| Pages: 1 [2] 3 4 5 6 :: one page |
|
|
| Author |
Thread Statistics | Show CCP posts - 0 post(s) |
True Adamance
Praetoriani Classiarii Templares
Praetoria Imperialis Excubitoris
13397
   |
Posted - 2014.10.01 12:43:00 -
[31] - Quote
GÇ£I pity you kidGÇ¥
The words reverberated through his mind for several seconds before he was able to return to the matter at hand, reaching out and handing over his personal NeoCom to CustomGÇÖs, who took the data pad with a flourish.
Kador ran a palm through his tousled hair, grimacing as Galm strode of with Noah on his trail, straight through the CustomGÇÖs portal and into the city proper beyond. How the pair got through so easily was a mystery to him but the guard seemed genuinely excited to have seen the half-breed, enough to let him know Galm was somewhat well known around these parts.
GÇ£You know him?GÇ¥ He shot across the counter, attempting to sound as surely as possible. GÇ£ Tiny guyGÇÖd have to grow another foot to even land a punch.GÇ¥
From behind the mesh an evil chuckle sounded once again.
GÇ£Know him? Not personally..... but that was quite a show....guy must have been round the circuit a time or two.GÇ¥ He replied, his effeminate voice full of scorn tinged with what he could only discern as mirth. GÇ£Papers are cleared and registration is complete. Welcome to Snowfall Mr Oussurian.GÇ¥
He nodded his thanks, taking the NeoCom back, and proceeded on through the gate.
As he passed through the portal he found himself instantly greeted by the familiar sounds and smells of urban city life, and though the sights themselves varied in a very distinct manner, he found himself enjoying the solidarity of the timeless feeling of concrete beneath his boots.
Compared to the loading bay the city itself was warm and vibrant, the air held a certain humidity that was not present , and seemed to possess its own weight and hundreds, possibly thousands of others breathed the same recycled air.
He glanced around looking for some sign of the others to no avail. Instead he wandered down the main thoroughfare for several hundred meters drinking in the sights and sounds, admiring with scale of the station and its interior city. Around him rose tall, blocky buildings, sections corroding and smeared with surrealist graffiti and tags of gangs or artists, other sections bore designs of well know individuals in caricature. Every surface was covered with boards bearing Caldanese text or Neon advertisements in Nanpali script denoting the nature of the buildings themselves.
As he walked he passed through a pillar of steam rising from one of the curbsides many grates. They smelt like urine, and were awash with a foul waste water, several small, empty glass canisters, and sodden lumps of paper trailing their gaudy colours that tinged the tepid flow in odd patterns.
Elated at the rush of warm air that ran up his body, and the sense of freedom he found himself exposed to Kador quickened his pace, leaping the curb in a single step and tacked onto a group of revelatory teens enjoying their evening.
No one questioned him, few besides the street peddlers hawking their greasy looking foods spared him the time of day, and he soon realised that to them he was just another well dressed fool looking to waste his money.
He stopped off at one of the stall, ducking under the low hanging veil and ordered in broken Nanpali the first thing on the menu. What he received moments later was a fried pocket of bread filled with some unidentifiable meat sauce and a small glass of what appeared to be thick, dark green liquor.
He glanced suspiciously at the stall owner raising an eyebrow.
The response was immediate. The man let out a loud gaffaw, slapping at his belly with his free hand, and let loose a stattaco burst of unintelligible words. When he saw the young Amarrian hesitate he gestured, first at the cup, making to down the glass in a single dose, then to take a bite of the meat.
Oddly enough Kador found himself following the manGÇÖs gestures, a genuine grin now forming across his features. The thick mixture tasted foul, the taste of alchol was overpowering, causing his face to loosen and lips to purse, eliciting another loud gaffaw from the stall owner.
The meat however was delicious and despite his watering eyes he swore it was the best thing heGÇÖd eaten in weeks. The sauce was rich, meat tough but flavoursome and juicy.
He intended to inquire further as to what it was but decided better, tossing the man another chit and wandering out from under the stall and back into the crowd. He finished the pocket quickly followed the flow of the crowd further on down into the labyrinth of alleys.
He passed several men out in uniform, all Matari, who ducked between the crowded groups offering the passers small cards bearing the inappropriately dressed, or even nude forms of women, each one bearing contact information, addresses, rates.
He noted with a sense of trepidation that his vision was blurring around the edges, and his movements had become more lax and less controlled. It felt right though, there lost in the roar of the crowd and the hustle of the street corner.
One dashed over to him holding out the stack of cards in a greasy looking hand. Kador grabbed a fist full of them and kept walking, quickly flicking through them. He pulled out one however, he liked the look of this one, by the name of Chastity, a disproportionately busty, blonde, Intaki too. This one he folded neatly through the centre, tucking it into his breast pocket and casting the others aside.
He thought Denak might have approved, but considering the manGÇÖs dour repose and grim facade perhaps it would have been the opposite.
Still the card have given him what heGÇÖd needed. An address, a small map, and more importantly a place near the Pits where he could enter watch the combatants before entering his fights.
"We were commanded to burn the system...We did. I mourn the loss of the innocents caught in our fires" -Kador Ouryon
|
True Adamance
Praetoriani Classiarii Templares
Praetoria Imperialis Excubitoris
13397
|
Posted - 2014.10.01 12:47:00 -
[32] - Quote
HawkerGÇÖs.
Quickly he drew forth the card again; momentarily appreciating one of the sides more so than the other and several passersby whistled their own appreciation. The map was rudimentary, only denoting the key roads and tram ways that would be required to reach the Pits.
Kador ducked down one of the side alleys, pushing through the crowd, then past several shady looking individuals taking long breaths from those small glass inhalers.
He emerged out onto an equally gaudy street, with equally excited looking revellers, with the same Matari passing out the cards of the local whores. He grabbed some more, barely looking at these until he came to one of the tram stations.
There he pressed into one of the overloaded carts with two dozen other reeking bodies, half stinking of liquor, the other of sweat and ****. Fortunately he managed to secure a position in one of the corners where he busied himself perusing the smaller cards.
Suddenly a wave of new passengers piled on to the cart, pushing a stumbling, drunken Gallentean against him who despite being out of earshot of his friends continued to ramble on some nonsense about his exploits that evening.
GÇ£.....an so that ***** wasnGÇÖ..... like for it with Enja nGÇÖ me.....so I jusGÇÖ lef for the bar....kep drunk...drink....GÇÖnGÇ¥
He looked up, finally realising he was speaking to a complete stranger. His face was way too close, breaching all ideals of personal space, breath condensing on KadorGÇÖs cheek as he spoke.
GÇ£Oh.....hey buddy...hic..... hey.....Howzit goinGÇÖ hafin fun?GÇ¥ He slurred, continuing on his tirade without a breath. GÇ£ Course yGÇÖare this place is amazinGÇÖ...... got more action thGÇÖn Caille righ ere.GÇ¥
Kador nodded, it was all he could do as he gently pushed the drunk away from him, that awkward grin returning to his face, half amused, half uncomfortable.
The tram however continued apace, some of the passengers getting off at various stations, others piling in to continue the crush.
He knew heGÇÖd have to make his transfer soon, the card had indicated two lines, the Fall line, and then Main Red down through to the pits and the scummy clubs that surrounded it. He made the transfer quickly, happy to be rid of the clingy Gallentean. The trams came at regular intervals like clockwork, and he was able to proceed down into the Pits with little trouble.
The lower he got however the dimmer the light did as well, and fewer drunks rode the elevators. The atmosphere changed; there was a charged anticipation in the air that put him on edge as buildings became more densely packed, smaller arterial alleys running off in various directions from the main streets.
They were less crowded, a few groups walked here and there discussing loudly their favourites to win, while couples pressed together intimately as they peeled off down into the alleys following the promised of Vacancy signs, while other more desperate looking fools tested the odds on their NeoComGÇÖs looking for the evenings premier bets. Over all of this came waves or sound, a sonorous roaring that echoed down the claustrophobic alleys denoting a feverish bloodlust that was becoming more prevalent the close he got to the Pits themselves. This wall of noise cut through by the hall marks of charismatic announcers and endorsements in various languages.
He realised suddenly that he was excited. Excited to be free to do as he pleased, when he pleased. Here he found no expectations, no demands from his superiors, from his teachings, not even from Satja.
It was perhaps the first time he had spared the girl a though since heGÇÖd departed for Snowfall, choosing instead to focus on what he had to do and the role he was going to be playing. The trouble at this point was that the role was so easy to play, it was so easy to let go of those inhibitions in a place like Shoashu Saasanko.
"We were commanded to burn the system...We did. I mourn the loss of the innocents caught in our fires" -Kador Ouryon
|
Vyzion Eyri
The Southern Legion
Final Resolution.
2487
|
Posted - 2014.10.01 14:01:00 -
[33] - Quote
Vyzion noticed the tunnel system opening up ahead and quickened his pace, finding himself in a square-ish space, with him standing on a raised platform which fell off to a lower gravelled path lined with tracks, perpendicular to him. Both sides of the track continued into tunnels, darker and bigger than the one Vyzion had just exited. A train station, he guessed, and even as he thought it a tram cart came rattling down the tracks, headlights cutting swaths through the dimness. It shuddered to a stop as the driver notices Vyzion through the grimy window.
He looked at the state of the cart, and promptly shook his head at the driver, who shrugged and kept going. Vyzion quickly stretched his legs, leapt onto the tracks, sprinted until he caught up with the lumbering tram, and then settled in to a steady run in the narrow bit of ground between the tracks and the walls of the tunnel behind it.
The tunnel stretched on for some time, and the mercenary was breathing heavily by the time he saw the pinprick of light ahead, which slowly grew to a sizable hole, then grew larger by the second until...
Neon. So much neon that he could taste it. The tram continued on into the main city of the station, but Vyzion froze like a deer caught by headlights. He shut his eyelids hard, but it felt like the lights had burned their way into his eyes and he could still see their ghosts in the blackness.
The darkness of the tunnel probably was no help, he mused as he opened his eyes tentatively. Neon signs and glowing billboards lined tall concrete buildings, neon signs, neon walkway indicators, neon road markers. Much of the lightning though was covered in some quite tasteful graffiti, so the overall effect was patches of brightness, and muted glows.
It was... unique. The pilot had seen Caille's Crystal Boulevard and after that rarely did any other cityscape impress him, but this would have had to be a close third after the sunset over the walls of Dam-Torsad. As he walked into Snowfall proper, though, and observed people enjoying themselves freely, indulging in their own desires, imbibing substances through methods that even his Gallentean upbringing could not have prepared him for, the Imperial City of the Amarr Empire, as magnificent as it was from the outside, was probably more in need of the chaos they were about to bring upon Snowfall.
Vyzion shook himself from his reverie. He was deep into the city now, multi-coloured lights shining down on him from every direction. The station's city-dome above his head depicted an artificial night sky, but it may as well have been day down below for all he knew. The streets were painted in rainbows from all the neon, and even people had lights on them. Vyzion raised an eyebrow at a few women who were using glowing ribbons and loops to literally highlight their bodies. The medic particularly liked one who had made it appear as if some strands of her hair were made of light. Now you don't see this in Caille...
He resisted the temptation to research further -purely for scientific purposes he told himself- and pressed on. His eyes were adjusting rather quickly and soon the neon lights seemed to fade and it begun to get darker...
Vyzion turned. Then turned back to face forward. His eyes hadn't adjusted at all, there was just less lighting in the area he had walked to. He turned to a nearby wall and looked up. It was a residential building with balconies jutting out. Perfect. He jumped up, grabbing the first balcony by his fingertips. He pulled himself up, repeating the process for each level until he reached the rooftop.
From this vantage point he realised that only a small section of the whole city was as slathered in neon light. The rest of the place was a little more conservative. A neon district in a neon city.
Vyzion sighed. First a little orphan, then an amazingly unique, lit-up section of a sprawling city. How many more reasons could he discover to NOT want to blow up the place?
> Quis custodiet ipsos custodes?
|
Galm Fae
Eskola Ergonomics
330
|
Posted - 2014.10.02 02:10:00 -
[34] - Quote
Clockwork Jester wrote:
GÇ£Hey Fae, I think its this way,GÇ¥ Noah nodded his head down one of the alleys, the sign above stated it was the stations red light district.
Galm crooked his head down the ally, shuttering slightly at the thought. He takes a step backwards, his breath hitching for an instant before recovering.
"Right... Yeah... Red light district," he stammers, his voice unsteady, "Makes sense. Just... Try not to get distracted in there, alright?"
He shuffles forward before stopping again, talking to Jester over his shoulder.
"You're going to see some things in here you may not like. Just try to remember that the best thing we can do for these people is to shut this station down. And above all else? Don't let anyone see you sweat. Keep your head down, keep your nose clean, and don't let me handle the talking with Zipang."
That being said, Galm adjusted the bomb in his jacket and pressed further down the street. The lewd sexual deviance of the place began predictably enough. It crept to a start, opening first with the odd holoreel rental store or adult book athenaeum. Noah couldn't help but notice, much to his horror and amusement, that some of the novels being peddled bore a striking resemblance to the very same story Fae seemed to be reading earlier. The depravity seemed to grow at and exponential rate as they pushed on, eventually pressing past odd bands of Achurian or Deteis women who would wave playful as they passed by. The closer they drew the more soothing inflection their voice would take, promising to heal them of all ailments if only the soldiers had the time, money, and kindness to lay with them for the night.
Fae wished that was as far as it went. But no matter how many brothels they passed, no matter how many women they refused in search of the Diamondback, the alley continued to stretch on into oblivion. Dim, vermilion lighting proved just enough so the mercenaries couldn't make out hard features among the horde of tourists they shared the streets with while still outlining the delicate forms of prostitutes among the distressed grey buildings. Eventually the crowd thinned slightly as they pressed deeper into the more niche section of the neighborhood. Skintight shorts or flowing robs gave way to shined latex or well pressed satirical versions of Provist dress blues. More unique items were brandished openly for purchase, contraptions the likes of which only the most inventive Gallente or most sadistic Amarr could conceive. Fae finally spoke, his voice low and solemn.
"I was deeply hoping we would have located the place by now."
There was no embarrassment in his voice, but that unsettled tone remained. He wondered if Noah would understand why as they turned the next bend. He paused, deeply wishing he didn't have to go any further. Before them stretched the same alley, moving onward and onward in the pervasive and constant red light, though with significantly less tourists than earlier. When he spoke again, Noah could finally place his tone. Regret.
"You know how butchers always keep the best cuts in back of the shop?"
