strides into the ring. She spoke with her Hispanic accent, standing with one hand on her hip and the other hanging loosely at her side. The older woman inside Casilde briefly examined whatever spell was surrounding the ring. "Powerful stuff," she remarked, taken a moment to consider whether or not she could survive it based on her magical resistance alone. She figured yes, but barely, and that she should also avoid a situation where she would, for some strange reason, against all odds, gods-forbid, go flying through it. "Your hair would be a charred mess," she reasoned to herself.

"C'mon, which of you studs wants me?" she asked, smiling seductively with a bat of her eyes.

They seemed reluctant, most likely for what had happened to the last two. They all knew one of them had to, else the second in command would choose for them. At last one came forward, a very short man, not overly muscular. He wore a pair of worn jeans and a red scarf around his neck. He had to have been three heads shorter than Casilde. The woman examined him quickly, noting to herself off the bat that despite how he looked he was in the crew for some reason, and that he obviously felt sure of himself.

"Man, finally," Sorena said, rolling her shoulders. "At least one of you's got balls."

"I got more than that," he informed her, looking up at her. Though he was looking quite serious he couldn't hide the blush in his face.

Casilde grinned. "I like that."

"Ladies first," he bowed briefly. Sorena knew that he wasn't going to go thinking this would be an easy win, the other two had thought that and ended up as ash-piles. The midget-man realized that there were more to these newcomers and that they should be treated with caution.

"If you say so, cholo," Sorena replied with a shrug. She sprinted forward, kicking up into the air at an angle so that she was horizontal with the ground. Swinging her leg around she brought the sharp toe down towards the top of his head.

The pirate back flipped out of the way, landing against one of the torches. He kicked off of the pole and flew at his enemy. Casilde, who's stiletto-boot connected only with the ground, flung herself flat against the floor to avoid the human-projectile. "He's fast," Sorena told herself, standing up and dusting off her trench. "And agile."

He threw himself into a roll as he landed back on the ground and was up in an instant, jumping up and down with fists raised. Before Sorena reacted he threw himself into a series of cartwheels, flinging himself up into the air. She successfully avoided a flying-kick, but was only met with a fist to her cheek. The witch staggered, boots scraping and clicking against the ground as she steadied herself. She heard chuckling from the men while she felt her face; it was the first hit she had taken in a long while, even if she was purposely not doing as well as she could be. Pirates didn't need to know that Sorena could have killed him before the match had even started. With a frown she spun around to face her foe.

"I'm sorry, did that hurt?" he sneered.

"What, this?" Casilde shot back. "I said you had balls, fool, I didn't say you had nothin' else worth mentionin'," she walked forward. "You won't even got those once I'm through with you!" Turning to the side at the last moment she preformed a reverse spinning-kick on the man. The back of her heel caught him on the side of the head, sending his small body to the ground instantly.

"Hnn!" Casilde grinned with satisfaction, stepping back to let him get up. "I'm no piece of trash, ho, I've been on the streets all my life: I know how to adapt, and I'll adapt to your speed quick."

"You sure look like a whore, whore," he fired back at her, leaping high into the air and bringing both his feet down on her.

Sorena threw up both her arms in a block. Being the acrobat he was, he back-flipped off her arms like she figured he would do. She rushed in, kneeing him in the back before he could complete the flip. He yelled in pain as he flew farther than he would have, thanks to the knee, landing on his stomach with a thud. He was on his feet in the flash though, forcing the wind from Casilde's lung with a swift kick to her stomach.

"You little-" she coughed, her eyes incredulous as she tried to catch her breath as she clutched her stomach. He demonstrated a rather vulgar gesture to her involving his crotch accompanied by a chorus of loud laughter before jumping back and initiated his next course of action.

The little man bounced around the ring, hitting her with a cumulative amount of weak hits. After a significantly strong punch to the side of her head he was only a blur to her vision. "No more nice old lady in hot-woman's clothing," she thought to herself, curling her lip in a snarl as she caught him by his hair as he flew by.

Lifting her arm, she held him in the air, his face grimacing in pain as he dangled by his hair. He tried to hit her with one of his flailing limbs, only to find himself lifted higher and further away from her. "Ready for this?" she asked him, delivering a powerful shock to his system that started from the strands of hair in her hand down to his toes.

