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Everything posted by Teagan Shae Ammer

  1. In the noise and confusion and then the screams and purple flame, Teagan made her way back over to where Pickaxe Guy and Death From Below Girl were fighting. She found the length of chain connecting Pickaxe Guy back to the other prisoners that would very much like to not be handed pickaxes or really be dealing with anything right now were. Aiming for links on laying flush on the ground so she didn't drag Pickaxe Guy down with the swing, she started working on Operation Spiders-Aren't-Our-Only-Problems.
  2. Well, I guess the diva can take care of herself, Teagan thought, staring in disbelief at Siobhan's shot. Her eyes caught on James and his newfound pickaxe; she made a dash for him. "Is there another one in there?" she shouted as she ran, adding when she was close enough to speak quietly. "Maybe we can get people free, too."
  3. Teagan let out a yelp of alarm, instinctively shoving the most vulnerable person (in her mind) behind her as she took up a defensive stance. Siobhan found herself the recipient of a hard push as Teagan snapped, "What the hell? Monster spider Nazis now, too?!?"
  4. Teagan turned hostile eyes on the Major, crossing her arms. "So, since you apparently have to kidnap your 'treasures,' I assume 'cherish' means put out or we'll just rape you anyways? I mean, I get it. No one wants to fuck a Nazi, let alone willingly marry something so sub-human. Other than head-case with the shiner over there." She made a rude gesture towards Ava, her opinion of the woman quite clear. "And the Third Reich? Utter embarrassing flop. Read a goddamn history book."
  5. "Just leave the stupid racist bitch alone," Teagan glared at Ava, but she'd moved over to Siobhan to check on her. "She's clearly a waste of carbon and oxygen. Not worth it." And the other one's a diva that's going to have a second breakdown on us once she realizes this isn't the latest season of Survivor: Nazi Edition. Great.
  6. Initiative: Details:[7d2 (1 2 1 2 1 1 2)] - 3 successes
  7. Teagan lurched towards Ava, rage and murder clear on her face. Morgan managed grab Teagan's arms and lean in front of her. "Not now," she told the tempestuous blonde in a low tone. She could feel Teagan seething, muscles clenched tight and the incision on her arm seeping blood again. She finally sat back, ripping her eyes away from the woman who'd just identified herself as a collaborator with the enemy. "What. the. hell. is. going. on?" Teagan hissed through clenched teeth, her words not so much an actual question or meant to carry past Morgan and Siobhan.
  8. Teagan blinked at the make-up advice mid-kidnapping, but she managed to place the woman's face and gave the benefit of the doubt for coping mechanisms. "Well, high elf wizard is a bit cliché in the nerd world, but it's fun." She smiled, a gave the make-up bag a nod. "I might take you up on the eye liner, but once we're out of here, okay?" "Okay, so you two are famous. My family has money. Maybe that's what this about? Ransom or something?" She glanced at the men on the other side of the bars, dropping her voice even lower. "One of them said that they aren't trusted yet. Maybe it's like a hazing thing, the uniforms? They could be some sort of...neo-nazis, but like trying to be even more like original Nazis? Since those running the actual show all seem to be German, or at least playing at actually being German."
  9. The platinum blonde nodded to Morgan. "Me too. Apparently I dressed for the wrong costume party." Her voice was level and dry, motioning to her gauzy high elf dress and wildly impractical knee-high heel boots. "I'm Teagan." She looked at both of them, her brow furrowing. "Do I know either of you? You guys seem kinda familiar."
  10. Teagan looked over at Siobhan and Morgan, making a note that something weird was going on with the men. Is this some weird hazing? I'm a senior! She sighed and looked down at her arm. Hazing doesn't usually involve surgery and trackers. She moved over to the other women, crouching down next to Morgan. "Deep breaths," she said as soothingly as she could. "In, count to five, and out, count to five. It'll make your body calm down so you can think. Then you can tell us who Juno is." And maybe we can all make a plan. Train whistle. We could really be anywhere. Don't panic! In, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. Out, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5.
