Lone World- Swamp
Terrifying deer-thing?
At the words, Ramses withdrew some. He hid the stab of hurt that flashed on his face.
Do I look that terrifying?
Hearing Reqti add on “I believe you are speaking to the ’terrifying deer-thing,'" he hesitated in revealing himself again. Too many negative reactions from past attempts made him skittish. Still, they hadn't attacked yet and he wanted to help. It took a second more before the pale face showed again. This time the figure stepped out from the tree, revealing a rather tall creature appearing human. His torso was covered with a dark blue garment resembling something of a poncho. Underneath, faded tan shorts that were fraying at the edges covered down to his knee. He wore leather sandals, open to the elements of the swamp mud he was wading through. Keeping a hand on the tree for comfort, he edged as far into the open as he would allow himself before responding.
"You mean the impact of the falling star?" he asked. "Well, that's what it looked like.... If you are looking for others, perhaps I can show you the right way? Or at least get you out of Hag's swamp? I-I'm not really welcomed in most towns. People usually think I'm a witch, but I'm not," he added quickly. Something told him they might believe him. There was something strange about these people. The way they look and what they wore weren't anything he's ever seen. The way these strangers talked about the strange object that fell, for some reason, made him think they knew something about it. If they did, he wanted to hear. He sorta wanted to know.
As he said before few entered the swamp, because a few creatures and people like him lived there. They were seen as evil. Even getting this far was strange. It was like they didn't know what people here thought. That might get them in a lot of trouble. He felt it was important to help them before they are attacked and lynched. Most of all...
He really just wanted to talk.
Terrifying deer-thing?
At the words, Ramses withdrew some. He hid the stab of hurt that flashed on his face.
Do I look that terrifying?
Hearing Reqti add on “I believe you are speaking to the ’terrifying deer-thing,'" he hesitated in revealing himself again. Too many negative reactions from past attempts made him skittish. Still, they hadn't attacked yet and he wanted to help. It took a second more before the pale face showed again. This time the figure stepped out from the tree, revealing a rather tall creature appearing human. His torso was covered with a dark blue garment resembling something of a poncho. Underneath, faded tan shorts that were fraying at the edges covered down to his knee. He wore leather sandals, open to the elements of the swamp mud he was wading through. Keeping a hand on the tree for comfort, he edged as far into the open as he would allow himself before responding.
"You mean the impact of the falling star?" he asked. "Well, that's what it looked like.... If you are looking for others, perhaps I can show you the right way? Or at least get you out of Hag's swamp? I-I'm not really welcomed in most towns. People usually think I'm a witch, but I'm not," he added quickly. Something told him they might believe him. There was something strange about these people. The way they look and what they wore weren't anything he's ever seen. The way these strangers talked about the strange object that fell, for some reason, made him think they knew something about it. If they did, he wanted to hear. He sorta wanted to know.
As he said before few entered the swamp, because a few creatures and people like him lived there. They were seen as evil. Even getting this far was strange. It was like they didn't know what people here thought. That might get them in a lot of trouble. He felt it was important to help them before they are attacked and lynched. Most of all...
He really just wanted to talk.
Besieged Kampferian Vessel
Maria rushes down the halls of the vessel, knowing full well that her dragon friend would be close behind. Maria was serious since messing with Dendrils aren't something to be taken lightly. Well that would be true, but Maria certainly enjoyed fighting Dendril forces especially the "cannon fodder" types such as the assaulters and berserkers who make up the bulk of the Dendril forces. As she walks fast down the corridor she glances over her shoulder and says "Alright, Ilya we are currently boarded by...an interesting force known as Dendrils. They are deadly in close range combat, so I recommend you don't get close to them, since they will easy rip apart your scaly hide, yet they are quick on there feet, so having a close range weapon is still quiet effective since they like to close the gap" as she finds a console on the wall. "Perfect a commissary, lets get you a weapon" she says as she spots a thin console with a much of buttons and nobs on it. She begins to fiddle around with it "Lets exploit this a bit" as she pulls out a bottle cap with a string on it and puts into the slot and pulls the coin out with the string, before swinging it around as she clicks on a few buttons. Soon a small hidden panel opens up showing an odd looking gun with a drum mag.
She pulls it out and gives it to Ilya explaining "This beauty here is the A-2 automatic shotgun. All you have to do is hold the trigger down and let the pellets fly as metal and flesh melt off your opponent. Once out, you just need to drop the magazine and pop a new in and pull back on the little nob on there and you are ready to go once more" once she was done with her explanation, she turned to one of the various doors that separate the hallway into sections and hear it began as the door began to slowly fold as if some is trying to get through with immense strength.
Maria chuckled just knowing how many are behind the door, since she knew those banging sounds are Dendril's banging against the door. "Ilya, I'm gonna show you one of the weaknesses when you are dealing with Dendrils in small squads. You can intimidate them" she states as she glances over her shoulder and gives her a wink, as her aura change. She took on a more intmadating stance and once the doors broke, the small squad of dendrils rushed forward but stop dead in their tracks as they see Maria standing in front of them, these metal biological beings with sharp metal teeth, with assault rifles with chainsaws underneath the rifles, pump action shotguns on there arms for some of them and even wielding saw like blades that act like a chainsaw, yet these beings stand frozen before Maria. She chuckles and if by slow motion, she takes a combative stance and with one round house kick, three metal heads with bright orange eyes and metal sharp teeth, gone. There bodies at the same time, drop down at the same time, as there orange goo blood spills upon the metal floor. The rest took a step back as Maria step forward and grip one by the chest and began to slowly open its chest. The Dendril in her hand began to panic while its buddies stood in horror as Maria with her metal hands slowly pried the dendril in hand apart. Soon, she ripped apart the Dendril assualter in half as she step forward and then became much quicker. The Dendrils steeled their metal hearts and charged her. Maria took advantage with two lighting fast punches she bashing in there faces, knocking one of them back while the other one opened its mouth as its teeth fell out like shattered glass. One of the Berserkers swung his sword at her, she grabs its arm mid swing and tears the arm off! The Berserker backs off in a panic and runs away even though its other arm is a shotgun, but seeing the Berserker made the others run, leaving one left as it stood in front of Maria.
Maria tapped the top of its head, causing it to temporary knock it out, as it fell to the floor. She reaches down and grips it by the leg, in which woke back up, and begins to squirm and panic. Maria gave might growl as she swung the Dendril over head and splat it upon the ground behind her in front of Ilya as more orange goo blood splattered all over the walls, floor, and on Maria and possibly on the dragon lady. Maria lets go of the dead dendril and says "Creative kills equals, sheer intimidation" as she looks at the dragon lady. Her eyes went wide as she yells "Ilya! 6 o'clock behind you!" as she sees a Berserker charging down the dragon lady who must have taken the vents to get around them. Maria went for her gun, but she knew she would be a few seconds late. The Dendril closed the distance quickly and gave a small jump with its sword in hand, intending to drop down on the dragon lady and let the chain-saw like teeth, rip into her scales and body if it lands and if Ilya is too slow to react.
Maria rushes down the halls of the vessel, knowing full well that her dragon friend would be close behind. Maria was serious since messing with Dendrils aren't something to be taken lightly. Well that would be true, but Maria certainly enjoyed fighting Dendril forces especially the "cannon fodder" types such as the assaulters and berserkers who make up the bulk of the Dendril forces. As she walks fast down the corridor she glances over her shoulder and says "Alright, Ilya we are currently boarded by...an interesting force known as Dendrils. They are deadly in close range combat, so I recommend you don't get close to them, since they will easy rip apart your scaly hide, yet they are quick on there feet, so having a close range weapon is still quiet effective since they like to close the gap" as she finds a console on the wall. "Perfect a commissary, lets get you a weapon" she says as she spots a thin console with a much of buttons and nobs on it. She begins to fiddle around with it "Lets exploit this a bit" as she pulls out a bottle cap with a string on it and puts into the slot and pulls the coin out with the string, before swinging it around as she clicks on a few buttons. Soon a small hidden panel opens up showing an odd looking gun with a drum mag.
She pulls it out and gives it to Ilya explaining "This beauty here is the A-2 automatic shotgun. All you have to do is hold the trigger down and let the pellets fly as metal and flesh melt off your opponent. Once out, you just need to drop the magazine and pop a new in and pull back on the little nob on there and you are ready to go once more" once she was done with her explanation, she turned to one of the various doors that separate the hallway into sections and hear it began as the door began to slowly fold as if some is trying to get through with immense strength.
Maria chuckled just knowing how many are behind the door, since she knew those banging sounds are Dendril's banging against the door. "Ilya, I'm gonna show you one of the weaknesses when you are dealing with Dendrils in small squads. You can intimidate them" she states as she glances over her shoulder and gives her a wink, as her aura change. She took on a more intmadating stance and once the doors broke, the small squad of dendrils rushed forward but stop dead in their tracks as they see Maria standing in front of them, these metal biological beings with sharp metal teeth, with assault rifles with chainsaws underneath the rifles, pump action shotguns on there arms for some of them and even wielding saw like blades that act like a chainsaw, yet these beings stand frozen before Maria. She chuckles and if by slow motion, she takes a combative stance and with one round house kick, three metal heads with bright orange eyes and metal sharp teeth, gone. There bodies at the same time, drop down at the same time, as there orange goo blood spills upon the metal floor. The rest took a step back as Maria step forward and grip one by the chest and began to slowly open its chest. The Dendril in her hand began to panic while its buddies stood in horror as Maria with her metal hands slowly pried the dendril in hand apart. Soon, she ripped apart the Dendril assualter in half as she step forward and then became much quicker. The Dendrils steeled their metal hearts and charged her. Maria took advantage with two lighting fast punches she bashing in there faces, knocking one of them back while the other one opened its mouth as its teeth fell out like shattered glass. One of the Berserkers swung his sword at her, she grabs its arm mid swing and tears the arm off! The Berserker backs off in a panic and runs away even though its other arm is a shotgun, but seeing the Berserker made the others run, leaving one left as it stood in front of Maria.
Maria tapped the top of its head, causing it to temporary knock it out, as it fell to the floor. She reaches down and grips it by the leg, in which woke back up, and begins to squirm and panic. Maria gave might growl as she swung the Dendril over head and splat it upon the ground behind her in front of Ilya as more orange goo blood splattered all over the walls, floor, and on Maria and possibly on the dragon lady. Maria lets go of the dead dendril and says "Creative kills equals, sheer intimidation" as she looks at the dragon lady. Her eyes went wide as she yells "Ilya! 6 o'clock behind you!" as she sees a Berserker charging down the dragon lady who must have taken the vents to get around them. Maria went for her gun, but she knew she would be a few seconds late. The Dendril closed the distance quickly and gave a small jump with its sword in hand, intending to drop down on the dragon lady and let the chain-saw like teeth, rip into her scales and body if it lands and if Ilya is too slow to react.
New Vegas
Hayden
Hayden was having a blissful time with Ketin, drinking and laughing as more drinks came in and went. Hayden knew he was wasted but he kept up his charming side wanting to bed Ketin at some point since he could tell he was gonna be in some fun. Hayden actually never had partied as hard as he has with this fox boy. Truly in his long life he did feel actually happy. Hell if he wouldn't mind letting Ketin be co-owner of his casino of vice and sin...making the fox boy into a Dimensional Lord. However little did the Lord of Vice knew that once Ketin went to the restroom, it would be the last time he'll ever see him. As Ketin said he would be back Hayden just waved as he continued his drink, blissfully unaware of what had happen. He just chuckled to himself and continue to drink himself on the bar. A fresh drink for Ketin who would never come back out...
Luke
Luke came by and said "I only wanted to be with a fellow noble. You hide yourself within a cold exterior yet you still carry yourself with class and grace like any noblewoman I have seen and been around" he says with a warm smile as he stepped out of the way as Dhari went by the first time around. However as he stepped away from Dhari so he could pass, Luke happened to himself into a herd of people who were rushing, thus catching himself into the swarm. As he was dragged across within the mass of beings he yells out "I KNOW WE DIDN'T TO TALK MUCH, BUT I HOPE WE MEET SOON!" thus vanishing into the crowds of people having a good time and for the blonde haired man disappearing. Allowing for the assassin to see everything around the casino once more clearly and without distraction from the accented man.
Ova
The Lord of Darkness and Undead merely sipped on her red wine as Aranldo spoke in how she knew him. Confidently she spoke "I know everything when it comes to souls who have lived longer than they are intended too. You and a few others were suppose to die in the early part of your long lives yet you don't...so I investigate like any good investigator does to find answers. Of course, being a Dimensional Lord as powerful as myself, doing investigations like that isn't so hard, yet I still don't know everything about a person, a flaw that even smarty pants like Erica have. The mortal element is always a trickery variable and thus proving to that lord of time and space that she cannot control this mortal plans of existence through her forced way of maintaining balance of chaos and order" she lays back on the chair getting comfortable as her own questions operated the old man's mind and spoke her with his own question.
She smiles "An excellent question that is...however the question you should be asking is What is Evil?" As she took more of her red wine. "The very concept of good and evil are fluid and based on perception. Some may see your actions as killing mafia as a good thing while others see it as evil. We are defined not by our actions being good or evil, but by actions alone and our goals. For example, I am constantly seen as the antagonist, evil doer who must be stopped. Yet what I want is to unite the Galaxy under my banner for the benefit of everyone who lives on said galaxy, I want people to live not in a galaxy that Kampfer has built in where beings are kidnapped and experimented on for his own progress of science nor do I want a galaxy built on Erica's vision of balance because it would only end in the galaxy being consumed by her Dendril Hordes. Plus the galactic empire is already as shady as it can be is not a galaxy I want to see come to fruition. What I want is a Galaxy under my leadership that in which the people can go about there day and be happy and merry, unafraid of each other. I merely wish for peace and happiness and if i need to do despicable things then I will do to achieve it" as she looks at the old man with her cold eyes as she sets her own drink down.
"Thus for these goals I have, Kampfer and Erica have painted me as the bad guy, the one of pure evil. Yet I'm willing to bet you see my goals as possibly noble? Life is more grey than clear cut good or evil. However in the end of the day the victor writes history and this decides what is good and what is evil and that line will change as time progresses. In reality, the actions you choose alone are what define you and your ideals. However you being with a group because they promise you friendship to many see as a honorable thing to do, but it also shows you have a heavy heart and that is why you asked me that question. Sadly I cannot give you this answer because the answer lies with you. Do you see it as evil? Is your actions that you took at the time evil? If I said it was evil then there are others who would say it is good, so in reality the thought process of others do not mean anything since everyone has a differentiating opinion. Answering this question will develop yourself as a person further, giving you a far better understanding yourself than you had before" she spoke him without breaking eye contact.
Letting Aranldo think on her answer, she glances over and sees Ketin walking into corridors and such, she grins. "Arnaldo...my job of as a Dimensional Lord of the Undead is to collect souls. I'm really here for business" her grin disappears as she stood up. Then she felt it when her eyes went wide for just a moment and came back down, knowing that Ketin was gone, not able to feel that 300 year old soul anymore. "When lost souls wonder they cannot find peace and once they find peace, they finally are laid to rest. Ketin Clark was never alive. He died 300 years ago trying to escape his facility and had become a wondering spirit that you could interact with. Ketin was never truly happy because of what he had to go through. However as he came here and began to party as hard as he could, he was truly happy and so his restless soul finally found peace" she says as a small cage like device on her hip with a rod in the middle began to glow with almost ghostly blue.
She caressed the cage device in her hand as she looked down. "So his soul finally is now safely captured, so now I can properly put him to rest, since he just came finally left the realm of the living only a few short moments ago" she adds as she puts her hand on her hilt of her sword that was still sheathed on her hip. "Do not be mad at me or at Hayden, he has no idea in what has happened and came here to actually apologize to Ketin and see if I can join your little crew. Yet turn of events have changed such things, allowing me to collect the soul of a rested boy, doing my job" she then turns around and flashes a smile at Nirix and waves to her goodbye. As she began to walk away, she glances back and says "Goodbye, Aranldo, I know your assassin is gonna want answers so tell her what I told you, and if she isn't satisfied, tell her to come to Konningsberg castle and I will settle her grieving heart" as she begins to walk towards one of the exit portals to head back home.
Hayden
Hayden was having a blissful time with Ketin, drinking and laughing as more drinks came in and went. Hayden knew he was wasted but he kept up his charming side wanting to bed Ketin at some point since he could tell he was gonna be in some fun. Hayden actually never had partied as hard as he has with this fox boy. Truly in his long life he did feel actually happy. Hell if he wouldn't mind letting Ketin be co-owner of his casino of vice and sin...making the fox boy into a Dimensional Lord. However little did the Lord of Vice knew that once Ketin went to the restroom, it would be the last time he'll ever see him. As Ketin said he would be back Hayden just waved as he continued his drink, blissfully unaware of what had happen. He just chuckled to himself and continue to drink himself on the bar. A fresh drink for Ketin who would never come back out...
Luke
Luke came by and said "I only wanted to be with a fellow noble. You hide yourself within a cold exterior yet you still carry yourself with class and grace like any noblewoman I have seen and been around" he says with a warm smile as he stepped out of the way as Dhari went by the first time around. However as he stepped away from Dhari so he could pass, Luke happened to himself into a herd of people who were rushing, thus catching himself into the swarm. As he was dragged across within the mass of beings he yells out "I KNOW WE DIDN'T TO TALK MUCH, BUT I HOPE WE MEET SOON!" thus vanishing into the crowds of people having a good time and for the blonde haired man disappearing. Allowing for the assassin to see everything around the casino once more clearly and without distraction from the accented man.
Ova
The Lord of Darkness and Undead merely sipped on her red wine as Aranldo spoke in how she knew him. Confidently she spoke "I know everything when it comes to souls who have lived longer than they are intended too. You and a few others were suppose to die in the early part of your long lives yet you don't...so I investigate like any good investigator does to find answers. Of course, being a Dimensional Lord as powerful as myself, doing investigations like that isn't so hard, yet I still don't know everything about a person, a flaw that even smarty pants like Erica have. The mortal element is always a trickery variable and thus proving to that lord of time and space that she cannot control this mortal plans of existence through her forced way of maintaining balance of chaos and order" she lays back on the chair getting comfortable as her own questions operated the old man's mind and spoke her with his own question.
She smiles "An excellent question that is...however the question you should be asking is What is Evil?" As she took more of her red wine. "The very concept of good and evil are fluid and based on perception. Some may see your actions as killing mafia as a good thing while others see it as evil. We are defined not by our actions being good or evil, but by actions alone and our goals. For example, I am constantly seen as the antagonist, evil doer who must be stopped. Yet what I want is to unite the Galaxy under my banner for the benefit of everyone who lives on said galaxy, I want people to live not in a galaxy that Kampfer has built in where beings are kidnapped and experimented on for his own progress of science nor do I want a galaxy built on Erica's vision of balance because it would only end in the galaxy being consumed by her Dendril Hordes. Plus the galactic empire is already as shady as it can be is not a galaxy I want to see come to fruition. What I want is a Galaxy under my leadership that in which the people can go about there day and be happy and merry, unafraid of each other. I merely wish for peace and happiness and if i need to do despicable things then I will do to achieve it" as she looks at the old man with her cold eyes as she sets her own drink down.
