I'm a Mandalorian.

[foundlingfather]

WHO: Din Djarin, OTA
WHERE: Calibrations room
WHAT: Calibrations stuff
WHEN: June 2nd to July 10th
WARNINGS: War, death, kidnapping, betrayal. Din does not live a nice life, will add more as needed.

This room almost looks like it could be straight out of one of the ships on Agra Ten. It looks very utilitarian, with nets and various things hanging off the walls, or tucked in behind the nets. Dimly lit, it certainly looks like it could hold alot, even if not very comfortably. At one end there's even a small bedroom, if it could be called that since it only houses a bed.

Din himself stands at one end, in front of an open weapons, currently occupied with cleaning a rather interesting looking long rifle. Looking around the room, you may be able to spot things that catch your eye. Resting on top of a box, almost missable in the lighting, is a small block of steel marked with a symbol in the lower right corner. Beskar steel, for anyone that may recognize it as such. Set down near Din, there's a blaster pistol, waiting to be cleaned by it's owner. Looking completely out of place compared to everything else here, a folded up red hood sits tucked in behind one of the nets

If you're feeling curious or adventurous, on one wall there's a metal ladder, that leads up to the cockpit of the ship. Even smaller than down below it's obvious this ship is only meant to be manned by a small crew. With one pilot seat, and two jump seats in the rear. Various buttons blink or shine, but the ship itself is in low power mode, as it drifts through space. A billion stars viewable from the cockpit windows. If you can draw your gaze from the billions of stars outside, on the right jump seat(if coming from the doorway) there's a small blinking red light. That of a tracking fob. That sits innocently on the cushion of the seat.

Comments

[deal_me_in]

This looks much more like the places he's used to. Not comfortable, but it serves its purpose, and he's not disappointed in the least to see that there's some kind of armored figure here. A Hunter, if he went by fashion-standards of home. The helmet's a different design than he's seen trending around, but he kind of likes the look of it.

For all the metal face may classify him as machine, the Exo moves as fluidly as a person of flesh and blood. He stands there with his fists at his sides admiring the weapons, emitting a whistle at the rifle the Mandalorian works with. Which means that's hands off (for now), so he'll just have to put his nosy paws somewhere else.

"Nice place here," he says as he takes a look around, like he's browsing a shop.

[art_of_war]

Dimly lit and a little grubby but Thrawn, of course, sees it's an old clone war troop carrier. An odd choice for a ship that someone was most definitely living in.

A few more steps and he looked at the Beskar steel with a raised eyebrow. Unless he was mistaken (which is not likely) that was made from Mandalorian battle armor. Had this person killed a Mandalorian and been able to smelt their armor down? That was also unlikely but it did make Thrawn warier than he had been.

When he walked he took care to allow his pant legs to rustle as they brushed past each other and for his footsteps to be marginally more audible so he could not be accused of 'sneaking up' on anyone.

[beholding_archivist]

"Jesus Christ!" Yes, that would be Jon's initial reaction to finding himself in a- a.... a........ Yes. WHEREVER HE IS! This isn't a room. This is a place that promises to yell at him if he so much as thinks about touching anything.

He dares to take a single step forward, hands kept closely and carefully in front of himself, entirely missing the armored man blending in so effortlessly with his surroundings at first, muttering more to himself than attempting to address anyone. "W- wha-- Where...? Who?!"

No. He does not like this. At all.

[backoff]

The space he finds himself in is still new for him. For Cloud it reminds him of being in the back of a Shinra vehicle or any vehicle with a back to it. He could feel that feeling of wanting to be sick. Motion sickness is a sure weakness for him being on a ship that flies he'll be fine as long as he's nervous.

His eyes catches sight of Din at the end of the room, but they go back to wandering around the sight of the ship. Cloud keeps his hands to himself while walking over to Din as he cleans his long rifle. "What kind of weapon is that?"

If you're still accepting tags this late

[happybeeps]

Poe's sure it's a ship before he's taken more than a few steps, an older model, to him at least, but one he's seen before.

He catches sight of the Mandalorian, and pauses briefly as he watches him clean his weapon, impressed by the rifle, and his head cocks curiously.

"You wear the helmet even in here, mm? "

Sure, if you don't mind forever late tags, lol.

[foundlingfather]

The pre-Empire Razor Crest is definitely an old ship. But it's a good old ship. Working fine for what Din needed it to do.

Din pauses in his rifle cleaning, to look up at Poe. Under the helmet he raises an eyebrow, not that Poe can see it.

"Yes. I keep getting...visitors." Really, if people didn't show up, he'd take it off

I'm sorry John xD

[foundlingfather]

John's initial yell, is enough to startle Din. Who had been focusing on the cleaning of his weapon. But it only takes a moment for Din to whirl and level the weapon at the alarmed man. Fortunately before John is shocked or vaporized, Din realizes this must be another one of these visitations. He slowly lowers the weapon again as he watches John looking around, and muttering to himself.

The guy's like a caged bantha. Not a threat.

"First time on a ship?" For a man that was just leveling a weapon, Din's voice is oddly calm.

[beholding_archivist]

Only that a bantha would be decidedly larger than Jon, who tends to be on the shorter end of men his age. And he sure isn't above screaming in surprise when threatened with a large weapon.

"WAAAH!!" By now Jon should be aware that they can't be hurt in these dreams, but still. He has both his hands up and just stares at the-- Robot? Well, if this one is another robot, then at least he lowers his weapon again quite quickly, earning him a relieved exhale from the Archivist along with a stuttered answer.

"Ah- w-w-well... I- I mean.... I suppose...?"

[foundlingfather]

Much much larger than John, certainly.

Din stares at the man through his visor for a moment, before finally relaxing some, and turning the weapon so it's facing the ceiling. Out of a position to be easily fired. Din's aware they can't be hurt either in these strange visits. But old habits die hard, specially when someone startles you. After a moment, he just nods at the stuttered answer.

"Relax, you'll be fine." Now that he doesn't have a weapon pointed at him, anyway. "What's your name?"

[beholding_archivist]

"S-Sims. Jonathan Sims- I mean... J-Jon. Jon is fine." Jon answers quickly, not quite lowering his hands yet.

"I- I don't think I have seen you around Temba before...?"

[foundlingfather]

Cayde's not far off, in calling Din a hunter. Only Din hunts bounties, rather than any game. Way more profitable. Din looks up when he hears the whistle. and jerks a little at the sight of the...robot? Droid? Only he doesn't really move like either of those. It takes a minute as he gathers himself from the shock, before he relaxes a little, pausing in the cleaning of the riffle, to nod in return.

"Thanks." He may or may not be smiling a little under the helmet, despite himself. "Have an interest in guns?"

Hope this is okay xD

[foundlingfather]

The Razor Crest wasn't the largest of ships, nor the most comfortable. But it worked well as a ship for a bounty hunter, who mostly worked on his own. When Thrawn arrived, Din had been up in the cockpit when he heard sounds of footsteps in the otherwise quiet ships.

So in a few minutes, he's climbing down the metal ladder, dropping down to the floor from the last few rungs as he regards Thrawn with a tilted head. Ah, Chiss. Finally a species he recognized.

"Ah, hey."

[deal_me_in]

"Do I!" the Exo beams. "It's...well, I guess more than a hobby. Where I'm from, if you don't have the right equipment, it's your funeral. -although there is absolutely nothing wrong with having a few extras here and there. Just in case."

He circles around, naturally gravitating towards Din, or rather the pistol set there. "Now that is a lovely piece," he says. "No frills, plenty of function, I'll bet." If he's not told otherwise, he'll pick it right up with all the care of a weapons connoisseur.