Treetop Villages

[Jax Malone]

Some journeys are never smooth. The very nature of a journey, particularly one that is not planned, is unpredictability. The next step for the desperate crew of The Atillian will take them to the trees, further out of their element. Far above the loamy ground of Ziyou, they will receive everything the settlers of this jungle planet can offer. Their journey has not ended yet. This is just one more step down an unseen road.

[The Atillian]

Admin Plot Progress

Led slowly upward by Wing and Patim, the crew discovers the complex jungle villages of Ziyou. On the brief journey, no questions are answered by either party, Rahl and Wing both remaining stubbornly tight-lipped. Very few faces appear through the dense foliage until the group reaches the largest tree house. There, they are greeted by a larger contingency of the planet's inhabitants. One by one, each crew member and passenger is offered a simple pallet to sleep on, more water, and fresh fruit. Rahl's eyes are glassy, gaze detached as he denies help and slides to the rough floor, motioning Wing's people toward the others first. The scent of cooking meat drifts from somewhere nearby, an unseen promise of more nourishment to come.

General posting is now open.

[Patim]

Patim stood back, the bamboo floor shifting beneath her feet as the others moved to help the newcomers, arms crossed over her stomach as she watched and weighed them.

Silent, she caught Wing's eye and nodded. They could help these people, maybe even repair their ship. They had the opportunity to make allies out of them, and Ziyou needed allies in the outside world.

Sliding down a pole to the lowest level, she crossed the pathways through the tree-tops and climbed back up to the high hidden flet where the children were hidden. It was time to let the newcomers know that they were just people, just families, just human beings- her fingers reached unbidden to the veil over her face- just simple folk surviving as best they could.

"Fetch Robbin and Cal. Then fetch the water up from the well for supper. Stay together!" Patim warned as her students scrambled down the ladders, glad to be out, "No one go near the strangers, dong ma?!"

Robbin, the metal-smith, and Cal, who knew a bit about technical things, were the best bets to help mend the ship and get the strangers on their way. No. Not strangers. She knew their names now, foreign on her tongue, like spiced curry or sweetened corncake, things she had forgotten since learning how to live. Bayttee, Mike, Rex, Breeze, Alekz, Nichole, Drew, Rahl. Adam.

Somewhere far in the dank green of the jungle a wildcat screamed as it began it's evening prowl for food, and Patim couldn't help the shiver that ran up her spine as it's warning echoed. Returning to the main house, her gaze slipped to the huge form of Adam, but quickly enough she glanced away, stifling her her need to know if what she guessed was correct.

She leaned down beside Bayttee and Alekz instead and gestured Breeze, "What do you need to help her? Our medical supplies are simple, but we get by. Our metalsmith is on his way. It's too late today to travel back to your ship, but first light we'll help assess the damage."

Wooden trays, some elaborately carved, appeared, holding fruit and more drink: Rehydrating nourishment derived from the jungle itself.

"We see few outsiders here," Patim gestured away a curious villager who lingered too long with a tray. It was time to look for answers. Her keen mind imaged the map she had once seen, overlaying it on the back of her mind. Where they had come from, where they were going: If they lied, assuming that such primitive villages wouldn't know their cartography, she would know. She addressed the group at large, "Please, satisfy a land-bound's wondering mind. Where have you come from and how did you come to be on Ziyou? Where were you going, so far from the regular shipping lanes?"

[Rahl]

Rahl was numb, only dimly aware of the activity around him. Now, with Drew on his right and Adam on his left, Nichole curled close to his left side, her head on his shoulder. Wing moved slowly through the large hut, in and out different doors, speaking in a tongue that the Captain almost recognized. Or did he? It was getting so hard to hold on to much of anything, his mind and body both trying to shut down to protect him. That wasn't an option for as long as he could avoid it.

Waving away the tray of fruit in Wing's hand, motioning for the food to be offered to the rest first, he rested his head against Nichole's, focusing on the simple act of keeping his eyes open. "Your crew has eaten, Captain. Take some food," Wing said, forcing the tray on him again. Despite the gesture, despite the command, Wing's tone was gentle, as if he was trying to calm an injured animal. Rahl glared a moment, meeting the native leader's dark gaze. Patim's voice broke their staring contest.

"Please, satisfy a land-bound's wondering mind. Where have you come from and how did you come to be on Ziyou? Where were you going, so far from the regular shipping lanes?" He felt Drew's gaze on him, but didn't look towards her, examining the natives instead. Wing's eyes were cautious, watching each of them. What was he looking for? What did he find?

"We were making a supply run to Higgin's Moon." There was no reason to elaborate, no reason to say more, and no reason to completely lie - especially if any of these people were to be allowed near the ship's computers. His own empty, flat tone worried him, made him wonder what could possibly happen next. Again, his mind made a push for unconsciousness that he stubbornly resisted, forcing himself to ignore it.