He stared at Jester, letting him derive the meaning on own before moving forward once again. It was silent here, as silent as a compact urban sprawl could be anyway. There was no chatter or pleading, only a focus silence as individuals moved from one shop window to the next, carefully assessing the merchandise that lay just out of view. On the far end sat an understated holographic sign above a single metal door, the trademark Gurista emblem flashing as a snake began coiling through every open hole of the skull. The Diamondback was right within reach.
"Just look at the floor here, trust me. No use looking around."
He felt like he was trying to convince himself more than CJ. As they inched closer to the door side by side, he couldn't stop himself from looking away any longer. He knew they would be right there, staring at him as he passed, and he owed them the courtesy of at least making eye contact.
Before Galm sat a wide, slightly tinted window built into the side of a building. The glass was clearly secure, holding a firm position despite obvious attempts to break in with brute force or long, deep gashes into the pane itself. He wondered if the tint was mirror coated, providing one way access on the other end, or if it was simply made slightly darker so visibility was limited to whoever happened to be standing just in front of it. He got his answer when she looked at him, her eyes welling up with tears. The girl behind the glass was young, no older that fourteen as far as Fae could tell. She sat there, naked in her own little contained habitat tracking Galm with her misty blue eyes. Her box certainly appeared comfortable, filled with all the plush amenities a young woman could hope for including an artist easel and a fully furnished bed. Behind the glass, softly, he could here a soothing melancholy tune play from unseen speakers as they lulled her into a passive trance. But there was still no mistaking it, the room was little more than a circus cage, storing the ringleader's main attraction until such a time that it could be let out for a brief display at an exorbitant fee.
She was still staring back at Fae, the little Sebiestor girl, tears washing her eyes out. That was the worst part really, that they weren't even real tears. There was no catharsis or sorrow in them, only a reprogrammed response to the stimuli of seeing another potential customer. She was unwillingly streaming tears of utter joy, her body primed through classical conditioning to know what the sight of another man entailed.
He didn't need to look around, but Fae knew there where others. Not all as young as this one, but there were enough for any type of company you decided to rent for the evening. The exact indoctrination process was still closely guarded, and the families incredibly well compensated for their 'donation.'
Kirjuun! Uakan!
Teknikiara!
Kanpai kameitsamuu!
Ra ra ra!
> --Confirmed Badguy Cera YC116--
|
Clockwork Jester
Namtar Elite
Gallente Federation
60
|
Posted - 2014.10.03 21:34:00 -
[35] - Quote
The further the ventured into the depths of the district the closer they came to the rotten heart of the station.
GÇ£Whatever happened to basing your operations out of a bar? I miss the old days.GÇ¥ he spoke mostly to himself, of a time that had only existed for a short time on Snowfall.
Places like this were one of the reasons he disliked dealing with the Guristas. They were much more open about their depravity than the more militaristic Angel Cartel. The Blood Raiders were something else entirely. The soldier was not naive enough to believe that similar things did not happen elsewhere, he had seen it for himself, they were just better about hiding it.
Galm Fae wrote:"Just look at the floor here, trust me. No use looking around."
Noah grunted a response, signifying that he understood, not that he would do it. He refused to look away, to avoid them, or deny their existence. To him looking down or away was disrespectful. It did not mean he agreed with what he was seeing, but he would not deny that it was happening. The only thing that mattered was surviving, for those here this was their only known means of survival. That was something Noah understood well, the lengths people would go through to survive, what they would give up.
Galm Fae wrote:Her box certainly appeared comfortable, filled with all the plush amenities a young woman could hope for including an artist easel and a fully furnished bed. Behind the glass, softly, he could here a soothing melancholy tune play from unseen speakers as they lulled her into a passive trance. But there was still no mistaking it, the room was little more than a circus cage, storing the ringleader's main attraction until such a time that it could be let out for a brief display at an exorbitant fee.
GÇ£At least its a pretty cage,GÇ¥ His voice was flat, but strong his voice held no disgust or anger at what they were seeing. GÇ£Others arenGÇÖt that lucky.GÇ¥ The way he figured it was if there was an individual willing to pay for a service then there was an industry. Considering his chosen profession he had no room to judge or belittle someone elses chosen work. Noah was responsible for committing acts that were probably worse than anything going on in the station. If they accomplished their mission they would be committing an unforgivably egregious act. If he was going to bear the responsibility for ending their lives he owed them the respect of recognizing their existence, and trying to remember their faces.
Noah placed a hand of FaeGÇÖs shoulder, GÇ£IGÇÖm going to put my bag in the coat check.GÇ¥ With that said he moved quickly to the coat check window.
He said nothing as he gave the woman his bag, she offered him a fake, forced smile and a ticket. He accepted the ticket and returned her fake smile with a soft, genuine one of his own, along with his thanks. Pocketing the ticket he returned to Galm.
GÇ£Lets go, weGÇÖve only got so much time.GÇ¥ |
Thal Vadam
Praetoriani Classiarii Templares
Praetoria Imperialis Excubitoris
36
|
Posted - 2014.10.03 23:28:00 -
[36] - Quote
Thal continued his walk towards the arena, the countless indaviduals pushing and shoving their way around the dark recesses of the stations streets. People would bat an eye sometimes at his Amarrian robes, but most were to preoccupied with their lives to fully notice him. This was good, being know wasn't something he longed for.
As he continued his walk along the edge of the street, he heard loud grunts and cries of pain from a alleyway close by. He quickly used the blackness of his robe to blend in with the shadows and learn he looked on with horror at what he saw. The young Gallente girl that had checked him into the station was being beaten by three large thugs. The thugs looked like two Caldari and a Brutor, and they were pushing the girl back and forth between each other, giving her a punch each time. The Brutor shouted,
" WHERE'S OUR MONEY YOU STUPID B***!"
The Brutor slapped her aside and she fell to the ground. She was coughing up blood and her eyes face was soaked in tears. She whimpered,
"I don't have it yet. Please just stop."
The Brutor and his Caldari accomplices broke out into laughter.
"When we grow tired of your pain and tears, you'll have peace. In death"
Thal rushed out of the shadows at the Brutor and slammed him into the wall. The two Caldari tried attacking him from behind, but Thal turned and used both his arms to punch them square in the face, knocking them out. Thal heard a great booming cry as the Brutor stood up. The towering figure drew a long knife with various tribal markings etched on to the blade. The Brutor rushed Thal and stabbed at him, but Thal grabbed the man's arms. They both struggled against each other's strength, and it seemed no man could gain an advantage. Until Thal changed his stance and let go of the man's arms. The power the Brutor was using to push the knife kept on going, and the beast stabbed himself in the chest. He fell limp to the ground, dead.
Thal was immediately taken by a much lighter force. The Gallente girl had swung him around and embraced him with a hug.
"Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!"
She grabbed Thal's head and kissed him right on the lips. Thal tired pushing her back, but she was attached to him like his combat dropsuit. She finally stopped kissing him and smiled at him, her arms wrapped around his neck.
"What can I do to repay you handsome?"
Thal gently pushed her off and reached into his cloak. He pulled out several ISK chips and placed them in her hands.
"Get on a ship, get off this station, get out."
She smirked at him, but suddenly understood the urgency in his voice. She took the chips,
"Ok hun, I'll be looking for you out there."
She winked at him and ran off into the street. Thal soon returned to his walk, the arena in sight. As he approached, he saw Junko waiting for him. He walked up to her discreetly and came up behind her. He bent down and whispered.
"Ok Junko, you ready?"
"The Enemy has no idea of your true power. Let us show them! Thal to his men during the siege of Huola
|
Hunter Junko
Sebiestor Field Sappers
Minmatar Republic
288
|
Posted - 2014.10.05 05:44:00 -
[37] - Quote
Thal Vadam wrote:
She winked at him and ran off into the street. Thal soon returned to his walk, the arena in sight. As he approached, he saw Junko waiting for him. He walked up to her discreetly and came up behind her. He bent down and whispered.
"Ok Junko, you ready?"
Hya'salia didnt respond, only looked to the right and nodded silently. slowly she stood up and with her hand behind her back, motioned to Thal to follow.
as the two walked, she spoke in a low voice, just enough for thal to hear among the shouts and voices of the people gathering for the tournament.
" try to be gentle Thal, i am a decent fighter but nowhere near skilled as you are." she said with a slight smile. weaving in between the line, the two came up towards the Registration booth. an impatient looking man was busy talking to someone else, a caldarian by the looks of it. Hya'salia cleared her throat and stepped up to the booth, where we was immediately shooed by the man, who was still talking
"here for the tournament" she said. the man stopped and eyed her from top to bottom, his eyes stopping just where her chest would be. seeing this, she instantly felt annoyed.
'please dont make me' she thought.
"ahh excuse me, i got a few nobodies who wish to interrupt.... sorry sweetcheeks, no more registrations unless you would like to ... say... pleas-" a hand extended towards the man who was halfway speaking and yanked him off his seat, slamming her elbow against his nose, breaking it with a sickening CRACK!, then she slammed the man's face against the booth table and lifted it up so that he was eye-level with Hya'salia.
"......Now.." Hya'salia growled. the usual demeanor that Hya'salia showed was replaced with a calm, but pure rage. the man stammered, then slightly shook his head, his hand shakily reaching for a datapad.
"n-na name?"
"Hya'salia Jun'kio" She replied in her native tongue, and let the man go, without looking at thal, she turned and began walking towards the preparation rooms, the man visibly shaken as he looked up at Thal. |
Vyzion Eyri
The Southern Legion
Final Resolution.
2495
|
Posted - 2014.10.06 12:47:00 -
[38] - Quote
Vyzion ran across the rooftops gracefully, leaping over the small gaps that formed alleyways between then and making his way to a part of the city he had spotted that didn't seem to have any apartment building or highrise complexes. The neon lights became fewer and fewer as he moved towards this open area; eventually it actually seemed to be night, and streetlamps were the only way for him to see down to the streets below. Neon signs and billboards barely penetrated the darkness, their muted glows painting the bland walls of adjacent buildings in fluorescent colour.
He reached the last tall building and looked down. He was standing on the edge of a huge circle formed by buildings of similar height to the one he stood on, and it appeared as if he was looking down into a shallow cone. The buildings got progressively smaller, ring by ring, as they approached a structure in the center of the circle. Vyzion could smell the blood. This was where the pits were, where mercenary gladiators fought for money, the favour of Zippang, women, fame... or just out of boredom. The appeal, the medic guessed, compared to traditional arena fights, was that it was possible (if the winner felt like it) to progress to the death. Vyzion had read pit fights between immortals, especially one where an unfortunate capsuleer found himself against a mercenary soldier. The crowd had bayed for blood, and the "finish him!" chant was the last thing that capsuleer heard before waking in a medical bay.
He jumped down to the lower level of buildings, rolling to break the fall. Turning around he realised there would be no way he could physically jump back up. It was down from here on out.
Leap, roll, stand. He landed in next smaller ring of shorter buildings. These appeared to be residential by the looks of the plants and balconies.
Another leap, but this time the gap between the buildings Vyzion was on and the next level down was a little wider; he cleared it with his fingertips, body slamming into the concrete wall and nearly rebounding him back off. He silently thanked the past few years of hacking NULL cannon interfaces; it really worked his fingers. He hung there for a moment, regaining his breath. Just as he was about to pull himself up, he heard voices.
"Leena, where are you going?" This voice was high, a child's.
"The clinic, of course. Men aren't going to look at me like this." Another voice belonging to a woman.
"But we can leave! We can get away with that money! We can... find somewhere..."
"... Ritae, darling, we both know there is no 'somewhere'. Everyone works for Zippang. Everyone. If we tried to buy a shuttle out of here it we would dock right back here, right in the arms of that God-forsaken bastard, and you don't want to know wh-"
"I DO know! I've seen them too!" The girl was haughty now.
Silence. Vyzion slowly pulled himself up, keeping as quiet as possible. A few meters away on the flat rooftop, a Gallentean women, beaten and bruised, was crouching and hugging the little skinny red-headed rascal that had stolen his food a while ago.
Leena spoke, her tone much softer now. "Yes, you have, darl'. Yes you have."
The girl, taken aback by the sudden shift in tone, turned away even though it was obvious she enjoyed the attention. That was when she caught sight of Vyzion peering up from over the side of the building.
"EEEK," she squealed. "It's a peeping holder!"
Leena let go of the girl and turned around. Her face twisted in disgust. Vyzion's mind went into overdrive. He tried to scramble up onto the building as the woman stormed over. He had half his body up and was throwing a leg over the side when a foot came crashing down on the top of his head, slamming his nose into the concrete (why was there so much concrete) roof and breaking it. The pressure was removed and Vyzion counted to two pulled himself forward and curled into a forward roll, bowling the woman over. He leapt up and wiped the blood streaming from his nose, then promptly cracked it back into place.
The standoff was strange. Both girls were staring bullets at the mercenary, but he himself could not make eye contact with both easily when one was half the height of the other.
"Another capsuleer," Leena spat. "Here to whisper a promise in my ear and run away too?"
Vyzion sighed. "The alternative being you sleep with them then they wake up naked without anything but a hotel room bill to call their own?"
She didn't respond, so Vyzion continued.
"Look, I don't really want to hurt you. But I could. But I don't want to. I need to get to a clinic, and by the looks of it you do to. That girl there," he points at Ritae, "she owes me. Take me to the clinic and I'll call it even."
The woman turned to the girl. "Is that true, you owe this man?"
Ritae turned redder than her hair. "Kinda..."
Leena sighs. "Fine."
Vyzion grins. Ah... honor among thieves. I could get used to this again.
> Quis custodiet ipsos custodes?
|
Galm Fae
Eskola Ergonomics
331
|
Posted - 2014.10.06 16:33:00 -
[39] - Quote
Clockwork Jester wrote:
He said nothing as he gave the woman his bag, she offered him a fake, forced smile and a ticket. He accepted the ticket and returned her fake smile with a soft, genuine one of his own, along with his thanks. Pocketing the ticket he returned to Galm.
GÇ£Lets go, weGÇÖve only got so much time.GÇ¥
Fae nodded, never once breaking eye contact with the girl. He put his hand to the glass, waiting to see if she'd do the same. She continued to eye him, remaining perfectly still so she could be carefully scrutinized by the mercenary. Fae could have so easily committed every one of her details to memory, from her slender little legs to the way her hair sat perfectly in place along her shoulders. He stopped himself just shy of the act, turn to face the club.
"Sierra hotel, soldier. I need a drink anyway."
