2009-01-06 (PreU) Fortune Favours the Bold

Fortune Favours the Bold
Summary: Following on from the last log, Niamh leads Jack deeper into a rare stable pocket of Twisted, searching for her ship and a way back home. Little does the phoenix know that the fey has a greater scheme in mind, or that another familiar face has caught his trail. Who: Jack_Karrde, niamh, sun When: January 6th, 2009 Where: The Twisted World	The information contained within this log is to be considered information gained Out of Character (OOC). This information may not be used as In Character (IC) knowledge or in roleplay unless it has been learned in-game or permission has been granted by the parties involved. Questions should be directed to staff. The Twisted World You have left the Twisted Street. Wether a mistake or on purpose, you find yourself out in Twisted World. As soon as your foot leaves the pavement, the street disappears from behind you. The wind picks up into a desert storm, dirt beneath your feet, then changes into a gentle grassy plain, the sun warming your body. You then find yourself in a frigid wasteland, nearly on the verge of freezing to death, and then you find yourself upon a long black expanse of nothing. Complete and total emptiness. The world continues to change and bend around you, and there is no rhyme or reason to the madness. Sometimes, the setting will stay for awhile, but then creatures and beasts tend to appear, hungry for souls, hungry for flesh, hungry for you. Fortune does indeed favour the bold. As Niamh leads Jack out across the desert plain, they have little to contend with but the weather. Stinging clouds of dust, carried far by the heated winds, whip against the pair, lashing hard and fast enough to impede progress for the average traveller. The fey woman is naturally unconcerned, pausing only momentarily to reset the goggles over her bright blue eyes before she continues ahead, skirts billowing as strong legs carry her at a brisk pace. "I'm looking for my ship," she calls back over her shoulder, after several minutes have already passed. Niamh has simply assumed the despondent redhead can and will keep up thus far, and has made no effort to check. "She's in a pitiful state, but it's hardly the first time. Let me know if you spot a heap of scorched metal - not that there's any reason I wouldn't see it too. Nothing out here but sand and rocks." As she speaks the last, she has drifted to a halt, lifting a hand to shield the top of her goggles - rather unnecessarily - as she scans the horizon. She waits until she feels Jack nearby, then glances toward him with a sudden bark of laughter, "It's Niamh, by the way. Niamh mac Lir." A shoulder lifts in a careless shrug, as the opposite arm extends, fingers open for either a warrior's grip or the more traditional handshake. Call it a test of Jack's tendencies. She flashes a grin, "Captain mac Lir if you're feeling formal." Karrde hmms and nods. Yep, he's still there, seems he's moving through this storm of sand and dust easy. At Mac Lir's words he nods. A Captain, and he mentally files that away. Taking her hand he gives it a shake, but he has a strong grip. "Jack Karrde, former Captain of the Falcon. A ship I lost." and he hmms, "We'll find your ship and I'll see what I can do to fix it up. I'm good with ship." and as for the storm, "Allow me to fix this one problem." and he lifts a hand, "Wall." he says simply as a barrier goes to surround them both, keeping the grit and all off of them both"...This should be better." he says simply. Niamh's own grip is surprisingly strong - or perhaps it's not so surprising from a young woman who carries herself as she does, all confident swashbuckling swagger. Everything about her stance and her movements advertises that it runs through and through; she may be a showman, but it's an act built upon firm foundations. As she retracts her hand, she inclines her head to Jack, a slight smile dimpling one cheek as she considers him a moment. It almost looks as if she's telling herself 'I told you so'... Her expression changes when the phoenix works his curious magic, brow raising as she glances to the side, observing the scattering sand particles with genuine admiration. "You are a handy one, aren't you?" She casts her gaze back to him with a chuckle, and flips her goggles up for the second time, leaving the raised hand to run back through wind-teased hair as she turns away and resumes walking. "But this ship, it's... not what you might be used to. I'll need to check out the damage, but if what I /suspect/ is wrong is wrong, what I could really do with is a large source of heat. The rest is elementary." She spares herself a laugh at that. See what she did there? "But enough about the Ember. We'll find her when we find her; I can explain everything then. What about you, Jack Karrde? You cut a tragic figure, you speak of loss and regret, and yet you willingly choose to come to a place like this. A place where people like me," she flickers a glance back toward him, "People like /us/ are made to thrive. Limitless possiblities, conflict and danger and excitement... I don't believe for a moment you hadn't