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True Adamance
Praetoriani Classiarii Templares
Praetoria Imperialis Excubitoris
13670
   |
Posted - 2014.10.19 23:53:00 -
[61] - Quote
They parted not an hour later, the acts closing down for the night, leaving the raised podiums to revel in the adulations of the frenzied crowds, while more bodies pressed onto the dance floor as the automated sound systems kicked in with more peppy, upbeat tones.
HeGÇÖd spent the better part of that hour shuffling about, in what little space he could carve out for himself, out of tempo, but grinning foolishly the entire time. He scowled at the ones she told him to, and gave her space the rest of the time.
The relationship worked for them. It was amicable but at an armGÇÖs length, her possibly holding on to the notion he was still some kind of closet pervert, and Kador knowing full well she was a diagnosed sociopath.
In the end she left him with a single sly wink, as a blonde Caldari youth supported her weight through the press of humanity and off of the dance floor. SheGÇÖd seemed to recognise the man, so heGÇÖd left her to go.
Seemed right to him as the self-induced state of elation drained away from him, replaced by a growing fatigue, though at the same time almost a perfect injustice.
Finally done with the scene he stalked over to the bar and paid the tab, a fair sum having been racked up over the course of the night between the two of them, and whomsoever theyGÇÖd purchased other drinks for, and number he couldnGÇÖt quite remember.
Typical, he considered internally, a slight smile plating across his features, I got duped.
Eventually he decided that it did no matter much. The evening had been entertaining, and fulfilled its purpose. He was on the station and they were none the wiser for it. He was just Kaldrin Oussurian, a spoilt Heir looking for a good time.
He exited the club and strode across the plaza, still buzzing with activity, great vents of steam rising into the night sky, coiling around the low hanging rail cars and eaves, dispersing amongst the gaudy reaches of the neon skyline.
He crossed the plaza heading for the tram station, it was simple enough for him to retrace his path back to the packed tram cars, now dangerously loaded as revellers looked to turn in for the night, and having had enough of the vices Shoashu Sasaanko seemed to have an inexhaustible supply of.
He glanced up at one of the overhead monitors that indicated the tram time tables, noting glumly that the next was due in a little over half an hour.
He yawned. It was later, and he was so damn tired, heGÇÖd need to find a place to rest the night until his opening bouts the following morning.
Mila had said sheGÇÖd come to those having mentioned her interest in seeing how ChoirboyGÇÖs fought in the Empire, sheGÇÖd also jokingly mentioned sheGÇÖd drop her remaining budget on his opponent, an easy bet sheGÇÖd said.
Either way the necessity of finding a flophouse was becoming apparent.
He left the station and walked back down to the plaza after questioning the tram stationGÇÖs one conscious operator, a small round woman with a pinched face, and a guttural tone that denoted a long life of substance abuse.
Despite her stand offish attitude she was very helpful once he upended the contents of his pockets onto the cashiers desk before her, several thousand ISK credit chits, and the card of the HawkerGÇÖs girl Mila had told him was named Chastity.
He left mildly put out. For all her gushing she hadnGÇÖt been able to direct him to a place he could bunk down without having to pay for a girl, something that was on a whole other level of inappropriate even despite his current surroundings.
Instead she had offered him the location of one of the stations few multi denominational and pantheonic chapels which she told him held a small shrine to the Amarrian deity, not more than a kilometre down the tram line in the Tieko slum district.
His walk was pleasant enough. Despite a few sideways glances from the residents he was left to his own devices. He passed another road side vendor and another of the small fried meat pockets and chose instead of the small liquor to go with Quafe, enjoying the taste of the mystery meat between rejuvenating sips of the sickly sweet can.
The temple was a small, ramshackle looking affair, a squat building cast in the shadow, and pushed up against one of the tram systems massive concrete struts. Its surface was scarred with all manner of stains and coloured in the brazen designs of local gang graffiti and anti-religious slogans of a nature that even appalled a partially intoxicated Kador.
He was about to enter when a man approached him from the street.
GÇ£Ah a true devoteeGÇ¥ Came a rough voice that sounded as though it had been drawn over broken glass. GÇ£Rare breed here of all placesGÇ¥.
The Amarrian simply nodded, then rose to his feet to face the new comer. He was clad in a simple almost stereotypical Caldari jumpsuit, and bore with him a small arsenal a jack-knife on his waist, and a small automatic in a dockers clutch. He was an ugly man no matter how you looked at it, weathered features pushed in together on a lopsided face with a jaw that had been broken too many times.
GÇ£Well bugger offGǪ.cleaninGÇÖ time yGÇÖsee.GÇ¥ He growled, aggressively waving at the chapel, which he could see now had a sign that read GÇ£Undergoing MaintenanceGÇ¥.
GÇ£DonGÇÖ make me kick yGÇÖer ass outta her bro.GÇ¥
He felt a spark of anger, who was this heathen to deny him from his own place of worship?
Kador grunted his response and turned to leave.
"We were commanded to burn the system...We did. I mourn the loss of the innocents caught in our fires" -Kador Ouryon
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True Adamance
Praetoriani Classiarii Templares
Praetoria Imperialis Excubitoris
13670
|
Posted - 2014.10.20 00:04:00 -
[62] - Quote
GÇ£Hey Amarrian.GÇ¥ The Caldarian, his tone sarcastic. GÇ£Gabrac met yer friendGÇÖs up at the Diamondback, says we can put you up in somewhere more fittinGÇÖ of yer LordshipGÇ¥
GÇ£Galm who?GÇ¥
GÇ£SeriouslyGǪ. That kind of shtick don fly here broGǪ Pixy, the ****** you came with today. So, bro we gonna put you up somewherGÇÖr what?GÇ¥
GǣNo thanksGǪ.. kinda like slumming it.Gǥ He replied, trying to sound calm.
GÇ£NoGǪwaiGǪlook for reals bro. WeGÇÖll put ya up somewhere nice with a girlGǪor a boyGǪ.. leave ya till the fight start. Perfect for you Amarrian.GÇ¥
Kador simply shook his head disgusted. This chapel was not to be his respite tonight.
He left wordlessly, ignoring Caldari manGÇÖs protests and headed back to the main plaza, ignoring the crowds and passing back towards where heGÇÖd seen the seedy dives on his way into the plaza.
At one point, as he turned down an alleyway, a man with the same glassy eyes of an addict tried to stop him, brandishing a knife. He dived crowing his victory as Kador tossed half a dozen ISK chits at his feet, dropping the knife in an instant, and scrounging around in the muck.
He was filth, a disgusting wretch, and the anger came boiling out in a torrent.
Kador felt a primal sense of satisfaction as his boot caught the man square in the jaw, sending him reeling back into the garbage, the chit flying out of his greedy hands and back into the muck of the alley.
He felt the same satisfaction again when he kicked the man in the gut, again, and again, and again. It was release, God knew he needed it.
By the time he was done the junkie was a huddle, shaking mess, pleading through broken teeth for help. Kador left the chits, the bastard would need them for medical work, more than the junkie deserved and significantly more than he was worth.
The drop dens were easy to find, no shortage of clientele heading to their premises for the night.
The place he chose looked to be the tamest from the exterior panelling, a simple dark sign with elegant Napali Script, he cared not for the name, or the image of the place, and it would have to suffice for now.
He chose his room from one of a dozen, received his dose of Drop, and made for the small compact cube of opaque glass, one he assumed was able to alter its visibility depending of whether or not a particular client was willing to pay enough of a fee.
The cubes were simply arranged into a line pressed up against one another so that they shared their walls and to his disgust he noted that the glass was opaque enough to make out the forms of his neighbours as they revelled in the flesh.
He tore his eyes away from one particularly unashamed couple pressed up against one of his walls, trying to ignore them as best he could. Thankfully the cubes were sound proof and he was not subject to the sounds of their depravations.
A large ornate bed dominated one entire face of the cube, a crimson velvet couch another, while a modest shower was pressed up against another. A thin, almost stringy red head, whose dark ringed eyes and splotches of bruising across the arms and legs made for a very unappealing sight sat waiting. She certainly was not what her picture promised but it didnGÇÖt matter, sheGÇÖd make the easiest thousand ISK in her life tonight and probably get a fair nightGÇÖs sleep for a change.
She tried to smile as he entered, but he ignored her completely tossing her the vial of Drop, her rolling her eyes at him, before stripping out of his clothes and entering the shower.
The water was tepid at best and was enough to wash the stink of the station from him, but it could not rid him of the guilt.
HeGÇÖd beaten than man half to death and enjoyed it. Perhaps it was because there was no duty here to bind him, no one to answer to but himself, and an unspoken rule that he could make of himself what he wanted.
But the thought scared him.
This kind of arrogant and capriciously cruel act had been typical of him a decade ago, a reflexive behaviour heGÇÖd thought heGÇÖd purged himself of.
He was still thinking when the woman attempted to join him in the showers, he simply grunted aggressively, and she backed off to the couch where within minutes she was unconscious in a blissful drug induced coma.
Kador himself retreated to the bed where he had laid his clothing collapsing into the lavish sheets. He lounged their for a time brooding over the events of the evening. It had seemed to go so well, he'd thought he'd fit in well enough until that bastard Caldarian had blown his cover right out of the water. Hell he though it had even been going well with Mila until she'd left with some other pretty boy. He didn't even know if he was jealous or frustrated, and the worst bit was that lack of knowing only made it worse.
I need to focus. Remember my duty.....don't just ....just stick to Galm's plan.
He hated the station on a fundamental level, its vices seemed to be getting to him, it all made him angry and at he same time disgusted. With the people. With the lack of morals. With himself.
Do you even want to? You don't even have to go back if you don't want to.
Tired he looped a number of the previous years Pit fights and fell into a fitful sleep within minutes listening to the sound of cracking bones and deathcries.
"We were commanded to burn the system...We did. I mourn the loss of the innocents caught in our fires" -Kador Ouryon
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Galm Fae
Eskola Ergonomics
339
|
Posted - 2014.10.20 06:21:00 -
[63] - Quote
Clockwork Jester wrote:
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.
((Darn, messed that up. Post coming))
Kirjuun! Uakan!
Teknikiara!
Kanpai kameitsamuu!
Ra ra ra!
> --Confirmed Badguy Cera YC116--
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Hunter Junko
Sebiestor Field Sappers
Minmatar Republic
294
|
Posted - 2014.10.20 22:45:00 -
[64] - Quote
minutes turned to hours, and yet hya'salia couldnt sleep. she tried, and despite the bruise on her face, she managed to catch some sleep.
but it was always the nightmare. always the origin and forces her awake.
Quote:
a low, metallic growl, the emptiness within a home.
family scattered, entire rooms stained in red and black
gunshot, a scream, a fall. wounded men dragged away by marked beings
a motherly attempt; saving what is left of her family.
a wounded man pleads, the marked ones continue to mutilate him
another gunshot.
and then another, followed by a laugh of glee.
the family rises, so does the mother.
the marked ones rise, a grenade is primed
the mother was the target, her family the distraction.
explosion.
pain.
the family wants to save her.
and so immortal she needs to become
regardless of the price she has to make.
