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Even in the most desolate backwater in the universe, the stars shone ever bright. During what would barely be considered a split-second in the lives of those very same stars, grand happenings had unfolded on Eyremos's rusty crust; happenings that would inevitably make their way into history books for wide-eyed schoolkids and brow-lifting scholars alike, to remind them of an age in which the ferocious natives of the Great Hellhole and the Men from Deep Beyond walked the planet's savage reaches like long-lost brethren. ⠀This event, which in its infancy'd been nothing more than a sudden solar flare and a faraway dot hardly perceptible by the bare, Eyremosian eye, had sent shockwaves through not only the glorious Novaean United Imperium or Konis's stitched-together Commonwealth of Vaults, but the terrestrial shithole as a whole: not a single hamlet or stashed-away tribe was left in the dark about the arrival of these enigmatic extra-galactic toursists. And, well.. how couldn't they? It wasn't everyday that one woke up to two stranger vessels popping up high up in the ether. In a matter of a few weeks, the initial shock came to pass and the Men from Deep Beyond scattered across Eyremos, sharing their captivating presence with all (un)fortunate enough to lie on their path. The NUI favored the new company especially, but as always is with this continent, they're not worth the tale of trills, trials and terror we're going to tell. No, our story takes us to Konis, the untamed little brother of the larger, more civilized land mass overseas. Here, on the arid borderlands between the Western Vault's territory and the uncharted Feral Lands beyond, lay a salt mining village by the name of Backbreaker Flats- once a town unworthy of its own spot on a map, but now a hub for Beyonder activity. For in this village, puny and forlorn as these mining settlements tend to be, was in possession of the most charming tavern known to man: the Limping Hound, pride and glory of the strangest family in town, the aloof, auburn-haired Camerons. Few knew where they came from or how they'd even managed to raise so comfortable an establishment in a ville that could barely afford proper plumbing, and even fewer knew why it was that so many outsiders were attracted to it. But to young Blake Cameron, one thing was abundantly clear: nothing said brotherly love like a tub full of shit. "Hey, thanks again, sucko!" Noon had passed and still nothing useful'd become of Blake's day. He'd crawled off his sack hours too late, as usual, swallowed his mouthful of Scrub-O-Toothdust™, also as usual, and the very moment he'd wandered downstairs to snatch a brunch and check out the commotion at dad's, Franz'd dropped the outhouse's basin into his arms. "Shoots a scrap-rat with mom once and he's the prince.." Blake muttered between wetted, clenched teeth. "He's t'talker, the second-hand kinda guy! Defo gonna steal dad's spot under our noses if we slack off.. right, Danny?" As he trotted along, repulsed and weary, a series of affirming clicks emerged from besides his dusty legs. Danny, his trusty two-tailed krathound partner in crime, had eagerly reported for duty! Danny was a chill guy, preferred rotten scraps over quarrels, and probably was the only other local creature in Backbreaker Flats that wasn't content with a mining life on the slow lane. Alas, he did have the privilege of being the Limping Hound's mascot, able to slobber on as many Beyonders and other cool outsiders' shins as he wanted, instead of having to play the part of the unwanted, troublemaking first-born. ⠀With energized tipper-taps his buddy ran ahead, plopping his dry rear down next to the Pit, where all things decaying, fecal and disease-ridden were kept. Yep, he knew the drill. Same one Blake'd always followed for the last thirteen outta nineteen years of his life. He approached, and just when he was about to unload all the stinky goodness onto the heap.. ..the thundering eruption of angry screams, yells and spicy bar violence hit his ears! "Holy- ARGH, SCRAP ME!!" Ka-sploosh went the dropped shit-basin, but the duo of idiots was already on their way: clouds of dust and even a whole person were spat out the cloth-based door of the tavern, where apparently a brawl'd broken out. "Hey, Dan, whaddaya think the catch is this time?" His wise ass knew there was only one way to find out! Yet when Blake and Danny burst through the entrance, they were met with quite the curious spectacle: somewhere near the bar, propped up on the stools like a hero telling his boldest stories, was a young chick in a many-pocketed vest, remotely Southern in appearance, yelping something about a computer that might.. oh, right. Around this mysterious woman were the patrons at war; some yelled unspeakable things at her and threw their bottles, cups, slippers, some yelled at each other in her defense, but a significant portion just used this out-of-hand argument as an excuse to get involved in a good fistfight! Stools and fists flew, surprisingly few aimed at the woman (it almost seemed as if the Konians were too thankful for her starting an argument that allowed them to hit other people), except- hey, no sneaky moves in his tavern! "Here goes-" Blake bounced from his position and towards a gray, pox-faced Nnos that was about to attack the strange woman from behind with a broken bottle. If a sucko had to fight, they at least had to fight fair. He took a leap and- BAM! Youngster and dwarf flew across the floor, their skin and clothing mercilessly grazed by the coarse sandstone floors. Blake groaned and pushed his opponent away, finding the guy unconscious by the impact, and had to dive to stop Danny from ripping his throat