recursal/Fanatic-Fandom huggingface dataset:
Day 1 evening - Life story

Dillon had his hands in his pockets and a slight slouch as they walked. "Well... I've got nothing urgent. Just a few things I could use. A better small bag than this and a holster are mostly what I'm looking for... I'll see what else I think of, or what catches my eye..."

~

*“Talk to us, Dillon. What makes a good looking young man like you tick?”*

As they all walked together, Dillon had a slight nuetral grin while he spoke. It felt nice to be able to talk to or just be with someone so friendly and willing.

Though she was much more... 'much' in general, Jacy couldn't help but remind him of his late girlfriend. It was a sad thought, but he was full of sad thoughts he was used to neatly tucking away.

He shrugged. "Well... I grew up on Ariel." He left a small pause, knowing that alone explained a decent bit. "I have no idea where I was born, but when I was, I was born with all kinds of health defects... Weak heart, weak lungs... I'm here against a lot of odds. When I was maybe four, my parents took me to the best hospital they could and... Vanished after. No idea if they died, or just... Couldn't afford what I needed, but I don't even remember them." His tone wasn't sad or sorrowful in the least. He was simply calm, almost like he was just happy to be asked.

"Long story short, I was adopted by their head researcher.... I'd say I grew up rich and spoiled, but how spoiled can you be while you're bedridden for most of your childhood? Between my health issues, I did what I could... I learned how to cook, I learned a few languages, a few instruments... Kinda by default, I picked up on the basics of the medical field..."

He stopped there. He'd been perfectly willing to reveal that much, but was hesitant to fill the gap from then to now. He settled on a sort of compromise.

"I decided I'd rather live life in the present than worry about the long term.... Not being sure about your own lifespan... I dunno." He trailed off awkwardly.
Better Late Than Never

Aello stopped to tie her shoe as the Captain and others entered the Saloon.

When Aello entered the Saloon she noticed the Captain already found the dentist. After ordering a drink she slowly approached the area to see Dorian checking out Jacy's teeth. She sipped her whisky slowly as she seemed curious about Dorian's work. One customer tried to make a pass at her but she brushed him off as she focused on the dentist.
Here's how it is ...

Reread or catch up on the adventures of the crew and passengers of the Lunar Veil. The posts archive here are in (the best of my abilities) put into chronological order so there may be variation from here to the OW Board.

1. And We're Back!
2. New Crew
3. New and Improved!
4. A Wild Companion Appears!
5. Desperate Measures
6. Medicines, Mistakes, and Misdemeanors
7. Like a Crouching Cat
8. High Noon at the Lunar Veil Cargo Bay
9. Lift Off
10. In the black
11. Like Silk
12. Phoenix Star Skyplex
13. Let's Go Shopping!
14. The Saguaro Sunset Inn
15. Lockdown (2021)
16. Boo To You Too!
17. Taking Off
18. Who Ya Gonna Call?
19. Tea, Earl Grey, Hot ... and spicy!
20. 14 Carrot Gold
21. Welcome and Wagons

\*\*NOT YET POSTED\*\*

Gone with the Solar Winds
A Short Retirement (Day 1)

Now this was the life, Roose thought to himself as he stretched himself out in his chair. The sun on my face, the sea at my toes, plenty of drinks and food to keep my company. Why a fella'd get quite use to this kind of treatment coming from New Kash. He smiled, not at anything in particular, but simply the fact that his time here had been going so well.

Feeling a presence darken his shoulder the old man peeked out from the straw hat he had bought for himself at a shop with too many flashy colors for his taste. He hadn't particularly wanted to but it seemed that every other old geezer on this rock had managed to get their head burned and he wasn't about to follow their example. Greeting him from beneath the brim was a younger man (well everyone was younger these days) with the resort uniform on and an annoyed look on his face.

"Excuse me sir, are you aware there is a strict no fishing policy at this resort?" He then motioned to the line extending from the makeshift pole beside the old man. Roose's lack of immediate response seemed to give him a green light to keep piling it up, "I think you'll also find that it's also against policy to remove fish from their natural habitat for what I can only assume by your cooler a culinary endeavor. Sir if I may ask, what ship did you fly in on? I will have to report you and the vessel to our administrators."

Roose again just gave him a blank stare, reading the youngster as best he could before saying in as grizzled a tone he could muster given he hadn't had a drop to drink the last hour, "You saying you don't know who I am?"

The young man crossed his arms, aggravated, "No sir I do not now if you would pleas-" and with a sudden strike to his groin the young man collapsed. Roose tried to throw himself out of the chair but his recliner was too deep in for him to achieve that and he ended up sprawling out onto the sand beside him. Before the youngster could recover he had grabbed his cooler, his hat, and for a moment his fishing line before he threw that down onto the staff as well.

His new knee held up well in the chase as he hustled back to the shop, but he took a good amount of time recovering from his run when he got back into storage. Retirement was nice, but the old hunter decided that he wasn't quite ready to give up his wild streak just yet. And if nothing else he'd have to find a new spot since he was likely never welcome here again.
Careful Care

*"Good mornin' suh, how may we help yah?"*

Bolak glanced back towards Haddie and gave her a reassuring smile. He could not shake the fact that he was unnerved by her outburst of violence back the galley, but it was clear that it had been a visceral reaction based on past experience. He had met kids like her before, generally living on the streets where survival meant being quick and careful. One thing was for sure, if she did have parents on this ship they needed a bloody good talking to.