"Thus for these goals I have, Kampfer and Erica have painted me as the bad guy, the one of pure evil. Yet I'm willing to bet you see my goals as possibly noble? Life is more grey than clear cut good or evil. However in the end of the day the victor writes history and this decides what is good and what is evil and that line will change as time progresses. In reality, the actions you choose alone are what define you and your ideals. However you being with a group because they promise you friendship to many see as a honorable thing to do, but it also shows you have a heavy heart and that is why you asked me that question. Sadly I cannot give you this answer because the answer lies with you. Do you see it as evil? Is your actions that you took at the time evil? If I said it was evil then there are others who would say it is good, so in reality the thought process of others do not mean anything since everyone has a differentiating opinion. Answering this question will develop yourself as a person further, giving you a far better understanding yourself than you had before" she spoke him without breaking eye contact.
Letting Aranldo think on her answer, she glances over and sees Ketin walking into corridors and such, she grins. "Arnaldo...my job of as a Dimensional Lord of the Undead is to collect souls. I'm really here for business" her grin disappears as she stood up. Then she felt it when her eyes went wide for just a moment and came back down, knowing that Ketin was gone, not able to feel that 300 year old soul anymore. "When lost souls wonder they cannot find peace and once they find peace, they finally are laid to rest. Ketin Clark was never alive. He died 300 years ago trying to escape his facility and had become a wondering spirit that you could interact with. Ketin was never truly happy because of what he had to go through. However as he came here and began to party as hard as he could, he was truly happy and so his restless soul finally found peace" she says as a small cage like device on her hip with a rod in the middle began to glow with almost ghostly blue.
She caressed the cage device in her hand as she looked down. "So his soul finally is now safely captured, so now I can properly put him to rest, since he just came finally left the realm of the living only a few short moments ago" she adds as she puts her hand on her hilt of her sword that was still sheathed on her hip. "Do not be mad at me or at Hayden, he has no idea in what has happened and came here to actually apologize to Ketin and see if I can join your little crew. Yet turn of events have changed such things, allowing me to collect the soul of a rested boy, doing my job" she then turns around and flashes a smile at Nirix and waves to her goodbye. As she began to walk away, she glances back and says "Goodbye, Aranldo, I know your assassin is gonna want answers so tell her what I told you, and if she isn't satisfied, tell her to come to Konningsberg castle and I will settle her grieving heart" as she begins to walk towards one of the exit portals to head back home.
LoneWorldCity/Dockyard
The man had enough of sitting around and wanted to see if he could get out of this purgatory. From his undead state, he'd summon he would be destined for hell...not surprise, even though he knows the Bible well, he never was one to believe in it when he was constantly in battle, seeing what men can do, thus extinguishing his faith, even when the preist would bless them doing so called "God's work". Yet at the other side the enemy's army priest would be blessing them and telling them the same. However in his state, from black coat being worn down and holes showing bone and grey rotten flesh underneath. His undershirt was in tatters, showing a bare rib-cage and a small purple ghostly light that blinked occasionally in where his heart should be. His right hand was a full skeletal, yet able to move as if muscle and skin were still on them. His other hand was still bounded to his old black leather glove which was in decent shape for being so old. His pants have holes still exposing very little of the grey flesh and bone on them while his cavalry boots where in good condition even though they were covered in ancient dirt and grime. His tricone hat was in good shape, but it too was covered in dirt and grime but not as much as his shoes though but like his shoes, its fused to his head. His face was covered by an old black scarf, showing only his eyes and grey skin. His eyes though showed age, but yet even though clearly looking like a corpse, his eyes were still alive and full of life even though being creepily red. Seeing his state reflected off the water, he knew far well he was in purgatory since he wasn't being cooked alive.
As he walked along the beach that seemed like hours, he soon saw a city in the distance, part of it on fire while the other part seemed relatively peaceful. As he got closer, the city side by the ocean seemed abandon. He made sure his rifle was on his shoulder still and saber was on his waist. His shambling body walked as if doing some kind of hell march down the city streets, his red eyes looking around making sure he wasn't into an ambush. As he came upon the what obviously seemed like a dockyard he saw a ship. To some degree, he was familiar with it, it reminded him of the British Royal Navy ships, but what he wasn't familar were the stacks at the end of the ship though and that the ship seemed to have metal plates on it. As he got closer to docks and began to walk on the docks as the waves crashed and the seagulls chirped as the city burned, Fredrick stopped and looked at the group before what he presumed was the boatman. "A fish man, a gaint bug demon, and African black? This must be the boat to hell then if heathens that the priests call them are true" he says to himself as he walked forward, his old cavalry boats clanking upon the wooden docks as he walked.
As he got closer he heard the boatman talking which made him chuckle as he slowly approached. "Of course the boatman has to be an American colonist" he says to himself as he didn't stop as he got closer to the group. He moved around the bug demon and the fish man. He stood over the African Black who was stunned by the boatman for some reason. He puts his hands on Dal's shoulders to somewhat ease her...some humanity was still left in him. However actions like trying to toss him or even kicking him wouldn't do anything than just faze him as he stared at the man. "Boatman" he says with a stern voice. "How much is it to get out of purgatory and towards Hell? I doubt we ungrateful souls and lost demons wish to be in purgatory anymore? What's the price? I don't have any indulgences, but you are the boatman to take us so I am guessing the price is two gold coins?" as one hand was taken off Dal and pulls out two gold coins, incredibly old gold coins but still shiny though surprisingly after all this time. His skeletal hand still remained on Dal.
The man had enough of sitting around and wanted to see if he could get out of this purgatory. From his undead state, he'd summon he would be destined for hell...not surprise, even though he knows the Bible well, he never was one to believe in it when he was constantly in battle, seeing what men can do, thus extinguishing his faith, even when the preist would bless them doing so called "God's work". Yet at the other side the enemy's army priest would be blessing them and telling them the same. However in his state, from black coat being worn down and holes showing bone and grey rotten flesh underneath. His undershirt was in tatters, showing a bare rib-cage and a small purple ghostly light that blinked occasionally in where his heart should be. His right hand was a full skeletal, yet able to move as if muscle and skin were still on them. His other hand was still bounded to his old black leather glove which was in decent shape for being so old. His pants have holes still exposing very little of the grey flesh and bone on them while his cavalry boots where in good condition even though they were covered in ancient dirt and grime. His tricone hat was in good shape, but it too was covered in dirt and grime but not as much as his shoes though but like his shoes, its fused to his head. His face was covered by an old black scarf, showing only his eyes and grey skin. His eyes though showed age, but yet even though clearly looking like a corpse, his eyes were still alive and full of life even though being creepily red. Seeing his state reflected off the water, he knew far well he was in purgatory since he wasn't being cooked alive.
As he walked along the beach that seemed like hours, he soon saw a city in the distance, part of it on fire while the other part seemed relatively peaceful. As he got closer, the city side by the ocean seemed abandon. He made sure his rifle was on his shoulder still and saber was on his waist. His shambling body walked as if doing some kind of hell march down the city streets, his red eyes looking around making sure he wasn't into an ambush. As he came upon the what obviously seemed like a dockyard he saw a ship. To some degree, he was familiar with it, it reminded him of the British Royal Navy ships, but what he wasn't familar were the stacks at the end of the ship though and that the ship seemed to have metal plates on it. As he got closer to docks and began to walk on the docks as the waves crashed and the seagulls chirped as the city burned, Fredrick stopped and looked at the group before what he presumed was the boatman. "A fish man, a gaint bug demon, and African black? This must be the boat to hell then if heathens that the priests call them are true" he says to himself as he walked forward, his old cavalry boats clanking upon the wooden docks as he walked.
As he got closer he heard the boatman talking which made him chuckle as he slowly approached. "Of course the boatman has to be an American colonist" he says to himself as he didn't stop as he got closer to the group. He moved around the bug demon and the fish man. He stood over the African Black who was stunned by the boatman for some reason. He puts his hands on Dal's shoulders to somewhat ease her...some humanity was still left in him. However actions like trying to toss him or even kicking him wouldn't do anything than just faze him as he stared at the man. "Boatman" he says with a stern voice. "How much is it to get out of purgatory and towards Hell? I doubt we ungrateful souls and lost demons wish to be in purgatory anymore? What's the price? I don't have any indulgences, but you are the boatman to take us so I am guessing the price is two gold coins?" as one hand was taken off Dal and pulls out two gold coins, incredibly old gold coins but still shiny though surprisingly after all this time. His skeletal hand still remained on Dal.
This was a mistake.
Nirix realized this a little too late as her lavender eyes cut across the room. People had begun to pester her more often than not and to eliminate any further interactions, she had done her best to shoo them away. A pale man with eyes the color of a neon sun pushed past her and her drink tumbled from her hands. A frown found itself plastered on her lips and a scandalously dressed hostess, scurried to her to clean the broken glass lest someone injure themselves on the shards via a drunken or something else nonsensical.
It was now that she took her chance.
A crowd swept the blonde away like a tidal wave and she used the distraction to flee out into a fresher environment. A more secluded balcony, one that gave a breathtaking view into the vast expanses of a starry night sky, caught her eye and she had never been more eager to get such a thing. The balcony was a marble ledge, rounded with a thick and eloquently stone carved railing. it was an Oasis and she freely leaned upon the railing as she sought out the small amount of seclusion it provided her. The air here was not as heavy with the awful smell of cigarette smoke and it was less noisy. Slowly, the tension ebbed away from her being and she relaxed and let her mind wander.
Her fingers idly caught the communicator that she had hid in her sleeve. Right now it was peaceful and the idea to call Wick back, crossed her mind more quickly than she thought. Her grip tightened around the communicator before she took a breath and the exhaled. Nirix wasn't sure she could dial him again, it had taken three glasses of alcohol to even get her enough courage to even think about dialing him again and what if he was busy? Sure, she had promised to call him right back but how long was "right back"?
Nirix sighed deeply. Perhaps Ketin would know what to do? He could always keep her distracted from making the call if she was really being honest with herself anyway. Turning around to flee her small sanctuary. her brow furrowed when she noticed a certain orange haired foxkin missing from the bar. At first, her brain tried to rationalize the situation. It was logical, Ketin went to the bathroom or he went to get another drink. Maybe he was chasing skirts? Or pants? Nirix wasn't sure she knew what Ketin's type was but that was beside the point.
She held her breath and waited. 30 seconds. 1 minute. 5 minutes. 10 minutes.
Ketin still hadn't shown up and automatically, her legs move on their own and her heart skipped a few beats before it raced. Wildly, her eyes searched for Arnaldo, hoping to see Ketin with him before she gave up. There was a flash of long black hair and eyes the color of blood; a Woman that somehow made the Eoclu's blood boil and yet chill all the same. The hair on the back of her neck stood up the more she stared at her, the more that she smiled and then suddenly she was gone.
Pushing through crowds of people, Nirix dragged Arnaldo along with such a force that his arm would've nearly been rendered from its socket.
"Ketin is gone and it makes me uneasy," She spoke in a clipped tone, panic clearly in her voice. "We need to find him now. Help me look,"
Nirix did not care for questions right now. She wanted to ask about the Woman with the red eyes but she couldn't. Maybe later but not now. Now she was running – all thoughts of not ruining other people's nights and keeping the sense of normality banished behind a wall of worry. Half her brain gave her the reasons Ketin was alright and the other bombarded her with every terrible scenario she could think of. This was just like before, when she had lost him at the Station or when he had fleed from her during the incident on the Perrygold.
Nirix couldn't let that happen again.
When she reached the bar, she slammed the Dimensional Lord against the bar top, blade already pressed against his neck. "Where did he go?" She hissed at him and left no room for stuttering. If he wasn't sober now, she was definitely going to make him and anyone near him be. Briefly, her eyes darted to the other occupants at the bar and her gaze found a pair of cold neon yellow eyes. It was the man from earlier but for now, she paid him no mind. Her target in front of her had to be dealt with before she sought out any others.
"Su an’banal i’ma! Tell me where he went or I will gut you!"
Nirix realized this a little too late as her lavender eyes cut across the room. People had begun to pester her more often than not and to eliminate any further interactions, she had done her best to shoo them away. A pale man with eyes the color of a neon sun pushed past her and her drink tumbled from her hands. A frown found itself plastered on her lips and a scandalously dressed hostess, scurried to her to clean the broken glass lest someone injure themselves on the shards via a drunken or something else nonsensical.
It was now that she took her chance.
A crowd swept the blonde away like a tidal wave and she used the distraction to flee out into a fresher environment. A more secluded balcony, one that gave a breathtaking view into the vast expanses of a starry night sky, caught her eye and she had never been more eager to get such a thing. The balcony was a marble ledge, rounded with a thick and eloquently stone carved railing. it was an Oasis and she freely leaned upon the railing as she sought out the small amount of seclusion it provided her. The air here was not as heavy with the awful smell of cigarette smoke and it was less noisy. Slowly, the tension ebbed away from her being and she relaxed and let her mind wander.
Her fingers idly caught the communicator that she had hid in her sleeve. Right now it was peaceful and the idea to call Wick back, crossed her mind more quickly than she thought. Her grip tightened around the communicator before she took a breath and the exhaled. Nirix wasn't sure she could dial him again, it had taken three glasses of alcohol to even get her enough courage to even think about dialing him again and what if he was busy? Sure, she had promised to call him right back but how long was "right back"?
Nirix sighed deeply. Perhaps Ketin would know what to do? He could always keep her distracted from making the call if she was really being honest with herself anyway. Turning around to flee her small sanctuary. her brow furrowed when she noticed a certain orange haired foxkin missing from the bar. At first, her brain tried to rationalize the situation. It was logical, Ketin went to the bathroom or he went to get another drink. Maybe he was chasing skirts? Or pants? Nirix wasn't sure she knew what Ketin's type was but that was beside the point.
She held her breath and waited. 30 seconds. 1 minute. 5 minutes. 10 minutes.
Ketin still hadn't shown up and automatically, her legs move on their own and her heart skipped a few beats before it raced. Wildly, her eyes searched for Arnaldo, hoping to see Ketin with him before she gave up. There was a flash of long black hair and eyes the color of blood; a Woman that somehow made the Eoclu's blood boil and yet chill all the same. The hair on the back of her neck stood up the more she stared at her, the more that she smiled and then suddenly she was gone.
Pushing through crowds of people, Nirix dragged Arnaldo along with such a force that his arm would've nearly been rendered from its socket.
"Ketin is gone and it makes me uneasy," She spoke in a clipped tone, panic clearly in her voice. "We need to find him now. Help me look,"
Nirix did not care for questions right now. She wanted to ask about the Woman with the red eyes but she couldn't. Maybe later but not now. Now she was running – all thoughts of not ruining other people's nights and keeping the sense of normality banished behind a wall of worry. Half her brain gave her the reasons Ketin was alright and the other bombarded her with every terrible scenario she could think of. This was just like before, when she had lost him at the Station or when he had fleed from her during the incident on the Perrygold.
Nirix couldn't let that happen again.
When she reached the bar, she slammed the Dimensional Lord against the bar top, blade already pressed against his neck. "Where did he go?" She hissed at him and left no room for stuttering. If he wasn't sober now, she was definitely going to make him and anyone near him be. Briefly, her eyes darted to the other occupants at the bar and her gaze found a pair of cold neon yellow eyes. It was the man from earlier but for now, she paid him no mind. Her target in front of her had to be dealt with before she sought out any others.
"Su an’banal i’ma! Tell me where he went or I will gut you!"
New Vegas
As Dhari kept insistently ignoring the woman hanging stubbornly onto him, his tablet beeped as more reports flooded in. Repairs were under way, even his chief of engineer had sent in the invoice for the parts she'd be needing. While, at the same time, tuning out the woman pestering him. Now totally oblivious to her. Actually...he was oblivious to everyone in the room. Even the bar tender seemed surprise with how tuned out to his surroundings the odd man was.
Of course the woman was still chugging down drink after drink as she continued futile attempts to gain his attention. Eventually getting distracted and moving on. Even then, he wasn't paying attention. The Corigoni was staying here for awhile so he had to take the time to set up everything at the very least. Using a gloved hand to rub the dark circles underneath his piercing yellow eyes. Dhari really wanted nothing more then to sleep right now.
His head was actually hurting some. But it wasn't just the lack of sleep. There was something seriously off about this place. But he could not figure out what it was. And in truth? It was causing a headache and making him want to literally crawl out of his very pale skin. Visibly, the somewhat tall man shudders. The bar tender who was watching him merely raises an eyebrow in curiosity. Silently Dhari looks around briefly in a vague attempt to figure out why he's got this negative feeling about this place.
But seeing the crowd, the slot machines, the brawls going on here and there...he feels something is utterly out of place. It was equally baffling that anyone would willingly walk up to him like the few women that had earlier. Normally people would shy away from him because of his piercing gaze. That and his normal silence seemed to be a deterrent. And yet here? It didn't seem to stop people from coming up to him whatsoever. How...odd?
He sits back into the stool remembering his reports that needed to be answered. Trying to shake the feeling of the prickling sensation as it doesn't sit well with him. Placing his elbow back onto the bar top, resting his cheek into a gloved hand, he continued to answer and issue orders via his black tablet. But a commotion to his left grabs his attention. It was the woman from before. The same one he'd bumped into earlier, and passed by in his hurry to get away from the crowd of women not too long ago.
Piercing yellow irises meet lavender ones for a brief moment.
That's when he sees the blade against the drunken man's throat. Not really sure what has incited this, Dhari shuts off his tablet after issuing a hastily typed message to Codi saying he'd get back to him, and to take over operations until further notice. Taking the black device, he hooks it onto his hip. Snapping the security buckle over it so it won't get loose and drop off somewhere. Catching a few words, the lady seemed to be looking for someone.
He could, in way, relate to it.
Cautiously, Dhari looked from the woman to another man that stood nearby her. Then looking back to the lady again, Dhari slowly moved off the stool. "If you're looking for someone, perhaps I can help?" He keeps his distance from her in case she decided to launch that dagger on him instead. But he felt the urge to do something at the very least when it came to a missing person.
Normally he was silent. But then he did have a heart of gold when it came to caring for someone. So the woman's actions were not totally foreign to him.
((Possible arch titles- Wanted by the Mob? The Mob? Runaway Rewards? Or should we just pick it out by the ship name?))
The spot of the gel-like alien that Ringo punched had only a dent in response that quickly reformed like a memory foam pillow. While others may have been offended by the imitation, the alien took that Ringo was trying to comfort them back, not understanding it was for amusement. They appreciated the gesture. When the box was opened, Muta's multiple senses only recognized it as the same blank rectangle card that they had seen other's use to purchase things on occasion. Without the sense of vision that most species had, they couldn't read the digital letters, or most other printed words, that were used in nearly all activities important or otherwise. There was a small flinch at the clack of the box being slammed closed. "Does this mean-" Mutacogi started to ask before Ringo shoved the spoon into them.
