cinan even 📡 open post

[incursions]

📡 hit me up with a texting thread
📡 drop me a starter or image prompt for an action thread

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[causalities]

[He is from a small place. A few hundred people, outnumbered by sheep and cows and clods of earth. War sent him everywhere else, it seems. Great cities, sprawling urban centers. It sent him to trenches at the edge of the world. He does not think of it as hell, for he met better friends there than he did in the twenty-three years before the war, but now-- ah.

Now there is Quarantine. The people here talk of destruction, the sort with which he is intimately familiar - albeit on a larger scale - and it is not enough to be a farmer here.

He has skills, to protect. The idea of standing idle against enemy incursion sits ill with him. Yet every time he thinks of wielding a gun, taking a life - even an animal, even a monster - he has to pull himself back from a ledge that war cleaved into him.

He opts for a network post - not anonymous (he isn't one for hiding) but quiet. He speaks plain.]

For those of your accustomed to conflict in your homes - can you reconcile a desire for peace here with the need to defend Quarantine? Thank you.

[franciscoramon]

[ It might not be the most efficient way to gather information, but Cisco had posted an open invitation on the network - anyone with interesting abilities or skills (of the metahuman of just human varieties) who didn't mind talking about them a little could drop him and note, and he would follow up in a few days and get some details, to help in his research.

One of the first names on his list is Cinan. Cisco waits until he's got some experiments in the lab that need monitoring - a boring job, but one that requires he just be present for an hour or two. Once he's got it set up he kicks back with a laptop and sends off a quick message: ]

this is cinan, right? now a good time to talk?

just gonna assume some previous CR here doot-de-doo

[aeturnus]

New phone, who this?

No, I'm kidding. Actually, I wanted to ask if you'd be willing to help me with a gadget I'm working on. You do electricity, right?

[ Of course he does. Cain wouldn't get that part wrong once he hears about it. ]

onboard the ephemera;

[greyjane]

[The Ephemera is a small, sleek ship. Designed more for speed and elegance than anything more strenuous than that. The Bellgrands built most of the Greyjane fleet ships, but the rest followed blueprints. This gal is one-of-a-kind.

The wireglass panels are pulsing with a low light, and Shai's sitting cross-legged in her commander's chair. There's a low table between she and Cinan, and she's got her palm in her chin, hunched over as she considers the game board between them.

(It's like a bastard lovechild of checkers and go, but that's neither here nor there. The wireglass marbles sit in their small depressions, colour-coded depending on which of their neighbours they're touching. She thinks she might be losing, though the game's too close to tell with any accuracy yet.)]

You're better at this than anyone from Djamon has a right to be.

[It's lightly said, any grumbling she does is playful at worst. But it's a Jane thing, this game, and she's perhaps a bit possessive.]]