Z-909's Log Notes

909 “looks” up at him. There’s still dried, cracked blood smears around her eyes, and her pupils were mostly clouded over. Still, her expression was soft, even if restrained.

“Yeah. You’re an idiot. But you’re my idiot. And I’m your idiot, too.”

909 reaches up to ruffle Zeef’s hair, then she closes her eyes to give them a rest.

“She wanted me to guide her to the crystal. I don’t know who she is. Definitely not Urbanshade.”

She rests her head against Zeef’s chest, her body worn out and exhausted. She let out a yawn that ended in a small smile.

"Yeah... I got that she wasn't one of ours when I saw the thing on her outer wear. I'm just glad I got away from the two who had me before anything else happened."

Hey Zeef that's going to worry people, don't mention that.

She lets it sink in as he cleans her face, grateful to be free from the caked feeling.

“There were… two others who had you? What do you mean by that?”

There’s plenty of concern in her voice. Both for the safety of her friend and… well, the safety of Z-13. She’s never met the latter, though in a roundabout way he’s the reason why she’s here, isn’t he?

“I don’t, hrgh, I don’t blame you for it. I would do it again if. If it. Helps assure you. Hh. A-and if it’s the only way.”

Her tail thudded heavily on the ground in a move of venting out the pain of the medical work and the muscle contractions around the wound.

He lets out an annoyed sigh, tightly tying the final bandage around the wound. Being called her best friend out loud hurt... But at least now she'd be safe, at least until he's returned.

"Just because I'm an idiot who only thinks about what I'm told doesn't make it your fault for all of this... If that woman told you anything, by the way, you should let me know. If I know what she's after I can make sure she won't have any interest in either of us."

Hopefully, at least.

909 “looks” up at him. There’s still dried, cracked blood smears around her eyes, and her pupils were mostly clouded over. Still, her expression was soft, even if restrained.

“Yeah. You’re an idiot. But you’re my idiot. And I’m your idiot, too.”

909 reaches up to ruffle Zeef’s hair, then she closes her eyes to give them a rest.

“She wanted me to guide her to the crystal. I don’t know who she is. Definitely not Urbanshade.”

She rests her head against Zeef’s chest, her body worn out and exhausted. She let out a yawn that ended in a small smile.

If he were to put her down she would cling onto him tightly, holding him to her as she would finally feel comfortable enough to let out some of the pain she’s felt. Her face would bury into his shoulder or neck as at last hot tears wettened her cheeks— though this ended in a hiss as it further irritated her eye wounds.

"Of course I did... I didn't intend to leave at all. Base called me back, I didn't have a choice."

They could do so at any time now too. He doesn't have his radio at all, he doesn't know how to give any sort of report now... They'll call him back eventually, one way or another.

Finding what remaining medical supplies he can 479 sits down with Alena in his lap, working slowly on getting the gunshot wound cared for.

“I don’t, hrgh, I don’t blame you for it. I would do it again if. If it. Helps assure you. Hh. A-and if it’s the only way.”

Her tail thudded heavily on the ground in a move of venting out the pain of the medical work and the muscle contractions around the wound.

“I’m not your enemy.”

She hissed these words loudly as he retreated. He really was leaving her with little choice, though. Perhaps she should have shot him. She wouldn’t be able to take better aim now, though, but still she raised her gun again. She could at least try to aim for the legs— often not as protected from behind.

But something tells her he isn’t much of a threat, either. It was apparent he had been here for the fish girl. He wouldn’t be retreating if she wasn’t. That speaks more to Osprey. These were people in need of saving, people who could still be helped. People that weren’t yet the monsters rumoured here.

Tch. She wasn’t here to play saviour. Not yet, anyway.

She lowers her gun and lingers in the dead-end of a room. She’ll stay here until she feels that 909 and 479 were far enough away that her leaving the room wouldn’t threaten them. Oh well. A guide would have been nice, but she was more than capable to do this mission on her own.

Meanwhile, in Alena’s frenzy it was hard for her to focus on the vague black and white shapes around her. She was not used to this much activity from her spines. She felt the walls, looking for a corner that she could turn into to be out of sight. Soon she felt the empty space, turned and—

SPLASH!

Even if she fought against him he'd be trying to run away, back the way they came to her old room for the moment. Sure they could be found again, but there are supplies there, he could help patch her up further if he finds them.

If he were to put her down she would cling onto him tightly, holding him to her as she would finally feel comfortable enough to let out some of the pain she’s felt. Her face would bury into his shoulder or neck as at last hot tears wettened her cheeks— though this ended in a hiss as it further irritated her eye wounds.

