outer_divide | 009 ⌥ TEXT [filtered against erik, sorry bro]

1. If you join him, you're a fool. A public call to arms is what the enemy's been waiting for. They'll kill you where you stand. No hesitation, no remorse.

[Yes, Shepard has a plan. No, she isn't letting on that she has one here. If Erik wants to be a big flaming distraction, more power to him, but she isn't letting him take anyone else down with him.]

2. My offer for weaponry's still open. No compensation necessary, I got what I needed. If you can't shoot, I'll teach you. He was right on one thing: Defense is crucial.

3. Eliot, a word? Later tonight, unless you want in goring range of a ten-ton reptile. Let me know where to find you.

4. Kaidan--I'm on my way.

[She thinks. She and the triceratops are doing a bit of sizing up as she types this, so it's all up in the air how well this'll end up working.

MEANWHILE, anyone on the main road will see a single triceratops making haste more-or-less toward the pen Kaidan mentioned. It has two or three ropes tied near the ends of each of the two primary horns, the other ends of which are in her hands as she straddles its shoulders, just barely too far back for any potential injuries from the dinosaur's crest. The aforementioned hands are glowing a faint blue--she's strong, but not quite strong enough to steer a triceratops. Not without her biotics, anyway.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[The triceratops is hard to miss, and Randolph Lyall, walking down the road into town, has to stop and stare to make sure he's seeing it right. He only barely keeps himself together enough to not drop his dispatch case, but that's pretty much it. He's outright staring, and hang how rude it is to stare.

What in the name of all that's holy is that....

The fact that the beast has a rider doesn't escape his notice, either, but he's staring more at it than her, at least.]

[And she's spotting Randolph, not quite in the path but close enough to warrant a bit of a squint, then a call of:]

Thought I warned you off the main stretch.

[Sorry, Randolph, she thinks you're someone else. Especially with most of her focus on the dinosaur rather than your face. At least she sounds a bit amused rather than irritated?]

[Realizing that the creature is, indeed, real and he's not seeing things-- the smell he can catch now helps, with that-- Lyall sidesteps a little further to the side of the road. Though why the young lady on its back seems to think she's already had contact with him, he has no idea. This place just keeps getting stranger.]

Ah. I hate to contradict you, madam, but I'm afraid I've never seen you before.

[So in fact, no, she didn't warn him of anything.]

[And she's glancing at him again now in something like confusion. Sure as hell looks like the Doctor, but his clothes are different, and something about his tone and the way he stands is just... off.]

Then I'll tell you now: You'll probably get that a lot. [A pause as she wrangles at the ropes on one side to keep the dinosaur from veering.] You look just like one of our doctors. Identical. [He's not really a doctor, but that's not the point.]

[This is beyond ridiculous. He's speaking to a woman on top of a... a dragon? About apparently looking like someone else entirely. Lyall has never before been legitimately confused for someone else, and gives a confused and impatient little huff, though he does keep his tone polite.]

I will take that into account, madam. Pardon me for asking, but are you from-- there? Here?

[Uncertain just how to refer to... anything at all, he gestures with his case in the direction of the Old City.]

[She shakes her head, then realizes he probably can't tell, as rough as the somewhat-belligerent dinosaur's gait seems to be. So she tries again out loud:]

No.

[Another tug on the reins to one side, then she continues:]

I'm from Citadel Space, circa 2185. [But that's not the answer he was after, is it?] From the ship, like you and most anyone you'll talk to. [The natives tend to keep very strongly to their own, she's noticed.]

[That set of numbers is familiar. Lyall turns some to keep her more in his line of sight, takes in her bearing and clothing, and makes a guess.]

Ah. Commander Shephard? Major Alenko mentioned you.

[But not that you'd be riding a dragon. Or is that one of those dinosaurs he'd been talking about...?]

[It's less 'clothing' and more 'armor', which is probably all the more telling.

Meanwhile, that makes both of them who recognized the other this afternoon, although it's one-for-two in correct recognition.

But the dinosaur's got momentum and it's heading right on past him, so before anything else, she calls dryly:]

If you want to talk, you have to keep up. This thing stops for no man. [Because steering it's the best she can do at this point. Here's hoping it at least stops for the wall of a well-built pen.

After a second, she continues.] Just 'Shepard's fine.

[Definitely more telling. Lyall isn't entirely sure following would be the best idea-- he's not sure where she's going, and it's a bit undignified-- but he wants to at least introduce himself, so he sighs a little and breaks into a trot to follow along.

Back the way he'd come. Oh, well.]

Professor Randolph Lyall, how do you do.

[It seems silly to pop out the polite-society phrase while jogging in the wake of a dragon-dinosaur-thing, but it's how one manages confusing situations, and this is definitely confusing.]

From eighteen seventy-five. I've only just come from that-- ship, as the Major called it. He was quite helpful on the subject of-- well, everything, I suppose.

009 ⌥ TEXT [filtered against erik, sorry bro]

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