...where am i?
a dark room. mountains of cable and tubes.
...why am i here??..
the inside of a room, alive and not, all in due time.
no..... please...
the desecration of life, replaced by the ignorance of man
dont.... please dont do this.....
denial of the mother, to enter paradise.
help....
....help me...
then with a jolt she snapped upright, her heart pounding against her chest, her breathing heavy and labored. always the same dream, yet this time it was different in ways.
it was already 'night-time' the lights dimmed down to simulate the night, yet in some parts of the city, the night-life continued as usual., its bright, colorful signs often dance in the darkness. bringing in other parts of the station to partake in its gruesome orgy of pleasure and sin.
but hya'salia instead opted to walk in the arena, possibly the closest thing to "nature" she could find. and for a while she walked around its perimeter, the stench and the bodies long since cleaned away and the stench of blood and fecal matter long removed, she walked... after a while she began to practice her fighting.
1,2,1,2 ; left right, left right.
left straight, right uppercut, left straight, right hook.
right hook, spinning left backhand, downward ridgehand strike. front kick, sweeping fist, flying knee, elbow drop.
she liked to practice... especially now since others will participate, and every bit of practice she'll take. |
Thal Vadam
Praetoriani Classiarii Templares
Praetoria Imperialis Excubitoris
39
|
Posted - 2014.10.21 00:32:00 -
[65] - Quote
"Can you hear them son? Hear the screams? Their cries of agony?"
Tears streamed down Thal's face as he watched the planet below them burn. His father was behind him, pointing a flaylock pistol at Thal's neck
"Yes father, yes I can"
His father hissed in his ear
"And don't you enjoy it?"
"No father, no I don't"
Thal's father smacked Thal with the pistol and laughed manically
"Well good, because you killed them. You pushed the button. It's all your fault."
With that, Thal turned on his father, slapping the flaylock aside. Thal grabbed his combat knife from his boot pocket and lunged at his father. The blade cut deep into Telos' chest, and the maniac fell back, blood pouring from the wound. Thal stood over his Father's corpse, blood dripping from his knife.
"Yes father, I cam hear them screaming, and I shall never forget."
Thal's eyes shot open, sweat pouring down his forehead. What he had wasn't a dream, it was a memory. A memory of his greatest sin, a memory of the day he burned them.
Thal sat up and got out of bed and put his robe on. The sleeping quarters were somewhat empty, except for an old Caldari janitor who had fallen asleep in the corner. Thal payed little attention to the old man and started walking down the hallway towards the arena. His black cloak blended perfectly into the darkness, allowing him to move unseen by the door guards.
Thal made it to the arena, the bodies of the days combatants were strewn across the floor. They did not shock or appall him, he had been on too many battlefields to feel much for such things. He walked over to a shadowed corner of the arena and sat their. He sat for what felt like hours, but what could only have been a few minutes. He hadn't thought about the destruction he had caused so many years ago on...wait...what has that world called? Thal could no longer remember, he was so tired, so old. He pulled out a flute from his robe's inside pocket. He had made the flute when he was young, and it was the only thing he took with him to the Empire. He played a soft song, a mix of traditional Brutor and Sebiestor folk music. It was the only song he ever learned to play.
Thal heard someone enter, it was Junko. Thal played his song a little quieter as he watched her. She began to train, obviously preparing for the next days fights. Thal observed her patterns and movements, they were quite skilled, except for one thing. Against Thal's better judgement he called over to her
"Try bending your knees a bit more, you're slightly unbalanced."
Thal winced under his hood and returned to his song.
"The Enemy has no idea of your true power. Let us show them! Thal to his men during the siege of Huola
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Hunter Junko
Sebiestor Field Sappers
Minmatar Republic
294
|
Posted - 2014.10.21 01:32:00 -
[66] - Quote
Thal Vadam wrote:
Thal made it to the arena, the bodies of the days combatants were strewn across the floor. They did not shock or appall him, he had been on too many battlefields to feel much for such things. He walked over to a shadowed corner of the arena and sat their. He sat for what felt like hours, but what could only have been a few minutes. He hadn't thought about the destruction he had caused so many years ago on...wait...what has that world called? Thal could no longer remember, he was so tired, so old. He pulled out a flute from his robe's inside pocket. He had made the flute when he was young, and it was the only thing he took with him to the Empire. He played a soft song, a mix of traditional Brutor and Sebiestor folk music. It was the only song he ever learned to play.
Thal heard someone enter, it was Junko. Thal played his song a little quieter as he watched her. She began to train, obviously preparing for the next days fights. Thal observed her patterns and movements, they were quite skilled, except for one thing. Against Thal's better judgement he called over to her
"Try bending your knees a bit more, you're slightly unbalanced."
Thal winced under his hood and returned to his song.
The voice caused her to stop abruptly, as she turned to where the sound originated from. her eyes, now attuned to the darkness picked out a shadowed figure, sitting down on the arena. the voice was familiar; Thal.
"ahh, Dweu Thal. could'nt sleep as well?" she asked, wiping the sweat from her brow as she turned to face him. her breathing was heavy, not as heavy from her nightmare, but from the exercise.
then she remembered his piece of advice.
"knees? they are bent slightly to the direction of my back, in case my initial strike failed." she said with a slight smile, then she attempted the move again. an imaginary parry, then a cocked fist. that was even instinct took over, she bent her knees , just like she did before and ducked. just as she ducked, she springed a good meter in a diagonal direction before rolling, turning to face her imaginary opponent and finishing off the manuver with a uppercut; the same one she used when facing Saahi.
after performing the manuver, she stopped and brushed off the dirt and dust from her jacket.
"keeps my movements unpredictable, at least for a short while" she finished with a chuckle. |
Thal Vadam
Praetoriani Classiarii Templares
Praetoria Imperialis Excubitoris
39
|
Posted - 2014.10.24 02:40:00 -
[67] - Quote
Thal watched Junko's combo and just barely cracked a smile. It wasn't often someone proved his combat knowledge was tested, but this was one of those times. He stopped his flute playing and stood up to approach her. He came up right beside her and pulled off his robe, underneath he is wearing a t-shirt and combat pants. He assumed a combat stance
"When I fight, it is usually against opponents of equal or greater physical strength. Thus my combat style is geared toward redirection of power. Watch closely."
Thal acts as if an imaginary opponent is striking at him. His arm moves up as if he is pushing aside a blow, and the his other hand extends to strike where his foe's stomach would be.
"That blow right there would be enough to cripple most men"
Thal stood straight and looked at Junko.
"Junko, may I train with you tonight?"
"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
295
|
Posted - 2014.10.24 03:36:00 -
[68] - Quote
Thal Vadam wrote:Thal watched Junko's combo and just barely cracked a smile. It wasn't often someone proved his combat knowledge was tested, but this was one of those times. He stopped his flute playing and stood up to approach her. He came up right beside her and pulled off his robe, underneath he is wearing a t-shirt and combat pants. He assumed a combat stance
"When I fight, it is usually against opponents of equal or greater physical strength. Thus my combat style is geared toward redirection of power. Watch closely."
Thal acts as if an imaginary opponent is striking at him. His arm moves up as if he is pushing aside a blow, and the his other hand extends to strike where his foe's stomach would be.
"That blow right there would be enough to cripple most men"
Thal stood straight and looked at Junko.
"Junko, may I train with you tonight?"
Junko stood and watched, as Thal assumed his combat stance. already she was struck by a curiosity that was all too familiar. observing the combat style of a hand-to hand combat specialist was a good opportunity for herself. she had always believed that styles of combat, much like languages, were ideas and concepts of communications, whether it be from one planet away or entire reigons.
to think that she would observe an amarrian-based style was exciting, Hya'salia mused as she watched his movements with an insatiable appetite; up to the moment where the second punch landed at an imaginary foe's stomach.
Thal Vadam wrote:"That blow right there would be enough to cripple most men"
"ahhh we have a similar style in the Wildlands" Junko said, as she clapped her hands once in a somewhat 'eureka!' moment. a moment of raking her head brought out an answer.
"its uh..... ah; Gvi Me'tieru ao, Manipulation of wind. the concept is the same, but the matter of execution is different; its more of... umm... using the opponent's momentum against them, rather then simply re-directing said blows." she explained as she made a fist coming straight at her face, she would "Duck" and then using her other hand, grasp her wrist and make a small tugging motion.
"if you get it just right, you knock a person slightly off-balance, leaving them open for one good strike, as they will be forced into trying to keep themselves straight. too little and you wont make an effect. too much and you yourself will be off-balance as well." she said further.
ThalVadam wrote:Thal stood straight and looked at Junko.
"Junko, may I train with you tonight?"
she looked at him for a second and then nodded slightly, a small smile appearing on her lips.
"i'd love too, one second please" she replied, and then proceeded to remove her jacket, letting it fall with a slight thud, the impact itself making a small cloud of dust. reaching into her utility pocket she took out a pair of black fingerless gloves and slipped them on.
they were unlike the ones she kept on her leisure clone, the gloves where new themselves, and it felt somewhat stiff against her hands but it was good enough. lastly she grasped the bottom of her shirt and lifted it over her head, revealing a dark-red tanktop. the tattoos she applied to this current body were showing, traditional Tribal tattoos marking her as a wildlands fighter stretching from her right shoulder to her arm, and extending underneath the tanktop.
"like i said before Thal.." Junko said, after letting her shirt fall to the ground she bowed once, her head facing the ground as she did so, and then back up to Thal from there she assumed a low sparring stance, her left hand up front in a clenched fist, her right hand open.
" please be gentle... i may be good, but im nowhere near as good as you are" she finished, the smile now looked more mischievous in nature |
Thal Vadam
Praetoriani Classiarii Templares
Praetoria Imperialis Excubitoris
39
|
Posted - 2014.10.25 01:12:00 -
[69] - Quote
Thal smiled at Junko
"You're to kind to me Junko."
Thal bowed in the manner that was practiced by master duelists. He suddenly leaped back in a back flip, landing in a low combat stance.
"Think fast"
((I'll type my combo and you can decide their outcome))
Thal rushed at Junko, almost to fast to see. He struck out with his fist in a uppercut, then followed up with a right hook and left jab. He then grabbed her shoulders, entering into a lock.
"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
296
|
Posted - 2014.10.25 02:55:00 -
[70] - Quote
Thal Vadam wrote:Thal smiled at Junko
"You're to kind to me Junko."
Thal bowed in the manner that was practiced by master duelists. He suddenly leaped back in a back flip, landing in a low combat stance.
"Think fast"
((I'll type my combo and you can decide their outcome))
Thal rushed at Junko, almost to fast to see. He struck out with his fist in a uppercut, then followed up with a right hook and left jab. He then grabbed her shoulders, entering into a lock.
She saw a flurry of hands, and winced when the uppercut grazed her cheek. However she didn't notice that it was her who barely avoided that strike.