considered that." A hand lifts heavenward, palm indicating the invisible ceiling. "You're not a stupid man." Karrde thinks for a moment. Heat he can supply, it's a simple matter there. And as for the question he hmms, "..I can't say. Perhaps to see if I could remember..what it was like when the world wasn't so complicated and the lines were not as bluured. There was good, evil. And people like us, that danced with danger, that live on the edge of disaster." he sighs, "..Part of me, misses it." and he sighs, "..Or just to forget the pain and remember the glory days." "Hmm," Her lips purse as Niamh considers the phoenix's response, maintaining an even stride while she glances up past the barrier, through the storm, into the distorted skies. "History," she begins after a few moments' silence, tone as soft as it ever is - still imbued with a little of that burning spirit, "Twists in loops and circles. Even were this world not what it was, I'd say the same; there are no endings, no beginnings, nothing but the infinite passage of time. Only our imaginations limit us - and they can be a burden, to be sure," she throws out a shrug, then spins about, continuing to walk backward as she lifts a dextrous finger toward the phoenix. "You do remember the best days of your life, or they wouldn't /be/ the best days of your life. There's no need to summon any deeply-forgotten part of yourself, that part /already exists/. Life is no more complicated than we choose to make it." She breaks her serious demeanour with her trademark grin, fixing Jack with a vibrant gaze before twisting back around. "And I choose to make it simple. Enjoy yourself, or don't. Fighting for what you believe in? Admirable. Why not make it fun?" She breathes a sudden sigh, not so much world-weary as self-satisfied. The sigh of a performer satisfied at their own little play. "Do you understand what I'm saying, Jack Karrde? If it's honouring the fallen that you're worried about... honour them through your actions. We've all lost loved ones. We've all failed to be the person we want to be. Move on!" And the Outlaw Phoenix, does listen and his gaze is distant as he remembers the triumphs and the losses. Samantha, Arikami, Aerial, Hotaru..he wasn't there when they needed a him. But he remembers what it was like to fight for what he believed in..alongside heroes or by himself, with only his wits and near infinite power as his weapons. No, it's not regret of failing that holds him down, it's fear of becoming close to anyone so he wouldn't have to lose them again. And he fills his lungs with fear...and exhales, letting it out bit by bit. He has a long road ahead of him, but this is a start. And a mirror of Niamh's cocky grin appears on his face, "Let's find your ship." he says with a wink. Head flung proudly back, tarnished golden locks billowing, face lit up with self-assurance, Niamh mac Lir keeps the subtle portion of her senses trained upon Jack Karrde. There's a reason she was called captain; far aside from her fey nature, and the peculiar breed of controlled madness that comes with it - or may simply be part of her character, warts and all. She waits a few moments, listens for the long breath, and casts her gaze to the phoenix once more. The smile on her lips now is momentarily far from brash, not touched by selfish desire. Though, the dip of the chin that accompanies it is such a confident and mature gesture that on a girl barely into adulthood she may well come across as pretentious. Soon enough the moment passes, the grin flares back into life, and Jack is tossed a wink in turn, long lashes fluttering together over a blazing blue eye. "As you say, Captain Karrde." And she says nothing else, turning about and increasing her pace, practically obliterating the landscape as she feeds off the positive emotion in the man. Call it fey, or call it simple human empathy, she is as energised as he is. The journey is not a short one, but it seems mere minutes have passed before wreckage looms upon the horizon, a bulky beast of riveted plates and dented rotor blades lying in a wide furrow at the base of a crumbling cliff. "...bingo," murmurs the fairy rogue, unconsciously setting a hand to the hilt of her sabre, gaining a distinct extra swagger as she starts to close upon her pride and joy. And Jack, he blinks as he sees the state of the ship. "..Ow.." he sums up in the understatement of the century. And he follows Niamh, and he pulls his katana, never know when some beastie might be out there wanting to munch on a fey and phoenix. Hmm...Colonel Sanders would like that recipe, he thinks as he moves to the ship, "...And just Jack, I don't have a ship anymore." he says with a smirk. "Might fix that." he says as he moves in slowly, with all the training of a seasoned warrior. His gaze darting to a fro in case of any surprises this place has. One thing he knows about chaos, anything can happen. That familiar feeling...that familiar smell. She knows it well, after many nights spent curled up with the source. She should be scared...and part of her is extremely scared, frightened that she is getting herself into far more trouble than she wants. But the other