open. The furious beast rattled and jerked from side to side, and he had to squeeze Dan's fat, fuzzy tum to calm him down. Except that he didn't. Danny kept on growling, as if something dangerous was near, looming overhead.. "Wha's wrong, boy? We gottem, only needa- WHOAH!" Two enormous cold hands lifted him off the floor. Large and cold, yeah, but not like dad's. These bad boys had claws, talons, unlike any humanoid he knew.. "Uhh.. sorry??" However, it wasn't about him: all around the bar, the fighting seemed to have stopped, sudden like a spill-fever outbreak. Heart in his throat and Danny yapping at his toes, Blake used this awkward, hauntingly silent moment to glare around, look at the former combatants. Regulars, some from the caravans and milder bandit clans, but a whole lot clad in Beyonder clothes too. Just like the strange chick, in her funky little vest. And like.. the.. dragon things that he hadn't noticed before.. ⠀Then he saw it: next to the new chick, lounging on the stone-cut counter with the throat of a formerly violent Madman TeGee under her boot, was a pale woman, raising a hand into the air. It was Backbreaker Flats' proudest, flashiest and most cunning mercenary, freshly back from yet another successful gig. Mom! "I volunteer, missy," quote the stern, bellowing voice that then resounded throughout the inn. "Was 'bout time we had 'em eggheads show up with 'nough balls to look the Feral Lands in its ugly maw. Consider my blazes yours." Yeah, it was his mom, it really was! Still dangling from the chilling grip of what Blake presumed to be one of those frighteningly big and nasty dragon people, he bit his cheek-flesh and stared at the ground, his thoughts running wild. More open-minded mumbles and chatter began to buzz from the crowd, people looked to each other: it was true that it'd been centuries since anyone in town had dared to even suggest faring so far into the Feral Lands. And all the while, the Feral Lands'd continued to be a handful, spewing maniacs, monsters and twisters at them every season. If they ever wanted to learn that hellhole's secrets and possible turn back its diabolic tide, now was their chance. Although, how sure could they be that this spunky Beyonder had any scrappin' idea what she was talking about? How reliable was she really, where was proof that they would actually get paid after they finished off this gig? Thoughts like these warmed the stuffy tavern air. Blake's mind, however, was completely elsewhere. Whereas others saw potential risks, he saw a way out. Out of Backbreaker Flats, out of this boring life that his mother'd chosen to never live! He could be with her for once, learn her tricks, and become a badass. Plus, with the promised happy buck, he'd finally be able to afford his own speeder, too! "I.. I'm on board too!" His chafed skin cried out in pain when he stuck his hand into the air. "I'll.. I'll go with you, to the Feral Lands. Mo- uhh, Madina's right, we gotta take up arms 'gainst that rotten place somehow!" This was his moment. This was his time. Granted this ambition-packed Beyonder could look beyond the green youth in his face, she would give him a free (or more like, handsomely paid) ticket out of this place, to gain the experience he needed to become a merc himself with whatever she was planning to do on that weird suicide mission of hers. At last, he would be free! Still forced to take short, shallowed breaths thanks to the stoic repitilian holding him by his collar, Blake shot quick glances around the room, skipping over tables to watch the faces of the patrons, his mom and the new chick. He stuck on the latter. This overly rambunctious first introduction to Konis hadn't made her change her mind about going, had it..? |
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Blake didn't have to toss a gander at the bar to know that 'Mighty Mad' Madina Cameron was staring him down. His spine tingled. What could possibly be going on in that hat-sporting noggin' of hers? No doubt that mom'd have her, well, doubts about him joining, him lacking himself a bit of experience and all- but by now, she'd also know that he wasn't that stupid. No one except dad, Franz and probably Danny - although said Danny was too busy sniffing Blake's lizard-like grabber's shoe to care for complex familial tensions - knew who she was to them, and by the looks of it Madina wasn't planning on giving him the maternal slap on the wrist she was craving to give. Still avoiding the eye-contact, he smirked. Checkmate. That was when all exciting hell broke loose. Mom's three-word application'd fallen on eager ears: next thing he knew, the odd Beyonder chick, once so wrapped in enigma and intrigue, nearly broke out into dancing and chirping introductions. "Heh, well then, pleasure's all mine, Prof. Balaban. Name's Mad Madina," answered mom, tipping the serrated brim of her wanderman's hat, soaking in her own badassery. "And that young fella over there's-" Woah, woah- did she change her mind? Blake's eye twitched, mouth hanging slack. But nope, the near-spilled beans crawled back into the can, for the chat had ended, and Professor Balaban came bouncing his way. Shit.. do away with the stupid grimace! Act.. professional. "H-hey. I'm Blake." No, not like that! Paralyzed head to toe, he hadn't noticed that his feet were on the floor again, which was for the better because if he did, he would've dropped. "A Beyonder, talking right at me.." raced his thoughts. "Someone from other stars, wanting me on their mission. Out of town! Just adventure!" Two warm hands grasping his woke him up. ⠀"Oh, yeah, uh, it's really prime t'meet ya too, Ayla. Me and m-Madina, we'll be mad happy to assist ya in any sorta weird- or cool- experiment things you gotta do