CH5: Familiar Faces (In Progress)

Annabeth cleared the ramp in a few casual strides, taking the chance to stretch for the first time since she'd boarded the ship. She half-juggled her glaive between two hands as she did so. "Oh, dear mercy, I haven't actually ridden passenger in a flight since..." she paused for a moment, recalling the time when she was passenger in the Venture II, and Ima was the only one of the two who could fly it. She chose not to mention specifics. "...It's been a while, is all." Rather than  walk off the ramp, she made a short hop in place of that last stride, her boots landing firmly in the sand. Though they would normally extend unhindered past her knees, they were now covered almost entirely by a set of fresh denim trousers that she'd just happened to find lying around in their passenger cabin. They just so happened to fit well enough, and nobody seemed to have noticed or requested their return, so she doubted a single pair of pants would be missed.

She still wasn't wearing her crosscoat, since the environment didn't really suit it very well, and so she was instead covered by the tank-top shirt that she'd normally wear under the more cumbersome top layer. Now that she could compare her current, cut-down outfit to the feeling of the whole thing, she made an immediate decision to avoid going overboard in the hotter worlds such as this one. Perhaps that was why she did so poorly before? The heat must have gotten to her while she was trying to fight. Just further proof that the odds had been stacked against her! When round two ever came around, things would be a bit more fair.

"Let's see, then... Market should be somewhere 'round that way, right..?" She stated her conclusion aloud and followed her own directions immediately, giving little time for her recent friend to catch up. There was a gate in the market to the outside of the wall, where the Venture had been docked behind one or two potted plants. Sure, it wouldn't do much in the face of a real thief or looter, but it would probably stave off generic RPG protagonists while she was away. That was all she needed, really.

Isis and the captain had been making arrangements for the compensation for the services they rendered. She seemed to be the type who would be a supplier in the black market, and so Isis gave her somebody that would gladly buy her goods from her at a higher price. The buyer wasn't too trusting, but had a history with Isis and Lily. Isis made a sprite to follow the captain in case the buyer needed proof. There was no such thing as being too careful with someone like him.

The captain was appreciative, so much so that she didn't cut off Annabeth's hand off for taking a pair of her jeans, and perhaps maybe some of her undergarments too. She could have just asked for them. But with a sigh, she simply shrugged it off and carried on. Isis helped to unload the cargo before she and Annabeth made their way through the city to find her ship.

"You have always been the pilot in your ship?" she asked, though the answer would probably be obvious. She has been saying that it was her ship. Despite her nearly all-black attire, Isis didn't seem all that bothered by the heat. Part of the reason was that her attire was made from special materials that adapted to the environment. She was actually feeling cool inside all that wrapping, with only the uncovered part of her face and her hands being able to feel the sting of the sun.

Isis followed Annabeth to the market until they came upon the ship they were looking for. "Is this your ship?" she asked, taking full notice of its grandeur.

"If you wanna get technical, I'm borrowing it from a pretty good friend of mine." They passed through multiple gates, and there wasn't so much as a single eye bat in their direction. Everyone important was busy moving construction materials. Clearly, the Heartless had caused quite some trouble after she'd left, though the actual damage didn't span farther than the actual market, and none of the actual buildings had been toppled. There were just a few cracks here and there, and a couple stands were brought down.

Annabeth watched the turban'd workers speeding planks and cloth from one place to the next as she continued. "We were gonna take the ship together, but things didn't work out quite as planned. I don't really know a good way to get back to him yet, and I doubt he'll be very happy if I come back without our ship."

Another gate, and they were outside the city. A small 'yard' sort of area was surrounded by a semicircle of simple plants, most of which were set up in large baskets of dirt. Oh-so-well-hidden behind a couple baskets to the right was the white-plated shuttle Annabeth depended on. Isis was the first to speak up, asking if it was hers, and Annabeth nodded as she closed the distance, hopping the baskets to do so. "That's my girl! Now to crack her open, crank up the air conditioning and get a shower or something..." From her pocket, she drew her access card, a slim plastic thing with a series of discordant black shapes on one side.