The spent a few seconds focused on the food, dissolving not only the sugar but the spoon as well. Ringo jetting had captured the bartender's attention. "Hey! You didn't pay!" The greenish alien turned to him just as the spoon finished dissolving. "Ur.... never mind. It's on the house," he choked out softly. Mutacogi rushed out where Ringo was revving the bike. In his excitement, he almost left his companion behind, but they grabbed the end of the vehicle just as he took off. They pulled themself onto the seat behind the cowboy taking a seat like a dog once again. "I'll do it," they agreed. "We can look for my planet on the way. Like you said we would. If we do find the lost cityship, then a planet couldn't be too much harder." Their hand stuck out into Ringo's field of vision to imitate Ringo's gesture as a sign of agreement.
Mutacogi saw no reason to stay on this planet. They had had no luck in finding travel or any information about his planet. Going to different planets would be a start. Even if they didn't find information, it definitely sounded like a lot of excitement and fun. Maybe the biggest reason though was because he wanted to stay with his new friend.
The spot of the gel-like alien that Ringo punched had only a dent in response that quickly reformed like a memory foam pillow. While others may have been offended by the imitation, the alien took that Ringo was trying to comfort them back, not understanding it was for amusement. They appreciated the gesture. When the box was opened, Muta's multiple senses only recognized it as the same blank rectangle card that they had seen other's use to purchase things on occasion. Without the sense of vision that most species had, they couldn't read the digital letters, or most other printed words, that were used in nearly all activities important or otherwise. There was a small flinch at the clack of the box being slammed closed. "Does this mean-" Mutacogi started to ask before Ringo shoved the spoon into them.
The spent a few seconds focused on the food, dissolving not only the sugar but the spoon as well. Ringo jetting had captured the bartender's attention. "Hey! You didn't pay!" The greenish alien turned to him just as the spoon finished dissolving. "Ur.... never mind. It's on the house," he choked out softly. Mutacogi rushed out where Ringo was revving the bike. In his excitement, he almost left his companion behind, but they grabbed the end of the vehicle just as he took off. They pulled themself onto the seat behind the cowboy taking a seat like a dog once again. "I'll do it," they agreed. "We can look for my planet on the way. Like you said we would. If we do find the lost cityship, then a planet couldn't be too much harder." Their hand stuck out into Ringo's field of vision to imitate Ringo's gesture as a sign of agreement.
Mutacogi saw no reason to stay on this planet. They had had no luck in finding travel or any information about his planet. Going to different planets would be a start. Even if they didn't find information, it definitely sounded like a lot of excitement and fun. Maybe the biggest reason though was because he wanted to stay with his new friend.
Farming Village
The storehouse was as it looked- it was not the advanced storehouses of metal and glowing circuitry, guarded and full of ammunition and clothing and food rations. It was old, but it was clean, for the most part. In fact, there didn’t seem to be any recent activity- which just added to his worries.
No signs of struggle, no trampling tracks, nothing. If the villagers were in no danger, no hurry, then what could have possibly lured them all away, never to return?
Rin swiftly turned away as Ty started to strip, going a little ways behind a wall for a little privacy. He grabbed a few clean rags off a nearby shelf and soaked them through with water from another barrel to wipe all the blood and sweat and dirt he’d acquired since their crash. He paused at his arm, bit his lip, and scrubbed it furiously before dumping the dirty rags and digging through another shelf, humming almost absent-mindedly to himself.
It took him an embarrassingly long time before he got something he liked. A dark violet tunic he’d found was easily cut with his knife; now open in the front like a coat, he wrapped it around himself, like a short yukata, and cut a black sash out of another tunic, tying it behind his back. He managed to snag some dark pants that actually fit, too. He refused to think that it was because it was for a child.
The boots he left on, deeming it inconspicuous enough, and ripped a black strip out of a clean rag, tying his hair up in a ponytail. Strapping on his belt and securing his knife, he turned to Ty, who was also now dressed and ready to go.
”So… now what?” A pause. ”Check out the town, I guess…?”
“Sounds good,” Rin replied, meeting Ty’s eyes for a few seconds before looking elsewhere. No, he wasn’t going to mention anything if Ty wasn’t. He… he didn’t want to think about it.
Not now.
Swamp
The creature that stepped forward was more humanoid in appearance- worn clothes, pale face. He seemed a bit timid, and Reqti relaxed - mostly. All the same, appearances could be deceiving, but as long as the creature wasn’t aggressive, he wouldn’t act in a way that would cause unnecessary conflict.
As the… male? Creature spoke, Reqti turned to Sands, eyeing him in a way that seemed to reveal his thoughts on the matter. Reqti personally believed that this creature didn’t mean any harm, and that he? Was possibly the way out of the swamp and into a place where they could get their bearings and make a plan.
He wanted to know what Sands thought. He wanted to know if they could be of one mind in this.
Docks
Vaxur tensed, hand coming up to rest casually on his rifle handle. From the corner of his eye, he could he Commander Wyr’s hands - twitching, still. Anxious. Even the Qetan stopped, a little behind her captor.
Dal looked…
When he saw her for the first time he knew. She was a real soldier. Rough around the edges, but with a heart that still beat. She wasn’t easily scared. Not easily silenced.
Which is why it unnerved him when she just… didn’t. Say anything. At all.
Was there… something overtly strange about this man? Was it the way he casually greeted non-humans, not flinching in the face of advanced weaponry? He might have been a spacer who retired in a planet that knew nothing about the ins and outs of space, after all, but maybe it was unheard of in… this universe…?
Gah, multiple universes. Weird still.
But then he really slung his rifle over his shoulder and home into his hands, pointing the barrel of his weapon at the… half-dead… dude that just appeared out of nowhere and just casually touched Dal’s shoulder like-
“Step. Aside,” Vaxur growled, leveling his rifle on the intruder's head. Commander Wyr stayed silent, but her fingers were half-curled, ready for anything.
The storehouse was as it looked- it was not the advanced storehouses of metal and glowing circuitry, guarded and full of ammunition and clothing and food rations. It was old, but it was clean, for the most part. In fact, there didn’t seem to be any recent activity- which just added to his worries.
No signs of struggle, no trampling tracks, nothing. If the villagers were in no danger, no hurry, then what could have possibly lured them all away, never to return?
Rin swiftly turned away as Ty started to strip, going a little ways behind a wall for a little privacy. He grabbed a few clean rags off a nearby shelf and soaked them through with water from another barrel to wipe all the blood and sweat and dirt he’d acquired since their crash. He paused at his arm, bit his lip, and scrubbed it furiously before dumping the dirty rags and digging through another shelf, humming almost absent-mindedly to himself.
It took him an embarrassingly long time before he got something he liked. A dark violet tunic he’d found was easily cut with his knife; now open in the front like a coat, he wrapped it around himself, like a short yukata, and cut a black sash out of another tunic, tying it behind his back. He managed to snag some dark pants that actually fit, too. He refused to think that it was because it was for a child.
The boots he left on, deeming it inconspicuous enough, and ripped a black strip out of a clean rag, tying his hair up in a ponytail. Strapping on his belt and securing his knife, he turned to Ty, who was also now dressed and ready to go.
”So… now what?” A pause. ”Check out the town, I guess…?”
“Sounds good,” Rin replied, meeting Ty’s eyes for a few seconds before looking elsewhere. No, he wasn’t going to mention anything if Ty wasn’t. He… he didn’t want to think about it.
Not now.
Swamp
The creature that stepped forward was more humanoid in appearance- worn clothes, pale face. He seemed a bit timid, and Reqti relaxed - mostly. All the same, appearances could be deceiving, but as long as the creature wasn’t aggressive, he wouldn’t act in a way that would cause unnecessary conflict.
As the… male? Creature spoke, Reqti turned to Sands, eyeing him in a way that seemed to reveal his thoughts on the matter. Reqti personally believed that this creature didn’t mean any harm, and that he? Was possibly the way out of the swamp and into a place where they could get their bearings and make a plan.
He wanted to know what Sands thought. He wanted to know if they could be of one mind in this.
Docks
Vaxur tensed, hand coming up to rest casually on his rifle handle. From the corner of his eye, he could he Commander Wyr’s hands - twitching, still. Anxious. Even the Qetan stopped, a little behind her captor.
Dal looked…
When he saw her for the first time he knew. She was a real soldier. Rough around the edges, but with a heart that still beat. She wasn’t easily scared. Not easily silenced.
Which is why it unnerved him when she just… didn’t. Say anything. At all.
Was there… something overtly strange about this man? Was it the way he casually greeted non-humans, not flinching in the face of advanced weaponry? He might have been a spacer who retired in a planet that knew nothing about the ins and outs of space, after all, but maybe it was unheard of in… this universe…?
Gah, multiple universes. Weird still.
But then he really slung his rifle over his shoulder and home into his hands, pointing the barrel of his weapon at the… half-dead… dude that just appeared out of nowhere and just casually touched Dal’s shoulder like-
“Step. Aside,” Vaxur growled, leveling his rifle on the intruder's head. Commander Wyr stayed silent, but her fingers were half-curled, ready for anything.
City Ruins
The tiny creature seemed not only to be comfortable with the old man, but to like him. Indeed, the creature had known humans for it’s entire, short life. Far from domesticated, but the ones who walked on two legs were not predators of the creature, and sometimes they even had food.
If the old man stooped to reach down and touch the critter, it would stand up a little straighter on it’s hind legs, and sniff his finger inquisitively. It would even give a little lick, just in case.
But the old man did not have food for the creature, so it lost interest and decided to turn to the next possible source - the pale girl who was squatting dead still on her hunkers, watching it with wide, bewildered eyes. Tentatively, it hopped in her direction and, without actually moving, the girl seemed to start in delight. She glanced to the man, just in case, then back to the creature. Slowly, ever so slowly she reached out a hand, loosely holding one finger more extended than the rest.
Positively enchanted by the thing, the girl watched in giddy anticipation as it hopped closer, and closer, until it was at last at the tips of her fingers. She did not move to touch it. The creature leaned forward, sniffing at the tip of her extended index finger, and bit her.
It latched down hard, sharp teeth puncturing twice before sticking and holding there, hissing hatefully. The girl’s expression changed immediately to a mask of horror and agony, and she let out a choking stifled yelp - but by sheer force of will alone she managed not to hurl the critter away as might have been the most common reaction.
The two of them stayed like that for a long moment, the girl unable to contain a barely stfiled whine from the back of her throat. But she didn’t throw the thing off.
Then, at last, she brought up her other hand in an attempt to gently push the thing off. It had already been more interested in hurting her than it had been in protecting itself though, and the movement only caused it to redouble its efforts. With a squeal of rage, the creature launched off her right hand to attack her left. Crying out, the girl tumbled onto her back as the creature jumped from hand to chest to face, and the two became a rolling, flailing mass of blonde hair and coarse fur.
Becoming increasingly distressed, the girl rolled onto her stomach and tried to make a scrabbling crawl to freedom, but the creature merely scampered around so that it was on her back and continued biting and scratching. It moved up to the back of her neck, she swatted at it but it had already done its damage and moved back around and down to her hips. Sh tried several times to get to her feet, each time simply tripping or stumbling, swatting desperately at her attacker to no avail. She almost got away at one point having somehow shaken it off onto the grassy city floor in the process of getting up for the fourth or fifth time, only to run straight into a wall while distracted by keeping a frightened eye on the critter from behind. Unabashed, the creature leaped for her again and the battle continued.
Though it was not a battle at all, but an assault. Even if the old man did try to help he would find the pair moving out of his reach faster than his elderly gait could keep up with - however they never did move too far away.
At last, by a sheer break of luck, the critter latched on to one of her fingerless gloves. It slid off her hand and onto the grass, taking the critter with it. She didn’t hesitate, not even looking back as she stumbled, then disappeared again just as she had done on the Operations Deck of the Kingsbane, what seemed like months ago.
It would take a moment to locate her hiding place. From above, the girl peered timidly over the sill of a second story window, hat askew, looking about frantically to find the creature, which had since fled into the tall grass. When she couldn’t find it, she looked wide-eyed to the old man instead, asking something silently but not even sure herself as to what it was. The discarded glove lay atop the shorter grass, looking out of place.
Gormaand - Tullh
Val halted, keenly observing as Caru broke off from the little group, seeming to be drawn down the alley by some unseen impulse. She glanced back to the Captain and his wife, who proceed without hesitation, either oblivious or, more likely, indifferent to the pink-haired guy’s sudden departure. Almost on impulse, she chose to follow him, and was joined by Yascra a moment later.
The pair stepped up behind Caru just in time to be noticed and approached by the woman with the curious weapons and curiouser attire, and her cowboy-snake companion. For her part, Val went to the pink-haired guy’s side, and stood impassively, eyes occasionally flicking between the woman and the snake. She did not look particularly threatening, with her relatively small stature and flowy blue shirt, hands clasped casually, loosely behind her back. It was only her indifference, coated with a thin veneer of wary caution and observation of her surroundings that gave her any real presence at all.
She said nothing.
Val rarely spoke to anyone now, and then only when necessary - though it could be inferred that she regularly communicated with the Captain silently via BrainPal™. She was cold and detached, though rarely gave off the impression of being in a bad mood. In many ways she had become like Aelyn-Paeryc and Alexia - though more visibly alert on a near constant basis. And, of course, corporeal.
The Val that stood now next to the diminutive Caru was the same as the mad, confused girl that had been numbly following Volo around in appearance alone. Whatever had happened to her in the days that followed the introduction of Caru and reunion with Harkahn had changed her. No more babbling about invisible birds and hallucinations now. She had even come around to the Captain’s side, having originally refused to aid him in his quest, even to the point of storming out of the man’s office. Now she was as dedicated as any soldier should be - and at no point had the Captain or anyone else so much as commented idly on the sudden change.
While Val stood beside Caru, watched the strangers with casual, guarded interest, and looked generally as though calculating the risks and potential combat strategies of every situation was simply a part of her natural thought process, Yascra was not so subtle. He shouldered passed the pink-haired prettyboy to stand in front of, and partially to the side of him in a way that, had he not been making it abundantly clear since the start that he utterly despised the Lord of Compassion, would have looked almost protective.
He, too eyed both of the strange characters before them, but with a leering, suspicious and openly hostile glare.
Between him and the one who presently introduced himself as ’Fernandez’, two very different types of garden variety reptile were represented. Though Gaelan Yascra was indeed a mundane human - albeit with some handy cybernetics - he pushed the limits of human anthropomorphism. In his own way, he looked just as almost-but-not-really-but-possibly intimidating as Val, for the opposite reasons. Between the sleek black biker jacket, the pale complexion, the various gold piercings, he shiny bald head and the creepy little black mustache, he was the closest thing a human could be to serpentine.
Though, where the giant ebon-scaled Fernandez represented a mighty creature that rules the deserts, Yascra was more akin to some kind of insidious, albino cave-dwelling thing.
Weirdly, there was a black umbrella hoisted over his shoulder on a strap, hanging about his back and looking somewhat heavier than it probably should have. He hefted it unconsciously as he addressed the strangers - one of whom was apparently yet another Lord, and that meant he already hated her.
”Whadd’ya want.” He demanded gruffly, addressing both of them, but mostly the woman.
At least it did not appear that either of them was planning on attacking, sketchy as they both looked in their own unique ways. Stil, Val remained silent, observant, and cautious.
LoneWorld
Farming Village
Ty’s gaze lingered steadily on Rin for a beat after the Nyran had averted his eyes. Yes, he decided, there was definitely something to talk about - but Rin had his reasons for avoiding the subject, so it could wait. Dropping it for the moment, the human hi’tzen smiled. ”Looks good. I think we’ll fit right in...If there’s anyone to fit in with.”
Quietly as they hd entered, the pair exited through the same window and gingerly closed the shutters behind them. It seemed unlikely that anyone would notice that the storehouse had ever been breached to begin with.
Momentarily, he looked up toward the sun, shielding hs almond shaped eyes. It was a bright, happy yellow sun. A beautiful day, with a mid-spring feel to the air They had been up there, not so long ago. Suspecting now that they might be trapped on this world made it seem dreamlike. The others…
Dropping that too, Ty made his way around the side of the storehouse and the pair found themselves on a rough dirt path leading to it and several other quaint little building, all with their shutters closed up tight. Walking down that path took them to the main road, made of hard-packed dirt that seemed sturdy. Standing in the middle of the road - it was fairly wide - Ty looked around.
”Should...should I call out for someone…?” He asked uncertainty. The whole business had him off-balance, not on top of his game. He wanted very much to appear in control
of the situation, but had the uncomfortable feeling that he was not pulling that off very well.
He decided not to call out though, opting instead to walk in the direction of the tavern and general store, which seemed to be about the center of the little town.
He leaned curiously over the stand of vegetables, and poked one speculatively. Sure enough, they were real, and fresh at that. He looked to the tools and dry goods, which wafted the comforting scent of dried herbs and mild tobacco on the gentle breeze. He padded over to the tavern, and was just stooping to try and peer through one of the shuttered windows when-
”D-don’t move-!!” A girl’s voice cried out from further up the road. It was immediately accompanied by the woody THWACK!! of an arrow as it struck the tavern wall several feet above Ty’s head. He whirled and ducked to take cover behind a couple of barrels that were stacked outside the door, looking in the direction the voice had come from just in time to see a young woman who had fallen on her face into the road and was presently scrabbling to her feet in a desperate grasp at dignity. A bow of some kind was clutched in one hand and a sheath of arrows had spilled mostly out into the road about her. As she scrambled to her feet, she fumbled for one of them, found it, and notched a second shot with a speed and grace that was not at all reflected in every other movement she had yet made.
”S-sorry-!...I mean, t-that was a warning shot aye!” She called as she did this, sputtering and sounding not at all confident with her statement. "Ye’best not take another step y’fine? I’ll ‘ave th’next one strike true so’a’will!” She did not particularly give the impression of actually intending on shooting either of them as she stepped carefully forward, stumbling just a little over her own feet again but managing to stay upright this time. It wasn’t doing anything good for her intimidation factor, though. That she managed to keep the bow relatively steady implied that she might still be a good shot, if otherwise awkward.
The girl looked about the same age as Rin did, but was tall for her age. Long, dirty-blonde hair fell behind her and blew gently in the cool, mid-spring breeze. Her skin sun tanned and freckled, wide brown eyes, and clad in an apparently period-correct outfit which included a white tunic and brown leather riding skirt, under which were a pair of canvas-like pants that were almost denim but not quite, and a pair of light suede boots that were not cowboy boots, but would not have looked out of place in the ‘old west’.
As Ty watched the girl approach, a hunk of wood and plaster displaced by the arrow fell on his head, hitting with a clonk and dazing him momentarily. The girl winced visibly.
”Now, y-ye’tell I what ye’want with us starlanders! W-we ain’t rollin’ o’r no more, no sah!”
With a little shake of the head that made the girl dart the bow back to him, Ty came back to himself.
He had really not been handling things as well as he would have liked. The whole ordeal had him off-kilter. Was he going to screw this up too?