He drove towards the door, stopping only for a moment to gather his senses before entering. He needed to be the Pixy everyone would remember. He needed to get angry. All things considered, it wouldn't be that hard. Rage came naturally to him. It was a tool he could easily control, letting it slowly burn under the surface to manifest in the form of dry wit and passive-aggression. All he needed to do was shut off his inhibitions and let the storm inside rage, overtaking his every will until the man who had organized this mission was quickly lost to someone else entirely. When he was ready, the threw the door open and charged inside.
The interior of the club was well furbished compared to the alley, if not just as dirty. Quality modern furniture sat beside overflowing bins of bottles, half empty bottles on mindflood, and cast aside clothing under piercing lights of every color. Exotic dancers stood on platforms just above clusters of seats, jiggling their assets and other unmentionables for the appeasement of... Apparently no one in particular. The club seemed oddly empty save for a few high rollers and scattered guards spread across an otherwise large hall that could easily seat several hundred Guristas.
Galm took another step forward before being stopped by a large, beefy Civire who seemed to materialize from the opposite side of the threshold, holding the mercenary back.
"Bar's closed tonight for a private meeting," he thundered, keeping the small half-breed at bay, "Grabarc's orders."
"Ah," Galm spat dryly, "Did the man bother to tell you who he's meeting with? Or are you just so expendable that he doesn't care if I have to turn you inside-out?"
"Excuse me, bro?"
"Bro. Always with the bro. I swear, these pirates play to their own stereotype. The women are whores, the men are thick, and their best and brightest hold their meetings in a secured ***** bar in the red light district. I'm almost embarrassed for you. It's like none of you have had an original thought in your life."
At this point the bouncer... At least Fae assumed he was a bouncer, frankly the man was chiseled enough that he could be a dancer if he wanted to... Had grown bright red in a state of pure anger, all too eager to throw a haymaker straight in Galm's direction. Even then, he just stood there far too intimidated to take the first move. Galm looked him in the eyes, his augmented irises shinning a dim gold in the rotating menagerie of colors that surrounded them. Fae leaned into his shoulder, pressing hard against him as he awaited some sort of response. When none came he pushed off the guard and continued marching forward into the bar, signaling Noah to follow as he closed the distance to the nearest enclave of gathered spectators.
There were five people crowded around one couch, all passing along a glass pipe in every which direction as they cackled and smirked at the show Galm had displayed. There were three dancers scantily clad in nothing but the lower half of black laced lingerie, leaving their best (though most likely synthetic) bits to dangle freely for the enjoyment of their customers. Each had their own small ethnic traits but all of those were made irrelevant by the unsettling uniformity in their choice of uniform, distracting the eye to far more... Pressing matters of their physiology. Nestled between two sat a rat faced scab of a man, much further along in his mortal life than could be said about either of the two mercenaries. He was the bar owner, Galm reason, or a slaver most likely. All Galm knew for certain was that he didn't like the little fink.
And there, opposite of the man sat Advir "Grabarc" Zippang. The man himself was a snake, an opportunist capable of smooth talking you into a deal so good you couldn't say no only to find in time your dreams will all burn away and leave you with nothing but the ashen husk and an insurmountable bill that permanently binds you to his service. But perhaps most importantly-- and the most dangerous thing about him for that matter-- The man could look good doing it. His face, rugged with the shadow of a charming rogue, sat perfectly framed by a well-combed head of dark brown hair. A sever cowlick only added to his demeanor, giving him a balanced look of utter apathy in the face of even the most trying subjects. On his neck a tattoo of a serpent coiled circles lower and lower down under his jacket before disappearing, leaving it to the imagination to determine just how the viper stretched. His piercing green eyes seemed to glow even under the flashing strobes of the club, seeming so warm and inviting than any guard you may have for the man was instantly washed away by the time he began to speaking. Caging his features was a noticeable, though forgivable amount of eye shadow. Whether it was a 'pirate thing' or if it was to mask the toll of his long nights of partying had been a matter of debate.
"Saisa!" he hissed, his voice honeyed and soothing, "Saisa, saisa, saisa! A while it has been Galm! Seriously though friend, how long has it been? Never mind that though, please! Have a seat, by all means!"
Kirjuun! Uakan!
Teknikiara!
Kanpai kameitsamuu!
Ra ra ra!
> --Confirmed Badguy Cera YC116--
|
True Adamance
Praetoriani Classiarii Templares
Praetoria Imperialis Excubitoris
13405
|
Posted - 2014.10.07 01:06:00 -
[40] - Quote
As he continued down that road he could not help but notice how the feelings of bloodlust and anticipation became palpable, how the people let loose their inhibitions in the neon glow cast down from the gaudy signs above as they open out onto a wide quadrangle.
Humanity seethed here as reveller passed to and fro between the various clubs, bars, and dilapidated peep show that comprised the lower buildings, vices clasped tightly in hand as though someone might simply pull out the rug and cast it all down. Above those, seemingly built atop an older generation of constructs, rose stories of newer, better maintained buildings that continued up into what little he could see of the gloomy reaches of the simulated night sky. These were comprised of finer establishments, one in particular appealed to him, Bastion.
Here too the building seemed to close in around him, only slight cracks in the sky line indicated to him that this place was a station and not a true city in its own right, upper limits if the station barely discernible.
More pillars of steam rose here than anywhere he had seen in the station and the air was a warmer than anywhere else with a noticeable humidity as sweat mingled with sin. Splayed across the lower limits of buildings from half a hundred holographic panelGÇÖs scene of violence, sex, and corporate advertising blared whipping the crowds into a frenzy of activity as trams crossed over head from suspended rail systems bound for the other districts.
He found himself watching the fights on half a dozen panels as men, and some women he discovered, bloodied themselves against one another in the highlights from last seasonGÇÖs circuit. It became very apparent to him in that moment the fights were not simple brawls, there were few if any established rules, and moreover no one watching you back.
It seemed weapons were allowed to some degree, small knives or makeshift shanks seemed to be preferable and didnGÇÖt cause the crowd any issues he saw as one woman opened her opponentGÇÖs throat which showered into the GÇ£splash zoneGÇ¥ in a gory display.
He started suddenly when he recognised Galm in one of the short clips, several years old given the time stamp of the shoddy recording, depicting a highlight reel of finishing blows seemingly ordered with increasing cruelty and ferocity.
Across the plaza he spied a scrawl of nanpali letters, cast in a pink hue, each of the previous letters fusing into the next in an attempt to look modern, however the result was a damnable eyesore.
HawkerGÇÖs, it read.
Beyond this the club itself was in a state of pure disrepair as corrosion had set in the length of the building, and while efforts had clearly been undertaken to less the look of dilapidation it was impossible to hide.
Despite this the club had a steady flow of clientele as a line, primarily of men, funnel through the winding passage of a velvety cordon and through into the building shady foyer. It would be the perfect place for Kador to lay low, he would be one of many hundreds that would pour through that club and spend the evening quietly watching the girls with a drink in hand.
Of the vices he himself could comprehend, or had seen, God only knew what this place was hiding. However these two was seemed of less import since he had been known to drink at the Praetoriates celebratory dinnersGǪ..especially after the Junip Crusade.
The thought made him chuckle, who would have thought that by the end of such bitter fighting heGÇÖd have spent his evening belting out AthraGÇÖs greatest classics with Classiarii Yassavi and Ctarl.
He circled the plaza, passing under the eaves of a dozen buildings, watching with a wide eyed naivety as his curiosity got the better of him. One a single screen high above a woman, heavily tattooed with Caldari and Matari designs, began to sing, discordant notes of the band filling the plaza.
It was all surreal, lights, activity, and accessibility. You could have it all for a time at Snowfall.
He caught himself a moment later, passed by briskly, ignoring what heGÇÖd seen and dismissing it from his mind heading for the club at before him.
He had almost reached the line when a slender arm wrapped itself around his waist causing him to almost jump out of his skin in shock eliciting an amused giggle from his would be GÇ£assailantGÇ¥.
She was tall, it was the first thing he noticed, almost reaching above his shoulder on which she rested her head. She had dark hair that cascaded down over her shoulders to the small of her back, smooth looking skin, and the eyes. They were exotic eyes of the Jin-Mei, emerald green like his own, whose colour were brought out by the correct tones of eye shadow, all encompassed within elegant lashes.
She certainly was pretty, he admitted to himself. But she was what her employers wanted her to be. Painted and appealing.
"We were commanded to burn the system...We did. I mourn the loss of the innocents caught in our fires" -Kador Ouryon
|
|
|
True Adamance
Praetoriani Classiarii Templares
Praetoria Imperialis Excubitoris
13420
|
Posted - 2014.10.07 01:27:00 -
[41] - Quote
She said something to him in a foreign language to fast for him to catch. However the inflection was clear.
Kador was horrified. He certainly had not been expecting this, not yet, not outside the controlled environment that was the strip club, and it was evident on his face, as he stuttered out a reply in broken Nanpali.
When he attempted to turn away she let loose another quick burst, placed a firm hand around his neck, pulled him close.
An incredibly awkward silence extended out between them, him just standing there pressed close against her trying to find some way to escape as his rising panic spilled over onto his face, and her sending him provocative looks in return.
He tried to be indifferent about the situation as the crowd surged around him but the longer he stood there the surer he was that something was wrong.
The perfume she wore was a heady blend of earthy scents that provoked the mind as well as something baser. It dominated everything else in a strangely enjoyable manner. It was as if his senses were dulled, as if his mind worked slower than usual and was losing its presence, and all the worries seemed to slip away along with his hesitance. She was smiling, it was all that mattered.
Somewhere nearby someone was shouting, it grew louder.
Then for a moment she looked confused, the smile was gone.
Are they talking to me or to her? He wondered still enjoying the womanGÇÖs scent. DoesnGÇÖt matterGǪ. IGǪ.
The next she was scowling as another, releasing her grip on his and shrugging him off as she mingled back with the crowd, disappearing as she latched onto another man.
The scent faded and everything seemed to come back into focus, the crowd, the smell of **** and sweat, and the dull roar that was the crowd around him as they pushed in close around him. Oddly enough no one had batted and eye at him during this exchange.
He breathed a deep sigh of relief.
GǣYou looked a little in over your head with that oneGǪ.Gǥ Came a voice from the crowd, causing Kador to glance around for its source, whoever it was they were nearby. GǣGǪ.Looked like you could use a hand Jaijii.Gǥ
GÇ£ThankyouGÇ¥ He replied, still looking around. His head hadnGÇÖt fully cleared yet and he was having trouble placing the voices owner. GÇ£Never been hit by that kind of ambush beforeGǪGÇ¥.
A sharp pat on the back drew him to his rescuer, another sigh escaping as he began to recognise the same leather jacket, and exposed midriff.
There was a peal of laughter, thenGǪ..
GÇ£Oh yup I was right, it was you.GÇ¥
"We were commanded to burn the system...We did. I mourn the loss of the innocents caught in our fires" -Kador Ouryon
|
Clockwork Jester
Namtar Elite
Gallente Federation
60
|
Posted - 2014.10.08 02:26:00 -
[42] - Quote
Galm Fae wrote:"Sierra hotel, soldier. I need a drink anyway."
GÇ£You and me both.GÇ¥
He was going to need something to help him refocus his thoughts. Being on the station brought back old memories that were probably best left forgotten. Noah had to remind himself to remain focused on the mission. The job was all that mattered, and he needed to focus, gather as much information and data as possible.
While Galm angrily carried himself into the building Noah was calm and confident. He lacked the rage or anger that Fae possessed. Although Noah supposed if his nickname was based upon a miniscule ethereal fairy from a children's tale he might be generally angry too. As it was though he refrained from allowing anger to influence his actions or decisions. He had made plenty of decisions based upon anger, with varying results.
Walking into the bar he took a quick look at his surroundings, making note of as many people as he could see, as well as possible exits. He had learned that it usually paid off to be slightly paranoid at all times, or at the very least to never trust a soul.
GÇ£Expect the worse than reality isnGÇÖt so bad.GÇ¥
It was something he always told himself, no matter how bad things got they could always be worse. Although there were times that he had difficulty imagining things being worse but he always told himself they could be.
GÇ£DonGÇÖt clean up on our accountGÇ¥ Jester muttered to himself.
He had a hard time respecting anyone that left their business in such a state. Not that he was obsessed with things being clean. Far from it, he probably spent as much time sleeping in a bed as he did in some dark alley.
Galm Fae wrote:"Saisa!" he hissed, his voice honeyed and soothing, "Saisa, saisa, saisa! A while it has been Galm!
Seriously though friend, how long has it been? Never mind that though, please! Have a seat, by all means!"
As they approached the group Jester quickly evaluated each persons threat level. The snake was actually the one that bothered him the least. He was a known factor, or at least an expected one. The old man did not bother him that much, although Noah was wary of him. It was unusual to make it to an advanced age in a hole like Snowfall. To survive that long made someone dangerous. The ones that made him the most uncomfortable were the woman. Not because of their lack of clothing, but because he had been on the wrong end of a blaster or blade wielded by similar women.
Jester did not bother responding to the repeated greeting, it was not directed towards him, although the way he spoke sounded sour to JesterGÇÖs ears, and he was pretty sure it wasnGÇÖt because of the makeup the man had applied to his eyes. The soldier would remain standing unless he was specifically asked to take a seat. His decision was based upon both paranoia and respect. |
True Adamance
Praetoriani Classiarii Templares
Praetoria Imperialis Excubitoris
13427
|
Posted - 2014.10.09 01:07:00 -
[43] - Quote
GÇ£Maneater?GÇ¥ He repeated stupidly, not really catching on to what his saviour was saying.
GÇÿYeah the kind to latches onto an innocent, spoilt, rich looking girlGǪor boy like yourself, spends the entire time with him without discussing the fee, then has her two brotherGÇÖs take his cashGǪ.or break his legs.GÇ¥ Came her indifferent response.
He looked down at her for the first timeGǪ..actually looked, not just stared.
She was of middling height, thin, with a round heart shaped face. His first thought was that she looked like a boy. He clothes werenGÇÖt exactly effeminate, as she still wore her khaki cargo pants, heavy boots, and that leather jacket zipped up to the chin, hiding, what Kador considered relative to the stripper on his card was a relatively unimpressive bust.
She also wore a shabby cap, something similar to one, bearing a small depiction of a half naked fairy with several Caldanese letters he realised. Underneath the cap a was short cut of dark hair with blond highlights that covered the ears and tapered off at the nape of the neck in a series of jagged lengths, a popular style that heGÇÖd seen around the station. Her features were small, a thin string of freckles ran across the tops of her cheeks, her mouth looked as though it was permanently set in a crooked but amused smirk, and her delicate eyes glared up at him a cold blue hue.
