Roleplay

[img]http://flightrising.com/image_generators/dragonpic2.php?body=54&wing=54&style=11&gender=1&ages=1&prig=8&secg=9&tert=59&elem=10&tertgene=9&spec=prev.png[/img] What was interesting about the Shifting Expanse was that it did not change – much. Black clouds ruled the skies at night, and when they didn’t, the harsh daytime sunlight baked everything in sight. There was just enough mercy in the landscape for hunting to be worthwhile, but its moods changed so quickly that it was hard to imagine how any clan would find a home here. Not that it mattered. Surely the Institution had long noticed a gap in their daily logs; soon they would come collect what had gone missing. Not that there was much of a story behind it to tell. Waking up in an unfamiliar place was nothing unusual for 599, but out here in the middle of a desert, well, it was about the last place she would have expected. Nor was there any explanation for how she’d gotten here to begin with. During her impromptu stay in the Lightning domain 599 tried not to move about much, but it was difficult because of how the desert demanded it. Under a rocky overhang that seemed fit to collapse any moment, she’d taken some paltry shelter, but it wasn’t the sort that promised food or water; for that a journey outside was required. When the sky began to darken she crept slowly out from the fading shadow of the cliff face, trying to remember where the last oasis had been. Never mind if she could get there in time. Everything looked so much the same that it was hard to tell where she’d come from and where she’d been. The most she could hope to manage was getting lucky and finding enough to eat and drink to last her another day, and then tomorrow she’d have to repeat the process. It wasn’t until the rain started that she realized all that to be the least of her concerns. Well, it solved the water problem – within seconds the storm had started pouring water onto dry sand that couldn’t hold it all, and she wasn’t safe from it either. A large boulder stood not far from where she presently was, so she dragged herself over to it and curled up at its side with her wings wrapped around herself, thoroughly soaked now. It was colder than she had expected too, and she stared warily up at the sky, which showed no signs of stopping anytime soon. @Diabolacuna ((When suddenly, a post appeared! Hope it's not too shabby. I could've written it less scatterbrained, but why do that when I can write it on the meds, right?))

@Serpenthyne (( dontchu worry. I am expert at translating 'painkillers mmm' )) [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=4136149] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/350/41362/4136149_350.png[/img] [/url] In the bright light of the polished hallway a disgruntled character with a disgruntled disposition eyed the four stacked crates in front of him. Why it was that delivery could never be carried directly to the storage he did not know, but it was certainly something that needed to be discussed for the future, particularly due to the hallway being twice as narrow when loaded with crates. Flicking the catalogue stapled to the top of a crate, Zamza eyed through the list of contents and hissed softly upon his discovery of the unmarked listings. Going without wiring for a week or two was not a problem, but it never really was anything like that that went missing, it was always the damned food. The Mirror checked his surroundings for any possible wandering colleagues before giving the crate a well-deserved kick. He then quickly composed himself and manouvered past the crate blockade in the hallway, aiming for the smooth white staircase leading up to the surface of the area outside. Zamza was fully aware of the fact that while his former lab partner was now a easily distracted airhead, the said Imperial is still aware enough to not leave crates around outside. Especially not the ones containing dinner. They could survive just fine on what they had stored away in the cold storage but no one wanted to eat eggs, gradishes, sardines and croaker legs all month. Sighing to himself, Zamza surrendered to his doubts - [i]pardon me old friend[/i] - and padded up to the button that would pull the camo-plates aside from above the staircase. Judging by the sounds coming from above the weather for the day was either sandstorm of the ages or a rare and useless rain season. The scientists reached for his scarf and wrapped it around his head for protection against possible sand and then placed his paw on the large button drilled into the smooth wall. The reaction was immediate and as usual slightly satisfying; the cover of rough sandstone slid aside noisily to bare the entrance of the complex to the rough terrain. Zamza had always been a efficient dragon, meaning he never loitered or got lost in thought and when he looked around in the nasty weather and couldn’t see a crate he immediately turned to make his way back inside. But a tiny out of place movement caught the eye of the mirror and his heat-seeking vision. Zamza stopped in his tracks and located the visitor fully; a Nocturne, curled in against themselves in the muddy downpour. It took him a while to fully register the situation, but eventually Zamza recovered from the surprise and slowly pulled his scarf down enough to free his snout. “What are you doing out here?”

Rarely if ever had she been permitted to experience rainfall at the surface, and it did not take long to decide that it was not something she liked. But - as with most happenings related to the Institution - unpleasant occurrences were just a fact of life. There was no reason in 599's mind to panic or otherwise feel anxious, for the moment anyway.

There was no possible answer for why she was out here, and she could not fathom that any personnel of a high enough rank would have authorized her transfer to a place so far away. But then, there were a lot of things she didn't remember, and it was highly probable that they would accept memory loss as her reason for what was happening now. So highly probable that she did not even worry about it.

