Isard's Open July Log [Open to All!]

[iceheart_imperial]

WHO: Whoever wants in! Especially maybe Jedi or other Star Wars peeps she hasn't run into yet. (Looking at you, Poe. :P)
WHERE: Various, see below
WHEN: Whenever in July, feel free to back/forward tag
WHAT: Isard goes around, does things. People and conversations happen.
WARNINGS: Will add if anything happens worth warning about.




Option A - At her P.I. Office

The paperwork was wearying. Not that she couldn't handle the volume - her day's total paperwork was still a fraction of what she'd have to deal with before. If she felt in the mood to share, she'd have told people: authority comes with a lot of paperwork, be prepared. No, it wasn't the paperwork. It was having to learn to write in English instead of Aurebesh. Mostly it was just signatures, but marginalia were a chore, still. Cursive was easier, thankfully. And more elegant.

She sighed, finishing off with that week's paystubs before moving onto the new reports she had to read. She re-rolled the sleeve on her dress shirt, sighing, then tapped the intercom.

"Mariam," she called for her assistant, "when you get a spare moment, some tea would be just lovely, thank you. And I'm free if anyone comes in."

She got up, putting the signed pay stubs into the office safe. The pay would happen automatically, of course, but this planet ran on records. And she was quite keen that everything here be above board.

Option B - Cafe

She'd found a small cafe near her home, and it was becoming something of a favorite haunt. It was small, a little run down, but it had a small stage. She stopped by, at irregular intervals of course, just to enjoy the people who claimed it as their own for a small time. Sometimes it was poets, other times musicians. A few people who, very charitably, might be deemed 'comedians' - but there seemed to be no guiding principle to any of it. You came, you performed, that was that. It was so wonderfully disorganized.

When she'd arrived, it had been a duo of a pianist and a violinist. She'd been there long enough only for their last song - a melody that she found haunting and beautifully sad.

Later, she was unable to entirely quantify their genre, but the music was very different indeed. But she listened with every sign of enjoyment. She was seated with a clear view of the door - some instincts died too hard - a rather overcomplicated coffee drink in front of her. She wasn't sure what it was. She'd just asked the barista for something interesting.

Option C - A Mastermind Stops a Criminal

She'd been walking past the bank when he'd come out. A man, wearing metal. That in itself wasn't unusual, but the shoddiness of it certainly was. Oh dear, someone thought he'd found a clever solution to the problem of imPorts being on guard, hadn't he? Someone who thought he had wit when he had only half of one.

He was yelling something about being 'the new Ned Kelly' or something she frankly wasn't paying attention. To that or the gun he was waving. Which was meant to look complicated and futuristic, but she was quite sure was actually some kind of painted prop. The man's 'armor' hung down over him past his waist, which had to be hampering his movement, surely. Had he converted a hot water heater, or...?

Her thoughts were interrupted by the man pointing the weapon at her and demanding her car keys.

"Oh, no, absolutely not," she replied, clenching a fist and allowing herself a small smile.

"Who the hell d'you think you are?! I'm the new Ned Kelly and I'll do what I-"

"They call me Iceheart," she interrupted, breaking into a grin, "and I've had about enough of this." With that, she threw her weight into an uppercut, enhanced strength hammering a dent into the metal and lifting him clear of the ground to land flat on his back with a very satisfying sound.

D - Relaxing at the Gym

She wore a blue one piece bathing suit, her hair done up in a tight ponytail aside from two strands of white hair that had escaped at the front. With a sigh, rubbing the back of her neck, she crossed over to the gym's spa-class hot tub, easing herself into the water gingerly. She'd had a regular sparring session with Ryuko and it had gone...predictably badly. She knew one hip had an ugly bruise from a kick, that was for sure.

But she hadn't been run over by a freight train this time, at least.

She settled back into the water, submerging up to her chest with a sign, leaning back with both arms on the railing.

E - Create your own!

Comments

C

[john_morris]

A man hurried out of the bank, wide-eyed, just as Isard punched the robber with amazing strength. He paused near the entryway, stunned and watching for a moment. He's dressed much like he's just stepped out of the Wild West, complete with a cowboy hat. The main oddity, though, being that his left hand was enclosed in a thick, lead-lined glove. The other hand was bare but he was clutching some papers.

"Well done, madam," he says with a genuinely impressed manner. "You have captured the robber."

[iceheart_imperial]

She prodded the prone man with her foot before responding, to make sure he's not going anywhere.

"I don't think I did much," she replied, not finding his costume out of place at all. She's still not entirely clear on the rules between 'modern' and 'ancient' here.

"He practically ran into me."

[john_morris]

"He had held up this bank," he gestured behind him. "I'm afraid that he had us at a disadvantage inside," he looked a little ashamed that he hadn't managed to help. "I did not have any weapons with me as I was on the job, visiting this place."