  11. Teagan kept her arm out of sight of their Nazi (or at least neo-Nazi) train car companions. "It's fine," she said softly. "It's clotted, I just don't have anything to clean it off with." True to words, Morgan could now see that the arm wasn't bleeding much anymore, but mostly just smeared with drying blood. The small incision was still wet, seeping a little fresh blood around the forming clot, and lacked the stitches her own arm had. There were several small pinprick holes where the thread should be. Teagan gave their male carmates a glare, and asked Morgan in a near whisper, "Any idea what the hell is going on?"
  12. Teagan woke up and then went still. Terror raced through her, but her mind quickly clung onto to the tactics and sort-of skills she'd picked up from role playing adventurers. She glanced around the car as much as she could without actually moving her head, then slowly pulled herself under her blanket and cloak. She took stock of herself, noting the groggy, fuzzy-headed feeling in her mind and the sting around the puncture holes. The stitches sent her heartbeat through the roof again and had her gulping in humid, hot breaths. She prodded at the wound, wincing at the pain but pushing through - there! She felt a lump that wasn't supposed to be there, She pulled the sutures out, hissing at the painful tug on sliced flesh; once that was done she took a deep breath and pinched down on the flesh, trying to force it out. It didn't work. She pinched again, then poked, tugged and shook, all to no avail. Whatever the hell these people had put in her - probably a tracker - it wasn't coming out. Which probably meant they attached it to something. It was going to to take tools and someone with specific medical knowledge to get the damn thing out. She cradled her bleeding arm, tugging the blanket down and using it as an awkward bandage to soak up the blood. She hadn't made a sound yet, despite tears streaming down her face from the pain. She laid there for several minutes, letting the cut clot and her eyes clear up from the tears. When she cautiously poked her head, she noticed the five other women in cells like her. Then there were the men. Her eyes widened and her mind spun. "What the hell?" she whispered, staring at them without realizing she was staring. "I've been kidnapped by Nazis." Her brain, ever a perverse imp, added That's so last century.
  13. So far, everything had gone perfectly. Admittedly, she'd spent nearly a week getting the treasure hunt set up across the Square and two weeks before that convincing the group that it would be fun and not something they'd get arrested for. She hadn't been able to make it too arduous - after all, most of the group was far more couch potato than fantasy medieval adventurers like their characters, but she'd found good places to hide "monsters" (usually plushies wedged somewhere out of the way or left with bemused shop owners) and all the treasures were cute little bags of candies or chocolates so everyone would want to keep going. "C'mon Teagan! We can't fight a beholder! We're not high enough level!" The complaint came in over her bluetooth headset as she watched the group at the Starbuck's across the street from her. The "beholder" was sitting gamely on the counter while several baristas laughed and watched the group pout over her choice of final boss. She'd found an Etsy shop that sold D&D monster plushies - that's what set off her entire 'Night of a Thousand Battles' idea in the first place. Where am I going to put all of these when we're done? Maybe up in the display case in the living room? It's not like Dad is ever home to see I moved all of his fish trophies. The fact that the group of six was already holding a dozen or so other plushies and was dressed up like the Ren Faire had a bastard child with GenCon made her giggle again. Her own flowy dress was elf-Tolkien inspired, with a heavy cloak on over it because December in New York was far too cold for fun fashion. "Oh, buck up guys. I've given you long rests between each fight and potions and stuff in the treasure. Don't be idiots and you'll be fine. You can do this. And dinner's on me when you're done." Marty rolled his eyes, glancing around because he knew their puckish GM had to be somewhere nearby. She never missed a show and this was just so her. "At least we're at a Starbucks. I need coffee before Telran gets disintegrated by a New Year's surprise beholder." "I coulda made it a New Year's surprise tarrasque," she teased back. Evie hissed at Marty, "I like my warlock, Marty. Don't give her ideas!" She also glanced around, but couldn't spot her friend in the crush of people. "And I want Veselka after this. My feet are killing me. And Andrew is cute and working tonight." The rest of the group rolled their eyes but didn't protest. Veselka was a twenty four hour restaurant with good food and Andrew was cute. "Tell you what," Teagan said over the group chat, "if you guys can take out the beholder without any of you going down, I'll even open a tab for everyone, my treat!" The group shouted in appreciation, pulling the soft and squishy beholder over to a table after grabbing a few drinks. Character sheets were pulled up on Roll20 and initiative's rolled. They waited for Teagan to add in the beholder to their virtual tabletop and get the combat underway. After a minute, Alex frowned and prompted, "Teagan? We're all here. What's up?" Thirty seconds rolled by. "Teagan?" "Maybe she went to the bathroom?" Marty offered up, frowning. Evie snorted, "She doesn't turn her phone off for that, remember?" Rachel stood up. She was the quietest of the group, playing their monk and still a bit shy about hanging out. "Teagan?" She gave it a few seconds, then pulled up her friend locator app. Six quick steps brought her to the edge of an ally between the Starbucks and a boutique clothing store. Laying on the ground next to the bluetooth earpiece was Teagan's phone. The glass was covered in spiderweb cracks down one side and the stats for the beholder glowed softly from the screen. As Rachel bent to pick it up, the phone locked itself - she'd been gone for five minutes exactly.
