<a class="link link--internal" href="https://bluemoonroleplaying.com/forums/showthread.php?tid=83335&amp;pid=2015312#pid2015312"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ffa500">Donovan</span></a><br/>Personal Quarters. St. Anne<br/>Midwatch<br/>Tagged: Donovan<br/><hr class="bbc-hr bbc-hr--3"/><br/>Donovan stopped at the door to his personal quarters and planted his feet on the ground, the gravity in his room was set the 3-gees much like his home planet and trying to 'swim' into it was asking to eat floor. Opening the door he stepped inside and felt the familiar, comfortable pull of high gravity on his body. His first few steps into the room were accompanied by the popping and settling of his joints and a contented sigh. It took a few moments for his heart rate to return to its normal, one of the things he disliked most about low gravity.<br/><br/>Once the initial head rush passed he walked to his bunk and pulled a foot locker from under it. It was a heavy duty model with a multi-layered biometric lock. First he gave it his thumb print, then a retina scan, finally plucking a hair from his head for a DNA scan. The lock slid open to reveal a second lock with a keypad. Putting in the seventeen digit code he grinned as he heard the heavy bolts of the lock disengage. He waited for a count of fifteen before opening the lid. If the lock was tampered with it was set up to gas the would be thief with a powerful knock out gas with paralytic properties that lasted for upwards a week and if the lid was attempted to be forced open it was rigged to set out plasma torches inside to destroy the contents. Donovan liked his privacy and took some rather extreme measures to keep it. If the exact pattern he used to enter the locker wasn't followed, fifteen second delay after locks disengaged including the contents would be destroyed as if the locker was being broken into.<br/><br/>Once the lid sat hanging open he smiled down at the first layer of contents. Reaching into a small gap in the center he pulled out the expanding trays to reveal two more tiers of trays underneath, then the main storage compartment. The first tier of trays contained various boxes of ammunition, low velocity rounds for inside space craft enough power to puncture skin and most standard hard suits, but not enough to punch though the walls of a ship. High density armor piercing rounds, chemical delivery rounds with various chemical agents to cause effects from vomiting, paralysis, to death. Anti personal incendiary rounds that only ignite after entering flesh, his personal favorite, and something he would never admit to having on Iona's ship even under such strict containment, remote detonated high explosive rounds that could turn a person into a meaty paste and scattered bits as well as do significant damage to most standard and medium armored vehicles. Selecting three clips of HDAP rounds, and three of API rounds he sat them on his bunk.<br/><br/>The second tier held an impressive array of bladed weapons from all over the universe, just about all of them taken from people that he killed, a few that he bought from his travels. He already kept his favorite on him, his<a class="link link--external" href="http://www.bladehq.com/imgs/fixed-blade-knives/microtech-fixed/microtech-jagdkommando/microtech-jagdkommando-special-black-large.jpg" rel="nofollow ugc noopener" target="_blank">combat stake</a>. After a few minutes of deliberation he decided the one was enough for this outing and moved on to the third tier.<br/><br/>The third tier easily held the most valuable of his collection. Three-hundred and twenty ounces of Sylidium in the form of one ounce coins. One of the new super rare metals found after humanity spread across the galaxy it holds an astonishing value of around fifty thousand credits an ounce. The price is many due to the extreme danger of mining the ore and its high density and light weight, resistance to temperatures exceeding 5,000 degrees Celsius, and its resistance to oxidation and acids. Running his fingers over the mauve hued coins he smiled at the memory of how he acquired such a collection of valuable coins. "Poor bastards never knew what hit them." He muttered to himself with a edge of sadistic pleasure, and it was true, the smugglers who had the shipment were one of his many groups of victims in his wandering years between escaping the Facility and finding his home on the St. Anne, and by far the most valuable of his ill gotten prizes. Their monetary value meant little to him in all actuality, he had enough money to get the things he needed and most of what he wanted. Money was only a means to an end  for him, another tool to be used and nothing more. He planned on giving most of it to Iona after her contract with her family was complete, 25% profits from her runs was one thing, but they were not going to see a single cred of this money.