GÇ£ThanksGÇ¥ He replied. GÇ£I appreciate that. Whole place is a little overwhelming.GÇ¥
GÇ£No worries Jaijii, I donGÇÖt like her anyway. She cheats with that perfume yGÇÖknow, get a whiff of it and you just canGÇÖt say no.GÇ¥ Her smirk slipped a bit as she glanced around as if looking for someone. Her stance was sold, defiant as the crowd pressed in, hand in the jackets pockets, feet splayed confidently, chest forwards without the slightest indication of a hunch. She couldnGÇÖt have been more than three years his junior.
GÇ£Waiting on someone?GÇ¥ He offered politely.
GÇ£Yeah, friendsGǪ.. said theyGÇÖd stop off at one of the Drop Dens and meet me here to check out the pits. We all ordered tickets months ago. No splash zone thoughGǪ..GÇ¥ She sounded genuinely disappointed. GÇ£You were heading in right. What was it you said at CustomGÇÖs? You donGÇÖt see much action in the Empire?GÇ¥
She gestured to HawkerGÇÖs and Kador flushed a bright red.
GÇ£Damn we have a regular Choirboy right hereGǪ..what was all that attitude for AriiGÇÖs sake or something? Buy us a drink and weGÇÖll stop teasingGǪ.maybeGÇ¥
Kador felt his brow furrow. This was a whole other can of something. As grateful as he was to have been saved fromGǪ. The Maneater, as this girl called her, heGÇÖd preferred to find his own booth, bottle, and the woman on the card.
GÇ£IGÇÖd love to, really would, but I just registered, was going to the pit to check it out myself before my matches.GÇ¥ He said in half truths. GÇ£HawkerGÇÖs was justGǪ.there I guess.GÇ¥
She flinched as he mentioned that heGÇÖd registered. Taking a visible step back, collapsing back in on herself, the smirk replaced, lips now a pale, drawn line, eyes looking for an escape.
GÇ£NoGǪuhGǪ. YouGÇÖre joking rightGǪ. I GǪ.dammitGǪhad to pick the sociopathGǪGÇ¥
Now Kador frowned. She seemed genuinely scared of him. Was it because he was a Pit fighter? She just continued to back away from him into the crowd, bumping into a pair of reveller, causing one of the men to drop his inhaler which was promptly trampled under the crush off boots.
GÇ£*****!GÇ¥ His voice was shrill as he rounded on her, grasping at the shoulder of her jacket with spamming hands. GÇ£I fuckinGÇÖ dropped that stuff cause of youGǪ. yo-GÇ£
Before Kador could act she completely reversed the situation, turning on him, shoving him off firmly into the rest of his friends, launching a tirade of profanities at them that even the Templar in her presence could appreciate.
Time for me to leave then. He was about to leave when one of the revellers tugged at the hem of his jacket, eye wide with shock.
GǣLookGǪj-just stop her okay. Before she hits him or something.Gǥ
GÇ£Fine.GÇ¥ He shrugged the man off. A circle had formed where the young woman was verbally tearing into the man, crowds jeering and yelling for a fight, others commenting on what the woman should be doing instead. He broke the circle in two strides, pushing between a couple, and approached the pair.
GǣGǪ.. worthless sack of ****. I- whoa wait stopGǣ
He cut her short, slipping in behind her, locking his arms under her own lifting her off of the ground with ease. She struggled ineffectually, kicking at him, trying to loose herself from his grip, eventually giving up and falling still.
GÇ£You said I was a sociopath huh little one.GÇ¥ He chuckled still holding her back ignoring her protestations. The crowd dispersed in a wave of disappointed grunts and moans, and the group of revellers passed by mouthing their thanks, disappearing quickly into the masses.
GÇ£Take a walk, you wanted to see the pits right?GÇ¥
"We were commanded to burn the system...We did. I mourn the loss of the innocents caught in our fires" -Kador Ouryon
|
True Adamance
Praetoriani Classiarii Templares
Praetoria Imperialis Excubitoris
13427
|
Posted - 2014.10.09 01:10:00 -
[44] - Quote
She said nothing as he released her, but gestured for him to follow through the crowds, pointing up at a massive prefab structure that look distinctly like the loading bays heGÇÖd seen on arrival.
He wasnGÇÖt disappointed. That was all they were, a hollowed out loading bay lit up by heavy spotlights with rows of seating running right up to and surrounding on all sides a large raised platform which he assumed was what the Pit derived it name from.
It was comprised of solid concrete, cracked and stained with dark splotches, separated from the stands by heavy chain links, some bearing cruel looking spikes some an inch long, as if designed to torment the combatants.
Beside him the girlGÇÖs anger melted away and it was gone by the time they got to the arena, replaced instead with excitement as she hurried down to inspect one of the empty rings. There was a genuine excitement written all over her face, a grin that could not be dampened. He followed her at his own pace, as she flitted over from the arena to the splash zone, taking a seat and staring up into the heavy flood lights, hand sheltering her eyes.
Kador took a seat next to her, admiring the view from the GÇ£splash zoneGÇ¥ contemplating grimly that it could well be his blood that was being paid for by those twisted enough to enjoy such seating arrangements. He glanced down, slowly reaching down, returning with what he identified as a molar, partially cracked, clenched in his hand.
His savoir saw what heGÇÖd found and flew into a whirlwind of excitement letting loose and appreciative whistle.
GÇ£Whose is that?!GÇ¥ She yelled at one of the arena maintenance crewmen, squealing with delight when it turned out to belong to a well know fighter. GÇ£IGÇÖm so jealous.GÇ¥
The Amarrian handed it over wordlessly. The trophy was something he was glad to be rid of, and it seemed to make the girl happyGǪin her own twisted way, and broke the ice between them.
GÇ£So I guess IGÇÖm all right after allGÇ¥
GÇ£Guess so.GÇ¥ She replied indifferently, inspecting the molar, polishing it against her jacket before popping it into the breast pocket. GÇ£How bad can a Choirboy be?GÇ¥
He sighed. It was difficult talking to her when she was like this.
GǣRightGǪ..well I-Gǣ He started before he was cut off.
GÇ£Had you look yet?GÇ¥ She asked casually, still not looking at him. GÇ£I need a drink. I gotta buy ya one for this yGÇÖknow.
"We were commanded to burn the system...We did. I mourn the loss of the innocents caught in our fires" -Kador Ouryon
|
Galm Fae
Eskola Ergonomics
331
|
Posted - 2014.10.09 07:06:00 -
[45] - Quote
Galm took a deep breath, letting the situation truly sink in for a moment as Grabarc motioned vigorously for him to take a seat. Noah continued to stand respectfully, knowing when it was his place to be acknowledged. Galm had a deep respect for the man, and was glad to have him at his side. The exact circumstances of their first encounter were uneasy to say the least. The man had actually come to Galm with a contract for a deep space salvage operation in wormhole space. What had began as a simple recovery mission quickly degraded into a nightmarish hellscape that no one was truly willing to discuss afterwards. But Jester always remained composed, a natural leader in the face of insurmountable challenges as he would quickly acertain a situation and seek out effective solutions. To say the two were cut from the same cloth would seem inaccurate. Frankly he was better than Fae, if not slightly less ambitious.
Overall, not bad for a kakku.
He smirked, dragging himself forward into a seat opposite of Zippang and his cohorts. Across from him Zippang shook eagerly, as if waiting for Galm to make the first move.
"You know," he begins after some time with a light chuckle, "When I first heard you were back in Snowfall I must say I was so damn surprised! I honestly didn't think you would have the balls to rear your head once you left. I mean, I gave you everything man! I took care of you!"
Galm grunted, leaning back in the oddly shaped yet surprising comfortable chair he found himself in.
"I took care of myself, kirjuun. Everything I had I earned in the pits. I'm thankful for the opportunity you presented me with your organization, but my fealty ended there. I was always free to leave."
Grabarc slammed down on the table, snapping his head between the girls and his aging associate.
"You see everyone! That's what I was talking about! All the stories about this ******* guy, all true! He takes no **** from nobody, not even me! I mean... After all the drugs, the money, the girls--"
"There were never any girls."
The snake seemed completely taken back, throwing himself backwards in a series of unsettling hoots and hollers as the two dancers whispered smoothly into both his ears. He started to nod faster and faster, whatever drug he was only clearly take its effect.
"Nawwww Pixy. There was one girl, remember? I thought you'd remember. Don't you remember this bar? I took you shopping out here, and I took you to this bar!"
Galm scanned his eyes across the trashed cabaret, his eyebrows hanging low as he exhales cynically. The bar was like every other piece of crap pub scattered across the station. The Silo had atmosphere, personality, and ambiance. This place was just sad. It stank of alcohol and broken dreams, a mixture all too common in Fae's life. The only difference was distinct lack of drunkards and the apparent overabundance of guards. Things began to make sense quickly in Fae's head. Using a back-alley bar tucked away in a secluded location, the perfect lack of witnesses, the occasional flash of gunmetal that would flicker of the belt of a passing bouncer.
"I don't know man, there were a lot of bars. I was ****** up then."
Grabarc kept bouncing up and down in glee, expecting that very answer. Positively candid, he dug into his pocket and pulled out a familiar vial. Galm's grip on his chair tightened immediately at the sight of it, causing him to fidget uncomfortably in place. He sets the small tube of mindflood on the table between them, beaming with anticipation.
"I read-- Well... Someone I knew once tried telling me that our brains can only remember certain things when we were in the state when we first learned them. It's got some psychology name, ancestors be damned if I know what it is! But I'm pretty sure it's the truth. I mean, I'm high all the time and I never forget a thing! I figure you take a hit and I can have a nice, rational talk with the man I used to do business with."
"Look Advir, I really appreciate it b--"
"I wasn't asking Pixy."
He eyed the vial skeptically, leaning forward and taking a hold of it. It looked so simple in the little bottle, masking the evil that hid inside. Taking mindflood was always a gamble of course, providing a high like no other with no concrete guarantee that you'd ever come back down. Sometimes it made Galm feel like a god, other times it left him drooling in the street for hours on end. As an immortal it was of little consequence, never actually doing any permanent damage aside from the reoccurring nightmares brought on by a few bad trips. Even then, he wondered what Grabarc's endgame was. Was he trying to make Fae passive? Maybe keep him so doped up he never wanted to leave again? That was, of course assuming it was mindflood at all and not cut with some exotic poison or truth serum. Eventually he grabbed the tube of liquid and unscrewed the top, carefully lifting it to his nose and letting a small dose waft in. It was painful and disorienting, but damn did it feel good when it hit his brain. Everything seemed brighter, every movement felt better, and everyone seemed so very beautiful. He let the small amount settle, closing his eyes as it took hold.
Grabarc jumped on the opportunity, slapping one of the women hard on the thigh to signal it was time for her to move. She shot forward over the table and into Galm's lap, taking hold of his arm as he drew an knife and pressed it firmly against her though. With a woman's touch she pushed his hand further back, forcing him to take a larger and large dose before the fluid spilled out of the tube outright and onto the mercenary's face. At first he thrashed about, doubling over in pain from the rush. He didn't swear or curse, instead making a series of animalistic groans and shouts as the woman held him steady. Despite attack, she began to carefully rock him soothingly as he rode out the storm and let the knife fall to the ground beside him.
Kirjuun! Uakan!
Teknikiara!
Kanpai kameitsamuu!
Ra ra ra!
> --Confirmed Badguy Cera YC116--
|
Clockwork Jester
Namtar Elite
Gallente Federation
62
|
Posted - 2014.10.09 15:29:00 -
[46] - Quote
Jester had to give it to the man, he was certainly quite the character, he played his chosen role quite well. The soldier realized that what bothered him the most about the man was not his outward appearance or actions, but what they hid. He was a manipulator, and a deceiver, capable of pushing, and pulling, and twisting people and situations to his advantage. Noah had met a number of men who were similar, although most of them lacked his garish flare. It was impressive and disturbing that he managed to retain control of a place like Snowfall. Noah could only assume he had retained that control through a mixture of fear, respect, and manipulation of the masses. It was no simple task to control the mostly unchecked mass of humanity that thrived on the station. It was not something an ordinary man would have been capable of.
Knowing that Jester was aware the effects of removing him would have. Even if they didnGÇÖt blow the station to the other side of the cluster it would most likely tear itself to pieces in short order. The various factions would all be struggling to gain control, and given how Grabrac had most likely controlled them left no one with a discernable advantage. Even if the station did not rip apart it would most likely never attain its current glory, (if you could call a decrepit seething pit of a place such) it would only be a shell of its former self. The station would fall into chaos, which Noah found to be funny considering the dual meaning of the word in Napanii.
While Grabrac and Galm were speaking Noah remained standing, his arms hanging loosely at his sides, with his weight resting mostly on his slightly bent right leg. There were more guards than he had seen on his initial cursory exam of the bar, not an encouraging sign.
Galm Fae wrote:"Look Advir, I really appreciate it b--"
"I wasn't asking Pixy."
GÇ£So much for a pleasant and civil conversationGÇ¥ Noah thought to himself
Not that Noah was really expecting a calm or tension free conversation to take place. Giving who they were dealing with and FaeGÇÖs apparent relationship with the man he expected the worse. And while the conversation had not yet degraded to physical negotiations they were heading down a bothersome path, which Noah had no intention of interfering in. For the time being he would allow things to play out.
Although he had no intention of interfering the sudden movements of one of the women caused NoahGÇÖs left hand to twitch reflexively. It was a sudden flexing of his hand and fingers, he managed to catch himself before he drew a weapon. Technically Galm was an immortal, so even if he was attacked it meant little to his survival. Unfortunately though Noah knew from experience that poison and ODGÇÖing were both largely unpleasant ways to go, but at the moment that was GalmGÇÖs choice and Noah had decided that he had no right to intervene.
|
Thal Vadam
Praetoriani Classiarii Templares
Praetoria Imperialis Excubitoris
37
|
Posted - 2014.10.09 21:11:00 -
[47] - Quote
"Thel Vandamee"
said Thal to the pit administrator. The man was still rubbing his broken nose he received from Junko, and he used his other hand to gesture to the entrance to the pit fighter pins. The crowd got steadily smaller as Thal got to the pins. He had lost track of Junko, but assumed she could handle herself. He walked up to a guard at the entrance to the pin.
"I'm here for the fights, I'm a contestant."
The guard glared at Thal and gestured to the door. Thal entered and the first thing he noticed was the stench of death. They must have been pilling the bodies of the dead fighters somewhere down there. The room was like a long hallway, with small barred windows that Thal assumed looked out onto the arena floor. The blood dripping down from them was quite the confirmation of that theory.