"f'wa del!!" She hissed as she reached out and caught thal's right hook, moving it aside and then caught the other left jab, then as the two locked up.
" nice one Thal... " she gasped in between breaths, she was obviously weaker in terms of raw strength. That was for sure, but there was no way she was going down.
" my turn" and with that she let her knees buckle halfway, she bent them halfway , and then suddenly reached for thals head, jumping up at the same time and initiated a flying knee to Thal's chest. As she reached her peak of her jump, she cocked back her arm and dropped an elbow on top, with a yell. |
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Vyzion Eyri
The Southern Legion
Final Resolution.
2499
|
Posted - 2014.10.25 13:06:00 -
[71] - Quote
Air hissed out between Vyzion's pursed lips as he surveyed his work. Fresh bandages shone in the weak lighting of the clinic against dirty skin, bruises, and the drab colours of the room. All the patients had been accounted for, and he felt a little glow of satisfaction in his heart, one that a long day of harvesting would bring to a farmer on one of the many planets allocated by the empires for agriculture. Some he had no choice but to use crash on to numb the pain of the procedures he had to perform with the less-than-adequate tools he had on hand, but he tried his best to use as little of the substance as possible, much to the girls' delight. "Usually we don't manage to steal enough for a week, the way we use it," Leena explained.
The medic walked back to the staircase and sat with his back against the rear wall on the second step, with a leg resting on the first.
He closed his eyes. He hadn't slept since the transit in the Crow, but he had lasted much longer on deployments before. He felt Leena walk past as she went up to check on the Ritae, who she had sentenced to bedtime, much to the little girl's fury. She came back down a moment later.
"She yours?" Vyzion ventured.
"Nah, found her here." Leena walked past again and sat on an empty cot nearby, recently cleared of a 'patient' who had feigned sickness for some crash. Vyzion had told him in no uncertain terms never to return or he would find himself in dire need of medical attention. The guy thought himself quite the joker, though, and argued that that meant he could stay. He had received a sharp jab in the solar plexus and a swift chop to his temple, and in such disorientated breathlessness it was a simple matter of walking him outside and letting him wander aimlessly in pain and dizziness.
"Where are your parents?"
She looked at him carefully. "Dead."
"I'm sorry."
"Are you?"
"You're a good mother, and selflessness needs to be taught."
She absorbed that for a moment. "I'll take that as a complement, but don't think you're getting any points with me."
It was Vyzion's turn to pause, and he didn't say anything. Instead he closed his eyes again and started to hum. An old tune, one he and Rev both knew from way, way back... an old, grizzled man... an orphanage... ((something like this, I feel, best describes it))
A patient who hadn't fallen asleep started to whistle along on his third round.
A few others added their own voices on the fifth.
Slowly, everyone else who was awake threaded their own little additions to the basic hum in, until an assortment of clicks, claps, thumps and melodies turned the clinic into an orchestra without any one conductor.
Leena, silent until now, began to sing softly:
I seek refuge up in the void,
Away from troubles down in the world,
The stars call me - I can't help but answer.
For a moment, everyone abandoned themselves to the music, and later Vyzion could not recall whether they had been at it for minutes or hours. It ended, however, when the door slammed open and a man whose lower jaw was mangled beyond repair barged into the room, wielding a knife and waving it around, gurgling incoherently.
Vyzion sighed as he walked swiftly over. "I'm a doctor, put down the knife and we'll get you sorted."
The man looked at the medic with bloodshot eyes for a moment. Then he nodded and walked himself over to an empty bed. Bandages were found, and minutes later the man's face was mummified.
It was, Vyzion thought, an interesting assault. The blows were ruthless but not inexperienced. Whoever inflicted this upon the man had intentionally withheld blows that would've caused teeth to come crashing down on the tongue and causing severe damage to the organ, something that someone who was fighting with only intention to harm would've overlooked.
Whatever the case, if more patients were going to show up half-crazed with pain, it would be unwise to leave his defenseless charges in harm's way, since he was now the self-proclaimed master of this clinic. No sleep tonight.
Vyzion headed to the back again, and sat on the cot that Leena must have vacated as he was resetting the new patient's jaw, returning upstairs with her own responsibility, her only family.
He sighed again. A patient started snoring. Someone else groaned. Another murmured. Most shook uncontrollably and yelled softly at their nightly phantasms, the demons that haunted their sleep.
Upstairs, he heard Leena softly humming his childhood tune.
> Quis custodiet ipsos custodes?
|
Thal Vadam
Praetoriani Classiarii Templares
Praetoria Imperialis Excubitoris
39
|
Posted - 2014.10.25 16:20:00 -
[72] - Quote
Hunter Junko wrote:
She saw a flurry of hands, and winced when the uppercut grazed her cheek. However she didn't notice that it was her who barely avoided that strike.
"f'wa del!!" She hissed as she reached out and caught thal's right hook, moving it aside and then caught the other left jab, then as the two locked up.
" nice one Thal... " she gasped in between breaths, she was obviously weaker in terms of raw strength. That was for sure, but there was no way she was going down.
" my turn" and with that she let her knees buckle halfway, she bent them halfway , and then suddenly reached for thals head, jumping up at the same time and initiated a flying knee to Thal's chest. As she reached her peak of her jump, she cocked back her arm and dropped an elbow on top, with a yell.
Thal smiled. To him, fighting was the highest art form. Based on someone's way of fighting, Thal learned who they were as a person, and Junko was a very entertaining opponent. As her knee impacted his chest, he staggered just slightly. He quickly grabbed her knee with his left hand holding her there, and raised his other hand to catch her elbow. Thal chuckled
"Very good. Your style is strong, but agile. It's very beautiful to watch, and more so to fight"
Thal released Junko, letting her fall to the ground and as she hit the ground, Thal jumped into the air and came crashing down with a kick.
"The Enemy has no idea of your true power. Let us show them! Thal to his men during the siege of Huola
|
Clockwork Jester
Namtar Elite
Gallente Federation
63
|
Posted - 2014.10.26 13:56:00 -
[73] - Quote
GÇ£Nice jobGÇ¥
Although the voice was soft and lacked any malice its unexpected nature caused the nurse to jump reflexively as she took in a sudden and sharp breath.
GÇ£ItGÇÖs just me.GÇ¥
Noah offered. Although he spoke reassuring words they lacked any kind of warmth or compassion. He sounded exhausted and distant. The soldier took a few steps towards her. As he came into view she released the breath she had quickly pulled in. A look of relief washed over her face as her body visibly relaxed. The feeling of relief only lasted a moment. Her face tensed up again as she got a better look at him. Dark splotches of blood peppered his sweater. His face bore the results of a recent fight. The nanites within his body had already gotten to work, quickly clotting his blood and stitching together the torn skin.
GÇ£What happened?GÇ¥
Noah only offered a blank stare in response. She was quick to take the hint his silence provided. He leaned his body against the wall, lighting a cigarette. An awkward silence filled the room, only to be broken up by the sound of Noah sliding down the wall. The soldier was more lost in thought than exhausted. He was processing the information he had just gathered, but also struggling with the nature of the mission even more. The more attached he became the harder it was going to be. Closing his eyes he pushed aside the feelings of doubt. Expelling a large lungful of air and smoke he refocused himself on completing his duty.
GÇ£You should get some sleep, IGÇÖll watch after him.GÇ¥
The tired nurse did not bother to argue. She pulled her weary body up from the chair and into the open bed. Noah blankly stared out the window, lost in his thoughts. The clove cigarette hung loosely between his lips as it slowly burned.
The soldier remained there as the night gave way to the early morning. He had spent the night sorting through his thoughts, and while he was still conflicted he had come to a conclusion.
Morning had arrived he let out a heavy sigh and rubbed his face with his hands to pull himself out of his thoughts. He was about to spend another day fighting for his life.
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Hunter Junko
Sebiestor Field Sappers
Minmatar Republic
296
|
Posted - 2014.10.28 03:02:00 -
[74] - Quote
Thal Vadam wrote:Hunter Junko wrote:
She saw a flurry of hands, and winced when the uppercut grazed her cheek. However she didn't notice that it was her who barely avoided that strike.
"f'wa del!!" She hissed as she reached out and caught thal's right hook, moving it aside and then caught the other left jab, then as the two locked up.
" nice one Thal... " she gasped in between breaths, she was obviously weaker in terms of raw strength. That was for sure, but there was no way she was going down.
" my turn" and with that she let her knees buckle halfway, she bent them halfway , and then suddenly reached for thals head, jumping up at the same time and initiated a flying knee to Thal's chest. As she reached her peak of her jump, she cocked back her arm and dropped an elbow on top, with a yell.
Thal smiled. To him, fighting was the highest art form. Based on someone's way of fighting, Thal learned who they were as a person, and Junko was a very entertaining opponent. As her knee impacted his chest, he staggered just slightly. He quickly grabbed her knee with his left hand holding her there, and raised his other hand to catch her elbow. Thal chuckled "Very good. Your style is strong, but agile. It's very beautiful to watch, and more so to fight" Thal released Junko, letting her fall to the ground and as she hit the ground, Thal jumped into the air and came crashing down with a kick.
to any outside, it semed like some form of dancing, something lovers would do at a ball, or any formal event. but hya'salia could'nt help but smile as he complimented her on her fighting.
"hahaha, thanks for the compliment"
' well, i guess i can add melee-fighter to my resu-' Hya'salia began to think, until thal dropped her abruptly.
then her mind threw the notions out the window, and immediately went into survival mode.
Hya'salia felt powerless against such a kick as Thal dropped her, it all seemed so quick, but to her things were moving in slow motion, her mind long in overdrive, fueled by the rush of adrenaline. her vision was sharper, her hearing was clear as day.
but it was going to hurt.
instinctlively, she raised both her hands up, crossing them in the shape of an X,just as Thal mde his move, drawing on the power from his jump and launched an Axe Kick.
her arms largely absorbed the impact, but the kick still slammed into Hya'salia's chest, nearly forcing the air out of her lungs.
'Gvi Me'tieru ao...' she thought, and then she latched onto Thal's Leg, twisting it suddenly, enough for him to lose balance. immediately she wrapped her legs around thal's leg , and grabbed his ankle, close to the achilles heel,, and forced it to bend against the opposite direction. |
Thal Vadam
Praetoriani Classiarii Templares
Praetoria Imperialis Excubitoris
39
|
Posted - 2014.10.28 21:58:00 -
[75] - Quote
Thal cringed as he heard cracking in his ankle. It wasn't quite broken, but would be soon. Acting quickly, Thal lashed out at Junko's side, knocking her off balance enough for Thal to escape her grip. Thal rolled away from her and jumped up, his ankle slightly struggling under his weight. He smiled at Junko, jumping like back and forth
"Ready to stop the warm ups and get serious?
