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Galm Fae
Eskola Ergonomics
315
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Posted - 2014.09.22 01:13:00 -
[1] - Quote
Opening
The voyage through Tenal was an event in itself. On no less than three occasions, a band of Guristas had failed a warp scrambler attempt on Crow class frigate, and the captain had successfully thrown at least four interdiction zones before arriving in the target system. The mysterious captain never left his pod or spoke to his crew, instead opting to use Galm as a sort of oracle to communicate with the fire team. When the word came to prepare for docking, it came from Galm. In the limited space of the Caldari frigate the mercenary ducked between crew, pipes, and machinery to ensure each and every soldier aboard was adiquatly prepared for what lay ahead. He paused only once when the target was finally within view of the window.
Shoashu Saasanko.
It had been over a year since Galm had been here. Even from the outside it wreaked of sin. Jagged, asymmetrical pylons extended out past the tower-like structure, venting their neon light into the oblivion beyond to advertise the hell that stirred within. When he finally addressed the crew he was dressed not as a soldier, but a civilian. A new olive drab jacket draped around his shoulders, his emblem displayed proudly on his right for all to see. Mirrored aviators framed his face, highlighting his most distinct features against his mop of unkempt hair. If his father were still around, the resemblance would have been uncanny.
Quote:"Listen up team. We all know why we're here. We're going to bring Snowfall Station to it's knees, and capture on Gurista linchpin by the name of Advir Zippang, otherwise known as 'Grabarc.' The man is a mortal, and in charge of all the operations of the facility. I assure you, this is not a trial. This man is guilty of enough crimes to merit what we do him this day five times over. We are hear to deliver justice swiftly, and without mercy. And we will not fail!"
He undoes his jacket swiftly, displaying a clear lining of explosives running up and down the sides.
"Our cover is that we're here to participate in a local Gladiator tournament held between immortals every year. They like seeing emotion in their fighters, so I trust that most of you brough custom clones instead of average stock bodies. Convince them that we're here to fight, and they won't bat an eye at you. When you have your chance, get into a strategic position and detonate your explosives. Captain Wulver, the man in charge of this ship, will see about having a sellection of your clone reserves moved to one of the lower storage levels of the station to reanimate back into. I want you all to cause as much chaos as possible, and burn Snowfall from the inside out. Hooah?"
He zips up his jacket and makes for the cargo hold, trying to forget that he's a walking bomb.
"Oh... And... Try not to get shot. The pirates out here like using Toxin modified weapons on immortals. If you don't know what that means, you're lucky. All I'm saying is, given the choice between suffering through the pain and setting off my bomb I'd pick the bomb any day of the week."
Kirjuun! Uakan!
Teknikiara!
Kanpai kameitsamuu!
Ra ra ra!
> --Confirmed Badguy Cera YC116--
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Atiim
12383
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Posted - 2014.09.22 02:47:00 -
[2] - Quote
((Nevermind))
The 1st Matari Commando
-HAND
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Vyzion Eyri
The Southern Legion
Final Resolution.
2443
|
Posted - 2014.09.22 12:40:00 -
[3] - Quote
Vyzion felt a little grim about the tournament. It sounded like a needless brawl to him, but he shrugged. Something might turn up and he wouldn't have to subject himself to mindless fighting.
He shifts his weight from foot to foot as Galm speaks, feeling exposed in his civilian clothing: light green long sleeves was all that could be seen of the thermal overall he wore under a grey T-shirt and loose, baggy black pants ending in some tattered sneakers.
Vyzion also felt a little unnerved by the explosives that had been inserted into his body through what he would only think of as 'magic', because he feared the truth was probably too intrusive to consider. Simply thinking about it made goosebumps crawl over his arms.
He nodded as Galm finished his briefing. Fighting evil with evil. No purpose... except the ISK. Even I can't resist it. The pilot sighed as he envisaged the dropships he'd be flying after this mission.
I feel like a boy doing chores for pocket money.
> Quis custodiet ipsos custodes?
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Hunter Junko
Sebiestor Field Sappers
Minmatar Republic
278
|
Posted - 2014.09.22 13:26:00 -
[4] - Quote
As she heard Galm give out the briefing, Hya'salia nervously adjusted her vest which was the same as galm had housing the mysterious explosives, loosening up the straps a bit to give her some room. No sane person would ever think of doing something as crazy as this, but its obvious that whoever Galm was working with has been planning this to the most minute detail.
In case things happened, she dyed her inital clone 's light brown hair black, tying it down in a small ponytail. She preferred to keep her leisure clone back home, in the wildlands. After all, she had a unusual affinity for that body rather than what she did with the one she was now in.
After the transfer, she went for the nearest tattoo parlor she could find and had part of her arms and back covered in tattoos in varying themes and sizes. The most intricate of them all was the war tattoo she had on her face, resembling a brutor skull design.
The changes were so radical, one might not notice who she really was had she not introduced herself.
But as she heard the briefing more, even the changes made to this body wasn't enough to keep her from feeling nervous about the vest.
' they must be a rough mix of gelatin-based napalm in powder format along with a slow acting secondary charge, to spread the napalm around in the initial blast' she thought. She wasn't experienced with explosives, only enough to get by without blowing her arm off. But it was common sense, to create the most chaos, make sure the initial explosion can attract the biggest audience, and then set off the true diversion; since most of the immortals in the station are used to explosions and gunfire, they wont run out on the others, which will be an added bonus.
Or find some way to remove the vest and plant it somewhere in the station she thought, at least she wont be needing to send herself out into oblivion. Then again, the toxin weapons galm mentioned might cause her to reconsider
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steadyhand amarr
shadows of 514
3340
|
Posted - 2014.09.22 17:34:00 -
[5] - Quote
A few days before
Steady had managed to find himself a nice planet in middle of wormhole space to hide in while waiting for concord to relax about him escaping their custardy at the hands of mordu extraction team.
The few months of peace and quiet had allowed him to reflect on his life, oddly and unexpectedly his faith had become stronger and more concrete, the empire had its fault but it represented a stable core and light that allowed the other races flailing around in dark to fly towards it like moths to a flame. Sometimes they would get to close and burn themselves, sometimes they would attack, but the empire strong and stable allowed all to always see a true form of the faith...even if there are those within it who didnGÇÖt believe it themselves.
Steady museing was interrupted by his neocom suddenly springing to life, A Call from beyond a local wormhole?
GÇ£There are only 3 people in universe who know this signal and where to direct it. By that virtue IGÇÖm giving you 30 secondsGÇ¥ spoke steady in a flat business like tone while jotting down some notes
Target: Guristas
Location: Space station, Caldari
Objective: maximum damage
Payment: removal off concord wanted list.
GÇ£Please holdGÇ¥ spoke steady as he opened a second channel
A second voice crackles though
GÇ£David, this guy checks out, he went through hell to get hold of mordu for your number, what ever the mission is this guy wants him dead bad. Either way the volume of targets is high enough that we are 100% sure we can get concord off your back.GÇ¥
GÇ£Thank you, have my standard package arrangedGÇ¥ steady hung up the call and address his new contract
In a flat business tone he simply spoke GÇ£AcceptedGÇ¥ within moments the call was dropped and steady felt the old tug of mind being pulled into space.
#####################################################################################################
Present day
Steady was now occupying a blank clone, under the guise of attending a close combat tournament he had made the necessary modifications to. For all intense purposes he was a battle ready clone minus the dropsuit. Dressed in amarr persist robes that he had modified to display scriptures and battle hymns to onlookers in golden letters on outside, hiding its true purpose, to cover up for thickness of robes being down to it being lined in explosives.
ready with his little displace Steady took stock of his team.
Mixed race all combat ready, one medic, one thinker, one strategy, two combat focused, and his dear employer. Steady felt he likely had a personal stake in mission and possibly likely to become unstable and rash if mission goes south, must be the reason for the strategy guy. Good boss knows his own weakness . The others where all unknown to him not that he cared much as long as they did their job.
That left himself and Kador who soul goal he imagined was maximum noise maximum distraction for which both where famed fo....WAIT KADOR... steady suddenly lost focus on his mission assessment.
GÇ£well frack were going have to work quickly here he thought to himselfGÇ¥, what the hell was he doing on this kind of shadow run, either way it became very clear tohimself this mission was going to leave a lot of very very bad people, very dead, very quickly and he was going to get a big telling off from the only personal he felt safe enough to call his effective dad, they had run a number missions together and Kador was had personally saved his life before being forced to handing him over to concord. steady locked eyes with him long enough to get the message GÇ£what the hell are you doing hereGÇ¥ across before mission brief started.
Quote:"Oh... And... Try not to get shot. The pirates out here like using Toxin modified weapons on immortals. If you don't know what that means, you're lucky. All I'm saying is, given the choice between suffering through the pain and setting off my bomb I'd pick the bomb any day of the week."
Looking around steady watched the others steal themselves and shake off nerves or well try too, matching suit he decided as the most flamboyant of the party he should probably get off first and rose to his feet proceeding to walk towards the landing ramp. Turning to look towards to Galm
GÇ£I here it ticklesGÇ¥ he speaks with a half smile before dropping into his performance allowing a small vile of blood drop between his chest.
GÇ£by your leave, let us commit some righteous slaughterGÇ¥
You can never have to many chaples
-Templar True adamance
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Thal Vadam
Praetoriani Classiarii Templares
Praetoria Imperialis Excubitoris
25
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Posted - 2014.09.22 20:28:00 -
[6] - Quote
Thal looked out at the massive silhouette of the massive station they were approaching. Just by the sight of it, Thal could tell it was a wretched hulk full of the most vile, disgusting lowlifes in all of New Eden. He hated the fact he had to go into such a pit of filth, but his duty to his brother Templar allowed him to forge ahead.
As Galm begain his briefing, Thal couldn't help but wish he could participate in the arena matches. He longed to fight other warriors like himself in the martial arts, but now was not the time to dwell on wishes and desires. Now was the time to burn this palace of sin.
As they traveled, he examined the men and women around him. He had fought along side a few of them before, and he trusted them with his life. Galm however, he did not trust. Nor did he trust the other Amarrian aboard, the one wearing a vile of blood around his neck. He decided to keep an eye on them, but not let them interfere with the mission at hand.
He checked the explosives under his robes. All were primed and ready to detonate, which wasn't very reassuring to him. He hoped he would be able to place the bombs rather then use himself as one. While he was immortal, he liked his clones to last as long as possible.
He started humming the Classiarii Battle Hymn, prepping his mind and soul for the coming onslaught of sin. After a few moments, he sang the lyrics quietly to himself.
"From Ancient Athra the Empress commands Her Proud-sons.
From revered Blood-stock these Warriors are made Her Proud-sons.
No fear they know, Praetoria Classiarii, Her Proud-sons.
The Empire's foes, they defend against all, Her Proudn++-Sons.
Warrior's merit, Unbreakable spirit, Classiarii!
Supreme Defenders, Unchallenged in Battle, Classiarii!
Courage and honor, Empress and Sefrim, Classiarii!"
He shook his head, snapping out of his trance like state. He walked over to the door, his prized sword to his side, and prepared to disembark. He was ready.
"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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True Adamance
Praetoriani Classiarii Templares
Praetoria Imperialis Excubitoris
13358
|
Posted - 2014.09.22 23:38:00 -
[7] - Quote
Kador shivered against the cold frame work of the Caldari vessel, a cut down Crow class Interceptor, despite the thick layering of his cloak.
The cloak itself was more choice the necessity he found during the long voyage throughout the Tenal region. There were a great many familiar faces, some he was not wholly comfortable around and was glad for the ambiguity the cloak provided. Surprisingly however few people questioned his presence though he did attach a few puzzled glances as neck were craned to catch a glimpse of his face through the drab, roughspun cowl.
Those who did not already know of his presence came away dissatisfied.
Those who did manage a glimpse under the hood would have seen the normally distinct Amarrian features Kador bore now hollowed and drawn, the typically sun bronzed skin having somewhat submitted in favour of a more ashen pallor.
In the days leading up to the mission he had chosen to fast, choosing only break on a half loaf of grainy bread and honeyed milk.
Nor had he slept his fill, choosing instead to seek the Summit Gymnasium during the early morning hours for solitude and peace. There was something to the cycles of callisthenic routines he had been taught, the stretches worked all of the bodies muscles exercising all forms of stress built up within them, while being strenuous enough to cause him to break out in a sweat.
As such dark rings had formed around his eyes, and the lines of his face had become more pronounced.
Moreover a thin layer of stubble had formed, unchecked, across his cheeks, while he hair lay dishevelled and tousled. Though he loathed to submit his leisure clone to such harsh methods of change it would be necessary.
He smiled, possessed of a grim humour.
There had been little enough to do in the hours leading up to this moment but refer to the small Nanpali primer he'd brought with him and take a quiet please from his deception. Perhaps it was because they knew him that the deception was successful, though it mattered not, they were not the test. Were it not for these distractions he would have brooded over the conversation that had led him to this place, and all the reasons he should not have been present.
"Damnable Caldari" he muttered under his breath, thinking of the red eyed half-breed.
He shivered again as a slight burst of cool air was expelled from one of the vents behind his seat. This seemed to happen often, often enough for him to suspect this was the doing of their "captain". He could have moved at any time to another seat, but he didn't want to give the mysterious capsuleer the satisfaction.
He ignored if instead focusing on the list of Nanpali terms he had set himself to memorise in order to pass the time, mouthing the unfamiliar sounds quietly to perfect their pronunciation.
"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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Clockwork Jester
Namtar Elite
Gallente Federation
51
|
Posted - 2014.09.22 23:53:00 -
[8] - Quote
Noah sat in the relatively cramped confines of the frigates hold. The frigate was relatively small to begin with and whoever had designed the ship seemed intent on shoving as much as they could inside. While he appreciated their minimalist approach to design he had personally always found Caldari designs to be lacking in passion. It made the ship feel cold and uninviting, although that feeling was lessened some by sharing the cramped confines with others.
As Fae was giving a brief mission run down Noah was seated on the floor, arms resting on bent knees, and seemed to be intently observing the clove cigarette burning between his fingers. A small cloud of sweet smelling smoke hung above his head it was accompanied by a faint crackling a few times every minute. He was battling with himself about taking this mission. Some of the others may have viewed it as ridding the universe of a den of criminals and thieves, GÇ£sinnersGÇ¥ as the Templars had called them. Noah was not so sure. In his past life, before he had become immortal, he had been a member of the Angel Cartel. A criminal organization that called stations like this one home, he had once called places like Snowfall home. While it may have been a criminal infested station not everyone there was a criminal. Noah was wrestling with the possible implications of their actions.
At the edge of his vision he could see the station from one of the small portals in the ship. His gaze moved from the ceiling to the quickly approaching metal behemoth. He let out an almost inaudible sigh.
GÇ£No turning back now,GÇ¥ he thought to himself.
It was a lie and he knew it. There was always a choice, always another option. He took one final drag from his dwindling cigarette before putting it out on the metal floor.
Placing his hands on his knees Noah pushed himself to his feet, his muscles groaned slightly in protest, they were stiff from his prolonged inactivity. He shook his legs out to try and get his blood flowing again. As he was loosening up the Templars were going through their rituals. A slight grin found its way to his lips.
GÇ£Welcome to Parakone (Paradise),GÇ¥ he said it with a slightly sarcastic tone. As he spoke he pulled the hood of his ragged sweater up. The right side of the hood was adorned with his insignia.
GÇ£There are no gods here, only devils.GÇ¥ He said it quietly as a warning, and a reminder. |
Galm Fae
Eskola Ergonomics
323
|
Posted - 2014.09.25 03:02:00 -
[9] - Quote
The ship gave a slight jolt, tossing each mercenary about through the narrow hallways. The crew members couldn't help but snicker at the immortals as the clung tightly to any equipment they could find as the frigate was towed into station by a powerful gravity well. Galm could hardly be bothered, glancing up only once from his book before relaxing and letting the ship slowly drift into the station hanger. He had by that point located a rather comfortable position between the CO2 scrubber and the osmosis machine and had no inclination of moving until absolutely necessary. The book in question was particularly colorful, the front page depicting a series of animated Achuran schoolgirls armed to the teeth in Caldari weaponry. The title itself was written in Caldari block, but any mercenary could make an accurate assumption about the exact plot of the novel. He sat there silently for several minutes before finally slamming it shut and tucking it away behind a random section of piping. He shot to his feet, storming down the hallway banging away on anything metal to catch everyone's attention.
"Alright everyone, we've touched down! Drop your cocks and grab your socks, we're Oscar Mike on this!"
He looks around frantically for a moment before finally making eye contact with Vyzion.
"Make yourself ready doctor. Seems your going to be extra busy on this deployment. Take a member of the fire team with you and find the clinic on the station. I'd hardly call it a hospital, it's mostly used for holding clone reserves for capsuleers and producing Crash out the back. You can spend some time on the station first, but I need you in that drug lab before the first bomb goes off. Whoever you take with you get them nice a beat up. Shoot him in the foot, put him through the games, I don't care. Just make a reason to take him to the clinic. They can pat the two of you down all you like but they're never going to find that bomb in your belly."
That might have been a lie. The bomb wasn't in his belly as much as it was through his entire torso. All things considered, it was probably best that he didn't know quite the extent of his explosives, nor the amount of damage it would actually cause until after he had detonated. Galm laughed silently to himself, setting down the haul as he motioned for the other soldiers to follow him.