"The names Bolak my good doctor, I have arranged passage in this vessel with your Captain and alas," he waved his bloodied hand towards the man, "I have suffered a small wound in the galley that requires cleaning. Nothing too serious."

Haddie stepped forward then, a guilty look on her face and handed Dorian the fork. She gave Bolak a grateful smile and a shrug.

"It was an accident," Bolak assured, "My fault entirely." he was suddenly worried. He knew little of these people and the conditions under which the girl was kept here. There treatment could be the cause for her behaviour and he would be damned if he would give them an excuse to mistreat her further.

He looked up towards the woman and she peered back down at him, her almond eyes soft and considering. Bolak smothered a leap in his chest at the sight of her. A true beauty. Not for the likes of him. A lesson learned many years ago.

Silently he waited for the Doctors response.
Getting a tan, going snorkeling, and making sandcastles! (Day 1 Afternoon)

Life had been rough on the Lunar Veil and for the most part the dysfunctional family that was Haddie, Gill, Bolak and the ever present Mr Mok has kept their heads low and out of the action. After hiding from the Feds, staying out of sight had become a habit hard to break and outside of their duties Gill and Haddie had squirrelled themselves away in the merchants quarters playing cards and more importantly, learning to cheat.

"Come on Haddie!" Gill moaned as they waited for the half pint to emerge from the ship. Mr Mok had dropped into the local town soon after landing to pick up some holiday supplies and was now unhappily wearing shorts, tshirt and sandles, showing off his thin pasty frame. The fact that he refused to give up the stetson and thick grey socks simply added to the comical effect.

Bolak wore a wide brimmed sun hat, large black sunglasses and a summer shirt bright enough to make the sun squint. His shorts were ragged had the hems where he had cu them size and as usual a thick cigar was propped between his lips. Gill could not help but grin at the bucket and spade the Dwarf was carrying in his thick hands.

Gill himself wore a wet suit and carried a board purchased with his own hard earned wages, though Bolak had pitched in for the suit. They stood there for several more minutes before Haddie emerged with a face like thunder.

"You look a picture dear." Bolak beamed, which earned him a rude hand gesture from the fiery princess.

"Now now." Bolak chided, "See what you taught her Mr Mok? You are a bad influence on the young lady."

Mr Mok offered Bolak the same gesture before hefting the bags and marching off in the direction of the beach. Bolak shook his head and returned his attention to Haddie. She looked quite a sight in her pink swim suit and cute daisy flip flops. She carried a beach ball under one arm and held her satchel in the other.

"Do you have to take that everywhere?" Gill groaned as he saw the bag. She clutched it tighter and bobbed out her tongue. Her hair was tied back in a band and her freckled face plastered in sun cream. She looked miserable.

"Come on you two. Perhaps we'll catch up with some of the others at the beach. I feel we have been a little too reclusive of late."
Day 1 Afternoon - Click

The landing had been rough. Gill was glad he had been quick to eat the soup brought round by the taller dark haired man. He was still angry with Haddie for stealing from him, especially after he had been the only one to look out for them back in the galley, protecting Haddie the way he had.

The siblings sat on the side of the bed now in silence. From the sounds outside the crew had been busily disembarking and as usual the children found themselves pushed to the back of the adults minds in favour of more important, "grown up" matters.

Gill had banged on the door for a time. If they were on Santos they had places to be. Their father had been close friends with a trader on the outskirts of the docking district and he was their best hope of finding some sort of refuge. Old Joe was rough around the edges but his father had trusted the man, so he would too. Santos had been their last stop before they made their way voyage out into the black that last time. It was the last place they had felt safe.

Haddie was flipping the coins she had pinched from hand to hand. She was thinking things through. Gill had explained in no uncertain terms why it had been wrong to take the coins and now he guessed she was trying to decide whether she agreed with him. He head shot up suddenly as there came a click from the door. Someone had loosened the catch, but after a moment of them sitting there waiting it did not open.

"Who is it?" Gill called out, but there was no reply. Haddie jumped down from the bed.

"Wait." Gill called out but it was too late she was opening the door and... the hallway was empty. Gill stepped out and waited... nothing. Haddie ran back in and grabbed her satchel.

"Ok," Gill breathed, "We get out of here and find Old Joe, but first you give those back."

Haddie frowned down at the coins she had taken and held them to her chest. She closed her eye tightly and pursed her lips.

"Haddie." Gill warned and with that she was off scampering away to find Dillon. Gill made to go after her and thought better of it, instead he waited for several minutes after which she returned and waved her empty hands at him in answer to his unspoken question.

"Ok let's go." he hissed and they made their way out towards the cargo bay.
Confidental...

*“I can pay you in Alliance credits or the Captain will pay you less in coin. He does not know who I am before we met.” She moved away from his ear and pleaded with her eyes as only she could. Then she opened her mouth to his inspection as tears slowly ran down her cheek.*

From where Dorian stood, this wasn’t an issue. Most of his trade had been plied upon patients who withheld ident for any number of reasons, none of them his business. Considering the fact that the man he’d labelled “captain” and his nervous punk associate weren’t in a mood for introductions either, this encounter was rapidly filing itself under the heading “business as usual.”

