aleifr: (Default)
[personal profile] aleifr

Aleifr's fingers flexed a little as the shuttle began to rumble with the thrum of it's engines, digging into his harness as he felt the thing lift off the ground. He still wasn't used to this. Even after months of serving the Rout and seeing the wonders that they had at their disposal, riding in the belly of one of their flying ships still made him vaguely uneasy - at least until they'd hit the point where they were flying smoothly.

Once they were, he unbuckled the harness strapping him into his seat and made his way to the viewport at the back of the ship. Thick, white clouds filled up most of the view, but he could see little scraps of Fenris through the gaps. Mountains, ice, braces of pine trees and the endless expanse of Asaheim. As they climbed, the details grew harder to make out and his perpetual scowl deepened.

He was grateful to Jarl Ironwolf for the honor he'd given him - him and Aila both. He'd be a fucking idiot not to considering he's to be serving one of the Allfather's agents directly ... but it was strange to think that he might not see this place again. Their world. Their home. He didn't like that thought.

But his jarl had given him a task, and he'd see it through.

Date: 2019-01-27 07:25 am (UTC)
letitallout: (018)
From: [personal profile] letitallout
"Not even a little," Aila agrees, sounding somewhat breathless as she runs a hand over her hair in a rare nervous gesture despite the fact none of it has escaped its braids. Aleifr's not the one whose thoughts Frost answered directly. "Let's--let's get somewhere that doesn't make my shoulder blades itch," she adds, looking around the corridor.

Date: 2019-01-27 08:19 am (UTC)
letitallout: (057)
From: [personal profile] letitallout
"Oh, damn." Aleifr has a good point. Any traps set in on the path to the Inquisitor's quarters would be lethal, at least if Aila were the one laying the ambush. "Best not risk it."

Of course, that leaves them trapped until they figure out what to do about it. Yes, Frost said they could come to her, but Aila has absolutely no intention of bothering the Inquisitor over a door. They can stay in the corridor until McCoy notices they're missing.

<Just get in the blasted lift>, Frost's voice echoes in Aila's head.

Date: 2019-01-27 08:40 am (UTC)
letitallout: (054)
From: [personal profile] letitallout
Aila doesn't yelp, but it's a near thing, and when the elevator door opens, she's so close on Aleifr's heels her breath condenses on the blade of his axe.

She has no idea which deck to select once they're inside, but she's willing to deal with an awkward conversation wherever they end up, on the assumption that it's better to annoy absolutely anyone else on the ship than it is Frost. Aila's reaching for the bank of buttons to poke them at random when one lights up of its own accord and the lift begins to descend. She's not sure the Inquisitor did that, but she's not sure the Inquisitor didn't do that, and she stares up at Aleifr with wide, shocked eyes.

Date: 2019-01-28 03:52 am (UTC)
letitallout: (040)
From: [personal profile] letitallout
Waiting though he may be, McCoy does not seem to have expected his charges to be quite so jumpy, and he takes an involuntary step back at Aleifr's reaction, looking back and forth between them.

"Emperor on Earth, what did she do?" he asks, pursing his lips.

Once it registers that McCoy's exasperation comes from his disapproval of whatever he's imagining, Aila leans in and hisses at him. "Be respectful."

Is he trying to get killed?

Date: 2019-01-28 05:27 am (UTC)
letitallout: (013)
From: [personal profile] letitallout
Aila takes a deep breath and tries to relax. Nobody's dead, from accident, intruder control, or Inquisitorial wrath. Everything is fine.

"Of course the armory comes first," McCoy says dryly, recovering from his alarm once it's clear Aleifr isn't going to overreact and kill him. "But I'm afraid I have to alter the itinerary--we need to get you into the systems first."

"Biometrics," she says, the unfamiliar word even more awkward on her lips than the rest of Gothic.

"Biometrics," McCoy says with a nod. He gestures down the hallway and heads in that direction. "From 'biological,' of or relating to living organisms, and 'metric,' a system or standard of measurements."

Date: 2019-01-30 04:26 am (UTC)
letitallout: (014)
From: [personal profile] letitallout
Aila glances at him with a twist of her lips that can't honestly be described as a smile. She's regaining her equilibrium but still walking a little too close, taking comfort from Aleifr's sheer physical presence even though her unease has an intangible source.

McCoy's on about retinas, whatever those are. Apparently they can be measured.

Date: 2019-01-30 05:32 am (UTC)
letitallout: (046)
From: [personal profile] letitallout
Neither of them are bleeding. They'll be fine. Aila takes a deep breath and returns Aleifr's smile properly, if not with her usual wattage. She knows how rare his are.

"Hopefully they've sent over your medical records by now," McCoy says. "I assume you've had your immunizations?"

Aila's about to say no, but her brain catches up with her tongue and she remembers the whirlwind of testing around their recruitment. One of the medicae had said something about that...right before pressing a device up against her arm, injecting something, and almost getting punched for his trouble. "Are those the things that make your arms sore for days?"

"Not the intent of vaccinations, but I'll take that as a yes." McCoy turns a corner into a part of the ship that is identical to the rest of the ship as far as Aila can tell. They're going to have to navigate by runes rather than something sensible like landmarks.

Date: 2019-01-30 06:03 am (UTC)
letitallout: (075)
From: [personal profile] letitallout
She nods at Aleifr. Idioms are the hardest part, but that sounds right.