[The Atillian]

Admin Plot Progress

Eventually, whether they like it or not, every member of the Jester's crew falls into an uneasy sleep. A few of the lucky ones are allowed the sleep afforded by numbing drugs, painkillers and the like. Rahl continues to refuse all help and spends most of the night in tense conversation with Wing. Their soft, muttering whispers act as an undercurrent, the cadence kept even throughout the night. It helps, acting as a bizarre sort of lullaby when coupled with the wind, the bird calls, the sounds of a sleeping world.

Morning dawns too early, too bright, the jewel toned leaves vibrant with the rain that fell during the night. Wing dispatches Robbin and Cal to locate and examine the fallen ship. For the moment, Drew and Rex are their only escorts. As the crew is offered another simple meal, eating with the inhabitants of Ziyou rather than being served by them, Rahl begins to check in with his crew, sampling dishes as he walks by them, the only one staying on his feet. Despite the dark circles under his eyes, the Captain is more in control after the night of quiet discussion. Wing is also more in control, his body still as a hunting jungle cat about to pounce, his own bright eyes shifting from one unfamiliar face to the next. During the night, something has shifted, changed, between the two leaders, though it remains invisible as the birds singing in the trees.

Absent characters GMed at Admin discretion. Let's get things moving if we can.

[The Breeze]

Gorram meds were makin' her fuzzy.

Everything, every word the jungle hicks gabbled at her consumed itself, every word gone as soon as it was spoken, a brass haze of whispers and overtones that twisted the connecting nerves behind her eyes until she wasn't sure if she sleeping. Felt weird. Didn't hurt, not really. More like she was drunk, and it was getting kinda interesting trying to watch her feet. Hadn't touched the bottle, h'officer, care t'smell me breath?

The air hummed with a clanking hiss, like engines or the crowd around a building while it burned, sun-sharp and serrated, and she was staggering under the unexpected weight.

The shadows were colder, and a tremor snaked up her legs from the floor with every step she took, forgetting where her spot was, which way the ship was, every instinct that'd remained with her. The sunlight stabbed at her face, goose-egged and pulsing and sending painful needles through her brain, and maybe it wasn't Tuesday after all, she thought, and she could barely see Baytee but The Breeze knew she was giving her the hairy eyeball. Maybe she could tell The Breeze hadn't taken that last bit of stuff...?

Huffing, The Breeze rolled towards the cool shadow of Rahl's passing until hardly any sunlight touched her, shoulder curled up with her arm slumped over Nichole, clinging to her for one precious, terrified minute before she folded at the waist and flopped over Nichole's lap like a lizard to bask in the sun.

"Shut up," she muttered to Baytee without opening her eyes, and her voice was like flame leavings and nails and tiredness. "'S too ruttin' hot t'talk, so just shut the hell up."

[Bayttee]

"'S too ruttin' hot t'talk, so just shut the hell up."

"Shut your own trap, twiggy." Bayttee growled back. This whole planet was starting to weigh on her like one big sweaty dishrag. A little more kindly, she sucked in a lungful of the thick air, "You should be sleepin' while you got it in ya, Breeze. Soon as your head's clear there's gonna be plenty of work needing you."

At least Bayttee hoped so. Both that there would be work for Breeze to do and tha her head would clear. Lowering her voice, she shifted closer to Rahl, hoping that Breeze was already too out of it to hear her. "I don't know, Captain. I really thought she'd be doing better than this today. Her brain musta got a really bad rattle."

Bayttee tried to let her eyes say what her words wouldn't. It was possible that Breeze hadn't gotten enough air when the vacuum filled the ship, that the damage was more then skull deep. She wouldn't entertain that notion seriously. Not yet. She couldn't do it.

Her eyes flashed around at the others. Alekz seemed all right, as did Adam, even though the huge man was as silent as he ever was. The other passenger, though, still loooked a little gill-green, "Mikie? How you holdin' up? Ain't gonna start pukin' like Breezie, are ya?"

[Rahl]

The night had been too long - ages too long, hour after hour spent whispering, hissing, growling, trying to get a feel for the man sitting in front of him. Wing knew the rules as well as Rahl did; that much had been established as they talked. "It's odd, Captain, how much you seem to care for them while giving no second thought to your own well-being." Every time Wing had moved too close to one of the crew, Rahl had glared, objecting as loud as he dared in the room full of sleeping and sick. They had almost come to blows, but had finally reached an understanding. Neither of them was backing down.

Popping a piece of fruit in his mouth from the tray sitting by Alexz, he walked as he chewed. The humid air seemed more like a solid, some live thing trying to choke them all. If Wing had done anything... Rahl's gaze darted to the leader, sitting by Adam, making a pretense of trying to draw Nichole into conversation. The Captain's hand clenched into a fist at his side, knuckles cracking audibly, before Bayttee shifted closer to hiss in his ear. "I don't know, Captain. I really thought she'd be doing better than this today. Her brain musta got a really bad rattle."