Thal rushed her and let out a flurry of punches, kicks, and hooks. He was in Heaven right now. There was nothing in his mind other then Junko and him, two fighters engaged in glorious combat. Like a dance, they moved and fought. Thal unleashed a sweeping kick at Junko
"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
342
|
Posted - 2014.10.30 08:14:00 -
[76] - Quote
Sleep was rarely a respite for Galm anymore, only a necessary evil that he was occasionally forced to endure from time to time to keep himself functioning. His clone physiology no longer had any biological need for the practice, but the drugs had taken a massive toll on his system that could only be paid with ample time to rest. There were no dreams, only a mildly refreshing void that smothered his every being for several hours.
His dreams never made any since anymore. There used to be tangible horrors, physical manifestations of his inner fears. In time though those too began to degrade and dilute into nothing more than a kaleidoscope of intangible abstracts. There was nothing left but crushing fear and broken memories as his brain combed every corner of his mind in search of a memory that should have been there. It found nothing, only a broken segment of corrupted data that it couldnGÇÖt begin to process. Occasionally in the muffled static distinct figures began to immerge. In one instant Galm was beating madly against the glass of a CRU, a blistering flame overtaking him. In another he was stepping firmly on the neck of another man, FaeGÇÖs laser rifle charged to full capacity and pressed so firmly against the manGÇÖs face that he began to shriek and blister from the heat.
It was never enough to provide a detailed picture or clear series of events. As soon as though he had a grip on his memories they would slip away and drop him back into that horrifying pool of unknowns. He recalled waking up at least twice that night, digging madly for his nearby bucket to throw up before passing out once again to rejoin the void.
There were no mornings on Snowfall, only a loose coalition of coinciding sleep cycles that everyone seemed to agree to as a good time for fighting. For some Pit Fighters were held first thing in the morning, for others they were the height of a very long GÇÿnightGÇÖ of drinking. Regardless, when Fae finally awoke he was reluctant to haul himself out of bed. As terrible as sleep was for him, it somehow seemed optimal to preparing for another day in Shoashu. He rolled over several times, curling into a pathetic ball as he tried to recall the best locations in the station for breakfast. He arched his way up and blinked at Noah in the corner, who may or may not have been awake. The room was far too dark to tell, and Fae hadnGÇÖt quite mentally prepared himself to turn the lights on.
GÇ£Oi,GÇ¥ he spoke, his voice hoarse and gravely, GÇ£You up kakku? I feel like going out for waffles. You down for waffles?GÇ¥
He sighed, breaking out through his nose as he checked the luminance on his watch.
GÇ£Yeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah dude, waffles. Loves me some waffles. Chocolate chip waffles with powdered sugar, whipped cream, a tall glass of cold dairy product.GÇ¥
He pulled up his NeoComm in the darkness, sending out a general message to the other mercenariesGǪ Baring Steady, who was no doubt still trapped behind customs. Out of courtesy he sent one the invitation to the captain that had flown their team into Tenal, though he doubted the man would show even if the message was genuine. He was finicky like that.
FROM: Galm Eskola-Fae
SUBJECT: The Most Important Meal of the Day
I am hungry. I suspect you are too. There is a waffle house in the area I know of that probably wonGÇÖt give you botulism. No strippers, no gambling, just good wholesome breakfast with a side of family values fit for the Sarum family. Okay, maybe that was an exaggeration but seriously you have to try these waffles.
There will also be bacon, cigarettes, and coffee. (Just make sure you take it black. You donGÇÖt want to know what they do to people here that donGÇÖt take their coffee black.) If you prefer flapjacks I suppose they make those too, but to reiterate let me make myself perfectly clearGǪ You have to try their waffles.
The location is marked on your NeoComm.
-Pixy <3
Kirjuun! Uakan!
Teknikiara!
Kanpai kameitsamuu!
Ra ra ra!
> --Confirmed Badguy Cera YC116--
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True Adamance
Praetoriani Classiarii Templares
Praetoria Imperialis Excubitoris
13988
|
Posted - 2014.10.30 20:09:00 -
[77] - Quote
He woke several hours later.
While the shower and the fitful state of unconsciousness had done wonders for the rejuvenation of his body it had done little to ease his frustrations or spiritual malaise he was now aware that he was suffering from.
Having been subjected to a number of equally disturbing dreams that induced moments of instantaneous almost wakefulness the rest had been disjointed, and while this was not the first time he had been subject to waking dreams he found himself waking in a foul mood.
His eyelids felt heavy.
He opened them, allowing light to filter in through his lashes, wincing through despite the fugue state as he did so, light blinding him and bringing on the dull throb of a lasting fatigue headache.
His mouth felt dry, he coughed, trying to generate any amount of saliva to lubricate the parched flesh. Instead a fresh wave of nausea rolled through his stomach almost causing him to gag and rush through to the modest, and somewhat exposed shower cubicle.
He tried to move but found he could not, sending a warm jolt of pain through his shoulders as they clashed with something solid behind him.
To his surprise the air was cool, none of the condensation he had seen clinging to the surface of the other cubes was present in his, and in his sleep he had burrowed into the heavy covers and drawn them all across the bed into the corner where he had been pressed against the wall. Half in, half out pressed deeply into the narrow cavity between the cubeGÇÖs wall and the bedframe.
He rose, pushing the covers from him, noting the *****, still sprawled comatose on the satin couch some feet away. Even in unconsciousness she had no modesty, thankfully heGÇÖd barely looked at her since his arrival, she wore a loose fitting shift of a plain and unremarkable fabric cut so as to expose the shoulders and the bust, trailing down and stopping sharply just below the waist, a rag tied awkwardly around her thigh, highlighted with monthsGÇÖ worth of bruising.
The small vial of Drop was still roughly half full, its cap splayed open, with a few droplets of its translucent contents lying in small beads that appeared all too much like blood for this taste.
The way she was stretched out languidly across the furniture was he supposed typical of her vice, the Drop would take its toll inducing a temporary dementia which seemed to produce something akin to cerebromedullospinal disconnection, leaving the consumer immersed in their own fantasies for hours at a time.
What I wonder, he mused to himself, where would I go?
Kador turned, ignoring the woman, and made for the showers again. Something about his whole situation made him feel like heGÇÖd spent a week on the frontlines. He caught a brief glance of himself against the reflective surfaces that composed the shower, flinching as he recognised himself.
God, he looked different. He didnGÇÖt know if it was betterGǪ.but it was different.
His normally well combed hair stuck out at irregular intervals in jagged tousles and the early beginnings of stubble had formed overnight across his jaw. The normally verdant green chips that were his eyes looked dulled. Above that for the first time in a long time he saw no trace of what Mila had tauntingly called his GÇ£ChoirboyGÇÖs FrustrationsGÇ¥, the lines that always seemed carved into his forehead.
This was more so the case of the small, almost natural upwards twist of his lips. Kador had always been accused of being a dour individual, he rarely smiled in company, always pointed out the worst in a situation. Satja used to suggest it was because he carried a storm in his head, something that never truly rested and shaped the rest of him.
But he was smilingGǪ.wasnGÇÖt he.
This was normalcy he supposed, noting rather oddly as he rolled his taut shoulder muscles that he was still without his clothes, and despite the knowledge that anyone could pay for a view within the cube his stance suggested a quiet confidence.
He stepped into the tepid shower once again marvelling this time at how the lukewarm water seemed to unknot the tension that he had built up over night.
He dried and dressed himself in minutes taking the clothes from where the redhead had put them the previous evening appreciating her efforts as he found them in a neatly folded pile atop a small metal locker, marked with the womanGÇÖs name.
She didnGÇÖt matter though.
The fights started today, and for a brief moment he thought that he felt the same rush of excitement he had when heGÇÖd broken that muggerGÇÖs teeth, or as heGÇÖd watched the highlights in the bar.
It was feral. It was angry. It demanded suffering. Either his or his opponents.
And it was wrong, so fundamentally wrong. He hated conflict didnGÇÖt he?
He was about to leave when the ***** started to wake, first a low moan or pain as her eyes tried to adjust to the light as his had then followed by another of contentment as she drew the rag from her thigh and began to blindly fumble for the dose of Drop.
He had thought to leave the stuff, it was a sickeningly depraved vice, and not something he thought he trusted himself to have.
Regardless he found himself snatching up the vial as he passed her, pressing a small red button to let the clerk outside know he was done.
He came by a moment later, drawing back the single shutter and leaving the Amarrian to go about his business. As he did so the woman mumble something groggily that sounded like GÇ£Come back againGÇ¥, causing the clerk to give him a sharp look.
GÇ£Drugs are for you bro. Not the girls.GÇ¥ He grumbled, glancing back into the cubicle with a sigh. GÇ£GǪ.AinGÇÖt gonna work tonight. YGÇÖgonna do somethinGÇÖ about it?GÇ¥
Kador just shrugged, gave the clerk a jocular grin, turned and walked away. The fa+ºade was back. GÇ£Better my way anywayGǪGÇ¥
GÇ£How does this all work then?GÇ¥
GÇ£Like so Choirboy.GÇ¥
- Mila to Kador, Sub Zero Club, Shoashu Sasaanko
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True Adamance
Praetoriani Classiarii Templares
Praetoria Imperialis Excubitoris
13988
|
Posted - 2014.10.30 20:43:00 -
[78] - Quote
He found that Shoashu Sasaanko was a place for the night owls, or perhaps it was just that the citizenry made their livelihoods at night either in the bars on the streets, as fewer people walked the streets during the simulated daylight hours.
None of the massive crowds that heGÇÖd characterised as GÇ£club crawlersGÇ¥ were to be seen nor were the bouncers or club sponsored prostitutes. The one thing that did remain were the small gaudy looking road side stalls hawking their mystery meat and liquors for interested patrons.
Shoashu Sasaanko however was still a hive of activity during the day, if if this even was "day on the station". He seemed to distantly remember in the back of his mind that stations operated around mutually agreed upon sleep cycles many of which coincided with peak hours of activity both for the residents and visitors.
Overhead the tram systems were in constant use, bearing maintenance staff and security personnel about the station. Down below those, now dominating the streets automotives pressed into single direction with multi-lane roads, perhaps allowing for a dozen side by side. Horns blared loudly the length of the crush, as frustrations boiled over and drivers undertook more desperate manoeuvres to get out of deadlock.
Alongside them and moving to and fro, more oft than not exhorting squeals of excitement and blasts of the vehicle horns, were men dragging ramshackle looking carts upon which clients sat.
Now thatGÇÖs something worth trying, he thought to himself. He stepped out to the curb trying to hail one of the men.
In a minute a Jin-Mei pulled up before him, flashing him a smile and accepting his fair for half an hour, helping the Amarrian as he stepped up into the cart.
It was a thrilling and terrifying experience. The cart itself felt ready to fall apart and any moment, and Kador was thrown wildly about in it as they passed through the morning traffic. And the cart stunk of something awful.
He questioned the Jin-Mei on it and received a wild stare and a cryptic answer. Something about terrible clients and their slug.
After that he kept to himself, preferring to enjoy the ride while taking in the sights and sounds of the city during the day.