There were many different fighters from all areas of the cluster gathered around, preparing themselves for battle. He noticed a large number of Minmatar, mainly Brutor, were competing in the pits, fewer Gallente and Caldari, and no Amarr. This fact didn't surprise him, Amarr weren't known for their enjoyment of arena deathmatches. As Thal watched the fighters prepare themselves, a shrill voice came from behind him.
"Mr. Vandamee?"
Thal spun around to see a very young Caldari woman. She looked like an arena fighter herself, with all the cuts and bruises, and he would have thought she was, if it weren't for her "staff" badge
"Yes, that is me."
"Your up next cutie"
Thal frowned. He had no idea why the females of this station kept refereeing to him as being attractive.
"So soon? I just walked in"
"There was a quick opening, some fool chickened out and ran. And so you get his spot"
"Very well, where do I go?"
The woman pointed to a door at the end of the hall. Thal sighed, and walked over to the door. It opened to reveal a lift that led up to the arena floor, a dead body was laying in the lift's corner. Thal shuddered and walked in. The door closed behind him and the door above him opened. Light flooded in and Thal was momentarily blinded. He could hear a thunderous cry that kept gjetting louder and louder. As Thal opened his eyes, the lift had reached the top. He was standing on the far north side of the pits, the sound he heard was coming from the crowd. They cheered and screamed for blood and death. A voice from an intercom system boomed over the crowds.
"LADIES AND GENTELMAN, WELCOME TO THE INFAMOUS PITS. HERE, YOU WILL SEE MORE BLOOD, GORE, AND VIOLENCE THEN YOU WILL EVER HOPE TO SEE FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIFE. OUR FIRST MATCH IS BETWEEN OUR LATEST ENTRY, THEL VANDAMEE. OUR ONLY AMARRIAN FIGHTER SO FAR, BUT WILL HE LAST AGAINST HIS FOE?OUR CHAMPION FROM LAST YEAR, YOU KNOW HIM, YOU LOVE HIM, LOK DORMA!"
The crowd went into a mad frenzy at the sound of the name Lok Dorma. It was a shock to Thal he was going up against the champion so soon into the fights. As the door of his opponent opened up, Thal's mouth dropped open slightly. It was the Brutor he knocked out earlier, there was still blood stains on his clothing and dripping from his mouth.
"YOU! I'M GOING TO MAKE YOU PAY FOR WHAT YOU DID TO ME!"
Thal wales out into the middle of the arena and assumed a low combat stance.
"I'd love to see you try ugly."
Thal through off his cloak and robe and motioned for the Brutor to attack. The beast let out a loud roar and charged at Thal, pure madness in his eyes. Lok jumped into the air and tried slamming himself into Thal, but Thal gave a quick side step and evaded that attack. He gave Lok a moment to recover
"You're the champion? You really need some standards around here." Said Thal in a jocular tone.
Lok wasn't having any of it, and started throwing punch after punch at Thal. Thal effortlessly evaded or blocked each attack, Lok's impressive muscle mass would be dangerous, if it didn't slow him down so much. Thal leaped into the air and kicked his foe in the face. As Thal landed on the ground, Lok came up behind him and grabbed Thal in a lock around his neck. Thal struggled to breath but he started laughing
"WHAT'S SO FUNNY BASTARD? I AM ABOUT TO KILL YOU."
Thal slammed his elbow into Lok's lower body multiple times
"Kidney punch, kidney punch, kidney punch, and pause....kidney punch!"
Lok fell to the ground, he could hardly breath he was in so much pain. Thal walked up to Lok, and grabbed him by the neck.
"Nothing personal my friend, we're clones after all so you'll be fine."
Lok coughed
"Tell me who you are, so I can find you and kill you."
Thal said in a quiet voice
"My name is Thal Vadam, and I look forward to our next battle"
Thal added a bit more pressure with his hand, and broke Lok's neck. The crowd stared in awe for a brief moment and then cheered. The announcers voice returned.
"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN IT IS OVER! THE CHAMPION HAS FALLEN! GIVE IT IP FOR THEL VANDAMEE. BUT CAN THEL GET TO THE FINISH? STICK AROUND AND FIND OUT. GET BACK TO THE PENS THEL, WE'LL SEE YOU SOON!"
Thal returned to the lift and it carried him back down. He walked to a area with some form of beds and fell down. He needed to rest if he was going to keep going.
"The Enemy has no idea of your true power. Let us show them! Thal to his men during the siege of Huola
|
Galm Fae
Eskola Ergonomics
335
|
Posted - 2014.10.10 06:50:00 -
[48] - Quote
The pain was excruciating, like he had just snorted a palm full of broken glass. It cut deep into his brain, sending shock-waves through his system as neurons fired one after another in an electrical surge. Death, for a brief moment, seemed like a much more preferable alternative than to let the drug rocket through his mind. Eventually it all subsided, and the world went dark. Nanites rushed to repair the damage, but it seemed no use. Galm's lifeless body hung there, still convulsing in the arms of the woman on top of him.
Then sometime else awoke inside of him. A single spark in the back of his head grew into a fireball, jump starting his body as the fire inside took control. His head rose, his eyelids rolling back until a set of piercing eyes began to bore right into hers. He raised his hand, placing it on her cheek. He let it hand there for a moment as she rolled into it, letting him feel her. He grinned, happy to feel so very alive. The fire continued to burn and burn inside him as a series of throaty laughs began to leak out of him. The air seemed cool in his lungs, but unbearably warm against his skin. Every flashing strobe had some implicit meaning that couldn't be put into words. Even if he could, he began to doubt that anyone he spoke to would be able to truly understand just how remarkable the world had become. It made him feel more than human, like he was above the restrictions of our universe. At long last, he was free.
He slid his hand behind the woman's head, using his other to trace every little scar on her form. When he felt he had observed every interesting part of her, he quickly found it unbearable to be in her presence any longer. He grabbed hold of her thick hair, casting her aside with a powerful tug. She flew off the chair in a painful shriek, falling backwards as a knot of hair ripped free of her scalp to dangle in Fae's palm. Grabarc began to applaud as the other woman rushed to pull her to her feet, limping away from the soldiers.
"See! Doesn't that feel so much better?" he barked madly.
"I feel... Like I'm on fire," Galm forced out through a series of deep growls, "I like it."
Now Galm was vibrating just as fast as Grabarc, nodding uncontrollably at the man with his eyes fully dilated. He pauses for a moment, sniffing the delicate perfume on the knot of hair in his fist.
"Now that's the Pixy I know! Do you remember yet? I took you here after you won your first fight! You put on the best show I had seen out of anyone since YC110, and I let you have pick of the whole house! You could have had any girl you wanted!"
It was a memory he knew well, but he tried so hard to forget. He did all he could to force it down, even though at one point he had seen that as the happiest day of his life. It was so simple then, viewing everything through a bottle. Nothing made sense, but it did't have to as long as all the cards fell into place nice and neat. He wished he had known before. He wish he could have done something then.
"Yeah... I remember."
The hair in his hand was so soft, so smooth.
"Damn right man!" Zippang bleated, "But you told me none of these girls were your type! Then you saw her! A real 'girlfriend' sort drinking alone back here. I gotta admit, I was saving that little flower for a high roller but you seemed so insistent on meeting her! And boy did you two hit it off! Tell me, was the sex good? Because the two of you were practically joined to the hip after that! It all worked out so well too, you kept fighting and I promise her you'd be her only client. Storybook ending really. Then you left of course... Needed to find a lot of other men for that one, just to keep her marketable. Needed to get her broken back in, right, seeing how you'd eh... Well, worn her in a bit. Had it in her head she was worth anything more than that bar and some luck bastard's happy ending. **** like that's hard to train out of a girl."
It was all so easy for him to say, like it was all just business. Gods and spirits, if he had known... If she had at least told him from the start! It didn't need to end like that, but her damn pride kept him from ever catching on. He spent long nights awake, wondering why she never told him. It finally dawned on him in his intoxicate state that they had something so remarkably pure that she refused to let the reality of New Eden taint it. Niina was always oddly romantic like that. A hush fell over the room as Galm realized he was breathing remarkably heavy, his pants echoing off the steel walls against the dull bass of the club.
"Pixy... I gave you so much with that girl, and then you threw it all away when you left. And then you come back, and the first thing your people do is trash the place?"
"The Templar was meant to be a gift," Galm began to interject, "A first generation Templar was suppose to be my way of saying sorry. He'd be a hell of a crowd pleaser, and a faithful slave. I was mistaken."
"Oh no no my boy! It was a fantastic idea! But as the record stands you've drawn blood and that needs to be repaid. I ought to kill you and the Templar for what you did... But that all seems to pointless! What does bloodshed do for immortals? No no, I forgive. For example!--"
He places his arm on the shoulder of his aging guess, who was now painfully aware of the fact that he had no business in this meeting.
"Just look at Mister Gansu here! Gansu has been in charge of the Diamond back for... How long has it been now?"
He opens his mouth to speak but Grabarc's finger presses his withered lips shut.
"Shhhhhh, no need to tell me. Longer than I've been in charge here, I can tell you that! Recently, I've noticed a bit of a decline in the quality of this establishment! I suppose the man figured that now that the Silo is no longer operational lower his standards and people will be force to pay."
Kirjuun! Uakan!
Teknikiara!
Kanpai kameitsamuu!
Ra ra ra!
> --Confirmed Badguy Cera YC116--
|
Galm Fae
Eskola Ergonomics
335
|
Posted - 2014.10.10 07:23:00 -
[49] - Quote
Mister Gansu was looking incredibly worried now, eyeing the bouncers as they paced back and fourth around the room like sharks at the sent of blood on the waves. He tried stand up and leave, but Grabarc was quick to pull him back into his seat, laughing hysterically has he patted the man playfully on the chest. He looked pleading at Zippang, and then at Fae. When he made eye contact with Pixy, his entire world seemed to come crashing around him. He tried to speak, but all he could manage was a series of guttural sobs has he groveled in Grabarc's arms. He tried to shake free from the pirate with little success, eventually turning towards CJ. It was the first time either had so much as acknowledge the Gallente, oddly fitting now that he was the only man in the room that could save is hide. His eyes, wide and watery, were filled with a infinite helplessness that should never be seen on the face of such an elderly and outwardly dignified man.
It mattered little. He was just another rat, trying to flee a sinking ship.
Galm's mind was still heavily dampened, relying on Grabarc to truly piece the rest of the scene together.
"Now Mister Gansu here has, for lack of a better term, shafted me. I have big plans for this place, none of them involve a club in such a state of disarray! I mean... Have you taken a look around? It's a mess! But you know what? I'm a forgiving guy. Just like I'm going to forgive you Pixy, I am going to forgive him. I'm not going to kill you, and I am not going to gut this old baka. But you see, reperations still need to be paid in full! Blood for blood, and cash for cash. My solution is threefold!"
He used his free hand to make a wide, sweeping motion across the club.
"This flake's little old life is worth more than he can pay me for the price of this establishment. He winds up dead, I claim the place via imitate domain, I can regain the profits lost on renovating this place and finding new management by the income it generates. You know halfbreed, regular Caldari business practice. You cleave him appart, you repay the blood you owe me. Not only that, but once you've done that to prove just how sorry you are for leaving me I'll offer you the best setup this side of the Perimeter. You want to get back into fighting here? Okay, but you do it for me like the good old days. You do that and I'll be more than willing to pay you the price of the Templar, with even more money from all those winnings."
"The templar is free," Galm found himself shouting, a wide smile playing across his lips, "Like I said, he was a gift."
Grabarc cocked his head, eyeing Jester carefully.
"Right... So this guy is... Just part of your team? Customs told me you brought a whole ship of spooks with you. Well I'll tell you what, I'd be more than willing to buy out your team and make the five of you the most powerful soldiers in Snowfall. That's the gods' honest."
"No fine print? No dues to pay?"
"Son, whatever you want you'll have. I treat my people well. You want a house, you got a house. Someone giving you trouble? I'll see them dealt with. Got any debts? Consider them wiped. And all you have to do is take this first step."
He grabbed Gansu by the chest and threw him off of his chair, sending him rolling over the table between them and onto the floor as the surrounding bouncers cheered in excitement. The promise ran laps in Galm's head. All debts, wiped. It was certainly enticing.
"You got a weapon on you bro?" the guard from before asked, openly brandishing his freshly drawn pistol.
"Yeah," Pixy barked, bending over to pick up the knife he had dropped, "A bomb. A big ******* bomb."
Grabarc applauds once again, obviously entertained.
"This guy! This beautiful, beautiful guy! I can't wait to do business with you again, and with your Gallente friend! Now if you'll excuse me I promised I would have nothing to do with killing this man. I will take my leave, and will see you bright and early at the games tomorrow Fae-haan! We are going to make a lot of money together!"
He strolls out, practically dancing as his guards follow him through the small steel door. In no time at all the only people left in the club are Pixy, Jester, and the sobbing old man in the endless beat of the club.
Kirjuun! Uakan!
Teknikiara!
Kanpai kameitsamuu!
Ra ra ra!
> --Confirmed Badguy Cera YC116--
|
Clockwork Jester
Namtar Elite
Gallente Federation
62
|
Posted - 2014.10.10 20:55:00 -
[50] - Quote
Noah didnGÇÖt much like being called a spook. Although at the moment he was acting in a similar capacity. The soldier viewed the term with a negative connotation. To him a spook was someone who gave the illusion of trust while working towards some secret agenda. A spook was not just someone he could not trust but someone he expected to attempt to stab him in the back if he or his team interfered with their objective.
GÇ£DonGÇÖt much care to be called a spook,GÇ¥ He thought to himself. Given the current situation he could not voice his opinion on the use of the word.
With only the three of them left in the club Noah finally let out a sigh, and his shoulders visibly dropped as he lowered his head. He felt foolish for expecting the meeting to go smoothly, and without any issues. The soldier felt like he should have seen it coming sooner, not that kicking himself over it was going to change anything. All that was left was to make a decision. On the one hand they could kill the man, after all it was the simplest solution. Just adding another body to the stations count. Or they could allow the man to live, to escape and possibly gain an ally. That option also presented with a large number of potential problems. If they allowed him to live and Grabrac found out that would be the end of the game.
Jester approached the seated Fae, and placed a hand on his shoulder.
GÇ£Give me the damn knife,GÇ¥ He actually took it from him while he asked.
No matter the decision they were about to make Noah felt that the one to make it should at least be clear headed, which Fae certainly was not. Besides, making the decision to end a mans life while you were high could lead to other complications later.