After several minutes of snaking through tight corridors and passages they at last made their way to a freight elevator. With great care, every member of the team managed to fit into it at once as it lowered itself down into the cargo hold. The hold itself seemed in a constant state of controlled anarchy. There was something moving in every direction, at every speed, at any angle. Missiles were being wheeled across the deck, small drones set about stocking proper supplies for the crew, and a single CRU sat dead center, casting and imposing image on the mortals below in the dim blue service lights. Fae made a point of storming up to the nearest chief and snagging him by the collar, snapping him around with enough force to make him bite his own tongue. The sailor yelped in shock, wiping at mouth to check for blood as Galm began pointing frantically at the cargo doors.
"How long until those open sailor?" he barked, expecting a swift response.
"Sixth mikesth sthir," he relayed, his swollen tongue impeding his speech, "Custhoms agents should do a sweep of the area, but passengers are free to disembark as soon as those doors open. The captain's already out of pod and filling out some minor paperwork with control."
Good.
He turned back to the soldiers, directing their attention to the massive pair of sliding doors framing the south side of the ship.
"You heard the sailor, make yourselves ready. If you have any questions, ask them now before those doors open. I find walking onto Snowfall is a bit like a beach landing. It can get a bit chaotic."
Kirjuun! Uakan!
Teknikiara!
Kanpai kameitsamuu!
Ra ra ra!
> --Confirmed Badguy Cera YC116--
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Vyzion Eyri
The Southern Legion
Final Resolution.
2469
|
Posted - 2014.09.25 14:26:00 -
[10] - Quote
"Roger that."
Vyzion turned and looked around at the other squad members. He grinned.
"I think I have a partner." He nods at Junko. Then he walks over and mutters in her ear: "I'd rather not have one of those spooky Templars with me, at any rate."
> Quis custodiet ipsos custodes?
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Hunter Junko
Sebiestor Field Sappers
Minmatar Republic
284
|
Posted - 2014.09.25 17:15:00 -
[11] - Quote
Hya'salia felt the familiar pull of the gravity Tethers as the ship lurched, along with the banging of the metal and the secondary briefing from her employer, she felt right at home.
she had traveled to Tenal once, on a Courier Contract; Hauling a load of supplies and isotopes to keep a few capsuleer stations running. but as far as the reigon , she had no idea, she hadnt ventured to any of the stations at that time. she also heard rumors of the "Starsmith" according to a few Spiritual Caldari.
but once the ship was docked her game plan was set; head to the medical hub, prep the explosives, and then go in guns blazing, at least that was the gist of it when she heard an old friend, Vyzion speak, while looking at her directly.
Vyzion Eyri wrote:
"I think I have a partner." He nods at Junko. Then he walks over and mutters in her ear: "I'd rather not have one of those spooky Templars with me, at any rate."
She Nodded back as he started walking towards her. after a while he motioned for her to lend him her ear.
"I'd rather not have one of those spooky Templars with me, at any rate." hearing that made Hya'salia chuckle lighty, with her arms folded across her chest.
"ahh they must be questioning themselves, since technically this station is full of the things they loathe... and besides, i've always wanted to see an amarrian react to a place like this, aside from Issac" she said, as they made way towards the Ship's entrance. |
Thal Vadam
Praetoriani Classiarii Templares
Praetoria Imperialis Excubitoris
33
|
Posted - 2014.09.25 19:51:00 -
[12] - Quote
Thal makes his way over towards the still closed landing door. He wasn't nervous, but he wasn't excited ether. There was so much filth on the other side of those great metal plates, filth it was his job to purge. He walked over to a crewmen and tapped him on the shoulder. The crewman turned to him and Thal pulled out a large golden blade. He gave it to the crewman and said.
"Take this to the hold. keep it safe. Don't loose it."
The crewman was shaking in fear at the warrior before him but carried out his order. Thal walked quietly behind Junko and Vyzion and he heard Vyzion say something about Spooky Templars. Thal grinned and said to Vyzion
"BOO!"
He chuckled to himself and walked right up to the doors. He was ready to plunge head first into sin.
"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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True Adamance
Praetoriani Classiarii Templares
Praetoria Imperialis Excubitoris
13378
|
Posted - 2014.09.26 03:53:00 -
[13] - Quote
(( Reserved Pending long and outrageously long exposition filled post that may or may not be contained within a single 6000 character limit))
"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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Clockwork Jester
Namtar Elite
Gallente Federation
56
|
Posted - 2014.09.27 17:18:00 -
[14] - Quote
As the ship was jostled about during the docking procedure Noah mumbled to himself, something about how unsafe ships were and how he prefered to have his feet on the ground. A previous experience had left him slightly paranoid about the integrity of the ships he was aboard. He could swear he could hear the metal hull of the ship groaning as it was docked with the station. A small wave of relief washed over the soldier as the ship finished its docking procedure.
Noah retrieved his bag from the cargo netting near the cargo ramp. From inside the bag he pulled out a crushed packet of cigarettes and a bottle filled with an unknown purplish liquid. He took a large sip, he had not realized how thirsty he was. For the majority of the trip he had been lost in thought, filtering through memories he had believed forgotten. Without really thinking he removed his vest and shoved it inside his bag, pushing it towards the bottom.
It had been a long time since he had been to a station such as Snowfall, a lifetime ago. Or in his case several hundred lifetimes ago. Although he was slightly anxious he kept his emotions in check. Unlike the Templars who probably loathed having to venture into such a place Noah relished the thought. There were no emperors or presidents or CEOGÇÖs to answer to. For the most part the only thing that spoke here was isk. It was the entire reason they were there, or at least the reason Noah had agreed to the mission. He was still struggling with the mission objective internally. Yes the man they were targeting was a despicable individual, but did the people of the station have to pay for his actions? To Noah there were other ways of dealing with a corrupt despot. Besides short of tearing the station apart there was always going to be someone to replace him.
Noah took in a deep breath of slightly stale recycled air.
Not that Noah had much room to speak, he had done worse things for less. Although he was anxious to get into the station proper a small part of him was nervous, almost afraid. He feared being recognized, something that should have been impossible. His clone, his current body, looked nothing like his original body. Then only thing that remained from his original body was the tattoo on his forearm, and that was common enough. When he had become immortal he had decided to start over, a clean slate. That was part of the reason his leisure clone looked so generic. His original body was on ice, although he had wanted to start over he could not bring himself to completely destroy his body, even though it was now just a frozen corpse. Noah had a habit of collecting trinkets or objects to commemorate or memorialize major events. Perhaps that was the reason he could not completely destroy his original body.
GÇ£No matter how far away you get, never forget where you came from.GÇ¥ His mother'sGÇÖ words echoed in his head. They were unusual words to be reminded of. His former life as an angel was a long ways away from where he came from. It also didnGÇÖt help that he hated hearing his mother'sGÇÖ voice.
The digits on his right hand started tapping against his thumb, like he was typing something, or counting. It was a fairly recent habit he had picked up. He started doing it when he was anxious and trying to sort through his thoughts, almost like he was trying to pull out a memory or thought out of the air. He needed the door to open quickly so that he could focus on the task at hand.
GÇ£Let me know if any of you are planning on throwing a fight, I could use the extra isk.GÇ¥
Noah planned to check out the tournament and place a few bets. It was more to get a better understanding of the station than a gambling addiction. Depending on how things went the other immortals in the tournament could pose a considerable problem. He wanted to figure out the most optimal course of action. Cripple the stations ability to respond to a threat as much as possible with his own bomb.
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Clockwork Jester
Namtar Elite
Gallente Federation
56
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Posted - 2014.09.27 17:18:00 -
[15] - Quote
As the ship was jostled about during the docking procedure Noah mumbled to himself, something about how unsafe ships were and how he prefered to have his feet on the ground. A previous experience had left him slightly paranoid about the integrity of the ships he was aboard. He could swear he could hear the metal hull of the ship groaning as it was docked with the station. A small wave of relief washed over the soldier as the ship finished its docking procedure.
Noah retrieved his bag from the cargo netting near the cargo ramp. From inside the bag he pulled out a crushed packet of cigarettes and a bottle filled with an unknown purplish liquid. He took a large sip, he had not realized how thirsty he was. For the majority of the trip he had been lost in thought, filtering through memories he had believed forgotten. Without really thinking he removed his vest and shoved it inside his bag, pushing it towards the bottom.
It had been a long time since he had been to a station such as Snowfall, a lifetime ago. Or in his case several hundred lifetimes ago. Although he was slightly anxious he kept his emotions in check. Unlike the Templars who probably loathed having to venture into such a place Noah relished the thought. There were no emperors or presidents or CEOGÇÖs to answer to. For the most part the only thing that spoke here was isk. It was the entire reason they were there, or at least the reason Noah had agreed to the mission. He was still struggling with the mission objective internally. Yes the man they were targeting was a despicable individual, but did the people of the station have to pay for his actions? To Noah there were other ways of dealing with a corrupt despot. Besides short of tearing the station apart there was always going to be someone to replace him.
Noah took in a deep breath of slightly stale recycled air.
Not that Noah had much room to speak, he had done worse things for less. Although he was anxious to get into the station proper a small part of him was nervous, almost afraid. He feared being recognized, something that should have been impossible. His clone, his current body, looked nothing like his original body. Then only thing that remained from his original body was the tattoo on his forearm, and that was common enough. When he had become immortal he had decided to start over, a clean slate. That was part of the reason his leisure clone looked so generic. His original body was on ice, although he had wanted to start over he could not bring himself to completely destroy his body, even though it was now just a frozen corpse. Noah had a habit of collecting trinkets or objects to commemorate or memorialize major events. Perhaps that was the reason he could not completely destroy his original body.
GÇ£No matter how far away you get, never forget where you came from.GÇ¥ His mother'sGÇÖ words echoed in his head. They were unusual words to be reminded of. His former life as an angel was a long ways away from where he came from. It also didnGÇÖt help that he hated hearing his mother'sGÇÖ voice.
The digits on his right hand started tapping against his thumb, like he was typing something, or counting. It was a fairly recent habit he had picked up. He started doing it when he was anxious and trying to sort through his thoughts, almost like he was trying to pull out a memory or thought out of the air. He needed the door to open quickly so that he could focus on the task at hand.
GÇ£Let me know if any of you are planning on throwing a fight, I could use the extra isk.GÇ¥
Noah planned to check out the tournament and place a few bets. It was more to get a better understanding of the station than a gambling addiction. Depending on how things went the other immortals in the tournament could pose a considerable problem. He wanted to figure out the most optimal course of action. Cripple the stations ability to respond to a threat as much as possible with his own bomb.
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steadyhand amarr
shadows of 514
3384
|
Posted - 2014.09.27 19:13:00 -
[16] - Quote
Steady glared out window next to landing door. In his lifetime he had done more landing than he cared to think about, however he could count this one as a first. Infiltrating an know hive of trouble in middle deadspace with a merry band of misfits but rather than go out guns blazing there will pretend to be taking part in tournament. And then go balls to walls crazy and blow everything up in site, he didnGÇÖt understand the fore play but this was not he op so it didnGÇÖt matter.
Steady has been to a number of tournaments even won the first of its kind. His name was sure to known so his appearance was not likely to cause much trouble other than upstarts with something to prove, counting his known reputation of being unstable to carry him around the station without much trouble his only worry was guards being on edge and being pusher than normal he decied to come up with a mental check list of places to cause trouble to both aid blending in and keep security forces busy.
GÇ£right IGÇÖm going have to check in at the Bar, and the local stripper joint once the big boys show up, then b-line to registration to make sure i keep the cover going, then get into another fight killing one of combats to get disqualified, and finally somehow get to admin to plug myself into the PA system and start spouting faith rubbish to keep the mercs off balance to whatGÇÖs goingGÇ¥
Simply enough steady thought to himself, GÇ£as long as no one out crazies me we should be ok and the odds of that are pretty low...oh i totally need to get 514 blasting out that should really screw with themGÇ¥ a low grone from the ship shakes steady from his day dreaming. The ship making final preps I better find a partner for the early stages for this madness.
Another one of the templar was playing with the nervous of team and had squared up to door alongside the others. Steady made sure his hood hid his face, couldn't risk a templar freaking out over old wanted posters, but made the point of voice carrying to Templar
GÇ£HI, names steady hand, donGÇÖt mind the get up its just for show, not sure what your plan is when we get down there, but we need to shake off the fact we are walking targets, fancy starting a bar fight nice distraction for the guys in the fight and we get to kill a few sinners on the way.GÇ¥
You can never have to many chaples
-Templar True adamance
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Vyzion Eyri
The Southern Legion
Final Resolution.
2472
|
Posted - 2014.09.28 12:59:00 -
[17] - Quote
Vyzion flashes a sheepish grin at Thal. "Actually, Templar Vadam, we may have to get chummy after all."
Vyzion takes a step back and forms a triangle with Junko and Thal, and addresses both.
"So here's my plan. Both of you get into this gladiator deathmatch thing and crush the other competitors until you're up against each other. The boss wants me in the drug labs and I have a way to get in there without arousing too much suspicion. Thal, you'll end up beating Junko -make it look real but please don't tear her arms off because that'll be too much work for me-, I'll appear as the arena medical team leader, take her to the clinic and we'll work together to get the the drug lab from there.
After that Thal, it's really up to you how you continue through the tournament. Personally though I don't want to get involved in the fighting at all. I have better things to do, and besides, getting punched in the stomach could accidentally set off the explosives in my body."
Vyzion shivers again as he waits for the bay doors to open. His thoughts drift to the station itself. Rev had told him about pirate stations, and the stories were far from comforting. Many think the outlaws, as their name suggests, live outside of law. But no society can be completely lawless. It came down to power. Because whilst the empires regulated their own powers through religion, corporations, democracy and tradition, there is no such regulation with the pirate factions. They let their power feed on itself, growing exponentially and consuming everything around them.
The medic-pilot only hoped he was not also consumed.
> Quis custodiet ipsos custodes?
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Galm Fae
Eskola Ergonomics
326
|
Posted - 2014.09.29 05:10:00 -
[18] - Quote
True warriors always wore masks. Not to hide their identity mind you, but to become something greater than themselves. Masks hid our more human flaws cast them aside in favor of a much more fearsome disposition. There would be no emotion, no closure of identity. All that remained was the raw, unrestricted might of the soldier behind the facade. Standing there in cargo hull, it began to dawn on Galm that he had grown far too reliant on his helmet to mask the man that hid inside the armor. Flawed, human features began to bleed through without a dropsuit to hinder them. A large, unsettling grin slowly began to free itself from the corners of his lips before gaining complete control of his features. Even behind his flesh however, another set of emotions began to brew. Something... Far more complex. Something that had to be hidden behind the one mask he could never remove.
With a tremendous groan, the cargo doors began to pull away and reveal the station beyond. The frigate, wedged between a set of corroded scaffolding, had come to rest on a concrete loading bay adjacent to a massive customs office. Security teams ducked forward and back between multiple lines of passengers, occasionally pulling two or three men aside at a time as a slaver hound sniffed up and down their pant legs. The dogs, while certainly intimidating, weren't actually trained in anything of course. Instead the station security would simply let their mutt prod away at every possible orifice until the traveler developed the good sense to pay the patrol off. When that didn't work, the violence would start. The dogs would begin to get much more aggressive while promises of detainment and accusations of contraband were thrown about with reckless abandon. If the poor sailor failed to reciprocate after such a display, he or she would be escorted to an iron door on the far side of the nearest gate at gunpoint. What happened after that was any man's guess.
Steam rose from all manners of gutters and grates across the landing pad, the white plumes drifting far above the endless crowd and providing a starch contrast to the dim orange light of the low-temperature spotlights being projected from the main gate. The gate itself was concrete as well, covered in all matters of graffiti that had been encouraged by the Guristas as an art form. The tall fence was marked periodically with different access points leading to separate corridors of the station. Beyond each access point lay a series of more wire gates that would occasionally turn in on themselves and lead back into narrow corridors that would contain yet more guards waiting to be paid off, their bright green machine guns clearly brandished for anyone foolish enough to disrespect their authority. Only after pressing through this labyrinth would a pilgrim have their chance to lay eyes on the true wonders of Snowfall Station.
Not every mortal made it through. Most didn't. But those who knew how to play the system... The high rollers who could grease every palm from here to New Caldari, the easy kakku whores who knew exactly how to touch each bouncer along the way, and to the capsuleers who could so boldly evade the entire system while looking down on the mortals from their ivory tower... The lights beyond the gates would be blinding. Whatever you sought, a flashing neon light would guide you to exactly where you need to go. Attached to the tunnel system were buildings upon buildings all interconnected by winding stairways and poorly lit alleys leading to slums and bordellos alike. Casinos, clubs, bars, ballrooms, auctions, assemblies, and arenas were all out there somewhere among countless others who had all spent everything they had to even arrive at the edifice of such a sprawl.
And there stood Galm, for the first time in a long time, at the first step of the decent. Kador, the poor Udorian, had already run along to the shortest line. His enthusiasm, while admirable, may have been somewhat misplace. The 'fast lane' as occupants had come to call it, was known for having the most direct route into the station. The bribes to clear it, however, were simply astronomical and the guards had developed a reputation for being the least tolerant of those who could not immediately pay the fee. It was certainly nothing a mercenary couldn't afford, but Fae had the feeling Kador would be unaccustomed to the nuisances of kissing a pirate's ass. Figuring it would be poor form to allow the Templar to continue on Galm disembarked, quickly vanishing into the crowd. He pressed past as many wet-headed mundanes as possible, who easily fell to the side in fear of protesting and catching the guard's attention. He got as close to Ouryon as he could, waving frantically to catch his attention to apparently no avail. Perhaps he was overwhelmed by the scenery... Perhaps he was actively trying to ignore Fae. Both options seemed likely.
Fae's waving grew in intensity, his calls more jarring as he called for attention over the roar of heavy machinery in the hanger.
"GODS DAMN IT TEMPL!-- AHHHH!"