Her directive in such circumstance, as it were, was to travel as little as possible, which she had performed to the best of her ability. And anyway in a storm like this, the idea of flying about was absurd. So was moving in general; there was no telling what sorts of odd phenomena manifested themselves in occasions like these, and wariness of unfamiliar elemental things had served her well thus far.

When - after an impossibly long time, it seemed - another dragon emerged from a sudden hole in the ground, she regarded it with only momentary surprise. Of course with the stranger being a mirror, she had no chance of sitting still and going undetected... not that it mattered much. The customary evaluation of such chance encounters dictated that she perform neutrally, and she wasn't about to abandon protocol now.

It was clear that this particular dragon was not one of the Institution, but given that this was the Shifting Expanse - full of types like-minded to the Institution, or so she had been told - there surely was no harm in doing what she always did. "Waiting," she said. On second thought she realized it may not have been enough information to satisfy social demands, and so added, "for the collectors."

@Diabolacuna
((Oh good! Also as a side note, I was thinking of tossing in another dragon or two for funsies down the road... possibly troublemakers. I don't have a concrete idea for their mischief yet, and I'll most likely play them on the side on an as-needed basis, because who doesn't like dragon drama?))

The Nocturne was a strange sight indeed. Not only were they sitting out in the rain in the middle of nowhere, but they also seemed unnaturally calm about the fact.

Zamza frowned into his scarf - the facial shift pressed his glasses into his face which was more than a little uncomfortable - and looked the stranger up and down. She didn't seem injured nor ill, just lost. The matter-of-fact reply to his question was what had set off the warning bells in the back of the scientist's mind. He certainly did hope this wasn't a case of a head-first crash landing into a hard surface. They could probably help with something like that, but Pax was not someone to take to strays quickly and head injury wasn't something Zamza himself was familiar with.

"Would you like to come inside and wait there? Sitting out here can't be very delightful."

He was unsure of the thought process of this stranger, but a promise of some shelter should have been neutral and reassuring enough to not startle too much. Zamza gestured gently to the illuminated staircase he had just climbed.


@Serpenthyne
(( I don't mind - I must warn you though, the lab has a defense system in addition to the camoflague aspect. That system takes the shape of a pack of Steelhounds, a Stone borer and one very grumpy Ridgeback xD ))

For a moment 599 stared at the mirror, likely seeming as confused about him as he was about her. But just as quickly the hesitance evaporated and she said, "I suppose..." She wasn't sure whether his suggestion actually necessitated a response, but giving one felt like a suitable precaution. After that she eyed the staircase with some apprehension and seemed to be waiting for further directive from the mirror. Did this even fit under the Institution's standard protocol? There couldn't be much to lose, so long as she followed procedure as normal.

Whatever the case, it was very clear this stranger was probably not one of their affiliates; if he were, he would surely have recognized a lost little Institution pet project. Still, it at least reminded her to ask the one question that mattered: "Do you have a name?"

@Diabolacuna
((Yesss. Grumpy Ridgebacks are the best defense system.))

As the Nocturne seemed to be waiting for him, Zamza took lead and padded down the staircase into the main hall. The lights embedded into the walls and the ceiling shone bright, illuminating the smooth, polished stone walls, clean white floors and the odd out-of-place looking flower pots stuffed into every corner. In hindsight it perhaps was a good idea to let Dubravka leave her plants around - it certainly might make the otherwise neutral space look more inviting for outsiders. Zamza himself was just happy to be in from the the rain, especially when that meant he could peel his wet scarf off of his face and adjust his glasses.

The mirror turned to their visitor to beckon her inside if needed, and proceeded to wring his scarf out all over the floor. Unprofessional, perhaps, but the floor was built to take all kind of punishment so his professional opinion was 'do not care - am wet'.

"Ah yes. I am Zamza, I am the managing director of the group who works and lives here. And... what about you, if I may inquire?"

@Serpenthyne
((pardon my incredible slowness, work stressed me out something fierce. I'm going to try and work on some faster replies))

Once Zamza had entered the strange pathway, 599 obediently followed. She spent a moment looking around; the existence of plants was not something she had expected to see. In the Institution's pristine halls, no such decoration was allowed. To see them here only further proved that this place, whatever it was, certainly was nowhere close to her previous location. Despite that one glaring dissimilarity, the paneling and lighting were familiar, which put her a bit more at ease.

The farther inside she went, the dimmer the sound of the rain above became. Since she'd gained company the change from isolation was a welcome one, but given this was a foreign clan, she had no idea how to proceed. She decided for the time being that maintaining neutrality was best, unless circumstances demanded otherwise. "I have no name," she said, "but my identification number is five-hundred ninety-nine. I belong to the Institution's bioweapons department."

@Diabolacuna
((No problem! Life happens, just take it easy.))