GÇ£You shouldnGÇÖt be trying to make a decision in you condition anyways.GÇ¥
As Noah was mulling over his options the knife was twirling around his right hand, something he did while he was thinking. Although he did not like the options that were given to him he was relatively quick in coming to a decision. The twirling of the knife ceased, he had made up his mind, and turned his attention to the cowering old man.
The whimpering Gansu was a pitiful sight. A man who had managed to survive so long was reduced to begging in between sporadic fits of sobbing.
GÇ£I know you donGÇÖt want to hear it from me, but you really only have yourself to blame old man. You made a mistake, after so many years of managing to survive you made the fatal mistake of becoming complacent. Something you and I both know you had managed to avoid for so long.GÇ¥
In their line of work becoming complacent meant becoming vulnerable. If you ever got to the point that you felt comfortable, that you thought you were safe, was the point you had lost your edge. The worse part was that it provided you with a false sense of security. It made you feel like you had earned the right to be comfortable, to believe that you were better than you really were. It created a false reality. Even now as an immortal, one with multiple lives Noah was desperately struggling against it. Life, especially one with no end in sight was hard when you were constantly pushing yourself to be better simply so you did not stagnate, did not become vulnerable, did not become weak.
Noah pulled a pack of clove cigarettes out of his pants pocket with his free hand, shook one out and pulled it out of the container with his mouth. There was only one left. Noah had spent the majority of his time on the Crow lost in thought and smoking.
GÇ£You smoke?GÇ¥
Noah offered the man a cigarette, it could have represented a peace offering or a final indulgence before he came to his end.
Gansu nodded slowly, and accepted the last cigarette, and the light that Noah provided. He lit the old mans first before lighting his own. Both men took a long drag, Noah stared off into the distance for a brief moment. Gansu knew what was about to happen, the decision had already been made, he stopped his whimpering and pleading. There was no point in trying any longer. A soft crackle and sickly sweet scent filled the air.
Noah kneeled next to the old man and gently placed his hand around the back of GansuGÇÖs neck. In a seamless motion Noah slid the knife between the mans 4th and 5th rib, the 4th intercostal space, at a slight angle. The knife easily punctured through the muscle and cartilage and through the soft tissue of the lungs. Gansu made a soft hissing noise as the air trapped inside was suddenly released. The old man shook for a moment from the sudden jolt of pain. The cigarette fell from his mouth and rolled into the gathering pool of blood. The cigarette continued to burn as the manGÇÖs life faded away. NoahGÇÖs head was right next to the dying mans.
GÇ£It will only hurt for a bit, only until your lungs fill up with blood.GÇ¥
Noah had effectively sentenced the man to a death by drowning. The old man knowingly nodded, tears starting to form in his eyes. The old man had fought so long to survive because he was so afraid of death, Noah knew the feeling.
GÇ£My name is Jester, and donGÇÖt worry, I will be seeing you soon.GÇ¥
Jester laid the man on the grown as his lungs filled with blood, his vision faded. The lack of oxygen was shutting his brain down. Jester used the man's shirt to wipe off the knife. At the very least the man deserved to know the name of the man who had taken his life, Noah owed him that much.
Placing the knife in his back pocket Noah turned his attention from the dying man and back to Fae, grabbing the high mercenary by his elbow and pulling him to his feet.
GÇ£Lets go, we need to find a place that is safe for you to come down off your high.GÇ¥ |
|
|
Vyzion Eyri
The Southern Legion
Final Resolution.
2497
|
Posted - 2014.10.11 12:47:00 -
[51] - Quote
Vyzion gritted his teeth, seething with anger.
A few minutes previously, Ritae and Leena had led him to the clinic. He had blanched and asked whether it was the right spot. Only here could something so decrepit, run-down and unhygienic be called a clinic. Situated between two beefy stores selling merchandise for the gladiator matches (Blood-siphoning goggles for the splash zone, electronic neon placards with names of favourites, and lots of drugs), the clinic could have been any colour in the visible spectrum in its hayday, but right now it was the colour of... well, ****. The walls had a similar consistency too, and the whole double-story, square building was unadorned and drab, the only indication that this was the clinic at all was the copious amount of blood, faeces and vomit around the entrance, forming a disgusting moat of human bodily fluids around it. The drawbridge, as it were, was a mat placed on top of three rotting corpses; a horde of flies guarded the entrance. The medic felt faint as he watched the two girls leap over the corpses and inside.
He followed. Surprisingly, the inside was a little better. Half the grey floor tiles, at least, weren't covered in some form of excrement. Beds lined the walls of the whole first floor, forming a grid for nurses and doctors to walk, with the stairs to the second story found at the back. The beds were dressed with stained sheets, but he could still tell they used to be white, unlike some of the inhabitants of the beds. Most of them were filled, and most of the men and women lying on them seem to have gotten themselves there, and lay groaning, in various states of misery, or in some cases, extreme euphoria. As Vyzion walked towards the stairs, a guy next to him seemed to be rolling around on the rickety bed in a state of rapture, moaning in pleasure. The strange thing was he was missing an arm which was poorly bandaged, and blood was beginning to pool on the floor beneath him.
Where in the name of Balac's sanity are the staff!? Vyzion wondered.
And in answer to his twisted question, some masochistic deity sent his answer. Leena and Ritae re-appeared from upstairs, walking down with cloth, some jugs of water, and bags of some powder. Vyzion ran over.
"What do you two think you're doing, stealing medical supplies?"
Ritae stuck her tongue out at him. "No, stupid, we're nurses."
Leena didn't make eye contact. If Vyzion's eyebrows could go any further up they would've reached an orbiting Customs Office. But they did not lie. They went around, giving the patients (there must've been dozens, sharing the supplies that the two girls held in their hands) water to sip with some of the powder which Vyzion guessed was some kind of painkiller, and bandaged the most seriously injured.
Vyzion shook his head, resolving to grab some supplies from upstairs and help out. He had some time, after all, before Junko would be sent here.
He marveled at how quiet it actually was. In such an understaffed, insecure location, on a station such as this, he expected chaos and uproar around the clinic, fighting for space and medicine as doctors rushed madly to treat as many as possible. And yet, it appeared to be as calm as it can possibly be.
Then he got to the top of the stairs, and realised why. The top floor used to be some sort of medicinal storage. A dial on the wall nearby with a little green glowing screen above it Vyzion assumed to be a temperature regulator. But there was nothing worth regulating the temperature for. The whole place was ransacked. Cupboards and shelves lay in all sorts of disarray and damage. Shards of glass littered the whole floor, remains of bottles, vials and jars. Whatever was in them was either long evaporated, or had contributed to the sickly colour of the building. A clothing rack in the center of the room, miraculously, remained untouched. Vyzion slowly walked over to it, glass crunching under his feet, and picked up a white surgeon's coat. He shrugged it over his shoulders and shook his arms into the sleeves. He kept walking until he found what he was looking for. A little stash of bandages and a bucket filled halfway with water, and some packets of the white powder, all hidden under an upturned desk.
He sat on the stairs, not angry anymore, watching the two girls treat the random strangers that had no where else to go, no where left in the station, but here. A clinic, Fae had said. Perhaps there was another clinic somewhere on the station, properly equipped. Vyzion doubted it. He spotted a few extremely well-built men, most with missing limbs, laying in a corner. Foolish mortals who saw potential limitless fame and fortune in winning gladiator fights against immortals in the pits. Perhaps the only sons of struggling families, reduced to crippled youths smiling faintly as one of the girls came around with some water.
Vyzion stood up. May as well help out. He projected his voice across the room. "Leena, what exactly is that powder? Some painkiller?"
She giggled. "Kinda. It's crash."
> Quis custodiet ipsos custodes?
|
Hunter Junko
Sebiestor Field Sappers
Minmatar Republic
292
|
Posted - 2014.10.12 01:55:00 -
[52] - Quote
Hya'salia had been watching Thal's fight from the roaring crowd, observing her would-be opponent/ally and his hand to hand prowess as he fought against a significantly stronger foe. it was much better than being stuck down in the fighter pits, she mused as thal finished the brutor off. at that moment, her wristcomp beeped three times. it was a message, and none too soon.
"your up hon, meet us at the arena entrance, or suffer the consequences" the message revealed. but she felt surprisingly confident in her skill.
"time to go.." she said, as she squeezed her way down to a set of stairs that led to ground level. then took a lift down again into the fighter's pits, the stench of dried blood, ***** and general bullshit made Hya'salia want to gag for air, but she pushed on towards the lift with a caldari staff member, her arms covered in scars and bruises.
"took you long enough, hon. you all ready to go?" she quipped.
"yeah... lets get this done" hya'salia remarked, her tattoo visible from her arms as she pressed a few buttons and then stood back as the lift came down.
but when it opened, there lay the body of Thal's former foe, already beginning to turn pale, most likely about to enter a state of rigor mortis. Hya'salia couldnt help but stare at the man's eyes, devoid of life. the staff member noticed, and blocked hya'salia from her sight.
"he's immortal, as are you hya'salia-haan, dont worry about that"
"...that was still a human body" Hya'salia said as she stepped onto the lift, its doors slamming shut bewteen the two, as the feeling of vertigo signlaed to her to prepare for the fight.
"ALLLRIGHT ARE YOU READY FOR THE NEXT MATCH?!?" The announcer's voice boomed in the intercom, the faint roaring of the crowd replied back with a vitality not heard of, as hya'salia began meditating, standing completely still. her breathing slowed to a still, mentally willing herself into a combat -state of mind, honed from countless times she flung herself off an MCC, the familiar rush of adrenaline causing her to block out all the other distractions.
she was ready..
"ANND NOW OUR NEXT MATCH, TO OUR NORTH, A FIGHTER HAILING FROM THE THUKKER TRIBE, WHAT A RARE SIGHT TO BEHOLD!!! GIVE IT UP FOR HYA'SALIA JUN'KIO!!!!!"
The Lift's doors suddenly opened , hya'salia calmly walked out from it, deftly ignoring the jeers and roars of the crowd, mostly likely the male participants.she took her time to observe the other lift, its doors obscuring her opponent's silhouette.the announcer continued his introductions.
"ANNND NOW HER OPPONENT, SADLY SHE IS FEW IN BETWEEN, SHE IS ABOUT TO MEET SAAHI MALKAAN!!!"
the crowd grew louder as the lift doors, and out walked another fighter.
the man was lean, his arms corded in muscle, his distinctly caldarian features made it intimidating for others watching.
Like Thal, she walked up to the middle of the arena and assumed her fighting stance, left hand clenched , her right open in a low sparring stance. Saahi did the same, assuming a stance of his own.
"welcome" he said. his tone implied that he was a regular to the arena matches.
"Dweu, Saahi-haan" she replied in her tongue, adding the 'haan' for formality's sake.
then, to the delight of the fans, she moved first. a fist came barreling out towards Hya'salia but she dropped low and chambered her fist, as saahi's fist barely cleared her head.
as soon as she was within reach, she threw a left counter up into the man's armpit. pain exploded in the man's face, as he staggered back, unprepared for such an attack as hya'salia continued her assault, sending a barrage of fists into the mans chest, ending with an uppercut to the man's jaw, followed by jumping up and landing a powerful dropkick to the Caldarian's chest. she quickly got up, around the same time Saahi recovered from the dropkick.
then it was saahi's turn. with a roar, he sent a barrage of fists of his own, hya'salia dodged and parried as much as she can, but saahi was faster. a lightning fast right hook caught her off guard, and glanced off hya'salia's left cheek. the pain was numbed by the adrenaline in her system and so she countered, by grabbing Saahi's fist as it passed by her, and tugging it lightly, combined with the momentum of the punch making saahi lose his balance slightly.
slightly turned into a fatal mistake, as she let go, faking a left punch, but using her right, her hands outstretched as she struck the man's neck. Saahi started to stumble, and hya'salia then landed a roundhouse kick to saahi with brutal precision.
the man fell, his control over his body lost as he slammed into the ground, and the crowd roared even more , and they wanted death.
Hya'salia lowered her hands , and clasped them together, she made a silent prayer, in her tongue. Saahi looked up at her and tried to make out his question to her.
"w-what ar-are y-y-you saying?" he spat out. this caused her to stop midway, and look at him in the eyes.
" thukker tongue, it means 'Let me guide you into paradise'.... Ny't my'j dyo'as atho Wynarii' she replied.
the man smiled, and looked up to the station's roof.
"and your name? i would l-l *Coughing* love to learn your m-m-method of fighting" he said.
"Hya'salia, i usualy operate in cal-space, but look for me in the wildlands, i'll be waiting" she responded, as reached over and forcefully closed the man's eyes, and then she sent a power hammerfist down upon the man's chest. the force from the blow stopped the heart, cutting off the man's blood supply and within seconds the man was no more.
"MY,MY,MY. ANOTHER FIGHTER DOWN!!! THE AMARRIAN AND THE THUKKER BOTH CONTENDERS IN THIS BLOODSPORT WE HAVE HERE, GIVE IT UP FOR HYA'SALIA JUN'KIO!!! WILL SHE CONTINUE THIS DEADLY SPORT? AND WILL WE SEE GREAT FIGHT IN THE MAKING, LET US FIND OUT IN THE NEAR FUTURE!!!!"
as hya'sali returned to the lift, she ran a finger over where saahi's fist connected with her face.
|
Hunter Junko
Sebiestor Field Sappers
Minmatar Republic
292
|
Posted - 2014.10.12 01:58:00 -
[53] - Quote
"ow..." she said, as the lfit descended to the ground floor. she only hoped this tournament is over with, as she made her way to the resting area, caring little for another fighter already there and laid down on a bed closet to a ventilator letting the cold air coming from the vents cooling her face. |
True Adamance
Praetoriani Classiarii Templares
Praetoria Imperialis Excubitoris
13477
|
Posted - 2014.10.12 22:52:00 -
[54] - Quote
TheyGÇÖd chosen HawkerGÇÖs.
Apparently she didnGÇÖt mind that it was a strip club, or at least didnGÇÖt feel awkward there despite the line to the club being primarily compose of intoxicated young men and the occasional older gentleman out to the peep shows.
She even seemed to find the whole process of the line enjoyable enough, sharply elbowing anyone who tried to grope, laughing all the while as a pair, no older than sixteen, tried to proposition her. To her credit she made the show entertaining, twirling a lock of hair in one of the most clich+¬GÇÖd mannerisms of cinema he knew of, the Gallentean floozy.
About half way through a series of rather inappropriate comments from the boys she gestured for him to step in, which he did with great amusement, pushing between them with a grunt.
The pair evacuated the line, almost evacuated their cargo pants if Kador was any judge, ducking under the velvet cordon and taking off across the plaza to another bar.