  14. Teagan Shae Ammer Teagan was born to the well-to-do Ammer family, the only child Wynnona and Evan Ammer. Her childhood was relatively idyllic, with top-notch private schools, several family vacations a year, and all the toys and experiences a doted-on child could ask for. She showed a remarkable intelligence and aptitude for the sciences from a young age and her parents ensured she had the support to nurture her talents. To ensure she stayed fit and healthy, her parents also signed her up for at least one sport or ongoing outdoor activity each year. She loves swimming, running, and rock climbing the most. When Teagan turned 15, her mother had a stroke and died on the way to the hospital. Her death devastated Teagan and Evan, though the two dealt with it in wildly different manners. Evan began to spiral into social alcoholism and (thankfully generally benign) drug use; Teagan leaned heavily on her friends and even expanded her friend group looking for emotional support. This lead to her exposure to role playing, which has become her primary social hobby. Her father eventually remarried a much younger woman three years ago and while Teagan thinks her stepmother is a fine person, the fact that she’s in late twenties while Evan has just tipped over into his sixties still creeps her out (in fact, Lillian is only about five years older than Teagan). Evan and Lillian have spent the past three years mostly out of the country on the world’s longest honeymoon. Teagan was accepted at Columbia University and is in her senior year for her Bachelor’s of Engineering. She’s been an exemplary student, done internships during the summer, and has several (graduation-contingent) job offers already. As a person without the need to work, she’s taking her time deciding what she really wants to do. She’s also put in an application for a Master’s program at MIT because those people get to play with the best toys. Generally cheerful and carefree, Teagan is looking forward to her future.
  15. I'm making Teagan. She's generally pointed at the super science stuff, mechanically. Fluff-wise, she's a spunky role-player in Times Square for the ball drop because she convinced her gaming group to do a larp treasure hunt through Times Square as a fun activity for the night and to pass the time until midnight. She's a college student at Columbia University, an Engineering major. Her mother died when she was a teen and her father remarried to a woman too close to Teagan's age bracket for comfort and is (several years in) still living like a lovesick newlywed (thankfully usually in some exotic locale Teagan's new step-mom picked out). Unlike many of her economic bracket peers, Teagan turned to role-playing and friend-making to cope instead of to drugs or destructive behavior. An extrovert, strong optimist, and endless problem solver, she's engaging and sometimes just a bit too much for quieter or more introverted people.
  16. Inoae frowned as she looked around the area outside of the Broken Coin for a chair to keep warm. It seemed an odd thing to do while waiting, but her new hive had many strange customs she was still learning. She found a dilapidated chair abandoned on the side of the building - the high back having been broken off at some point, but the legs still functional enough to provide a suitable seat - and brought it back to where the rest of the team was waiting. After a moment's thought, she determined the best way to warm the seat was to simply sit in it until Evana returned to claim it. The blonde fretted that she wouldn't have enough to time to get it actually 'warm', if Evana would be back 'soon', but there was nothing to be done for it but wait and see.
  17. Long, I think Ayoto meant 'Belkan' farmers, not Athosian? The Athosians are the allies of Expedition, the ones that the team is supposed be impersonating...they're already well aware of where Atlantis is.
