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lyle dylandy. (

guinness) wrote in

docking,
@ 2009-01-15 17:54:00

LOG - OPEN
CHARACTERS: lyle dylandy (

guinness), anyone else who wants to join
TIME, SETTING: today, outer space
WARNINGS: just an open log for people to wander around, dock in space ports, walk into space bars, randomly mingle... everyone is welcome to post and bump into random characters. good times!

SENTINEL III could be quiet if you knew where to go. But to get there, you had to go through all the loud parts. The main docking bay on SENTINEL III was a nightmare on the quietest of days, a crush of people trying to get in and get out and no one polite enough to say anything when they slammed into you, either. Oh well. Lyle didn't need people to be polite--just needed people to ignore him, which they did. It could get you down if what you were going for wasn't anonymity. Lyle tucked his collar up closer around his face and moved through the crowd, not too determined and not too lazy. Just the right amount of nothing to remain totally inconspicuous.

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erde
2009-01-15 11:47 pm UTC (link)

Alternatively, the less relaxed person would have a bit more difficulty accepting the traffic and bustle of said docking bay. Say one cold, irritated, less than pleased figure: clad in clothes that didn't stand out as much as drew an upraised eyebrow and curious glance from every other person or so. This was not this figure's ideal mission, location nor choice of spending the present afternoon, but such was business. Which wasn't to say he hadn't outright refused to comply, because he had, but alas, here he was, arms tightly crossed against his chest and eyes slightly narrowed.

He was to retrieve a package for a superior. The contents were classified, but knowing the woman he was working under and the location he was instructed to find (a tavern, Sumeragi?) -- well, his guess was fairly accurate. The directions to his target location were oddly vague and Tieria looked exactly as he felt, as he pushed (more accurately: being pushed) through the crowd: irritated, cross and well, lost.

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guinness
2009-01-15 11:57 pm UTC (link)

Now, that was just a recipe for disaster, wasn't it? Or at least for stepping on someone's foot. It just so happened that Lyle's target for the day--target sounded so ominous, didn't it? It wasn't anything quite that serious, more like keeping tabs on, or just confirming some whereabouts--was of medium height, relatively small build, purple hair...

Wasn't it funny how these things worked out sometime? You're looking for a guy in a crowd, like a needle in a haystack, one small star out of the thousands, and the next thing you know, you're bumping into him, all elbows.

"Excuse me, my fault," Lyle said; the double-take wasn't because of poor spymanship (of course not) but because of the guy's eyes... "You all right there?"

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erde
2009-01-16 12:23 am UTC (link)

He wouldn't of looked twice if it hadn't of been for that hair: which was the only thing he caught from the corner of his eye. He had been elbowed and stepped on and prodded since he had landed, but the only thing different was this form of abuse came with an apology and a familiar face.

The name came to him immediatley. They had just met, and, well, he had been sent out on his mission alone. It was simple retrieval. Obtain the package, spend the night, return in the morning. Did they send the other man to make sure he was doing his job? Was he being watched? Were they questioning his competency?

His arms cross tighter, and his eyes narrow, immediatley beyond agitated. Good luck there, Lyle.

"Lockon Stratos."

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guinness
2009-01-16 12:28 am UTC (link)

The first thing that came to mind when he heard that was... well, an inglorious Huh? But at least he occasionally thought lighter on his feet than that; he wasn't a complete moron, not all the time, because if he was, he'd already be dead. See? Not dead, not totally stupid. Not totally brilliant, either.

But if there was one thing a twin got used to, it was being mistaken for somebody else. And even if he didn't know who Lockon Stratos was, he had a pretty good guess as to who it really was.

You've got the wrong guy, Lyle thought, and then offered his best, good-guy, Neil Dylandy grin. He'd seen it work on people enough that he knew exactly what it looked like. It just wasn't second nature to him the way it was to some people.

"Well, in any case, it's my fault entirely."

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	erde 2009-01-16 12:45 am UTC (link)
	Well that just confirmed it, didn't it? That grin. Who bumped into who was the last thing on his mind now -- and he certainly wasn't about to let this drop. He was quite capable of retrieving a package. And to act so nonchalant, so ignorant, well... He wasn't happy. "Why are you here?" (Reply to this)(Parent)(Thread)

guinness
2009-01-16 12:48 am UTC (link)

How was it that Neil deflected again? Just his winning and honest personality, usually...but how to best and most accurately represent that? Son of a bitch. Neil had this habit of laughing and ruffling his own hair while he thought, though, Lyle remembered that--hey, it had been a while. "Sentinel III's a busy place! I could just as easily ask you the same question."

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partner
2009-01-16 12:56 am UTC (link)

He was supposed to be doing something, honestly, but for the life of him he just couldn't recall what. It might have had a little something to do with the fact a certain someone also forgot to give him his instructions in the first place. It was of little consequence however, because Haro was just as intent on rolling around and getting a feel of the dock; it wasn't his first time visiting the place but he was still excited nonetheless.