His sentence was cut comically short as he hollered in pain. Reacting immediately, Galm shook his leg as he looked down to see a slaver hound tugging powerfully on his cargo pants. Beside him stood a guard, his appearance far less professional than his title would imply. There was no uniform to speak of, only a dingy tan zip-up hoodie and a knitted scarf that dangled lazily from his shoulders.
"Sir..." he began condescendingly, tugging at the leash of the animal, "Y'pear to be causing a domestic disturbance. That warrants a fee on this side o' the wall, and proper identification."
"Cute," Galm spat, trying to shake the hound off as he passed the young man his passport, "Did your mom make you that scarf?"
"Sir, that's insulting an officer of the law, am I going to need to pull you a--"
He froze, staring at Galm's paperwork.
Kirjuun! Uakan!
Teknikiara!
Kanpai kameitsamuu!
Ra ra ra!
> --Confirmed Badguy Cera YC116--
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Vyzion Eyri
The Southern Legion
Final Resolution.
2474
|
Posted - 2014.09.29 10:18:00 -
[19] - Quote
Vyzion gulped as the Crow's bay opened, revealing to those inside that they were already inside the stomach of a much, much larger predator.
His eyes were met with cold grey steel and concrete that appeared slick and icy under the orange glow. His ears were instantly assaulted by the general cacophony of noise, pierced by the yelps of slaver hounds and, more horrific, desperate cries of people who could not find a way through what appeared to be a maze of an entrance, guarded by corrupt customs.
As a medic, Vyzion strongly believed in reading another being's pulse to assess its condition. He hated the readout his dropsuit gave him, preferring even in the middle of combat to kneel by an injured comrade, bare both his and their hands (within a protective repairhive bubble if the atmosphere was unsafe for bare skin) and find the pulse in the wrist. As he became more experienced, interaction as simple as eye contact revealed that pulse to him.
And after two years as a clone soldier witnessing countless deaths, his own or otherwise, and attempting to salvage life in innumerable situations, he had come to realise that anything that was alive, had a pulse.
And Snowfall was alive. The medic closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. Augmented nostrils accepted the stench of human sweat and waste, salivating slaver hounds, oily hair, cheap synthetic perfumes barely hiding residual wafts of smoke from cheaper cigarettes, and underneath all of it the metallic tang of the station itself.
There it was. Faint, but perceptible: the station's pulse. Violent and inconsistent, but unceasing. A place where you could get lost as soon as you step off your ship if you did not have the will to resist being swept away by the tide of progress that only encroached and never receded.
Galm Fae wrote:Figuring it would be poor form to allow the Templar to continue on Galm disembarked
As he analysed the scene before him, the contractor leapt off of the Interceptor, following a hooded mercenary who slipped through the cargo doors as they had just cracked open.
Vyzion smiled weakly and spoke over his shoulder at Junko and Thal. "Anyway, if you didn't like that plan, it's all good. We can come up with something later; let us see if we can actually get into Snowfall first."
With that he hops down and lands crouched, slowing getting up and putting his hands in his pockets. A small sigh emitted a wisp of steam between his lips, and Vyzion watched as it curled up slowly and was absorbed instantly by a belch of steam from a nearby grate to join the hazy cloud above all their heads.
Here we go.
> Quis custodiet ipsos custodes?
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steadyhand amarr
shadows of 514
3388
|
Posted - 2014.09.29 17:11:00 -
[20] - Quote
posting (t-mines 1 hour just proof reading)
You can never have to many chaples
-Templar True adamance
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steadyhand amarr
shadows of 514
3388
|
Posted - 2014.09.29 18:46:00 -
[21] - Quote
While the guard was Steady had slowly stated reaching down to the slaver hound his, countless years on the battlefield and his modded clone making him appear unnaturally fast, twisting and shifting his hands away from the hounds frantic attempts to bight him, before the guards hand finished speaking he already had the hound by its neck. Making a show all could see his used his cloneGÇÖs strength to pick it up and hold the dog outside of its limited claw range the animal panicking it did everything it could to try and break free but found it lost the strength to even raise it legs.
Steady never took his eyes away from the guard the whole time looking at him with his burning bronze eyes. An unnatural quite had formed allowing everyone to clearly here the animals neck slowly break the poor hound letting out a horrific sequel before it went limp. Steady dropped it to the ground as a lifeless lump.
GÇ£I think your pet is brokenGÇ¥ steadys voice growled
GÇ£holy ****....**** GET HIMGÇ¥
Within moments steady was sounded rounded by guards. He counted 10 in total, if these where clones he was in trouble but mortals where slow and stupid. As he slowly and swiftly took stock of the situation he saw other mercs on the railing and among the crowd paying attention to his little display perfectly he thought as expected the local talent only care about finding more talent.
GÇ£may the empress guiding light see you to heavenGÇ¥ spoke steady in a peaceful tone before shedding his robes leaving only his basic garments and his full clone on display, he could not risk a stray punch stetting of the bombs in the robe.
No sooner had he done so, than the guard in his blind spot rushed him. A smart move had it not been for his heavy boots impacting loudly on the ground below alerting steady to his rush. With countless years of training experience of a million battles steady dropped to the ground and spun his leg knocking the merc into air, recovering to his full height before the merc landed steady landed a crushing blow to his mid section. Steady noted the fool was not wherein any amour his ribs easily breaking under the blow as the force drove back into the crowd.
Recovering into a marshal stance steady noticed two more mercs had wasted no time and rushed him with batons drawn. Steadly calmly waited until they were in striking distance. One a single stride he stepped into the reach of the first guard grabbing his hand and twisting cause it break steady threw him behind using the gaurd natural built up speed to carry him onwards. With a swift sweep around the falling mans body steady landing a crashing blow into the seconds guard face breaking his jaw and shattering his teeth, grabbing the falling baton the poor fool had released to hold his broken face, steady spun round and used it to crashed down on the head of as a crying man was holding his broken hand. The brutality was not lost on the others as the shifted uncomfortably. Not looking to lose the initiative steady took two big strides into the next guard who at this point was now gripped in fear and locked in place. Steady picking up on this fact as he approached. Stopped just short of contact, and instead took the guards arm he had raised to protect itself and took hold of it. In two powerful blows broke the arm in-between the guardGÇÖs amour.
The Guard let out a howl as the room erupted into a wall of noise.
GÇ£today 4 sinners and have felt the empressGÇÖs wrathGÇ¥ steadys voice boomed across the cheers as he towered over the only guards not smart enough to move.
GÇ£oh ******* hell lads just shoot himGÇ¥ the final guard spoke in desperation
Steady not missing a beat snapped up the guard in front of him and lowered himself behind him the poor man taking the full force of 5 guns been empted into him. The battle high of the situation took over steady, the smell of rail rounds overpowering him the screams of people diving for cover and metallic smell of blood. Screaming he charged forward holding the lifeless guard as cover. The final guards in their panic fumbled there reloading; only one managed it in time to see body of his dead friend fly into his face. As the others looked up in horror their final images where steady taking hold of the bolt pistol thrown into the air and landing 3 perfect shots, hitting the mid section of each man. The results only a cloned merc could manage. Without looking steady fired the last round into the head of the fallen guard desperately trying to get out under the lifeless body.
The final original guard looked in fear his body and mind failing him as steady approached. The next few moments of his life where steady breaking each major bone in his body before finally lifting him up a broken mess and proclaiming
GÇ£I AM STEADYHAND_AMARR SEE WHAT AWAITS ALL THOSE THAT STAND IN MY WAYGÇ¥ bringing a exclamation mark to his point he brought the guard crashing down to his knee breaking his spine.
The room had dropped silent as steady restored his robes. Looking up he was suddenly faced with a merc in a dropsuit even steady new his limits and instead simply hoped the station management got the message.
GÇ£Can i help youGÇ¥ he spoke with a dry tone
You can never have to many chaples
-Templar True adamance
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Thal Vadam
Praetoriani Classiarii Templares
Praetoria Imperialis Excubitoris
34
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Posted - 2014.09.29 20:45:00 -
[22] - Quote
Thal nodded to Vyzion and Junko.
"I like the plan. Junko, meet me outside the arena entrance. We'll finalize the details there."
And with that, Thal disappeared into the swarms of people heading towards the checkpoint. The smell was overwhelming, and if he wasn't prepared, he would have passed out. It was the normal smell crime had. The worst humanity had ever produced was sitting on this one station. However, Thal felt strangely comfortable in the crowd. He could blend in easy with the countless refugees and merchants crowding the docks. Thankfully, he was relatively close to the entrance checkpoint. As he walked up, a massive Brutor man pushed Thal out of the way and took his spot in the line. Thal staggered back and frowned at the man
"Excuse me sir, I believe that is my spot"
"What are you going to do about it slaver scum?"
Before the Brutor could do anything, Thal grabbed his arm and threw him through the air a few feet. Thal wiped his hand on his cloak.
"I'm not a slaver, nor do I appreciate your racism. If you'll excuse me, I have a tournament to win."
The Brutor jumped up and charged at Thal
"HOW CAN YOU WIN IF YOUR DEAD!"
He threw a punch at Thal, but Thal sidestepped and buried his elbow into the beast of a man's stomach. The Brutor reeled back and fell to the floor, a mixture of blood and saliva drooling from his mouth.
"I don't know, you tell me"
Thal took his place back in the line as it was his turn to check in. A young Gallente woman was sitting at the sign in desk. She had her head buried in a pile of datapads.
"Hello sir welcome to Snowfall, please show me your papers."
Thal pulled out a datapad and passed it to her. As she looked up, she examined him all over, she then gave a smile and said
"Your pretty handsome for an Amarrian. Your papers check out, you need anything else?"
Thal shivered on the inside
"Yes, I'm not here. As in this meeting never took place."
Her smile didn't dip.
"That'll cost a bit more hun."
She winks at him. Thal shuddered. He knew Ahliya would kill him for this, but what she didn't know wouldn't hurt her.
"Perhaps later, where should I meet you?"
"My apartment on level 4, room 143"
She clicked a button and the door opened. Thal ran through and melted into the crowd. He had no intention of meeting the woman at her place, almost felt sorry for her. Thal looked up and saw the arena, and he started his pace quickly to get there.
"Please be there Junko."
And with that, Thal vanished into the crowd.
"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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Galm Fae
Eskola Ergonomics
327
|
Posted - 2014.09.29 22:36:00 -
[23] - Quote
Quote: He froze, staring at Galm's paperwork.
"W-- Wait a tick there. I need to get this authorized friend... Eh, that's gonna cost a fee as well."
The guard relaxed his stance, letting the slaver hound back away from Galm and come to rest at his feet. He pulls a small datapad out of his back pocket and begins in enter all matters of digits and symbols. Every few seconds the phone vibrates, indicate that whoever he was in contact with was responding rather rapidly. In those few awkward moments Fae could take a much closer look at the Gurista before him. He was young... Far too young to be in such a life. His face said he was no more than 19, though his rugged shadow and sunken eyes told a much more tragic story. It had grown commonplace in the shattered regions of New Eden to see a brighteyed teenage idealest voyage fearlessly into the stars to stake their claim and reach their dreams. Life, unfortunately, was rarely kind to such youth. There was no time for innocents or morality. You either learn to adapt or you died, simple as that. With each buzz the guard looked more and more concerned, eventually he looks up and opens his mouth to speak.
That was when the shooting happened. He didn't know exactly how it started, nor did it truly matter this far into hell. There were civilian screams and hollers as Guristas fell one after the next just behind Galm's position. By the time the madness ended, five mortals lay dead around Steadyhand. Fae wasn't entirely sure how to react. Months of planning, hours of briefing, days of anticipation all seemed to melt away around him as he made eye contact with the soldier. His breathing began to run ragged as he drifted backwards toward the Templar, not quite sure of what he was doing. There was a click of a round being chambered, then absolute silence. Fae spun around, looking back at the guard and his hound that he had just spoken with. The young man had his submachinegun shouldered, the Toxin weapon aimed perfectly at Galm and his cohort. He began to shake violently as a series of sobs forced their way up his throat.
"Pixy!" he barked, "Yeah, it's you, ain't it? I remember ya'! Had a month's salary stacked on you at the games last year when you walked off the station! Now you're getting in the way of this chickenshit Amarr after he k--"
The word came out incomplete, trailing off into another sob before be began again.
"Killed five of my friends! That guy there? The one he filled with lead? He had a gods damn family! The other one, he was gonna get married! Piece of **** thinks he can walk into our station and ju--"
"Let me handle it," Fae breathed, stepping forward just slightly.
"No, no, this is our job! Now move or I'll gun you down too hero!"
Fae held his ground, motioning for the boy to lower his weapon.
"This guy's with me," he began, "My soldier, my property. He's a good fighter, and Grabarcs gonna want to see him. But I'm not letting him walk away from this, alright? He's mine to damage."
He nodded slightly, letting his weapon drop to his hip as Galm made his way over to the first generation mercenary. He got as close as possible, his boots squared with the towering Amarr. Fae may have been good foot shorter than him, but that did nothing to stop his bravado. He eyed Steadyhand up and down, seething powerfully through a set of clenched teeth.
"Take the beating," Galm growled quietly, "Take the beating, and you can get out of this with full pay. Trust me."
He didn't wait for a response. Galm's first blow was absolutely savage, making full contact with David's temples as Fae used his head to ram him to the ground. He knew he could risk a body shot as long as his team members were wearing their vests, so the face was the only obvious choice for striking as he climbed atop the soldier and began to hammer his fists down one after the other. Synthetic blood began to leak, though he wasn't sure if it was from his own knuckles or David's eye. Still he pressed on, driving one blow after another into his orbital until he was worried he had permanently disfigured the Templar. He breathed for a moment, remembering that any damage to an immortal was temporary, then continue to strike downward without hesitation.
When he finished he rose from the soldier leaving him to bleed on the concrete floor as Galm shook out his bloody fists. The guard came running by, pulling him away to stop him from doing any further damage to himself.
"Alright! Alright!" he boomed, sounding far too excited, "That's the old Pixy I remember! Gods damn, you haven't lost your touch! The boss is going to want to see you personally!"
"Least I could do," Galm huffed, looking down at he crumpled soldier who was quickly trying to regain his footing, "The soldier was my responsibility. He's a first generate you see, not of sound mind. I wouldn't expect him to understand concepts like respect. But I was hoping Zippang could see his potential as a fighter."
"Well I think you've proved that much mate. Best let the man get cleaned up while you tend to old business. No use waiting through the blasted lines here. Got any other mates I should kno'ov?"
"Yeah... Two Templars, a Matari, and two Gallente."
"Well I'll see to it that they aren't bothered by the guards then. Least I could do for an old champion!"
He gives Galm a playful jab to the stomach, but pulls away quickly as soon as it makes contact. Galm stood there, unphased without even flinching as he shakes he hands out.
Kirjuun! Uakan!
Teknikiara!
Kanpai kameitsamuu!
Ra ra ra!
> --Confirmed Badguy Cera YC116--
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True Adamance
Praetoriani Classiarii Templares
Praetoria Imperialis Excubitoris
13387
|
Posted - 2014.09.30 00:05:00 -
[24] - Quote
The line moved quickly, papers, pat down, bribe, papers, pat down, bribe.
It was simple, functioned like oiled clockwork.
Kador spent the five minutes in the line staring down at the back of the woman in front of him running through his story. She wore a leather jacket, dark, scarred leather, fabric fraying at the edges where time and use had worn away at its surface, a pair of loose fitting camouflaged khaki trousers resting low on the hips. He also noticed oddly that her midriff was exposed as if it was something she wanted people to look at.
He perished the thought, his understanding of these things were limited, for who would actually wish that kind of impropriety on themselves......and yet he was looking.
It's the role, he told himself firmly. Kaldrin would....no has to do this
It was a simple and, he hoped, believable story he had been told, something these people would love to play into. The whole notion sounded ridiculous to him but who was he to judge, he was playing as far out of home field as possible.
He noted Galm nearby in conversation with one of the security officers, a slaver tugging at his cargo pants, he notices a few of the others gathering brief glimpses of them through the crowd. He saw Steadyhand however, at the end of one of the lines surrounded by a half dozen security guardsmen, his voice booming.
Kador turned away, ignoring the scene, focusing on the check point ahead of him. Finally the queue melted away before him leaving him standing at the head of the line confronted with a grizzled looking security guard, balding, streaks of grey in his hair a bored look on his face, and another younger man with violet eyes sitting in a booth behind a dense steel mesh glaring out at him.
It was the security that approached him first, a single hand held out before him in the universal gesture to stop, other hand fingering the bodywork of his gun with an trained precision.
"Yer goin' te haf to remove the robes Jaijii." He stated calmly. "Can't haf no baka like you walkn' in ere whirout a check."
The man's dialect was rural, fragmented, Kador could barely make sense of it. He recognised the term for his robes Instead he simply nodded.
He raised his hands to release the cords that held the cloak tight around his neck, noting with a certain approval as the security officer neither flinched or took his eyes of the Amarrian hands as they moved about beneath the cloak. It dropped away with a muffled thump piling up on the floor about his ankles.
Beneath it he had been wearing a lavish outfit, the produce of some Amarrian designer he'd never heard of until recently. A velvety black doublet which cut a striking figure fanning out at the shoulders giving his upper torso a triangular look. A silver embroider ran about the neck and shoulders in the flowing pattern of glory vines, small leaves and dainty petals peeling off from the stems at irregular intervals. He also wore dark leather legging of a tougher material twin lines of silver running along the hems, and along the stitching.
With a clinical precision the guardsman went to work roughly patting him down, working the length of his arms, chest, and legs. Once he was satisfied the Amarrian had no concealed weapon he stepped back taking the cloak from the floor and throwing it over his shoulder.
