Post by Taaru Masako on Sept 14, 2009 16:33:04 GMT -5
Despite his very best efforts, involving numerous hand-written and self-mailed digital notes, as well as a rubber band around a finger, Masako has once again forgotten something before leaving on an extended trip.The last time he did this, he had suffered through a campaign with the tears without a shaver. The resultant beard, upon return, had been epic...in the sense that physics professors' beards are epic. Fitting, he thinks to himself, that those that study heavenly bodies and grand unifying theories should aspire to facial hair with the same proportions.
Masako enters the cantina non-chalantly, almost as if he lives there. Following him up the circular staircase to the rented rooms, one soon realizes that he DOES live here. Preferring the easy access to downtown Coronet (as well as the government buildings and the orbital elevator to the CEC-KDY main orbital station), Taaru spends most of his time at his CCC apartment, rather than in the remoteness of the DJO Mansion.
Today, however, he is simply picking up some personal effects before the Faustus's commissioning ceremony. Having procured a sling bag, he began unceremoniously dumping the items he had come for into it...as well as some items he only realized he might need once he saw them in his apartment.
While digging through drawers for extra clothes, he accidentally bumps his injured forearm against an open cabinet. "A-ta-ta-ta," he winces, cradling it briefly as the pain subsides. A strong arm to her, that's for sure.
The night before (more correctly, early this morning) Masako had returned to the mansion with Jorunn. Their talk by the reflecting pool seemed to have cleared some things up for both of them. She had promised him to work on her temper, and while doing her best to avoid Aaron, also attempt to like him a little better. The subject (and origin) of his injury had, thankfully, not come up.
It seemed like a good compromise to him....but he still felt out of his league. He was used to an entirely different sort of thing....this....what would you call it....."parenting" didn't come to him naturally. While he technically was Jorunn's commanding officer, the nature of a Thruvaran bond of fealty interferes with the routine command structure. This was nothing new to Thruvarans; indeed, young Reiter journeymen are trained in a sort of familial, albeit mercenary, unit. But this doesn't make it easier for Taaru. He only hoped his experience with training junior members of the Tears would aid him in fulfilling his vows to Jorunn....Draconian as that sounded...
Masako finishes his packing, but gives his apartment one more run through to be sure. Inevitably, he finds a few more trinkets, and decides that he DOES want to take his vibro-kukri, which he slings onto his belt.
Satisfied, he grabs his bag, and heads for the door, bidding the room a brief adieu: He wouldn't be seeing it for quite some time after today.
Leaving, the door slides shut behind him and locks.
Masako makes his way downstairs. It is mid morning, so not many customers around, aside from the severely inebriated who are still sleeping off last night.
On a whim, Taaru decides to drop by the security room in the back. He has made it a habit to see who drops by the CCC when he visits...he, more than anyone else, understood all too well how the CCC attracted trouble...usually of the explosive variety.
After passing a biometric scan, he enters the small security room and sets his bag aside, requesting a quick rundown of the past night's customers from the droid brain overseeing surveillance in the CCC.
Nothing out of the ordinary, it seems: A bar fight quickly dissolved by a security drone, a young preparatory school student slipping his date a roofie and embarrassing himself when he drinks the wrong drink, and-
"Seltsam," he murmurs to himself.
Taaru stops the mash-up of security footage the droid brain has compiled for him, and freezes it on a group of three men in uniform. There is nothing special about them, aside from the fact that they have enough credits (or are foolhardy enough) to afford the CCC's overpriced nerf steaks. But something about them seems familiar...
Taaru spends a minute examining the footage some more, and watches as all three check out rooms for the night.
<<So they are still here?>>
At the very least, they are still checked in, he soon verifies on the CCC's guest register. Taaru juts his chin out and strokes the scruff on it, contemplating what this may portend. In doing so, he happens to glance at the chronometer on his wrist, and realizes he has spend enough time dilly-dallying with the CCC's mysteriously dressed customers.
