1964-10-07 - Astra II: Sea to Sky
Summary: Crystal seeks the whereabouts of her family. Lockjaw helps find them and Triton's watch is ended.
Related: If there are no related logs, put 'None', — please don't leave blank!
Theme Song: None
crystal triton hala 


Always busy, that's Crystal. X-Men, or Avengers, or more recently, various sorts of Inhuman business. And of course there's her personal life as well. So it's odd in the extreme for none of those things to be demanding her attention. That's what clues her in. She's been avoiding Xavier's since things started to get strange with the Kree, the better to keep the mutants out of the conflict. But even Avengers Mansion is quiet. Too quiet.

She looked for Maximus first, only to find he was gone. Then Nexus, with the same result. Attempts to reach Attilan via communicator? Failure. Which is why she's in the backyard with Lockjaw, a hand on the hound's shoulder. "Something's not right, Lockjaw."

Lockjaw, to be fair, hasn't really been himself the past few days. He seems… depressed might be the right word. In his doggy way, he keeps sitting outside and staring at nothing. Nothing of interest as far as the giant hound is concerned, anyways; no ham sandwiches, no giant mud puddles, no overly large tree limbs knocked down in a windstorm. Obviously he likes the mansion a lot less in downtown than he does out in the boonies of Westchester County. Inhuman project though he may be, he's still not fond of pollution. Though this is something else. A low rumbling whine would agree with Crystal. No, he is not a happy hound either.

"I can't reach anyone in Attilan. Which means something is wrong there." Crystal reaches up to rub between his ears, gaze steady. "I need you to go to Attilan. See what's going on there. See if it's still there, and if everyone is safe. Don't get caught. And come right back. If you can bring anyone to safety with you, do it, but don't risk getting back yourself, all right?" She waits, then nods once, stepping back to leave room.

One ear crookedly rotates in Crystal's direction. Lockjaw hears her, of course. His wet snout pokes down and he weakly whines again. His tail twitches side to side once, and he looks up, way up, out the window. It's probable he understands what she asked. He isn't quick to comply, sneezing moistly and jumping himself ten feet back through a wall. At least he phases last minute. The next noisy whuffle follows. Then a third, followed by a crash. Then he's trotting back in with a rather expensive antique wooden table leg in his maw that he dumps at Crystal's feet. Cue another sad whine.

Crystal pauses, brows furrowing when Lockjaw takes his time leaving, more deeply still when he returns with a table leg. "While I appreciate the sentiment, Lockjaw, I think it best we not use the furniture for playthings. What's the matter? Are you not able to get to Attilan?" she asks, reaching for the table leg all the same.

Tail thump. Thump thump thump. He gives Crystal a nudge, not enough to remotely knock her over, but enough to push her lightly towards the table leg. It's not even a clean break but Lockjaw is a very large dog in such a fragile human world. His paws shuffle as he walks around her in a circle, plunking himself in front of the window again. The long sigh out of him is almost despairing. Yes, to all intents and purposes, for her question.

"That…is extremely not good," Crystal murmurs, passing the table leg back to Lockjaw without throwing it. Throwing things around here is a recipe for disaster. "All right, then. We have to assume it's related to the Kree. I can't think of anything else that could completely cut Attilan off from both communication and teleportation. Presumably, that means at least some of the family are trapped there, which is why I can't find them anywhere. Which is fine. It's not the first time we've been alone out here, right, Lockjaw?"

Lockjaw takes the tableleg in maw, tilting his big blocky head to munch on it. He half-heartedly gnaws the end. Not that he much has the temperament right now to chase, it's the thought that counts. Those soulful eyes watch Crystal with only mild distraction, mostly from a bus rolling by outside. Diesel engines are hard to get used to. His ears droop a little when it passes; no need to be on high alert. His tail wiggles again. The leg-club is gnawed at and the trifork on his head glows again.

"Except there's a somewhat more urgent threat from the Kree than there ever was from Maximus," Crystal grimaces, reaching up to push a hand through her hair. "So. Who can we go to, if we want to get a look at things without just putting ourselves in more danger? Someone who can travel. Asgard, perhaps. Though I hesitate to ask them to step into a fight potentially that large."

|ROLL| Hala +rolls 1d20 for: 14

More of those pale, pale bubbles rise off of the hound, his body shimmering in the first stages of the shift. He noses at his table leg, pushing it towards the Inhuman princess. Getting up on all fours, he shakes himself off once for good measure, dusty bits of his fur melting into sand. Oh, that's a question he has an answer for, those saggy jowls pulling up. WHO is happy hound? WHO?