She waited for a moment, lingering, then stepped back. It was hard to see enough as it was with her vision clouded with black spots. She didn’t need unwanted trouble that a single Urbanshade Staff could bring. She could always kill him later, anyway— when she has what she wants.

Besides… he’s Z-Class, and a Z-Class of this level of intelligence could be worked with. Saved, even. She’d just need to be careful.

Within a few moments 479 figures he can likely carry his friend, and ends up hurling the heavy flashlight at the strangers head, turning tail to grab 909 and begin running off. If he gets shot, at least she can keep going while he acts as a human shield.

“I’m not your enemy.”

She hissed these words loudly as he retreated. He really was leaving her with little choice, though. Perhaps she should have shot him. She wouldn’t be able to take better aim now, though, but still she raised her gun again. She could at least try to aim for the legs— often not as protected from behind.

But something tells her he isn’t much of a threat, either. It was apparent he had been here for the fish girl. He wouldn’t be retreating if she wasn’t. That speaks more to Osprey. These were people in need of saving, people who could still be helped. People that weren’t yet the monsters rumoured here.

Tch. She wasn’t here to play saviour. Not yet, anyway.

She lowers her gun and lingers in the dead-end of a room. She’ll stay here until she feels that 909 and 479 were far enough away that her leaving the room wouldn’t threaten them. Oh well. A guide would have been nice, but she was more than capable to do this mission on her own.

Meanwhile, in Alena’s frenzy it was hard for her to focus on the vague black and white shapes around her. She was not used to this much activity from her spines. She felt the walls, looking for a corner that she could turn into to be out of sight. Soon she felt the empty space, turned and—

SPLASH!

Not that Alena could see that, not clearly anyway. But she could pick up from their weak electrical pulses, and the noise, that it was now or never. Gathering her strength, she did her best to move to a new position or location, preferably one behind Zeef and into the next room.

But she lingered near the door, wondering if she could in turn help Zeef out of this situation, too.

“Protocol, huh? They’ll be hearing of this.”

"Who'll be hearing about this? Bet you nothing would come of it anyway."

He needs to buy Alena time to get away... If she got away but he ends up dead, it'd be fine. He could come down quickly after reporting this other. Their signs where always on the suit, not the armor. Even if he can't see what it is exactly, he knows she's not UrbanShade... For now, however, he'll play along.

A grin crosses his face, the only indication of any emotion. What man fears death when he's faced it hundreds of times and came back right as rain?

"You know someone's bound to survive a shot to the jaw. You should aim somewhere better."

Like his forehead. Like the flesh behind the plate.

Remove it.

Take it off.

She waited for a moment, lingering, then stepped back. It was hard to see enough as it was with her vision clouded with black spots. She didn’t need unwanted trouble that a single Urbanshade Staff could bring. She could always kill him later, anyway— when she has what she wants.

Besides… he’s Z-Class, and a Z-Class of this level of intelligence could be worked with. Saved, even. She’d just need to be careful.

“Now will you get that damned light out of my eyes?”

She was, however, surprised to learn that a Z-class was assigned a position such as his. So not only are their experiments horrid, but the experiments are disposable soldiers? Strange, but makes sense. Pity twisted in her, but that was all she could afford right now.

"This is just procedure..." It's so not. "Reduces risk and all."

Reaching out for the card he makes a move as if to put the light down, using it to try and cover his overshooting of the card to grab and yank on Osprey's wrist to bring her as close to him as possible. Other courses of action had come to mind, but most of them had down sides. With this one, at least he'd likely be in the way of any harm.

Not that Alena could see that, not clearly anyway. But she could pick up from their weak electrical pulses, and the noise, that it was now or never. Gathering her strength, she did her best to move to a new position or location, preferably one behind Zeef and into the next room.

But she lingered near the door, wondering if she could in turn help Zeef out of this situation, too.

“Protocol, huh? They’ll be hearing of this.”

Or he’s just, ya know, doing his job, she thought. But she couldn’t really afford to not comply with him at the moment.

Osprey flinched from the light being shone in her eyes, and a look of frustration settles over her. Luckily, her team had fake covers registered with Urbanshade— though if more thoroughly inspected they would be easily seen through.

“Urbanshade Inspector Hellis, ID number UBI-0668H.

909 gave a suspicious glance over to her, but said nothing. She started trying to inch her way closer to Zeef, though froze when she heard the safety switch of a gun flipped and pointed at her.

