I've been hoping for a sign...

[hallaifyouherd]

Who| Marjara Lavellan, and YOU?
What| The new kid in town is finding her way around.
Where| Around the ship in general.
When| First arrival.
Warnings/Notes| If you're squicked by mentions of amputation...well. Here's your warning.


As Inquisitor, she's traveled through the Veil to the Fade, the realm of abstracts and dreams. She's traveled through time. She's delved into the literal hearts of beings too massive and ancient to fathom. But this place is something else entirely. Sleek and metal, with no ground or dirt to be seen, outside of the lush forest that's been afforded her as her biome. And Elgar'nan, she'd never seen so many stars in her life.

Yes, she could certainly be found on the Observation Deck, putting it to its purpose with wide, dark eyes. One sleeve hangs empty, but her other arm extends to grip the rail, allowing her to lean forward as far as she dares. It's all a bit dizzying.

People might blink to see her poke her head into the training room, given her size and slender form, but she does so with great interest. With the loss of her arm, she'll have to relearn fighting with a staff, regaining proper balance with the weapon. She'll need to learn sooner, rather than later. Particularly if she's agreed to fight with the Legion.

Another fight to save all of creation. At least it doesn't fall entirely on her shoulders, this time.

She traverses the halls as well, taking in all the sights and sounds with perked ears and all the curiosity of a kitten. There are a great many humans here but none have mistaken her for a servant yet. So that's a pleasant change of pace. There have been whispers of a farm or garden, something of that nature. Perhaps a place she might be able to continue her study of herbs and potion-making? She may as well cultivate any advantage she can get.

Comments

[whyarewehere]

Grif is on his way down to the habitat, halfway through a bag of space cheese doodles, when he notices someone new is wandering around. He's pretty sure he'd remember some combination of the facial tattoos, he missing forearm, and pointed ears.

"Hey," he says, only pausing to swallow after he's started, "Are you a Legionnaire?" he asks casually. Grif, for his part, is in rumpled civvies instead of his uniform. He prefers not to do the whole spandex deal unless he has no other choice.

[hallaifyouherd]

The muffled 'hey' through a mouthful of food still manages to grab her attention, as she turns to regard Grif with a somewhat perplexed expression. "I...suppose I am, now," she replies hesitantly, though less out of lack of certainty than just a general bemusement at his appearance.

"Are you?"

He doesn't look it, but then, who can really tell?

[spacesharks]

Kyle likes it here. It's not so much about the scenery—he's painted space plenty of times before. It's more about the people, and Marjara's awe is pretty much exactly what makes it so great. He does a quick sketch before approaching her with a smile.

"I hope you've got your flight ring," he teases. "I haven't seen anyone fall from here yet, but I sure wouldn't wanna be first."

[hallaifyouherd]

Her head turns abruptly from the beautiful sight, her focus training on the approaching figure. The ring? Oh, right...

A glance is given to the ring on her finger, the mark of a Legionnaire, before she smiles warmly and lifts her hand to wiggle said finger. "I've taken steeper falls...but I think I'm safe," she replies, her voice teasing.

[spacesharks]

"Oh, good. I mean, I've got mine, too, but I figure it's probably best to save yourself that embarrassment all together."

Especially with the way Legion fans could be. He's only messing around, but goodness knows fans of the Legionnaires never forget anything. Joking aside, though...

"But it's pretty amazing, right? Just... all of this."

[isthisapidge]

Pidge slapped her hand over her mouth, totally mortified of the sound she just made.

She'd just been walking down the hall, focused intently on...literally everything else that was going on right now. She was going to the observation deck to just be surrounded by space and technology, in the hopes that that would help her think better.

And then she looked up and saw an honest-to-goodness real, genuine, gold-plated elf. Just like out of Killbot Phantasm I.

And she squee'd. Literally. An embarrassingly high-pitched noise just jumped out of her mouth before she could even think about it. And she's staring right at her too. Intergalactic galactic relations are apparently not her A-game.

[hallaifyouherd]

The noise is a startling one and Marjara pauses mid-step, eyes widening ever so slightly. Yes, that came from the young person in front of her, and yes, it was a result of her being there. If the staring was any kind of indication.