Crystal quirks a brow at Lockjaw, head tilting. "All right," she nods, reaching over to set a hand to his shoulder. "Lead the way, Lockjaw."

|ROLL| Hala +rolls 1d4 for: 2

Triton sat on the bench cot in the spartan cell. Triton had seen more sterling days, but presently his scales were a flat slate grey matching the interior of that drab and unadorned room. His shoulder was etched with lacerations (blaster fire?) that were cauterized. The chipping to scale would heal over time in more optimal condition likely. He was bruised, tired, and sitting with his legs in front of him, back to the wall, meditating. He expected Gorgon to pace and bemoan their condition where he was, but Triton? He was apparently working on observation through remaining still… and trying to thing of something. Anything. Not the least of which was, "Could Nexus vent the airlock and would he be okay if he did?"

Leaving no doubt of his intentions, Lockjaw bludgeons the table-leg with his teeth and leans into the blonde Inhuman princess. Oh, is that a hand? Make it an arm, a hugging arm, preferably. He is a sponge to soak up affection, especially being in his miserable puppy mood. Crystal gains no more than a moment to feel that strange sensation of her skin sloughing off through the narrow vacuum, no wider than a needle's eye.

The profound sensation only spikes when they land… well, Lockjaw is only a few feet up. He lands with an impressively noisy thunk of four paws on impact for a selection of glossy tiles. Those cause him to skid a bit, his blunt claws scrabbling roughly. Not that there's really much space for him to be inside what might be a really modernistic hotel room or office or possibly a cell.

No more running into walls, one hopes.

At least the chamber has some niceties as far as the hospitality crew are concerned. Spotless to the point of beingn pristine, in fact, the furnishings aren't much worn and the pitcher offers all kinds of fresh water or something with a weird, vaguely mint-adjacent herbal flavour. It's a vague stimulant, too. A crescent hangs by the door, which slides effortlessly, probably somewhere for a person to put their coat if they had one.

Crystal is quick to summon a light cushion of air for herself, landing gently on the floor with a quick turn to look around herself once Lockjaw deposits the pair. "You know, I was rather hoping you were thinking of one of the Asgardians," she admits to the hound, keeping a hand on his shoulder as she starts to walk around him, getting a feel for the room. "Where did you take us, Lockjaw?"

Triton snapped his head up, the exterior then interior eyelids opening like a camera shudder. He was suddenly very glad his legs weren't hanging off the edge of the cot. It was Lockjaw! Oh who was the best doggo ever? Yeeeeeees you were, buddy. The fish unfolded his limbs and reached out to give the puppers' shoulder a pat. Vaulting over the dog in a tight space seemed to be the only way to move.

He kept his voice down though, "Crystal? Oh good it's you." Relief. His good hand went to her shoulder, to look her over once. "You're okay? Most of the family is here. So far we're…we're okay. We're on the Kree ship. so far as they would have us believe, they are unaware of the systems going haywire on Terra."

|ROLL| Hala +rolls 1d100 for: 9

Lockjaw snorts and shakes his head, looking totally and utterly unbothered on that front. He spits out his elegant bone, a table leg cleaved off by force, a thing of antique wood carved with a distinctive curve and claw ball on the end. Puppers has taste.

And he does what all the happy puppers do: he barks, his paws pressed to the wall, tongue briefly lolling out. Oh who is a good fishie? Who didn't get himself cannibalized to teleport, it's you, Triton, it's you!

"Triton!" Crystal exclaims, reaching out to catch her cousin in a brief hug before she steps back again, taking in the explanation with raised brows. "We're on a- Lockjaw, you teleported us onto their ship?" she hisses to the dog, clapping a hand to her face. "Randac save us all. I couldn't reach anyone," she explains to Triton. "Attilan is cut off. Lockjaw couldn't even teleport there."

Triton winced faintly, but gave Crystal a hug that lifted toes just off the ground for a moment. "So glad you are alright. Well everyone you're looking for is here."He pressed an ear to the door for a moment and grinned under the mask. It crinkled the edges of his eyes but yes Lockjaw got a hug. Family. family was good. He continued in short efficient order though.

"I was able to negotiate with the commander of this ship. It could have gone…better but she's taking 24 hours to verify the information that we gave her. We teleported from the Ring to one of the sites. There were three technicians and three Kree Accusers. The Kree on this ship expressed no knowledge of Kree being on Terra. If they decide Kree did ot turn systems to attack Terra first we will be charged, no doubt, for invasion of this, their space as an act of war. The AI or the plasma energy or something on site put us here It's… curious."

Lockjaw stops short of moistening anyone's face with his tongue. Other than his favourite person, sorry, the Inhumans taste funny. He shuffles back and probably squishes Crystal in the process. His bark is a bit of a yap, full of vigor at something. A lean to Triton follows…
… and in the wink of an eye, he's gone, leaving the smell of wet dog and some alarmed chatter outside the door to deal with.