part of her is quite curious...that old flame she had, back in the days when she was alive...when she still had the emotional capacity to feel love. Then she lost everything. Sure...she has someone whom she sort-of cares for, now...but the feelings aren't the same as they were when she was alive. Now it's just a sort of...fondness, a mild desire to keep the dragon boy around, and a mild aversion to sending him away. But that doesn't stop her curiousity...she wants to SEE Karrde, with her own two eyes. A fair distance back, the dracoliche stands upon a large rock, watching the pair with silent curiousity. To all appearances and senses, she is alive...warm, tan skin, dark red hair, blue eyes, whole, untorn wings...a beating heart...the illusion ability that Skeeve gave to her as a gift has served her well, and is so elaborate that even she is almost fooled into believing she is alive again. She idly touches the pin that holds one side of her bangs back, away from her face, before crouching on the rock. Should she? Will she? She hates being so horribly undecided. It makes her feel helpless. Alive. And she has quite the aversion to being alive. With a frown, she steps off of the rock, going against her instincts to turn tail and run, to follow the pair...though she does make sure to keep a nice, long distance from the pair. When did it come to this? When did Jack...Jack, whom she once loved so very, very much...become such a menacing, frightening figure in her mind? Surely her undeath was a primary reason...and her insistence on clinging to the numbness it brought to her. Sun silently shakes her head as she follows behind the phoenix and the fae, unable to fight the invisible force that tugs her towards them... "It's really not as bad as it looks..." She may tail off, but Niamh sounds reasonably certain about that. Jack's caution is marked with a slight nod, as much to confirm to herself that he's ready and willing to deal with danger as clarify to him that this is a necessary action. "And we /are/ fixing that. You've arrived here for a fresh start, hm?" She allows the rhetoric to hang a moment longer, surveying the chassis of the Ember with a keen eye as they get ever closer. A huge rent at the back of one flank appears to be the largest source of damage; an entire panel of orange-brown metal flayed open down the centre. "And a fresh start you shall have." Again the fey picks up her pace, unaware of the powerful creature not too far hence, sabre and pistol jangling merrily at her waist as she approaches the cratered earth. A boot sets to the brink of the wide swathe, the other foot lifting in the air before she tumbles into a graceful flip, following it with another the moment she touches the clitter halfway down. She lands in a catlike crouch at the base, perhaps twenty feet from the plain and out from Jack's barrier - which is now unnecessary, the storm passing far overhead, then straightens up with a barked laugh. Niamh turns to face the phoenix, supposing he emerges at the lip above, and throws her arms up to either side, standing framed against the vision of her crashed airship. "As a member of my crew. Welcome to the Rogue Ember, Jack Karrde!" As Niamh makes her move to get onto the ship Jack hmms and lips, pulling off his own acrobatic stunt, a flip followed by a twist to land on the ship softly he allows a grin at the face he hasn't lost it. And then...and then...Niamh makes her announcment, "Huh?" and like that he slips and falls off the ship into the sand below. Coming to his feet he mutters and leaps back onto the ship, "..Where'd THAT come from?" Yeah, shocked to say the least, he wasn't expecting to be drafted!! She's gone unnoticed so far...that's both a good and a bad thing. Curiousity draws Sun closer, until she comes close enough to the crater to see better, while still not drawing too much attention to herself. She crouches near a rock, watching the phoenix's actions. He hasn't changed in the slightest, just as she figured...but it's still amazing to see him again. Terrifying, but awe-inspiring at the same time. However, she's too frightened of the fact that he could easily kill her with both arms tied behind his back. And she doesn't exactly know if he'll react favorably or unfavorably to her nearness. She certainly isn't doing much to hide herself, however. Jack could probably notice her by now, without trying too hard. She might have the illusion of life...but she still has the aura of a necromancer... As Jack lands upon the rust-toned hulk, the rattle of hollow metal sends off a booming echo which emits from the torn hole as a dull, fluctuating roar. It almost sounds as though something shifts inside, altering the pitch of the sound before it settles once more; but any further movement could simply be lost in the scraping vibrato as the phoenix slips from the chassis. The astute mechanic in him might also note that there's very little about the Ember to suggest it's airworthy even with a good repair job... "Come on, Karrde," Niamh cajoles the man with a wide grin as he tumbles to the sand before her, once more running a hand through her dirty blonde hair, "I told you I'd