The mechanic was complaining with no energy or enthusiasm. Even with his lack of skills as a medic, Rahl could tell she wasn't completely with them. "Perfect." He resisted the urge to swear, though the word was still etched in his dark eyes and furrowed brow. They had to get out of here.

Stepping outside, the sunlight pierced straight through his eyes, a drill into his brain. This place was too bright, too damp. Even in such open sunlight, they were hiding so much. That, more than anything, scared the hell out of Rahl. They had to get out of here, off this god-forsaken, too-green rock they were stranded on. Despite the warmth, the Captain shuddered. Who could be watching them now, hidden in the trees?

Spinning on his heel, he moved back into the shadows granted by the roof of the structure, noting numbly that it didn't offer much change from the sun. "Juh jen sh guh kwai luh duh jean jan..." With too much force, not caring, Rahl's back met the wall. Slowly, he slid down to the floor, eyes closed, head throbbing, mind and body still pushing for the unconsciousness he'd never found. Too much go-se going on around here. Too much to figure out. Another memory from the endless night resurfaced. "We both have our secrets. That's what makes us the same. The difference is how far we'll go to protect them." How much farther could he go?

"The others will be back soon, Captain." Wing, trying to be helpful. Rahl wasn't in the mood. "Shut up," he growled, not bothering to open his eyes.



Juh jen sh guh kwai luh duh jean jan - This really is a happy day.

[Michael O'Shea]

He heard voices, talking and whispering all around him as if the very trees themselves were talking. It had been too hot to sleep properly and even after he'd stripped off his jacket, rolled up the sleeves of his shirt and pulled the legs of his trousers up to his knees it had been too gorram hot. Some time during the night he came to the conclusion that he really hated this place more than any other planet he had ever visited and that he almost, almost, wished that he was still back on Santo. At least the weather there was bearable and when it wasn't you could just head for the casinos and enjoy the air conditioning.

"Mikie? How you holdin' up? Ain't gonna start pukin' like Breezie, are ya?"

Mikie? He cracked open an eyelid and the crazy medic came into view, her expression seemingly milder than it had been yesterday. But now that he was coming fully awake, he could feel that the awful itching on his legs was still very much present. He sat up slowly and wiped a hand across his sweaty forehead and through his damp hair, then blinked a few times, then shook his head at Baytee. “No. Not going to puke, I don't think. But if you've got some more of that spray stuff and a painkiller I'd be eternally grateful.”

[The Breeze]

Words came rattling out Baytee's throat, reassuring words, that she probably should have been listening to, actually, but it was too much, too much, and it'd seemed so much easier to just go back to sleep than to keep listening, so she had, had turned away, rolling, shifting, reaching blindly, and

she could almost remember the way his face had looked through the fall of her hair, different like no other, fantastic, and she still hadn't taken for granted the wonder of it, but every day she'd come a little closer to forgetting-

her hands gripped skin hard enough to hurt, wanting to hurt, like she'd fly apart into pieces if she let go.

The Breeze opened her eyes. "Cap?" She said slowly, floundering, awkward, because it was Nicki, not Rahl, she was holding, and the look on Nicki's face-

"Oh," she said, and looked down at her hands. They were still holding on. She couldn't seem to make them let go. "Oh," she said again, making a face that, normally, would have meant she was trying not to spit. "Cap?" She said, her voice rising and breaking, and she still couldn't let go. "Rahl!"

[Nichole Walker]

What the rutt was with this planet? Too gorram hot, the air too thick, too heavy. Rahl was tense. Even leaning against the wall with his eyes shut, he had tension rolling off him. The Breeze doubled over into her lap, clinging tight, dazed. Was everyone getting sick, affected by the heat? The sunlight was too bright, the eyes of the natives too still, the fruit too sweet. Rahl still wasn't moving. Nichole's trembling hand ran through the mechanic's hair, a move intended to soothe.

With those same hands, she'd pushed that box across the cargo bay. She'd made the twisted metal meld with a human body. She'd- Nichole held her breath for three seconds before letting it out in a gust, looking at Wing, looking at Rahl. "Can we get out of here yet?"

"Can't leave til the ship's fixed." Rahl's lips barely moved as he spoke, though he finally opened his eyes, finally moved over to them. Kneeling beside her, he put his hand over The Breeze's, attempting to pull her away and hold her himself. He was muttering nonsense, soothing words she didn't hear. Nobody knew she was guilty. In this heat, would they care?

"Bao-bei...I want to go back home." Rahl's lips were cool on her temple, his hand brushing up and down her back. "We'll get back as soon as the ship's fixed, Nicki."