The steam still rose from the vents lining the gutters but it was less noticeable now as the wispy trails almost instantly disappeared from sight a few feet above the ground only leaving a slight change in warmth and humidity as he passed them by.
For the first time he was able to admire the designs of the station. In a distinct contrast with many other Caldari stations Shoashu Sasaanko had a character to it. Built up on top of what once was likely to have been a platform of Caldari design the owners and citizenry had incorporated designs from over a dozen culture into the construction forcing examples of Gallentean building design up against what was unashamedly a single Amarrian habitation spire. Other examples made themselves present as he looked back up at the skyline, admiring the buildings now that they werenGÇÖt being over shadowed by the neon signs and holographic facades.
They were still their of course, though the neon signs were dulled their power supplies shut off, while the holographics cycled with news broadcasts and entertainment bloc programming. Nothing like the intensely provocative showings that were displayed at night.
He checked his NeoCom unit as soon as he grew hungry, it had been many hours since heGÇÖd eaten, and the fitful sleep had done little bring him peace. He decided that it would be in his best interests to make an attempt at a proper meal at some point during his stay. While he absolutely could go on eating the stall vendors deep fried goods, which he had decided were perhaps the tastiest things heGÇÖd ever eaten, they wouldnGÇÖt sustain him through a dozen pit fights and open combat.
With this in mind he disembark the Rickshaw several hundred meters down the foot path from where he had originally embarked, thanking the Jin-Mei and offering the man a tip which was vehemently refused, before continuing on foot back towards the plaza.
"Rikaato!" he called back as the eccentric man dashed off at a dogged place.
Kador continued on foot for roughly half an hour meandering past clumps of pedestrians, guardsmen openly baring small automatics, a pair of kids with their father in tow, and two Jin-Mei girls, some years his junior that caused his neck to crane right around as he passed by for no more than what he considered exotically beautiful features.
He smiled to himself, an occurrence becoming more and more common on the station, wondering if all Jin-Mei knew that they were so......personable.
Still he continued walking admiring the sights and sounds of everyday life. Plesant. Peaceful even. A quietly organised microcosm of the prosaic.
Perhaps Galm could put the attack off a few days so that they could settle in, spend more time on the station. Hell if he could then perhaps he could get more excited about the Pit fights, perhaps he could hang around with Mila and her friends for a change, hell given enough time he could put something together here for himself.
HeGÇÖd let himself run away with his own imagination. Given himself and inch and taken the mile. It was always how he had been back then.
But he genuinely didnGÇÖt want to destroy the station. The more he looked at it, the more he was exposed to the people the less he wanted to see this place destroyed.
He stopped suddenly.
His faith compelled him to see the evils of Shoashu Sasaanko, and to revile them as the acts of heathens and understand them as godless revelatory, but in distinct contrast he understood this as cultural deviance, and at its most basic nature the culture here was raw freedom.
And the mere concept was too alluring to describe.
GÇ£How does this all work then?GÇ¥
GÇ£Like so Choirboy.GÇ¥
- Mila to Kador, Sub Zero Club, Shoashu Sasaanko
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Vyzion Eyri
The Southern Legion
Final Resolution.
2505
|
Posted - 2014.10.31 11:09:00 -
[79] - Quote
Vyzion's NeoCom beeped, snapping his mind from its trance-like state. He had sat on the stairway at the back of the clinic all night, eyes unfocused and mind blank, not conscious but not asleep. Long defense deployments that required him to be fully aware at a moments notice had let him master the technique, and he could fall into that state for days on end, sometimes losing himself in its peace until his clone body simply shut down from starvation or dehydration. It was nice, even though he had lost many a clone in that idle mode. The best thing about it was the usual clone soldier nightmares never came.
Galm Fae wrote:
FROM: Galm Eskola-Fae
SUBJECT: The Most Important Meal of the Day
I am hungry. I suspect you are too. There is a waffle house in the area I know of that probably wonGÇÖt give you botulism. No strippers, no gambling, just good wholesome breakfast with a side of family values fit for the Sarum family. Okay, maybe that was an exaggeration but seriously you have to try these waffles.
There will also be bacon, cigarettes, and coffee. (Just make sure you take it black. You donGÇÖt want to know what they do to people here that donGÇÖt take their coffee black.) If you prefer flapjacks I suppose they make those too, but to reiterate let me make myself perfectly clearGǪ You have to try their waffles.
The location is marked on your NeoComm.
-Pixy <3
He rolled his sleeves back down over his wrist after he finished the mail, stood up, and shook out his cramped muscles. Before him, patients lay in various states of consciousness, from not, to waking, to wide awake and muttering at the ceiling.
Trusting the two girls to handle the clinic, he walked outside, squinting in the neon glow. His head began throbbing; the clinic's walls protected its interior from the rancid smell outside more effectively than he had thought, and the odour of death and decay hit his nostrils once more. He ran and leapt over the cess... moat, and quickly walked on.
As he wandered along the streets, he let himself fall back into the rhythm of the environment. The pulse of the station.
He grinned to himself as he stood up taller and held up his head. He was already wide awake, senses relaying information to his brain at full speed, comparing it to other stations in other lives... to that one station in his first mortal life. Snowfall had potential. If he had the resources and the inclination, Vyzion felt he could've been the head honcho around these parts. Immune to harm due to his immortality, surrounded by power and riches, women and drugs, finger on the pulse of the city at all times, eyes and ears everywhere, nothing to fear, nothing for his subjects to hide, no need for any more accursed battles-
He walked into a light post, colliding into it with his right cheek and falling backwards on his arse. Around him, pedestrians and motorists alike guffawed, one yelling: "Get yourself checked out, doctor!"
The medic looked down: he was still in the white surgeon's coat.
He got up, patted the pole that had abruptly tore him from his dark thoughts, and muttered a quick word of thanks. By now those who had stopped to watch knew undoubtedly they witnessed the antics of a lunatic.
His thoughts flowed on, now to the strange sign off by his contractor. <3.... why? It seemed, unprofessional, to say the least. Why was he sending me a heart. A signal? Was it meant to be a code? Whatever the case, he thought, the pancakes and coffee were too good an offer to turn down.
The walk was a short one. For the first few minutes Vyzion relied on the route his NeoCom had displayed before in the clinic, but before long the smell of fresh, warm waffles guided him. He was openly salivating now, swallowing hard as he walked slightly faster. Breakfast was indeed an important meal and Vyzion never underestimated its importance. Before long, he found himself standing outside a well-established waffle-house, and he had no inclination to study the architecture any further. He dashed inside and sat down on a bench against a wall, hailing a waitress over.
"Three dozen lemon-infused pancakes drizzled with honey that the Sanmatar and the Empress would both approve at the same table," he ordered, "with coffee darker than the rings under your eyes, love. Working this long is bad for you, check yourself in to the clinic for some rest."
She sneered at him and spat something in Napaani and surprisingly, Matari. The usage of the latter let him catch "typical immortals". She turned on her heel and walked away. The medic shrugged; natural tact was something Rev had, not him.
He lounged back on his seat and waited for his pancakes. And the others, he supposed, as an afterthought.
> Quis custodiet ipsos custodes?
|
Hunter Junko
Sebiestor Field Sappers
Minmatar Republic
296
|
Posted - 2014.11.01 02:39:00 -
[80] - Quote
Thal Vadam wrote:Thal cringed as he heard cracking in his ankle. It wasn't quite broken, but would be soon. Acting quickly, Thal lashed out at Junko's side, knocking her off balance enough for Thal to escape her grip. Thal rolled away from her and jumped up, his ankle slightly struggling under his weight. He smiled at Junko, jumping back and forth
"Ready to stop the warm ups and get serious?
Thal rushed her and let out a flurry of punches, kicks, and hooks. He was in Heaven right now. There was nothing in his mind other then Junko and him, two fighters engaged in glorious combat. Like a dance, they moved and fought. Thal unleashed a sweeping kick at Junko
the fight was long, arduous , and... satisfying. Cathartic as Hya'salia went from attack and defensive methods of attack as fast as the blinking of an eye. her mind was ready, alert and active, before long the night had begun to turn to morning. she realized this when Thal unleashed a sweeping kick to her legs, which by now had been sore from the fight.
a few more seconds and it was all over. Hya'salia flopped onto the dirt, breathing heavily, making no effort to cover her mouth as dust particles entered her lungs.
"welll.... a pretty good day of training, huh thal?" Hya'salia noted, her facial expression turning from that of fatigue and that of laughter. the laughing continued until a message popped up in her Wrist-comp.
It was from Galm.
Galm Fae[i wrote:]FROM: Galm Eskola-Fae
SUBJECT: The Most Important Meal of the Day
I am hungry. I suspect you are too. There is a waffle house in the area I know of that probably wonGÇÖt give you botulism. No strippers, no gambling, just good wholesome breakfast with a side of family values fit for the Sarum family. Okay, maybe that was an exaggeration but seriously you have to try these waffles.
There will also be bacon, cigarettes, and coffee. (Just make sure you take it black. You donGÇÖt want to know what they do to people here that donGÇÖt take their coffee black.) If you prefer flapjacks I suppose they make those too, but to reiterate let me make myself perfectly clearGǪ You have to try their waffles.
The location is marked on your NeoComm.
-Pixy <3[/i]
the sound of bacon had made her parched lips wet in anticipation of the coming meal, deftly ignoring the fatigue and the sore legs and arms, she got up and picked up her clothes, dusting them off in a futile attempt at making them clean; at this point she cared little for the cleanliness of her clothing, she needed to get ready.
" well... i gues we have to clean ourselves up first. till next time Thal" She said as she offered her hand.(assuming that thal accepts it) then, she turned and headed back into the fighter's resting area.
as soon as she arrived at the resting area, she dumped her clothes into a washbin, nabbed a towel, so obviously provided by the arena's caretakers, and made for the showers.
20 minutes later....
a fresh shirt and cargo pants , her hair tied into a loose ponytail and at last feeling the fatigue after the adrenaline wore off she made her way to the diner, her gait becoming more sluggish by the second. she sat next to Vyzion, who looked eager to see her.... or the pancakes..even her mind was having trouble keeping up with the mornings, due to the fighting.
"D'weeeeuuuuuuuu Sybionnnnn" She managed to utter out before she uncharacteristically fell sleep on the spot, slamming her head onto the tables with a loud thud. |
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Thal Vadam
Praetoriani Classiarii Templares
Praetoria Imperialis Excubitoris
40
|
Posted - 2014.11.01 03:16:00 -
[81] - Quote
Thal splashed his face in the fighter pit's washroom. The fight with Junko had surprisingly tired him out. A testament to her skill as a warrior. Even now Thal's mind returned to her fighting stances, strike preferences, and combat tactics. They were better then even the greatest Amarrian gladiators. Thal's heart was racing at the thought of Junko. In that one fight, Thal learned more about Junko then he ever would in a conversation of words. Fighting was a language, one it seemed Junko spoke as well as Thal
Thal slipped on a long brown trench-coat over his cloths and walked out of the arena on to the station streets. The streets were just as crowded with beggars, thieves, and a whole manner of unscrupulous characters. Thal payed no attention to them, as they steered clear of him. He heard them say such things as "Isn't that the guy who killed the champ?" and, "That guy right there's going down in the books of the greatest fighters this stations ever seen." These compliments meant little to Thal, he was here to destroy the station. As he walked, a pair of arms wrapped around his neck, and a smooth, silky voice whispered in his ear...