show you how to live. What did you think I meant?" Her eyes sparkle with mirth as she tracks his progress back up onto the ship, the second rattle of feet sending out a second warbling echo. "I'm pretty easy to serve under, about all I expect is you respect the ship and you have the right outlook in life. I told you my dreams were simple." A hand lifts, pulled into a fist before one finger flicks out, "First and foremost, to enjoy life. No matter what, no matter how, no matter with whom." A shoulder lifts, "At least, within r-" Suddenly she bites her sentence short, canting her head as the echo within the airship appears not to have died down. She knows the Ember, she knows the noises it makes; whether airborne or beached, as it is now. "Huh." The utterance of that single perplexed syllable heralds an explosion of force, as the rent in the Rogue Ember is torn a little wider by a bulging, monstrous head. Dinky black eyes perch within folds of muscular flesh, toned the pale pinkish-white of a subterranean creature. A wide mouth opens, bearing fragmented shards of teeth, and the whole mass flexes on a long neck as it emerges into the searing desert heat. It's a toss-up as to who reacts first; the phoenix or the fey, and likely neither will have time to track who. With instinctive speed the lifeform snaps at Karrde with that dry, foul-smelling maw. On the ground, beautifully forged metal sings as Niamh's sabre glimmers in the dim light afforded by the sandstorm. With a flex of toned legs she is flying toward the battle... but perhaps she hesitates a moment longer than strictly necessary... Just how fast /is/ Jack Karrde? And as the thing comes down on JAck he looks up and like that he's gone. Appearing a few yards away he snarls, "..You know. I really am beginning to hate you critters." he comments as he leaps into the air, going up a good distance he holds out a hand, "...So..all I can say it this." he says as energy gathers and explodes out in the form of several ribbons of energy, aiming at the creature no less. Yep, hit hard right off the bat. And he looks at Niamh, "Second in command." he says as he leaps away again, he knows that thing is too tough to be felled by a few mid level blasts. Huh. Well, that's easy. that creature thing just completely masked her nearness to the two. Sun tilts her head to the side, simply watching Jack in action for the moment. She could leap in and kill the beast...but then again, she could just watch. Torn, she listens to Jack and Niamh's exchange, playing possible situations out in her head. She knows Jack can handle himself...and the undead part of her just wants to stay the hell away with him. But the part of her that is still so deeply rooted in the past wants so badly to simply jump in and help her old flame. The past Sun wins this argument. With nearly blinding movements, she shoots out from her cover...and then, she's hovering silently, right behind the monster, with a large katana in one hand, aimed at the base of the beast's skull. She attempts to drive the blade into the back of the creature's neck, to cut it's spinal cord. Her eyes aren't focussed on the beast, however...she's watching to Phoenix, fear and curiousity shining in her eyes, her body tensed to either run away or towards the Phoenix, depending on his reaction... Jack's assault is more effective than he might believe, each shining stream slamming it this way and that. The creature screams with pain and instinctive rage, twisting about to search for the prey-turned-predator. It's at this moment that the fey woman appears as if from nowhere - her leap delayed with a couple of light bounds off the rotary mechanisms lining the airship's side. In a commotion of skirts and hair she launches past the beast, saying nothing... sometimes actions really do speak louder... Niamh's passing slash carries the gleaming edge of her blade clear across the fleshy protrusion between the thing's eyes, garnering a guttural croak of pain. Watery crimson scatters in a steep arc, peppering the fey and her ship as she lands upon it's side, braced upon her left forearm and a raised boot. She cannot maintain the perch for long; but she does not intend to, launching herself off with a soft grunt to fly back toward the stunned monstrosity. This time her sabre moves in a scathing backhand to the upper neck, drawing a second torrential spray and flaying fatty flesh wide open. The beast rears back in pain, slamming the wreckage of the Rogue Ember against the cliffside, bringing down a miniature avalanche of sandy clitter. Landing on the ship's roof beside Jack, balancing easily despite the commotion, Niamh looks up at him with a shit-eating grin, face spattered with grit and blood. "Deal!" She throws her free hand toward him to close the deal, whipping her gaze to their opponent as it seems to recover, moving sluggishly to fix them with a soulless stare. In the confusion, the Ember's captain has missed one important detail... Bright blue eyes widen as they alight upon the hovering dracoliche, curiosity burning in the fey's stare as she straightens, scattering the blood off her weapon with a sharp twist of the