"The others should be back soon to tell us how bad your bird's hurt." Wing's voice, husky and silky at once, made her jump. Rahl nodded. "Thanks for the food." Wing shrugged, not responding as he took another bite of fruit, juice running sticky from the corners of his lips.

[Patim]

Patim watched.

She tried to watch everything. All of them at once. She tried to be as still as the trees that held their world. But the voice inside would be silent no longer, and she ceased trying to keep it so.

With a sudden determination, she slipped beneath Wing's arm, and knelt before the captain of the fallen bird. Raising her veiled face, she regarded him with one eye, the visible corner of her lip rising in a faint smile.

"Captain? Forgive me the intrusion when I know you are weary..." She hesitated, guessing that behind her back Wing was glaring at her in disapproval, "But your man there," her slender work-worn hand gestured towards the stoic bulk of Adam Man, "His mind? It isn't right is it? He's but a child?"

The woman who carried grace for all of the ugliness her life had handed her steeled herself for the answer that she was certain would come. So many years of wondering, of waiting, and this what it came down to. Patim had long forgiven, even blessed, the man. She had often dreamed of the day she would thank him.

But she had never expected this.

She had never expected to feel pity for the man who had killed her husband.

[Robbin]

Robbin & Gang Continue from Atillian Thread

The fuel-injector box in hand, Robbin climbed to the main-house. He signalled Wing with his free hand, a barely noticeable hunters gesture.

The first mate could tell the others what was up with their ship, that it was nearly flight-worthy. It was to the ships mechanic that Robbin reported. "I know she is not well," He gestured to Nichole and Bayttee, "But this injector box is broken, the springs here and here...And this bolt. I can make the parts in my workshop, but I think she is the only one here who knows the callibrations necessary to do it right."

Squatting, Robbin's dark hard form leaned over the small woman, who huddled forlorn and unwell against her friends, "Come, little girl," He said not unkindly, in words calculated to encourage a fighting response, "Your bird is wounded. What kind of mechanic just lays there when her machine is weeping?"

[The Breeze]

"-little girl," said a voice, who was just close enough to her face that she could see the sharp outline of his thin profile, the ragged line of his soft hair. "Your bird is wounded. What kind of mechanic just lays there when her machine is weeping?"

The Breeze blinked up at him for a moment, gaze unfocused -- and then she jerked and glared at Robbin with a look of pure startled-cat fury.

"Weepin'?" The Breeze growled, and arched, snapping out a hand out from where she sprawled, half beside and half on top of Rahl and Nikki -- and as she did, it brushed metal.

She stopped.

Frowned.

Then reached out for the part. Her hands were perfectly steady through her eyes were not, gravitating with uncanny precision to the hurt. She turned it in her hands, feeling the burn of it in her firery grip. Drew it to her lips and pressed a single, single kiss to it that started at the top of her spine, then crept all the way down, shuddering electric, like the beginning of the world.

A breath held, then released, slowly out her nose, and The Breeze sagged back against. She hugged the part closer to her chest, feeling suddenly exposed, everything raw and bright. "Weepin'?" Her fingers tightened. Even though she couldn't feel Atillian's heart, she knew it was there, knew if she pressed her fingers close enough she could feel the beat. "Weepin'?"

This time when she grabbed at him, she made it all the way up. "My ship don't weep," she growled, "'n neither do I."

[Andrea Glass]

Things were looking up. The ship was doing better, much better, with the help of the locals. Andrea wasn't all about trusting them, it wasn't her thing. Perhaps it was still her survive and give a chance in trusting after that. Perhaps it was a simple test for the others. It was what kept the first mate on their return to the village of the locals. But as soon as the rejoined the club, Drew took it too step away from the locals, looking for her captain. She paused as she scared the people around her, looking for her captain. It wasn't at first that she saw him. He was hidden in the shadows of one of the shadows given by the buildings, approached by Wing, as well as Nikki.

Moving quickly towards him, as well as them, the first mate hesitated for a second due to the local in their presence but seeing as Robbin had been with them on the ship and was right now delivering the unfixed part of their ship to The Breeze, it seemed partly alright to share this in front of Wing. "Captain." She greeted only person on The Attilian above Andrea's so to speak. "The ship is in order again, expect for a small fuel-injector plate. Robbin is handing to Breeze right now." She shortly reported before looking back to see Robbin and The Breeze interacting. Their mecanic didn't seem to pleased with the local. Perhaps he said something wrong. Or perhaps it was just the fact that The Attilian wasn't doing too well. Looking back, she glanced Nikki, Wing and Patim, whom she had only just noticed.

She really wanted to get off this planet. Despite her schooling and it impling that she should feel nothing but comfort in the nature, she wasn't that person anymore. She didn't know how to live like that any more. Andrea was the first mate. It was all she was nowadays.

(OOC: Yes, The prodigal daughter returns... I know, I've been bad. Here's a short, I'm getting back in the trenches, so to speak.)