"Did you miss me big guy?"
Thal turned around to see the young Gallente girl from before. The one who checked him in, and the one he saved from the thugs.
"Umm...Hello"
She grabbed him and with surprising strength pushed him into a nearby alleyway. She grabbed Thal's head and pulled it towards hers, kissing Thal again on the lips. Thal wanted to push her away, to say no, to never kiss her again. But over his nearly century of life, this girl was the first to kiss him. She pulled her head away from his, her arms still wrapped around him.
"Because I missed you." She said with a wink
"You never told me your name" was Thal's response, he was shivering
The girl giggled at him
"I'm Clara, Clara Shima"
Thal smiled nervously
"A pleasure to meet you Miss. Shi..."
She put her finger over his mouth and kissed him again on the nose.
"Call me Clara big guy."
"I was umm...just off to get some breakfast. Would you join me?"
Clara giggled again "I already ate, I just came to remind you after your fights today, I'll be waiting at my apartment for you. Then we can have some fun"
She kissed Thal one more time and then frolicked back into the crowds. Thal walked out of the alley and made his way to the diner. When he arrived, he saw Vyzion sitting in front of a sleeping Junko. Thal chuckled and slipped into the seat next to Junko.
"Hello Doctor." He said to Vyzion
"The Enemy has no idea of your true power. Let us show them! Thal to his men during the siege of Huola
|
Vyzion Eyri
The Southern Legion
Final Resolution.
2506
|
Posted - 2014.11.01 11:53:00 -
[82] - Quote
Vyzion smiled briefly at Junko when she came in but he already saw the exhaustion in her eyes, the same exhaustion he saw in mercenaries after the campaigns on Caldari Prime, exacerbated by weeks being revived with nanite injectors without the respite of a new clone, caught in the smog from the flaming wreck of the Titan that protruded from the ground like an unholy gesture towards the heavens.
"Have some of my p-," he started, then cut himself off as she murmured a drawn-out "D'weu Sybion", then fell face first onto the table, fast asleep. Vyzion shrugged, and assumed that was his cue to begin stuffing his face.
However sour-faced the waitress was when she brought him the pancakes, apparently she had acquiesced to his requests, and the chef had brought exactly the pancakes he wanted. He would have to thank Galm for showing him to this parlour later. The pancakes were cooked to golden-brown perfection, and the hint of lemon was there but at the very edges of his tasting capacity; he wondered whether there actually was lemon or it was because he had ordered lemon, and his mind told him there was.
As for the honey, the hives must've been taken care of by Amarrian holders with slaves who had nothing but the bees for company, because its thick consistency belied a sweetness that burst upon the tongue as soon as it made contact with the taste buds.
Oh, and the colour! It was crystal clear gold, perfectly harmonized with the pancakes and set off with a dark green plate underneath, topped with a sprig of what Vyzion guessed was mint. The whole stack looked like a tree with a ridiculously wide trunk set in a lush forest, oozing sap from every orifice.
The first stack was gone from its plate when Thal walked in and sat down next to Junko. He was less worn out that the Thukker, but Vyzion noticed that the Templar appeared to frown every time he inhaled. Bruised diaphragm... The medic turned to the sleeping Junko. He knew it was one of her deadlier combos, but the Templar didn't show any sign of concussion from the 'elblow', as Vyzion liked to call it. Then he recalled the cut he had spied on Junko's cheek before she fell unconscious. Ahh... so there are people who can counter that kind of speed.
Thal Vadam wrote:
"Hello Doctor." He said to Vyzion
Thal's tone was most certainly distracted, the medic pondered as he chewed thoughtfully (and loudly) on what appeared to be that missing stack of pancakes. He swallowed hard, but remained silent. He raised the empty plate to his face and proceeded to slowly lick the honey that had drizzled off the pancakes from it, trying to place it.
He put down the plate and looked at Thal again. Wait a minute, Templars don't wear lipstick.
Vyzion frowned as he drank some coffee (which was brewed to perfection as well). Then his eyes bulged and he nearly spat it all into the Templar's face. He slammed a fist into the table and controlled himself, putting his other hand over his mouth. Another swallow. He looked at Thal who was slightly confused. "Sorry... sorry, just... the coffee was so good."
As he spoke, he stole a furtive glance at Junko again, then back at Thal's lips. No... no, she doesn't wear lipstick either.
He reached out for another pancake stack, and pushed one over to Thal, making eye contact as he did so.
"There you go, big guy, on the house. Although something tells me you've already had some sweets this morning." Vyzion winked, and slid over another stack for himself.
> Quis custodiet ipsos custodes?
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True Adamance
Praetoriani Classiarii Templares
Praetoria Imperialis Excubitoris
14057
|
Posted - 2014.11.02 18:16:00 -
[83] - Quote
Blast and Goddamn this place, he thought bitterly and internally, and Goddamn me for this.
He passed under one of a half a dozen over passes, a long concrete tunnel stretching out ahead of him littered with garbage, filthy, even the occasion citizen or reveller collapsed and writhing spasmodically.
It was quiet and he let a pair of passerGÇÖs by go ahead of him, carefully skirting the twitching form of a glassy eyed junkie and the nearby pool of blood and vomit.
The man was trapped in his own personal hell. He radiated heat and his face was smeared with excrement, either his own or that of the occasional Fedo who scurried away to some darker corner. It would have been kinder to kill the man, as moving him would likely only do more harm than help.
Instead he kept walking, it would do no good to become involved with the junkie, not for the mission, not for Galm, not for Kador personally.
GÇ£I am sorry.GÇ¥ He told the Junkie. GÇ£IGÇÖm not here to help. Not even here to protect anyone this time. IGÇÖm just about as lost as you.GÇ¥
It was over pretty quickly, the man gave a single massive gasp then spasmed, his body eerily contorting into odd angles, arms reaching for something, before he collapsed again and lay still, breathing slowly and shallowly.
GÇ£But not quite.GÇ¥ He muttered grimly, turning to leave.
Fortunately for him the Den had not been too far from the Tram Stations or the Pits leaving him with the undeniably pleasing option to go where he pleased.
He walked, not particularly caring where, down a number of main streets, back through the plaza opposite Hawkers which still appeared to be open, though no security was present nor any indication of that anyone was visiting.
It was cool in the plaza, not overly humid as it had been at night but enough to make him shiver.
He was about to give up and head back to one of the greasy stalls when he spied a small shabby looking drinking room.
It was a tiny thing built into a simple steel recess between two buildings allowing little room for much other that an open kitchen behind a simple bar top littered with dozens of Caldari rice wines and Gallentean liquors.
Spreading out before that was an odd layer were three low knee height tables with and odd looking table spread running down to the floor leaving a plain wooden surface for eating and drinking off. The tables were resting atop what he found were small comfortable mats meant for kneeling on.
He took a knee by one of them and waited, tracing a finger through a left over patch of rice wine drawing various patterns and symbols with it.
Oddly enough he ended up drawing up the Amarrian symbol for his moniker GÇ£AdamantGÇ¥ and another, which he recognised as the overly stylised rendition of a Fedo.
Eventually a round balding man stuck his head out of the back room, jumping up and down excitedly as he saw the tall Amarrian, and whipping at a pace Kador thought impossible of him out of the small kitchen with a menu and small earthenware jug and two dishes.
He was, Kador soon found out, and incredibly friendly old man by the name of Makoai, and the licenced promoter heGÇÖd been looking for.
A jovial man of perhaps fifty odd years by the way his hair seemed to part before fading away into individual tufts of greying hair, or the way the flesh on his face sagged into rolling jowls and a pronounced beer gut that poked out of his too short shirt.
Still he possessed a certain youthful vigour, sharp grey eyes, a hawkish nose, and a manner of speaking that had the Amarrian chuckling along with him at jibes he barely understood.
Owner and distributor of the drinking rooms and the house rice wine, and took a genuine joy in meeting his customers, drinking with them, and talking pit fights.
This was evident from the memorabilia plastered all over the drinking lounge. Posters, shirts, caps, even stylised narcotics filtration and injection brands from God only knew where were lined up on almost every surface of the establishment, even the kotetsu covers bore the pseudo erotic poses of decade old female champion Mishu Aravali, or so he was told.
For a time they discussed their respective personal lives, Kador lying through his teeth not wholly unsure if the older man on his right pouring serving after serving of the rice wine was doing the same.
He chose a simple meal grilled fish substitutes, as fish itself was rare on the station, a noodle broth and several fried rice crackers which took on an indescribable taste when dipped into the broth. He cursed all fried foods and their makers it was so good.
Minutes after ordering his dishes were brought out to him by a boy of five years and an older girl of fifteen, whom Makoai introduced as his children, Sou and Alyai, both of whom offered him a shy bow and retreated back to the kitchen where the watched
The meal, when it came was modest, but filled his stomach, and left him feeling somewhat better about the previous dayGÇÖs events. It also helped that Makoai was a charismatic and enthusiastic conversationalist.
Then came the business talk.
GÇ£How does this all work then?GÇ¥
GÇ£Like so Choirboy.GÇ¥
- Mila to Kador, Sub Zero Club, Shoashu Sasaanko
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True Adamance
Praetoriani Classiarii Templares
Praetoria Imperialis Excubitoris
14057
|
Posted - 2014.11.02 18:40:00 -
[84] - Quote
Makoai was surprisingly professional about the subject asking Kador for lists of specific demographics heGÇÖd like to appeal to, how wide spread heGÇÖd like his coverage to be, odds for the betting, and more so for descriptions of his combat styles.
He offered the information without hesitation, even getting up, mildly embarrassed, when the Caldarian asked his to remove his jacket and shirt to inspect his physique.
At the end of the questioning Makoai simply sighed and rubbed at his temples, a look of intense frustration disfiguring his face, increasing the severity of its features.
GÇ£What actually makes you think you have what it takes to catch a following?GÇ¥ Makoai asked brusquely, setting his hands on the table top in the fashion of an experienced businessman. GÇ£From what you tell me you have no established wins under your belt, yGÇÖdonGÇÖt really seem to me the mentally unstable type, and frankly what I saw of yGÇÖer style was GǪ.well it was non-existent. YGÇÖgot size kidGǪ.but yGÇÖlack character.GÇ¥
Kador let the words sink in. He knew his craft at least, and was very much so right, something Kador had feared from the moment he stepped out into the arena yesterday.
Character was everything in the pits. People had to like you or youGÇÖd be sure to lose in one of the later rounds, a knife slipped in your opponents boot, or worse.