Chewing on his lip for a moment, he decided to go for it and glanced meaningfully from Rin to the girl, seeming to imply ’she might listen better to you.’ He was not sure why he thought this, save for perhaps the fact that they looked about the same age, and he himself was several years older. Slowly, carefully and making eye contact with the girl holding them both intermittently in her sights, Ty raised his hands.
As for what Rin was going to do - talk? Freeze up? Attack? Admittedly, in retrospect, maybe it had been not a great idea to pawn the situation off on him - but it was too late now.
Hag’s Swamp
”I believe you are speaking to the ’terrifying deer-thing,'” Retqi said, and immediately Sands looked as if he had just punched an important old lady in the face without looking. He turned a shade of red that was visible even by the ruddy, flickering light of the campfire and combined glow of the stars, then shook his head slightly, composing himself.
A second later he was looking exasperated, with a wide grin on his wide face. ”Well dammit man, go skulking around in the shadows like that and you’re gonna’ give folks a scare!” He called, not angrily, spreading his arms slightly then letting them flop back to his sides.
Yes, he decided, this was definitely a barbrock, given the way the guy in the bushes was talking - and frankly, Sands was rather delighted by the fact. The slight shift in his choice of words sounded nothing but natural, thanks to all those fantasy novels he used to read back on Earth IV. He was painfully aware of how much he, in particular, stood out due to his clothing. Where the outfits of his companions were eclectic enough to not look excessively modern, his own arctic-camo fatigues and ice-blue T shirt did. Nothing to be done about it though, so he tried not to dwell on it and resolved to find himself some more ‘period-correct’ duds at the first opportunity.
The grin grew warmer and his frustration at having been made to look like an ass melted away then, and he beckoned with a sweeping motion of one arm for the stranger to come closer, sitting down to face the fire in the process.
”Well, don’t just stand there, come join us!” He said companionably, and would then take on a more casual, conversational tone, whether or not the newcomer actually came closer. ”We’re from very far away, as you can probably tell, and we’re pretty lost so it’s got us kind of jumping at shadows. Shipwrecked, y’see.” It wasn’t technically a lie. ”Any help you could lend us would be greatly appreciated, though to be honest I’m not sure we’d be able to compensate you for your trouble.”
It had been his dunderheaded mistake to assume the nature of the native life here. He should have known by now that any given creature might not be a wild threat to bond over with other sentient life, but the sentient life itself! Even though the way this guy - this shapeshifter, he assumed, though he had been deliberately vague in acknowledging this, made him suspect that this fellow was somehow different from others.
Now, at least, he sounded as friendly as could be, having adjusted quickly and naturally to the situation. He was usually good at that sort of thing, and had a tendency to come off as someone who could be trusted… Though that would not necessarily apply to every encounter, did it?
Motukka Monshuuk - Docks
When Dal finally did speak, it became apparent that her astounded silence had not been out of fear of the old man. Horror and incredulity perhaps, but not fear. The expression of fury on her face was like the coming breeze of a great storm, and then she exploded. ”Ayo what the @#$% wrong wit’you old man?!” She snapped. This seemed to start the implacable geezer, but only mildly. He looked to her with eyebrows raised, looking bemused. She met his impassive gaze fiercely, taking a half step toward him and throwing one arm out behind her, indicating the city that was now starting to give off a perpetual glow. The heart of the flames still lay deep within the city and out of sight from the docks, and the salt air and seabirds were the most dominant senses - but if the breeze blew just right the ghost of warmth and burning could be just barely felt.
”Do you not see what the @#$% goin’ down over there? Huh? All them folk dyin’ an’ @#$%? Our friend is in there moth’@#$%a an’-” For all she was ready and willing to strike the peasants dead, Dal was still no fan of burning cities and mass slaughter. She and sands had fled their home after losing the short-lived war which had brought Earth City to a ruined husk of battle. And despite having known Kilwen for less than a day he had already solidified in her mind as a member - temporary or otherwise - of the crew. Her crew. It didn’t matter that he was obviously capable of handling far worse than peasant riots - she as already sorely regretting having left him behind.
She was stopped again by the sad, but patient smile that the old man was giving her. He shook his head just a little. The wisdom of the old and ponderous versus the passion of the young and brash. The harsh, urban inflection of her voice was a drastic contrast to the man’s easy, drawn-out pace and reedy voice.
"Now I hahdly figya’ gettin’ all up in a tizzy bout’ it’s gonna’ do much good, aye? T’isn’t like I can put yon’ blaze out all by m’self...” He said knowingly, making Dal turn just a little bit red in the face. The man returned his passive watch to the city. "Sides, they do this ‘bout very twenty yeahs, so the’do. Give a’take some, y’fine. Why this makes the third time I’ve seen it myself.”
When this did not seem to register with the strange folk, he frowned. "I suppose ye’starfolken aren’t from around heah, what with fallin’ from the sky n’ all. Might I should explain, aye?” Nobody objected. He nodded toward the city. "That theah’s Motukka Monshuuk. Soht of a @#$%hole if y’ask most folken, se’true. They got this ‘religion’ y’see that the whole thinkin’ side a’LoneWorld finds pretty absurd. I heah some places up noath got somethin’ similah...Regahdless, every twenty yeahs or so the folken up heah get all worked up inna’ frenzy-like an’ staht killin’ eachothah an’ burnin’ the whole town t’he ground like. Somethin’ always spahks it. Last time t’was a big thundahstorm. S’if ye’feelin’ sour ‘bout it, try not te’, y’fine?” Apparently ‘y’fine’ was the equivalent of ‘get it’?
The old man shrugged. "Folken been a’try’na stop ‘em f’generations, but it simply ain’t what the people want, y’fine. Nothin’ t’be done ‘bout it but watch an’ keep a good distance, no’sah…” It was at that time the old man seemed to become distracted by something behind the group. His brow furrowed.
Dal was just about to say something else when a pair of cold, bony hands clamped firmly down on her shoulders from behind in a way that might have been comforting in entirely different circumstances. Whatever argument or rebuttal she had been about to utter died in her throat as she glanced down and saw them, her dark face growing ash and pale, frozen in place. Of all the strange and disturbing things she had seen since joining up with Cathorine, the living dead was not among them.
"Well I’ll be.” The man said softly, sounding somewhere between mildly surprised and mildly amused. He was looking at the newcomer. "First starfolken fallin’ out the sky in broad daylight, an’ now’s m’own eyes fine we got the undead a-risin up theah graves. I do fine seen it all now, so’a’have.”
That the starfolken and the undead did not appear to be friends implied they had nothing to do with each other. Ignoring the fact that one of the strangers was pointing what looked like a fancy steamer-rifle at the undead cavalier’s head. he continued speaking, sounding amused.
"Well sah if LoneWorld is purgatory then I’m afraid I ain’t yoah’ ride out, dead man.” He said, then massaged his chin thoughtfully as he proceeded, bobbing ever so slightly up and down as his stocky steamboat-thing moved with the gentle sea. "I can’t speak foah’ Hell, no sah, but I suppose this might just be the end of LoneWorld, ‘tween all yon’ uncanny things what happenin’ lately.” He shrugged amiably. If the world was ending, that was fine with him.
He was quiet for a moment, pondering something in the silence. Then with a gesture of finality, he shoved his hands back into his pockets.
"Well I ain’t gonna’ take ye’money dead man for it don’t seem right. But if ye’folken wanna’ lift, I s’pose ye’can hop aboard.” He seemed only vaguely aware of th obvious tension between the blue ‘starfolken’ with the strange gun-thing and the undead man that it was presently aimed at.
"It y’aren’t too busy killin’ eachother, that is. I’d rathah ye’get it done with before comin’ aboahd, y’fine...Oh, name’s Ed Perry by the by.”
Motukka Monshuuk - Castle
It was apparent that whoever was inside that room at the end of the corridor was responsible for the dozen or so bodies strewn about the hallways leading up to it. Too, only this latest one had been struck down by crossbow - the rest appeared dead by blunt force trauma.
But surely Lord Kilwen could handle a primitive human, right? Even if they were strong by their own standards, his were simply higher. Sooner or later, when it became apparent that the person was not going to come into the hallway, he would ender - and what he would see was likely the exact last kind of person he might have expected.
She was the very epitome of ’grandmotherly’.
A little old lady, barely five feet tall and slim, stood rummaging fussily through the drawers of a cabinet on the far end of what appeared to be a moderately sized personal chambers. Her hair was a striking snowy silver,, piled atop her head in a mass of tight curls that was somehow both prim and proper and just a little unkempt. The only strange part was that there appeared to be a tiny, light blue braid dangling from the back of her neck. She wore a conservative, navy blue dress and sensible shoes.
There appeared to be little of value in the room, save for a fluffy crimson cloak and brassy crown sitting haphazardly upon the bed, and a gorgeous, ornately carved walking stick made of dark, gnarled wood that leaned against it. Upon closer inspection, the wood seemed to enclose a rod of black cast iron.
Hearing someone come in, possibly seeing the shadow of someone who was very large in size coming up behind her, the old lady stopped rummaging and gave a little huff.
”Oh I do hope you’re not someone else here to try and kill me in the name of Ova-Motuk.” She said in her little old lady voice with a reproachful tone. ”I really don’t like hurting you people you know-” Without any real urgency, the elderly woman had turned, taking the cane in hand, to face the newcomer. When she saw him however, her reproachful frown first turned to surprise - then her ancient, deeply lined face broke into a bright, delighted smile, as if her favorite grandchild had just come by for a surprise visit. From under the silvery hair, two brilliant, lively golden eyes peered up at Kilwen. A pair of familiar blue markings sat boldly on her homely cheekbones.
”Well by the Lords. She exclaimed in a low, breathy voice, resting her upper weight a little heavier on the cane in her delicate, gnarled hands, still smiling a bright, warm, delighted smile that positively screamed of warm apple pie and good tea with cream and honey. ”If my eyes do not deceive me. Lord Kylvein of Acumen, in the flesh. My, my my, I never thought I would live to see the day.”
The tiny old lady digested the impressive sight of the Lord for a moment, before looking just a bit startled and dithering about. ”Oh I’ve gone and forgotten to introduce myself haven’t I?” She said, brushing off a bit of dust from the front of her dress, then shuffling toward him, extending a withered hand. ”I’m Attalia, Ruling Queen-” She stopped, demurred and shrugged with a playfully rueful smile. ”Well, former Ruling Queen of the Sovereign Citystate of Motukka Monshuuk. But you can call me Grandma Attie if you like, most folks do.”
The tiny creature seemed not only to be comfortable with the old man, but to like him. Indeed, the creature had known humans for it’s entire, short life. Far from domesticated, but the ones who walked on two legs were not predators of the creature, and sometimes they even had food.
If the old man stooped to reach down and touch the critter, it would stand up a little straighter on it’s hind legs, and sniff his finger inquisitively. It would even give a little lick, just in case.
But the old man did not have food for the creature, so it lost interest and decided to turn to the next possible source - the pale girl who was squatting dead still on her hunkers, watching it with wide, bewildered eyes. Tentatively, it hopped in her direction and, without actually moving, the girl seemed to start in delight. She glanced to the man, just in case, then back to the creature. Slowly, ever so slowly she reached out a hand, loosely holding one finger more extended than the rest.
Positively enchanted by the thing, the girl watched in giddy anticipation as it hopped closer, and closer, until it was at last at the tips of her fingers. She did not move to touch it. The creature leaned forward, sniffing at the tip of her extended index finger, and bit her.
It latched down hard, sharp teeth puncturing twice before sticking and holding there, hissing hatefully. The girl’s expression changed immediately to a mask of horror and agony, and she let out a choking stifled yelp - but by sheer force of will alone she managed not to hurl the critter away as might have been the most common reaction.
The two of them stayed like that for a long moment, the girl unable to contain a barely stfiled whine from the back of her throat. But she didn’t throw the thing off.
Then, at last, she brought up her other hand in an attempt to gently push the thing off. It had already been more interested in hurting her than it had been in protecting itself though, and the movement only caused it to redouble its efforts. With a squeal of rage, the creature launched off her right hand to attack her left. Crying out, the girl tumbled onto her back as the creature jumped from hand to chest to face, and the two became a rolling, flailing mass of blonde hair and coarse fur.
Becoming increasingly distressed, the girl rolled onto her stomach and tried to make a scrabbling crawl to freedom, but the creature merely scampered around so that it was on her back and continued biting and scratching. It moved up to the back of her neck, she swatted at it but it had already done its damage and moved back around and down to her hips. Sh tried several times to get to her feet, each time simply tripping or stumbling, swatting desperately at her attacker to no avail. She almost got away at one point having somehow shaken it off onto the grassy city floor in the process of getting up for the fourth or fifth time, only to run straight into a wall while distracted by keeping a frightened eye on the critter from behind. Unabashed, the creature leaped for her again and the battle continued.
Though it was not a battle at all, but an assault. Even if the old man did try to help he would find the pair moving out of his reach faster than his elderly gait could keep up with - however they never did move too far away.
At last, by a sheer break of luck, the critter latched on to one of her fingerless gloves. It slid off her hand and onto the grass, taking the critter with it. She didn’t hesitate, not even looking back as she stumbled, then disappeared again just as she had done on the Operations Deck of the Kingsbane, what seemed like months ago.
It would take a moment to locate her hiding place. From above, the girl peered timidly over the sill of a second story window, hat askew, looking about frantically to find the creature, which had since fled into the tall grass. When she couldn’t find it, she looked wide-eyed to the old man instead, asking something silently but not even sure herself as to what it was. The discarded glove lay atop the shorter grass, looking out of place.
Gormaand - Tullh
Val halted, keenly observing as Caru broke off from the little group, seeming to be drawn down the alley by some unseen impulse. She glanced back to the Captain and his wife, who proceed without hesitation, either oblivious or, more likely, indifferent to the pink-haired guy’s sudden departure. Almost on impulse, she chose to follow him, and was joined by Yascra a moment later.
The pair stepped up behind Caru just in time to be noticed and approached by the woman with the curious weapons and curiouser attire, and her cowboy-snake companion. For her part, Val went to the pink-haired guy’s side, and stood impassively, eyes occasionally flicking between the woman and the snake. She did not look particularly threatening, with her relatively small stature and flowy blue shirt, hands clasped casually, loosely behind her back. It was only her indifference, coated with a thin veneer of wary caution and observation of her surroundings that gave her any real presence at all.
She said nothing.
Val rarely spoke to anyone now, and then only when necessary - though it could be inferred that she regularly communicated with the Captain silently via BrainPal™. She was cold and detached, though rarely gave off the impression of being in a bad mood. In many ways she had become like Aelyn-Paeryc and Alexia - though more visibly alert on a near constant basis. And, of course, corporeal.
The Val that stood now next to the diminutive Caru was the same as the mad, confused girl that had been numbly following Volo around in appearance alone. Whatever had happened to her in the days that followed the introduction of Caru and reunion with Harkahn had changed her. No more babbling about invisible birds and hallucinations now. She had even come around to the Captain’s side, having originally refused to aid him in his quest, even to the point of storming out of the man’s office. Now she was as dedicated as any soldier should be - and at no point had the Captain or anyone else so much as commented idly on the sudden change.
While Val stood beside Caru, watched the strangers with casual, guarded interest, and looked generally as though calculating the risks and potential combat strategies of every situation was simply a part of her natural thought process, Yascra was not so subtle. He shouldered passed the pink-haired prettyboy to stand in front of, and partially to the side of him in a way that, had he not been making it abundantly clear since the start that he utterly despised the Lord of Compassion, would have looked almost protective.
He, too eyed both of the strange characters before them, but with a leering, suspicious and openly hostile glare.
Between him and the one who presently introduced himself as ’Fernandez’, two very different types of garden variety reptile were represented. Though Gaelan Yascra was indeed a mundane human - albeit with some handy cybernetics - he pushed the limits of human anthropomorphism. In his own way, he looked just as almost-but-not-really-but-possibly intimidating as Val, for the opposite reasons. Between the sleek black biker jacket, the pale complexion, the various gold piercings, he shiny bald head and the creepy little black mustache, he was the closest thing a human could be to serpentine.
Though, where the giant ebon-scaled Fernandez represented a mighty creature that rules the deserts, Yascra was more akin to some kind of insidious, albino cave-dwelling thing.
Weirdly, there was a black umbrella hoisted over his shoulder on a strap, hanging about his back and looking somewhat heavier than it probably should have. He hefted it unconsciously as he addressed the strangers - one of whom was apparently yet another Lord, and that meant he already hated her.
”Whadd’ya want.” He demanded gruffly, addressing both of them, but mostly the woman.
At least it did not appear that either of them was planning on attacking, sketchy as they both looked in their own unique ways. Stil, Val remained silent, observant, and cautious.
LoneWorld
Farming Village
Ty’s gaze lingered steadily on Rin for a beat after the Nyran had averted his eyes. Yes, he decided, there was definitely something to talk about - but Rin had his reasons for avoiding the subject, so it could wait. Dropping it for the moment, the human hi’tzen smiled. ”Looks good. I think we’ll fit right in...If there’s anyone to fit in with.”
Quietly as they hd entered, the pair exited through the same window and gingerly closed the shutters behind them. It seemed unlikely that anyone would notice that the storehouse had ever been breached to begin with.
Momentarily, he looked up toward the sun, shielding hs almond shaped eyes. It was a bright, happy yellow sun. A beautiful day, with a mid-spring feel to the air They had been up there, not so long ago. Suspecting now that they might be trapped on this world made it seem dreamlike. The others…
Dropping that too, Ty made his way around the side of the storehouse and the pair found themselves on a rough dirt path leading to it and several other quaint little building, all with their shutters closed up tight. Walking down that path took them to the main road, made of hard-packed dirt that seemed sturdy. Standing in the middle of the road - it was fairly wide - Ty looked around.
”Should...should I call out for someone…?” He asked uncertainty. The whole business had him off-balance, not on top of his game. He wanted very much to appear in control
of the situation, but had the uncomfortable feeling that he was not pulling that off very well.
He decided not to call out though, opting instead to walk in the direction of the tavern and general store, which seemed to be about the center of the little town.
He leaned curiously over the stand of vegetables, and poked one speculatively. Sure enough, they were real, and fresh at that. He looked to the tools and dry goods, which wafted the comforting scent of dried herbs and mild tobacco on the gentle breeze. He padded over to the tavern, and was just stooping to try and peer through one of the shuttered windows when-
”D-don’t move-!!” A girl’s voice cried out from further up the road. It was immediately accompanied by the woody THWACK!! of an arrow as it struck the tavern wall several feet above Ty’s head. He whirled and ducked to take cover behind a couple of barrels that were stacked outside the door, looking in the direction the voice had come from just in time to see a young woman who had fallen on her face into the road and was presently scrabbling to her feet in a desperate grasp at dignity. A bow of some kind was clutched in one hand and a sheath of arrows had spilled mostly out into the road about her. As she scrambled to her feet, she fumbled for one of them, found it, and notched a second shot with a speed and grace that was not at all reflected in every other movement she had yet made.”S-sorry-!...I mean, t-that was a warning shot aye!” She called as she did this, sputtering and sounding not at all confident with her statement. "Ye’best not take another step y’fine? I’ll ‘ave th’next one strike true so’a’will!” She did not particularly give the impression of actually intending on shooting either of them as she stepped carefully forward, stumbling just a little over her own feet again but managing to stay upright this time. It wasn’t doing anything good for her intimidation factor, though. That she managed to keep the bow relatively steady implied that she might still be a good shot, if otherwise awkward.