He yelled loudly, his skin charring and his muscles seizing as he hung there. "I was being nice before," she continued with teeth bared, nostrils flaring as her eyes seethed with venom. "But you don't screw with me," she told him, initiating another, though weaker shock. Sorena dropped him, where he fell to his knees facing away with her. Casilde kicked him in the back of the head with the bottom of her boot, driving his face to the floor with her foot pressing down on him. With a growl she pressed hard, rubbing his face in the dirt, scum, and blood of the street, cutting up his face. After a minute she let go, stepping back to allow him to get up.

"My god, you're so frickin' tiny," Casilde continued. "There's no way you get any by askin' nicely," she sneered. "That why you a pirate ain't it? So you don't have to ask the sluts you decide to screw?"

"Shut the hell up, lady!" he fumed, wiping the blood from his mouth. He jumped at her again, punching her hard in the chest.

With another growl she took hold of his arm, swinging him around before bringing him up over her head and slamming him down hard onto the ground. He coughed up blood, arms shaking violently as he forced himself up onto his two feet. The pirate looked too dazed still, so Sorena made her move, walking quickly and confidently up to him, front kicking him in the chest. The force of her kick sent flying straight through the ring, turning him into a minuscule pile of ash within seconds.

"I've been saying that we need a good hottie around," the second in command said.

Casilde blew a loose strand of her crinkly hair and put her hands on her hips. She glanced at the man and nodded before joining her teammates.

 

[Chadwyck]

OoC: I'm terribly sorry that it's so terribly short. I'm still trying to get back into the mindset of this RP... I'll get better soon! (I hope)

BiC:

"Well, I guess that's it, then." The second in command stated simply, dusting himself off as though he had been fighting the trio, "You're all to be congratulated, those men were no pushovers. But the games end now, you're part of this crew, so now the work begins." He began to walk away down the alley, followed closely by the rest of the crew who hadn't been killed.

Torin stood momentarily before looking at his two companions, "Work? Where do you think we're going?" He didn't wait for a reply, as it would suspicious if they didn't follow the crew closely, but he had no idea what they were getting themselves into.

"You three!" The man called to Torin and his companions, "Keep up, I'll explain your official initiation on the way." Torin ran his hand through his hair before quickening his pace to catch up with their new leader. "Our crew must show no fear, no matter what task you are given. That is why you three shall be given a task to complete on your own. If you survive and accomplish your mission, you will officially join our ranks." He sounded as if it were the highest honor in the world, Torin made sure it looked like he thought so too.

They continued walking, slowly the destroyed buildings and cracked sidewalks gave way to taller, more modern buildings. The streets and sidewalks were all freshly paved, and looming before them was a tower with a single flag waving atop it. They came to a halt in one of the alleys.

"That, as you may recognize, is the Alliance headquarters for this whole planet, they have and do everything in that building, and it isn't good for business if they keep on running smoothly." He leaned nonchalantly against the wall directly behind him, dusting off his formal attire once again. "You three go in there, steal plans for a new Alliance weapon: The TE-473, otherwise known by its street name; the Deep-fryer. It uses thermal energy to roast one's enemies alive, like a flamethrower that's effective from long range, and much quicker." He turned his back to the trio, and the rest of the crew did the same, "Very high tech, very secret, very heavily guarded. Once you steal the plans, cause a little malfunction with their computers and come to the ship out in the Flats. If you pull this off, you may even get praise from the captain. Just maybe." He smirked as he walked down the alley in the direction that they had come, leaving Torin, Emerant, and Sorena alone.

"Seriously, their trusting three new recruits with something this big?" Torin asked rather suspiciously. In a way it made sense, new recruits meant that they'd have no way of affiliating them with that particular crew, and the Alliance wouldn't take prisoners, so there was almost no chance of them being ratted out in exchange for their freedom. But still, it was odd, "Maybe they're hoping that we get ourselves killed?" He pondered aloud, "But then they would be short on crew members, this whole thing just gives me a bad vibe." He sighed as he looked at the tower before them.

The whole thing excited him in a strange way, on his most basic level of sheer exhilaration, all he wanted was the thrill of it all, the adrenaline pumping through his veins. He lived for it. Years of being cooped up on board a space station had a way of doing that to a man, and Torin was no exception. He wanted more, thrived for excitement, he couldn't stand in one place for long, he had to constantly be moving. Not unlike the energy that he could control, the unpredictable path of a lightning bolt.

He looked at his two partners, then back at the tower, "I say that we try and get in through one of the side entrances, obviously we can't just go straight in." He said with a slight shrug, "So how do you suppose we go about this? We can't just start killing Alliance soldiers… Well, we could, but that's a lot of guys," He said in a whisper as he indicated the tower.