As they closed in on the bouncerGÇÖs she became more chatting, familiar even, he supposed that molar had meant more to her than he could have known.
She must have spied the card poking out of the top of his pocket because as they approached the bouncers she snatched at it, unfolding it, taking a quick glimpse at the provocative images on it, eying him suspiciously.
GÇ£YouGÇÖll fight in Pits but wonGÇÖt even go a conversation without blushing at the mention of strippers? Unbelievable.GÇ¥
The bouncerGÇÖs waved her on without even checkingGǪ..well one of the bouncers did some checking, completely ignoring the Amarrian, who was roughly patted down and had his papers scrupulously checked.
Eventually the relented, allowing him to pass on into the club.
It was almost entirely what Kador had expected in some respects, and in others his imagination did the place a disservice.
Pressed up against one of the near walls dozens on raised catwalks extended into an area of lavish booths, tables, and barstools where dozens of customers fawned over the undulating forms of the exotic dancers. Their bodies were conditioned perfectly, the perfect blend of sex appeal and athleticism required of a professional, and each one he supposed appealed to a kind of client who would favour that dancer with their scripts.
Here and there off duty dancers, more oft than not bare breasted and with milky eyes, wandered between the booths offering their varied services to the clientele, seductively glancing at new comers or handing out their own small cards like the one that had resided in KadorGÇÖs breast pocket.
Others simply sat at the open bar waiting for them to buy them a drink or perhaps simply waited for their shifts to start, wholly uncaring as they received appreciative stares from staff and patron alike.
Beyond the main stages was a large area with another set of raised platforms, however these were packed with speakers and lightGÇÖs designed for musical entertainment and performances, the space he assumed was a dance floor. A few knots of people crowded out onto it drinks in hand moving with the rhythm heavy with bass.
Next to that comprising and entire wall of the building with niche bars, each one themed and open to the main thoroughfare through which the dancers performed and passed by on their rounds.
There were six. Three that we primarily bars Thirsty HawkerGÇÖs, cELL, and -0, a smoking room the ExecutiveGÇÖs Lounge, a Fretix distributor Breakway, and a Drop Den in The Way Down.
He glanced down at his partner as if to indicate that he had no knowledge of where to start.
She gave him a nudge and led him towards the bars at the far end of club, tugging at his shirt as one of the strippers passed by, glancing half-heartedly with distracted eyes.
She led him to the one with a sign denoting -0, the name was Sub Zero or so she told him, where they made for the bars through a crush of patrons.
The first thing he noticed as soon as he stepped foot into the area that comprised -0 was the temperature drop. It plummeted, obviously part of the draw he guessed, and left patrons breath fogging up as it left their mouths. One client resting by the bar was not even letting that be the case. He had two of the half-naked dancer is his arms alternating GÇ£sharing body heatGÇ¥ with them. If the dancers were cold they did not complain, just sipped politely at their beverages, but physically it was impossible to hide the discomfort.
GÇ£What is it?GÇ¥ She asked, leaning across the bar ordering some drinks, service for which she received instantly.
He took the proffered tray from her and they wandered out to one of a dozen high tables extending down from the ceiling and a pair of barstools. They took their seats and divvied up the drinks, her offering him a generous portion of the smaller glasses.
GÇ£This was not what I was expecting I guess.GÇ¥
GÇ£ItGÇÖs not just a strip club yGÇÖknow. Great scene in here, and reasonably safe if you donGÇÖt mind theGǪ.GÇ¥hands on approachGÇ¥ some of these guy take.GÇ¥
He raise an eyebrow, taking another one of the small alcoholic shots and draining the glass. GÇ£You like that sort of thing?GÇ¥
She shrugged, taking another sip of her drink. When she exhaled her breath was swirling mix steam.
GÇ£Sometimes yeahGǪ.. but whoGÇÖs to say I donGÇÖt come here to appreciate the female form? Some of these dancers just give me the tinglesGÇ¥ She replied sarcastically, grinning and punching at his shoulder at his thoughtful expression. GÇ£Kidding Choirboy, donGÇÖt have a fit. They have ladies nightGÇÖs every other day. Not the same level of talentGǪbut it has it proGÇÖsGÇ¥
"We were commanded to burn the system...We did. I mourn the loss of the innocents caught in our fires" -Kador Ouryon
|
True Adamance
Praetoriani Classiarii Templares
Praetoria Imperialis Excubitoris
13477
|
Posted - 2014.10.12 22:54:00 -
[55] - Quote
They passed the time in companionable conversation, swapping stories, alternating rounds during which time she introduced him to some of the bars famous Sub Zero drinks. He distinctly appreciated the stories she told, when she spoke about Shoashu Sasaanko you could tell she really loved the place. Its greasy hotels and brothels were not the shabby dives and sin filled pits he saw. Even the club, full of exotic dancers and excited male clients, were nothing out of the ordinary, nor too were the back streets where sheGÇÖd be mugged, or done her first shot of Frentix with her sisters.
He heard a lot about the place and it soon dawned on him that this was her home just as much as the small Vinyard on that tiny spit of land in the Tash-Murkon, or the Spartan apartments of the TES Eternal Flame, were his. He also spent time watching the shows, the tame ones at first, they were almost artistic in some respects, as dancers in tight-fitting leotards spun on poles some ten or more feet off of the raised catwalks.
Awkwardly enough she did too, sniggering as alcohol began to take effect, and his eyes began to wander to the less savoury, where scripts were thrown onto the stage or placed in whatever of their their scanty garments still remained.
She didnGÇÖt complain though, nor did she seem against the shows themselves, several times giving the girls deafening wolf whistles over the cheers as the shows ended, more oft than not in a display of flexibility Kador would not have thought possible.
Satja was always good at the advanced calisthenicsGǪ he banished the thought before it could take root. It was not appropriate, even in a strip club on Shoashu Sasaanko, and ever would be.
Given artificial confidence by the drinks he asked her if sheGÇÖd ever done something similar herself. She unexpectedly blushed, shrugging off the question, mumbling something about how she wasnGÇÖt cut out for it, not conditioned or pretty enough for it.
He distracted himself watching another show, as the crowds filed away from the previous one to the darker cloisters of the club to watch what she had told him were some particularly seedy peep shows.
The next round of drinks came and Kador was surprised to see two tall, thin glasses capped off at the lid. Within the frosted confines of the glasses with a billowing mass of fluorescent, almost gaudy, colours, swirling about as a gas.
He eyed her warily.
GÇ£DonGÇÖt worry ChoirboyGÇ¥ She kept using that nickname for him. He supposed it was fitting, and probably not the worst she had for him. GÇ£Just vapors. IGÇÖm not trying to corrupt you entirely yet. The station does that in its own time.GÇ¥
Yet, he considered, a wry smile appearing on his face.
GÇ£How does this all work then?GÇ¥
GÇ£Like so Choirboy.GÇ¥
She drew the glass to her mouth shivering at the chilled glass, the lip of the glass however next to her own. She glanced up, her look saying You still following me?
As he nodded back she flipped up the catch of the lid. The vapors seemed to be sucked through into the open air, wispy arms of yellow, green, purple, and pink trying to disperse into the air. She did not let them however, she drew the vapors into her mouth, flicking the lid shut, closed her eyes enjoying the sensation as the vaporised alcohol was absorbed into her blood stream.
GÇ£ThatGÇÖs it?GÇ¥ He asked, the round had been damn expensive.
She didnGÇÖt reply. Just shook her head, still wrapped up in the drink. Perhaps it was better than he would have though.
However she surprised him yet again as she leaned across the table, breaching personal space, exhaling rapidly several times.
Where normally only the white mist could be seen, now she could exhale a variety of colours, two of the clouds a rosy pink, the other a sickly green/yellow.
At this point Kador knew he had to try his own. He followed her instructions, lip of the glass to the bottom of his own, flipped the catch, and drew in a deep breathGǪ.. And entered a fit of coughing as her drew in far too much. The taste was exquisite, not like any heGÇÖd tasted before. He could understand why she was such a fan. Each vapour had its own taste and they lingered on the tongue, and they fluctuated in strengths so that every few seconds another of the vapours would become prevalent.
Even coughing was a pleasant experience.
GÇ£Take it easy. Not nearly so muchGǪ.itGÇÖs pretty strong stuff Choirboy.GÇ¥
He could tell, his vision was once again blurring around the edges, however another round was too good to pass up.
GǣKalGǪ.Gǥ He grunted in between fits. GǣI appreciate that Choirboy fits okayGǪ..but you could just call me Kal.Gǥ
GÇ£Why?GÇ¥
GǣMy nameGǪ.I have oneGǪGǥ
GǣNo I mean why Kal over Perv, Kakku, JaijiiGǪ..Gǥ She said listing a string of other nicknames.
GÇ£Right, rightGÇ¥ He placed his hands between them indicating his surrender. GÇ£I get it.GÇ¥
He lapsed back into silence, noting oddly how she glared at him from under her cap. She genuinely looked angry.
GÇ£I do something this time? Oogle the wrong person? Not stare at you? What?GÇ¥
GÇ£You know youGÇÖre a real pretentious ass Kal. Evening at a bar and you never ask your partner her name. ItGÇÖs Tahiko Mila by the way, not that you seem to care Kal.GÇ¥
He realised then that she had been right twice that night.
Firstly he hadn't asked for her name. It had never occurred to him that sheGÇÖd care to give it, nor that heGÇÖd end up spending nearly so much time conversing with her. Embarrassingly enough heGÇÖd never had much experience with women in his time, and the one time that he had heGÇÖd messed it up beyond recognition.
He mumbled his apologies looking well rebuked.
She chortled at that, ignoring him and going back to her drink, watching one of the dancers intently.
Secondly the scene was good. Despite the cold rooms of the bar the club itself was packed. Dance floors were filling up around the place as several different bands, DJGÇÖs, and other acts were starting up.
"We were commanded to burn the system...We did. I mourn the loss of the innocents caught in our fires" -Kador Ouryon
|
True Adamance
Praetoriani Classiarii Templares
Praetoria Imperialis Excubitoris
13477
|
Posted - 2014.10.12 22:56:00 -
[56] - Quote
Patrons crowded in around them, pushing to get the front row spots, carving out their own areas of space in groups where theyGÇÖd dance, sing, whisper in the ears of the acts between songs.
Lights pulsed to the beat of discordant music drowning out the conversations of the other tables. Mila was still speaking across the table at him but he could not hear a word of it. Instead he just followed her gestures nodding every now and then.
Several acts came and went, setting up, playing, tearing down leaving odd moment of calmness and quiet throughout the club. DancerGÇÖs continued throughout the night, they were the main show anyway, but their shows were only punctuated by the loud and appreciative roars.
By that time they were several more rounds down, and Kador was feeling pleasantly out of his comfort zone.
GÇ£Those friend of your sure are takinGÇÖ their time yGÇÖknowGÇ¥ He said, tearing his eyes away from a DancerGÇÖs sensuously undulating waist , glumly placing his head in his hands. GÇ£CanGÇÖ believe theyGÇÖd keep ya waiting this long Takiho.GÇ¥
GÇ£I keep telling you KalGǪGǪ.hicGǪ.sGÇÖMilaGǪ.GÇ¥ She eyed her glass suspiciously, staring down the length from rim to the base, the upended the glass, draining the few droplets that still clung to its frosty interior.
Kador rolled his eyes in an exaggerated manner, indicating for her to continue.
GÇ£Mmmmm yeah. TheyGÇÖll either be in that Drop Lounge GÇÿntil day break or shacked up somewhere doinGÇÖ GǪ.GÇ¥Their own thingGÇ¥. Meanwhile I got stuck with the guy at CustomGÇÖs starinGÇÖ at my ass.GÇ¥ She said the last part playfully.
It was hard to simply ignore her pleasant personality, it was infectious, and he found himself playing along with the whole charade.
GÇ£Hold on a secGǪ.IGÇÖm not the one who came to the strip club to be assaulted by the clientele.GÇ¥
Now she rolled her eyes. Through the fluctuating pulses of the light show he could see she too was amused, and when one of the serving men passed by she flashed him a winning smile and ordered another round.
For the briefest of seconds he found himself almost jealous, but the passed and he chose not to act on it.
Minutes passed in comfortable conversation. She took the time to vent about her friends and he just listened quietly, appreciating a conversation that did not begin or end with him being drawn into another conflict.
Peace time was easy he decided, and it was enviable. Who would willingly want to throw themselves onto the crucible to fight and die again and again for all eternity?
GÇ£Kal?GÇ¥
GÇ£Yeah?....Sorry was just thinking yGÇÖknow.GÇ¥
Mila leaned in to the table, ignoring the severing boy as he brought their drinks, clasping her hands together just beneath her chin. She was trying to pay attention he was sure but a sudden change in the holographic displays from pop music videos to Pit fighting high lights drew most of her attentions.
Still she was at least trying to be genuine in her own twisted manner.
GÇ£About what?GÇ¥
He was baffled for a moment unsure how to answer her. He could have lied, but with the alcohol in his veins and the usually rock solid inhibitions torn down the truth was so much easier.
GÇ£Just things.GÇ¥ He replied casually, drawing a draught from his glass, appreciating how the florescent colours danced before his eyes as her sighed. GÇ£Seems like people expect a lot from me these days. IGÇÖm only here, and fighting, because someone else asked me to, and the only reason I can think off for saying yes when they asked for this favour is because someone else would want me to. Just wonder sometimes if I have an original thought in my headGǪ.GÇ¥
There was nothing for a moment, perhaps she was not listening he considered briefly, and so he returned to his drink nursing it carefully. HeGÇÖd had far too much anyway, far more than he was used to consuming in any one sitting without a meal.
He twitched suddenly as she let loose a roar of satisfaction, punching a fist into the air, then a low moan of disappointment.
Kador glanced up himself.
The displays were projecting the eveningGÇÖs bouts, the advancing winners, and the broken forms of the losers as they were dragged off to be disposed of. With a slight hint of amusement as he recognised two of the advancing winners names, Junko, whose highlight reel showed her shrugging off a blow to the chin, and Thal, who rather viciously appeared to twist a manGÇÖs head around a full one hundred and eighty degrees.
She groaned again noting the name of the TemplarGÇÖs opponent, burying her head in her arms, making overly dramatic sobs.
GÇ£Not a fan of the newbloods?GÇ¥ He offered, still amused.
GÇ£DidnGÇÖt come tGÇÖsee the newbloods... Lok Dorma was supposed tGÇÖbe a show this yearGǪ..jusGÇÖ hitting his strideGǪGǪ just my fuckinGÇÖ luck.GÇ¥ She shot back testily.