The girl looked about the same age as Rin did, but was tall for her age. Long, dirty-blonde hair fell behind her and blew gently in the cool, mid-spring breeze. Her skin sun tanned and freckled, wide brown eyes, and clad in an apparently period-correct outfit which included a white tunic and brown leather riding skirt, under which were a pair of canvas-like pants that were almost denim but not quite, and a pair of light suede boots that were not cowboy boots, but would not have looked out of place in the ‘old west’.
As Ty watched the girl approach, a hunk of wood and plaster displaced by the arrow fell on his head, hitting with a clonk and dazing him momentarily. The girl winced visibly.
”Now, y-ye’tell I what ye’want with us starlanders! W-we ain’t rollin’ o’r no more, no sah!”
With a little shake of the head that made the girl dart the bow back to him, Ty came back to himself.
He had really not been handling things as well as he would have liked. The whole ordeal had him off-kilter. Was he going to screw this up too?
Chewing on his lip for a moment, he decided to go for it and glanced meaningfully from Rin to the girl, seeming to imply ’she might listen better to you.’ He was not sure why he thought this, save for perhaps the fact that they looked about the same age, and he himself was several years older. Slowly, carefully and making eye contact with the girl holding them both intermittently in her sights, Ty raised his hands.
As for what Rin was going to do - talk? Freeze up? Attack? Admittedly, in retrospect, maybe it had been not a great idea to pawn the situation off on him - but it was too late now.
Hag’s Swamp
”I believe you are speaking to the ’terrifying deer-thing,'” Retqi said, and immediately Sands looked as if he had just punched an important old lady in the face without looking. He turned a shade of red that was visible even by the ruddy, flickering light of the campfire and combined glow of the stars, then shook his head slightly, composing himself.
A second later he was looking exasperated, with a wide grin on his wide face. ”Well dammit man, go skulking around in the shadows like that and you’re gonna’ give folks a scare!” He called, not angrily, spreading his arms slightly then letting them flop back to his sides.
Yes, he decided, this was definitely a barbrock, given the way the guy in the bushes was talking - and frankly, Sands was rather delighted by the fact. The slight shift in his choice of words sounded nothing but natural, thanks to all those fantasy novels he used to read back on Earth IV. He was painfully aware of how much he, in particular, stood out due to his clothing. Where the outfits of his companions were eclectic enough to not look excessively modern, his own arctic-camo fatigues and ice-blue T shirt did. Nothing to be done about it though, so he tried not to dwell on it and resolved to find himself some more ‘period-correct’ duds at the first opportunity.
The grin grew warmer and his frustration at having been made to look like an ass melted away then, and he beckoned with a sweeping motion of one arm for the stranger to come closer, sitting down to face the fire in the process.
”Well, don’t just stand there, come join us!” He said companionably, and would then take on a more casual, conversational tone, whether or not the newcomer actually came closer. ”We’re from very far away, as you can probably tell, and we’re pretty lost so it’s got us kind of jumping at shadows. Shipwrecked, y’see.” It wasn’t technically a lie. ”Any help you could lend us would be greatly appreciated, though to be honest I’m not sure we’d be able to compensate you for your trouble.”
It had been his dunderheaded mistake to assume the nature of the native life here. He should have known by now that any given creature might not be a wild threat to bond over with other sentient life, but the sentient life itself! Even though the way this guy - this shapeshifter, he assumed, though he had been deliberately vague in acknowledging this, made him suspect that this fellow was somehow different from others.
Now, at least, he sounded as friendly as could be, having adjusted quickly and naturally to the situation. He was usually good at that sort of thing, and had a tendency to come off as someone who could be trusted… Though that would not necessarily apply to every encounter, did it?
Motukka Monshuuk - Docks
When Dal finally did speak, it became apparent that her astounded silence had not been out of fear of the old man. Horror and incredulity perhaps, but not fear. The expression of fury on her face was like the coming breeze of a great storm, and then she exploded. ”Ayo what the @#$% wrong wit’you old man?!” She snapped. This seemed to start the implacable geezer, but only mildly. He looked to her with eyebrows raised, looking bemused. She met his impassive gaze fiercely, taking a half step toward him and throwing one arm out behind her, indicating the city that was now starting to give off a perpetual glow. The heart of the flames still lay deep within the city and out of sight from the docks, and the salt air and seabirds were the most dominant senses - but if the breeze blew just right the ghost of warmth and burning could be just barely felt.
”Do you not see what the @#$% goin’ down over there? Huh? All them folk dyin’ an’ @#$%? Our friend is in there moth’@#$%a an’-” For all she was ready and willing to strike the peasants dead, Dal was still no fan of burning cities and mass slaughter. She and sands had fled their home after losing the short-lived war which had brought Earth City to a ruined husk of battle. And despite having known Kilwen for less than a day he had already solidified in her mind as a member - temporary or otherwise - of the crew. Her crew. It didn’t matter that he was obviously capable of handling far worse than peasant riots - she as already sorely regretting having left him behind.
She was stopped again by the sad, but patient smile that the old man was giving her. He shook his head just a little. The wisdom of the old and ponderous versus the passion of the young and brash. The harsh, urban inflection of her voice was a drastic contrast to the man’s easy, drawn-out pace and reedy voice."Now I hahdly figya’ gettin’ all up in a tizzy bout’ it’s gonna’ do much good, aye? T’isn’t like I can put yon’ blaze out all by m’self...” He said knowingly, making Dal turn just a little bit red in the face. The man returned his passive watch to the city. "Sides, they do this ‘bout very twenty yeahs, so the’do. Give a’take some, y’fine. Why this makes the third time I’ve seen it myself.”
When this did not seem to register with the strange folk, he frowned. "I suppose ye’starfolken aren’t from around heah, what with fallin’ from the sky n’ all. Might I should explain, aye?” Nobody objected. He nodded toward the city. "That theah’s Motukka Monshuuk. Soht of a @#$%hole if y’ask most folken, se’true. They got this ‘religion’ y’see that the whole thinkin’ side a’LoneWorld finds pretty absurd. I heah some places up noath got somethin’ similah...Regahdless, every twenty yeahs or so the folken up heah get all worked up inna’ frenzy-like an’ staht killin’ eachothah an’ burnin’ the whole town t’he ground like. Somethin’ always spahks it. Last time t’was a big thundahstorm. S’if ye’feelin’ sour ‘bout it, try not te’, y’fine?” Apparently ‘y’fine’ was the equivalent of ‘get it’?
The old man shrugged. "Folken been a’try’na stop ‘em f’generations, but it simply ain’t what the people want, y’fine. Nothin’ t’be done ‘bout it but watch an’ keep a good distance, no’sah…” It was at that time the old man seemed to become distracted by something behind the group. His brow furrowed.
Dal was just about to say something else when a pair of cold, bony hands clamped firmly down on her shoulders from behind in a way that might have been comforting in entirely different circumstances. Whatever argument or rebuttal she had been about to utter died in her throat as she glanced down and saw them, her dark face growing ash and pale, frozen in place. Of all the strange and disturbing things she had seen since joining up with Cathorine, the living dead was not among them.
"Well I’ll be.” The man said softly, sounding somewhere between mildly surprised and mildly amused. He was looking at the newcomer. "First starfolken fallin’ out the sky in broad daylight, an’ now’s m’own eyes fine we got the undead a-risin up theah graves. I do fine seen it all now, so’a’have.”
That the starfolken and the undead did not appear to be friends implied they had nothing to do with each other. Ignoring the fact that one of the strangers was pointing what looked like a fancy steamer-rifle at the undead cavalier’s head. he continued speaking, sounding amused.
"Well sah if LoneWorld is purgatory then I’m afraid I ain’t yoah’ ride out, dead man.” He said, then massaged his chin thoughtfully as he proceeded, bobbing ever so slightly up and down as his stocky steamboat-thing moved with the gentle sea. "I can’t speak foah’ Hell, no sah, but I suppose this might just be the end of LoneWorld, ‘tween all yon’ uncanny things what happenin’ lately.” He shrugged amiably. If the world was ending, that was fine with him.
He was quiet for a moment, pondering something in the silence. Then with a gesture of finality, he shoved his hands back into his pockets.
"Well I ain’t gonna’ take ye’money dead man for it don’t seem right. But if ye’folken wanna’ lift, I s’pose ye’can hop aboard.” He seemed only vaguely aware of th obvious tension between the blue ‘starfolken’ with the strange gun-thing and the undead man that it was presently aimed at.
"It y’aren’t too busy killin’ eachother, that is. I’d rathah ye’get it done with before comin’ aboahd, y’fine...Oh, name’s Ed Perry by the by.”
Motukka Monshuuk - Castle
It was apparent that whoever was inside that room at the end of the corridor was responsible for the dozen or so bodies strewn about the hallways leading up to it. Too, only this latest one had been struck down by crossbow - the rest appeared dead by blunt force trauma.
But surely Lord Kilwen could handle a primitive human, right? Even if they were strong by their own standards, his were simply higher. Sooner or later, when it became apparent that the person was not going to come into the hallway, he would ender - and what he would see was likely the exact last kind of person he might have expected.
She was the very epitome of ’grandmotherly’.
A little old lady, barely five feet tall and slim, stood rummaging fussily through the drawers of a cabinet on the far end of what appeared to be a moderately sized personal chambers. Her hair was a striking snowy silver,, piled atop her head in a mass of tight curls that was somehow both prim and proper and just a little unkempt. The only strange part was that there appeared to be a tiny, light blue braid dangling from the back of her neck. She wore a conservative, navy blue dress and sensible shoes.
There appeared to be little of value in the room, save for a fluffy crimson cloak and brassy crown sitting haphazardly upon the bed, and a gorgeous, ornately carved walking stick made of dark, gnarled wood that leaned against it. Upon closer inspection, the wood seemed to enclose a rod of black cast iron.
Hearing someone come in, possibly seeing the shadow of someone who was very large in size coming up behind her, the old lady stopped rummaging and gave a little huff.
”Oh I do hope you’re not someone else here to try and kill me in the name of Ova-Motuk.” She said in her little old lady voice with a reproachful tone. ”I really don’t like hurting you people you know-” Without any real urgency, the elderly woman had turned, taking the cane in hand, to face the newcomer. When she saw him however, her reproachful frown first turned to surprise - then her ancient, deeply lined face broke into a bright, delighted smile, as if her favorite grandchild had just come by for a surprise visit. From under the silvery hair, two brilliant, lively golden eyes peered up at Kilwen. A pair of familiar blue markings sat boldly on her homely cheekbones.
”Well by the Lords. She exclaimed in a low, breathy voice, resting her upper weight a little heavier on the cane in her delicate, gnarled hands, still smiling a bright, warm, delighted smile that positively screamed of warm apple pie and good tea with cream and honey. ”If my eyes do not deceive me. Lord Kylvein of Acumen, in the flesh. My, my my, I never thought I would live to see the day.”
The tiny old lady digested the impressive sight of the Lord for a moment, before looking just a bit startled and dithering about. ”Oh I’ve gone and forgotten to introduce myself haven’t I?” She said, brushing off a bit of dust from the front of her dress, then shuffling toward him, extending a withered hand. ”I’m Attalia, Ruling Queen-” She stopped, demurred and shrugged with a playfully rueful smile. ”Well, former Ruling Queen of the Sovereign Citystate of Motukka Monshuuk. But you can call me Grandma Attie if you like, most folks do.”
Castle Motukka
As Kilwen entered the dark dingy castle, he kept his guard up as he walked the dimly lit halls. He was sorta expecting an ambush of some kind, however from the dead bodies it didn't seem that way. As he continued his way through, his mind raced in what had happen, from the crash and to what the peasants were calling out and doing. It seemed odd, vaguely familiar. As he continues he saw a group of dead men with bolts within them. He saw movement, he tensed up and places a hand on his hilt of his blade to judge whoever was hostile or not. However as she came into better view, it was only...an old woman.
Kilwen relaxed a little seeing, yet it was clear she was able to handle herself. She said that name again which caught his attention "Ova-Motuk". For him it sounds like someone knows about Lord Ova, but has muttled her teachings. For Kilwen the actions that the peasants have taken seem more like her mother's rambling teachings, Lord Morgan when she was lord of the Undead. "Lord Kylvien?" he asks as he looks at her with a raised eyebrow. "I'm sorry your Majesty for my rudeness, my name is Lord Kilwen. Can I ask what is happening and why are your...former subjects acting in such a manner?" he asks as he gives her a bow. "Is there anywhere safe you can go, Grandma Attie?" he adds as looks around cautious if anyone else would show up.
As Kilwen entered the dark dingy castle, he kept his guard up as he walked the dimly lit halls. He was sorta expecting an ambush of some kind, however from the dead bodies it didn't seem that way. As he continued his way through, his mind raced in what had happen, from the crash and to what the peasants were calling out and doing. It seemed odd, vaguely familiar. As he continues he saw a group of dead men with bolts within them. He saw movement, he tensed up and places a hand on his hilt of his blade to judge whoever was hostile or not. However as she came into better view, it was only...an old woman.
Kilwen relaxed a little seeing, yet it was clear she was able to handle herself. She said that name again which caught his attention "Ova-Motuk". For him it sounds like someone knows about Lord Ova, but has muttled her teachings. For Kilwen the actions that the peasants have taken seem more like her mother's rambling teachings, Lord Morgan when she was lord of the Undead. "Lord Kylvien?" he asks as he looks at her with a raised eyebrow. "I'm sorry your Majesty for my rudeness, my name is Lord Kilwen. Can I ask what is happening and why are your...former subjects acting in such a manner?" he asks as he gives her a bow. "Is there anywhere safe you can go, Grandma Attie?" he adds as looks around cautious if anyone else would show up.
Sickly sunlight seeped through an overcast sky that gently wept the last, fleeting remnants of the storm that had dragged on all through the night. A cold, early autmn rain, and in the latter dawn air it seemed to hang as a fine mist. Vast fields of tall oche lemongrass sagged under the weight of the water that nourished the blades. The morning’s silence, broken only by a stray big-truck as it wailed down the stretch of highway up the hill, red brake lights lighting up the mist around it’s rear as the lonesome vehicle began to slow, approaching its final destination in the industrial park that sat squatly on the horizon.
The little boy watched it go, big ears perked at the sound of it, which was not so intrusive on the peace of the morning as it could have been. He wondered briefly what the driver’s life was like. Who were they? What was their story? He hoped it was a nice story. Wide, ocean-blue eyes followed the bulky trailer as it disappeared beneath the ridge of the hill past the lemongrass, and flicked to the place further and lower still where long experience told him it would reemerge.
Tail dragging along behind him through the soft earth, he began pushing his way through the tall, yellowish grass, the top of which his eyes only barely peeked over. Moisture wicked off on him and his old pants grew damp quickly, though he did not mind. His sneakers, old and battered hand-me-downs from generations of other kids before him, were caked with mud by the time he reached the edge of the road. Furtively he glanced back toward the little building from which he had just come, looking bland and old, sagging with a comfortable familiarity that made it seem safe and nice despite everything. He wasn’t supposed to go this close to the road, especially without supervision - but everyone was asleep, and when they weren’t they were all so busy. He was sure if he insisted someone would come out - one of the older kids, if nobody else - but there was no sense in bothering them. And besides, at the crest of the hill he could see for a mile or more in either direction, and traffic was so light anyway…
Satisfied with his observation, the little boy made his way to the edge of the road, looking across the wide, black asphalt surface that glistened like obsidian gemstones, a river of blackness divided by a yellow line, and white ones that marked the edges. All across the wide plane, pinkish worms and nightcrawlers writhed in the wetness, washed out from the dirt on the edges of the black tar river and splayed out through the road. The little boy looked up to the overcast sky, behind which a sun hid that would later reveal itself in force, and cook all the stranded creepers and crawlers until they were gnarled, black and shriveled.
Stalwartly, the little boy began to pick the slimy things up, one by one, making sure not to miss a single one as he went along. When his hands became too full, he walked back to the edge of the road and kicked a little indent into the moist soil, depositing the writhing mass of fleshy pink tendrils into it, and kicking more soil over them. Then he returned to the road, bent at the waist, scanning and plucking, gathering, kicking, burying, and repeating. He did not seem to particularly enjoy the task, taking no apparent pleasure in it. The texture of the wretched creatures actually seemed to unnerve him slightly - yet he persisted. When his sensitive ears picked up the sound of a distant approaching truck, he stepped to the side of the road and let it go screaming past him, waving at the driver and closing his eyes tight against the backdraft of mist and cold air that it left in its wake. The driver usually waved back with a smile.
Morning drifted into mid-morning, and he continued his lonesome task, not bothering to count the number of worms, though noting absently that two trucks had passed, which was about average.
He heard and smelled the girl before she saw him. He knew who it was by the scent. One of the older girls, probably almost a teenager, with long, dark hair and the ears and tail of some creature he was unfamiliar with. She had been sneaking out and smoking pilfered cigarettes for a while now, and she smelled like them so that everyone knew what she was doing, though where she was snagging from was a mystery. The old folks weren’t even particularly opposed to her smoking, but sneaking out gave her a little thrill of rebellion that wasn’t so damaging as outright running off or otherwise screwing around. She was the kind of girl that was probably going to turn to harder drugs in the next few years, and catch a ride with one of the more unsavory truckers that passed through the town at the bottom of the hill. It was a common occurrence.
But as it was, she was only on the verge of those dangerous years, and content with sitting out by the road and smoking and brooding alone. The boy paid no attention to her as she stepped out from the grass some yards down the road, leaning on a hip as she struck a match against the seat of her jeans and lit the half-smoked cigarette before shaking the flame out just like she’d learned. He was vaguely aware of her idly watching him as she savored the tobacco and toxins.
As he kicked dirt over another little hole and returned to the street to scan for more, she spoke up after several minutes of silence. “What are you doing?” She said, sounding judgmental and a little disdainful, finding the worms to be rather revolting. She didn’t hate the kid, and she vaguely regretted the harshness of her tone - the question was at least halfway legitimate.
”They’re gonna’ die.” The little boy said simply, without skipping a beat, as he picked up another squirming pink noodle and dropped it into a cupped hand.
The older girl raised an eyebrow, scowling. “Huh?”
The boy stood up straight, and held the cupped hand toward her, displaying the two writhing worms that flecked their heads back and forth in protest. ”They’re gonna’ die. If nobody helps them.” He said again. The girl leaned away from his hand slightly, scowling down at the pink things.
“Why?"
”When the sun comes out later-” The boy began, but she interrupted him impatiently. “No, I mean why does that matter? They’re worms.” The boy gave an innocent, honest shrug, ears twitching. ”I’unno. I guess it doesn’t.” He said placidly, returning to his task. ”But...It does matter to this one.” He held up another worm between two fingers. It was tiny, and flailed wildly.
