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/rp/ - Roleplay

Cutie Mark Crusader Clubhouse
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[#canon][#currently Closed]

She turned the music up on her device, which sent a wireless signal to the slim device that was placed around the back of her head. Immediately it shook with the power of the music flooding her ears.

Beneath her hands warnings were flashing, but she ignored them as she maneuvered her ship through the wreckage and cold rock.

"...that's the price you paaay, leave behind your heartache, cast awaaay..."

A large piece of asteroid floated out from from behind some of the wreckage, so she threw it in reverse, then maneuvered to the left to avoid it.

"...'Cause you're a natural, a bleeding heart of stone..."

The heel of her boot tapped out the rhythm on the floor and her long ponytail swayed. When the music ended she hit replay, then reached forward and pushed the comm button twice to let her shipmate know that they were almost there.

Of course, she could have just spoken into the speakers to let him know, but there was no way she was going to throw off her groove like that.


The cockpit speakers hissed into life as the far too close to the microphone bellowing of her compatriot thoroughly threw off the groove.
"Am ah really nae even worth a bloody word 'r two? Just a quick comm burst?"


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She sighs and hunches her shoulders in a 'really?' gesture, before moving the device down to around her neck.

This time when she pushes the comm, she holds it down.

"Guh! You threw off my groove!"


"Well maybe if ye had thae common decency tae comm me instead of this bloody double tap shite I wouldnae haftae!"
Targeris stepped away from the comm panel, grumbling his way over to his workbench on his stubby little legs. He snagged a horn of ale off the writing desk next to him as he strolled, running his fingers along his latest creation with the vaguest hint of a smile cracking from within his bushy and long red braided beard.
After fawning over his pet project for a few seconds he grumbled his way towards the corner, depositing the horn on a shelf as he stepped into a circle marked out in yellow and black warning tape. He carefully aligned his feet to the marks on the floor and slammed a button on the wall, causing a large exoskeletal harness to slowly descend over him rather loudly. The harness closed around his shoulders and hips, running along his arms and legs as the machine guided bolts on the harness to their corresponding implants. With a loud, high pitched whine the harness was secured, and he was ready.


She laughs and pushes the comm again.

"When did I tell you I ever had any decency?"

Another warning flashed to irritate her eyes. She swiped it off the screen and pushed the ship forward just a bit further to where there was less rocks and more wreckage, then parked it.

"Alriight" she says to herself.

"Time to make that moola."


He slammed his fist into the comm panel. "My apologies fer assumin' ye were decent folk."
He stomped over to his locker, snagging a well worn yellow and black vac suit from the coat rack as he went, throwing it over himself as he went and grabbing, a power drill from an adjacent table, began securing the suit to his implants. He cracked open the locker and shifted three objects over to the table. After fitting one of them, a long cylinder with two canisters on either side mounted to an elongated pentagonal base, to a slot on his left forearm, he hefted a power drill in the other hand and secured it to the appropriate port, repeating the process for the opposite arm with a similar device. The third object he secured around his waste on a tool belt, letting the weathered eightgun hang from his hip in a cracked leather holster.
He thumped his way over to the comm panel, slamming it with his closed fist again. "Now let's get paid, shall we?"


She cruises the ship to a crawl and threads her way through a couple of chunks of old hull that were stuck in a gravitational dance with one another. Beyond them was the main chunk of what was once the ship.

Pieces of debri and and junk floated about, and for a moment she wondered how many being had perished in the wreck. But it hurt to think about that, so she pushed the though aside and focused on getting her own ship as close as she safely could without putting herself in the path of more asteroids or large chunks of metal.

Once she felt like they were close enough, she pushed the comm.

"Alright, go ahead Targeris."

She knew she didn't need to tell him to be careful, but the urge was still there.

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