The ramp was still down from when she'd first parked it there, and she strode up to the sealed door. She took a moment to lament over how the blowing dust had scratched at the finish and tarnished the white to a pale brown. Still, the paint job was among the least of her worries, and she brushed the gathered sand off the glass lens which made up the scanner, planted in the wall beside the door. A moment of holding the card up to the device, and the door split in the middle.

Annabeth raised a brow, confused. The doors had unlocked, and there was now a gap between them, but they weren't sliding apart like they always did. They just sat there, unmoving. "Did a battery short out or something? I don't even know if anybody sells those things 'round here!" With a groan of frustration, she pushed against one of the doors, using her legs as leverage to shove it away. It moved a bit, but with the other staying in place, there was too much resistance to open it completely. Already, she could feel the blessed coolness of the conditioned air within, teasing her. "Hey, can you come help with this? Cast one'o those magic munchkins of yours, or something?"

By the looks of things, this ship had been sitting in the open for far too long. Its got sand everywhere. Walking up to it, she was simply looking on from half-way up the ramp as Annabeth unlocked the doors. She took the time to look around some more and saw the damage done to the surrounding buildings. What had happened here, she wondered. She didn't want to jump to conclusions, but she wanted to know.

Annabeth seemed to be having trouble with the door and asked for assistance. As requested, Isis created multiple sprites who all helped out in prying the doors open. "The sand must have gotten into the mechanisms," she theorized. She could probably get some water in there and wash it out, but she didn't know if it would damage the ship's doors in the process.

But it didn't take long until the doors were opened with the help of her sprites, who stayed bracing the doors in case they suddenly sprang back closed. The cold air from inside was refreshing, but probably not good for the health if she stayed between hot and cold for too long. "May I come in?" she asked. If she was invited in, then she would waste no time in entering, however she would remain near the door.

Annabeth made a dramatic welcoming motion at the question of entry, making it clear that Isis was allowed inside. She watched as she passed, but her eyes flew a bit more open when she saw inside the ship. She reached out a hand to grab her friend, calling, "Watch out!" Before she could get close, an object flew past Isis, striking Annabeth clear in the forehead. She fell back, holding it in her hands as the projectile landed in the sand next to her. It was a telescoping baton, from the looks of it.

Inside the ship's entry corridor was the offender who'd thrown it. A young man of lean build, wearing baggy cargo trousers with a gray digital camouflage pattern, and an open jacket of the same print, hanging loosely over the upper half of some sort of jumpsuit. Only the jumpsuit seemed to fit well, and everything else hung off of him in a manner that couldn't have been comfortable or effective. His trousers were held to his waist thanks to a belt that seemed to be nothing more complex than knotted rope. His face had no scars to mention, but his brown eyes were narrowed in desperate focus. His black hair, visibly unwashed and ragged, ventured into his face slightly, but he made no move to fix it. Both hands were occupied keeping a handgun steady, which he held forward, aiming in the direction of the one standing in the doorway. He couldn't have been any older than Annabeth, and wasn't much taller either. "Don't move!" he commanded in a dry voice.

She was welcomed warmly, and Isis entered without delay. She had looked around, but when he noticed the young man he had already thrown something at Annabeth. Isis didn't dare to make a move. He was pointing a gun at her, unfitting the desert theme. She glanced back Annabeth and was relieved to see that she wasn't hurt too badly. The sprites slowly gravitated back towards Isis, ready to react to the young man's actions.

"You don't want to do that," Isis said in a calm and commanding voice. Who was this person? He didn't seem to be someone who was from here. A raider perhaps? She kept her eyes on him, but with the solid mask over her face, he wouldn't be able to tell what she was looking at. She was looking for an opening to subdue the boy while not risking Annabeth's life in the process.

She stayed calm and asked, "Who are you?"

He jerked the gun at her as a threat. "I'll do what I need to!" he retorted simply. "And who I am is none of your business. Now get off my ship!" Annabeth had recovered, and stormed up behind Isis while still rubbing her forehead with a palm. In her opposite hand, she held her glaive, crooked under her arm in a ready position that, considering the narrow space of the corridor, likely wouldn't work for swinging. "Your ship?" she noted in offended disbelief. "I'm the one with the keys! Y'all broke the door on your way... In?" She stopped rubbing her face and got a good look at the person who'd occupied her shuttle. "Ima?" His eyes met hers, and his visage softened into confusion."Jane?"