"Ah...yes?"

And she glances behind her, just to make sure. Nope. Nothing else there. Definitely staring at her, and she blinks puzzledly for a moment.

[isthisapidge]

Pidge just knows she isn't going to be able to explain this in a way that won't make her sound like a complete and utter racist. Even if it does turn out that she has a similar enough cultural background to understand why seeing someone out of a fantasy would evoke that response, it's probably different when you're on the other side of it? Pidge would assume, anyway.

"Well, in my world elves aren't real soooo when I saw you that, um, just kind of...happened."

This is why Pidge spends most of her time with machines.

"I'm sorry."

[araignee_du_soir]

From one of the lounge-style rooms, an accented voice laced with disgust reached those pointed ears.

"I cannot even shoot them?" A derisive snort. "What a pathetic weakness."

Should the newest Legionnaire look, she would find Widowmaker nestled into a chair positioned so she had a clear view of the entire room and nothing at her back. A holographic screen was up in front of her as she seemed to be reading up on alien anatomy.

[hallaifyouherd]

Oh, she looks. With an accent like that, she can't not. Orlesians, in space? Perish the thought.

But the woman she sees in front of her doesn't look like the Orlesian nobility she's used to. Her eyes flicker between the blue-tinted woman and the screen, brow arching inquisitively.

"Am I interrupting?"

If so, she'll show herself out.

[araignee_du_soir]

Pale eyes move from the screen to the newcomer in silent consideration. On one hand, this one was interrupting, but Widowmaker was sufficiently irritated at Daxam physiology that had she actual emotions, she would've tossed the holoscreen across the room. Or made it... float away. She wasn't sure which it would be.

"Non. A break from this drivel would be a good idea," she replied.

[nofortunateson]

Given the general technology level of the world they're in, North would have expected all the farming to be automated. And for all he knows, a decent portion of it must be, to feed a ship of this size. But there are still enough tasks to be done by hand that he can spend a relaxing hour or two making himself filthy and pleasantly tired before he goes back to his quarters to shower and get on with his day.

That's about where he's at as he heads out of the habitat deck, grass-stained at the knees of his hard-wearing off-duty trousers and checking his boots for mud when someone ambles by. Someone who's more or less broadcasting her unfamiliarity with the area.

"Morning." He lifts his hand in a quick wave, smiling amicably. "Looking for something?"

[hallaifyouherd]

She pauses, turning back towards the man who'd greeted her. She's got to admit, the friendliness here is remarkable, and more than a little welcome. So she'll return it in kind, turning more fully with a small smile and a shrug of her shoulders.

"Not in particular? Just trying to find my way around. The way you do in a place this big." There's a vague gesture with her hand -- noticeably the only one she has -- back the way she'd just come and the hall stretching ahead. "And I thought the castle was massive."

It's then she notices the grass-stains, with a flicker of interest. "Is there...a garden somewhere around here?"

[nofortunateson]

Ah, reconnoitering. It had been North's first priority as soon as he'd had the ability and opportunity to look around the place too, and he's about to comment on that when she has a look at his grubby trousers and connects the dots.

"Forget a garden, there's a whole section of the habitat deck just for farming." He jerks his thumb over his shoulder, back in the direction he'd come. "Do you want to see?"

[crowskinovercoat]

Someone keeps making mincemeat of a hologram in the training room. She looks a nightmare, the way she moves - snicker-snack with a blade in the boot and a blade on the hand, here and there, a bright arc of killing trailing behind her blows, flicking in and out of life all around her. It could be a dance - a dangerous one to play partner to, but a dance all the same - but the feverish intensity with which she throws herself at even this false opponent makes it more like a dervish.

Her ragged coat whirls around this thing of scraps as she leaps into the air, flipping over her opponent's "head", and brings herself fists-first straight down onto the holographic figure with a crash, pounding it into the floor hard enough the impact forces its body to bounce off and away before dissolving in a shower of hard light projectiles and "rebooting" back into a stationary position.

Velvet straightens, fists clenched at her sides, shoulders arched and bestial - and then she realizes there's someone "new" watching her. (She is somewhat used to getting stared at, especially here, but she's never all that unaware of it.) She turns, coincidentally giving Marjara a good look at the bandages covering the length of her left arm as she does, and glances her way, the explicit violence of her posture leeching away and leaving merely cautious tension behind.