"Clean" the Guardsman nodded, proffering a meaty palm. A moment later his eyes were bulging was as a 100 ISK chit dropped into his palm, he waved Kador on to the booth and started to take to the next on the queue with a renewed vigour.
As he approached the booth he drew forth the papers he had been provided with before they had arrived, unfurling them and readying them for presentation.
"Paper's Plea..... right" came a softer voice from within the booth snatching the papers from his extended hands. " Well Mr..... Kaldrin Oussariun what's you business at Shoashu Saasanko?"
"Oussurian. But uh...call me Kal" He corrected quickly, trying to project his voice through the thick mesh at the man beneath, lowering his head to the window. He sounded oddly confident, like he used to back before....... "Out to tour the Tenal Circuit, here to fight in the tournament , and win or loose looking for a good time a couple of girls...... you don't see much... well you know in the Empire."
The rustling of paper stopped briefly interrupted by a chuckle, the violet eyes flicked over the the security guard, who stopped mid way through patting a down one of the other "pilgrims". Custom's Officer addressed the Guardsman in some kind of language Kador could not understand but the pique at the end indicated a question.
The exchange was a quick backwards and forwards between the pair, Custom's agent chuckling mixed with a rough barking of a particularly long winded exposition on the part of the older man.
"More than free to go in Jaijii once you take care of the Custom's Fee's for the administration and registration.... I'm afraid you will have to step out of line to complete the forms....we cannot have you holding up other patrons you under stand."
The eyes flicked back to him and he thought he saw a flash of overly whitened teeth. With a sigh be drew his NeoCom to receive the registration data, and left the line to fill it in. He returned to Customs Officer a momment later., no doubt he'd be paying those bribes again however he attentions were drawn to a brutal scene. Galm set upon Steady with a brutal efficiency levelling blow after blow at the man's head leaving him a wreck, and stepping away with bloodstained fists.
"Well if Howe says you are worth the time of day then I guess you are. You just don't look the type y'know, took you for some ponce Amarr fop out of Mehkios or some **** y'know. That one there is a real fighter. I pity you kid you signed on to fight him."
"We were commanded to burn the system...We did. I mourn the loss of the innocents caught in our fires" -Kador Ouryon
|
Clockwork Jester
Namtar Elite
Gallente Federation
58
|
Posted - 2014.09.30 00:27:00 -
[25] - Quote
As the doors opened another slight wave of relief washed over him. He had not expected to be so glad to be on a station.
Jester remained in the CrowGÇÖs cargo hold while he examined the small mass of humanity below. He watched as the guards went about shaking down the new arrivals and watched as the members of his team split up, going in different directions, trying to disappear within the crowd. He watched them get swept up in the crowd as they headed towards the gates. Noah had no intention of trying his luck with the unpredictable guards or the system. He had gone through enough pirate run facilities to know where to go. The soldier slung his bag over his shoulder.
Taking a quick, deep breath Jester descended down the cargo ramp. He moved not with the heavy and menacing steps of his immortal companions but with ones that were unusually light considering his size. Noah moved with grace and purpose as he entered into the crowd.
The immortal soldier moved swiftly through the crowd, using his right hand as a feeler, and gently nudging people out of his way. He managed to move through the crowd with minimal opposition, only a handful of colourful words were exchanged. Noah had managed to nearly make it to the checkpoint when everyone seemed to feel the need to start beating on the guards.
GÇ£Damn TemplarsGÇ¥ he spoke loud enough for those around him to hear, almost all of them nodded their heads in agreement.
He swooped towards the commotion, cutting through the gathering crowd. Noah watched on as Steady needlessly murdered five guards, and saw as Thal pointlessly murdered one of the new arrivals. As the man fell to his knees, blood coming out of his mouth Noah's left hand started to move towards his back. His arm moved quickly, but it slowly returned to his side holding nothing. The soldier had decided against drawing his bolt pistol. If it were up to him he would have put a dozen rounds through each of their heads without a second thought, but it wasnGÇÖt his call, he wasnGÇÖt running the show.
His face had contorted into one of surprise and disgust, matching those around him. He may have been immortal but he felt that life was worth more, and he had fully expected the Templars to have similar views. Or at least he believed they did. He did not agree with their religion but he at least respected it. The lack of respect and value for life the two Templars displayed had his respect for them waning. Not to mention that one of the Templars was supposed to be their damn medic.
GÇ£Have a little respect.GÇ¥ He hissed through gritted teeth.
Stations like Snowfall may have been filled with criminals but they were far from the barbarians the big four often painted them to be. They were rough and sometimes prone to violence but they were simply trying to survive. Places like Snowfall ran on respect, and unwritten laws, and at the moment they were effectively spitting on them. The people gathered here were not all violent sociopaths, they were simply desperate individuals fighting to survive.
Jester watched silently as Galm dealt with the issue. It was brutal but in this case necessary violence. The only positive outcome was that they had gained entrance into the station proper, and obtained an appointment with their main target.
Noah found himself standing near Fae as the situation calmed down. He had originally planned to explore the station, gathering intel on key locations to hit. His plans had changed considerably in the last few minutes, he could not pass up the opportunity to meet the primary target face to face.
GÇ£IGÇÖm going to the meeting with you.GÇ¥ His voice was soft, but he spoke loudly enough to be heard clearly.
|
Vyzion Eyri
The Southern Legion
Final Resolution.
2477
|
Posted - 2014.09.30 01:52:00 -
[26] - Quote
Vyzion had not taken a step when Steady, as he had introduced himself on-board the interceptor, leapt into the fray and attracted the attention of numerous guards with his colourful garb. Like moths to a flame...
He continued to observe as Steady worked his way through them, dispatching lives with ruthless efficiency. Vyzion sighed. Most would have assumed he sighed for the lost lives. However he had long ago learned to put the past where it belonged: behind him. He sighed because he knew that he himself could have taken those lives with the same speed, brutality and precision.
Thal Vadam wrote:"I like the plan. Junko, meet me outside the arena entrance. We'll finalize the details there."
Another Templar left the safe bubble of their ship and dove into the seething mass before them. Thal also let the madness sway him and a Brutor, noticing Thal's Amarrian clothing also, paid the price for stirring the pot, as it were.
The medic didn't blame the Amarrians. Their faith and religion gave them immense strength and (funnily enough) an almost unholy fervour on the battlefield. When you fight alongside them on one side of a contract, mere phrases they mutter from the Scriptures seem to empower them with godlike attributes.
It also, however, blinded them partially to the complexities of the universe. Vyzion was unsurprised that Shoashu Saasanko's vitality would prove too much for their pure hearts to handle. How could they see these godless, dirty non-believers living a miserable subsistence without resorting to faith to save them, as humans? It was this same logic that allowed them to be so powerful on the battlefields. All that were opposed to their religion had to be converted or killed, and when you're immortal the best way to convert you was to kill you so many times you joined the other side.
They were simply doing what they were programmed to do by their own beliefs. Which meant that Vyzion could deduce there was a high chance that the hooded mercenary that ran off before anyone else was most likely Amarrian, with a little more constraint, attempting to pierce through customs before he let the duality of faith and reality tear his mind apart. Not to mention the hood was really a dead giveaway.
Religion, as Vyzion saw it, eliminated the grey. It was black and white, or in this case, GOLD and every other colour. He chuckles at that image as he walks slowly over to Steady as Fae defuses the situation with a vicious beating. When he finishes the Intaki-Civire starts to chat with the guard who had stopped him before. Fae points towards the Crow and identifies the rest of the squad already around the docks. The guard nods and jabs him before heading off.
He slices through the stinking, chattering throng with ease, slipping between the natural gaps that could be found in a crowd where pace was mismatched and personal space was enforced. He stepped out into the area where the five corpses lay strewn around Steady and Fae. He nods towards Galm.
Steady was already on his knees, trying to get up. The medic calmly pushed him onto his back, sat on his chest and planted both his feet on either of the Templar's forearms, pinning him down. He then unclipped the first aid kit from a compartment on his thigh and got to work.
Wash away blood, reveal extent of wounded area. Blink, exhale, analyze. Most severe first.
Fractured orbit. Eye appears intact. Remove skin and bone fragments. Bandage affected side of head.
Blows to the temple. Disorientation, possible headache. Administer weak painkillers.
Serious ruptures across the skin. Apply stitches, bandage.
Pre-empt bruising around cuts. Apply lilicae paste and ice pack.
His hands moved almost as fast as his thoughts, and when he was done Steady's face was nearly all covered. He sat on the Templar's chest for a while, arms on his own knees, as the crowds dissipated. They had apparently arrived at rush hour; most of the crowd had filtered through to the station proper, or else were rejected and/or dead. After a few minutes he got up and spoke at Steady.
"Recite the Scriptures in your head, then remove the bandaging."
The medic walked towards the entry gates. The guards seemed to just ignore him and he walked right on through. It seems Mr. Fae is quite the celebrity around here, he thought, a wry smile on his face.
> Quis custodiet ipsos custodes?
|
Hunter Junko
Sebiestor Field Sappers
Minmatar Republic
286
|
Posted - 2014.09.30 02:48:00 -
[27] - Quote
Hya'salia ignored the carnage from the other templars as she went down the first round of checkpoints without much trouble, the words of vadam still fresh on her ears
Thal Vadam wrote:"I like the plan. Junko, meet me outside the arena entrance. We'll finalize the details there."
'arena entrance, huh' Junko thought as she approached the young gallentean woman, checking through datapads piled up around her.
"ah.... welcome to Snowfall, ma'am. please show me your papers" the gallentean woman stopped in the beginning , making sure to check Hya'salia out in good detail. it slightly alarmed Hya'salia, but she complied and gave her the nessecary papers.
"hmm.... everything checks out, but i still need to you to pay... alittle extra" the Woman replied, her voice tending to sound slightly Sultry and enticing to those around her.
' is she a lesbian?' Hyasaila thought as she tried to decline, raising her hands up in good measure.
"ahhh... no i dont go-"
"aww cmon dont be that way, just a little taste?" the young woman insisted, standing up to reveal to face her at eye-level. a few of the other's whistled and cheered for some action
'well.... give them a show i guess' Hya'salia said, with this she rested her hand on the girls face, and then said something that will haunt her for a good, long time.
"Wel... i guess i can give you a taste" She said as she pulled the girl close to her over the desk, and close to her lips. the crowd behind her roared in approval.
but she stopped just centimeters from her., leaving the girl shocked, rooted in her place as she let go, hopped over the railing and blended into the crowd below the checkpoint.
brushing off her clothes in habitual fashion, she then shuddered, shaking her head and slapping her cheeks, to semi-snap her out of it.
"damn, almost lost it there.... ok, arena, where is the arena.....here, just ahead actually." Hya'salia said as she decided to walk through the crowds of people to get to the registration offices. when she arrived, she checked her watch. 10 minutes have already passed. she took a seat at a set of benches and waited for Thal to arrive. every minute or so she either adjusted her ponytail, or shifted around in an uncomfortable fashion, the wait making her more fidgety by the second |
Galm Fae
Eskola Ergonomics
328
|
Posted - 2014.09.30 05:21:00 -
[28] - Quote
Clockwork Jester wrote:
Noah found himself standing near Fae as the situation calmed down. He had originally planned to explore the station, gathering intel on key locations to hit. His plans had changed considerably in the last few minutes, he could not pass up the opportunity to meet the primary target face to face.
GÇ£IGÇÖm going to the meeting with you.GÇ¥ His voice was soft, but he spoke loudly enough to be heard clearly.
Galm nodded silently, watching Vyzion tend to David from afar. He stood there, his chest rising and falling in the cold bite of the condensed station air as spotlights continued to trace their way back and forth across the mass crowd.
"That was only the start," he finally warns flatly, "Zippang isn't like you and I. He's a mad dog that needs to be put down, and until we do he'll keep chasing this thing over Steadyhand. I know what I did looks bad, but I managed to buy us some time."
He looks towards CJ, a small flicker of concern flashing across his face for the first time since departing on this mission.
"When the time comes, we'll have to make some tough choices about the Templars. But those will all just be a means to our endgame. Believe me when I tell you, whatever price we have to pay will be returned in blood."
He motions for CJ to follow him, passing through the front gate as the guard from before gives a halfhearted salute.
"Grabarc should be waiting for you in a club downtown called the Diamondback."
Fae scoffed, taken back slightly.
"Diamondback? What's wrong with The Silo?"
"That rickety old place? Too damn dangerous, Grabarc had it shut down! I guess a few too many dancers kept getting too doped to keep their balance and falling out of cages."
Fae hung his head, mourning the death of his favorite bar. That was where he had first met the mercenaries of Beta Max, and where he decided to leave Shoashu in the first place... Though, to be fair, that choice may have been after considering just how dangerous a place like the Silo was in the first place. The former missile tube had long since been hollowed out and turned into a nightclub that relied solely on the structural integrity of a few rickety steel gantries built by the Caldari decades ago as dancers shook their assets over an abysmal black pit lit only by an occasional glow stick dropped into the void below. All things considered, it was probably better off condemned. He pressed forward, wondering just what else had changed since YC115.
There was no need to stop for a credit check or register for the tournament. When Grabarc wanted something, everyone on the station knew it. More importantly, they knew not to keep it from him. Any distractions hereon out between the mercenaries and the pirate were an unforgivable sin to Snowfall's own personal god. The two continued along the corridors for some distance, twisting and weaving their way through segments that seemed to resemble an armed bunker more than a cosmopolitan station. Occasionally a transport tunnel or two would intersect their path, or a series of small hole-in-the-wall shops offering a series of offensive smelling ethnic food, but it certain wasn't the Snowfall that Galm remembered. Not yet anyway.
Just when the two began to deliberate on if they were lost or not they rounded a corner to find a clearly marked tram system that (according to the poorly drawn sign hung above the ticket office) promised to take passengers into the heart of downtown Shoashu. After considering every possible alternative the pair decided that public transportation system would be their best bet at traversing their way through labyrinth of network tunnels. This theory was discredited of course when the tram finally came around, literally grinding to a haul beside the platform in a symphony of metal screeching. The metro car was just barely kept in operating condition, the windows all shattered and cracked and temporarily replaced with cheap plastic bags with spray paint tags covering what must have been every square foot of the machine's surface. When the doors slid open it revealed the inside to be a tattered, if not surprisingly clean, husk of a transport cart filled with shredded leather seating running along its length. The two paused for a bit, then took the first step on board in unison as they offered prayer to their favorite deity.
Eventually, the train hummed to life, the magnetic lifts finally pushing the fragile tube down it's merry path. The cart was incredibly dark, illuminated only by a few sparsely placed safety lights to outlined the alley in case if an emergency. Even though the train was on a magnetic rail, Fae could have sworn they hit a pothole at least once along their journey as it tossed him around in his seat with several violent shutters. After seemingly an eternity trapped in the hot tritanium cart, crammed between two clearly unwashed shipyard workers, the monorail shrieked to a halt inside a much larger subway station. Stepping out, the air felt fresh and the sounds grew more invigorating. The deep groaning of large steel hulls was replaced with the distant hum of electronic bells and happy cheers. The metro itself seemed in far better shape than it's counterpart at the customs office, with great care clearly placed in choosing the perfect spot to hang various holographic advertisement displays for all manners of entertainment institutions. Just beyond the platform several different sets of escalators led in different directions, all moving topside to the sprawl above.
The two rushed to the steps, running up the moving staircase rather than letting it carry them. When they emerged, both needed to take a moment to absorb their surrounds. Gone were the gray concrete walls and claustrophobic tunnels and their place stood massive hives of shopping centers, drug dens, and other exotic emporiums.
"Okay," Galm ventured, "Keep an eye out any signs pointing towards the Diamondback."
Kirjuun! Uakan!
Teknikiara!
Kanpai kameitsamuu!
Ra ra ra!
> --Confirmed Badguy Cera YC116--
|
Vyzion Eyri
The Southern Legion
Final Resolution.
2481
|
Posted - 2014.09.30 12:25:00 -
[29] - Quote
Vyzion considered his options walking along the narrow corridors. He never had true claustrophobia but he never enjoyed tight spaces. Which was why he firmly declined Rev's insistence to become a capsuleer with him; the capsules were suffocating, and the possibility of wetgraving... Vyzion grimaced.
To take his mind off things, he strolled into a shop that looked like something had torn a hole in the wall and dug a space with claws, then set up inside what was more or less a cave. The flickering light panels from the corridor were all that lit the place up. A wizened old lady sat behind a counter that also had an in-built hot plate. Something oily and brown was frying on it, and despite his fairly extensive culinary knowledge and augmented senses, Vyzion could not identify it.
"How much for a bit of that?" asked the medic curiously.
She did not reply, but instead took out a paper cone and shoveled the greasy mess into it with a spoon. Then she proffered it to Vyzion, still silent.
The medic stammered a thanks as he accepted the food. He rummaged around for some kredits and threw a wad of notes on the counter, surely three or four times what the gently steaming heap of brown stuff in his hands could be worth. He walked out, slightly perturbed; the old lady still had not said a word.
He looks down at the food as he walks. There was no discernable odour or smell at all. It looked like hunks of meat in the dim lighting of the shop, but up close they were small, sticky balls. He reached inside a-
A flash of red to his left made him flinch backwards. Something smashed into his stomach and smashed him against the wall, winding him. He wheezed as he got up, barely catching sight of a pair of thin ankles dash out of sight around a corner ahead.
"Hey, I paid good money for that!" He yelled as he ran after the thief, thinking: 8 years ago I was the one being chased for stealing...