The penlight flickered across the jagged landscape of the girl’s mouth. “Hmmm,” he said quietly. “Blunt force trauma...three teeth broken on the mandible...I’d crown those,” he muttered. When the tiny beam touched the roof of her mouth, he fought the urge to draw a breath. “Maxillary damage about the root line...several lacerations of the gum...some teeth extirpated, root and all. Looks like a total of four on the upper. Ma’am, you took quite a blow,” he said gently.

He pulled back, curious as to what the swelling of her jawline might tell. An old, hot anger simmered low in him as he searched the mottling skin for evidence of knuckles that might’ve performed this work. Finding none, Dorian resumed his visual examination. “Some discoloration there,” he noted of a few markings which peeked out slightly from behind her lower lip. Something about those...familiar. And, judging by the look in her eyes, something she’d prefer he didn’t blurt out in the presence of her companions. Dorian cut the light. “Ma’am,” he said quietly, “the teeth on your jaw are an easy repair. It’s the uppers,” he said with a gesture to his own cheek, “that are the most serious issue. I suspect you’ve also got some fracturing up there as well, but I won’t be certain until we take a bone-wave.”

A woman had detached herself from the patrons at the bar. She was a handsome creature, a bit taller than he, but then again, who wasn’t? Though she pretended to focus upon her drink when not warding off one drunken proposition or the next, he didn’t need a reader’s help to recognize a keen level of interest. None of this crew seemed at all stirred about her presence, so she must be familiar.

“Oliver,” Adler called out. Once the barkeep had joined them, he asked, “what’s the finest bottle you have?”

“That’s Reunification Small Batch.”

“Perhaps not,” Dorian said. “I need something smooth and potent that won’t burn like fire in her mouth.”

“Well,” Oliver wiped his hands on a towel as he spoke. “I got some Mudder’s Milk.”

“Perfect. *Qing qu chulai, hao ma*?” As the barman hustled away, Dorian returned to his patient. “I’m giving you this for the pain,” he offered. “Don’t swallow it. Just hold it in your mouth and tilt your head so that your teeth are soaking in it. It’ll keep things tolerable til we can do the procedure.” He lifted his head. “Captain,” Dorian said, “does your medbay have a bone-wave scanner?”
Day 1 Afternoon - An Offer - but you can refuse

*"I am a stupid mother facker, and I did not intend to endanger your crew."

He glanced at the two of them then at the fed before returning his gaze to the ground.

"It is all my fault."*

The Captain looked at Jacy, then back to Dmitri to make sure he heard right.

"Yes." He replied. "On all counts. It is all your fault." He lowered his voice and leaned in. "You kidnapped this man and put him in a box, yourself, no one on my crew said"hey, hey you, kidnap this guy. Against my better judgement I'm going to let you back on my ship, but you get rid of anything and everything that could hurt anyone on my crew. You do what I say, when I say. We need a little muscle to back us up. Do you think you can provide that? If yes? Then you're welcome to stay on my ship. If you don't like any of these terms or conditions, we part ways. But right now? I say we get the hell out of this bar 'fore this fed wakes up and starts asking questions ain't none of us wants to answer.
Day 1 Late Evening - Deal

He remained sanguine throughout her response. After all, the pilot hadn’t tried to argue down on his share, or for that matter, up on the ship’s usage charge. Her gun offering was actually generous, given no experience with his abilities. “Yah haven’t seen me shoot,” he nodded. "Nor have most of the people Ah faced. Speed and accuracy. Ah’ll take yah terms, as mah skills are currently sight unseen. Ah do,” he continued, “require the use of the cargo bay about once a week for practice. Don't worry. No live fire. In exchange, Ah’ll train up some of yah greenhorns if yah like.”

Riley: *“You seem the long-hot-shower type so just know water off world is rationed. If it comes down to it, passengers get first draw for hot water. Captain gets second, and pilot gets third. I got six years on this ship and a willingness to trachea punch anyone who thinks they got more claim to it. “*

Dorian smiled. "Too many years in the black, on all make and manner of boat. Ah understand the meaning of a “boat shower,” he chuckled.

Riley: *“If you want to charge crew for your services, and by that I mean fixing them up after fights, I'll leave that to your discretion."*

He shrugged. “Usually part an’ parcel tah mah share. Howevah,” he said, “Miss Jacy’s work is potentially costly, but we might beat that if yah mechanic will decide tah listen tah mah request. Think yah might persuade him tah check in with me?”

“Final thing,” Adler said. “Ah did a lot ‘o’ work in the past few days with no arrangement. All those services charged ala carte would prob’ly earn me that trachea punch,” he grinned. “Ah know tha run tah Santo was a low payout. What say we just agree to a typical share value, tah be repaid in services? Nevah know when Ah might need a special run, or another gun tah back me up.”
Arjigo

## History

Arjigo was born and raised in Tian Xia's Valashmai Jungle, in a hardy tribe of lizardfolk that wandered the region's vast swamps, fighting the giant vermin and taming the wild dinosaurs.