"You're both obnoxiously healthy, I'm sure." McCoy stops at a door bearing the same crest as his robes and leads them into an infirmary. It's smaller than the one they'd used at the Aett, but has the same antiseptic smell to it. "Welcome to my domain. I'm suspect you'll become quite familiar with my services."

"If a warrior goes unscathed, they're not fighting hard enough battles," Aila agrees.

McCoy doesn't concur, if his raised eyebrow is anything to go by. "Yes, well, do try to keep the scathing to a minimum."
Edited Date: 2019-01-30 06:04 am (UTC)

Date: 2019-01-30 07:09 am (UTC)
letitallout: (002)
From: [personal profile] letitallout
"Step over here." McCoy beckons them to follow him to padded table with all manner of equipment suspended over it...and what Aila recognizes as restraints attached.

"Hop on up." He pats the tabletop. "It's technically for diagnostics, but it can do the necessary scanning."

To prove to Aleifr and maybe to herself that she's calmed down, Aila steps forward before he can volunteer. She has to unfasten her weapons harness to do it, handing the lot to Aleifr with a half-smile. See? She's fine. She slides onto the table, gazing up at the incomprehensible equipment of McCoy's profession. "It hurts enough for restraints?"

"Ah. That." McCoy shakes his head. "It's painless. Those are there because not all my patients are in their right minds...or are and yet not inclined to cooperate."

Oh, of course they take prisoners sometimes. It makes sense, and Aila nods, hearing her hair move against the padded headrest.

"This won't take long." McCoy touches one of the runes on the machinery--and his screen immediately flashes red, a loud, piecing beeping filling the room. Startled, Aila sits halfway up on her elbows as a servitor comes striding over, presumably in response to the alarm.

"Ah, stop it." McCoy sounds faintly embarrassed, and taps a few more runes. The beeping cuts off and he waves the servitor away. "Sorry about that. Your resting heart rate is so low the machine spirits thought you were in medical distress. They're a understandably jumpy, given their jobs."

McCoy does something else at his control panel, and more of the equipment attached to the bed comes to life. "Look straight up and keep your eyes open," he says, as Aila gets blinded by a red light for the second time today. "Retinas, EEG...flip your hands palms up, please...good. Say your name."

Aila can't imagine what that's for, but complies. "Aila Steady-Hand."

"Good clean voiceprint," McCoy says. "All right, you're all set."

The padding makes the table as comfortable as a bed, but Aila's happy to vacate and give Aleifr his turn.

Date: 2019-01-30 08:19 am (UTC)
letitallout: (019)
From: [personal profile] letitallout
Beats stationing a guard at every door, that's for sure. Aila misses the glance from Aleifr because she's busy looking down at the wrinkles on her palms. If the machine spirits can memorize that, good for them.

McCoy claps his hands, rubbing them together. "Now, I believe you were promised a tour."

"The Inquisitor said there was an armory." Aila sounds like a child inquiring about the possibility of sweets.

"You know, most people ask about the mess," McCoy says dryly.
Edited Date: 2019-01-30 08:20 am (UTC)

Date: 2019-01-31 04:09 am (UTC)
letitallout: (049)
From: [personal profile] letitallout
"Of course," McCoy says with an amused undercurrent that suggests he suspects Aila isn't alone in her enthusiasm.

He leads them back into the corridor. "The Arbiter's a small ship, around a kilometer. Main hallways run fore to aft, with connecting hallways abeam," he says, gesturing to illustrate as he speaks. "It's more or less a grid, and you can navigate by the intersections." He reaches up to tap a large set of runes inset on the wall above his head. "The armory and barracks are off the main elevator bank, which is where we just came from."

McCoy's retracing their steps as he talks, leading them past a woman headed the other way in a naval uniform marked with the Inquisition's I and skull. She glances up from her dataslate, sees a pair of Fenrisians, and does a double-take, which McCoy ignores, so Aila follows suit.

"What other fighters are aboard?" she asks, since McCoy mentioned the barracks.

"Besides Logan and now you two, we have a detachment of Storm Troopers," he says. "Good soldiers but not scintillating conversationalists."

Date: 2019-01-31 05:56 am (UTC)
letitallout: (005)
From: [personal profile] letitallout
"Very," McCoy says with a nod. "The Inquisitor will use them rather than the Adeptus Sororitas when she has a choice in the matter."

"Are they much better?" Aila has recovered enough to realize that his talkativeness is an asset at the moment, and since Aleifr's memorizing the route, she feels safe focusing on McCoy.

"That's...a matter of perspective," he replies as they reach the elevators. "They're certainly less likely to offer their opinions unsolicited."

Date: 2019-01-31 07:04 am (UTC)
letitallout: (017)
From: [personal profile] letitallout
Aila nods in agreement and McCoy glances over his shoulder at them as he enters the lift. "I'm sure the Inquisitor will appreciate that opinion."

He beckons for the two of them to look at the buttons on the panel inside the elevator, and Aila peeks around his shoulder. "These are the crew decks. You'll spend most of your time here, unless you find cargo holds absolutely fascinating. Restricted decks are the usual--bridge, navigation, officer country, Inquisitor's quarters, detention block." He presses one of the crew deck buttons and the lift starts to move. "Technically the Mechanicus sections aren't fully off-limits, but they'll chase you out if you go poking around."

"Anyone can get to the armory?" Aila doesn't like that, and looks at Aleifr with a frown. That seems sloppy.

"If they can cut their way through the guards, the gun servitors, and the blast doors, yes, I suppose they can," McCoy says mildly.

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Aleifr Bjornsson

May 2020

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