He turned the corner. A dead-end. He looked down. There was the thief. A little girl, surely no older than nine, green eyes, a shock of red hair, spindly limbs, pale hair and a swollen stomach. She stood with eyes wide with fear, in stark contrast with her bulging cheeks and hand buried in the paper cone, grasping another handful of brown grub.
Vyzion relaxed and smiled. He drew breath to talk and was interrupted by a short, sharp, extremely powerful kick to his groin. He fell to his knees clasping his manhood yelling in pain, barely registering the small tap on the small of his back as the girl lightly used him to spring away.
He lay there for some time before getting up and brushing himself off, still holding his aching organ tenderly with one hand. Then he coughed a quiet chuckle. That girl had reminded him of himself all those years ago, and he couldn't muster the anger or even a desire to chase her down. He re-orientated himself and proceeded on.
> Quis custodiet ipsos custodes?
|
Clockwork Jester
Namtar Elite
Gallente Federation
59
|
Posted - 2014.09.30 22:07:00 -
[30] - Quote
Galm Fae wrote:"That was only the start," he finally warns flatly, "Zippang isn't like you and I. He's a mad dog that needs to be put down, and until we do he'll keep chasing this thing over Steadyhand. I know what I did looks bad, but I managed to buy us some time."
The truth was that Jester had little problem with how Fae had handled things, although he probably would have handled the situation more violently. Blood was supposed to be answered with blood, although technically forcing Steady to fight was somewhat similar.
GÇ£Lets just hope our associates can stay out of trouble for awhile.GÇ¥
Although he was starting to doubt it was even possible for the Templars to stay out of trouble on a station like Snowfall.
Galm Fae wrote:Just when the two began to deliberate on if they were lost or not they rounded a corner to find a clearly marked tram system that (according to the poorly drawn sign hung above the ticket office) promised to take passengers into the heart of downtown Shoashu. After considering every possible alternative the pair decided that public transportation system would be their best bet at traversing their way through labyrinth of network tunnels. This theory was discredited of course when the tram finally came around, literally grinding to a haul beside the platform in a symphony of metal screeching. The metro car was just barely kept in operating condition, the windows all shattered and cracked and temporarily replaced with cheap plastic bags with spray paint tags covering what must have been every square foot of the machine's surface. When the doors slid open it revealed the inside to be a tattered, if not surprisingly clean, husk of a transport cart filled with shredded leather seating running along its length. The two paused for a bit, then took the first step on board in unison as they offered prayer to their favorite deity.
Much to his surprise the the car lacked the distinct and pungent smell of urine Noah usually associated with station trams. Although the state of the car did little to inspire hope. He had abandoned religion a long time ago, but he still found himself offering a silent prayer to whatever deity was listening.
For the entirety of the ride the only comforting thought that went through his head as they were jostled around was that if he did die it would be the first time he could attribute his death to a station car. Life was about finding joy in the little things, and being immortal required him to find some joy in everything.
As the car came to a rather sudden stop Noah wasted no time in exiting the car, although it was an experience it was one he was not overly eager to participate in again.
The two rushed to the steps, running up the moving staircase rather than letting it carry them. When they emerged, both needed to take a moment to absorb their surrounds. Gone were the gray concrete walls and claustrophobic tunnels and their place stood massive hives of shopping centers, drug dens, and other exotic emporiums.
At the top of the stairs Jester took a moment to look around. Masses of people scurrying about, moving from one area to the next, the sight reminded him of insects scurrying around their hive. It had been quite some time since he had last set foot on such a station, and even though time had moved on the inner workings of the station remained mostly the same, it was only the names that ever changed.
GÇ£This place sure has grown,GÇ¥ Noah muttered to himself.
Galm Fae wrote:"Okay," Galm ventured, "Keep an eye out any signs pointing towards the Diamondback."
GÇ£Would it kill them to offer a half decent map to this place. Or at least make a sign out of something other than neon.GÇ¥ When they had gotten beyond the gates Noah had downloaded the station maps. It was only a basic map, a basic overview and labels on the various districts. The public map was a few years old, and as a result it was completely useless in a station that had so much turnover. Noah had to resort to physically searching for the club.
It was fairly obvious that he was searching for something, and that brought about a considerable amount of unwanted attention from any half decent merchant, drug dealer, and con man. Tourists usually represented easy targets. He was approached by merchants offering the best deals on everything from clothing to arms. The dealers offered the highest quality crash, drop, and exile at the cheapest prices. Con men offered up risk free investments, or the opportunity to double your isk. Noah was able to shoo most of them off with a wave of his hand and a dismissive grunt, some of the more persistent vendors required him to be a little bit more forceful. It was one of the many aspects of life on a pirate station that he abhorred.
When it became apparent that they were not going to be able to pressure him into a purchase they quickly dispersed, looking for easier customers.
Finally given a moment of reprieve Noah was able to refocus his efforts and energy on finding the club. Or as the case was, staring at neon signs written in napanii. It took him awhile to translate the words. Although he was capable of speaking the language he usually resorted to using only a handful of words or phrases. The soldier had never actually formally learned to read the language, a fact he did not openly advertise. Given his implant he probably could have just plugged in the information but he had actively avoided taking the simple way out. He had tried a number of times to learn but there was always something more important quickly approaching.
After a few more moments of searching and translating he managed to find what they were looking for.
GÇ£Hey Fae, I think its this way,GÇ¥ Noah nodded his head down one of the alleys, the sign above stated it was the stations red light district. |
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True Adamance
Praetoriani Classiarii Templares
Praetoria Imperialis Excubitoris
13397
|
Posted - 2014.10.01 12:43:00 -
[31] - Quote
GÇ£I pity you kidGÇ¥
The words reverberated through his mind for several seconds before he was able to return to the matter at hand, reaching out and handing over his personal NeoCom to CustomGÇÖs, who took the data pad with a flourish.
Kador ran a palm through his tousled hair, grimacing as Galm strode of with Noah on his trail, straight through the CustomGÇÖs portal and into the city proper beyond. How the pair got through so easily was a mystery to him but the guard seemed genuinely excited to have seen the half-breed, enough to let him know Galm was somewhat well known around these parts.
GÇ£You know him?GÇ¥ He shot across the counter, attempting to sound as surely as possible. GÇ£ Tiny guyGÇÖd have to grow another foot to even land a punch.GÇ¥
From behind the mesh an evil chuckle sounded once again.
GÇ£Know him? Not personally..... but that was quite a show....guy must have been round the circuit a time or two.GÇ¥ He replied, his effeminate voice full of scorn tinged with what he could only discern as mirth. GÇ£Papers are cleared and registration is complete. Welcome to Snowfall Mr Oussurian.GÇ¥
He nodded his thanks, taking the NeoCom back, and proceeded on through the gate.
As he passed through the portal he found himself instantly greeted by the familiar sounds and smells of urban city life, and though the sights themselves varied in a very distinct manner, he found himself enjoying the solidarity of the timeless feeling of concrete beneath his boots.
Compared to the loading bay the city itself was warm and vibrant, the air held a certain humidity that was not present , and seemed to possess its own weight and hundreds, possibly thousands of others breathed the same recycled air.
He glanced around looking for some sign of the others to no avail. Instead he wandered down the main thoroughfare for several hundred meters drinking in the sights and sounds, admiring with scale of the station and its interior city. Around him rose tall, blocky buildings, sections corroding and smeared with surrealist graffiti and tags of gangs or artists, other sections bore designs of well know individuals in caricature. Every surface was covered with boards bearing Caldanese text or Neon advertisements in Nanpali script denoting the nature of the buildings themselves.
As he walked he passed through a pillar of steam rising from one of the curbsides many grates. They smelt like urine, and were awash with a foul waste water, several small, empty glass canisters, and sodden lumps of paper trailing their gaudy colours that tinged the tepid flow in odd patterns.
Elated at the rush of warm air that ran up his body, and the sense of freedom he found himself exposed to Kador quickened his pace, leaping the curb in a single step and tacked onto a group of revelatory teens enjoying their evening.
No one questioned him, few besides the street peddlers hawking their greasy looking foods spared him the time of day, and he soon realised that to them he was just another well dressed fool looking to waste his money.
He stopped off at one of the stall, ducking under the low hanging veil and ordered in broken Nanpali the first thing on the menu. What he received moments later was a fried pocket of bread filled with some unidentifiable meat sauce and a small glass of what appeared to be thick, dark green liquor.
He glanced suspiciously at the stall owner raising an eyebrow.
The response was immediate. The man let out a loud gaffaw, slapping at his belly with his free hand, and let loose a stattaco burst of unintelligible words. When he saw the young Amarrian hesitate he gestured, first at the cup, making to down the glass in a single dose, then to take a bite of the meat.
Oddly enough Kador found himself following the manGÇÖs gestures, a genuine grin now forming across his features. The thick mixture tasted foul, the taste of alchol was overpowering, causing his face to loosen and lips to purse, eliciting another loud gaffaw from the stall owner.
The meat however was delicious and despite his watering eyes he swore it was the best thing heGÇÖd eaten in weeks. The sauce was rich, meat tough but flavoursome and juicy.
He intended to inquire further as to what it was but decided better, tossing the man another chit and wandering out from under the stall and back into the crowd. He finished the pocket quickly followed the flow of the crowd further on down into the labyrinth of alleys.
He passed several men out in uniform, all Matari, who ducked between the crowded groups offering the passers small cards bearing the inappropriately dressed, or even nude forms of women, each one bearing contact information, addresses, rates.
He noted with a sense of trepidation that his vision was blurring around the edges, and his movements had become more lax and less controlled. It felt right though, there lost in the roar of the crowd and the hustle of the street corner.
One dashed over to him holding out the stack of cards in a greasy looking hand. Kador grabbed a fist full of them and kept walking, quickly flicking through them. He pulled out one however, he liked the look of this one, by the name of Chastity, a disproportionately busty, blonde, Intaki too. This one he folded neatly through the centre, tucking it into his breast pocket and casting the others aside.
He thought Denak might have approved, but considering the manGÇÖs dour repose and grim facade perhaps it would have been the opposite.
Still the card have given him what heGÇÖd needed. An address, a small map, and more importantly a place near the Pits where he could enter watch the combatants before entering his fights.
"We were commanded to burn the system...We did. I mourn the loss of the innocents caught in our fires" -Kador Ouryon
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True Adamance
Praetoriani Classiarii Templares
Praetoria Imperialis Excubitoris
13397
|
Posted - 2014.10.01 12:47:00 -
[32] - Quote
HawkerGÇÖs.
Quickly he drew forth the card again; momentarily appreciating one of the sides more so than the other and several passersby whistled their own appreciation. The map was rudimentary, only denoting the key roads and tram ways that would be required to reach the Pits.
Kador ducked down one of the side alleys, pushing through the crowd, then past several shady looking individuals taking long breaths from those small glass inhalers.
He emerged out onto an equally gaudy street, with equally excited looking revellers, with the same Matari passing out the cards of the local whores. He grabbed some more, barely looking at these until he came to one of the tram stations.
There he pressed into one of the overloaded carts with two dozen other reeking bodies, half stinking of liquor, the other of sweat and ****. Fortunately he managed to secure a position in one of the corners where he busied himself perusing the smaller cards.
Suddenly a wave of new passengers piled on to the cart, pushing a stumbling, drunken Gallentean against him who despite being out of earshot of his friends continued to ramble on some nonsense about his exploits that evening.
GÇ£.....an so that ***** wasnGÇÖ..... like for it with Enja nGÇÖ me.....so I jusGÇÖ lef for the bar....kep drunk...drink....GÇÖnGÇ¥
He looked up, finally realising he was speaking to a complete stranger. His face was way too close, breaching all ideals of personal space, breath condensing on KadorGÇÖs cheek as he spoke.
GÇ£Oh.....hey buddy...hic..... hey.....Howzit goinGÇÖ hafin fun?GÇ¥ He slurred, continuing on his tirade without a breath. GÇ£ Course yGÇÖare this place is amazinGÇÖ...... got more action thGÇÖn Caille righ ere.GÇ¥
Kador nodded, it was all he could do as he gently pushed the drunk away from him, that awkward grin returning to his face, half amused, half uncomfortable.
The tram however continued apace, some of the passengers getting off at various stations, others piling in to continue the crush.
He knew heGÇÖd have to make his transfer soon, the card had indicated two lines, the Fall line, and then Main Red down through to the pits and the scummy clubs that surrounded it. He made the transfer quickly, happy to be rid of the clingy Gallentean. The trams came at regular intervals like clockwork, and he was able to proceed down into the Pits with little trouble.
The lower he got however the dimmer the light did as well, and fewer drunks rode the elevators. The atmosphere changed; there was a charged anticipation in the air that put him on edge as buildings became more densely packed, smaller arterial alleys running off in various directions from the main streets.
They were less crowded, a few groups walked here and there discussing loudly their favourites to win, while couples pressed together intimately as they peeled off down into the alleys following the promised of Vacancy signs, while other more desperate looking fools tested the odds on their NeoComGÇÖs looking for the evenings premier bets. Over all of this came waves or sound, a sonorous roaring that echoed down the claustrophobic alleys denoting a feverish bloodlust that was becoming more prevalent the close he got to the Pits themselves. This wall of noise cut through by the hall marks of charismatic announcers and endorsements in various languages.
He realised suddenly that he was excited. Excited to be free to do as he pleased, when he pleased. Here he found no expectations, no demands from his superiors, from his teachings, not even from Satja.
It was perhaps the first time he had spared the girl a though since heGÇÖd departed for Snowfall, choosing instead to focus on what he had to do and the role he was going to be playing. The trouble at this point was that the role was so easy to play, it was so easy to let go of those inhibitions in a place like Shoashu Saasanko.
"We were commanded to burn the system...We did. I mourn the loss of the innocents caught in our fires" -Kador Ouryon
|
Vyzion Eyri
The Southern Legion
Final Resolution.
2487
|
Posted - 2014.10.01 14:01:00 -
[33] - Quote
Vyzion noticed the tunnel system opening up ahead and quickened his pace, finding himself in a square-ish space, with him standing on a raised platform which fell off to a lower gravelled path lined with tracks, perpendicular to him. Both sides of the track continued into tunnels, darker and bigger than the one Vyzion had just exited. A train station, he guessed, and even as he thought it a tram cart came rattling down the tracks, headlights cutting swaths through the dimness. It shuddered to a stop as the driver notices Vyzion through the grimy window.
He looked at the state of the cart, and promptly shook his head at the driver, who shrugged and kept going. Vyzion quickly stretched his legs, leapt onto the tracks, sprinted until he caught up with the lumbering tram, and then settled in to a steady run in the narrow bit of ground between the tracks and the walls of the tunnel behind it.
The tunnel stretched on for some time, and the mercenary was breathing heavily by the time he saw the pinprick of light ahead, which slowly grew to a sizable hole, then grew larger by the second until...
Neon. So much neon that he could taste it. The tram continued on into the main city of the station, but Vyzion froze like a deer caught by headlights. He shut his eyelids hard, but it felt like the lights had burned their way into his eyes and he could still see their ghosts in the blackness.
The darkness of the tunnel probably was no help, he mused as he opened his eyes tentatively. Neon signs and glowing billboards lined tall concrete buildings, neon signs, neon walkway indicators, neon road markers. Much of the lightning though was covered in some quite tasteful graffiti, so the overall effect was patches of brightness, and muted glows.
It was... unique. The pilot had seen Caille's Crystal Boulevard and after that rarely did any other cityscape impress him, but this would have had to be a close third after the sunset over the walls of Dam-Torsad. As he walked into Snowfall proper, though, and observed people enjoying themselves freely, indulging in their own desires, imbibing substances through methods that even his Gallentean upbringing could not have prepared him for, the Imperial City of the Amarr Empire, as magnificent as it was from the outside, was probably more in need of the chaos they were about to bring upon Snowfall.
Vyzion shook himself from his reverie. He was deep into the city now, multi-coloured lights shining down on him from every direction. The station's city-dome above his head depicted an artificial night sky, but it may as well have been day down below for all he knew. The streets were painted in rainbows from all the neon, and even people had lights on them. Vyzion raised an eyebrow at a few women who were using glowing ribbons and loops to literally highlight their bodies. The medic particularly liked one who had made it appear as if some strands of her hair were made of light. Now you don't see this in Caille...
He resisted the temptation to research further -purely for scientific purposes he told himself- and pressed on. His eyes were adjusting rather quickly and soon the neon lights seemed to fade and it begun to get darker...
Vyzion turned. Then turned back to face forward. His eyes hadn't adjusted at all, there was just less lighting in the area he had walked to. He turned to a nearby wall and looked up. It was a residential building with balconies jutting out. Perfect. He jumped up, grabbing the first balcony by his fingertips. He pulled himself up, repeating the process for each level until he reached the rooftop.
From this vantage point he realised that only a small section of the whole city was as slathered in neon light. The rest of the place was a little more conservative. A neon district in a neon city.
Vyzion sighed. First a little orphan, then an amazingly unique, lit-up section of a sprawling city. How many more reasons could he discover to NOT want to blow up the place?
> Quis custodiet ipsos custodes?
|
Galm Fae
Eskola Ergonomics
330
|
Posted - 2014.10.02 02:10:00 -
[34] - Quote
Clockwork Jester wrote:
GÇ£Hey Fae, I think its this way,GÇ¥ Noah nodded his head down one of the alleys, the sign above stated it was the stations red light district.
Galm crooked his head down the ally, shuttering slightly at the thought. He takes a step backwards, his breath hitching for an instant before recovering.
"Right... Yeah... Red light district," he stammers, his voice unsteady, "Makes sense. Just... Try not to get distracted in there, alright?"
He shuffles forward before stopping again, talking to Jester over his shoulder.