«Well, yes, I know there are multiple scans in there. Did someone anger XORRAR-1 again?» mutters one Accuser stuck on sentry duty. In Kree, of course.

"Lockjaw, wait, don't-" And then the dog is gone, and Crystal stares at the spot where he was. "He just- You're telling me that Lockjaw just dropped me off in a cell on a Kree ship," she summarizes as she turns back to Triton, crossing her arms over her chest. "Where the Kree may or may not decide to try us for a crime we didn't even know existed. Wonderful."

Triton took a deep breath, or the nearest equivalent there of causing his tank to swish. Webbed fingers pressed to his forehead, "He should have taken you with him. Whatever we do we don't want to instigate an inva- can Lockjaw get to my sister? You need to get to Karnak with this information. Also, and this might be most important, "You remember that thing we hid? I moved it. Just in case." In case Maximus did in fact lost all of his senses.

The conversation without is hard to hear; the craft has a degree of soundproofing and support systems that even Nexus hasn't figured out how to muddle with. Probably for the better as the Inhumans haven't evolved to breathe the thin, vacuous void of space. Most of them, anyways. Exceptions for every rule exist.

At least it was sweet for Lockjaw to leave them his table-leg, gnawed and drippy.

"I couldn't reach anyone," Crystal shakes her head, letting out a huff of breath. "And until or unless Lockjaw comes back, I'm not going to reach anyone else, either. Hopefully the Kree won't take the arrival of another unplanned…guest as an invasion. That would be awkward."

Triton took a deep breath and looked to Crystal, "Cousin, we will… work this out. They seem to accept reason and if not we'll see what we have to work with. This is … well we've had better days. Sit. There's not a great deal we can do without inciting an escalation that Nexus isn't…. I think he's trying to buy us more time. Maybe a ship." There was a faint side glance to her. The table leg was picked up and briefly examined before being tucked innocuously off to the side.

The course of a few minutes for conversation passes. The door to the chamber makes a brittle humming noise, swishing back quite sharply. Now that dog butt no longer clouds the interior, the blue-skinned Accuser in a green and white tabard is visible.

Boston English? Yes, it's that Accuser. A Kree who speaks as though he graduated from MIT might be something of a stranger to Crystal, but not to Triton. "I would ask you how you find your quarters."

Crystal drops down into a seat, frowning quietly to herself for a long moment. "Given that I couldn't raise Attilan, I've a feeling that Nexus and his flirtations with the systems below the sea may very well have been part of whatever's cut us off," she sighs, settling her chin into her hand. When there's a sound at the door, though, she stiffens, quickly sitting up straight.

Triton nodded faintly. It was a possibility but one he didn't seem convinced of yet. His money might still be on the guy who shot at him that Gorgon was now wearing in his beard. He didn't seem to address the Crystal in the room situation and instead asked the guard, "Have you found any reason why those Kree were on Terra in Akkad?" Tenatious, direct, patient. Your local fish at work.

The Accuser does not step inside, giving a very direct look at man and woman. Woman currently not on the rolls for 'ate someone and showed up.' No doubt there may be a quiet conversation with the chef about the preparations for meals in this particular quadrant.

"I do not participate in the investigation," he answers quite blandly. That Boston accent is strong, precise in its placement on every terminal R. "My assignment is to assure you are comfortable. And this one?" He has eyebrows and angular facial markings that shift to indicate a likely degree of direct question where Crystal is involved.

"Where did you learn English?" Crystal answers a question with a question, head tilting as she stands to walk closer. "You have a…peculiarly regional accent. Is that intentional, or has no one thought to mention it to you?" Usually Crystal is one to be more gently diplomatic. In this case, it seems she's taken another tack. Triton seems to have complete diplomacy covered, after all.

Triton shrugged to the guard, "Someone moved her here. I did not feel it was my place to question it." Which was technically the absolute truth. It was technically correct which the Central Bureaucracy would have mind to point out is still the best kind of correct. Casually he left the emphasis on the red herring, Crystal threw into the mix complimenting from observational standpoint, "Their range of colloquial literacy is entirely impressive." Compliments to skill and merit always flew.

"Does this one have a name by which to distinguish her? It is customary rude to call an individual by a pronoun in their presence." Yes, that's a Kree Accuser giving lessons on etiquette and manners. His hammer rides at his back, typical of any of his station, but the tall, solidly built blue alien does not demonstrate an outward hostility or propensity for pulling the weapon free. "We have not met. I represent the Toliman quadrant Accuser Corps." That should explain everything, right? Apparently. "It is not uncommon for us to have dialects. I have heard this man speak in a very archaic form of our language. However, you are largely understood to us. Is nourishment necessary and what manner of matter do you require?" This to Triton. Because he is a cannibal.