It was typical, he mused bitterly, the only unique aspect of his character and he was not even able to use it.
GÇ£Was a soldier onceGǪif it helps.GÇ¥ He offered tentatively, hoping that the first hint of truth wouldnGÇÖt give him away.
Makoai levelled a suspicious look at him. He may have considered digging deeper but withheld the urge to do so.
GÇ£Might work as a drawGǪ.GÇ¥ He muttered thoughtfully GÇ£DonGÇÖt get many Amarr come through here bGÇÖfore.GÇ¥
GÇ£So youGÇÖll be my promoter?GÇ¥
GÇ£Sure. Got nothing to lose but my dignityGǪ.. YGÇÖgot a nickname of summat like that? All career soldiers got a nickname dontcha?GÇ¥
For a moment Kador was about to state his traditional moniker, but at the last moment held his tongue, it would not do to plaster his callsign all over the Tenal circuit less he wanted his reputation within the Empire ruined.
GÇ£Desert RatGÇ¥ He replied casually. GÇ£Matari rebelGÇÖs coughed up their guts trying to get that insult out.GÇ¥
GÇ£Indeed almost fitting huh given yGÇÖer colouringGǪby the look of ya youGÇÖve been out there more than in the Throne World huh?GÇ¥
GÇ£Most of my lif-.GÇ¥
He cut off abruptly eyes narrowing with distaste as he realised what the Caldarian was doing. HeGÇÖd revealed more than heGÇÖd intended.
GǣLook believe meGǪ.. look story and fran-Gǣ
GÇ£YGÇÖknow who starts sentences with that crap?GÇ¥ He asked with an accusatory tone, interrupting Kador and ignoring his attempts to steer the conversation away from the subject. GÇ£Liars!GÇ¥
For a moment Kador was stunned, but he regained his composure a second later.
GÇ£IGÇÖm not lying.GÇ¥ He insisted.
GÇ£YGÇÖknow who says that? Liars.GÇ¥
He said nothing. The man knew somehow and he was unwilling to share his part in the conspiracy. Makoai didnGÇÖt seem to care and kept blathering on at his own pace.
GÇ£Look bro trust me on this one. YGÇÖer gonna want to get it all out in the open with someone on the station and itGÇÖs better that itGÇÖs me than some back alley ***** or fangirl riding on the back of someone important.GÇ¥
He cursed himself for being so weak.
Still he gave the older man a reproachful look heGÇÖd pried where he hadnGÇÖt been welcome and would now have keep his tongue. He then directed his eyes over to the kitchen with a nod where the sounds of SouGÇÖs irrepressible giggling could be heard above the sound of some muffled holo-reel vid Alyai was polishing glasses with a rag.
MakoaiGÇÖs eyes widened as he realised what he meant.
GÇ£YouGÇÖre goinGÇÖ to threaten me?GÇ¥
GÇ£ThatGÇÖs not a threat Makoai-hanGǪ.GÇ¥
He seemed to be put at ease by that, but not by much. He barked a brief, garbled fragment of Nanpali at Alyai and started suddenly and disappeared into the back rooms closing the door behind her.
And then he told the man everything he needed to know.
GÇ£How does this all work then?GÇ¥
GÇ£Like so Choirboy.GÇ¥
- Mila to Kador, Sub Zero Club, Shoashu Sasaanko
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True Adamance
Praetoriani Classiarii Templares
Praetoria Imperialis Excubitoris
14057
|
Posted - 2014.11.02 19:27:00 -
[85] - Quote
GÇ£Thirty thousand.GÇ¥ He offered the Amarrian with a brazen, yet charming grin, his golden teeth flashing gleefully at the promise of his business.
GÇ£Scripts?GÇ¥ Kador countered, maintaining a hard-line with the man. Though he was trying to play hard ball he couldnGÇÖt help but empathise with Makoai, the man was charismatic in perhaps all the ways he was not, but more than that he took the mile when you gave him the inch. And despite the nature of the previous hours conversation the man was taking it quite within his stride.
Kador was well aware this quote was not in stationside scripts, more so aware that this was far beyond the expenses any promoter less audacious would attempt to demand, still it was necessary to establish boundaries now, and more so to put the man in his debt before the fights begun.
GÇ£NoGǪ ISK will do just fine there Jaijii. YGÇÖsee while I might accept station scripts for friends you happen to be a relative unknown if you will. A one of customer you might sayGǪ. Yes. Now I need to know if I am going to be reimbursed for the favours IGÇÖm going to have to call I yGÇÖseeGǪ I-GÇ£
GÇ£You charge everyone this fee?GÇ¥
GǣOf courseGǪof course I do. I am a professional after all. Would a man with a face as honest as mine cheat a good man of God like yourself?Gǥ
Kador let the silence extend out between them, raising an eyebrow questioningly.
GÇ£Of course I wouldnGÇÖtGÇ¥ He blustered, fumbling for the correct words to placate the young Amarrian, colour rising in his cheeks, jowls undulating in the same way grub did as it crawled across a leaf. Sweat beaded on his forehead to the extent he was forced to drawn out a pocket handkerchief, which he used to dab at his forehead and cheeks in erratic jerking motions.
For all his faults, exaggerations, and perhaps more so his charisma he found himself wanting to give the old man the shot he wanted.
GÇ£Thirty thousand it is then.GÇ¥ Kador nodded, offering his hand across the table.
MakoaiGÇÖs eyes widened first displaying his surprise, then flashed greedily, as he wiped one of his palms on his jacket leaving a greasy smear.
GÇ£Which ones are yours then?GÇ¥ He said, draining the small dish of wine before gesturing up with the dish at the posters of the fighters that lined the walls.
Makoai had been in the process of reaching out to clasp his hand but stopped dead. Eyeing the Amarrian warily over the container of wine.
GÇ£Mine? I uh-GǪ.what oneGÇÖs? Well to be honestGǪ our luck hasnGÇÖt been great these last few years, plenty of out of region competition you have to understand. Too many unknowns like yGÇÖselfGǪ.uh not to imply thaGǪ. We did set up the District wide champ of 04GÇÖ Shouich-GÇ¥
Kador grinned. That had stumped the Caldarian, thrown him off balance as he struggled to explain his successes listing off name of obscure tournament champions from almost a decade ago.
Still he was an earnest one, and the sum itself was pittance if it got the job done.
GÇ£We did also set up that Devereaux fellaGÇÖ with the Koukei Syndicate, he did well there if I recallGǪ.oh and GÇôGÇ£
GÇ£Right well you sold me on this one. JustGǪuh whatGÇÖs the phraseGǪbusting you ballsGÇ¥ He said jovially interrupting the elderly man and clasping his hand in a firm grip which exhorted a nervous titter followed by a flashing mercantile grin.
They concluded the finer points of their deal over course of the following hour discussing the terms of their arrangement, minimum standards to be met, and specifically what both parties would, and could to the minimise the risks to their respective partners.
Makoai surprised Kador.
He spoke of the station with the knowledge only a lifelong resident could have possessed and with the same fondness Mila had and spoke of the very realistic consequences his actions could have. While he wasnGÇÖt very assured of KadorGÇÖs promises he, to his credit, stuck by his word listening to the finer points of KadorGÇÖs story and further more the reason for his being on the station.
When all was said and done the elderly man gave off a single tuneless whistle that sounded like a mortar round dropping, clearly he was intent on humour.
GÇ£So you fought the Minmatar with the regulars then?GÇ¥
Kador nodded his response.
GÇ£One of them TemplarianGÇÖs or whatever then?GÇ¥
Another nod.
GÇ£And now yer here ter fight in the tournament? Bro that donGÇÖt make one lick of sense.GÇ¥
A shrug.
GÇ£And we canGÇÖt even use that for publicity.....well bugger me if my work ainGÇÖt cut out for me.GÇ¥
Kador found himself looking for a smart arse comment when the message from Galm came through the NeoCom, he found himself do this more and more often, naturalising his formerly stiff and inflexible manners of speech and using his mind less so for puzzling out the meanings of others words and more so to adjust the inflections of his.
Galm Fae wrote:
FROM: Galm Eskola-Fae
SUBJECT: The Most Important Meal of the Day
He scanned the document twice over, made a note to download the attached location to his unit. The previous night he wouldnGÇÖt have bothered meeting with the other operators on the station in attempt to keep his presence as need to know as possible however after the encounter with GabracGÇÖs man he wasnGÇÖt sure he cared enough at this point.
GÇ£Hey Makoai....you like waffles?GÇ¥ he asked in a distracted manner, running a single hand through his tousled hair, frowning at the foot notes about the coffee.
GÇ£How does this all work then?GÇ¥
GÇ£Like so Choirboy.GÇ¥
- Mila to Kador, Sub Zero Club, Shoashu Sasaanko
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True Adamance
Praetoriani Classiarii Templares
Praetoria Imperialis Excubitoris
14057
|
Posted - 2014.11.02 19:28:00 -
[86] - Quote
GÇ£Hey Makoai....you like waffles?GÇ¥ he asked in a distracted manner, running a single hand through his tousled hair, frowning at the foot notes about the coffee.
He received a puzzled look in return, though he did note that the Caldarian did lean forwards and begin tapping at the top of the table sharply with his index finger as he lapsed into silence again.
GÇ£Probably time you meet Gal....uh Pixy since itGÇÖs his show.GÇ¥
The journey across to the small diner was a mercifully brief jaunt on one of the rickshaw and though Makaoi was loath to leave Alyai and Sou in charge of the drinking room alone he did admit that they rarely saw customers at this hour.....and that the Gistii automatic behind the counter was fully loaded with the safety left off.
This caused the Amarrian to grin, the almost surreal image of Alyai and Sou wielding a civilian issue plasma rifle was humorous enough like something out of a caricature, though when he told Makoai the older man gave him a stern rebuke that soured the ride over.
They disembarked swiftly at the end of the block and made their way forwards at the CaldarianGÇÖs pace. The older gentleman waddled swiftly and with a dignified purpose on two short legs, and while Kador towered over him the fellow never once looked up at his employer, preferring to keep his eyes down at the people around him.
They reached the waffle house in minutes and waited outside. Through the glass Kador could discern the three of the other operators on the station. A bruised Thal and Junko who had undertaken two of the fights yesterday and come out on top against crowd favourites, and Vysion now wearing the distinctive white over coat of a physician.
Both Thal and Junko were significantly better hand to hand combatants than he, and both looked worn, Junko slumped out over her table. He hadnGÇÖt seen them take any significant hits during their fights and wondered if something had happened.
For a moment Makoai suggested they go in to see if any of the others had arrived, and as puzzled when his employer refused.
Kador kept his back to them hoping they wouldnGÇÖt notice him, though he was aware of how perceptive immortals like himself could be. He however found it easy to explain to the old man that they were waiting for Galm himself, to explain to him why he knew, and to see whether or not he was worth keeping around.