"Who?" Annabeth only grew more confused as he seemed to call her by a name she was sure she'd never heard before. It was welcome enough, however, as he lowered the gun that she had only then noticed he'd been pointing at them. He leaned back a bit, turning his head to look down a perpendicular hall as if to check something before turning back to address the group in the entrance. "I don't get it... How are you... Wait, who's Ima?" He finally registered the name Annabeth had given him, and corrected her, putting a hand to his chest and saying, "I'm Ben. Ben. Who are you, and why do you look like Jane?" As much as he was clearly suspicious of them, the mutual recognition seemed to strike a peaceful note between the two, and he didn't bring the gun back up just yet.

Did these two know each other? The sprites' glow lessened in intensity when the situation calmed a little. She thought these two kids knew each other, since they were giving out names and such, but the name the boy called Annabeth didn't match what she knew, and apparently what she called him wasn't his name either.

They were still at risk here, and there isn't much she could do. She could send her sprites to distract him, but Annabeth could be accidentally shot. Isis was less concerned of her own safety, she knew she'd be fine. But if this could be resolved without anyone being hurt, then she was all for it. But the moment he raises that gun again, Isis was going to jump in front of Annabeth and send the sprites to knock that gun out of his hands.

Nobody had an answer, and he didn't ask again. He soon shook his head, raising the weapon again. "Look, whoever you are, I'm sorry, but I need this ship, alright? So just turn around and-" The sprites came for him, and his weak grip was broken easily. The gun fell, and he was left trying to process the sudden event while Annabeth charged forward, Glaive now in both hands, and swung the pommel end at an upward diagonal. It made contact with his cheek, and his head was sent flying into the nearby wall. They collided loudly, and even left a dent in the aluminum, and from there he collapsed. He nearly fell to the floor entirely, but instead landed hard on his forearms, keeping a hunched-over kneel at the most. "And that's why you don't go 'round stealing people's stuff!" Annabeth scolded him. Sure, it had been the closest thing to Ima she'd seen in quite a long time now, but she was beyond glad that she'd finally been able to hit something after all the recent frustration.

"Ben!" An uncannily familiar voice called out from the end of the main hall, near the back of the ship, and Annabeth turned her head to find the source. For a moment, she was confused, as it appeared as if she were looking into a mirror. There, at the far end of the corridor, stood a figure nearly identical to her, save for several distinct differences. Rather than the adventurey getup Annabeth had taken to, this stranger wore a simple, faint blue gown which extended down to her ankles, and her feet were bare. On top of that, she was impossibly thin, and her skin was pale. The more she looked, the more it was like seeing her own ghost. The stranger leaned heavily against one of the walls, taking in the scene with wide eyes that were just expressed just as much fear as they did purpose, as if she were analyzing the two intruders even now. Was this why 'Ben' had threatened them so quickly? Was he defending this person?

It had to be done. She had to protect the younger and so jumped into action, sending the sprites after the gunman and jumping in front of Annabeth in case he got a shot off in the process, but luckily that didn't happen. Annabeth soon took care of Ben with a swift hit to the side of his face. Isis was glad it was over, but was this man alone? As the sprites took the gun and harried it over to Isis, she focused and attempted to find any more signs of life. There was another one close by.

Isis turn to the direction where another figure would soon appear. And appear they did. She looked exactly like Annabeth. "You must be Jane?" the seer asked with a soft-spoken voice. Isis was holding the gun visibly, but she was holding it from the barrel. She didn't intend to use it, but she didn't want it simply lying around for either of these strangers to pick up and shoot them with.

The sprites spread out, half of them looking at one of the two intruders. "We have no intent on hurting you unless you give us a reason to." Isis was speaking in the same tone, but firmer.

