Forum for those who would like to discuss their daily lives either working for the corporation, fighting the power, or watching from the sidelines. Check your real world at the door, you're on Rubi-Ka now. This forum is strictly "In-Character" and will be moderated as such.
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The shuttle reaked of rancid sweat from the overcrowded occupants inside it's metallic hull prison. No matter the leaps in technology the economy could not afford comforts for those travelling in pseudo-squaller. In retrospect, one could wonder if they could have skipped the elaborate holographic safety instructions and spurgled for some synthizied odor neutralization agent. To the illusive nanomage woman, this was no shocking surprise. Her thin taunt lips curled into a disdainful smile as she turned her focus to her computerized manual and left the jaw jacking to the other passangers. They were clueless afterall; The joys of cynicism.
She had barely conquered the third chapter on the blueprints to the assistant droid when the interior lights faded completely only to be replaced with flashing red hues that danced and casscaded across every surface it could find. The audible alarm then sounded with blaring clarity that most passangers jumped up from the comforts of their crappy seats as if it would accomplish something. Our cynical nanomage, Darkcharms as she was nicknamed by not-so-friendly cohorts, merely turned the power of her manual off as she calmly collected her belongings. Not everyone had realized what was occuring but she certainly did. They were under attack and were likely going to crash. If one were so inclined to read the fine print of the liability waiver they signed prior to boarding they would have realized the potential for an alien attack. It was the smallest print yet the most repetitive wording throughout the entire disclaimer. Rocket scientists had nothing to do with this ephiany.
As if she was striding to reach the facilities during a concert Darkcharms merely made her way through the crowd, erie politeness chilling her voice as she offered soothing words, calming the rising panic oozing from the crowd. That unshaking placid smile almost became a beacon for others to latch on to, gripping tightly for the sake of their own sanity. It was the most quietest voice that issued from the mob yet it was the one posed question she inclined to answer truthfully.
"Are we in trouble?" posed a meek opifex male.
"Indeed. Don't worry. The Unicorns will be in route shortly after we land. It is a written mandate within the ICC boarding contract. After all, Omni-Tek Protects, right?" retorted the diplomatic witch. Not the wisest choice of words considering the diversity of sided factions on the ship. Ultimately, apathy was the winner in this scenario. Stress has a way of effecting everyone in a different way. Our Darkcharms had chosen to slip a little releasing spite into her calming verbiage. For the most part, no one noticed her tint of sarcasm. Odd that she wore the same banner in which she so casually smears with shrewd banter. Her words however were drowned out by the recycling audible warnings; Another 'luxury' they could have dummed down a bit for some damn air freshener.
The stabilizers were now in effect. She couldn't move. No one could. This meant one glorious shining fact: They were officially going down.