wrist. "Well, well. I was about to hand the finishing blow to you, Karrde, but it seems we've got some more company. Another friend of yours?" As Sun makes her move. Jack's eyes narrow and glow for a moment. Yep, it's Sun. Still undead. As the thing finally falls the Outlaw Phoenix dispells the energy he was gathering for the final blow. And he sheaths his katana as he nods to Niamh, "Old friend. Girlfriend..take ya pick." he says with a matter of fact tone. And he sighs, "What brings you out here Sunny?" he asks as he watches the dracoliche. No violence offered..he's simply being the eye of the storm. Utter calm. A far cry from the one that used to be so passionate in everything...be it fighting and other things. The creature lets out a piercing shriek as Sun's blade pierces it's skin...then, the creature's painful cries are cut off as the dracoliche's sword is embedded in it's neck, down to the hilt. She holds it there, it's neck dangling loosely in fresh death, now covered in blood and sand. She watches the dead creature on her blade for a long moment, before reaching out and sliding it off of her blade with her foot. It's head flops lifelessly to the ground, kicking of a cloud of sand. Sun remains still as a statue for a long moment, her eyes never leaving Jack. Then, she taps the tip of the sword against the ruby set into a bracer on her left hand. The sword dissapears...then, she's sitting on a rock, a good distance from Jack, still. "I smelled you, Jack." She allows a small smile to touch her cheeks as she watches the Phoenix. It's easy to determine, from her posture, that she's still scared of him... "Right..." Niamh watches Jack with a smirk as he explains the situation, waiting until he sheathes his blade before she turns away with an exhalation of breath, ramming her own sword almost carelessly back into it's sheath. "Then I'll check out the damage, and leave you lovebirds to it for a while." An amused glance is shot to Sun as the teleporting dragon-girl - and make no mistake, that's an interesting thing to be - shifts herself onto something a little more comfortable. The fey woman makes good on her promise, briskly loping to the rent from which the cavern-dwelling beast emerged and leaning to peer into the darkness of the airship interior. There's not much inside; a pocket for the gases that keep the hulk afloat, along with the lingering tail-end of the slain creature. It appears to basically be a huge snake, albeit with strange torso-like lumps scattered along its considerable length. Leaping down inside, Niamh sets about hefting the last ten or so feet out of her ship, only the sound of scuffing boots and the odd soft grunt emitting from within as Jack and Sun are given their time to speak 'privately'. Karrde nods to Niamh, "Okay." he says softly. He can tell the damage is gonna be a pain to fix. He's seen enough damaged ships, caused a few ships to go boom, to know that kinda damage. And he looks at Sun, "So Sun. What's been up with you?" he doesn't have to use his low level psi powers to tell she's scared, it's charging the air, so he respects her unspoken wishes and keeps a good distance. And no powers flaring or anything, his weapons put away. Even his glaive. Thankful for the fact that he keeps his distance, the dracoliche relaxes visibly. She watches Niamh go about doing her thing, her head tilted to the side for a moment, before turning back to the phoenix, the curiousity (almost) outshining the fear. "Not too much...just been...around. Here." She shrugs a bit. "If you could call being a hermit being around." She shrugs, glancing back to the ship awkwardly and rubbing her arm. The illusion DOES make her seem alive. She even has a heartbeat, blood flowing through her veins. She looks good...if a bit on the tired side. "Haven't really done much...Lone Wolf was here for a while..." She winces visibly. Aparently that's a sensitive subject. "...But he dissapeared a while ago." Karrde hmms, "I see. Yeah, I been a hermit. Travelling dimensions. Really just watching and learning." he comments as he goes to light up a cigarette. Seems that bad habit has returned. Despite all Hotaru, Arikami, and Falcon did to break it of him, he's still a smoker. "So..why are you scared of me? The power within me?" he asks simply. The woman blinks, her eyes flitting back to Jack, a frown appearing on her face. "You're a phoenix...you have the ability to completely erase me from existance with a snap of your finger. Not that you would...but I can sense your aura. Liches have instincts, too...and mine tell me that I should be running far, far away right now, instead of sitting here and talking to you." She shrugs a bit, glancing off to the horizon. "...I'm sorry for all the shit that happened, Jack." "Eh. It happened." Karrde says simply, "..It wouldna had worked out anyway. I had so much crap on me. What happened to everyone. Falcon, Arikami, Aerial, Samantha, Hotaru-mama." he says as he shakes his head, "...By the point you came along I was ready to give everything up and vanish into the ether. Be it park myself in some dimension alone for eternity or travel them and just see if I could find one where