  18. Inoae pulled the hood off just in time to see a large, densely muscled man punch her commanding officer to the ground. Rage and fear built inside her again, like the night with the strange food that could hold the members of the hive without touching them. This one could not do that and Inoae took advantage by launching herself at him. ,, She barreled into him; the man barely budged, giving only an amused grunt when her slight weight slammed against his steady bulk. He wrapped his arms around her, pinning her to his chest. She struggled against him but he might as well have been made of steel for all the good it did her. She opened her mouth to say something, but before the little blonde could scream and call more attention to them, he clamped a hand over her mouth. ,, Her eyes went wide as anger gave way to terror, and like that night only a few weeks ago, she pulled on the power welling within her. Bates came to to a flash of light and a startled cuss from the man who’d put him on the ground. He caught sight of a trail of blonde hair in the air and felt his blood boil as Inoae landed a good twenty feet away on top of a large tent. The tent folded in under the impact, collapsing around the Lantean and onto the heads of a half-dozen patrons of the small café it had housed. ,, He surged to his feet, all caution of playing nice or blending in lost in the thought of one of his teammates being tossed around like a rag doll. The large man had turned his back to Bates, frowning at Inoae’s fall and gesturing for his two cohorts to go retrieve her. The Marine took one moment to aim, then punched the other man’s kidneys with the force of semi-truck. Another body fell to the ground and Bates strode over him with focused malice, managing to pull his punches enough to probably not have killed them. Probably. ,, Inoae had finally managed to extricate herself from the tangle of canvas, rope, spilled drinks and tumbled patrons when a phalanx of Kastari Guards trotted down the street. Natives and visitors alike scattered in front of the uniformed group of men and women. One man, his uniform several shades darker than the others, stepped into the area cleared by the fighting, positioning himself across from Bates. ,, “Malik of the Kastari Guards,” he announced himself. “You will come with us.” His eyes slid behind Bates and widened at the sight of Inoae, still a little dazed but determinedly making her way back to Bates’ side. “Both of you. Guards, gather the unconscious ones.” ,, His tone was authoritative, but Bates could read the ready set of his shoulders and the trained stance of his feet. The Guards were ready to make a fight of it if he resisted.
  19. Inoae froze for a half second as her mind reeled at the sudden darkness and then the realization that she was being taken again, most likely by Gabrell's theatre-hive. She did not want to be taken. She wanted to stay with the Atlantis Expedition hive. The desire, the loyalty, though she didn't know to call it that yet, burned through her and she moved, the weeks of training with her Yseult Moreau and then her commanding officer Bates giving her body direction. ,, She didn't bother with the cloth covering her head. She'd spent most of her life in dark places and the someone that had put it on her and was grabbing at her shoulders was far more dangerous than not being able to see. Her elbow struck back, looking for the soft spot just beneath the ribs to connect with, but content with making any sort of painful contact. ,, Mechanics Not sure if you want them or not, so I rolled them up: Initiative: Malachite *rolls* 1d10: 2: 2 = 9 total ,, Brawl: Malachite *rolls* 6d10: 9+1+6+10+4+9: 39 Malachite *rolls* 1d10: 7: 7 (Athletic quality for Strength) ,, Damage: Dunno Soak. It would be 9 dice to start from what I've rolled. I'll let you handle that if you do want to do it via mechanics.