"You're going to see some things in here you may not like. Just try to remember that the best thing we can do for these people is to shut this station down. And above all else? Don't let anyone see you sweat. Keep your head down, keep your nose clean, and don't let me handle the talking with Zipang."
That being said, Galm adjusted the bomb in his jacket and pressed further down the street. The lewd sexual deviance of the place began predictably enough. It crept to a start, opening first with the odd holoreel rental store or adult book athenaeum. Noah couldn't help but notice, much to his horror and amusement, that some of the novels being peddled bore a striking resemblance to the very same story Fae seemed to be reading earlier. The depravity seemed to grow at and exponential rate as they pushed on, eventually pressing past odd bands of Achurian or Deteis women who would wave playful as they passed by. The closer they drew the more soothing inflection their voice would take, promising to heal them of all ailments if only the soldiers had the time, money, and kindness to lay with them for the night.
Fae wished that was as far as it went. But no matter how many brothels they passed, no matter how many women they refused in search of the Diamondback, the alley continued to stretch on into oblivion. Dim, vermilion lighting proved just enough so the mercenaries couldn't make out hard features among the horde of tourists they shared the streets with while still outlining the delicate forms of prostitutes among the distressed grey buildings. Eventually the crowd thinned slightly as they pressed deeper into the more niche section of the neighborhood. Skintight shorts or flowing robs gave way to shined latex or well pressed satirical versions of Provist dress blues. More unique items were brandished openly for purchase, contraptions the likes of which only the most inventive Gallente or most sadistic Amarr could conceive. Fae finally spoke, his voice low and solemn.
"I was deeply hoping we would have located the place by now."
There was no embarrassment in his voice, but that unsettled tone remained. He wondered if Noah would understand why as they turned the next bend. He paused, deeply wishing he didn't have to go any further. Before them stretched the same alley, moving onward and onward in the pervasive and constant red light, though with significantly less tourists than earlier. When he spoke again, Noah could finally place his tone. Regret.
"You know how butchers always keep the best cuts in back of the shop?"
He stared at Jester, letting him derive the meaning on own before moving forward once again. It was silent here, as silent as a compact urban sprawl could be anyway. There was no chatter or pleading, only a focus silence as individuals moved from one shop window to the next, carefully assessing the merchandise that lay just out of view. On the far end sat an understated holographic sign above a single metal door, the trademark Gurista emblem flashing as a snake began coiling through every open hole of the skull. The Diamondback was right within reach.
"Just look at the floor here, trust me. No use looking around."
He felt like he was trying to convince himself more than CJ. As they inched closer to the door side by side, he couldn't stop himself from looking away any longer. He knew they would be right there, staring at him as he passed, and he owed them the courtesy of at least making eye contact.
Before Galm sat a wide, slightly tinted window built into the side of a building. The glass was clearly secure, holding a firm position despite obvious attempts to break in with brute force or long, deep gashes into the pane itself. He wondered if the tint was mirror coated, providing one way access on the other end, or if it was simply made slightly darker so visibility was limited to whoever happened to be standing just in front of it. He got his answer when she looked at him, her eyes welling up with tears. The girl behind the glass was young, no older that fourteen as far as Fae could tell. She sat there, naked in her own little contained habitat tracking Galm with her misty blue eyes. Her box certainly appeared comfortable, filled with all the plush amenities a young woman could hope for including an artist easel and a fully furnished bed. Behind the glass, softly, he could here a soothing melancholy tune play from unseen speakers as they lulled her into a passive trance. But there was still no mistaking it, the room was little more than a circus cage, storing the ringleader's main attraction until such a time that it could be let out for a brief display at an exorbitant fee.
She was still staring back at Fae, the little Sebiestor girl, tears washing her eyes out. That was the worst part really, that they weren't even real tears. There was no catharsis or sorrow in them, only a reprogrammed response to the stimuli of seeing another potential customer. She was unwillingly streaming tears of utter joy, her body primed through classical conditioning to know what the sight of another man entailed.
He didn't need to look around, but Fae knew there where others. Not all as young as this one, but there were enough for any type of company you decided to rent for the evening. The exact indoctrination process was still closely guarded, and the families incredibly well compensated for their 'donation.'
Kirjuun! Uakan!
Teknikiara!
Kanpai kameitsamuu!
Ra ra ra!
> --Confirmed Badguy Cera YC116--
|
Clockwork Jester
Namtar Elite
Gallente Federation
60
|
Posted - 2014.10.03 21:34:00 -
[35] - Quote
The further the ventured into the depths of the district the closer they came to the rotten heart of the station.
GÇ£Whatever happened to basing your operations out of a bar? I miss the old days.GÇ¥ he spoke mostly to himself, of a time that had only existed for a short time on Snowfall.
Places like this were one of the reasons he disliked dealing with the Guristas. They were much more open about their depravity than the more militaristic Angel Cartel. The Blood Raiders were something else entirely. The soldier was not naive enough to believe that similar things did not happen elsewhere, he had seen it for himself, they were just better about hiding it.
Galm Fae wrote:"Just look at the floor here, trust me. No use looking around."
Noah grunted a response, signifying that he understood, not that he would do it. He refused to look away, to avoid them, or deny their existence. To him looking down or away was disrespectful. It did not mean he agreed with what he was seeing, but he would not deny that it was happening. The only thing that mattered was surviving, for those here this was their only known means of survival. That was something Noah understood well, the lengths people would go through to survive, what they would give up.
Galm Fae wrote:Her box certainly appeared comfortable, filled with all the plush amenities a young woman could hope for including an artist easel and a fully furnished bed. Behind the glass, softly, he could here a soothing melancholy tune play from unseen speakers as they lulled her into a passive trance. But there was still no mistaking it, the room was little more than a circus cage, storing the ringleader's main attraction until such a time that it could be let out for a brief display at an exorbitant fee.
GÇ£At least its a pretty cage,GÇ¥ His voice was flat, but strong his voice held no disgust or anger at what they were seeing. GÇ£Others arenGÇÖt that lucky.GÇ¥ The way he figured it was if there was an individual willing to pay for a service then there was an industry. Considering his chosen profession he had no room to judge or belittle someone elses chosen work. Noah was responsible for committing acts that were probably worse than anything going on in the station. If they accomplished their mission they would be committing an unforgivably egregious act. If he was going to bear the responsibility for ending their lives he owed them the respect of recognizing their existence, and trying to remember their faces.
Noah placed a hand of FaeGÇÖs shoulder, GÇ£IGÇÖm going to put my bag in the coat check.GÇ¥ With that said he moved quickly to the coat check window.
He said nothing as he gave the woman his bag, she offered him a fake, forced smile and a ticket. He accepted the ticket and returned her fake smile with a soft, genuine one of his own, along with his thanks. Pocketing the ticket he returned to Galm.
GÇ£Lets go, weGÇÖve only got so much time.GÇ¥ |
Thal Vadam
Praetoriani Classiarii Templares
Praetoria Imperialis Excubitoris
36
|
Posted - 2014.10.03 23:28:00 -
[36] - Quote
Thal continued his walk towards the arena, the countless indaviduals pushing and shoving their way around the dark recesses of the stations streets. People would bat an eye sometimes at his Amarrian robes, but most were to preoccupied with their lives to fully notice him. This was good, being know wasn't something he longed for.
As he continued his walk along the edge of the street, he heard loud grunts and cries of pain from a alleyway close by. He quickly used the blackness of his robe to blend in with the shadows and learn he looked on with horror at what he saw. The young Gallente girl that had checked him into the station was being beaten by three large thugs. The thugs looked like two Caldari and a Brutor, and they were pushing the girl back and forth between each other, giving her a punch each time. The Brutor shouted,
" WHERE'S OUR MONEY YOU STUPID B***!"
The Brutor slapped her aside and she fell to the ground. She was coughing up blood and her eyes face was soaked in tears. She whimpered,
"I don't have it yet. Please just stop."
The Brutor and his Caldari accomplices broke out into laughter.
"When we grow tired of your pain and tears, you'll have peace. In death"
Thal rushed out of the shadows at the Brutor and slammed him into the wall. The two Caldari tried attacking him from behind, but Thal turned and used both his arms to punch them square in the face, knocking them out. Thal heard a great booming cry as the Brutor stood up. The towering figure drew a long knife with various tribal markings etched on to the blade. The Brutor rushed Thal and stabbed at him, but Thal grabbed the man's arms. They both struggled against each other's strength, and it seemed no man could gain an advantage. Until Thal changed his stance and let go of the man's arms. The power the Brutor was using to push the knife kept on going, and the beast stabbed himself in the chest. He fell limp to the ground, dead.
Thal was immediately taken by a much lighter force. The Gallente girl had swung him around and embraced him with a hug.
"Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!"
She grabbed Thal's head and kissed him right on the lips. Thal tired pushing her back, but she was attached to him like his combat dropsuit. She finally stopped kissing him and smiled at him, her arms wrapped around his neck.
"What can I do to repay you handsome?"
Thal gently pushed her off and reached into his cloak. He pulled out several ISK chips and placed them in her hands.
"Get on a ship, get off this station, get out."
She smirked at him, but suddenly understood the urgency in his voice. She took the chips,
"Ok hun, I'll be looking for you out there."
She winked at him and ran off into the street. Thal soon returned to his walk, the arena in sight. As he approached, he saw Junko waiting for him. He walked up to her discreetly and came up behind her. He bent down and whispered.
"Ok Junko, you ready?"
"The Enemy has no idea of your true power. Let us show them! Thal to his men during the siege of Huola
|
Hunter Junko
Sebiestor Field Sappers
Minmatar Republic
288
|
Posted - 2014.10.05 05:44:00 -
[37] - Quote
Thal Vadam wrote:
She winked at him and ran off into the street. Thal soon returned to his walk, the arena in sight. As he approached, he saw Junko waiting for him. He walked up to her discreetly and came up behind her. He bent down and whispered.
"Ok Junko, you ready?"
Hya'salia didnt respond, only looked to the right and nodded silently. slowly she stood up and with her hand behind her back, motioned to Thal to follow.
as the two walked, she spoke in a low voice, just enough for thal to hear among the shouts and voices of the people gathering for the tournament.
" try to be gentle Thal, i am a decent fighter but nowhere near skilled as you are." she said with a slight smile. weaving in between the line, the two came up towards the Registration booth. an impatient looking man was busy talking to someone else, a caldarian by the looks of it. Hya'salia cleared her throat and stepped up to the booth, where we was immediately shooed by the man, who was still talking
"here for the tournament" she said. the man stopped and eyed her from top to bottom, his eyes stopping just where her chest would be. seeing this, she instantly felt annoyed.
'please dont make me' she thought.
"ahh excuse me, i got a few nobodies who wish to interrupt.... sorry sweetcheeks, no more registrations unless you would like to ... say... pleas-" a hand extended towards the man who was halfway speaking and yanked him off his seat, slamming her elbow against his nose, breaking it with a sickening CRACK!, then she slammed the man's face against the booth table and lifted it up so that he was eye-level with Hya'salia.
"......Now.." Hya'salia growled. the usual demeanor that Hya'salia showed was replaced with a calm, but pure rage. the man stammered, then slightly shook his head, his hand shakily reaching for a datapad.
"n-na name?"
"Hya'salia Jun'kio" She replied in her native tongue, and let the man go, without looking at thal, she turned and began walking towards the preparation rooms, the man visibly shaken as he looked up at Thal. |
Vyzion Eyri
The Southern Legion
Final Resolution.
2495
|
Posted - 2014.10.06 12:47:00 -
[38] - Quote
Vyzion ran across the rooftops gracefully, leaping over the small gaps that formed alleyways between then and making his way to a part of the city he had spotted that didn't seem to have any apartment building or highrise complexes. The neon lights became fewer and fewer as he moved towards this open area; eventually it actually seemed to be night, and streetlamps were the only way for him to see down to the streets below. Neon signs and billboards barely penetrated the darkness, their muted glows painting the bland walls of adjacent buildings in fluorescent colour.
He reached the last tall building and looked down. He was standing on the edge of a huge circle formed by buildings of similar height to the one he stood on, and it appeared as if he was looking down into a shallow cone. The buildings got progressively smaller, ring by ring, as they approached a structure in the center of the circle. Vyzion could smell the blood. This was where the pits were, where mercenary gladiators fought for money, the favour of Zippang, women, fame... or just out of boredom. The appeal, the medic guessed, compared to traditional arena fights, was that it was possible (if the winner felt like it) to progress to the death. Vyzion had read pit fights between immortals, especially one where an unfortunate capsuleer found himself against a mercenary soldier. The crowd had bayed for blood, and the "finish him!" chant was the last thing that capsuleer heard before waking in a medical bay.
He jumped down to the lower level of buildings, rolling to break the fall. Turning around he realised there would be no way he could physically jump back up. It was down from here on out.
Leap, roll, stand. He landed in next smaller ring of shorter buildings. These appeared to be residential by the looks of the plants and balconies.
Another leap, but this time the gap between the buildings Vyzion was on and the next level down was a little wider; he cleared it with his fingertips, body slamming into the concrete wall and nearly rebounding him back off. He silently thanked the past few years of hacking NULL cannon interfaces; it really worked his fingers. He hung there for a moment, regaining his breath. Just as he was about to pull himself up, he heard voices.
"Leena, where are you going?" This voice was high, a child's.
"The clinic, of course. Men aren't going to look at me like this." Another voice belonging to a woman.
"But we can leave! We can get away with that money! We can... find somewhere..."
"... Ritae, darling, we both know there is no 'somewhere'. Everyone works for Zippang. Everyone. If we tried to buy a shuttle out of here it we would dock right back here, right in the arms of that God-forsaken bastard, and you don't want to know wh-"
"I DO know! I've seen them too!" The girl was haughty now.
Silence. Vyzion slowly pulled himself up, keeping as quiet as possible. A few meters away on the flat rooftop, a Gallentean women, beaten and bruised, was crouching and hugging the little skinny red-headed rascal that had stolen his food a while ago.
Leena spoke, her tone much softer now. "Yes, you have, darl'. Yes you have."
The girl, taken aback by the sudden shift in tone, turned away even though it was obvious she enjoyed the attention. That was when she caught sight of Vyzion peering up from over the side of the building.
"EEEK," she squealed. "It's a peeping holder!"
Leena let go of the girl and turned around. Her face twisted in disgust. Vyzion's mind went into overdrive. He tried to scramble up onto the building as the woman stormed over. He had half his body up and was throwing a leg over the side when a foot came crashing down on the top of his head, slamming his nose into the concrete (why was there so much concrete) roof and breaking it. The pressure was removed and Vyzion counted to two pulled himself forward and curled into a forward roll, bowling the woman over. He leapt up and wiped the blood streaming from his nose, then promptly cracked it back into place.
The standoff was strange. Both girls were staring bullets at the mercenary, but he himself could not make eye contact with both easily when one was half the height of the other.
"Another capsuleer," Leena spat. "Here to whisper a promise in my ear and run away too?"
Vyzion sighed. "The alternative being you sleep with them then they wake up naked without anything but a hotel room bill to call their own?"
She didn't respond, so Vyzion continued.
"Look, I don't really want to hurt you. But I could. But I don't want to. I need to get to a clinic, and by the looks of it you do to. That girl there," he points at Ritae, "she owes me. Take me to the clinic and I'll call it even."
The woman turned to the girl. "Is that true, you owe this man?"
Ritae turned redder than her hair. "Kinda..."
Leena sighs. "Fine."
Vyzion grins. Ah... honor among thieves. I could get used to this again.
> Quis custodiet ipsos custodes?
|
Galm Fae
Eskola Ergonomics
331
|
Posted - 2014.10.06 16:33:00 -
[39] - Quote
Clockwork Jester wrote:
He said nothing as he gave the woman his bag, she offered him a fake, forced smile and a ticket. He accepted the ticket and returned her fake smile with a soft, genuine one of his own, along with his thanks. Pocketing the ticket he returned to Galm.
GÇ£Lets go, weGÇÖve only got so much time.GÇ¥
Fae nodded, never once breaking eye contact with the girl. He put his hand to the glass, waiting to see if she'd do the same. She continued to eye him, remaining perfectly still so she could be carefully scrutinized by the mercenary. Fae could have so easily committed every one of her details to memory, from her slender little legs to the way her hair sat perfectly in place along her shoulders. He stopped himself just shy of the act, turn to face the club.
"Sierra hotel, soldier. I need a drink anyway."
He drove towards the door, stopping only for a moment to gather his senses before entering. He needed to be the Pixy everyone would remember. He needed to get angry. All things considered, it wouldn't be that hard. Rage came naturally to him. It was a tool he could easily control, letting it slowly burn under the surface to manifest in the form of dry wit and passive-aggression. All he needed to do was shut off his inhibitions and let the storm inside rage, overtaking his every will until the man who had organized this mission was quickly lost to someone else entirely. When he was ready, the threw the door open and charged inside.
The interior of the club was well furbished compared to the alley, if not just as dirty. Quality modern furniture sat beside overflowing bins of bottles, half empty bottles on mindflood, and cast aside clothing under piercing lights of every color. Exotic dancers stood on platforms just above clusters of seats, jiggling their assets and other unmentionables for the appeasement of... Apparently no one in particular. The club seemed oddly empty save for a few high rollers and scattered guards spread across an otherwise large hall that could easily seat several hundred Guristas.
Galm took another step forward before being stopped by a large, beefy Civire who seemed to materialize from the opposite side of the threshold, holding the mercenary back.
"Bar's closed tonight for a private meeting," he thundered, keeping the small half-breed at bay, "Grabarc's orders."
"Ah," Galm spat dryly, "Did the man bother to tell you who he's meeting with? Or are you just so expendable that he doesn't care if I have to turn you inside-out?"
"Excuse me, bro?"