A silence passed over them as he proceeded, and it was a long time before she spoke again. “You’re never gonna’ get all of ‘em.” She said, sucking in the last bit of smoke from the yellowish butt of her cigarette, before plucking another, fresh one out of her pocket and lighting it with another match. ”I know.” He said amiably.
The girl took a long drag off her stick, and exhaled, watching the smoke drift into the wind over the highway. “So why then? Who go looking for each one? Seems like a waste of time to me.”
It took a long moment for the boy to respond, and the girl was starting to wonder if she was being ignored by the time he did speak again. ”It must be pretty scary.” He mused, not looking at her. ”Getting lost like that. Getting washed out of their world. Getting lost. And knowing that nobody’s coming to look for you.”
The girl blinked, frowning introspectively at the ground as she held the cancer-stick between two fingers out at her side, and brought it in for a slow, thoughtful drag. ”They just disappear all of a sudden, and nobody even asks where they went. And they just die and nobody cares.” He went on, his voice solemn, but frank and not particularly emotional. He did not stop his systematic work. He did not sound the least bit bitter or resentful, or even depressed.
Some seconds later, the girl glanced down to her feet, where a worm wriggled helplessly in the wetness there. She imagined what it would look like in a few hours, after being baked by the cruel sun, which gave life to the soil in which they live, and cooked them alive should they bask in its radiance. To rip them away from their home and cast them into certain death - and if she, seeing the creature, did not lift her finger to save it - was sh responsible for its death? She wasn’t sure. She wasn’t sure she cared, either.
Nevertheless, after a long deliberation and with a hateful scowl, the girl crouched down and picked up the worm, tossing it into the grass and the moist earth below. From her new vantage point she could see another within reach - she rolled her eyes, sucked on her cigarette, and tossed it into the grass.
“...It’s the same with us, isn’t it.” She said some minutes and several worms later. It was not a question. The boy did not reply, though his ears twitched. “We’re gonna’ get ripped outta’ our home here and thrown into the sun, and nobody’s gonna’ come lookin’ for us.”
”Yup.” The boy replied, placidly.
By noontime, quarter mile strip of highway had been stripped of worms.
By the next day, she was gone.
Nobody looked for her.
The undead solider listened to what the old man was saying with his ridiculous accent. He never really enjoyed being at the american colonies, especially with there damn entitled attitude. However from how this man was speaking, Fredrick wasn't on Earth anymore or at the very least, Earth had become very different. The undead merc took away his tow gold coin and put it either into dark woman's shirt as a way in putting the coins in her cleavage or placed them in her pocket and comments either way into her ear "You may need it more than I" as he then grips both of her shoulders tightly as his attention went back to the old sea captain. "So if this is not purgatory, but I am back from the dead just in time for Armageddon eh? Well when it comes to the apocalypse, sign me up!" he laughs as he heard the last bit about fighting each other and the words coming from the fish demon's mouth.
He let go of the dark African woman and turned around to see a what is clearly a gun of some kind in front of his face. "Fish demon, I pretty sure we are all in the same boat and I'm willing to bet that this will not end well for you if you decide to pull the trigger. I have been in this situation plenty of times and gotten myself out of it" he says to him as he looks at the fish man with his living yet cold dead red eyes. "But let me give you a peace offering though if that would make you feel better" he says as he pats all over himself and placing his hands into his various pockets. In one of the pockets he pulls out a fresh stick of sugar cane. His eyes widen and holds it out towards the over size bug person. "This one is for you, bug demon. Its called a sugar cane and I know how insects like sugar. Nibble on it and you will like it" as the other hand went around and soon put his hand down his exposed chest cavity and felt something else. He pulls out a an advance flintlock and says "Ah I wondered were this was" as he puts that into a holster on its own as he went back to digging into his own chest cavity till he pulled out a really shiny large sapphire. He holds it at the fish demon man and says "I offer you the fanciest of Venician craftsmanship. An elegant sapphire for you to enjoy" he holds it out for him.
"Or we can do this the old fashion way and do ten paces and fire at each other. Either way, I'm getting on that boat, because I don't want to sit on the beach for god knows how long" he adds as he continues to eyeball him and his bug friend seeing how they would react.
He let go of the dark African woman and turned around to see a what is clearly a gun of some kind in front of his face. "Fish demon, I pretty sure we are all in the same boat and I'm willing to bet that this will not end well for you if you decide to pull the trigger. I have been in this situation plenty of times and gotten myself out of it" he says to him as he looks at the fish man with his living yet cold dead red eyes. "But let me give you a peace offering though if that would make you feel better" he says as he pats all over himself and placing his hands into his various pockets. In one of the pockets he pulls out a fresh stick of sugar cane. His eyes widen and holds it out towards the over size bug person. "This one is for you, bug demon. Its called a sugar cane and I know how insects like sugar. Nibble on it and you will like it" as the other hand went around and soon put his hand down his exposed chest cavity and felt something else. He pulls out a an advance flintlock and says "Ah I wondered were this was" as he puts that into a holster on its own as he went back to digging into his own chest cavity till he pulled out a really shiny large sapphire. He holds it at the fish demon man and says "I offer you the fanciest of Venician craftsmanship. An elegant sapphire for you to enjoy" he holds it out for him.
"Or we can do this the old fashion way and do ten paces and fire at each other. Either way, I'm getting on that boat, because I don't want to sit on the beach for god knows how long" he adds as he continues to eyeball him and his bug friend seeing how they would react.
Lone World North
To the North and East from Northvale lay a city. A city currently being besieged from a united Kingdom from the North. Over the great hill of the city of Nazzerick, a large cross being pushed forward as two large fireballs coming hurling over from the hill onto the city's walls, destroying them. Behind this large cross that was being pushed up was an army of knights and armored sergeants with there shields painted a red cross on them as they marched forward. This was the army of Boy-King Baldwin of the Kingdom of Solomon. Inspired by the ancient book known as the Holy Bible and fascinated by God's and son's teachings, he knew what he must do to this Heathen and Heretical land. He knew he must bring this planet under God's control, for he Baldwin had grand plans. Plans in uniting the planet so him and his knew found subjects can find the fabled Holy City of Jerusalem in the mythical planet called Earth. His closest adviser Cornelius, a kind man told him about life among the stars which made Baldwin inspired and full of zeal to try to make it towards the stars and become closer to God in the process and be in His favor when he finds the ancient city and claim under Christendom.
As the army marched, they yelled as they charged towards the breaches that were made by the trebuchets. Behind the Knights, men at arms and armored sergeants, came the crossbowmen and bowmen raining arrows down upon the defenders. This siege is also Baldwin's first usage of gun based weapons. A regiment of troops rushed forward holding primitive hand cannons and began to fire into crowds of the defenders, causing there armor to be useless against these guns. Baldwin knew that he needed to be relatively accepting to new technology or be faced with total annihilation. He intended to master these new weapons and create even better ones. As the attackers pushed forward a loud war horn was blown as Knights on horse back began to ride over and down the hill and charging straight into enemy lines with their lances. As they smack head on, they send some of the defenders flying into the air while others are impaled upon the lances. It wouldn't be long till the army of Christendom soon took over city and destroyed anything that would represent the heretic religion that these heathens believed.
As the city of Nazzerick lay conquered and the word of Christ being spread, another smaller and much faster force went further south...only mere hours away from the burning city of Monshuuk intending to teach the populace and its ridiculous nature not to smear its decadence all over the land with its abhorred believes that spit in the eyes of God! The city will be burned even more and its populace exterminated in the name of God and his Son
To the North and East from Northvale lay a city. A city currently being besieged from a united Kingdom from the North. Over the great hill of the city of Nazzerick, a large cross being pushed forward as two large fireballs coming hurling over from the hill onto the city's walls, destroying them. Behind this large cross that was being pushed up was an army of knights and armored sergeants with there shields painted a red cross on them as they marched forward. This was the army of Boy-King Baldwin of the Kingdom of Solomon. Inspired by the ancient book known as the Holy Bible and fascinated by God's and son's teachings, he knew what he must do to this Heathen and Heretical land. He knew he must bring this planet under God's control, for he Baldwin had grand plans. Plans in uniting the planet so him and his knew found subjects can find the fabled Holy City of Jerusalem in the mythical planet called Earth. His closest adviser Cornelius, a kind man told him about life among the stars which made Baldwin inspired and full of zeal to try to make it towards the stars and become closer to God in the process and be in His favor when he finds the ancient city and claim under Christendom.
As the army marched, they yelled as they charged towards the breaches that were made by the trebuchets. Behind the Knights, men at arms and armored sergeants, came the crossbowmen and bowmen raining arrows down upon the defenders. This siege is also Baldwin's first usage of gun based weapons. A regiment of troops rushed forward holding primitive hand cannons and began to fire into crowds of the defenders, causing there armor to be useless against these guns. Baldwin knew that he needed to be relatively accepting to new technology or be faced with total annihilation. He intended to master these new weapons and create even better ones. As the attackers pushed forward a loud war horn was blown as Knights on horse back began to ride over and down the hill and charging straight into enemy lines with their lances. As they smack head on, they send some of the defenders flying into the air while others are impaled upon the lances. It wouldn't be long till the army of Christendom soon took over city and destroyed anything that would represent the heretic religion that these heathens believed.
As the city of Nazzerick lay conquered and the word of Christ being spread, another smaller and much faster force went further south...only mere hours away from the burning city of Monshuuk intending to teach the populace and its ridiculous nature not to smear its decadence all over the land with its abhorred believes that spit in the eyes of God! The city will be burned even more and its populace exterminated in the name of God and his Son
LoneWorld
Castle Motukka
”Oooh, Kilwen, is it?” The old lady exclaimed, making her mouth into an enthusiastic O in that way that expressive old ladies tended to do. Then she nodded with a mirthful little chuckle, leaning on the ornate cane with both withered hands folded over the curved handle. ”Yes, I do suppose things like that could have gotten lost in translation over the years.” She acquiesced, as if he knew what the heck she was talking about. Then, sounding more as though she were talking to herself than Kilwen, she went on muttering ”Oh yes, and the old stories did say you would be a little confused when you arrived, so I suppose I should fill you in. At least, a little bit.” Attie flashed a mischievous smile up at the huge, imposing Dimensional Lord, then tottered over to a chair in the corner and sat down on it.
”Oh and don’t you worry about ol’ Grandma Attie, dear. This was a lucky shot, that’s all. I can take care of myself, se’true.” She gestured with one hand vaguely in the direction of the little blood clot on one temple, where the rock that had been thrown in the throne room had struck ”Now, where was I- oh yes. Well, you see, the people of Motukka Monshuuk fervently worship Ova-Motuk, Lady of Desolation. Some translate it as Ova-Mo-gan, though I haven’t heard that version in years… They’re a sort of…Backwards people, you see.” She said the last part almost apologetically, in a vaguely conspiratorial tone. ”And like any good followers of the Ways of the Lords, they take their patron’s nature very seriously. The only problem is that unlike the nice folks in Steam City or Midway - Oh they will be happy to see you ~ their nature is that of destruction, death, chaos and all that unpleasantness. So instead of making new advancements in technology, or building diplomatic empires, or even reveling in vice like the folks in Hag’s Shore - they just...Well, they just destroy things and kill each other.”
The way she relayed this horrifying story about doctrine-fanatics brutally murdering each other - with a slight air of disappointment and admission, but mostly casual - was either interesting or disturbing.
”It happens every twenty years or so. Something sets them off and they just go crazy and burn the whole city down. Last time if I remember correctly it was a thunderstorm. This time I suppose it was you falling from the sky. One thing or another~” Attie shrugged blissfully, then opened one eye to peer at him. ”That was you I assume? Yes of course it was.”
The old lady did not seem quite done yet, once more leaning on her cane from where she sat in the chair, suddenly sighing and sagging against it some. ”And this time well, I hope you won’t think ill of me Kylvein. Kilwen, I mean- I’m afraid I’m just too tired to go rebuilding the whole city again, just so they can burn it all down twenty years from now.” She admitted. ”That, and with this crazy ’Jesus-Man’ or whatever he is coming down from the north, laying waste to every city he passes through...Well, I think he won't have much left to tear down or kill once he gets here. The Motukkan folk won't surrender either, so…” Attie gave a ’What can ya do?’ shrug, still smiling faintly. She wasn't particularly disturbed at the fact that every last one of her former subjects was about to be wiped off the face of LoneWorld forever. In reality, this was because she rather hated them all, as impossible as it seemed for the sweet little old lady to hate anything .
Attie spent a moment in contemplative silence, then got back to her feet, tapping the cane twice on the old, rough wooden floor as she did so.
”Well. I suppose we’d best be getting on our way then. No use just sitting about waiting for LoneWorld to end without us, hmm?” She said, shuffling back to the bed where a simple leather shoulder bag rested. She shrugged it over her shoulders, flicked the strap with her thumb, then appeared quite ready to go. ”Do you have friends with you, Kilwen? I fine you might like to get back to them.” Then, frowning some and eyeing the ceiling suspiciously, she added in an almost playful manner ”I’m...not sure how much longer this old castle is going to stay standing.” Almost as if on cue, there was a distant, deep thumbp sound from somewhere within the bowels of Castle Motukka, and the floor vibrated slightly in time. Attie did not seem particularly concerned about this, however. ”Lead the way, Kilwen. I might look like a shuffler but Ol’ Attie can keep up with the quickest of us, se’true.”
Castle Motukka
”Oooh, Kilwen, is it?” The old lady exclaimed, making her mouth into an enthusiastic O in that way that expressive old ladies tended to do. Then she nodded with a mirthful little chuckle, leaning on the ornate cane with both withered hands folded over the curved handle. ”Yes, I do suppose things like that could have gotten lost in translation over the years.” She acquiesced, as if he knew what the heck she was talking about. Then, sounding more as though she were talking to herself than Kilwen, she went on muttering ”Oh yes, and the old stories did say you would be a little confused when you arrived, so I suppose I should fill you in. At least, a little bit.” Attie flashed a mischievous smile up at the huge, imposing Dimensional Lord, then tottered over to a chair in the corner and sat down on it.
”Oh and don’t you worry about ol’ Grandma Attie, dear. This was a lucky shot, that’s all. I can take care of myself, se’true.” She gestured with one hand vaguely in the direction of the little blood clot on one temple, where the rock that had been thrown in the throne room had struck ”Now, where was I- oh yes. Well, you see, the people of Motukka Monshuuk fervently worship Ova-Motuk, Lady of Desolation. Some translate it as Ova-Mo-gan, though I haven’t heard that version in years… They’re a sort of…Backwards people, you see.” She said the last part almost apologetically, in a vaguely conspiratorial tone. ”And like any good followers of the Ways of the Lords, they take their patron’s nature very seriously. The only problem is that unlike the nice folks in Steam City or Midway - Oh they will be happy to see you ~ their nature is that of destruction, death, chaos and all that unpleasantness. So instead of making new advancements in technology, or building diplomatic empires, or even reveling in vice like the folks in Hag’s Shore - they just...Well, they just destroy things and kill each other.”
The way she relayed this horrifying story about doctrine-fanatics brutally murdering each other - with a slight air of disappointment and admission, but mostly casual - was either interesting or disturbing.
”It happens every twenty years or so. Something sets them off and they just go crazy and burn the whole city down. Last time if I remember correctly it was a thunderstorm. This time I suppose it was you falling from the sky. One thing or another~” Attie shrugged blissfully, then opened one eye to peer at him. ”That was you I assume? Yes of course it was.”
The old lady did not seem quite done yet, once more leaning on her cane from where she sat in the chair, suddenly sighing and sagging against it some. ”And this time well, I hope you won’t think ill of me Kylvein. Kilwen, I mean- I’m afraid I’m just too tired to go rebuilding the whole city again, just so they can burn it all down twenty years from now.” She admitted. ”That, and with this crazy ’Jesus-Man’ or whatever he is coming down from the north, laying waste to every city he passes through...Well, I think he won't have much left to tear down or kill once he gets here. The Motukkan folk won't surrender either, so…” Attie gave a ’What can ya do?’ shrug, still smiling faintly. She wasn't particularly disturbed at the fact that every last one of her former subjects was about to be wiped off the face of LoneWorld forever. In reality, this was because she rather hated them all, as impossible as it seemed for the sweet little old lady to hate anything .
Attie spent a moment in contemplative silence, then got back to her feet, tapping the cane twice on the old, rough wooden floor as she did so.
”Well. I suppose we’d best be getting on our way then. No use just sitting about waiting for LoneWorld to end without us, hmm?” She said, shuffling back to the bed where a simple leather shoulder bag rested. She shrugged it over her shoulders, flicked the strap with her thumb, then appeared quite ready to go. ”Do you have friends with you, Kilwen? I fine you might like to get back to them.” Then, frowning some and eyeing the ceiling suspiciously, she added in an almost playful manner ”I’m...not sure how much longer this old castle is going to stay standing.” Almost as if on cue, there was a distant, deep thumbp sound from somewhere within the bowels of Castle Motukka, and the floor vibrated slightly in time. Attie did not seem particularly concerned about this, however. ”Lead the way, Kilwen. I might look like a shuffler but Ol’ Attie can keep up with the quickest of us, se’true.”
”We’re closing the case, Dave.”
Corporal Investigator Clégg sat hunched over his desk, one hand propping up his head, the fingers laced into his dark, salt and pepper hair, hoisting up his old hat so that it sat crookedly atop. His eyes, rimmed with dark circles from long nights of caffeine-fueled sleeplessness, scanned dully but meticulously over the text feeds that scrolled relentlessly up across the semi-holographic screen angled on the surface of the desk. A cigarette - unlit and appearing to be made of some kind of acrylic - dangled loosely from his lips. A glass of Ardellan gin sat to his side, not quite forgotten. Sunlight poured in narrow slits through the windowshades. One of the perks of being based in the Capitol City - a room with a view. Real sunlight. But Clégg had spent most of his life in places where the sun didn’t shine, and so he usually found himself shutting it out from habit.
It took him a long moment to acknowledge the man who had tapped on his door some minutes before, wanting to ‘talk to him for a minute’. When he did, the Investigator’s sharp green eyes rolled lazily up to meet the reluctant gaze of his boss.
”...What-”
It wasn’t a question. The man didn’t answer it as such, only sighing through his lips and leaning back against Clégg’s office door with a half shrug. “Case closed, Clégg. You’re being reassigned.” He didn’t seem too happy about it either.
”Since when is a Corporal Investigator reassigned?” He grumbled incredulously, the screen still lighting his face from below with a pale electric glow.
”Since one in particular went sticking his nose too far up the feds’ ass.” He replied stiffly, lips tight. ”Come on Dave, don’t play dumb on me.”
”I ain’t playin’ dumb, cat. I just wanted to hear you say it.” The old detective grumbled, voice like sandy hewn gravel. ”Those kids are still out there, Koder.”
Administrator Iran Koder gave another helpless shrug, spreading his arms wide. He seemed apologetic, but not too much. “What can I say, guy? You knew what you were getting into here. Frankly I’m amazed they let it get as far as it did.”
