#simon revven

The Dominion main cast, as it stands at the end of 2016.

Here’s to looking forward at what the next year holds.

(the letter is clumsily taped to the outside of a hotel room door)

Hey prick.

I was chatting up that blonde for two hours, and then you swoop in, all hot shit in your shiny little uniform all your jingly little medals, and snake her away from me.

Thanks, mate. I keyed your Uniblade. Enjoy driving around with a dick on your hood. Ya earned it.

- Simon Revven, Greatest Esper in All the Cosmos

Simon Revven by froopoo.

Isabella

Lightreach Mission, Ellivar

"What happened to you?”

Izzy put forth her question and frowned, her eyes narrowing as she glared at the man in front of her. They were in a back alley, a few doors down from the local bar in Lightreach. He was slumped against a nearby wall and was, quite clearly, passed out and sleeping off the day’s drinking.

She furrowed her brow and checked her Datacron again. This couldn’t be him. It couldn’t be. Only one way to find out.

"Hey," she began, nudging the man with her foot, "it’s time to wake up now. C’mon." The man fidgeted in his sleep, barely affected. Frustrated, the nudge turned into a kick, eliciting about the same response.

Isabella sighed. I don’t have time for this, she mused to herself as she rummaged through the pockets of her duster. Her hands darted from pocket to pocket until she finally found what she was looking for in a pouch hanging from her belt. A small medical hypo. Stimulant.

She crouched down, took a deep breath, and jammed the needle into the man’s chest.

His reaction was instant.

The man’s eyelids exploded open in shock as he let out a pained, surprised yell. He darted up from the ground, taking a handful of steps before stumbling and falling into a nearby puddle.

"Good, you’re awake."

The man rolled over, sitting himself up in the puddle and wiping long strands of damp jet black hair out of his face. “An what the fuck is you problem, lady?!” He yelled at Izzy rather indignantly until he actually glanced at her face. His relaxed just a bit and added “… and what can I do to fix it?” He waggled his eyebrows a bit and cracked a wry smile.

Izzy rolled her eyes. “I’m looking for a man-“

"And lady, did you ever find one,” the stranger retorted.

Izzy glared. “I’m looking for a man named Simon Revven. Please tell me that he is literally anyone other than you.”

With a great deal of effort the man stood up and managed to do a rather shoddy and poorly executed bow. “Simon Revven, the Greatest Esper in All the Cosmos. At your service.”

Izzy just stared. “You can’t be serious.”

Simon scoffed, sounding rather offended. “I’m sorry, lady, but do I look like the type of bloke that isn’t serious?” He said this, devoid of all irony, mere seconds before looking down and remembering that he had a syringe still sticking out of his chest.

Izzy just stared at him blankly for a moment, thinking of all of the life decisions she had made that led her to this moment. She sighed heavily. “I’m looking for freelancers interested in work and your name came up. Looking at you I can’t imagine why, but it did. Please tell me that you’re far more competent than you look, because frankly you look like an utter moron.”

With a groan Simon grabbed the syringe and yanked it out with a gasp, pointing at her with his free hand as he did so. “Yes, and you have heard of me? All good things, I hope. Feel free to go on endlessly about what part was your fa-“

She took a few steps forward and pointed an angry finger right at Simon’s face. “I will knock you out again.” Isabella turned on her heels and began to strode away. “Come, let’s go for a walk. We’ve got a lot to talk about.”

* * *

Deandra

Housing Plot

Twenty paces from the front door she stopped. In the middle of the yard, free space all around her.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. In, and out.

Deandra Byrne opened her eyes and unsheathed her sword, firmly grasping the hilt with both hands. She spread her legs apart and turned her body to the side, adopting a fighting stance. Breath in, and out.

She took a step forward and brought the blade down diagonally, the sword’s weight doing most of the work for her. The blade cut through the air in a way that Deandra found oddly comforting in it’s familiarity.

She cracked a smile. She couldn’t help it.

Forward again, blade crossing parallel to the ground. Forward, bringing the blade down. Muscle memory started to kick in as Deandra started to imagine the battlefield around her. Sidestep, parry. Step back, parry. Forward, thrust.

Deandra kept imaging combat around her. Sweat ran down her brow and she breathed heavily. Step back, parry. turn, thrust. Step back, parry, lunge forward, thru-

She let out a yelp of pain as she collapsed to the ground. Deandra dropped the sword and she rolled onto her side, clutching her right knee. The pain had come suddenly, as it sometimes does, and the joint locked up. She tried to stand up, but only succeeded in stumbling and falling back down.

Deandra was on her knees, hands firmly planted on the ground. She stared at the grass and sighed.

Isabella: "I don’t think I’ve heard of any of those bands. I’m more of a classical orchestra person. It’s soothing. Lord knows I need more of that in my life”.

Addison: "Yeah, we didn’t really get Exile stations back home because… well, you know. Because. Why, are they any good? Ooh! Can you give me recommendations?"

Simon: "The Rock Crushers were really only good when they had their original lineup. Oh, and Pumera Riot? Great music to have playing during sex.

"…

"What?

Provided that it’s coming from a direct superior, both Deandra and Ash generally will follow any orders as given. This is mainly because of their backgrounds in the Legions and the ICI respectively, both organizations with a very well established chain of command. Deandra would generally voice her own opinion or objections when free to, while Ash just does as he’s told.

Ash’s supervisors are fond of him for a reason.

Isabella use to be much the same way, thanks to her upbringing and schooling, but as work for the Settlement Authority dragged on and ground to a halt orders from out-of-touch bosses far removed from the problem started to seem less and less worth following. Hence her current predicament.

Addison’s track record with doing as she’s told is fairly spotty. Depending on who’s doing the telling and what’s they’re asking of her the results can range anywhere from resentment, pouting, outright defiance, doing the thing and possibly, in certain cases, doing the thing with her putting actual effort and her heart into it. That last one is mainly contingent on how much things line up with her own wants.

For Simon Revven, being the glory hound and narcissist that he is, a lot of this kind of thing comes down to how things can ultimately benefit him, mostly in the gold and “not getting shot to death” departments. He’s a wild card, but he can be trusted to carry something out if things turn out well for him in the end.

As far as Furbbmace is concerned the only boss of him is him. For the most part he does what he want because he can. Anything resembling him following orders he simply claims to have been because he just felt like it, he was bored, it was really his idea all along, and just about any other way he can spin and distort it.

As I’ve gotten this in more than one ask let’s do about half the cast…

Isabella Sinclair has always been the type to curl up in a warm place with a book and a nice cup of tea when the weather turns sour. That’s a luxury that she hasn’t had much as of late, but her first instinct is still to hole up in a place of comfort.

Her sister Addison, meanwhile, goes the opposite route. When she was a child on Cassus Addie always saw the rain as an excuse to go outside and frolic, splashing in puddles and getting soaked all the way to her undergarments. She’s grown up with a fondness for the smell of rain and the urge to be outside to enjoy it hasn’t gone away.