  20. The first room was a small vestibule, black-veined white marble flooring and columns with plush red fabrics hanging in the room that pulled in the decadent feel hinted at by the exterior into the room with a grand, Romanesque feel. A large semi-circle desk dominated the left side of the room with an ornate fountain with a statue of intertwined lovers balancing the room across from the desk. Heavy crimson curtains hung down over the archway leading deeper into the building. Well-muscled and guards, one male and one female, flanked the archway, and an officious looking man in a well-cut suit that had the same colors and trim as Lobelia's tunic gave Gabrell a warm smile as the small party made their way in. "Miss Gabrell," he said in smooth Ancient, his accent canted so that he almost sounded like Inoae, "welcome home." He stepped around the table and nodded to Bates, glancing briefly at Inoae, but letting his eyes slip away from her and back to him without an actual greeting to her. "And welcome to you and yours, sir. I am Bertram, famulus of this open theatre, Puniceis." The name was pronounced with pride but sounded like some stinky French cheese to Bates. Poo-nich-ay-ee. "Shall you be joining Gabrell inside the theatre today, sir?" The question brought Bates away from the mental image of white-and-blue cheeses he never did understand how people could eat and back to focus on the uptight doorkeeper. "Uh, yeah, I suppose so." Bertram had a good poker face, Bates would grudgingly admit, but after having Inoae dropped on his lap he was becoming the master of understated expressions. Bertram was trying very hard not to laugh at him and Inoae. Inoae - and Weir - were marathoners in teaching him not to strangle every little twit that annoyed him. Bertram motioned back to the desk and series of small boxes arrayed on the table, each one filled with different forms of currency. He looked Bates over again and pulled forward a larger wooden box with satin inlays and several smaller internal compartments. Different kinds of beads rattled in their individual compartments, including a number like the ones the Athosians had traded the Expedition for. "The door fee today is six beads." Bates blinked and shot a look at Gabrell, expecting her to step in. She had invited him to this place, right? Gabrell blinked back at him and smiled. "This is Leon's first time to a theater, Bertram," she explained smoothly. "Ah, yes," he nodded to Gabrell and looked to Bates with a polite professionalism. "Theatres are, as I hope Gabrell has at least intimated, are places for those of discerning and particular tastes to entertain themselves and each other on Kastar. To enter a theatre, there is a door fee. For that, you may circulate in the courtyard and open rooms wearing," he reached over to a silver-chased box, flicking open the lock and opening the lid with a practiced movement and pulling out two thin grey-beaded bracelets, "these. In the courtyard you'll be able to view the open rooms, which will each have a theme, both in the activities of the room and in the color. If you would like access to the rooms in the theatre that share that theme, you may purchase a bracelet of that color from any of the satelles moving around the courtyard." Bertram left the bracelets laid out on his palm and the box of beads open next to him. Bates would have left - he didn't like feeling suckered into paying just to walk into a building and he could still hear the sound of Gabrell's slap in the back of his mind - but they were here to gather information and so far this was his best lead. He pulled out the pouch of beads, carefully counting them out in his his hand. When he started to add the seventh bead to the pile in his hand, Bertram made a polite noise and scooped out the half-dozen beads somehow without actually touching Bates' skin. "The door fee is only for guests, sir. Your familiaris enters with you." The beads clinked into the box and Bertram slipped the grey bracelet onto Bates' wrist with that same touchless trick, tying off the ends with a twist of his fingers that somehow tied off the bracelet in a knot Leon couldn't quite follow in just a glance. Bertram motioned for Inoae to hold out her arm and the not-so-waifish-anymore blonde skittered behind her commanding officer, finally overwhelmed by too many new things in the day. She whispered something to the large man, who tensed and frowned. Bertram and Gabrell exchanged glances and Bertram easily shifted his motion, laying the bracelet in Bates' hand. "If you would, sir, she cannot enter without wearing the bracelet." Bates wondered if this was going to be one of those times with Inoae; a breakdown right now would be both irritating and the proof he could take to Weir to prove that Inoae shouldn't be being sent on missions. He tugged her out from behind him and held up her arm, watching her carefully as he tied the bracelet around her wrist. He murmured a word to her, the lift in his intonation marking it as a question, and the quiet girl answered with the same word, but as a statement. He wasn't sure if he should be happy or upset that the moment had passed without a total meltdown, but it had passed and Gabrell was already threading an arm through his and leading them past the heavy curtains. The hallway cut through to the center of the building, large sensual paintings lining the walls and ending with another pair of curtains, these drawn and held by thick cords, at the end. It opened up into a center courtyard, sunshine streaming through the glass ceiling; each level of the building making a teir of walkway and rooms that were open into the courtyard. No other lights were lit in the courtyard itself, though there were what looked like gas lamps placed around the walkways on the floor level. The rooms each had their own lamps or candles, or enticing dimness, to highlight the colors and particular theme of activities of the room, and there were people everywhere. It was like a microcosm of the bazaar, only somehow with even less clothing or inhibitions. And a lot more...well, it would take a dozen sex stores on Earth to keep this place in business, even just for a week. Bates stared, trying to take the all-ness of it in without blushing purple or actually making eye-contact with anyone. Gabrell watched the pair curiously and Lobelia attentively watched her lanistae. And Inoae, in her infinite aptitude for making the overwhelming and awkward flounder over into the realm of the utterly surreal, picked out one of the more well-lit rooms on the third floor where several men and women were tied to an entire bedroom of furniture and be tended to in a number of creatively carnal ways by enthusiastically diligent partners and pointed to it. "Are we to be having sex here, s-Leon?" she asked curiously.