[hallaifyouherd]

It's a masterful display, the sort of thing they told her people here would be capable of. Blending physical prowess and that sort of energy is what she's hoping for, although this is...feral. Wilder than the disciplined techniques a Knight-Enchanter is taught.

She can't help but be intrigued, standing to watch until she's noticed there lingering at the door, and she straightens upon Velvet's eyes falling upon her. "You look as though you could pull that off in your sleep, as easy as you make it look," she opines, before stepping a little closer.

Nothing to be wary of here, Velvet. See how friendly she is?

[crowskinovercoat]

It's not Marjara's fault, really; Velvet's just a pacing caged animal around everyone. It's how she's wired.

"I've slept through doing worse," she says, simply enough, because it's simply the truth. The Abbey didn't really care much about whether she was awake or not when they decided it was their daemonic garbage disposal's feeding time; she learned how to adapt, because she wasn't about to learn how to die.

It isn't her intention to make that sound like a threat, but the flat grumble of her default tone of voice is what it is.

[deafleppard]

Having left the mess hall, Gwen's finishing up the last bits of her meal that she's taken to go. She's browsing her phone for all the latest news and funny videos while also playing some loud and fast music that others might hear coming out of her earbuds. By now she's familiar with most everyone on the ship, at least to the point where she can easily spot a new arrival from a mile away.

Okay, maybe not an actual mile but it's still an obvious sight for her.

"Hey." She calls out, taking out the buds from her ears.

"Don't worry. The only thing between you and the unforgiving vacuum of space is this station."

[hallaifyouherd]

"Vacuum?"

She gives Gwen a puzzled look, eyes pulling away from the sight. Worried? No, she really hadn't been. But the way this girl speaks, perhaps she ought to be?

It hadn't been so long ago that 'space' had really just been the stars in the sky, too far away to even consider reaching or exploring.

[deafleppard]

"Yeah, you didn't already know? There nothing out there. No air, and no anything else. So that's why. Vacuum." That sure was Gwen putting the fear of space into someone brand new.

Welcome aboard.

"Make sense?"

[mylawn]

76 doesn't spend much time in the more common areas of Legion World, but even a reclusive vigilante needs to get out sometimes. When he does, it's usually for training, sometimes on a firing range, sometimes on a mat, venting his aggression on an unsuspecting punching bag. Marjara pokes into the training room when he's currently engrossed in the latter, so much so that he doesn't notice anyone else in the room.

But it's only a matter of time before he feels himself being watched, and his exercises slow and come to a stop as he realizes that there's someone watching him. 76 doesn't seem angry, but wary might be a better word.

"Need something?"

[hallaifyouherd]

Her brow knits faintly as she moves in, bare feet padding quietly against the floor. "Just looking."

It's a look she's seen before, that wariness. Too many soldiers wear that look. But she doesn't approach that fact, no. Instead she's taking the opportunity to look over the facility and the equipment provided to them.

"It's all a little different from stuffed dummies on wooden poles, that's all."

[mylawn]

"Well, feel free."

Don't let him stop you, even though he's most certainly stopped his current routine to give Marjara a good once-over. After a moment, he tries to mask it by heading over to the bag he's brought with him, slowly and methodically un-velcro-ing his gloves.

Still watching her, of course.

"Not used to this level of tech?"

Obs deck

[wherenoonegoes]

"No matter how many times I look out there, I don't think this view will ever get old."

The comment comes from a young man resting on the ground and looking up into the stars. He has his own missing limb, his foot replaced by a pegleg.

Also there's a dragon sitting next to him.

[hallaifyouherd]

So you'll have to forgive her, Hiccup, but where she comes from? She kills dragons. A not insignificant number, either. And this one, while still only the size of a dragonling, is still not small.

So of course she startles, initially, reaching for a staff she no longer carries and gripping nothing but air. In that space of time, however, she realizes that it's not attacking. And Hiccup doesn't seem all that concerned, either.

Her eyes dart between them. Her mouth opens and then shuts again. Alright. New experiences not all limited to being 'in the future'.