"Bro. Always with the bro. I swear, these pirates play to their own stereotype. The women are whores, the men are thick, and their best and brightest hold their meetings in a secured ***** bar in the red light district. I'm almost embarrassed for you. It's like none of you have had an original thought in your life."
At this point the bouncer... At least Fae assumed he was a bouncer, frankly the man was chiseled enough that he could be a dancer if he wanted to... Had grown bright red in a state of pure anger, all too eager to throw a haymaker straight in Galm's direction. Even then, he just stood there far too intimidated to take the first move. Galm looked him in the eyes, his augmented irises shinning a dim gold in the rotating menagerie of colors that surrounded them. Fae leaned into his shoulder, pressing hard against him as he awaited some sort of response. When none came he pushed off the guard and continued marching forward into the bar, signaling Noah to follow as he closed the distance to the nearest enclave of gathered spectators.
There were five people crowded around one couch, all passing along a glass pipe in every which direction as they cackled and smirked at the show Galm had displayed. There were three dancers scantily clad in nothing but the lower half of black laced lingerie, leaving their best (though most likely synthetic) bits to dangle freely for the enjoyment of their customers. Each had their own small ethnic traits but all of those were made irrelevant by the unsettling uniformity in their choice of uniform, distracting the eye to far more... Pressing matters of their physiology. Nestled between two sat a rat faced scab of a man, much further along in his mortal life than could be said about either of the two mercenaries. He was the bar owner, Galm reason, or a slaver most likely. All Galm knew for certain was that he didn't like the little fink.
And there, opposite of the man sat Advir "Grabarc" Zippang. The man himself was a snake, an opportunist capable of smooth talking you into a deal so good you couldn't say no only to find in time your dreams will all burn away and leave you with nothing but the ashen husk and an insurmountable bill that permanently binds you to his service. But perhaps most importantly-- and the most dangerous thing about him for that matter-- The man could look good doing it. His face, rugged with the shadow of a charming rogue, sat perfectly framed by a well-combed head of dark brown hair. A sever cowlick only added to his demeanor, giving him a balanced look of utter apathy in the face of even the most trying subjects. On his neck a tattoo of a serpent coiled circles lower and lower down under his jacket before disappearing, leaving it to the imagination to determine just how the viper stretched. His piercing green eyes seemed to glow even under the flashing strobes of the club, seeming so warm and inviting than any guard you may have for the man was instantly washed away by the time he began to speaking. Caging his features was a noticeable, though forgivable amount of eye shadow. Whether it was a 'pirate thing' or if it was to mask the toll of his long nights of partying had been a matter of debate.
"Saisa!" he hissed, his voice honeyed and soothing, "Saisa, saisa, saisa! A while it has been Galm! Seriously though friend, how long has it been? Never mind that though, please! Have a seat, by all means!"
Kirjuun! Uakan!
Teknikiara!
Kanpai kameitsamuu!
Ra ra ra!
> --Confirmed Badguy Cera YC116--
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True Adamance
Praetoriani Classiarii Templares
Praetoria Imperialis Excubitoris
13405
|
Posted - 2014.10.07 01:06:00 -
[40] - Quote
As he continued down that road he could not help but notice how the feelings of bloodlust and anticipation became palpable, how the people let loose their inhibitions in the neon glow cast down from the gaudy signs above as they open out onto a wide quadrangle.
Humanity seethed here as reveller passed to and fro between the various clubs, bars, and dilapidated peep show that comprised the lower buildings, vices clasped tightly in hand as though someone might simply pull out the rug and cast it all down. Above those, seemingly built atop an older generation of constructs, rose stories of newer, better maintained buildings that continued up into what little he could see of the gloomy reaches of the simulated night sky. These were comprised of finer establishments, one in particular appealed to him, Bastion.
Here too the building seemed to close in around him, only slight cracks in the sky line indicated to him that this place was a station and not a true city in its own right, upper limits if the station barely discernible.
More pillars of steam rose here than anywhere he had seen in the station and the air was a warmer than anywhere else with a noticeable humidity as sweat mingled with sin. Splayed across the lower limits of buildings from half a hundred holographic panelGÇÖs scene of violence, sex, and corporate advertising blared whipping the crowds into a frenzy of activity as trams crossed over head from suspended rail systems bound for the other districts.
He found himself watching the fights on half a dozen panels as men, and some women he discovered, bloodied themselves against one another in the highlights from last seasonGÇÖs circuit. It became very apparent to him in that moment the fights were not simple brawls, there were few if any established rules, and moreover no one watching you back.
It seemed weapons were allowed to some degree, small knives or makeshift shanks seemed to be preferable and didnGÇÖt cause the crowd any issues he saw as one woman opened her opponentGÇÖs throat which showered into the GÇ£splash zoneGÇ¥ in a gory display.
He started suddenly when he recognised Galm in one of the short clips, several years old given the time stamp of the shoddy recording, depicting a highlight reel of finishing blows seemingly ordered with increasing cruelty and ferocity.
Across the plaza he spied a scrawl of nanpali letters, cast in a pink hue, each of the previous letters fusing into the next in an attempt to look modern, however the result was a damnable eyesore.
HawkerGÇÖs, it read.
Beyond this the club itself was in a state of pure disrepair as corrosion had set in the length of the building, and while efforts had clearly been undertaken to less the look of dilapidation it was impossible to hide.
Despite this the club had a steady flow of clientele as a line, primarily of men, funnel through the winding passage of a velvety cordon and through into the building shady foyer. It would be the perfect place for Kador to lay low, he would be one of many hundreds that would pour through that club and spend the evening quietly watching the girls with a drink in hand.
Of the vices he himself could comprehend, or had seen, God only knew what this place was hiding. However these two was seemed of less import since he had been known to drink at the Praetoriates celebratory dinnersGǪ..especially after the Junip Crusade.
The thought made him chuckle, who would have thought that by the end of such bitter fighting heGÇÖd have spent his evening belting out AthraGÇÖs greatest classics with Classiarii Yassavi and Ctarl.
He circled the plaza, passing under the eaves of a dozen buildings, watching with a wide eyed naivety as his curiosity got the better of him. One a single screen high above a woman, heavily tattooed with Caldari and Matari designs, began to sing, discordant notes of the band filling the plaza.
It was all surreal, lights, activity, and accessibility. You could have it all for a time at Snowfall.
He caught himself a moment later, passed by briskly, ignoring what heGÇÖd seen and dismissing it from his mind heading for the club at before him.
He had almost reached the line when a slender arm wrapped itself around his waist causing him to almost jump out of his skin in shock eliciting an amused giggle from his would be GÇ£assailantGÇ¥.
She was tall, it was the first thing he noticed, almost reaching above his shoulder on which she rested her head. She had dark hair that cascaded down over her shoulders to the small of her back, smooth looking skin, and the eyes. They were exotic eyes of the Jin-Mei, emerald green like his own, whose colour were brought out by the correct tones of eye shadow, all encompassed within elegant lashes.
She certainly was pretty, he admitted to himself. But she was what her employers wanted her to be. Painted and appealing.
"We were commanded to burn the system...We did. I mourn the loss of the innocents caught in our fires" -Kador Ouryon
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True Adamance
Praetoriani Classiarii Templares
Praetoria Imperialis Excubitoris
13420
|
Posted - 2014.10.07 01:27:00 -
[41] - Quote
She said something to him in a foreign language to fast for him to catch. However the inflection was clear.
Kador was horrified. He certainly had not been expecting this, not yet, not outside the controlled environment that was the strip club, and it was evident on his face, as he stuttered out a reply in broken Nanpali.
When he attempted to turn away she let loose another quick burst, placed a firm hand around his neck, pulled him close.
An incredibly awkward silence extended out between them, him just standing there pressed close against her trying to find some way to escape as his rising panic spilled over onto his face, and her sending him provocative looks in return.
He tried to be indifferent about the situation as the crowd surged around him but the longer he stood there the surer he was that something was wrong.
The perfume she wore was a heady blend of earthy scents that provoked the mind as well as something baser. It dominated everything else in a strangely enjoyable manner. It was as if his senses were dulled, as if his mind worked slower than usual and was losing its presence, and all the worries seemed to slip away along with his hesitance. She was smiling, it was all that mattered.
Somewhere nearby someone was shouting, it grew louder.
Then for a moment she looked confused, the smile was gone.
Are they talking to me or to her? He wondered still enjoying the womanGÇÖs scent. DoesnGÇÖt matterGǪ. IGǪ.
The next she was scowling as another, releasing her grip on his and shrugging him off as she mingled back with the crowd, disappearing as she latched onto another man.
The scent faded and everything seemed to come back into focus, the crowd, the smell of **** and sweat, and the dull roar that was the crowd around him as they pushed in close around him. Oddly enough no one had batted and eye at him during this exchange.
He breathed a deep sigh of relief.
GǣYou looked a little in over your head with that oneGǪ.Gǥ Came a voice from the crowd, causing Kador to glance around for its source, whoever it was they were nearby. GǣGǪ.Looked like you could use a hand Jaijii.Gǥ
GÇ£ThankyouGÇ¥ He replied, still looking around. His head hadnGÇÖt fully cleared yet and he was having trouble placing the voices owner. GÇ£Never been hit by that kind of ambush beforeGǪGÇ¥.
A sharp pat on the back drew him to his rescuer, another sigh escaping as he began to recognise the same leather jacket, and exposed midriff.
There was a peal of laughter, thenGǪ..
GÇ£Oh yup I was right, it was you.GÇ¥
"We were commanded to burn the system...We did. I mourn the loss of the innocents caught in our fires" -Kador Ouryon
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Clockwork Jester
Namtar Elite
Gallente Federation
60
|
Posted - 2014.10.08 02:26:00 -
[42] - Quote
Galm Fae wrote:"Sierra hotel, soldier. I need a drink anyway."
GÇ£You and me both.GÇ¥
He was going to need something to help him refocus his thoughts. Being on the station brought back old memories that were probably best left forgotten. Noah had to remind himself to remain focused on the mission. The job was all that mattered, and he needed to focus, gather as much information and data as possible.
While Galm angrily carried himself into the building Noah was calm and confident. He lacked the rage or anger that Fae possessed. Although Noah supposed if his nickname was based upon a miniscule ethereal fairy from a children's tale he might be generally angry too. As it was though he refrained from allowing anger to influence his actions or decisions. He had made plenty of decisions based upon anger, with varying results.
Walking into the bar he took a quick look at his surroundings, making note of as many people as he could see, as well as possible exits. He had learned that it usually paid off to be slightly paranoid at all times, or at the very least to never trust a soul.
GÇ£Expect the worse than reality isnGÇÖt so bad.GÇ¥
It was something he always told himself, no matter how bad things got they could always be worse. Although there were times that he had difficulty imagining things being worse but he always told himself they could be.
GÇ£DonGÇÖt clean up on our accountGÇ¥ Jester muttered to himself.
He had a hard time respecting anyone that left their business in such a state. Not that he was obsessed with things being clean. Far from it, he probably spent as much time sleeping in a bed as he did in some dark alley.
Galm Fae wrote:"Saisa!" he hissed, his voice honeyed and soothing, "Saisa, saisa, saisa! A while it has been Galm!
Seriously though friend, how long has it been? Never mind that though, please! Have a seat, by all means!"
As they approached the group Jester quickly evaluated each persons threat level. The snake was actually the one that bothered him the least. He was a known factor, or at least an expected one. The old man did not bother him that much, although Noah was wary of him. It was unusual to make it to an advanced age in a hole like Snowfall. To survive that long made someone dangerous. The ones that made him the most uncomfortable were the woman. Not because of their lack of clothing, but because he had been on the wrong end of a blaster or blade wielded by similar women.
Jester did not bother responding to the repeated greeting, it was not directed towards him, although the way he spoke sounded sour to JesterGÇÖs ears, and he was pretty sure it wasnGÇÖt because of the makeup the man had applied to his eyes. The soldier would remain standing unless he was specifically asked to take a seat. His decision was based upon both paranoia and respect. |
True Adamance
Praetoriani Classiarii Templares
Praetoria Imperialis Excubitoris
13427
|
Posted - 2014.10.09 01:07:00 -
[43] - Quote
GÇ£Maneater?GÇ¥ He repeated stupidly, not really catching on to what his saviour was saying.
GÇÿYeah the kind to latches onto an innocent, spoilt, rich looking girlGǪor boy like yourself, spends the entire time with him without discussing the fee, then has her two brotherGÇÖs take his cashGǪ.or break his legs.GÇ¥ Came her indifferent response.
He looked down at her for the first timeGǪ..actually looked, not just stared.
She was of middling height, thin, with a round heart shaped face. His first thought was that she looked like a boy. He clothes werenGÇÖt exactly effeminate, as she still wore her khaki cargo pants, heavy boots, and that leather jacket zipped up to the chin, hiding, what Kador considered relative to the stripper on his card was a relatively unimpressive bust.
She also wore a shabby cap, something similar to one, bearing a small depiction of a half naked fairy with several Caldanese letters he realised. Underneath the cap a was short cut of dark hair with blond highlights that covered the ears and tapered off at the nape of the neck in a series of jagged lengths, a popular style that heGÇÖd seen around the station. Her features were small, a thin string of freckles ran across the tops of her cheeks, her mouth looked as though it was permanently set in a crooked but amused smirk, and her delicate eyes glared up at him a cold blue hue.
GÇ£ThanksGÇ¥ He replied. GÇ£I appreciate that. Whole place is a little overwhelming.GÇ¥
GÇ£No worries Jaijii, I donGÇÖt like her anyway. She cheats with that perfume yGÇÖknow, get a whiff of it and you just canGÇÖt say no.GÇ¥ Her smirk slipped a bit as she glanced around as if looking for someone. Her stance was sold, defiant as the crowd pressed in, hand in the jackets pockets, feet splayed confidently, chest forwards without the slightest indication of a hunch. She couldnGÇÖt have been more than three years his junior.
GÇ£Waiting on someone?GÇ¥ He offered politely.
GÇ£Yeah, friendsGǪ.. said theyGÇÖd stop off at one of the Drop Dens and meet me here to check out the pits. We all ordered tickets months ago. No splash zone thoughGǪ..GÇ¥ She sounded genuinely disappointed. GÇ£You were heading in right. What was it you said at CustomGÇÖs? You donGÇÖt see much action in the Empire?GÇ¥
She gestured to HawkerGÇÖs and Kador flushed a bright red.
GÇ£Damn we have a regular Choirboy right hereGǪ..what was all that attitude for AriiGÇÖs sake or something? Buy us a drink and weGÇÖll stop teasingGǪ.maybeGÇ¥
Kador felt his brow furrow. This was a whole other can of something. As grateful as he was to have been saved fromGǪ. The Maneater, as this girl called her, heGÇÖd preferred to find his own booth, bottle, and the woman on the card.
GÇ£IGÇÖd love to, really would, but I just registered, was going to the pit to check it out myself before my matches.GÇ¥ He said in half truths. GÇ£HawkerGÇÖs was justGǪ.there I guess.GÇ¥
She flinched as he mentioned that heGÇÖd registered. Taking a visible step back, collapsing back in on herself, the smirk replaced, lips now a pale, drawn line, eyes looking for an escape.
GÇ£NoGǪuhGǪ. YouGÇÖre joking rightGǪ. I GǪ.dammitGǪhad to pick the sociopathGǪGÇ¥
Now Kador frowned. She seemed genuinely scared of him. Was it because he was a Pit fighter? She just continued to back away from him into the crowd, bumping into a pair of reveller, causing one of the men to drop his inhaler which was promptly trampled under the crush off boots.
GÇ£*****!GÇ¥ His voice was shrill as he rounded on her, grasping at the shoulder of her jacket with spamming hands. GÇ£I fuckinGÇÖ dropped that stuff cause of youGǪ. yo-GÇ£
Before Kador could act she completely reversed the situation, turning on him, shoving him off firmly into the rest of his friends, launching a tirade of profanities at them that even the Templar in her presence could appreciate.
Time for me to leave then. He was about to leave when one of the revellers tugged at the hem of his jacket, eye wide with shock.
GǣLookGǪj-just stop her okay. Before she hits him or something.Gǥ
GÇ£Fine.GÇ¥ He shrugged the man off. A circle had formed where the young woman was verbally tearing into the man, crowds jeering and yelling for a fight, others commenting on what the woman should be doing instead. He broke the circle in two strides, pushing between a couple, and approached the pair.
GǣGǪ.. worthless sack of ****. I- whoa wait stopGǣ
He cut her short, slipping in behind her, locking his arms under her own lifting her off of the ground with ease. She struggled ineffectually, kicking at him, trying to loose herself from his grip, eventually giving up and falling still.
GÇ£You said I was a sociopath huh little one.GÇ¥ He chuckled still holding her back ignoring her protestations. The crowd dispersed in a wave of disappointed grunts and moans, and the group of revellers passed by mouthing their thanks, disappearing quickly into the masses.
GÇ£Take a walk, you wanted to see the pits right?GÇ¥
"We were commanded to burn the system...We did. I mourn the loss of the innocents caught in our fires" -Kador Ouryon
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True Adamance
Praetoriani Classiarii Templares
Praetoria Imperialis Excubitoris
13427
|
Posted - 2014.10.09 01:10:00 -
[44] - Quote
She said nothing as he released her, but gestured for him to follow through the crowds, pointing up at a massive prefab structure that look distinctly like the loading bays heGÇÖd seen on arrival.
He wasnGÇÖt disappointed. That was all they were, a hollowed out loading bay lit up by heavy spotlights with rows of seating running right up to and surrounding on all sides a large raised platform which he assumed was what the Pit derived it name from.