Descended from a long line of lizardfolk heroes, expectations were high for Arjigo from the moment that he hatched. At first his elders were concerned due to the quiet and unassuming hatchling's interest in herbs and other swamp plants, but these concerns were dismissed dramatically when the young Arjigo revealed that he could use these same plants and herbs to strengthen his body and ability to fight.

Frequently sent hunting, Arjigo's ability to shift his form revealed itself on the very same day that his eye was scarred by a giant hellgrammite. Though he lost an eye he gained respect and admiration, for the ability to change forms was one rarely seen outside of his tribe's druids.

Life went on, and Arjigo eventually discovered the teachings of the war god Gorum. He swiftly adopted these teachings because like the deity in question he reveled in combat, often choosing to rush dangerous prey head on rather than sneak up on it.

However, lizardfolk are not warlike by nature, and Arjigo's seemingly boundless rage and blood-lust eventually alienated him from his tribe. At that point he became a wandering mercenary who roamed Tian Xia in search of battles worth fighting.

His wanderings eventually brought news of a newly discovered continent, Nibiru, to his ears, and he set off for the new land in search of a new life.

## Appearance

Prolonged usage of mutagens has given Arjigo's dark grey scales a permanent spiked appearance, and combined with his scarred eye, this lends him a fearsome appearance, as if he were an atavistic throwback to some deadlier lizardfolk ancestor.

## Personality

As a barbarian, Arjigo is quick to anger and possesses a deep well of rage from which he draws many of his powers, but outside of combat he is surprisingly patient and calm, treating his alchemical pursuits almost as a form of meditation. That said, he revels in combat as a test of strength and skill, though he channels his blood-lust towards nobler goals than many.

## Aspirations

Arjigo seeks combat with a purpose, and for the moment seems to have found it in the defense of Mutoun from the marauding hags and giants.
Day 1 Afternoon - Deals with 'Dad'

Henry smiled. “Well, one of the only things I remember from my father was to ‘*not put all your eggs in one basket*’ – so I had most of my money hid and when those thugs found the coins in my pockets and stole the bag that had everything else I owned, I guess they figured a ‘poor’ shepherd wasn’t likely to have much more on him so they stopped looking once they found what they took,” he said feigning a bit of happiness.

“And yes, I think I’ve heard that word used at a shop I worked for on occasion. The owner is a friend of mine, one of the few in the world I have, so maybe he can help us out?”

The ride wasn’t very long to the shop Henry mentioned. The inside looked like several ships had exploded – parts of all types and varieties were everywhere. As the bell jingled above the door and a few seconds of them entering, a small, elderly man wearing the thickest glasses you’ve ever seen shuffled out from a back room. “Hello! Welcome to Hans Moleman’s Salvage! Can I help…,” and he paused staring at the pair. “Henry? Is that you my boy?!”

“Sure is, my friend,” Henry said walking over and hugging the man. “Hans, I’ve some sad news to share… I’m leaving Santos.”

“It’s about time! Those slave keepers masquerading as shepherds have had you under their thumb for too long. So what can I do for you to help?” Hans asked.

“Well, you see, I was beaten and robbed but managed to keep most of what you’ve paid me over the years safe and this wonderful lady came to my rescue while so many passed me by. She’s in need of parts, ‘Class III Heat Exchangers’… did I say that right, Lieutenant?” he asked turning to her.

Before Riley could answer the old man leapt over to her and hugged her. He was in tears. “Oh my dear! You saved the closest thing to a son I’ve ever had! Whatever you need, I probably have, and I only keep working parts around. And for what you’ve done, they're free of charge!” He shuffled quick to a small room to their left and could be heard shouting from it. “What model?!”
Day 1 Evening - The Night is Young

“I’m just looking to spend a few hours with you two gentlemen before life gets busy and relegates these free moments to a thing of the past. I suspect we’ll be doing some jobs once we thruster up tomorrow so try to enjoy it, yeah?” Jacy linked an arm through each of her male escorts’ and urged them out into the city. She tried to keep the mood light, knowing that Vas was set on seeking out cemeteries and graves. Jacy wasn’t spooked by those locales and she was all for the young man finding some closure. Now she just had to get a handle on Dillon and what he was all about.

“Talk to us, Dillon. What makes a good looking young man like you tick?” Jacy intentionally hugged his arm closer than that of Vas and was careful to smush her right breast against his arm as often as possible. She’d either get him to open up or shut down completely, but Jacy didn’t tolerate limbo very well.
"A Little Learning is a Dangerous Thing"

“A life well learned is a life well lived.”

Dorian’s father had repeated the quote ad nauseum...especially during the times his son might choose to rebel against his textbooks and assignments. It wasn’t until years had passed, and the blood and pain of his final days on Hera had subsided to their place in his memories, that the younger Adler had come to fully appreciate the simple wisdom. And then, thanks to drink, suppressed rage, and incalculable loss, the maturing Dorian had come to grips with the understanding that appreciation did not inspire emulation.

Today, however, was another example altogether. Typically, his dealings with bands of outlaws or pirate crews provided an information flow that not only assisted his methods, but eventually built trust enough for other members to decide it might be “time to have that toothache checked out.”

Not so with this bunch.

Thus far, they all seemed more concerned at the notion of revealing anything within earshot of their shipmates. Except for Punk Teenager. At the rate his eyes darted about the room and scanned the windows, his were the only behaviors the dentist felt he might rely upon for the short term.