And carrying a pistol and hunting knife into a bank wouldn't likely be allowed. Not without intent to rob.

He headed closer to the so-called 'new Ned Kelly' and searched for his gun, picking it up from where it had fallen nearby. He frowned as he examined it and took it then glanced back to her.

"You are not injured?"

[iceheart_imperial]

"I thought as much, and I understand completely."

Something the extremely stupid have in their favor is that the sheer boldness gives them certain degree of success. There is no planning for someone bursting into a bank in what she's now certain is absolutely a hot water tank.

"And I'm fine, thank you. Is everyone inside all right?"

[john_morris]

"I believe so. He was a lot of talk and bravado and they handed the money over quickly so as not to cause trouble. I believe the police have also been called and should be on their way," he looked with some distaste at the criminal. "Now where did he put the bag of money...?"

Maybe stuffed it inside his armor.

[iceheart_imperial]

She reached down at that, looking for...well, a hatch.

"How on Earth did he get it covered, there doesn't appear to be any...he just lowered this on, in one piece, didn't he."

She shakes her head, honestly amazed at the sheer brazenness of it.

"Pull his feet?" she suggests, as she grips the top of the armored shell, to pull it off.

[john_morris]

He grips one end as she pulls the other.

"This certainly is a remarkable costume."

[iceheart_imperial]

She pulls on her end, the sound of metal dragging across cement becoming rather loud and seemingly urgent.

"I think it started life as a hot water heater. He was saying something about...Ned Kelly? Do you know what that means?"

[john_morris]

"I'm afraid that I do not," he answers. Even if he was up with Australian crime stories, Ned Kelly was after his own time - and it was not something he'd had cause to research here. "Ah... There were are," he says as a plain bag drops out. "I shall return that to the bank. Do you want to wait here? I'm sure they will be grateful for catching him and making sure the money was not lost."

D

[kraythero]

Anakin was completely slicked in sweat after his workout and therefore had showered thoroughly before heading to the hot tub. He also had removed his mechnaarm, the stump of flesh and cybernetics that was the remaining bicep of his right arm covered in a thick silicon wrap that served to keep the site dry. And his shorts were more snug-fitting than shorts meant for just kicking in the water, they were meant for serious swimming.

But rather than hit the pool he walked over to the hot tub, stretching deeply while walking. "You mind if I join you?" He found out some people did. It was strange to him, but whatever. He wasn't trying to make people uncomfortable.

[iceheart_imperial]

Nothing about him immediately triggered any alarm bells. She kept her movements erratic, so predicting where to place an assassin was difficult. She doubted she was enough on anyone's radar to take such a course of action, yet, but it was habit.

"By all means," she said, barely paying him any heed for the moment. But there was something niggling at the back of her mind. He looked vaguely familiar. As if she'd seen him somewhere, half-remembered.

[kraythero]

"Thank you." Anakin sunk into the water with a contented sigh. He gave her as much space as the water allowed, and tipped his head back against the headrest. Clearly at ease.

"How you finding the place?"

[iceheart_imperial]

"The gym or the planet? In either event, rather well."

He recognized her as an imPort, straight off. He must be, too. And something about him is setting off actual alarm bells in her mind. But she can't for the life of her think of what.

She's seen his face, but it could easily have been on the news. Or was it long ago...

[kraythero]

"The gym. Have you seen enough of the planet to make a call on it?" He cocked his head over as he looked, more curious than anything. He didn't know for sure she was an imPort - just was used to being recognized himself as one and someone commenting. That she hadn't made him suspect.

And his voice suggested he held an opinion, but was holding back.

[iceheart_imperial]

"In person, alas, no. But I hear wonderful things about Europe."

She sighed, sinking into the water a bit more, affecting an air that was more relaxed than she felt.

"But anywhere that has opera and theater like this planet does, has a good head start. How about you? Here long enough to make an informed guess?"

[kraythero]

"I'm not really a fan of opera, although I've seen quite a few back home. The level of tech here is so primitive it makes me wonder how much they actually have a chance of advancing." Well, she'd asked.

Anakin himself was relaxed, even if his reflexes were fast enough that he wasn't worried about an attack.

[iceheart_imperial]

"They are incongruous. Backwards and primitive in some ways - but take the cellular phones. They haven't even mastered leaving orbit properly yet, and despite that have produced communications equipment more versatile than any I've seen."

She shrugged, under the water.

"They'll advance. If they don't kill each other first."

D!

[biochemastery]

Grineer didn't really work out. The more usual way of doing things was to do actual work until bits of you fell off, get them replaced, and then keep going. Always did good for him!

But that was the way of the Grineer Empire, and that was the way modern grineer bodies worked. Now, thanks to this physics-breaking, tree-infested, infuriating planet, he had some other bodies he could try on. The human one? Ruinously un-grineer. But the first-batch, pristine, all-organic grineer body? Beautiful. Unsurpassed.