things didn't go wrong." he explains as he takes a drag on his cig. Exhaling the stream of smoke, "..But yeah, I came back. Probably to bounce around here and just mope. But well.." he sighs, "I'm here. And my path is my own. Those who follow destiny find happiness. Those who follow their own path find strife and glory." and like that for a moment his eyes capture some of that fire, the eternal flames of the Phoenix, "...I choose glory." A wince mars the dracoliche's face as Jack mentions Samantha. "Sam..." She frowns a bit, looking down at the ground. That's one name that somehow dredges emotions that shouldn't be felt now, or should at least be dulled by death...but they're just as intense as ever. Faded over the years, yes, but still a wound she wishes she didn't have. So, she quickly changes the subject in favor of one that will keep her mind away from that dusty corner. "Yeah...I gave life one more shot...with Lone Wolf. But, it didn't work out...so I came back to undeath." She shrugs, trying to keep her mind off of that girl whom was once such an important part of her life. "S'pose you could say I'm seeing someone..." She offers a halfhearted smile. "He's a nice kid..." Sun sighs, glancing off to the side. "My unlife is quite dull and boring, I'm afraid..." At the moment the word 'glory' leaves Jack Karrde's lips, a jubilant whoop echoes from down near the ground. While the pair of old friends have conversed, Niamh has been busy - bodily hefting the slaughtered creature the rest of the way to the ground, then delving more deeply inside the Rogue Ember to make an assessment of the all-important engine room. After all, with all the will in the world, no airship's going to move without an engine driving those powerful rotors. Now she emerges from the front base of the ship in an explosion of sand, coughing and laughing in equal measure as she picks herself up off the ground and looks up first toward Sun, then the roof of the Ember some seventy feet above. "Mr. Karrde!" She calls up, every bit the commanding officer and ignoring the fact she might be cutting off the man's subsequent response to Sun. It's her party and she'll shout if she wants to; she's already been more polite than she was ever trained to be. With attention attracted, she moves in a flash of-- well, nothing. She simply moves, disappearing from her location to pop into substance a skip and a jump from the phoenix, hands loosely clasped behind her and wearing a wide smirk. "All systems are go, couple of rotors need to be attached back around the back, and we need to get that tear patched up. I can manage the labour but these panels won't shift without a bit of heat to loosen 'em up," she quirks an eyebrow with that, looking Jack up and down. He didn't say he /couldn't/ summon up something like that, and his little trick earlier suggests he must have more up his sleeve. Leaving the unspoken question hanging, Niamh takes a moment to glance aside to Sun, crooked grin tugging on thin lips. "By the by, I wouldn't say Jacky smells all that bad. Lady like you could give the chap a terrible complex..." Okay...consider Jack impressed as Niamh makes her appearance he blinks and looks at Sun, "...SHe remind you of anyone?" he asks simply as he hmms, "Be right back." he says as he tosses his cig away and goes to take a look himself. Okay, this could be tricky. And he begins to gather his power. And with a thought the winds around him vanish as his aura pushes it back. Yep, he's gathering his might. Cracking his knuckles he hmms and lashes out with his power. However he does something odd, he channels power to not blast..but heal. Imagine a healing blast..but for inantimate objects. In D&D terms this would be Repair Major Damage. And his eyes 'gold' out as he works. The dracoliche blinks as Niamh makes her grand reenterance, peering over at the girl with her head tilted to the side. "He doesn't smell bad. Just dangerous." She shrugs a bit, then glances at Jack as he asks if the fae reminds her of anyone, a frown forming on her face. "Slightly." Despite the fact that he's not looking at her or aiming his powers at her, Jack's display of power nevertheless causes Sun to take cover behind the rock she was sitting on, a displeased look upon her face. She's pretty sure he's not going to kill her...but that doesn't mean it's not extremely terrifying when he fires them up. The sìdhe is not particularly attuned to powers mystical and magical; she is not able to discern their specific type and origin, with a few exceptions, but the raw force behind Jack's effort still raises the hairs on the back of her neck. Nodding slowly as she watches the display, she lifts a finger to her mouth, idly flicking the bottom lip out before curling off another broad grin. "Nice work, Karrde," she murmurs, slipping gracefully forward to skirt the blast as metal warps and screams, forced back together into whatever conceived template it believes it fits... The process is easier than might be expected, too, as though the Rogue Ember really does know her own proper shape. Within moments of the process starting, it is complete, iron alloy giving off sibilant pops