sanctuaryrpg | Entries tagged with eric bittle

Leonard Snart had seen a lot in the last few years. First Barry and his speed, causing so many problems in Central City (and at least two trips to prison he could have done without), then the Waverider and the time travelling part of it. Truly, waking up after his fight with Mick into a strange place, where he was told he was in 'quarantine'? He was at the stage of shrugging and just rolling with it.

He absorbed as much as he could about his new surroundings in the time in quarantine. After all, what was the point in wasting it? Maps, general information about who was there, anything was devoured in an attempt to make the best of it. Because he was so good at it, and all this was was somewhere new to rob blind.

His bruises had pretty much faded by the time they opened the door. That was fine. The outfit was basic, but then, it was most of the time. He could deal. It wouldn't take long to find some decent clothes.

With his usual swagger in place, and a faint half smile plastered on, Captain Cold stepped out into the main area, surveying his surroundings. It may look like he was being casual about it, but he was taking every single thing in. First order of business - explore every single square inch of this place that he could. Firstly to check for hidey holes that could be used; secondly to check that they were truly stuck here; thirdly... there was bound to be something to steal. The technology was beyond anything even on the Waverider. Fencing it could be more of a problem, but it was nothing he hadn't worked with before. Was there a black market in place? If not, it could be a great little sideline.

Opportunities. That's what he had. If he was away from his friends (and who knew who was actually his friend right now), opportunities was the next best thing.

[Len's in full on charm mode right now. He's as approachable and as curious as he ever will be.]

cora_hale

Cora had been on this...this space station for a day and it'd been one of the weirdest days of her life.

First she'd gone to sleep in her comfy room in the pack-house, only to wake up trapped in some kind of weird quarantine cell. That'd been an awesome experience. Nothing like being stripped out of your own clothes, put into a set of scrubs - and if she ever found out who'd done that she was going to take great pleasure in ripping off their fingers - and left trapped like a rat in a lab while being driven slowly insane with a recorded message.

Then, when whoever was in charge of this place had finally opened the door to her cell, Cora had stalked out into the main area outside only to be confronted with an honest to god, actual alien.

She hadn't meant to meet any aliens at all, but she'd been staring up at the vast ceiling when she managed to walk bodily into the hulking, heavily scaled creature, been scared stupid, screamed and let her fangs drop which in turn scared the creature who then started to make a weird keening noise which was apparently its species distress call by virtue of a dozen seriously pissed off people all chasing her out of the area she'd just walked into.

Cora had run at full tilt down random corridors, taking turn after turn to lose the mob, eventually holing up in some kind of marketplace behind some foul smelling tanks. She'd watched her pursuers go running past and then took off in the other direction, not stopping until she reached a quiet area away from everything.

The small freak out she'd had while she was tucked into an alcove in that deserted place had left her exhausted and it was all she could do to haul herself to her assigned quarters and collapse into the small but functional bed.

Now it was morning on the second day and she felt a little better. Her original nightclothes had apparently been washed and stored neatly in closet in her little apartment. She was grateful for that at least. Something familiar. Something home. Booty shorts were probably not the best exploring clothes, she conceded, but the tank top would work and she slipped it on, tying the drawstrings on her standard issue scrub pants.

She grabbed the little comms thing and the tablet and stashed them in her pockets before setting out to explore the place she was apparently stuck in for the near future.

[OOC: Find Cora out and about on the station exploring. She's going to be on her guard but she won't be unapproachable. Open forever!]

sanctuaryrpgmods

There were no flashing lights, no alarms. The doors to the quarantine chambers simply opened, the whoosh of seals breaking was the only fanfare.

Quarantine was on a quiet level of the station, a gently pulsing light set into the wall leading the chamber's temporary residents out into the station proper. Outside, station officials wandered by but paid no particular attention to the newcomers; new arrivals were nothing new to them, just a fact of life on Sanctuary. New people arrived in the chambers, station staff logged them, and the computers arranged everything else. So they went about their business, eyes glued to the screens they held.

Of course the newcomers weren't aware of any of this. Anyone who called out to the station staff was greeted with a wan smile and directed toward one of the many terminal screens lining the walls of the large open space between the central tower and the rest of the station.

The terminal screens asked for a fingerprint before offering any additional information. Their names flashed up with a map to their new home in the living quarters and some basic information on the currency contained in the chip in their hand and what it might buy them. A brief explanation of the silver communication unit followed, and then the news of the past twenty-four hours played. War on planets in a neighbouring system, the weather on a vacation world, sports scores for a game that seems a cross between lacrosse, hockey, and quidditch. Nothing of use, of course, nothing that could get them off the planet.

The quiet entrance to the living quarters was on one side of the atrium, and the sounds of a bustling marketplace that could not be contained came from a much wider opening on the other. People of all shapes, colours, and species walked through the space along with station officials and technicians using their tablet like screens, dark uniformed security officers chatting as they strolled their patrols.

The station carried on obliviously while the newcomers watched, each with only their credit chip, a place to live, and a basic outfit. Clearly that was all the welcome they were to expect; what happened next would be up to them.

[[Gathering post and opening of Sanctuary RPG. Put in your characters coming out their quarantine]]

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Sanctuary RPG Main Comm

Entries tagged with eric bittle

There was strange, and there was STRANGE

Stranger than fiction.

And the station opens...

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September 2016

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