...And unfashionable, by modern grineer standards. By his standards. He'd built his own cybernetic body into the curvacious ideal of grineer masculinity, and he was going to do the same to this one too!

It turned out that was harder than he'd expected. Oh, there were all sorts of places that humans went to build muscle, but most of the men did it all wrong, and he laughed at them, and he got kicked out of the gym. Multiple gyms. Good riddance, brick-shaped idiots!

It had taken ages to find a trainer who understood. He liked the one he'd found here, this one could wrap their head around good aesthetics, and the desire to look fantastic.

And so he's in a good mood by the time he's ready to relax. "They could make this even better if they put the right chems in the water," he says, apropos of absolutely nothing. "Just chlorine in there? They're aiming low. Need to get more creative."

The water doesn't come up all that high on him--everything here's built to human scale, rather than a more proper 205cm body like his. Still, it's enough to luxuriate in.

"Do I remember you from somewhere?" That hair thing looked familiar. It'd come to him in a minute.

[iceheart_imperial]

"I believe," she said, regarding him with a raised eyebrow, "that the idea is not to burn off clientele's skin. People tend to get litigious about such things."

"And," she added, "I do not believe we've met."

Something about the voice, though...

((OOC: I want, indeed need, you to know that you made my day by having a young Dolph Lundgren as his human form. I laughed quite loudly, my wife looked at me funny for it, it's a good day. Dolph is more tank than man, and I'm imagining all of this in his voice and it's making me snicker.))

[biochemastery]

He smirked. "Kinky direction to take that. But no, that's not the idea. They're just sterilizing this stuff. Keeping the water from getting too human." The idea evidently disgusts him. "Why not dose it with something? Boost the muscles? Mood modification? That's what we'd do." Did do, when you were still in the tube. He'd know, that was his job. His science.

Still wasn't coming to him. "ImPort, right?" The imPorts had more fancy appearance mods like those stripes. Was it a mod? Mutation? Whatever. Unless it was beneficial, it was just a curiosity rather than a target.

((OOC: I'm glad to be of service! I'd put the question of who I should use to the people on plurk, and Heebee had just seen this clip. It had to happen. Tyl likes and cares for his Old Grineer body more, but he has to put up with Dolph sometimes. Doorways on Earth are tiny by his standards. :P))

[iceheart_imperial]

"I would say it's more observational than anything. The variety in organic life - especially here, with an imPort community - would make anything other than the most basic cleansing a risky proposition."

She pauses a moment before continuing, sizing him up.

"And I am, as are you, by the sound of things."

((OOC: That may be the most expressive I've ever seen Dolph. I'm way more used to him delivering lines with all the care and cadence of a hot dog flung down a drainage pipe. :P))

[biochemastery]

"What's life without a little risk?" Really, dumping strange chemicals into a tub wouldn't even rate in his top ten. "Besides, 's not that much variation." Grineer had more variation than these people did, and they were all clones! Sure, every once in a while he'd find something new here, something he wanted to get a scalpel into, but it wasn't enough.

"That implies you thought I could be a local. I'm hurt." See? He's brought a hand dramatically to his chest and everything.

((OOC: He's made exclusively of beef and not a single bit of ham to go with it. He's like the anti-Tyl. :P))

[iceheart_imperial]

"Longer?" she retorted, but with a smile. "At any rate, I never make an assumption without evidence."

Which was a lie, by itself. She did that all the time - the trick was to back it up with facts before engaging in a programmatic solution.

"I'm Ysanne Isard," she said, finally. "And you would be...?"


((OOC: My wife and I just watched him recently in 'Shark Lake', and every line is just flung out there and when he's walking into the room it's a wonder there aren't the sound of tank treads. One actual scene is him cooking a steak with a hunting knife. Just...everything is beef. Even his actions. :P))

[biochemastery]

"Oh pff," he waved that off. Sure, he took insane risks, but it was a finely balanced mix of pure disregard for his own safety, and disregard for the safety of his test subjects that he threw in first.

"I'm remembering that name." Oh, this was even better. He remembered annoying this one. "Tyl Regor. How's all the helping going these days? Getting tired of it yet?"

((OOC: My favorite movie with him in it is Masters of the Universe, where he's 1000% outclassed by Frank Langella under a mountain of prosthetic Skeletor makeup. It's terrible and the best thing ever. :P))

[iceheart_imperial]

She favored him with the sort of smile she wore with the public. The image was absolutely perfect.

"It's going quite well, of course. This is a wonderful second chance for me. We had enough to start up a small arts scholarship this month."

Because two could play at that game, all things said and done. And she could don a character like nobody's business.

((OOC: It's an easy win. Whenever I make a truly terrible pun, my wife tends to laugh and respond 'how dare you?' to which I immediately go "I am SKELETOR. I dare anything!"))