Tall Stetson had not objected to being called “Captain.” And now, Mystery Woman seemed to have found her voice.

*“No they don't have much in the way of medical equipment on the ship and that includes a bone-wave scanner. However I do do have a portable 4D sonogram on hand that I use for broke bones. Assuming she doesn't have cybernetic implants in her head we should get a good reading of her bone structure. Of course I am curious as to what you plan to make her new teeth out of?”*

And so, they had a doctor among them. Rather than drop a bit of whiskey fueled sarcasm, Dorian chose to move ahead in the hopes his newfound colleague might have further information to supply regarding their patient, a give-and-take that apparently would include a bit of peer review. “Canton mud,” he replied simply. “It’s strength when fired and its’ ability to be color matched with dental glazes makes it ideal for lifetime crowns.”

The tool she then displayed was as clean and pretty a piece of technology as Osiris based med engineering firms could produce. “Intriguing,” Dorian mused as he handled the elegant little device. Though sonogram equipment was available right here on Persephone, the slow bleed of new tech from the central planets was such that a typical unit found in these environs was mounted into a rolling equipment rack. A sleek piece of high end tech such as this required two things, a sizeable bank account, and also the appropriate federal credentials.

Things were beginning to look purple. He’d best move with caution.

“An outstanding tool, Doctor,” Adler responded as he handed the device back. “Would you do the honors? And perhaps you might describe the medbay of your ship? Beginning with the apothecary?”
A Sight for Sore Eyes

Gill turned to see Vas, Dillon and Jacy standing there. He was caught between relief and panic as he waited to see how the street toughs would react to Vas. All of a sudden they had gone from picking on two kids on there own and helpless to facing down the barrel of a pistol with three adults standing nearby with a keen interest in what happens next. The lead tough narrowed his eyes and gave Gill a withering glare before calling off his crew and sauntering off into the night. Gill released a deep breath and lowered Joes gun.

"Thanks." he mumbled to their would be crew mates. Vas was still glaring at the weapon and Gill self consciously tucked it into the back of his belt, out of sight. It was clear the others wanted some sort of explanation and Gill thought it best to go with the truth.

"We looked up my Pas old friend and he tried to give us to the Feds.... We got away."
Day 1 Night - No Serenity in Santo

"Not sure where our doc got off too." Riley said, scratching the back of her neck, so I'll get you squared away in the med bay. Ajahn, please feel free to explore the ship after you're settled, she's your home away from home for now. Just the cockpit, the cargo bay and the crew quarters is off limits to all passengers. If you're somewhere you aren't supposed to be, don't worry. Someone will likely come crying to me about it. Henry, right this way." She ushered him into the med bay.

She laid her credits on the table in her quarters. It wasn't much, but it'd be good to have handy when the pilot or captain asked for payment. The sum was her commission from the temple to set out on her journey. Ly didn't need much, so credits weren't that important to her... anymore. Biting her lip, she remembered when she would do just about anything for creds to chase her next high. That was another life, she told herself.

Disassociating oneself from old habits was a lofty task. Lyen shook her head and reached for her prayer beads. Absently, she opened drawers, and checked the compartment to see what had been provided. Someone had left some balled-up old clothing in one drawer, and an old Bible in another. She picked up the book and leafed through the pages. It was intriguing, like looking into another version of yourself, to read the holy book of another religion. These holy words could be the fruit of some other sacred figure, interchangeably.

Bible shut, Ly made her 100 prayers once round the beads and off to bed. She'd traveled far today, but things were shaping up. Passage on the Lunar Veil would take her into the black on her next step of her journey. Santo had been a bust; times like these, no one had cared to listen about the emanating good-nature of the Verse. Her patience was starting to wear, and it felt like nowhere outside of the temple was fit for serenity. She could feel the tapping of old-life again, the groans and longing for past crutches. Ten years in the monastery apparently had not expunged her past. Like wrestling a serpent, she could feel the need to get a firm grip before it would be too late.

Her dreams carried her from her steal box and into the realm of regretful memories.
Day 1: evening/ guys

Dillon was still rubbing his eyes when Vas came in. "It's Dillon," he reminded the other boy. "Sure... But are you... Going out alone? What time is it?" He checked the digital clock on the stove. Military time helpfully told him it was in the PM.

"Mind if I come with? There's a few things I need to get..." Having been living out of his backpack for a week or two, he'd packed light. There were a few things he could use now that things were at least a little more stable.
Counteraction

“Fortuitous,” Dorian nodded as Aello went about the task of setting an IV drip. “We won’t have optimal conditions,” he said as he searched the overflowing contents of his medical bag. “But with the food, and a simple detox IV, we’ve got a fighting chance at counteracting the Naproxin. Thirty cc’s of Zofran anti nausea,” he said as he extracted a syringe, “and an equal dosage of Toradol as an anti inflammatory in addition to the hydration flush of the Ringers…” Dorian shrugged. “About as good as it gets in the black.”

He carefully withdrew the dosages from their small bottles, before injecting them into the IV bag itself. After squeezing the bag to mix the medications in properly, Dorian swung it up onto the stand’s hang loop. As soon as he had both a patient and a healthy bowl of oatmeal, he would be ready to begin. “Doctor,” Dorian lifted his gaze toward Aello, “you have my gratitude for your help with the prep.”