out there! Know the place like the palm of our hand, after all." No, he didn't. No one did. Raised eyebrows and under-breathy chuckles bit on his skin like acid. Mom'd turned her back on him already.. Fortunately, focus was almost immediately shifted to the single thing keeping him upright: the half-gnawing snuggles from good ol' Danny. And, becoming the first in ages, Ayla genuinely seemed to like the little guy! Not a pest, not a mongrel, nah, she thought he looked cute! Well, Dan did get called a 'she', but nothing a friendly correction couldn't fix! "This is Danny! He's a dude, I think. Sucko's also my lil' two-tailer bud, keeps me company when I work, and all. I'm sure y'don't mind if I bring 'em along, eh? His mean bite might come in handy, and he's never-" Oh scrap, not the head, not his damn head! "Woah woah- wait, he doesn't like it if ya- DANNY!" He didn't know how quick to squat. "DANNY! CHILL OUT, BOY!" Despite his whoppingly unimpressive weight of roughly twelve kilograms, catching Danny amidst his rocketing trajectory towards Prof. Ayla's face dragged Blake to the floor with ease. "C'mon, guy, not cool!" Danny raised his hackles and proceeded to scream and yap for the next minute to come, slowly calming down as Blake, keeping him in a gentle elbow-lock, scratched his chest and blubbery throat. His face a bright red and wearing an embarassed grin form ear to ear, he couldn't even fathom how humiliating this moment was. She couldn't have known of course, but rubbing the snotty nostrils on a two-tailed krathound's cranium generally was just a really, really bad idea. "Sorry. That's his snout up there, he's usually a pretty okay guy!" Blake stammered, unaware of the slimy pink tongue slithering towards his chin like a malicious worm. "Might wanna try his belly next time, he likes that better. Anyway-" "Anyway indeed." Two patterned, spurred and all-around magnificent rootleather boots joined the floor-bound party of three. "Now that ya got two-and-a-half of sturdy new folk on ya team, it wouldn' hurt to share with us some mission specs, would it? Where we'll meet, when we'll go, all that good business." Moments like these made Blake feel less sad about his mother's relative absence from his childhood. As gnarly as his dad could be whenever he'd gotten caught throwing rejected salt rocks at the town's Sentry 'Maton again, it never got close to how much fear and unsettlement her cold business-voice struck into him. Even some of Backbreaker Flats' burliest miners hadn't thought of crossing her; now especially they stared down at their drinks in total silence, spooked twice with those dragon people skulking around as well. Speaking of- "Hmh, by the way, is Mr Redhead on board too?" Did she just snark a dragon?! Lips sealed, Blake slowly rose to his feet, shaking Danny once to get his tongue out of his nose. Having a scale-face of that sheer size on the squad would prove to be beneficial, sure.. but wouldn't they have to worry about, y'know, getting eaten? |
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Sir.. so he was a sir now?! Blake didn't know how wide to grin when Prof. Ayla, steadfast in that enthusiasm of hers as only a true Beyonder could be (not that he knew batshit about how those people were supposed to behave), erupted into cheerful chatter and led two of them to her table, only a few steps away from the former battleground. All manner of funky gear and documents lay scattered upon it, concealing the old iron surface beneath layers of curious baubles. Huh, Proffy wasn't fooling around! Man.. Blake bit the inside of his cheek and, keeping his violent nutsack of a pet clenched to his chest, seated himself on a rusty stool. This was where the real bizz would be discussed, where big shit would hit the fan! He just knew it. An expectant, almost goofy smile crept onto his lips, immediately greeted by a stinky lick of Danny's. And thus came the.. explanation, or something. Like the academic genius she was, Ayla started off her sales pitch with a bit of a philosophical approach, zig-zagging her way through the concept of sentient species being sorta alike. Right.. uhh- "D-does.. does he count?" Blake blurted, motioning at the crimson dragon-man. Real professionals asked questions, right? Or was it the other way around..? The very moment he glanced towards Mad 'Mom' Madina for an answer, though, a stern side-eye told him all he needed to know. "What the boy meant to say is that, no, we will in fact not back down from this gig after ya tell us the nasty deets- given ya ever will. Quitting isn't part of our vocabulary." There she sat, legs apart like a burly brute and eyes glaring from underneath her hat with the cold gravity of a veteran. Set in stone that statement was, too; Blake hadn't even considered how a job offer from Ayla could be seen as, well, too controversial. He hadn't seen her throw a single punch during the brawl, so there was no way on Eyremos that she'd be any more unstable and dangerous than the other merc-feeders out there! Leaving how reckless it was to wander the Feral Lands out of the mix, of course. "So, do delight us; what ground-shattering hypotheses are you looking to prove way Out There?" Out There, in the bustling megaroot jungles and caustic geyser fields. A lush paradise for all that slaughtered and caused misery, from the fiercest storms to the foulest monsters. Mom'd gone there countless times, obviously, and countless times Blake'd only been able to snoop out the details by eavesdropping on her late-night conversations. No matter how vivid her stories of beasts and bandits'd been, she'd never sounded the slightest bit scared. Few Backbreakers could say the same.. |
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