"Understand that if you're impersonating UrbanShade staff you will be disposed of... Z-479, under orders to only report directly to my superior, Ma'am."

"You wouldn't happen to have your ID on you, would you? Inspectors are meant to carry them for situations like these."

“Now will you get that damned light out of my eyes?”

She was, however, surprised to learn that a Z-class was assigned a position such as his. So not only are their experiments horrid, but the experiments are disposable soldiers? Strange, but makes sense. Pity twisted in her, but that was all she could afford right now.

Meanwhile, Z-909 leaned heavily against a wall with her wrists cuffed behind her. Earlier’s adrenaline had shielded her from most of the pain from the bullet wound, but now that some time has passed the contractions were starting to settle in. Little care had been given to the wound; but it was at least bandaged. At this point she considered hoarding med kits. Well, she would have to get away from Osprey, first.

She had already found the key card to advance a while ago, though never tipped Osprey off to it. She listens as the woman grew agitated rummaging through drawers and lockers, wondering if it had been a good idea to hold her back. What had 909 been hoping for, anyway? For someone to come along and help her? Right. That didn’t seem very likely to her.

Osprey's rummaging can cover some of his approach, but not all. At least with that he knows where to point his light before he flicks it on. He'd have to keep the light in her eyes until further notice.

"Freeze. Identify yourself with your code name or prisoner identification number. I won't hesitate to send you back to base if you don't comply."

Or he’s just, ya know, doing his job, she thought. But she couldn’t really afford to not comply with him at the moment.

Osprey flinched from the light being shone in her eyes, and a look of frustration settles over her. Luckily, her team had fake covers registered with Urbanshade— though if more thoroughly inspected they would be easily seen through.

“Urbanshade Inspector Hellis, ID number UBI-0668H.

909 gave a suspicious glance over to her, but said nothing. She started trying to inch her way closer to Zeef, though froze when she heard the safety switch of a gun flipped and pointed at her.

(We don’t get enough BVM content.. show us the boy.)

@oc-ask-bloges Nebulon!

They look over to the sound, an odd feeling of mother authority coming off them. They seem to perk every so slightly, though tilt their head in curiosity.

It curiously and cautiously wiggles out from behind the wall, staring up at the other with wide eyes full of wonder and recognition.

The sense of mother authority is felt. There is an emptiness inside the tiny mass, but all too soon it is overcome with a feeling long missed.

It flies to Nebulon’s leg and wraps it’s tiny tendrils around them. It cries out small quivering whimpers. This is a scary place, with hurting people.

They cradle the child in their arms. They hate seeing their hive in distress.

It’s only natural for something to want to protect they’re own. Not many species like seeing each other in distress.

“What are you doing so far out?”

“M…m…eeeeee”

Meteor was a bit of a weird one.

“ ‘ock.”

Rock was close to enough.

Then, it almost seemed to deflate in their arms. “Where…?”

“We are all closer to Home.”

They continue to pet the baby while speaking.

“Voice.”

But it could not elaborate.

It looked up at Nebulon, blinking its own eyes one at a time. “Oo?”

Maybe they should make speaking classes or something….

They wonder if the children would be willing to teach the hive basic speech. The humans seem to understand them, just fine after all.

Perhaps he has been around Sebastian a little too much.

“This way.”

After leading him down a few corridors, Watch’r paused and craned his head. Then, he looks back at 479 with that charitable, but unnerving grin. Somehow the cat manages to tip his top hat.

"Thank you.... I'll... Well, you'll probably find me with how strange you are, won't you. Alright then. Good luck on... Whatever it is cats do."

He gives a slight nod in return for the hat tip, heading onward into the rooms beyond. Disconnecting his holster from its harness 479 raises his flashlight, holding the two objects one over the other. If he's lucky, whoever has his friend won't be able to see past the light after he turns it on; better to wait to do that, otherwise he might give himself away when he doesn't need to.

Meanwhile, Z-909 leaned heavily against a wall with her wrists cuffed behind her. Earlier’s adrenaline had shielded her from most of the pain from the bullet wound, but now that some time has passed the contractions were starting to settle in. Little care had been given to the wound; but it was at least bandaged. At this point she considered hoarding med kits. Well, she would have to get away from Osprey, first.

She had already found the key card to advance a while ago, though never tipped Osprey off to it. She listens as the woman grew agitated rummaging through drawers and lockers, wondering if it had been a good idea to hold her back. What had 909 been hoping for, anyway? For someone to come along and help her? Right. That didn’t seem very likely to her.