GÇ£How does this all work then?GÇ¥
GÇ£Like so Choirboy.GÇ¥
- Mila to Kador, Sub Zero Club, Shoashu Sasaanko
|
Hunter Junko
Sebiestor Field Sappers
Minmatar Republic
301
|
Posted - 2014.11.02 21:04:00 -
[87] - Quote
"mmmm-nyaaa~" Hya'salia mumbled in her sleep as both Thal and Vyzion conversed, the clinking of plates and the aromas of the morning meal made all too stimulating for her senses.
But it was the smell of pancakes with a healthy serving of Amarrian honey that started to mess with her dream; transporting her to a time when things in the world made better sense for a little girl just out of bed to the sound of her mother.
she frolicked about, turning her head towards the general direction of her two allies and with a slight giggle she said
"mmmm... Feed me"
it was indistinguishable from a joke or a request, but it was made more confusing when she slowly opened her mouth to recieve whatever food she imagined in her dreams. |
Galm Fae
Eskola Ergonomics
344
|
Posted - 2014.11.02 21:20:00 -
[88] - Quote
Galm didnGÇÖt really walk to the wafflehouse as much as he did cast himself down a flight of stairs and through a series of corridors, each time having the good fortune of having his feet quickly catch under him before collapsing to his knees. If the tight living conditions of the station where good for one thing, it was for catching you when you were very very hung over. Where he may have otherwise fallen on his face he could gracefully slam himself into the side of a building and use his momentum to force himself further across the steel until he hit a doorknob or latch or any other object that was big enough to be a fulcrum to wench Fae back onto his feet. He was unsure exactly where he was going, forcing himself to stop once or twice when something in the window of a passing shop caught his eye.
Using only landmarks and a growing sense of hunger, Pixy managed to muster the direction and discipline to guide himself to the diner. Upon descending a spiral staircase from a street above, Galm found himself in a dingy alley that seemed to catch the industrial runoff that leaked from the grates in the large overpass. It was cramped and incredulously dark when eclipsed by the above bridge. By all logic and reason, this was not a place Fae should be. But gods, that smell!
An overbearing rush of fresh coffee and bacon snaked into his very soul as he continued to practically glide across the street and towards the restaurant. He stopped for a moment just outside, removing the worn stetson hat under the dim glow of a single streetlight. There was a shift to his left, the sound of boots scrapping against wet pavement as Pixy spun to meet it before coming face to face with moreGǪ Familiar features. A quick flash of jet hair so dark it bordered on a deep cerulean bordered a hopelessly pale young man, his face mulched across his entire right side. The sailor wore a fine pressed navy blue blouse, tucked carefully into gray pants to mimic the aesthetic of the Provists from years past. His left arm hung beside him, his sleeve barely covering what as obviously a cybernetic prosthetic that Galm knew continued upward to his shoulder blades. Despite his macabre charm, the man was smilingGǪ Though it was uncertain if that was intentional or if his scars simply made it impossible to do otherwise.
GÇ£Ah, Morgan,GÇ¥ Pixy began, unsure if he should be excited or disappointed, GÇ£You made it. I wasnGÇÖt sure you were going to show.GÇ¥
GÇ£Yeah,GÇ¥ the capsuleer groaned, his voice cyberneticly augmented, GÇ£DonGÇÖt get used to it. I just wanted to make sure you havenGÇÖt gone 514 yet.GÇ¥
Galm was taken back, blinking in disbelief before retorting.
GÇ£I donGÇÖt need you babysitting me Wulver, and I donGÇÖt take kindly to you questioning my ability as a soldier.GÇ¥
GÇ£Ohhh Fae, my old friend,GÇ¥ the capsuleer breathed, rolling both his sleeves up to flash his robotic appendage, GÇ£I think IGÇÖm about the only one left alive who still has that right. ArenGÇÖt I? Look, I know weGÇÖve both been itching to clear the air about a few things but weGÇÖre on a mission for gods sakes! The street outside a waffle bar is no place us to fight, we can do that back at Matais with over stiff drinks like adults. IGÇÖm just here for food and GÇÿwholesome family values.GÇÖ You can take that to your grave.GÇ¥
GÇ£Oh trust me, I will.GÇ¥
GÇ£Oh trust me,GÇ¥ he coughed, raising a finger to make a correction, GÇ£I have.GÇ¥
The two immortals stood there for some time, each tense while the other stood their ground. Galm was the first to turn away, tucking his head into the diner as he pushed past the set of two heavy glass doors. The interior was quant, if not slightly dim. The chrome tables and chairs reflected the small amounts of fluorescent light that leaked from the buzzing glass fixtures that hung from the ceiling. A single fly traced circles through the caf+¬ around the heads of the immortals that had beaten Galm there. Vyzion sat happily in his white lab coat, munching away at a large stack of flapjacks as Hunter sat nearby asleep on the table. Thal parked himself beside the two, obviously pleased with himself from what must have been an eventful evening prior judging from the clear lipstick smeared across his face. In the back sat some vaguely familiar Amarr beside some fat pungent Caldari, though Fae could hardly be bothered with locals anymore. Instead he waved his hat in a wide sweeping motion, tossing one hand to the side to slam into WulverGÇÖs chest.
GÇ£Howdy!GÇ¥ he thundered as Morgan doubled over to regain his breath, GÇ£Sorry IGÇÖm late. Had to stop for a few things and all that. YouGÇÖve met Captain Varc--GÇ¥
GÇ£You can call me Wulver,GÇ¥ the capsuleer coughed dryly, waving a hand halfheartedly as he pulled himself back to his feet,
GÇ£Pleasure to meet all of you. So happy to see my old pal can keep some new friends!GÇ¥
He grinned impishly, jabbing the halfbreed hard in the ribs with his cybernetic limb. The two pretended to laugh, moving on to outright punching each other in the alley until the waiter finally broke the two up. She sat the two next to each other at a bar seat, demanding that they order something if they wanted to keep taking shots at each other. Galm was quick to place his ordered, frantically asking for the largest stack of chocolate chip waffles they could muster and a huge mug of milk to chase it down. The waiter nodded happily, giggling gleefully at his enthusiastic charm while she turned to Morgan. He ordered a single cup of coffee, obviously struggling make eye contact with the young woman. She rolled her eyes and disappeared into the back with their order, shouting all manners of orders in Napanii to her cooks.
GÇ£Seriously?GÇ¥ Galm asked, glaring at Wulver, GÇ£ThatGÇÖs it? Black coffee?GÇ¥
GÇ£Breakfast of champions,GÇ¥ he breathed sarcastically.
GÇ£Oh come on. At least let me get you a smoke and a pancake.GÇ¥
Kirjuun! Uakan!
Teknikiara!
Kanpai kameitsamuu!
Ra ra ra!
> --Confirmed Badguy Cera YC116--
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Galm Fae
Eskola Ergonomics
344
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Posted - 2014.11.02 21:22:00 -
[89] - Quote
Morgan shook his head, looking very concerned for Pixy. Galm dug into his pocket, pulling and lighting two menthols. He let one hang from his mouth has he tried to push the other one onto Wulver. Morgan eventually gave in, taking a single puff from the disgusting smoke before putting it out on the table in front of them.
GÇ£No? DonGÇÖt want a flapjack and a cigarette? Oh about a cigar and a waffle? Pipe and a crepe? Bong and a blGÇöGÇ£
GÇ£Gods!GÇ¥ he shouted, slapping his hands down on the counter, GÇ£I just want my fracking coffee!GÇ¥
The waiter came back that moment, practically throwing the mug of coffee at the capsuleer as Wulver sank deep into his chair in embarrassment. The two sat there for some time in silence until GalmGÇÖs first stack of waffles came up, the waiter taking great care to make a happy face in whipped cream before stepping away.
GÇ£Well then,GÇ¥ Fae began, talking through a full mouth as he took his first bite, GÇ£Then there is no pleasing you Morgan.GÇ¥
Kirjuun! Uakan!
Teknikiara!
Kanpai kameitsamuu!
Ra ra ra!
> --Confirmed Badguy Cera YC116--
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True Adamance
Praetoriani Classiarii Templares
Praetoria Imperialis Excubitoris
14061
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Posted - 2014.11.02 23:06:00 -
[90] - Quote
Minutes passed in silence between the two. To Kador it looked as though Makoai had already resigned himself to the firing squad. The man was pale and wan, even his movements screamed a sense of defeat.
It was funny in some respects. Honestly it was. If Galm wanted the man dead he wouldnGÇÖt bother with fire arms, heGÇÖd simple beat the man to death in the alley.
No one would ask question. Hell no one would care barring the two kids in the diner with that single Gistii automatic between them.
He almost would have laughed, but that would have been out rightly cruel and while he loathed to admit it he was enjoying it all a little too much for his own good.
He was busy watching the crowd when Galm and another man he did not recognise passed them by with little more than a passing glance, as their eyes rolled over them completely launching a series of escalating blows at one another.
It would have been a brawl were it not for the intervention of one of the waitresses intervened ushering the two inside where Galm sat down with the others and began to talk in his melodramatic fashion.
He sighed, rubbing at his forehead, causing the Caldarian to flinch.
GÇ£ThatGǪGǪ. Would be him. Looks like you got yourself worked up for nothing.GÇ¥ He said in an offhand manner, his voice tinged with cynicism. GÇ£HeGÇÖs in a good mood.GÇ¥
He gestured for the man to follow closely, tucked his hands in his pockets and walked right through the doors.
There was a warm smell in the air, something sweet, and the pungent stink of cigarettes mingling with coffee.
A waiter approached them with a pair of menuGÇÖs which the pair took with appreciative smiles ordering two cups of coffee kindly offering the waiter that he not **** with his coffee, before moving on over towards the growing cluster of EmpyreanGÇÖs near the wall. Noting the table was full they took one of the tables adjacent to the group, choosing the seats as close to the aisle as possible where they could hear the others talking.
As Kador did so he flashed Thal an acknowledging salute, forming a first with his right hand and pressing the index and thumb against his forehead, before taking his seat without a word, staring blindly into the dinky looking menu for anything of interest.
Galm Fae wrote:
GÇ£Well then,GÇ¥ Fae began, talking through a full mouth as he took his first bite, GÇ£Then there is no pleasing you Morgan.GÇ¥
The strangerGÇÖs name was Morgan. They Amarrian had obviously come late, missing the introductions, only appearing in time to catch the tail end of their conversation.
He reclined over the back of his seat staring at the ceiling as he waited for the coffee to arrive counting the number of aesthetically displeasing rivets and soldered joints.
His jacket from the previous day was dishevelled, hanging loosely around his shoulders, top three buttons undone, revealing a silken shirt beneath of conspicuous sky blue and white. His knee high boots were in dire need of a clean and polish, splotchy stains of spilt alcohol, alley filth, and blood marred the supple leather, and the sole still seemed to stick to the ground as his feet tapped subconsciously.
He was in a foul mood.
How would he begin to explain this to Galm?
GÇ£How does this all work then?GÇ¥
GÇ£Like so Choirboy.GÇ¥
- Mila to Kador, Sub Zero Club, Shoashu Sasaanko
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