“*Was there anything else you needed?*” she asked.

The damnable question. Dorian fought to find the words as he regarded the doctor. *“Never disappoint a fine looking woman”* had always been one of his private mantras. No doubt about it, the statuesque Aello was a splendid example of feminine grace and form. As a newcomer to this odd assortment of characters, Dorian was still attempting to “read the room” when it came to the various personalities and their conflicts. But one such enmity had been made crystal clear. His patient…Jacy…could not abide Aello’s presence.

Though he hadn’t yet been made privy to the reason behind their falling out, the code of ethics demanded that unless absolutely necessary to preserve life, the will of the patient must be obeyed. Even if such obedience meant possibly derailing the first decent collegial relationship the solitary dentist had enjoyed in years.

“Doc…Aello,” Dorian began a slow drawl, “It pains me to inform you of this, but the patient has requested that you not be present when she’s in for the procedure.”
Come onnnn

Thomas turned, grabbed his clipboard and started taking readings of all gauges and read outs on the computer.

"I understand you're concern, I too had items stolen. I am not perpitractor, and kvass needs engine room. It is warm. Yeast like warmth. Jar is hermetically sealed, leave in corner, like it not even there."
Dimitri tried reason, even though seemed useless
Eye Spy Ly With My Little Eye

Tenzin finished writing the latest on his parchment, scurrying back to his cadre of brothers on the far end of the ship to report back to Sherab.

"Our Wayward Sister." He said with a bow, handing the paper to the eldest monk. He placed it with the others.

She'd been observed drinking with a man in town, physically touching, hugging the same man, attending a vaudeville during Solstice no less, at a sly bar! And once aboard the ship? The list went on and on. Hugging, vanity, drinking, her behavior was completely unacceptable to the order.

That night as the prayer wheel turned, they asked their sister be led back to the right path, and for the means to make that happen.
Day 1 Evening - Well ain't that a slap to the face!

“Easy enough for you.” Vas teased Jacy. “Your home town didn’t turn into an endless row of brothels, cheap hotels and rowdy saloons.” He noted as they walked down the bustling street. “The place, use be a ritzy hotel and had a few more floors. They had this bar made out of the deep red wood all carved from one piece. That brothel, use to be a jazz club my Ma would sing at during the week.” Vas explained pointing each out.

There was a wheezy cackle from a man, clearly drunk given how red his face was, leaning over the banister of a nearby saloon. “Ain’t you a bit young to be from the Old Town?” He asked nearly falling over the banister. Clearly he had been listening in to Vas’ description of the past.

“Old Town born and raised, used to live in Silverton a spit throw outside of town.” Vas said with a broadening smile.

“Hell, thought most of the young’uns died or got scooped up.” The man hiccupped as the smell of booze wafting from him and over the trio. “Silverton uh? Sorry to say ain’t nothing left of that place but graves.”

“Speaking of. Wondering if you can help a boy out? I’m looking for something. Might have known her back in the day? The Diva? Imani Jat? She sang at the opera house and some of the old clubs that used to be here.” Vas asked. “Figured since I’m here, I should go pay my respect.” He added

The man laughed and laughed hard. Vas couldn’t help but feel a little confused by the man's reaction. He peeked over to Dillon and Jacy wondering if he said something funny.

“Boy, you as moon brained as they come. Imani Jat ain’t dead!” He continued to laugh. ”She got herself hurt bad, sure, woman moved off world to some fancy core opera troupe. Doing a whole homecoming thing right here. Last stop of their tour or something like that. Not my thing but's why this place is so packed.” The man waved lazily at the hustle and bustle. “Everyone wants a peek at the Diva from Santo before she flies of ‘n away.” The man had himself a good laugh as he stumbled away to another bar.

Vas blinked feeling like he got slapped twice over. All he heard was ‘ain’t dead’ and the rest was just a garbled mess. That alone was a hard pill to swallow for him who watched his Ma shot right before his eyes. Not only alive but here … on Santo ….
Needless to say, Vas stood stunned for a long moment.
Alone at Last

“That is all I need, thank you both.”
After the....interactive tour.... was dragged away, Lawrence felt relief as he inspected his new quarters.
As long as the girl stayed FAR away, it seemed that he had found a suitable ship to be transported on.
The mention of another doctor onboard was once again brought to his attention. He might seek the man out and see what the man was about.
For now however, he wanted to stay in this room. There was another person he was told to avoid, but could remember much because of the incessant droning.
Yeah.....she was definitely.....something.
Once again proving what a nuisance children could be.
Making sure his belongings were all accounted for, he began setting up a corner of the room as a partial work area. Might as well try and spread his name amongst the crew.
Always Pack Underwear...

Haddie pulled the trigger, again and again.

He saw the muzzle flashes, but there was no report. Great holes opened in him, spilling…nothing. They began to shred, jagged maws growing wider with each squeeze of the trigger. *Like a rag in a hurricane,* he thought as the empty vessel that was himself eventually flew apart into a cloud of debris.

Riley’s voice blared over the intercom system, shaking Dorian from a dream he couldn’t rightly define.