Crystal's lips quirk in a faint smile. "It's just that you have a distinct Boston accent, which is interesting, because as far as I've heard, there's been no Kree activity in Boston. So." At the request for a name, she dips her chin, half-bending in a polite gesture of a bow. "I am Crystal. Have you a name, or do we refer to you by your quadrant?"

Triton nodded to Toliman but did not answer as Crystal could more than adequately speak for herself. He took a step back passively taking a posture against the wall and thought about it. "That would be appreciated. Anything based on vegetation would be appreciated. Could we ask you, where or what is XORRAR-15 and who was there?" There were some things his mind keeps going back to and it was in the initial transmissions he noted someone was trying to contact this guy, and there were escapees… why were they captive then begs the question? Why did he know esoteric dialects? More questions than answers.

The Accuser needs a moment to translate back what the likely meaning is, and he nods. "One is called Sun-Wu the Accuser. Crystal." He repeats the name. Corrections of sound are important. "Toliman quadrant. You have not been found in breach of imperial laws for trespass, belligerence, and false representation. When the Accuser decides, the appropriate judgment and action will follow. The situation will require further consideration, given that you were not initially known."

At least he's polite. Almost painfully so, given everything. "That question, Terran, is very odd. What prompts this?"

"A pleasure to meet you, Sun-Wu the Accuser," Crystal replies with a dip of her chin. If it's a matter of being polite to the stranger, well. She can do polite. Until Lockjaw hopefully returns. Eventually. She glances between him and Triton at the question, falling silent for the answer.

Triton shook his head, "Strange information found form one of the sites." He wasn't going to hand him that they intercepted signal. "The word came up as did Toliman and I am wondering, in deference to yourself, Accuser Sun-Wu, where the Kree that attacked us at Akkad came from." He looked around and gestured to the empty room, "I'd had nothing but these musings to wonder about in the absence of my companions. My concern is for the safety of our home planet, as well as the honour of those on this ship should someone else's actions attempt to put accountability on yourselves, falsely."

"I cannot ask you to account for every person on your planet. We cannot account for every citizen of our empire." Sun-Wu, who indeed has a name, spreads his hands. "Suppose that one Kree was on Earth for a reason. It is someone's decision and not mine. Now see too that two in your party came with blood on their bodies, blood of our people. We have two injured Kree who experienced hostility. The situation is… unclear." And unclear has a slant of language implying he's not thrilled by this, a creature of law and investigating angles as he is. Angular lines flicker and bend as his expression resolves to thoughtfulness. "Is this a word common in your language?"

"You may not be aware, but this planet recently had issues when the conflict with the Skrulls spilled over into its lands," Crystal notes, settling back into her seat like a queen on her throne. "There is…something of a high alert when it comes to extraterrestrial activity at this time. Which word are you speaking of?" she asks, head tilting slightly. "Unclear?"

Triton nodded slowly and offered for thought not accusation, "If we showed up with blood of your people on us and there were no Kree that invaded Terra first… then how would it have gotten there?" He let that one sink in as the best question of 8 hours ago was Who shot first; Han or Greedo v. 1.0? "Unclear is understood. We appreciate the reason and effort offered to make known the situation." Triton looked to Crystal. at least they were slowly getting somewhere. There was a slow nod as it was his best guess too.

"The 'zor yar?'" It's the closest Sun-Wu can get to, and he taps his head. "We have not encountered your people. You came to our ship with the blood of Kree on you. However it got there, you surely understand our response must be measured and careful. The Accuser does not act lightly." He is apparently referring to the superior accuser, she of the best weapon, grim and fierce and blue. "It is a positive sign that you both are willing to speak. I will of course inform her that you have cooperated in questions and availed yourself of the hospitality. We do not entirely understand why you were brought here. Especially one called Crystal." Apparently two-timing on a ruin will do that to a girl. Maybe.

His expression hardens to a colder mask at the mention of the Skrulls, his nose effectively tweaked. "This is unfortunate. Skrull activity would complicate matters."

"It was most unfortunate," Crystal agrees. "They assassinated the leader of one of the strongest nations on Earth, a very good man who had the potential to make great strides toward higher civilization for the entire planet. Despite his loss, a coalition of forces was able to repel further issues, at least so far as we've been able to ascertain." Which is to say, yeah, we kicked their asses.

Triton shook his head and offered up, "No, XORRAR-15 is not. It was read by the system from there to your home sector. We came seeing information on this transgression but it seems as if we will all wait and see." He was still wondering about that table leg. Where the hell did Lockjaw get that from anyways?

Lockjaw is probably having a steak and eating a table, just to really upset Steve and Tony. They will no doubt have a fight about Tony's drunken bender and Steve's problems with symmetry. In that, you know, he needs it.

"I will make inquiries," says the Accuser. He steps back from the doorway. "The requested nutritional supplements will be sent your way." Who likes space-kale?

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