Despite being constantly told not to do so, bumping into people's ankles was one of his favorite things to do; even more so when he wasn't paying attention to whom he was bumping into. Needless to say, when he gives a certainly not suspicious and not inconspicuous familiar's shoe a light tap with his head, one can imagine his surprise.

"Lockon! Lockon!" he bounces in place and hopes to god he isn't going to get yelled at again. Whatever it was Lockon was doing here (how he even managed to appear ahead of him so quickly) never crossed his mind, and not just because Haro doesn't think.

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aiming
2009-01-16 01:05 am UTC (link)

Well aware of the trouble Haro could get into on his own, Neil had been searching for him for sometime in the docking bay. He hadn't been at the ship, and while it was difficult to find a normal-sized person in the docking bay, it was nearly impossible to find a tiny familiar robot. It was especially hard because he was trying not to attract too much attention to himself on this planet, and that meant not bumping into people and not grabbing someone's orange, round handbag just because it looked like something else.

In fact, he was so focused on finding Haro that when he did track him down, he didn't notice who he'd run into. Neil bent down, scooping the robot up in both hands and frowning.

"You keep running off like that, I'm gonna have to put a leash on you," he reprimanded, before looking up. "Sorry about tha..."

Oh.

Oh. That--well. It had been awhile since he'd seen it, but that face was unmistakeable. His brother.

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erde
2009-01-16 01:16 am UTC (link)

His mouth was open -- he had some retort on his tongue, he was irritated enough at the man's presence, and his evasion of the topic was only making his temper worse. They weren't in the most convenient of locations either -- smack dab in the middle of a knot of people, who unlike Lyle, weren't about to stop and apologize for their elbows and random limbs jabbing into him.

The chain of events happened too fast for him to react properly -- seeing Haro again, only confirmed his accusation, then seeing a familiar head of hair, again, on-

What?

Cue the first double take of Tieria's life: and the most unsure expression to ever grace his face. Tieria, meet the sensation of speechlessness.

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guinness
2009-01-16 01:19 am UTC (link)

That backfired.

A lot.

It was awkward before, but it was ten times worse now, and seeing the look on the guy's face, he actually felt pretty bad he'd panic-lied in the first place. He felt sorry for himself, too, because this sucked. And what about that little robot? That thing knew he wasn't Lockon. Robots were always smarter than they looked; cute little ones were always way smarter than they acted; and this one definitely knew the score. Was that on purpose?

"Yeah..." So. "Huh. Fancy meeting you here, right? I've got some stuff to take care of, so I'll just be going." Graceful exit; if only it wasn't so damn crowded...

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partner
2009-01-16 01:28 am UTC (link)

There's some slight vibrating as his eyes blinked; perhaps he was happy now, being safe and secure and not yelled at in Lockon's arms. Or rather, his Lockon; it took a split second for him to realize it but indeed, he'd made a mistake. As with most things however, it wasn't that big of an issue for him, not that big of an issue at all. And besides, judging by the way everyone seemed to tense, perhaps this little slip-up of his had its silver lining.

"Sorry! Sorry!" he remembers his manners however, because Haro prides himself on being a good boy (unlike some people here, he noted), and even gives a few more blinks to emphasize his sincerity. He knew better, after all (again, unlike some people.)

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aiming
2009-01-16 01:36 am UTC (link)

He hadn't even noticed who Lyle was standing with, that associate he'd just met--he looked angry, and confused, and for once Neil was almost positive they were on the exact same page because of all the people in the entire galaxy he'd ever thought he might run into, Lyle Dylandy wasn't one of them. His brother was pretty good at flying under the radar, and it wasn't like Neil had been looking.

But still.

He patted Haro absentmindedly on the head as he called out: "Wait!"

Only he didn't really know what came after that, and there was the matter of Tieria Erde still not knowing entirely what was going on and this--this was bad. He was pretty good as far as awkward situations went, but he couldn't see any way out of this one.

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erde
2009-01-16 01:46 am UTC (link)

He was being sidetracked.

Was this a test? Was this set up to see if he could be distracted...? Regardless. He was clearly sponging in the tension of this situation, and he felt no need to echo his earlier questions to the second Lockon Stratos (who, upon second glancing, was certainly the man he had met the other day). Twins? This couldn't be a coincidence -- the odds were too disproportionate. With great effort (he was seething, but it was now that quiet rage, the wordless kind) he looks away from the twins, pulling a piece of paper out of his pocket.

87 West Street.

It was far, but if he resumed walking now, he'd make it to the tavern before dark. Then he could complete his mission, and return to base in the morning. Which was what he had to focus on: and not the extreme discomfort both men on either side of him was causing. He clears his throat, and without glancing at either of them, turns to walk in an opposite direction.