With the offer heard, her eyes softened, losing what little hardness was there. "T-That's my fr... friend..." she stated in a weak voice, raising a shaking hand to point at Ben, still on the ground. He turned his head to her and mouthed a few silent words at her, and she shook her head in response, refusing whatever he proposed. Annabeth put a stop to their silent discussion by planting the pommel of her glaive against his neck and pushing him further against the floor. He fumed there quietly, grinding a fist into the plating and making his dissatisfaction clear. "Friend or not," she began, "he's a ship thief. I'm gonna need you two to get off my..." She trailed off as she made eye contact with the stranger again.

Annabeth hesitated. As much as she wanted to be hard on these two, what with how they'd nearly made off with her only way between Worlds, there was something surreal about looking at something that was and wasn't herself that made it difficult to make any real decisions. On top of that, even she had a sense of pity. She tilted her head toward Isis. "Puppy-dog eyes at twelve o'clock- What do we do?" Of course, there was no actual dog there, as she was merely referring to the girl they'd assumed was Jane.

There was still an air of tension there, even though things looked like they were stable. Most of Isis' sprites disappeared back into her, leaving only an eighth of the original number. She looked over to Ben and then to Jane. Without his weapon, Ben wouldn't be too much trouble if they kept him at a distance, and Jane didn't look to be the type to fight. For whatever reason, the call fell on to her shoulders. What were they supposed to do with these two?

She wanted to give them the benefit of the doubt, however her eyes were always on them. "We talk," she said simply. "In this world, the punishment for theft is the severance of hands. But if the two of you are willing to cooperate, perhaps we can work something out. I am not a fan of such punishments, so I hope you will choose to talk with us."

"Talking it is," Annabeth confirmed, politely removed her weapon from Ben's neck. She took a step back and didn't bother him further when he slowly brought himself upward from the metal floor tile. He made a show of dusting himself off and moving to the side of Jane, who was gripping a wrist and very swiftly bowing on repeat- Something that struck Annabeth as particularly odd, considering she didn't have such a habit herself.

Once the formalities were over, the group was moved to the bridge, where they could appropriate the swiveling chairs that, under normal circumstances, would be used by a six-man crew to pilot the ship. The color palette remained a consistent series of gray and white, broken up by the red glow of guiding lights which supplemented the fluorescent white strips in the ceiling. The controls to the ship were a mess of screens, levers and colorfully decorated button panels, with the occasional dial or knob in between.

Jane seemed to have been a bit winded by the short walk, and her eyes were half-closed as she sat, still holding one of her wrists, in one of the available seats. Ben was in the closest, and both happened to be primary pilot positions. Without his gun to point at anyone, he crossed both his arms and legs rather firmly, glaring quietly at almost everyone in the room, though he couldn't maintain eye contact with the sprites for very long.

Annabeth, on the other hand, had one elbow planted against a knee as the same-side hand held her cheek. The pommel of her glaive was fixed into an empty screw hole in the floor, and the hand holding the pole tilted it to and fro without much purpose. "I'm still trying to get over the looking-at-a-pale-me thing. Like, I can't really tell if you're a ghost, or a mime, or maybe a time traveler." She blinked at her doppelganger, processing the hypotheses she'd laid out so far. "My bet's on time traveler," she confirmed.

Ben wasn't really thrilled with the direction the discussion had gone so far, and tried to redirect it. "Her circumstance isn't something you need to worry about," he warned, but Jane cooled him down with a hand on his shoulder. She spoke over his authority, saying softly, "We would be happy to explain anything relevant." Though the statement didn't please Ben any more than Annabeth's had, he didn't speak up against it.

Isis quietly joined the others in the designated room, keeping an eye on both of their guests. Ben could scowl as much as he wanted at her, but Isis' peaceful demeanor hadn't changed. She held a soft and inviting smile, her hands clasped at her lap as she sat down. All the sprites were dismissed, leaving only the four of them.

The seer just listened to the exchanges happening. Ben remained slightly hostile with his words, and his companion was more cooperative, fortunately. "I think we should start with a formal introduction." She placed a hand to her chest as she spoke. "I am Isis Evita. A traveler of the worlds."