Instead, he quickly uploads some snapshots of the three uniformed men on his datapad, intent on showing them to Jet. Maybe she would know who they are....at the very least, she would decide what to do with them.
Moments later, Taaru has left the CCC, his black swoop ferrying him back to the Mansion with a dust cloud tailing.
Masako enters the cantina non-chalantly, almost as if he lives there. Following him up the circular staircase to the rented rooms, one soon realizes that he DOES live here. Preferring the easy access to downtown Coronet (as well as the government buildings and the orbital elevator to the CEC-KDY main orbital station), Taaru spends most of his time at his CCC apartment, rather than in the remoteness of the DJO Mansion.
Today, however, he is simply picking up some personal effects before the Faustus's commissioning ceremony. Having procured a sling bag, he began unceremoniously dumping the items he had come for into it...as well as some items he only realized he might need once he saw them in his apartment.
While digging through drawers for extra clothes, he accidentally bumps his injured forearm against an open cabinet. "A-ta-ta-ta," he winces, cradling it briefly as the pain subsides. A strong arm to her, that's for sure.
The night before (more correctly, early this morning) Masako had returned to the mansion with Jorunn. Their talk by the reflecting pool seemed to have cleared some things up for both of them. She had promised him to work on her temper, and while doing her best to avoid Aaron, also attempt to like him a little better. The subject (and origin) of his injury had, thankfully, not come up.
It seemed like a good compromise to him....but he still felt out of his league. He was used to an entirely different sort of thing....this....what would you call it....."parenting" didn't come to him naturally. While he technically was Jorunn's commanding officer, the nature of a Thruvaran bond of fealty interferes with the routine command structure. This was nothing new to Thruvarans; indeed, young Reiter journeymen are trained in a sort of familial, albeit mercenary, unit. But this doesn't make it easier for Taaru. He only hoped his experience with training junior members of the Tears would aid him in fulfilling his vows to Jorunn....Draconian as that sounded...
Masako finishes his packing, but gives his apartment one more run through to be sure. Inevitably, he finds a few more trinkets, and decides that he DOES want to take his vibro-kukri, which he slings onto his belt.
Satisfied, he grabs his bag, and heads for the door, bidding the room a brief adieu: He wouldn't be seeing it for quite some time after today.
Leaving, the door slides shut behind him and locks.
Masako makes his way downstairs. It is mid morning, so not many customers around, aside from the severely inebriated who are still sleeping off last night.
On a whim, Taaru decides to drop by the security room in the back. He has made it a habit to see who drops by the CCC when he visits...he, more than anyone else, understood all too well how the CCC attracted trouble...usually of the explosive variety.
After passing a biometric scan, he enters the small security room and sets his bag aside, requesting a quick rundown of the past night's customers from the droid brain overseeing surveillance in the CCC.
Nothing out of the ordinary, it seems: A bar fight quickly dissolved by a security drone, a young preparatory school student slipping his date a roofie and embarrassing himself when he drinks the wrong drink, and-
"Seltsam," he murmurs to himself.
Taaru stops the mash-up of security footage the droid brain has compiled for him, and freezes it on a group of three men in uniform. There is nothing special about them, aside from the fact that they have enough credits (or are foolhardy enough) to afford the CCC's overpriced nerf steaks. But something about them seems familiar...
Taaru spends a minute examining the footage some more, and watches as all three check out rooms for the night.
<<So they are still here?>>
At the very least, they are still checked in, he soon verifies on the CCC's guest register. Taaru juts his chin out and strokes the scruff on it, contemplating what this may portend. In doing so, he happens to glance at the chronometer on his wrist, and realizes he has spend enough time dilly-dallying with the CCC's mysteriously dressed customers.
Instead, he quickly uploads some snapshots of the three uniformed men on his datapad, intent on showing them to Jet. Maybe she would know who they are....at the very least, she would decide what to do with them.
Moments later, Taaru has left the CCC, his black swoop ferrying him back to the Mansion with a dust cloud tailing.