<br/><br/>Reaching into the main compartment he pulled out his medium armored combat EVA suit and helmet sitting them on the bed with his extra clips. Also in the bottom was a random assortment of gear that he had found useful in his carrier as a soldier, mercenary, and general menace to humanity during his wandering years. Each piece was a tried and true item that had it's uses but nothing deemed necessary for what should be a run of the mill supply pick up. Closing up the locker he slide it back under his bunk and rose to his feet. Breathing in deep, controlled breaths he readied himself for the pain.<br/><br/>In his normal ritual he stood in the center of his room and activated all his implants to ensure they were working as they always had. As he did so a<a class="link link--external" href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vznmp2qnqc0" rel="nofollow ugc noopener" target="_blank">screeching static</a>raked through his head, growing steadily louder as more implants were activated. His eyes now glowing their eerie orange seemed to vibrate in their socks with how fast the twitched side to side. A thin sheen of sweat quickly covered his face as his head started to violently twitch in all directions, his jaw clenched so tight his teeth could be heard creaking against each other. As more implants activated his hands and arms started to violently tremble as his fingers preformed a spastic dance to the accompaniment of snapping tendons and cracking knuckles.<br/><br/>A rictus of sheer madness spread across his face as he collapsed to the floor, his entire body thrashing now. White hot needles of pain stabbed into every nerve ending and it felt as though something with searing, jagged claws had torn into his skull and raked his brain. The static grew louder and the screams of thousands of tormented people filtered in from the background adding to the cacophony inside his skull. His body snapped into a rigid arch, the back of his head and his heels the only parts touching the floor anymore as the last of the implants activated. Mind numbing pain tore through him leaving him feeling as though he were being flayed alive while being dragged over a bed of super heated razors. Every nerve screamed in glorious pain and the din in his head still grew louder, now joined by the distinct sounds of gunfire on top of everything else. The screams, moments ago wordless cries of agony were now haunting yells of accusations. Eyes rolling into the back of his skull featureless faces filled his sight as they threw their hate filled words at him.<br/><br/>A single voice, hauntingly sweet and tender in the onslaught of sound came to the foreground. The voice of a young girl, whose face emerged from the untold masses in his minds eye. She was pretty, the soft, round features of a girl who hadn't quite left childhood but was well on her way to become a gorgeous woman.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#dda0dd"><i><span style="font-size: 10px">"Help me Donovan! Help me!</span><span style="font-size: 12px"> You promised you wouldn't leave me alone!</span> You promised! Where did you go! <span style="font-size: 15px">WHERE! WHERE! WHY ARE YOU NOT HERE DONOVAN!</span><span style="font-size: 18px"> HELP! HELP! <b>HELPHELPHELPHELPHELP!"</b></span></i></span>The girls eyes opened to reveal empty sockets full of darkness that was deeper than the void of space. Her pleads for help melted into a shrill shriek of horror and pain.<br/><br/>Blackness. A blackness so all consuming that it even blotted out the sounds. Complete and total void of everything.<br/><br/>Slowly Donovan came back to reality as the implants deactivated leaving him laying on the floor covered in a film of sweat. His breathing was calm, steady, even though he felt he should be panting and gasping for each lung full. "Get up Donovan. You don't have time to be lying on the floor, you have shit to do today." He recognized his voice as his own, but it felt like the words were coming from someone else's mouth. "I said GET UP!" He barked and quickly obeyed him pulling his upper body from the floor in a single swift motion. Looking around his quarters he could feel the rictus of madness still on his face. "Good, now get your ass in gear, the good Doctor is waiting for you." Getting to his feet Donovan looked down the gear he laid out for himself and nodded. "Yeah, I know." He answered himself, his voice much calmer than moments before. "Don't wanna keep her waiting." He muttered as he suited up for the trip.<br/><hr class="bbc-hr bbc-hr--3"/><br/><a class="link link--internal" href="https://bluemoonroleplaying.com/forums/showthread.php?tid=83335&amp;pid=2015312#pid2015312"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ffa500">Donovan</span></a><br/>Bay<br/>Midwatch<br/>Tagged: Doctor Sonakshi Khan<br/><hr class="bbc-hr bbc-hr--3"/><br/><br/>Heading to the bay he got there moments before Sonakshi, armed and ready to bust heads. "Glad I didn't keep you waiting Doc." He said the glint of madness strong in his eyes. "What's the plan when we get station side? We looking for legit supplies or should I sniff out the good stuff for you?" He inquired, the rictus of madness gone from his face, but replaced by an equally unsettling smile that promised violence to any that crossed him.