[Closed] from the table in the corner

[alittlesweptup]

Date & Time: November 14th, Evening
Location: Storage room off the east end loading dock
Characters: Super Secret Mutineer Club
Summary: The first and likely only group meeting of the mutineers.
Warnings: Plotting nefarious deeds
Notes: If you're on the mutineer team for the upcoming plot, get your revolutionary butt in here.

[A: SHOP TALK & TACTICS]
[While it's a slow trickle in - arrivals are staggered to keep from drawing too much attention - by the time everyone's assembled in the storage block off the east loading bay, it's begun to feel cramped and slightly less secret than it ought to be. But Charlie supposes that might just be a side effect of getting twenty odd people in a room meant for spare parts and a general anxiety about someone running their mouth when they ought not to.

He's not necessarily happy with everyone in the room - shares a few hissed words under his breath with Chloe about 'Those are children; who the hell dragged them into this?' - but it is what it is. So time to make the best of it.]

Oi, heads up. [Already a tall man, Charlie's hard to miss as he climbs up on one of the crates in the storage room. He raises his hand, snapping his fingers a few times until the low murmur of the room falls quiet.] Alright, I'm not going to waste anyone's time here. We all know why we're here - we deserve more than the Initiative's been giving over to us and can’t waste time sitting about while they come to the same conclusion. So-- [Charlie pauses; those are a lot of faces looking back at him.] --let’s not make a mess of it, shall we?

Which means [Chloe's quick to step in from behind, taking at least some of the pressure off Charlie's impressively diplomatic start.] we all know what it's gonna take to pull through this without making it any harder than it has to be. [She glances at Charlie briefly, goes back to staring out at the gathered crowd. Just as casual as ever. ] We need to slip in, grab the transporter and hold onto it for as long as it takes for us to get what we want.

What we deserve.


[B: ~*~MUTINY MIXER~*~]
[It's not much of a party without snacks. Sure, rebellions aren't all about punch and pie, and most revolutionaries prefer to starve for their ideals, but most revolutionaries aren't Chloe and Charlie. A few crates have been stacked against the far wall to lay flat as something of a makeshift table, and once the discussion winds down Chloe heads over to set out a wide variety of-- food. Sort of. Stale cookies and bottled water, left over MRE packs with the moon's sorriest excuse for silverware.

Whatever, she tried.] If anyone's hungry and needs a quick bite before heading out the door, help yourselves.

[Seriously for the love of god, someone eat the cookies. They’ve been growing slowly stale and crumbled in their room for over a week and Charlie can’t stomach the idea of trying to haul them anywhere else.]

And no one leave all at once. Twos and threes at a time.


((ooc: All responses to A should go in the shop talk sub thread; anything to do with option B/post meeting schmoozing and CR building can be individual threads!))

Comments

[hyanaimne]

[grabbing a water, Tempest gravitates to the back the back of the group, taking a seat on some crates stacked high enough that she can get a good look at the group gathered. Falling into old habits meant she was gauging strengths and weaknesses, going over the plans in her head, and - dammit, water was not a good replacement for a cheap glass of ale.

She sighs and reaches up to push back her hood, rubbing at her temple for a moment. What she wouldn't give for some alcohol right now - just enough to take the edge off her nerves]

[taggingwomprats]

Headache?

[Luke joins tempest against the far wall, taking a swig from his own bottle of water.]

[hyanaimne]

[she starts a bit at being addressed and looks over at Luke, then manages a small smile]

A bit. Mostly from nerves, I suppose.

[taggingwomprats]

[He remembers talking to Tempest when he first arrived, but it still takes hi ma moment to try and dredge her name up.]

I know what you mean. I think everyone gets something like that when we're about to do something like this.

[He mulls for a moment, staring at the far wall.]

Think we have a shot?

[hyanaimne]

Mmm, I used to get headaches while I was working. Though that was more because I was usually working with idiots.

[the smile widens a little and she shrugs]

I would not be here if I thought we did not.

[taggingwomprats]

[Luke laughs aloud.]

Well, glad you're confident, anyway. It depends on how everyone else reacts.

[hyanaimne]

How do you think they will? React, I mean.

[taggingwomprats]

Positively. I hope.

[Luke laughs. He's not sure, but he's pretending he is.]

We're just trying to do what's best, right?

[hyanaimne]

Mm, we are. It is about time something like this happened.

[miscreant]

Troubled, lady?

[At some point, Seviilia had snuck through the gaggle and appeared beside Tempest, now sporting a slightly sobered grin.]

I did not expect to see a familiar face here.

[hyanaimne]

[Tempest glances over and blinks in surprise. She doesn't smile or grin, but her expression - which had been slightly annoyed, due to the beginnings of a headache, softens a bit]

Nor I, really. How have you been?

[miscreant]

I am here, am I not? I would say anyone present has been out of sorts since the relocation.

[She picks up a water, but doesn't open it. Instead, Tempest might notice its surface begin to gather condensation as she chills its temperature idly.]

[hyanaimne]

Out of sorts . . . what a pleasant way to put it.

[oh, she notices. It's a little hard not to]

[miscreant]

Would you prefer "mad with cabin fever"?

[She is not exempt, but she's excellent at hiding it.]

[hyanaimne]

I think "utterly mad" in general works very well. That is how I have started to feel, anyway.

[miscreant]

A pity. One can only hope we will succeed, hm?

[She sets the waterbottle aside for someone to pick up later -- its about half frozen now.]

Are you nervous?

[hyanaimne]

Mm, I certainly hope we will.

[the question, though, makes her grin] A bit. Though I always get a tad nervous over these sort of things.

[skennen]

[Connor comes shuffling over after a while with a handful of stale cookies. He settles for sitting on the floor beside her crates, but he does follow her lead in taking his hood off.]

You all right?

[hyanaimne]

[Tempest blinks in surprise down at Connor - a good surprise. She can't say it's shocking to find him here, but she's glad to see a familiar face. She pushes herself off the crate, then takes a seat next to him instead, so she doesn't have to keep looking down]

I am fine. [she offers him a small smile] It has been a while since we last spoke.

[skennen]

It has.

[He offers her one of his cookies when she moves down beside him. As stale as the cookies are, he's being a trooper about eating them.]

I apologize that I have not kept in touch with you. At the very least, I have owed you my thanks for your help. My wounds healed very well.

[hyanaimne]

[she takes the offered cookie, but doesn't take a bite. She had one and that was horrible, so when Connor isn't looking she'll dispose of it properly. It would be rude to do that in front of him]

You owe me nothing, Connor. I am glad that I was able to help you, especially after all of your efforts.

[skennen]

[It might be rude, but he wouldn't be offended given how many traits the cookies share with rocks.]

I still intend to repay you.

[A perfectly amiable warning. Argue all you like but...]

[hyanaimne]

[she smiles a little - genuine and a little touched. She never did things that even deserved being repaid, so this is new to her]

I cannot stop you, dear.

[skennen]

[He smiles back, snapping a cookie in half.]

Few can.

[hyanaimne]

My. Should I be on guard for your repayment, then?

[she's never seen him smile, so obviously she has to joke with him to make him keep smiling]