Riley: *“Descending onto Valentine. Local time is noon, Temperature is usually good year round. I’m going to ask that while on Valentine, a core planet, you all refrain from doing anything stupid, and if you cannot that you don’t bring your shit aboard this ship. All crew will report to the cargo Bay upon landing.”*

“Mmmph,” he muttered, opening the unaffected eye. With care and drug induced slowness he touched the bandages. He probed the covering of his right eye, before moving to touch the dressing over the surgical site on his temple. “Oh….oh!” he exclaimed mildly at the mistake, and the shock of pain which seemed to roll about the inside of his skull like brandy in a snifter. “Let’s not do that again,” he whispered to himself. With a groan, Dorian fought his way to an upright position.

He’d have sworn that someone drilled a handle onto his skull. His mind was sluggish, dull witted as he gingerly set foot to the deck. Navigating with a head that suddenly felt many times heavier was slow going, but he managed, finding enough balance to remain upright between the exam table and the doorway. Once there, he clutched the frame as he made the left turn toward the lower deck lounge, and his room beyond.

Movement, though not pleasant, was a tonic to help clear the cobwebs. After concerted effort, the normalcy of clothing was also a lift to his outlook. With meticulous care he tied the cravat before fixing his attentions upon the buttons to his vest. The necessary toiletries, a change of underwear, and a couple of books went into his train case. He looked to his knife and pocket watch, tucking them into their accustomed places, before checking his pistols. Hospital or no, Dorian would never permit himself to be caught without them again.

The duster coat was last. Now fully clothed and appropriately armed, the medic examined himself in the mirror. The hat won’t do; his bandages simply wouldn’t permit it. Yet, for all his preparation, it seemed that he was forgetting something…something he’d told himself to carry to the surgeons…

“Tha capture,” he remembered, “and tha ultrasound.” Train case in hand, he made a final visit to the infirmary. After collecting the surgery recordings and confirming the apothecary cabinet was locked, Dorian joined the rest of the crew in the cargo bay.
Day 1 Evening - ((Reposting for RyJones))

Henry was annoyed by the intrusions but didn't let it show. "Well, if you're the doc I suppose your word goes, sir." He pulled up his pants giving Riley a little grin and turned to the doc. "If you don't mind, I've a broken rib I think and could use with a wrap or something of the sort to ease the discomfort of it."

He removed his shirt and sure enough the massive and angled bruise made it obvious.
About Time (Day 1 Early Evening)

Passengers wanted-Crew Needed- Few Questions Asked
A sign that played right into Lawrence’s current interests.
The military woman manning the sign was a little intimidating, but he was willing to test the authenticity of the sign.
“Excuse me, Madam? I noticed your sign and was hoping to converse on the matter. I have money to pay for transport and if need be, well I must brag a little, say I am a talented physician and psychiatrist.”
He needed off of this planet and it seemed this would be his only shot before certain townspeople caught up to him.
He had been on the run for the better part of two days. Rumors and lies had been spread about him, leading to several powerful individuals to send thugs after him. He had made it this far, but he knew these men had ties with the governing body here and it would only be a matter of time.
“I also travel light, if that is an issue.”
Day 1 Evening - Trigger warning

Dillon's negative emotions dissipated in his sleep... Until they came back as Daniel's in his dreams.

He felt warm and comfortable at first. In his dream, he was taking a bath, just lying comfortably in the warm water... Until there was a knock at the door.

"Daniel? Daniel are you in there?

He opened his eyes. He wasn't in the tub anymore. He was dressed and outside of it, his body draped over the rim with his arms in the water. The red water. The tub was making a trade with him via the knife in his hand. He gave it his cold emptiness, and in return it gave him that warm draining comfort.

The door was open. His father was suddenly wrenching him away from peace.

"No..." he wimpered weakly as the trade was reversed. Out of the water, the cuts stung and hurt. The blood trickled out and a cold painful sorrow seaped in. "No... I... I don't want..."

He was limp in his father's grip. Those rare stern eyes- no. Those eyes were enraged. "Don't you DARE EVER try to do this again! Do you hear me?" he growled aggressively. "You UNGRATEFUL BRAT. To think you'd just throw your life away after all the work it's taken to keep you alive!"

"I... I can't..." He was shaking, trying to choke back sobs.

The man was so much bigger than him. That, or he was so much smaller. He had no strength to fight the grip of this giant. He didn't try, but he didn't have to. Suddenly he was falling... It was a short fall, however. He hit a bed hard, a hospital bed. Somehow he knew what was going to happen and tried to get up and escape it, but the bed was too fast for him. Straps whipped up into view like snakes, even hissing before attacking him. They wrapped around his body and constricted him, pulling him down into the bed. He tried to scream out, but they got to his mouth and gagged him. He lie, barely able to breathe, struggling and pulling on the straps. They didn't budge at all.

It wasn't until he gave up that the straps eased their grip, allowing him to breathe. He knew they wouldn't let him get up, but as his heart rate slowed, so did his panic. He lie still.

Until he woke up.

~

When he woke, he kept his eyes closed. He felt... Sad. Not an extreme sorrow, just... A hollow feeling like loneliness.