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guinness
2009-01-16 01:55 am UTC (link)

Tavern, huh? Well, if only Lyle had known that.. It was actually where he was headed, or had been headed, before this ridiculous little incident had occurred. But that was just too much of a coincidence, wasn't it? It wasn't possible they were going to the same place.

The sound of his brother's voice brought him up short, and he hesitated for a moment, turning around to cast a glance back at the little group.

Seemed like they'd broken up already. He lifted a hand to his brow, in a half-salute, then allowed the crowd to do what a crowd did best--slipping into the crush and disappearing. He was going to have to get off Sentinel III--and fast. Couldn't chance having that happen again. And you thought space was vast...

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starwind
2009-01-16 12:25 am UTC (link)

The thing about space was that it was quiet. Just you and your ship and the wide, silent vastness all around. A guy could get used to living that way. A guy did get used to living that way, and while Gene enjoyed his crowds every now and then, the docking bay at SENTINEL III was a pretty rude awakening after having spent so much time off-world.

"Free fuel," he muttered to himself, ducking a man carrying a titanium beam and weaving around a woman toting baskets of chickens. "Free fuel, free fuel, satisfactory pay."

That last one made him grimace a little, but there was nothing to be done. Gene couldn't exactly afford to be the pickiest man in the galaxy. In fact, he was about one step away from taking any jobs that came his way, and that was a dangerous position to be in.

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luo
2009-01-16 12:32 am UTC (link)

Good thing he was so desperate, or else Fred would never get to see him! Or get a few bonecrushing hugs in, either. And what a touching reunion it was! Gene never showed how he really felt, but that was the sort of man he was; he didn't like overt displays of affection, or getting too emotional in front of strangers. It was why Fred always dismissed his bodyguards when they met... That, and he actually trusted Gene. One of the few people he knew he could trust, but that was neither here nor there.

"You smell like the docking bay," Fred sighed, finally letting go. "And you're five minutes late! I thought something terrible had happened to you!"

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starwind
2009-01-16 12:47 am UTC (link)

"Hurk," said Gene, trying to ignore the sense that his ribs were cracking and splintering into his internal organs. It wasn't a fact he liked to examine closely (or at all, if it came to that), but Fred was a big guy. Much bigger than Gene. And apparently he didn't know his own strength, which would be fine if he kept his hands to himself, but he didn't.

"It's ...n-nice to see you too, Fred. Had a bit of trouble finding my way." He peeled loose as soon as he was released, and adjusted the set of his cape over his shoulders.

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luo
2009-01-16 01:01 am UTC (link)

Why so formal, Fred might have said, but business was business and Fred wasn't one to waste precious time. "All right, all right, I can tell you're eager to get started, but this is a matter of actual delicacy, so do try not to jump the proverbial gun." Steepling his fingers, savoring the moment--alone, together, in his office, almost like real friends!--Fred sighed. "All right, the information's all been uploaded to your system."

There really wasn't any reason to come see him...except for this enjoyable moment of togetherness.

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starwind
2009-01-16 01:15 am UTC (link)

"I saw," Gene said, flopping down on one of the couches readily available in Fred's office.

The bodyguards weren't in the room, which meant he could do it without worrying about whether or not he was gonna get shot in the head for being rude to the master of the house and man it was weird thinking about Fred as someone's master. But the guy knew his shit. He was one of the most reliable businessmen Gene knew, even if he was a tightfisted stickler for things like ship parts and fuel. Still, Gene dealt with him more than anyone else. When Fred said there was a job, he could at least figure it would be worth his time.

"This was on the way, I figured I'd stop by." Stopping at SENTINEL III was almost like a habit, since it was the closest thing to a home Gene had. When he thought about it, he didn't actually have a good reason, he'd just done it.

When it came right down to it, Gene did a lot of things that way.

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blondheir
2009-01-16 03:15 am UTC (link)

Traveling through space was sometimes an adventure so spectacular you couldn't describe it, other times a kind of education you never knew you needed. And, in some cases, never really wanted. When anything and everything became scarce, all manner of interesting replacements for the fuel you didn't have or the toothbrush that was no longer being manufactured on this planet (due to disuse) surfaced. Usually unexpectedly.

Quatre Winner was in the process of making a private encyclopedia of these things, so that he would never end up on said toothbrush-less world without procuring a spare in advance. In fact, that was the whole purpose of being on Sentinel III in the first place. The Sandrock having been recently repaired, Quatre was enjoying the return of his freedom and... the potential return of food that did not resemble things still living.

That is, if he could get where he was going. Terminally polite, Quatre was sometimes at a loss in crowded areas where pushing and shoving were pre-requisites. Better to wait until a path opened up -- and it very rarely did -- so that he made his progress a few feet at a time, smiling and apologizing as he went.

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