  21. Gabrell shook her bracelted wrist and Lobelia slipped onto to the stool that Bates had just moved Inoae from, managing to arrange herself against the bar so that Bates would have a nice view of her feminine...assets...while also still giving him a clear view to continue his conversation with Gabrell. "Mmm...you might underestimate what I can afford, Leon," the petite woman purred. She smiled at the blonde curled up in the handsome man's arms, "But first, pleasantries, yes? I was rude before and did not ask the name of your familiaris." ,, Bates shifted uncomfortably, not from Inoae's weight, but from the implications of the conversation. "She can tell you her name herself. If she wants to," he added the last on a bit awkwardly, but dammit, they were still working on getting the Lantean functional and if they were going to be sent on missions before she was ready, then they'd have to continue the lessons in the field. ,, Gabrell arched a brow in a surprise, then transferred her enticing smile to Inoae. "Would you like to tell me your name, little one?" she asked with surprising gentleness. ,, Inoae glanced up at Bates, who kept his expression as neutral as he could so she'd have to decide on her own. She answered tentatively, keeping in mind the orders from Moira: to answer the implication instead of the actual question and to use only one name in this place, even if she was called two different ones most of the time now. "Th- I am called Inoae." ,, Bates could see the small, interested tilt in Gabrell's posture as she took in the girl's name - and her decidedly non-Athosian accent. She might be dressed like one, but she didn't act like one or sound like one. Where did he get her from? she wondered as she sat back and regarded the pair. And what is he going to do with her when he returns to his people? They are so...narrowly traditional. "Inoae," she said the name slowly, trying to match the old-fashioned way the girl had said the name. ,, She hopped up suddenly, Lobelia slipping off her stool at the same time to move to her place a step behind Gabrell. "Leon, if I cannot afford your insights, perhaps you might indulge me for a time at my open theater? We both might find a bit of entertainment there for the day, and just maybe I could learn by," she paused a heartbeat for effect, pretending to be searching for the perfect word, "observation." She held out a hand to take his arm, if he agreed to go with her.
  22. Inoae's muscles relaxes immediately at the order, but it was the actual contact with her commanding officer that began to soothe her nerves. The pair ended up at an open-air bar, beautifully carved wooden steins serving a wide range of beverages; some smelled sweet, some earthy, some bitter, and all incredibly alcoholic. Bates used two of the bead-tokens the Expedition had gotten from the Athosians for easy trade on Kastar and a few other planets that accepted them as currency to get each of them of drink - something that seemed like a stout beer for himself and a sweet wine for Inoae. ,, "Drink it slowly," he instructed her when he handed her the stein. She nodded and sipped at it, careful not to show her dislike at the sharp tang of the alcohol. ,, They drank and observed the people around them, the chatter of dozens of languages threaded through with Ancient as the verbal point of crossover. Then again, a lot of the people weren't much bothering with words; looks, sensual dance, teasing touches, and acts that would have been illegal in public on Earth peppered the bazaar area. Inoae watched them with blank eyes, but she leaned heavily against Bates. She wasn't used to being around so many people, do so many different things all at once, especially people she didn't know at all and couldn't possibly keep track of all of them at once. He could feel the tension in her in the perfect stillness and the way she took one sip of her drink every two minutes, precisely. Apparently two minutes a sip was exactly "slowly". ,, They been there almost a half-hour before someone finally decided to broach the aura of intimidating personal space Bates exuded. They were a pair, a petite auburn-haired woman with dozens of small gems somehow studded into her skin, making patterns over her face and down her arms. She was dressed in a cream-colored tunic sheer enough that anyone could see she wasn't wearing anything else. She had a jeweled bracelet on her left wrist with a delicate silver chain dangling from it, leading up to the ornate choker on the dark-haired woman walking a step behind her. ,, Unlike the jeweled woman, she was tall and dressed more conservatively than just about anyone Bates had seen other than his own team. A brightly threaded long-sleeve tunic and