Only then did the Detective shut down the screen, with more force than was strictly necessary. He snatched up the gin - there was tonic in it too, but mostly gin - and leaned back in his reasonably comfortable chair, gulping down half of what remained in the glass before setting it gently on the chair’s arm, fingers clasping it lightly. He stared at the surface of his desk - real wood - for a long moment. Koder, to his credit, was patient.
Another heaving sigh, the detective shook his head. ”I don’t like it.” He growled, ”I don’t like it one bit, Iran.”
”Right there with you. This whole situation’s @#$%ed up five ways since Friday. But you know how it is, Dave. They don’t like having their dirty secrets aired out. It doesn’t matter that nobody’s getting prosecuted-” ”There’s still kids out there, Iran.” David snapped, his rocky baritone voice harsh in the little room’s still air. ”Kids, Iran. They’re just kids-...” The sharpness drained away rapidly, leaving only a tired, sad, middle-aged man slouching in his chair, lightly clasping a glass of booze and slowly shaking his head as if continually denying the whole situation.
”Iknow, Clégg. I-...” But the words caught in Koder’s throat, and he put his face in his palms, rubbing at his eyes. Dave thought it was a show, to make him feel better. To make him feel like he wasn’t the only one who cared about the kids that were unaccounted for. Realistically he knew Koder didn’t care, at least not all that much - but he was still a good man, and the detective appreciated his effort.
”And reassigned, too. @#$%. They must really have their panties in a twist.” He grumbled, actually rather impressed that he’d made such an impact on the system - not that it was a system he cared for one way or another. They weren’t all bad. All governments did @#$%ed up things for the betterment of the population - though dragging kids into it didn’t sit well with him. He often thought that the Ardellan Empire had the right intentions as a whole, but individuals within the high ranking cabinets made it go about in all the wrong ways. It had been a point of contention between him and his ex-wife, given her own high-ranking position within the Imperial Armed Forces.
”I think when you said ‘reassigned’ you meant ‘relocated’, didn’t you.” The old detective muttered after a long, heavy silence had thoroughly saturated the room. He felt like he was talking through syrup. Koder nodded, then gestured vaguely and widely upward, indicating the Galaxy, everything. ”Free as a bird.” He said mirthlessly. ”You’ll stay on Imperial payroll as long as you keep out of Capitol City. So you’re not losing your job, at least.” Clégg gave a heavy shrug. There would always be work for someone with his skillset, though the regular pay would be nice.He also knew that it wasn’t actually a choice - he was not going to be permitted to hang around Ardella. This was just their last olive branch, extended to a loyal employee whose only fault was his dedication to his work.
He thought about his daughter.
Poor kid.
What was she, ten now? Something like that. Maybe twelve.
He had never been there for her, not really. They had been close in that way a kid could be with a parent they hadn’t seen on a daily basis since they were in single digits. She looked up to him, as far as he could tell - which he thought was a terrible idea. David Clégg was nobody’s role model.
The divorce had been rough on all of them, but especially her. And he hadn’t been there for her through it. He’d become a fringe relative, yet she idolized him. He hadn’t seen her once since she’d left for the Academy. Even on that day, he’d been standing off in the distance, far behind the other parents clamoring to see their kids off on the train that would take them to promising, bright futures while folks like him stayed in the gloomy past, reliving their mistakes over and over…
She hadn’t even known he was there, most likely. But she’d looked so good up there, looking over the crowds with eyes that were the very mirror image of his own. The only trait she’d inherited from him, aside from her dark hair.
That had been years ago.
No - she’d been thirteen the last time she saw him. Great space, how the time flew when life was little more than a string of hard cases and harder drinks.
A terrible husband, a terrible father. Some guy he was.
”You did a good thing, Clégg. A damned good thing. Twenty kids came out of that place. WIthout you they’d be...Well @#$% knows where, but nowhere good. Koder said, in earnest. “I know it doesn’t make it okay that they got away with a couple of them but...You still did a damned good thing. And I’m honored to have had the experience of working with you...For what it’s worth.”
Clégg gave a bemused half-smile, but said nothing.
”And too...If I’m right, evidence was pointing offworld, right? I mean, the trail of those last couple kids was leading off Ardella, yeah?”
The change in Clégg’s demeanor was virtually imperceptible as understanding flooded over him. Maybe there was a silver lining after all.
The misty Ardellan air was cool against his skin, the gentle rain little more than an inaudible pattering on the brim of his hat and the shoulders of his long coat. His new long coat, a shade of navy blue that was at least vaguely more charming than his old one. Finally it matched his hat.
He hummed an old folk tune to himself, all out of key but not caring. The early morning sun shone down pale and white through the steamy overcast. The letter in his hand - an old-fashioned, hand-written letter in an old-fashioned envelope - gradually grew damp in the mist and drizzle.
Clégg tore his eyes from the pale sky and considered once again the letter in his hand.
He had been a miserable excuse for a father. He had barely been in the girl’s life at all, and had become more and more scarce until they had stopped talking all together. But he had always been in the same city. On the same planet. It had been so long since he left Ardella that the gulf stretching out before him - the gulf between him and his daughter that made the wide river look like a trickling stream - was already giving him vertigo. He had to at least say goodbye, right?
No, he realized - and it was a realization that was clear as day, and brought a tear to his eye like the glaring sun. No. He owed it to her not to say goodbye. She was a proper teenager now. He had been absent now for enough years that she had surely gotten over him. Coming back into her life only in the form of a letter - only once - only to say goodbye - it would be cruel. Heartless.
Dave pocketed the letter. He turned, suitcase in his hand, and made his way toward the waiting starship that would being him to his new life.
He had some kids to find.
New Vegas
It was like someone had been pumping up a balloon, and with each word Ova spoke, the more the balloon inflated. The usually rash and somewhat grumpy Ex-PI was getting anxious, his hands fidgeting as she spoke. One part of his mind told him to hear her out and think about it rationally, the other part told him to get up and deck her straight in the jaw. Her words were like jolts of electricity, running through his veins, each one making him fidget until he finally grabbed hold of the chair. As soon as she was done with her monologue, Arnaldo's body had completely relaxed, in an almost eerie and unsettling fashion. Arnaldo calmly got out of his chair, cracked his back, and walked towards Ova. He grabbed her by the shoulder, and spun her around, their eyes locking.
Arnaldo's calm was a product of insurmountable fear for what he was about to do, the fact that Arnaldo had realized his purpose within the group. It wasn't to protect or be friends with Ketin, it was show Ketin the true wonders of the galaxy. Arnaldo had been burned, shot, and beaten more times than any normal creature could take, yet he only criticizes the mundane things in the universe, like tea and such. He harbors no ill will towards the current universe of now, and he truly loves it, that's why he still travels, that's why he keeps going, that's why he befriends people. Ketin didn't die, he was reborn, he was given the option to live his life. He was given the option to explore the adventure, the pain, and the love that the universe had to offer, and this Dimensional Lord sought to eliminate that. Ova sought to imprison Ketin once again, Ova sought to take Ketin away from Nirix, Ova sought to make an imperfect world. A world were the pain that makes reward so much sweeter, is all but forgotten. A world whose sole road is paved in the souls of the lost.
"Everything you just said was complete cockamamie bull, and I want my friend back." Arnaldo said, his eyebrows furrowing, his senses sharpening beyond belief, his sense of surroundings going from the usual static his brain cooks up, to a clear cut picture. His subconscious screamed in agony as it told him to survive, to not do it, but like before, Arnaldo did what he wanted to do. Dropping his hand cannon to the ground, releasing his cloak, and tightening his shoes, Arnaldo had a fleeting image go through his mind, and that image was Jet Jackson, giving him the thumbs up. With this, Arnaldo resolved all of the swirling thoughts, and his metallic extremity began to whirl and release smoke. He took a fighting stance and braced his back leg. Then he threw a fist as hard as he could, into Ova's general face direction.
It was like someone had been pumping up a balloon, and with each word Ova spoke, the more the balloon inflated. The usually rash and somewhat grumpy Ex-PI was getting anxious, his hands fidgeting as she spoke. One part of his mind told him to hear her out and think about it rationally, the other part told him to get up and deck her straight in the jaw. Her words were like jolts of electricity, running through his veins, each one making him fidget until he finally grabbed hold of the chair. As soon as she was done with her monologue, Arnaldo's body had completely relaxed, in an almost eerie and unsettling fashion. Arnaldo calmly got out of his chair, cracked his back, and walked towards Ova. He grabbed her by the shoulder, and spun her around, their eyes locking.
Arnaldo's calm was a product of insurmountable fear for what he was about to do, the fact that Arnaldo had realized his purpose within the group. It wasn't to protect or be friends with Ketin, it was show Ketin the true wonders of the galaxy. Arnaldo had been burned, shot, and beaten more times than any normal creature could take, yet he only criticizes the mundane things in the universe, like tea and such. He harbors no ill will towards the current universe of now, and he truly loves it, that's why he still travels, that's why he keeps going, that's why he befriends people. Ketin didn't die, he was reborn, he was given the option to live his life. He was given the option to explore the adventure, the pain, and the love that the universe had to offer, and this Dimensional Lord sought to eliminate that. Ova sought to imprison Ketin once again, Ova sought to take Ketin away from Nirix, Ova sought to make an imperfect world. A world were the pain that makes reward so much sweeter, is all but forgotten. A world whose sole road is paved in the souls of the lost.
"Everything you just said was complete cockamamie bull, and I want my friend back." Arnaldo said, his eyebrows furrowing, his senses sharpening beyond belief, his sense of surroundings going from the usual static his brain cooks up, to a clear cut picture. His subconscious screamed in agony as it told him to survive, to not do it, but like before, Arnaldo did what he wanted to do. Dropping his hand cannon to the ground, releasing his cloak, and tightening his shoes, Arnaldo had a fleeting image go through his mind, and that image was Jet Jackson, giving him the thumbs up. With this, Arnaldo resolved all of the swirling thoughts, and his metallic extremity began to whirl and release smoke. He took a fighting stance and braced his back leg. Then he threw a fist as hard as he could, into Ova's general face direction.
Ultima Proten
"That's good enough for me, partner." Ringo said, switching to a pat on the back instead of completing the handshake, due to Muta's amorphous body and Ringo's wariness towards it. Ringo had dismounted the hoverbike, his faux boots breaking as they hit the ground. "Sonuva..." Ringo cursed before realizing he had 500,000 Standard in his hands. "I could just..take a slight detour...just to grab some new clothes...it wouldn't take too long..." thought Ringo, his eyes drifting to the alleyway markets just to the right of G̵͙͇̻̉͐̔͛̚͝ḩ̶̞̞̱̻͂̈́̀̓̀͊̆̅̍̾́̚͝u̶̲̫͙͓͙̹̟̤̼̭͖͓̍͛̉̔̾͘͜ľ̵̲̯̫͇̰͓̖̯̞̣̜͙̘͉̹̆̇̒͒̿̐̓̒̈́̍̃͝͠a̴̡͖͎̣̩̠̒̍̈́͘ĩ̷̡̢̨̘̣̼̱̳͖̲̺̺̀͜'s-Ship-Emporium. Before he could even tell Muta that he was going to be right back, a shot fired over his head and crowds were dispersing. "I GUESS WE REALLY DON'T GET ANY BREAKS AROUND HERE" screamed Ringo, busting open the side compartment of the hoverbike, revealing a hoverbike racing jacket, a sleeveless workout shirt, and a some combat boots.
Ringo instantly threw off his hat, his cowl, and his flannel, donning the new garb, all the while the chaos around him increased. "Muta, get inside G̵͙͇̻̉͐̔͛̚͝ḩ̶̞̞̱̻͂̈́̀̓̀͊̆̅̍̾́̚͝u̶̲̫͙͓͙̹̟̤̼̭͖͓̍͛̉̔̾͘͜ľ̵̲̯̫͇̰͓̖̯̞̣̜͙̘͉̹̆̇̒͒̿̐̓̒̈́̍̃͝͠a̴̡͖͎̣̩̠̒̍̈́͘ĩ̷̡̢̨̘̣̼̱̳͖̲̺̺̀͜'s, I'll be there in a sec, just let me figure this out real quick like" mustered Ringo, sitting on the ground, ripping his boots off. Ringo whipped out a knife from his boot and shakily cut his sideburns, ducking behind the hoverbike as he did. Ringo whispered under his breath,"Its high time I stop emulating heroes, and become my own", and grabbed his discarded cowl. He tied the cowl around the throttle, and kicked the ignition, sending the hoverbike spiraling towards the shots. Ringo, in an almost uncomfortable way, rolled out of the way of the shots and into the ship dealership.
"That's good enough for me, partner." Ringo said, switching to a pat on the back instead of completing the handshake, due to Muta's amorphous body and Ringo's wariness towards it. Ringo had dismounted the hoverbike, his faux boots breaking as they hit the ground. "Sonuva..." Ringo cursed before realizing he had 500,000 Standard in his hands. "I could just..take a slight detour...just to grab some new clothes...it wouldn't take too long..." thought Ringo, his eyes drifting to the alleyway markets just to the right of G̵͙͇̻̉͐̔͛̚͝ḩ̶̞̞̱̻͂̈́̀̓̀͊̆̅̍̾́̚͝u̶̲̫͙͓͙̹̟̤̼̭͖͓̍͛̉̔̾͘͜ľ̵̲̯̫͇̰͓̖̯̞̣̜͙̘͉̹̆̇̒͒̿̐̓̒̈́̍̃͝͠a̴̡͖͎̣̩̠̒̍̈́͘ĩ̷̡̢̨̘̣̼̱̳͖̲̺̺̀͜'s-Ship-Emporium. Before he could even tell Muta that he was going to be right back, a shot fired over his head and crowds were dispersing. "I GUESS WE REALLY DON'T GET ANY BREAKS AROUND HERE" screamed Ringo, busting open the side compartment of the hoverbike, revealing a hoverbike racing jacket, a sleeveless workout shirt, and a some combat boots.
Ringo instantly threw off his hat, his cowl, and his flannel, donning the new garb, all the while the chaos around him increased. "Muta, get inside G̵͙͇̻̉͐̔͛̚͝ḩ̶̞̞̱̻͂̈́̀̓̀͊̆̅̍̾́̚͝u̶̲̫͙͓͙̹̟̤̼̭͖͓̍͛̉̔̾͘͜ľ̵̲̯̫͇̰͓̖̯̞̣̜͙̘͉̹̆̇̒͒̿̐̓̒̈́̍̃͝͠a̴̡͖͎̣̩̠̒̍̈́͘ĩ̷̡̢̨̘̣̼̱̳͖̲̺̺̀͜'s, I'll be there in a sec, just let me figure this out real quick like" mustered Ringo, sitting on the ground, ripping his boots off. Ringo whipped out a knife from his boot and shakily cut his sideburns, ducking behind the hoverbike as he did. Ringo whispered under his breath,"Its high time I stop emulating heroes, and become my own", and grabbed his discarded cowl. He tied the cowl around the throttle, and kicked the ignition, sending the hoverbike spiraling towards the shots. Ringo, in an almost uncomfortable way, rolled out of the way of the shots and into the ship dealership.
The walls were white.
The air was dry and still.
A middle-aged man regaled in smart black military dress sat behind a metal desk, featureless save for the pale blue glow of a holographic screen that was visible only from his side. He sat with elbows propped on the desk, hunched and peering over his interlocked hands at the small person standing before him with a deep degree of concern.
An androgynous teenager stood at stark attention at the center of the room. Androgynous, though he not the young person’s profile displayed on the holographic display he never would have expected the fifteen year old to be a girl.
She wore a white, button down shirt that fit impeccably save for the cuffs extending just barely too far over her wrists - which appeared to be a matter of preference and did nothing to stain her presentation. It was untucked - this, he knew, was a matter of having forgotten - but there had been no reason to point this out. The top button was undone, which was also forgivable considering how much the kid was sweating beneath it. Had it been anything but the finest Ardellan ballistic silk the shirt would have been terribly stained. Black slacks bagged just enough over black, thick-soled work boots that had been polished to a gleaming shine. Her hair was cropped short enough that it didn’t even touch her ears, and had a slight, natural flare about the top of her head. Her eyes - brilliant emeralds behind a fair complexion - were wide, intense and piercing.
From her neck hung not a black tie, but a polygonal, metallic blue pendant on a thin chain. It was the lower half of an Imperial Special Agent’s badge, making her the only person in the galaxy whom the holder of the badge’s other half truly and inherently trusted.
She stood at attention, heels together, hands neatly behind her back, pin straight. He could just see where she had one wrist in a trembling, white-knuckled death grip behind her, in an effort to let out some of the tension without him knowing. Her breathing was labored and forced, and she was desperately working to keep it controlled. Still there was a slight tremor to each breath. Her jaw was clenched tight enough that it was probably going to be sore for days.
Her presence was impressive to him not for any perceived confidence, but the sheer sum of willpower she was mustering in order to stay as she was..
She was terrified.
As she should be.
After a long moment, the man behind the desk tore his eyes from the girl - who he could tell was at least a little relieved to have him not staring at her though she didn’t show it - to the similarly dressed old man standing grimly in the back corner of the little room. His head was bald but for two wild tufts of silver hair that flared back from either side. He watched the terror-stricken girl with a concern much deeper than that of the man behind the desk. The metallic green upper half of his badge was pinned to his black necktie.
He looked back to the girl. Impossibly, she seemed to stiffen further under his weary gaze, and that he was only adding to the inhuman levels of stress she was currently under only briefly crossed his mind.
”Are you sure about this?” He asked for the sixth time, leaning back some in his seat. He was really directing the question at both of them, but it was the girl who answered with a curt nod and a shaky ”Mhm.” That was right between sounding steel-set and far beyond uncertain.
”You do know what you’re doing here. I...feel I haven’t explained it well enough…” He said, sounding uncertain himself now. He wanted so strongly for the girl to change her mind that it was becoming frustrating. He dithered slightly as that frustration began to creep into his voice. ”You know that you’re not required to undergo this treatment until you’re nineteen years old. Loyalty conditioning is not something to be taken lightly. I can’t even say that it’s humane. It’s induced psychological trauma, that is designed to stay with you the rest of your life. Do you understand that?” His question ended with a note of incredulity.
The girl gave another, slighter nod and made another, much smaller sound of affirmation that came out as no more than a jittery little squeak.
The man looked back to the lanky old guy in the corner. ”And you…?” But his words drifted off as he decided against asking yet another already rehashed question. The old man nodded, hooked nose and angular face a mask. ”There are no laws or regulations against someone Roy’s age voluntarily undergoing the procedure.” He said flatly, for the third time - his voice like the pale, dusty gravel of the Ardellan ashlands. ”If she is set on her decision, I will not try to stop her.”
Though, in truth, he had spent long hours trying to dissuade the girl from making a rash decision. It was only when she finally had convinced him - through perseverance alone - that it was not a rash decision at all that he had relented.
He’d had enough. With a heaving sigh, a shrug and a wondering shake of the head he croaked ”Alright then.” WIth no conviction at all, sounding more defeated than anything. The whole interaction was being recorded. He would be ardently documenting his disapproval of this later.