GÇ£Other champs are here right?GÇ¥
GǣNot enoughGǪ..Gǥ
GÇ£IsnGÇÖ Pixy back? HeGÇÖs one of your favourites right?GÇ¥
Her eyes lit up for a moment, but quickly narrowed as she looked at him suspiciously.
GÇ£What makes you think that smartarse?GÇ¥
He gestured to the cap.
GÇ£Just a guess GǪ. YGÇÖknow I heard it at CustomsGǪ..guess the action back there was his work or something.GÇ¥
A frown this time.
GǣSomething wrong with thatGǪ.?Gǥ
"We were commanded to burn the system...We did. I mourn the loss of the innocents caught in our fires" -Kador Ouryon
|
True Adamance
Praetoriani Classiarii Templares
Praetoria Imperialis Excubitoris
13477
|
Posted - 2014.10.12 22:58:00 -
[57] - Quote
She sighed.
GǣNawww just me and Ameana were reallyGǪ.. into him a few years back. Tickets and everything to his gigsGǪwe uhGǪ. tried..Gǥ
She made a gestures, both hands out in front of her as though she was lifting something over her head, rolling her eyes as Kador returned a puzzled look.
GÇ£YGÇÖknowGǪ. Flashed himGǪGÇ¥
GÇ£WhatGÇÖs that?GÇ¥ He asked genuinely.
GÇ£TchGǪ.never mindGǪbut he had a girl apparentlyGǪ. Probably had lots yGÇÖknow. Pit fighters pretty much get a free ride here if they can stand the life.GÇ¥
GÇ£Niina?GÇ¥
GÇ£Who?GÇ¥
GǣUhGǪ nothing. Hey look if I see him perhaps I can get an autographGǪor a molar or something else half as exciting.Gǥ He said the last part almost sarcastically, but the offer was a genuine one.
She shrugged, obviously not placated by his offering and returned to watching the short clips of the other fights with a glum look across the visible half of her face, the rest hidden as usual by the single bang of black-blonde hair.
So much for a peace offeringGǪ..
GÇ£YGÇÖknow KalGǪ I was thinkinGÇÖ about what you said before. All that I donGÇÖt have an original though stuffGǪ SGÇÖall right if you donGÇÖt want to do it. No one can tell you what to do and if you donGÇÖt want to you just donGÇÖt right.GÇ¥
She barely looked down from the displays which she followed intently, sky blue eyes following each punch, closing briefly at the moment of death then opening eyes dilated and drinking in the deathblow.
GǣYeahGǪI-Gǣ
GÇ£You donGÇÖt have to be anything you donGÇÖt want to be KalGǪ.I guess thatGÇÖs what GÇÿm trying to say.GÇ¥
Kador was shocked to silence. Word. Words he always wanted to hear, being repeated to him again. The way she said themGǪ.was so heartfelt, as if she truly believed that they were true.
He said nothing, just remained there shifting his attentions from the drink, to Mila, to the fights, the back to his drink.
He brooded for a time, unsure of what to draw from the familiar exchange. His face was a storm, those same wrinkles that permanently seemed carved into his face creased his forehead, and eyes were downcast and distant.
Another peal of laughter that reminded him of bells cut through the music.
GÇ£KalGǪ. Way to seriousGǪ. Way too serious.GÇ¥ She said laughing, slipping from the barstool, heavy boot making a muffled thumps as she circled the table. GÇ£CGÇÖmon IGÇÖm going to try danceGǪ.you canGǪ.do whatever it is you Amarrian do to make fools of themselves and glower at anyone I find distasteful.GÇ¥
And so he did, her tugging at his jacket, him with a stupid, out of character, grin across his features, and made a fool of himself.
"We were commanded to burn the system...We did. I mourn the loss of the innocents caught in our fires" -Kador Ouryon
|
Galm Fae
Eskola Ergonomics
338
|
Posted - 2014.10.13 03:03:00 -
[58] - Quote
Meanwhile...
Everything was simply amazing! Snowfall station was screaming past in a blur of multicolored flashes and garbled shouts and cheering. Galm continued to kick and holler, screaming louder at the rickshaw driver to pull the two mercenaries faster. The poor man was already clearly strained trying to keep the cart upwards on two legs, much less haul the team through the winding roads of the spaceport. He didn't question why he had found himself in a rickshaw... Frankly everything but the present seemed like an odd blur. Whenever he tried to put the parts together his head began to run into overdrive, taping broken shards of memories together until he finally decided it wasn't worth it. Frankly, it all seemed irrelevant compared to the pressing need of enjoying himself in the moment.
He looked over at his Gallente friend, who was clearly significantly less amused than Pixy seemed to be. It was curious that the pair of perfectly healthy gentlemen were relying on the poor bastard in front of them to haul across the station. The sharp shard of rational thought physically hurt, forcing Pixy to react and clench his forehead in anguish. He ran his fingers through his hair, pushing his stetson out of the way in the process. He did a double take, patting the top of his head to confirm what he though he was seeing.
Yes, he was definitely wearing a stetson now. He carefully reached up and removed the hat, reveling a deep half-healed gash on his scalp that had begun to ooze gossamer nanite-laced blood. Another deep shard came crashing into the forefront of his conscious, making him shutter in shock as a brief moment of lucidness overtook him. That was right... He couldn't walk... At least not very well. Jester had tried to move him out of his seat... And when Galm tried to move he had tripped over Gansu's body. There was enough time to utter a single curse, then he fell forwards and busted his head open on a strip-pole. He leaned backwards, laughing so hard he found it hard to breath as the driver of the cart looked back at the soldier condisendingly.
"Hey hey hey... Wait a minute brah," Pixy started to stagger leaning uncomfortably close to Noah, "That's right, you killed Gansu, for me! Duuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuude... That was cold."
He leaned back, shaking his head.
"Ice cold. Like... Wow... That was ******* awesome! Can you do that again? Can we kill the driver!? C'moooooooon, I wanna see you kill something! That was... Like... Black Eagles stuff back there! A-- Are'ya'black'gle? Are'ye'ya? Cause'that'd be pretty ballin' if I say so m'self guyyyyy. Hey. Hey. Noah. N-n-n-n-no no no no nooooooo-ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Noah? NOAH!"
The last shout came out so loud it made the drive jump slightly as he went along his way, shaking his head.
"Noah?... I'm sorry. I just love you so much man. Y'ra good friend."
Pixy reached out and pressed his nose onto the Gallentes, making a single meeeep sound as he retracts it. He smiles boldly and leans back, extremely content with himself. He started to dig through his own pockets, needlessly tossing aside anything he didn't find immediately stimulating. Some lower-value ISK chits, a number of photographs of girls he had never seen before labeled 'Hawkers'-- An odd name for a girl, much less five. Hawkers must have been a popular name on the station twenty years ago-- poker chips, machine coins, robotic eye (he kept that), and a large three pound tube of unprocessed rock salt. He wasn't entirely sure where the carriage was going, but it was apparent that they had already been around the block a fair few times in downtown snowfall looking for it. Which was concerning! They had a match to fight tomorrow! They needed to find some place to sleep!
Wait. No. Yes? No. No! That was what the two were looking for, a place to stay! Another serrated memory burrowed into Pixy's head, this time slightly less painful than before. The mindflood was clearly wearing off, which meant he needed to find someplace with a functioning toilet and mattress immediately before the nausea and subsequent crash took it's toll. The mere though of the horrible after affects on a high like that was enough to make him a little sick, bending over in the cab and threatening to unload the contents of his stomach onto Jester's boots.
"We're going to one of the hostel, right? Pretty sure I mentioned that. Grabarc has them all over the city, giving out hot meals to teenage kid's. It's a roof over their head, gets them a job causing some trouble, so on and so forth. Place is a pirate factory... But nice enough if you're into that non-profit stuff. Should be cozy in there! We could share a bed together! Hoooow romaaaaaaantic! Hahahahaaaah! I'm kidding kakku... I wouldn't want to throw up on your chest or nuthin' when I'm cuddling with you! Kidding again, buddy! I don't do dudes dude!"
Gods and spirits, his words just didn't end! They flew forwards like the waters of life, line after line of ingenious material that Jester was fortunate enough to overhear. He just wished someone was writing down what he was saying or checking his flow, like those Brutor rap's he'd listened to back when he was younger. Oh gods, rapping sounded fun! He need to start rapping that instant! He started with a few head bobs, kicking his feet to the beat before breaking out in song in his seat.
"Running, running, we be runnin' runnin', through snowfall baby? Hellhole? Maybe! But fear no viper, long short tall, me n' my crew gon' **** em' all. Fuckin' all, **** the law. Concord don't know we know how to ball. CJ here? He know how we do! I write this verse from me here to y-- OH LOOK WE'RE HERE!"
The rickshaw came to a rapid haul, practically tossing the soldiers from the vehicle. The man practically threw himself from the bar, bracing himself against a nearby wall as he dug madly for a cigarette.
Kirjuun! Uakan!
Teknikiara!
Kanpai kameitsamuu!
Ra ra ra!
> --Confirmed Badguy Cera YC116--
|
Galm Fae
Eskola Ergonomics
338
|
Posted - 2014.10.13 03:13:00 -
[59] - Quote
"Soldier!" the Jin Mei screamed at them in broken Napanii, panting heavy, "I take you here! You take slug and go now! You go now!"
Slug?
Galm slowly lowered himself out of the cart, looking at the rear hitch. There sat a massive fedo, easily 200 pounds pouring over the sides but held in place with a series of crude lashes. Noah shot him a spiteful look, assuming Galm knew exactly why they had picked up such a vial creature along the way. He blinked and everything clicked. Mostly anyway.
Ah, he decided, That's what the tube of salt was for. Damn, that would have been a sight to see.
The two bickered for quite some time, debating who would be the exact one to remove the fedo from the cart. Eventually Galms irrationality won out over Jesters will. Regretfully the poor Gallente dragged the slug to the street corner and tied it off to a nearby bicycle rack, assuming someone would come by and take it for whatever reason. It wasn't either of their concerns what that reason might be, but it would probably be better than being salted to death.
When all was said and done the two charged the hostel, exchanging broken words with the local manager. Galm got about halfway through the conversation with the poor woman before eventually losing all interest and collapsing to the floor, leaving his comrade to deal with getting the pair a room and a hot meal.
Kirjuun! Uakan!
Teknikiara!
Kanpai kameitsamuu!
Ra ra ra!
> --Confirmed Badguy Cera YC116--
|
Clockwork Jester
Namtar Elite
Gallente Federation
63
|
Posted - 2014.10.17 21:29:00 -
[60] - Quote
With a high, concussed, and probably unconscious Galm resting on the less than sterile floor Jester took over the task of procuring a room. He had just finished working out the details when Fae started to regurgitate the contents of his stomach all over the floor. Noah let out a heavy sigh, it was going to be a long night.
Galm Fae wrote:GÇ£When did I drink Quafe?GÇ¥
GÇ£You kept telling me it was the greatest drink ever, you downed nearly a whole case of the crap. That and you wouldnGÇÖt stop eating some weird stew IGÇÖm pretty sure was made from fedo, or at least thats what it smelled like.GÇ¥
Noah helped Galm to his feet, ignoring the smell, and guided him to the room. The room was bare, two small beds, a single old chair, two tables, and a community bathroom. On the upside they had a decent view.
GÇ£Get yourself cleaned up. IGÇÖm going to make something to eat.GÇ¥
Noah left Galm to his own devices for a few minutes while he left to use the community kitchen, making sure to lock the door as he left. While Galm was dragging them around the station Noah had managed to gather a few supplies. He needed Fae to eat something, or at least try. There was little doubt in NoahGÇÖs mind that anything the man consumed would not be staying in his stomach for long. Nevertheless he would make something to eat.
Noah returned several minutes later with two plates of curry and rice. He was by no means an expert chef, but he was capable of making a few things. It was a simple meal, but one that he hoped Galm could actually keep down. He set both plates down on one of the side tables.
GÇ£It might not taste great but you should try to eat it. IGÇÖm more worried about you becoming dehydrated though.GÇ¥
Noah pulled an IV kit and several solution bags out of a plastic bag he had brought up earlier. He pulled the chair up to the bedside and quickly wrapped a tourniquet around FaeGÇÖs left forearm. Thankfully the clone had decent veins so finding one wasnGÇÖt much of an issue. Without a word of warning Noah inserted the 20 gauge needle into his vein. He waited for blood return before flushing it and tapeing it down. He attached it to tubbing and hung the IV bag on the wall.
GÇ£You are probably going to **** like a horse later, but this will keep you hydrated, donGÇÖt pull it out or IGÇÖm jamming the next one someplace you wonGÇÖt like.GÇ¥
Just as he was finishing up with the IV there was a light knock on the door. Noah drew his bolt pistol and took aim at the door.
GÇ£ItGÇÖs open.GÇ¥
The door swung open revealing a short haired brunette women of mixed descent.
GÇ£You the one who was asking about a nurse?GÇ¥
She looked more like a stripper than a nurse with synthetic body parts, and a face full of makeup. Unless she was there to pretend to be a nurse.
GÇ£Yeah. You will be taking care of him for the night.GÇ¥
Noah pointed his thumb towards Galm as he continued to wretch into a garbage can as he put his pistol away.
While Galm had been wandering around the station with no productive purpose Noah had been gathering supplies. He had also been looking for a clinic. Unfortunately the inhabitants of Snowfall had informed him that the clinic had been shut down by Grabrac a few years ago. Those that had been working there either left the station or moved on to other opportunities. After some searching he had managed to find a nurse who had been working at some place called Hawkers.
GÇ£You know I havenGÇÖt actually practiced as a nurse for awhileGÇ¥
GÇ£Its fine, IGÇÖm sure you still remember what to doGÇ¥
She only offered up a slight smile in response.
GÇ£There is some food there if you are hungry, you can spend the night here too if you want.GÇ¥
Noah motioned to the plates of food and then the second bed as he stood up from the chair.
GÇ£IGÇÖll be back in a few hours, just make sure the baka doesnGÇÖt aspirate on his own vomit.GÇ¥
With a sigh he headed for the door.
GÇ£Oh, there are a few sedatives in that bag if he gets to be too much for you. Although IGÇÖm not really sure how effective they will be on him. Lock the door when I leave and donGÇÖt let anyone else in.GÇ¥
With nothing left to say Noah let her get to her job and headed back into the chaos. There was still a number of things he needed to take care of before he called it a night.
|
|
|
|
|
| |
|
| Pages: 1 [2] 3 4 5 6 :: one page |
| First page | Previous page | Next page | Last page |