pants that reminded him of Indian styles, paired with matching high-heeled leather boots and gloves, both tooled in the same patterns as the cloth. Her hair was intricately braided and studded with tiny, freshly picked flowers. They were a stunningly beautiful matched pair, but no one approached them, not even the overly-enthusiastic "street-greeters" as Bates had privately named them, as they made their way over to the bar. ,, "My, my," the red-head said in an exotically accented Ancient, "but she is the precious one, isn't she? So well behaved." She smiled, nodded to Inoae while speaking only to Bates, "So well trained, mmm?" ,, Bates tensed and Inoae immediately shifted from watching the general area with her blank stare to watching the red-haired woman with her total-focus intensity. He put an arm around her waist, making sure she didn't jump up and assault the woman because of a wrong word or move by the unknown woman. "I suppose so," he replied neutrally, then remembered that he was supposed to be 'mingling'. He smiled and gave her a friendly nod. "My name is Leon. Who might you be?" ,, "Gabrell," she said as she slid onto the seat on the other side of Inoae. Bates counted down a few numbers in his mind to keep from moving Inoae away from their new 'friend'. Gabrell waved her braceleted arm and the still-unnamed dark haired woman stepped forward. "This is my Lobelia." The two women smiled at each other, an intimate look that would have had Curtis flushed and stammering if he were there, and Gabrell turned that smile on Bates. "She's still in training," Gabrell wound the chain connecting the two of them until Lobelia was pulled up tight against her; she ran a hand over her cheek and Lobelia turned her face into the touch, kissing Gabrell's palm. "We've been making progress, but, well, you know how it can be with exceptional students." ,, The sharp crack of skin on skin rang out at the bar, momentarily startling the wildlife gathered there. Lobelia took in a peaked breath and tried to nuzzle against Gabrell's hand again, the red welt of the slap already turning coming out on her tanned cheek. Gabrell gave Bates a bright smile, "They need challenges to bring out their full potential." She reached out to Inoae, stopping just short of actually touching the blonde. "You've done such a wonderful job with this one. Perhaps we could share for the evening? Exchange techniques?"
  23. Bates eyed the two women, wary of another outburst and still a bit creeped out by Evana cuddling ice wolves. The things you think and say when you work for Stargate Command..... He reached behind himself and prodded Inoae back into the room proper. "Amara, let Dr. Bannon check you over." Better her than me. He stepped over to where Goro had been observing them all from a safe distance. "Doc," he nodded to the man and lifted himself up onto the Lantean medical table. ,, Inoae followed suit on the table nearest Bannon, edging her way to the table with as much distance between Dr. Fitzgerald and Captain Evana as she could manage and still actually reach the examination bed. She waited for Dr. Bannon to perform whatever medical examination was being required by the Atlantis Expedition Leader Dr. Weir, watching the female-pretty male with the an expression just as inscrutable as his own.
  24. Inoae stepped up to her commanding officer and the unwelcome food that was draping himself over the soldier and constricting his arms - not as unnacceptable a situation as when food had accosted a female of the hive during the storm on the hive's planet, but Captain Bates clearly did not like the food's attention. She pinched the man's hands quickly at the pressure points she'd been shown during training; the muscles in his hands and up his arms went almost numb and lost their strength just long enough for Inoae to unwind him from Bates and step between the two of them. ,, The man blinked at the seemingly sudden appearance of a very pretty blonde woman right between him and the dark-skinned newcomer to the party planet; he laughed and engulfed her in another exuberant hug. "Welcome to Kastar, beautiful!" He grabbed her hands and kissed both palms, then kissed her on each cheek. "Drink, eat, dance, and make love! We are here to bring you every pleasure life can offer!" He'd either missed or was purposely ignoring the blank look from the blonde and quickly set on to the next of the group. ,, Inoae scooted behind Bates, watching their overly enthusiastic welcoming committee make the rounds. To most onlookers she might seem only shy, but those of the team that had spent time with her easily understood the unnatural stillness that was her panic-and-fear mode.
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