With a long sigh, he opened his eyes, relieved to find himself where he was. He pulled his knees up to hug them while he tried to forget about the memory and remember how to put that naive, sweet, innocent personality back on.
Cue the Alliance Pt. 2

Lara Walker tried her best not to shake as the boy who killed her partner shoved the knife closer against her spine, and she shifted uncomfortably where she sat at the table. Outwardly, it appeared he was offering a kind hand of comfort, even the expression on his face didn’t betray the fact that he held a deadly weapon precariously close to her spinal cord. Soldiers with their purple armor filled the galley. She’d find a way, if she had her say, every last one of these sons of bitches would be dead by morning. If she screamed, the boy couldn’t to the deed in time before the Alliance soldiers could gun him down. As if he had read her thought she felt the tip of the blade press painfully between her vertebrae, enough so it caused Walker straitened. It seemed she didn’t need to do much to be given a sharp reminder.

She turned to look at the boy but he wasn't even paying any attention to her he was looking fondly at the blonde in the engineer coveralls and who's chest seem to all but ready to burst from their restraints. It wasn't until the Alliance soldier walk in his attention drifted from the girl to the Sergeant.

Keller walked in behind the Alliance Sergeant who more or less strode in like he owned the place, flanked by a squad of gun-toting purple bellies. They spread out surrounding the crew who had gathered around the table.

“So this is your crew?” The Sergeant said looking at each one of them in the eye, noting none of them were visibly armed. So far the Captain’s story was holding water.

“This is them. Ain’t one of them worth but shit, but labor’s cheap, and they know if they act outta line, I’ll leave them on a rock so remote Ezra will seem like a paradise, no offense if you’re Ezran.” The Captain’s eyes silently pleaded with Lyen’s, hopefully she’d play along.

“You’re two short.”

“One’s in the infirmary, hurt pretty bad—“

“What happened to him?”

“He tripped,” the Captain replied dryly. “A few times.” The sergeant nodded in understanding.

“And the other?”

“In his bunk, he ain’t healthy. You’ll find a shit ton of medicine in his room.”

“Go check.” He ordered one of his men. “Which one is your engineer?”

“He’s in the engine room, blondie here is his back up. You want to talk to him, you best take her, big dumb bastard doesn’t speak a word of English.” The sergeant’s eyes quickly drank in Jacy’s form and he nodded.

“You and you.” He ordered - take her to the engine room. You, with with me, watch them. The rest of you- you know who and what we’re looking for. Get to it.” Turning his attention back to the crew and their card game, he looked at the hand Jacy had left behind.

“Don’t let me stop your game. You won’t even know we’re here.”
Inner Self

*Your inner beast shows through other polymorph effects even further.*

**Prerequisite(s):** Extra Feature, Inner Strength, skinwalker, Con 13

**Benefit(s):** Select one feature gained in your bestial form other than natural weapons. When benefiting from Inner Strength, you retain this feature.

**Special:** You may select this feat multiple times. Each time select an additional feature that persists through polymorph effects.
Evacuating of stores

Dimitri would clean up his mess. His nuts and bolts were squared away, his affects in storage and his special project neatly squared away on the table near his bed. That left one last manner to attend to. He opened the crate for the first time, wearing a mask reserved for soldering, with a toothy grin painted on.
“Do not struggle. I am letting you go. I take you a little farther, and how you act may determine your fate.”

He looked down at the rather shoddy looking officer one last time before kicking the crate closed. He lugged it over his shoulder and went bout the ship, fumbling through its inner belly, looking for its airlock.
Bye, Felicia...

“*Now that’s interesting*,” Adler thought as he watched the scrawny kid lay out two of the ruling gang’s henchmen. “*Always good to know who has your back in a tussle*.” And though fist fighting wasn’t exactly a strong suit for Dorian…he typically found resolution by a lightning draw of his pistols…he decided he’d spend time cultivating relations with a boy who possessed such skills.

“Alright, Jacy,” he said in a calming tone, “the doctor and Vas will take you back to the ship. I’ll stop for the supplies I need, and as soon as I get there, we’ll get to work on making you better. Til then, keep that compress on your jaw,” he said, “and a mouth full of Mudder’s Milk. I know it’s not helping much,” he drawled, “but I’ll be able to numb you up good when I get there.”

>Tag Jacy

“Doctor,” he said as the boy Vas rejoined their grouping, “if you would, please get her into the treatment chair. I shouldn’t be longer than fifteen minutes or so. I also wouldn’t mind having you on hand when I do the procedure.” As the words escaped his lips, Dorian noticed fresh alarm in Jacy’s eyes.

>Tag Aello

He watched the three of them leave the saloon. The boy Vas seemed quite attentive to Jacy, Given his display of a moment ago, the dentist felt that he’d get her safely back to the ship...and keep her that way after. As he moved toward the bar, he pondered the troubled look in the girl’s eyes.

“*…girl…not want in mouth…*”

"*Mistrust? Buddha knows there’s enough of that swirling among this crew*, " he thought. “Excuse me. Oliver?”

“Whut kin I do you for, doc?”

“Please have my things sent down to the berthing docks. The vessel is called Lunar Veil,” he said as he slid a fifty across the bar.

“Ye givin’ up yer room?”

“I conjure so,” Dorian nodded. “I suspect this crew wants to break atmo the moment I stop drilling teeth.”