Frowning, he reluctantly began the same induction speech he had given to dozens of other Special Agent trainees, all of whom had looked a great deal more prepared than this frightened kid. His tone was curt and businesslike, though accented with the residual disapproval as if he were still waiting for her to waffle between every word.
She didn't.
”The procedure will take place over a forty eight hour period of isolation and adaptive sensory deprivtion, during which time no entry or exit from the conditioning cell will be permitted under any circumstances, including emergency situations. This is not a surgical procedure, and no medications will be issued to mitigate potential injuries induced by the procedure, up to and including suicidal actions. Should such actions take place, no intervention will be made. For your safety and the safety of others, security measures will be taken prior to, and following the procedure including, but not limited to...”
Tora Station
It had been a long time since Roy had felt that icy claw wrap around her heart. That tightness in her gut that turned her center of gravity into a taut ball of fear.
For her, it had been the isolation.
No Agent ever remembered what actually happened during the forty eight hours of their loyalty conditioning procedure. The memories were specifically suppressed by the same technology used to induce the panic state due to their traumatic nature.
But every agent who had gone through it (She was not sure if Agents were still so required to) remembered some aspect, vaguely, that had most bore into them. For her, it was the loneliness. The blackness of total, inescapable solitude. The primal need to cry out if only so that someone might know she existed, and the bone-shattering certainty that there was nobody in the universe to hear her.
It was a vast, tidal blackness in her chest. It was an illogical feeling, surrounded by people as she presently was. An irrational anxiety brought on by experiences that only her subconscious could recall. It was the remembered pain of an amputated limb that buzzed and cried in her lungs. The certainty that something incomprehensibly terrible was going to happen and there were a billion directions to look in at once. The instinct, the need to somehow pull it off, to somehow achieve omniscience with only two eyes from which to see. It was a physical pain that stabbed through her shoulders. Her arms buzzed. She felt sick.
This was only the beginning of the consequences of the decision that she was suddenly certain she had to make. Maybe it was only made worse by knowing she was helpless but to follow through. It was the only path forward. Nothing had been more obvious to her in her life. She did not want to - but it didn’t matter now.
Roy watched the scientist and his monster. Listened to the Lord of Technology remind her yet again about the most exceptional of her many, many failures in the field she had aspired for since her childhood. Likely to the surprise of Kampfer she showed not even the slightest interest at the mention of the Devil Eye. She watched a cosmic horror morph from the body of a boy, listened without hearing as it screamed, as the little machine screamed with it.
And through it, she perceived Christofer. Sensed him shifting to restrain her if she decided to deck the kid in the face for his comment; which had indeed made her blush slightly through her scowl, despite everything. She hated that part of herself. She heard, with a swell of something like affection that prodded valiantly against the abyssal pressure in her lungs, as he stood up for her, even becoming downright sassy in her defense. That she could not understand why he would do such a thing did not matter.
She felt the button pressed into her hands, and gripped it automatically, pressing the switch without thinking in order to return the bellowing monster to its humanoid shape. She heard the mad scientist ask if she had questions. She heard Christofer asking her questions too. She looked down at the folder still in her hands, bearing the signature of the only man in the galaxy she took orders from. It could not be faked since hardly anyone knew he even existed…
She stared at the diamond shaped GE emblem on the folder’s letterhead.
Then, she blinked. Some of the tension in her stance vanished, shedding from her in invisible sheets. Her eyes lost their wide, intense, almost hysterical gaze, softening. She forced herself to breathe. Willed herself to continue breathing, at all costs.
She felt eyes on her. Her throat hadn’t been this dry and coppery since staring down the man at the desk. Her every instinct had not demanded so fiercely and desperately for her to back down and flee from her choice since she had stepped through the door to the conditioning cell. Her heart had not sunk so deeply since she’d heard the slam of the door and the clang of the locks. She had never regretted something so much since turning around to see the featureless door and knowing there was no turning back. The blankness that followed in those two days was comparable only to the numb disbelief with which she watched herself, looking ahead into a future so uncertain it might as well not exist at all.
But she had gotten through it before.
She would do it again.
After a long, heavy silence, Roy slowly shook her head, still looking down at the papers in her hand. Something that was not a smile tugged at her lips but refused to show itself.
”No.”
It was more a breathy sound than an actual word. Like she was testing it. After another moment, she repeated it with more conviction.
”No.”
Slowly, tenderly she placed the file and the device atop the surface of the bar behind her. ”I’m done.”
She put her hand on Christofer’s shoulder in such a soft and gentle way that it would possibly startle him in itself. She turned him to face her, and plucked the blue polygonal pendant from his neck, the breakaway chain coming apart easily with a little ’snick’.
With the same hand, she reached into her jacket and produced the matching green pendant that made up the other half of her badge.
She turned to Marconi then, who had been conspicuously silent. All the intensive distrust and resentment from earlier was gone. To everyone else but Christofer she looked tired and bemused. But to Christofer it would look like she was trying to keep something huge and terrible inside her under control - and it wasn’t her usual anger or formless rage. That too was disturbing, in its way.
With no malice at all, but firmly enough to make it count, she pressed both halves of the badge into Agent Marconi’s chest, and left them there.
”I quit.”
A tsunami of interconnected catharsis and unspeakable dread slammed into her with the words. She pushed it down, and continued forcing herself to breathe at regular intervals. If anyone protested, she would cut them off with a slow, solemn shake of the head that demanded by its’ gravity alone not to bother arguing.
It was her right as a Special Agent. There were no contracts or paper trails where they could be avoided. Malbec trusted the loyalty conditioning process implicitly, and with good reason. No Agent in the history of the program had ever just quit. The post-trauma and anxiety was all the assurance that the administration needed that their Agents would behave. It wasn’t even technically a crime to simply quit. All it meant was that she was forfeiting all the perks - and responsibilities - that came with the position.
The position she had spent her entire adolescent life preparing for. That had seemed as unreal on the day she started as it did now. The position that had made her swell with such great pride on the day she got her badge, which she was now giving up in humiliation.
And in return she would have to deal with the conditioning.
Nobody had ever done this before. Even the experiments testing what happened when one went against the conditioning were of shallow depth and useless. It was insane. If for some reason Marconi had undergone the same procedure, she would know all too well what sort of mad leap Roy was taking.
Royanna took Christofer’s hand in her own - properly, this time. Her palms were clammy and cold with sweat, the grip almost tight enough to hurt and faintly trembling.
With her other hand, she again reached into her coat, clearly grasping her gun in preparation for a draw that would be absolute lightning if she followed through. She didn’t, though - only readying herself in defense.
”Don’t.” She said lowly, hoarsely, but looking at Kampfer rather than Dee. She didn’t care what Dee did. Dee could trail them all day for all she cared. But the only reason she had uttered but a single word and not ’if I ever see you again I will not hesitate to put you the @#$% down’ was that she was too internally freaked out to muster more than one or two words at a time.
Imperial Civilian Royanna S. Kallenger gave her companion’s arm a little tug as she sidled back along the bar, eyes locked on Kamfer and his pets, ready to snap at the slightest movement. She backed away from them slowly, not letting go of Christofer’s hand, and not looking behind her, confident in her steps. Reaching the sound shield that Kampfer had deployed to keep their meeting private, she kicked it aside, disabling or disrupting it long enough to pass safely through just in case it had other uses as well.
She didn’t wait around to hear what they had to say. She didn’t care. It didn’t matter to her any more. If they did talk, she didn’t listen.
The pair reached the end of the narrow side corridor. People could be heard milling about casually in the wider corridor beyond, going about their business as if nothing insane was happening in the smaller passages.
It was unlikely that anything could stop her now - and unless something did happen, Royanna would proceed around the corner and take off toward the Diplomat at a rapid walk, Tugging Christofer along with her, dragging him if she had to.
Roy said nothing, silently fighting off the swelling panic...
New Vegas
Lord Ova
Hearing his answer Lord Ova was a bit disappointed by the old man's answer. However what she wasn't expecting was the fist coming at her which knocked her into her face, causing her to stammer back as her hands up to her face. She groans in both anger and pain before opening her hands as one angry eye looked at Arnaldo. "Of course, you are just like the rest! You are those people in the cave who follow shadows and yet when someone wants to show you the light, you cast them out because you take the shadows as truth!" she yells at him, her voice seething with anger. "When someone has done the impossible, you call BS even though you haven't seen it!" she adds as she slowly lifted her hands away from her face. "Its my job to collect souls I don't understand why mortals are offended by the natural order of things. I should have you pay in what you have done" she says as her eyes went towards Hayden being pinned by Nirix. "However it seems your friend has commented a gravest sin in assaulting a Lord in there own realm" she says as she gave a smirk. It wouldn't be long till alarms began to blare and everyone began to rush towards the exits. Ova slowly backed off before turning around and running off with the crowd as everyone made for the exits to return where they were.
Lord Hayden
Hayden was enjoying his buzz and his lewd thoughts as Ketin went to the bathroom. He just loved how fluffy that tail is and how the fox boy looked. He gave a wide lazy smile as he thought about all the dirty stuff they were going to do. His thoughts and buzz however disappeared as he was pinned to the bar top, by one of Ketin's buddy's being accused of some gibberish like he took him some where. Hadyen was pissed and his angered glare looked back at Nirix, before she would even know, he would swing a heavy bottle full of booze onto her head, making sure it shattered on her head and not on her horns. Hopefully, this would daze Nirix just enough so that he could hop over the bar. "HOW DARE YOU ACCUSE ME OF SUCH THINGS! I WAS PLANNING ON GETTING MY ROCKS OFF AND YET YOU ACCUSE ME IN TAKING HIM AWAY? I DON'T EVEN KNOW THIS YET, YOU DECIDE TO ACCUSE ME AND ATTACK ME IN MY OWN REALM?!" he says angrily as he was on top of the shelves of all the liquor bottles known throughout the galaxy, a good 12ft high. As the alarms blared for everyone to evacuate, Hayden smirks and says "Time to pay the price in committing the most worst crimes a mortal like you would do and that is assault a lord in his or her own realm" as he stood as bottle began to fly off the shelves and began to pelt Nirix with liquor bottles, drenching her into alcohol and hopefully shattering on her so they would cut and leave blunt force wounds. Hayden was pissed and he intended Nirix to pay.
Lord Ova
Hearing his answer Lord Ova was a bit disappointed by the old man's answer. However what she wasn't expecting was the fist coming at her which knocked her into her face, causing her to stammer back as her hands up to her face. She groans in both anger and pain before opening her hands as one angry eye looked at Arnaldo. "Of course, you are just like the rest! You are those people in the cave who follow shadows and yet when someone wants to show you the light, you cast them out because you take the shadows as truth!" she yells at him, her voice seething with anger. "When someone has done the impossible, you call BS even though you haven't seen it!" she adds as she slowly lifted her hands away from her face. "Its my job to collect souls I don't understand why mortals are offended by the natural order of things. I should have you pay in what you have done" she says as her eyes went towards Hayden being pinned by Nirix. "However it seems your friend has commented a gravest sin in assaulting a Lord in there own realm" she says as she gave a smirk. It wouldn't be long till alarms began to blare and everyone began to rush towards the exits. Ova slowly backed off before turning around and running off with the crowd as everyone made for the exits to return where they were.
Lord Hayden
Hayden was enjoying his buzz and his lewd thoughts as Ketin went to the bathroom. He just loved how fluffy that tail is and how the fox boy looked. He gave a wide lazy smile as he thought about all the dirty stuff they were going to do. His thoughts and buzz however disappeared as he was pinned to the bar top, by one of Ketin's buddy's being accused of some gibberish like he took him some where. Hadyen was pissed and his angered glare looked back at Nirix, before she would even know, he would swing a heavy bottle full of booze onto her head, making sure it shattered on her head and not on her horns. Hopefully, this would daze Nirix just enough so that he could hop over the bar. "HOW DARE YOU ACCUSE ME OF SUCH THINGS! I WAS PLANNING ON GETTING MY ROCKS OFF AND YET YOU ACCUSE ME IN TAKING HIM AWAY? I DON'T EVEN KNOW THIS YET, YOU DECIDE TO ACCUSE ME AND ATTACK ME IN MY OWN REALM?!" he says angrily as he was on top of the shelves of all the liquor bottles known throughout the galaxy, a good 12ft high. As the alarms blared for everyone to evacuate, Hayden smirks and says "Time to pay the price in committing the most worst crimes a mortal like you would do and that is assault a lord in his or her own realm" as he stood as bottle began to fly off the shelves and began to pelt Nirix with liquor bottles, drenching her into alcohol and hopefully shattering on her so they would cut and leave blunt force wounds. Hayden was pissed and he intended Nirix to pay.
Ultima Proten
As soon as Ringo told them to go inside, the large alien grunted in acknowledgement. They ducked inside to be greeted by rows of colorful ships, ranging from small to large and in just about every shape in the universe. While Mutacogi couldn't see color, the unusual objects were still a wonder to behold. With this many options, it was hard to know what the difference was between each one especially when one had no practice with this sort of thing.
A salesman, lizard-like and chubby, came to Muta's aid. Despite uncertainty at the enormous alien's appearance, she greeted, "Hello there! Welcome to G̵͙͇̻̉͐̔͛̚͝ḩ̶̞̞̱̻͂̈́̀̓̀͊̆̅̍̾́̚͝u̶̲̫͙͓͙̹̟̤̼̭͖͓̍͛̉̔̾͘͜ľ̵̲̯̫͇̰͓̖̯̞̣̜͙̘͉̹̆̇̒͒̿̐̓̒̈́̍̃͝͠a̴̡͖͎̣̩̠̒̍̈́͘ĩ̷̡̢̨̘̣̼̱̳͖̲̺̺̀͜'s-Ship-Emporium! Are you looking for anything specific? We have designs from all around the galaxy. Small to extra large ships. We'll be renovating though in the future to allow colossal sized ships." She smiled charmingly.
"Uhhhh...." Mutacogi paused. There were so many options. Then, what Ringo had said came back to them. "I'm interested in the fastest ship you have. For two."
She nodded quickly and lead them down the aisle. Once they were in section, she stopped at the first ship. A slender silver ship that was just big enough for two people, a few supplies, and a large warp engine. "This is called the Interloper. It's tourism design. In normal flight mode, it's an average speed, but it's warp engine has two fuel channels, allowing twice the distance of light speed travel. Great for hopping from planet to planet to visit popular planets. Not much in way of defense and it might be a tight squeeze if you plan to bring more than three people. Fairly cheap though." She motioned for the amorphous being to follow her. The next ship in the line was much larger. Several guns on display interrupted the triangular design.
"This one is a retired scouting model used by many planets. One of the fast ship's here. Great communication rig. It has a strong defense and many guns. Good if you plan to travel to slightly more dangerous parts of the galaxy. Can hold up against nearly any pirates or slavers who might try to intercept. Slightly more expensive but plenty of room." She rapped her knuckles against the hull of the ship. Muta touched their hand to their body as if trying to touch their face in contemplation. She nodded as if understanding the simple gesture before leading them quickly to the next ship.
The third ship was more crescent shaped and was a bit smaller than the one before. Bearing a couple of strong turrets, it was charcoal grey plated with the words "Ultima Proten" written on the side. The salesman made an exaggerated at it exclaiming, "This is the Ultima Proten- luxury exploration space vehicle. Cloaking capabilities and guns with shield for protection. It was made carry up to four people, leaving more space for supplies when visiting unoccupied planets for weeks. Amazing high speeds even up close near a planet's surface. Not only that, but amazingly maneuverable. It's quite expensive, but this is the fastest ship if you can affor-"
"We'll take it," Mutacogi said simply. She looked surprised, but the alien didn't seem to notice. "My friend has our money. He's.... ah!" After looking around, they noticed Ringo walking through the dealership.They called him, waving the clawed hand in the air as if their height wouldn't get enough attention. "Here! Over here
As soon as Ringo told them to go inside, the large alien grunted in acknowledgement. They ducked inside to be greeted by rows of colorful ships, ranging from small to large and in just about every shape in the universe. While Mutacogi couldn't see color, the unusual objects were still a wonder to behold. With this many options, it was hard to know what the difference was between each one especially when one had no practice with this sort of thing.
A salesman, lizard-like and chubby, came to Muta's aid. Despite uncertainty at the enormous alien's appearance, she greeted, "Hello there! Welcome to G̵͙͇̻̉͐̔͛̚͝ḩ̶̞̞̱̻͂̈́̀̓̀͊̆̅̍̾́̚͝u̶̲̫͙͓͙̹̟̤̼̭͖͓̍͛̉̔̾͘͜ľ̵̲̯̫͇̰͓̖̯̞̣̜͙̘͉̹̆̇̒͒̿̐̓̒̈́̍̃͝͠a̴̡͖͎̣̩̠̒̍̈́͘ĩ̷̡̢̨̘̣̼̱̳͖̲̺̺̀͜'s-Ship-Emporium! Are you looking for anything specific? We have designs from all around the galaxy. Small to extra large ships. We'll be renovating though in the future to allow colossal sized ships." She smiled charmingly.
"Uhhhh...." Mutacogi paused. There were so many options. Then, what Ringo had said came back to them. "I'm interested in the fastest ship you have. For two."
She nodded quickly and lead them down the aisle. Once they were in section, she stopped at the first ship. A slender silver ship that was just big enough for two people, a few supplies, and a large warp engine. "This is called the Interloper. It's tourism design. In normal flight mode, it's an average speed, but it's warp engine has two fuel channels, allowing twice the distance of light speed travel. Great for hopping from planet to planet to visit popular planets. Not much in way of defense and it might be a tight squeeze if you plan to bring more than three people. Fairly cheap though." She motioned for the amorphous being to follow her. The next ship in the line was much larger. Several guns on display interrupted the triangular design.
"This one is a retired scouting model used by many planets. One of the fast ship's here. Great communication rig. It has a strong defense and many guns. Good if you plan to travel to slightly more dangerous parts of the galaxy. Can hold up against nearly any pirates or slavers who might try to intercept. Slightly more expensive but plenty of room." She rapped her knuckles against the hull of the ship. Muta touched their hand to their body as if trying to touch their face in contemplation. She nodded as if understanding the simple gesture before leading them quickly to the next ship.
The third ship was more crescent shaped and was a bit smaller than the one before. Bearing a couple of strong turrets, it was charcoal grey plated with the words "Ultima Proten" written on the side. The salesman made an exaggerated at it exclaiming, "This is the Ultima Proten- luxury exploration space vehicle. Cloaking capabilities and guns with shield for protection. It was made carry up to four people, leaving more space for supplies when visiting unoccupied planets for weeks. Amazing high speeds even up close near a planet's surface. Not only that, but amazingly maneuverable. It's quite expensive, but this is the fastest ship if you can affor-"
"We'll take it," Mutacogi said simply. She looked surprised, but the alien didn't seem to notice. "My friend has our money. He's.... ah!" After looking around, they noticed Ringo walking through the dealership.They called him, waving the clawed hand in the air as if their height wouldn't get enough attention. "Here! Over here
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