as it cools, welded together through sheer will. The fey comes to a halt, hands on hips, impressed stare snapping immediately to the phoenix. "Either you know as much about my ship as I do, or you're a damn powerful man," she laughs suddenly, spinning on her heel to stride to the cliffside edge of the airship, "Possibly both!" "You kids go back to talking for a while. I'm not sure we can do much more about this," she glances back over her shoulder, shrugging nonchalantly before she drops into a crouch, preparing to slide over the edge between a rock and a hard place. "I don't fancy trying to shift this little lady out of her hole with brute strength, but I reckon she might be able to take off." Which is surely impossible, but again; she seems rather sure of herself. Slipping from view, Niamh is soon making a series of staccato bangs and thumps as she clambers about to inspect the crushed rotors on the other side. And Jack slumps. "Wanna bet I gotta get it outta the hole." he says to Sun as he forms his glaive and leans on it. Yep, he's still got that old weapon. And he sighs as he looks at Sun, "Sun..calm down. If Was gonna hurt you I'd have done it. So relax." he says with a sigh. A small grumble comes to the Dracoliche. "Can't help it." She comes out from hiding, sitting on the rock again. "...I should go. Let you two get your ship taken care of..." She doesn't have much better to do, but right now she feels as though she's...imposing? She frowns a bit, leaning back, her face thoughtful. There's also the fact that she still feels really badly about how things ended with Jack. Her wings shift, and she looks upon Jack thoughtful, her lips moving in some silent dialogue she seems to be having with herself. Karrde nods to Sun. She's not really imposing, but he knows how she feels. She's afraid of him. The power in him, creation and destruction. Heal or burn with a touch. And he sighs a bit as he nods, "..Sun, I'll be around so look me up. We can still talk, right?" he asks as he looks at her. He can understand the interal war being waged, but, it's not his place to intervene. She has to figure this out for herself. All he can do is, just be here. Gradually the banging and thumping diminishes, and a keen ear might hear the rather less noisy shifting of sand as Niamh reaches the bottom of the ship and starts to make her way back up to the nose, wherein a basin in the sand near the front of the airship leads directly onto the bridge - the window usually shielding it from the elements blown wide open. Before she ducks inside, she makes a swift trip back to the roof, once more simply appearing, this time crouched and rather less manic than she has been; the smile on her lips small, if still confident. "Ready when you are. Let's get this show on the road. Front and centre; can't miss it." Her gaze slips to Sun briefly before she disappears once more, the slight inclination of a nod suggesting some moderation of respect. Her eyes informing the dracoliche that she has heard the conversation. But she's gone without further expression or communication, on the bridge of her ship a few moments later. The preparations begin as she waits for Jack to join her. The dracoliche watches Jack for a long moment, rubbing her arm with one hand. "Yeah...yeah, we can still talk." She smiles a bit. "I'll track you down again soon." With a nod, she glances over to Niamh, tilting her head to the side. She then smiles brightly at Jack. "Have fun with your ship, Jack. Hurry up and get it flying so I can see what it looks like when it isn't broken." And with a final wave over her shoulder, Sun promptly takes to the air, making her retreat. She hates running away so soon, but she didn't get a chance to collect herself before talking to him. Karrde sighs as Sun takes flight and he shrugs, "Well..what can ya do Phoenix." he says as he flickers out and appears on the deck of the ship, "Shall we go boss." he says with a smirk. Yeah, this is going to be interesting. Inside, Niamh proudly stalks back and forth, poking at dials, flipping levers and kicking rattling apparati that appear to be little more than wild collections of cogs and pipes. The whole bridge area is like that; a steampunk nightmare, or dream, depending upon one's mechanical inclinations, built upon a lattice grid of rattling iron. Still, it seems to function someway, somehow. And Sun doesn't have long to wait. Within moments loud hisses and whirrs erupt from all over the hulk of the Ember, and within minutes the fey's pride and joy lurches into life, buckled rotor blades ripping chunks out of the cliff as they spin rapidly. She scrapes her way out of her crashlanding, snub nose dipping low before enough power can be maintained to launch her into the air with a jolt, trailing sand and damaged components. The flight back to Twisted could be interesting, to say the least - with half her rudimentary guidance systems in at best partial working order, the Ember flags from port to starboard, making the already chaotic journey just a little more sketchy... But they'll get there. Fortune, after all, favours the bold.
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