It was comprised of solid concrete, cracked and stained with dark splotches, separated from the stands by heavy chain links, some bearing cruel looking spikes some an inch long, as if designed to torment the combatants.
Beside him the girlGÇÖs anger melted away and it was gone by the time they got to the arena, replaced instead with excitement as she hurried down to inspect one of the empty rings. There was a genuine excitement written all over her face, a grin that could not be dampened. He followed her at his own pace, as she flitted over from the arena to the splash zone, taking a seat and staring up into the heavy flood lights, hand sheltering her eyes.
Kador took a seat next to her, admiring the view from the GÇ£splash zoneGÇ¥ contemplating grimly that it could well be his blood that was being paid for by those twisted enough to enjoy such seating arrangements. He glanced down, slowly reaching down, returning with what he identified as a molar, partially cracked, clenched in his hand.
His savoir saw what heGÇÖd found and flew into a whirlwind of excitement letting loose and appreciative whistle.
GÇ£Whose is that?!GÇ¥ She yelled at one of the arena maintenance crewmen, squealing with delight when it turned out to belong to a well know fighter. GÇ£IGÇÖm so jealous.GÇ¥
The Amarrian handed it over wordlessly. The trophy was something he was glad to be rid of, and it seemed to make the girl happyGǪin her own twisted way, and broke the ice between them.
GÇ£So I guess IGÇÖm all right after allGÇ¥
GÇ£Guess so.GÇ¥ She replied indifferently, inspecting the molar, polishing it against her jacket before popping it into the breast pocket. GÇ£How bad can a Choirboy be?GÇ¥
He sighed. It was difficult talking to her when she was like this.
GǣRightGǪ..well I-Gǣ He started before he was cut off.
GÇ£Had you look yet?GÇ¥ She asked casually, still not looking at him. GÇ£I need a drink. I gotta buy ya one for this yGÇÖknow.
"We were commanded to burn the system...We did. I mourn the loss of the innocents caught in our fires" -Kador Ouryon
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Galm Fae
Eskola Ergonomics
331
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Posted - 2014.10.09 07:06:00 -
[45] - Quote
Galm took a deep breath, letting the situation truly sink in for a moment as Grabarc motioned vigorously for him to take a seat. Noah continued to stand respectfully, knowing when it was his place to be acknowledged. Galm had a deep respect for the man, and was glad to have him at his side. The exact circumstances of their first encounter were uneasy to say the least. The man had actually come to Galm with a contract for a deep space salvage operation in wormhole space. What had began as a simple recovery mission quickly degraded into a nightmarish hellscape that no one was truly willing to discuss afterwards. But Jester always remained composed, a natural leader in the face of insurmountable challenges as he would quickly acertain a situation and seek out effective solutions. To say the two were cut from the same cloth would seem inaccurate. Frankly he was better than Fae, if not slightly less ambitious.
Overall, not bad for a kakku.
He smirked, dragging himself forward into a seat opposite of Zippang and his cohorts. Across from him Zippang shook eagerly, as if waiting for Galm to make the first move.
"You know," he begins after some time with a light chuckle, "When I first heard you were back in Snowfall I must say I was so damn surprised! I honestly didn't think you would have the balls to rear your head once you left. I mean, I gave you everything man! I took care of you!"
Galm grunted, leaning back in the oddly shaped yet surprising comfortable chair he found himself in.
"I took care of myself, kirjuun. Everything I had I earned in the pits. I'm thankful for the opportunity you presented me with your organization, but my fealty ended there. I was always free to leave."
Grabarc slammed down on the table, snapping his head between the girls and his aging associate.
"You see everyone! That's what I was talking about! All the stories about this ******* guy, all true! He takes no **** from nobody, not even me! I mean... After all the drugs, the money, the girls--"
"There were never any girls."
The snake seemed completely taken back, throwing himself backwards in a series of unsettling hoots and hollers as the two dancers whispered smoothly into both his ears. He started to nod faster and faster, whatever drug he was only clearly take its effect.
"Nawwww Pixy. There was one girl, remember? I thought you'd remember. Don't you remember this bar? I took you shopping out here, and I took you to this bar!"
Galm scanned his eyes across the trashed cabaret, his eyebrows hanging low as he exhales cynically. The bar was like every other piece of crap pub scattered across the station. The Silo had atmosphere, personality, and ambiance. This place was just sad. It stank of alcohol and broken dreams, a mixture all too common in Fae's life. The only difference was distinct lack of drunkards and the apparent overabundance of guards. Things began to make sense quickly in Fae's head. Using a back-alley bar tucked away in a secluded location, the perfect lack of witnesses, the occasional flash of gunmetal that would flicker of the belt of a passing bouncer.
"I don't know man, there were a lot of bars. I was ****** up then."
Grabarc kept bouncing up and down in glee, expecting that very answer. Positively candid, he dug into his pocket and pulled out a familiar vial. Galm's grip on his chair tightened immediately at the sight of it, causing him to fidget uncomfortably in place. He sets the small tube of mindflood on the table between them, beaming with anticipation.
"I read-- Well... Someone I knew once tried telling me that our brains can only remember certain things when we were in the state when we first learned them. It's got some psychology name, ancestors be damned if I know what it is! But I'm pretty sure it's the truth. I mean, I'm high all the time and I never forget a thing! I figure you take a hit and I can have a nice, rational talk with the man I used to do business with."
"Look Advir, I really appreciate it b--"
"I wasn't asking Pixy."
He eyed the vial skeptically, leaning forward and taking a hold of it. It looked so simple in the little bottle, masking the evil that hid inside. Taking mindflood was always a gamble of course, providing a high like no other with no concrete guarantee that you'd ever come back down. Sometimes it made Galm feel like a god, other times it left him drooling in the street for hours on end. As an immortal it was of little consequence, never actually doing any permanent damage aside from the reoccurring nightmares brought on by a few bad trips. Even then, he wondered what Grabarc's endgame was. Was he trying to make Fae passive? Maybe keep him so doped up he never wanted to leave again? That was, of course assuming it was mindflood at all and not cut with some exotic poison or truth serum. Eventually he grabbed the tube of liquid and unscrewed the top, carefully lifting it to his nose and letting a small dose waft in. It was painful and disorienting, but damn did it feel good when it hit his brain. Everything seemed brighter, every movement felt better, and everyone seemed so very beautiful. He let the small amount settle, closing his eyes as it took hold.
Grabarc jumped on the opportunity, slapping one of the women hard on the thigh to signal it was time for her to move. She shot forward over the table and into Galm's lap, taking hold of his arm as he drew an knife and pressed it firmly against her though. With a woman's touch she pushed his hand further back, forcing him to take a larger and large dose before the fluid spilled out of the tube outright and onto the mercenary's face. At first he thrashed about, doubling over in pain from the rush. He didn't swear or curse, instead making a series of animalistic groans and shouts as the woman held him steady. Despite attack, she began to carefully rock him soothingly as he rode out the storm and let the knife fall to the ground beside him.
Kirjuun! Uakan!
Teknikiara!
Kanpai kameitsamuu!
Ra ra ra!
> --Confirmed Badguy Cera YC116--
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Clockwork Jester
Namtar Elite
Gallente Federation
62
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Posted - 2014.10.09 15:29:00 -
[46] - Quote
Jester had to give it to the man, he was certainly quite the character, he played his chosen role quite well. The soldier realized that what bothered him the most about the man was not his outward appearance or actions, but what they hid. He was a manipulator, and a deceiver, capable of pushing, and pulling, and twisting people and situations to his advantage. Noah had met a number of men who were similar, although most of them lacked his garish flare. It was impressive and disturbing that he managed to retain control of a place like Snowfall. Noah could only assume he had retained that control through a mixture of fear, respect, and manipulation of the masses. It was no simple task to control the mostly unchecked mass of humanity that thrived on the station. It was not something an ordinary man would have been capable of.
Knowing that Jester was aware the effects of removing him would have. Even if they didnGÇÖt blow the station to the other side of the cluster it would most likely tear itself to pieces in short order. The various factions would all be struggling to gain control, and given how Grabrac had most likely controlled them left no one with a discernable advantage. Even if the station did not rip apart it would most likely never attain its current glory, (if you could call a decrepit seething pit of a place such) it would only be a shell of its former self. The station would fall into chaos, which Noah found to be funny considering the dual meaning of the word in Napanii.
While Grabrac and Galm were speaking Noah remained standing, his arms hanging loosely at his sides, with his weight resting mostly on his slightly bent right leg. There were more guards than he had seen on his initial cursory exam of the bar, not an encouraging sign.
Galm Fae wrote:"Look Advir, I really appreciate it b--"
"I wasn't asking Pixy."
GÇ£So much for a pleasant and civil conversationGÇ¥ Noah thought to himself
Not that Noah was really expecting a calm or tension free conversation to take place. Giving who they were dealing with and FaeGÇÖs apparent relationship with the man he expected the worse. And while the conversation had not yet degraded to physical negotiations they were heading down a bothersome path, which Noah had no intention of interfering in. For the time being he would allow things to play out.
Although he had no intention of interfering the sudden movements of one of the women caused NoahGÇÖs left hand to twitch reflexively. It was a sudden flexing of his hand and fingers, he managed to catch himself before he drew a weapon. Technically Galm was an immortal, so even if he was attacked it meant little to his survival. Unfortunately though Noah knew from experience that poison and ODGÇÖing were both largely unpleasant ways to go, but at the moment that was GalmGÇÖs choice and Noah had decided that he had no right to intervene.
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Thal Vadam
Praetoriani Classiarii Templares
Praetoria Imperialis Excubitoris
37
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Posted - 2014.10.09 21:11:00 -
[47] - Quote
"Thel Vandamee"
said Thal to the pit administrator. The man was still rubbing his broken nose he received from Junko, and he used his other hand to gesture to the entrance to the pit fighter pins. The crowd got steadily smaller as Thal got to the pins. He had lost track of Junko, but assumed she could handle herself. He walked up to a guard at the entrance to the pin.
"I'm here for the fights, I'm a contestant."
The guard glared at Thal and gestured to the door. Thal entered and the first thing he noticed was the stench of death. They must have been pilling the bodies of the dead fighters somewhere down there. The room was like a long hallway, with small barred windows that Thal assumed looked out onto the arena floor. The blood dripping down from them was quite the confirmation of that theory.
There were many different fighters from all areas of the cluster gathered around, preparing themselves for battle. He noticed a large number of Minmatar, mainly Brutor, were competing in the pits, fewer Gallente and Caldari, and no Amarr. This fact didn't surprise him, Amarr weren't known for their enjoyment of arena deathmatches. As Thal watched the fighters prepare themselves, a shrill voice came from behind him.
"Mr. Vandamee?"
Thal spun around to see a very young Caldari woman. She looked like an arena fighter herself, with all the cuts and bruises, and he would have thought she was, if it weren't for her "staff" badge
"Yes, that is me."
"Your up next cutie"
Thal frowned. He had no idea why the females of this station kept refereeing to him as being attractive.
"So soon? I just walked in"
"There was a quick opening, some fool chickened out and ran. And so you get his spot"
"Very well, where do I go?"
The woman pointed to a door at the end of the hall. Thal sighed, and walked over to the door. It opened to reveal a lift that led up to the arena floor, a dead body was laying in the lift's corner. Thal shuddered and walked in. The door closed behind him and the door above him opened. Light flooded in and Thal was momentarily blinded. He could hear a thunderous cry that kept gjetting louder and louder. As Thal opened his eyes, the lift had reached the top. He was standing on the far north side of the pits, the sound he heard was coming from the crowd. They cheered and screamed for blood and death. A voice from an intercom system boomed over the crowds.
"LADIES AND GENTELMAN, WELCOME TO THE INFAMOUS PITS. HERE, YOU WILL SEE MORE BLOOD, GORE, AND VIOLENCE THEN YOU WILL EVER HOPE TO SEE FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIFE. OUR FIRST MATCH IS BETWEEN OUR LATEST ENTRY, THEL VANDAMEE. OUR ONLY AMARRIAN FIGHTER SO FAR, BUT WILL HE LAST AGAINST HIS FOE?OUR CHAMPION FROM LAST YEAR, YOU KNOW HIM, YOU LOVE HIM, LOK DORMA!"
The crowd went into a mad frenzy at the sound of the name Lok Dorma. It was a shock to Thal he was going up against the champion so soon into the fights. As the door of his opponent opened up, Thal's mouth dropped open slightly. It was the Brutor he knocked out earlier, there was still blood stains on his clothing and dripping from his mouth.
"YOU! I'M GOING TO MAKE YOU PAY FOR WHAT YOU DID TO ME!"
Thal wales out into the middle of the arena and assumed a low combat stance.
"I'd love to see you try ugly."
Thal through off his cloak and robe and motioned for the Brutor to attack. The beast let out a loud roar and charged at Thal, pure madness in his eyes. Lok jumped into the air and tried slamming himself into Thal, but Thal gave a quick side step and evaded that attack. He gave Lok a moment to recover
"You're the champion? You really need some standards around here." Said Thal in a jocular tone.
Lok wasn't having any of it, and started throwing punch after punch at Thal. Thal effortlessly evaded or blocked each attack, Lok's impressive muscle mass would be dangerous, if it didn't slow him down so much. Thal leaped into the air and kicked his foe in the face. As Thal landed on the ground, Lok came up behind him and grabbed Thal in a lock around his neck. Thal struggled to breath but he started laughing
"WHAT'S SO FUNNY BASTARD? I AM ABOUT TO KILL YOU."
Thal slammed his elbow into Lok's lower body multiple times
"Kidney punch, kidney punch, kidney punch, and pause....kidney punch!"
Lok fell to the ground, he could hardly breath he was in so much pain. Thal walked up to Lok, and grabbed him by the neck.
"Nothing personal my friend, we're clones after all so you'll be fine."
Lok coughed
"Tell me who you are, so I can find you and kill you."
Thal said in a quiet voice
"My name is Thal Vadam, and I look forward to our next battle"
Thal added a bit more pressure with his hand, and broke Lok's neck. The crowd stared in awe for a brief moment and then cheered. The announcers voice returned.
"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN IT IS OVER! THE CHAMPION HAS FALLEN! GIVE IT IP FOR THEL VANDAMEE. BUT CAN THEL GET TO THE FINISH? STICK AROUND AND FIND OUT. GET BACK TO THE PENS THEL, WE'LL SEE YOU SOON!"
Thal returned to the lift and it carried him back down. He walked to a area with some form of beds and fell down. He needed to rest if he was going to keep going.
"The Enemy has no idea of your true power. Let us show them! Thal to his men during the siege of Huola
|
Galm Fae
Eskola Ergonomics
335
|
Posted - 2014.10.10 06:50:00 -
[48] - Quote
The pain was excruciating, like he had just snorted a palm full of broken glass. It cut deep into his brain, sending shock-waves through his system as neurons fired one after another in an electrical surge. Death, for a brief moment, seemed like a much more preferable alternative than to let the drug rocket through his mind. Eventually it all subsided, and the world went dark. Nanites rushed to repair the damage, but it seemed no use. Galm's lifeless body hung there, still convulsing in the arms of the woman on top of him.
Then sometime else awoke inside of him. A single spark in the back of his head grew into a fireball, jump starting his body as the fire inside took control. His head rose, his eyelids rolling back until a set of piercing eyes began to bore right into hers. He raised his hand, placing it on her cheek. He let it hand there for a moment as she rolled into it, letting him feel her. He grinned, happy to feel so very alive. The fire continued to burn and burn inside him as a series of throaty laughs began to leak out of him. The air seemed cool in his lungs, but unbearably warm against his skin. Every flashing strobe had some implicit meaning that couldn't be put into words. Even if he could, he began to doubt that anyone he spoke to would be able to truly understand just how remarkable the world had become. It made him feel more than human, like he was above the restrictions of our universe. At long last, he was free.
He slid his hand behind the woman's head, using his other to trace every little scar on her form. When he felt he had observed every interesting part of her, he quickly found it unbearable to be in her presence any longer. He grabbed hold of her thick hair, casting her aside with a powerful tug. She flew off the chair in a painful shriek, falling backwards as a knot of hair ripped free of her scalp to dangle in Fae's palm. Grabarc began to applaud as the other woman rushed to pull her to her feet, limping away from the soldiers.
"See! Doesn't that feel so much better?" he barked madly.
"I feel... Like I'm on fire," Galm forced out through a series of deep growls, "I like it."
Now Galm was vibrating just as fast as Grabarc, nodding uncontrollably at the man with his eyes fully dilated. He pauses for a moment, sniffing the delicate perfume on the knot of hair in his fist.
"Now that's the Pixy I know! Do you remember yet? I took you here after you won your first fight! You put on the best show I had seen out of anyone since YC110, and I let you have pick of the whole house! You could have had any girl you wanted!"
It was a memory he knew well, but he tried so hard to forget. He did all he could to force it down, even though at one point he had seen that as the happiest day of his life. It was so simple then, viewing everything through a bottle. Nothing made sense, but it did't have to as long as all the cards fell into place nice and neat. He wished he had known before. He wish he could have done something then.
"Yeah... I remember."
The hair in his hand was so soft, so smooth.
"Damn right man!" Zippang bleated, "But you told me none of these girls were your type! Then you saw her! A real 'girlfriend' sort drinking alone back here. I gotta admit, I was saving that little flower for a high roller but you seemed so insistent on meeting her! And boy did you two hit it off! Tell me, was the sex good? Because the two of you were practically joined to the hip after that! It all worked out so well too, you kept fighting and I promise her you'd be her only client. Storybook ending really. Then you left of course... Needed to find a lot of other men for that one, just to keep her marketable. Needed to get her broken back in, right, seeing how you'd eh... Well, worn her in a bit. Had it in her head she was worth anything more than that bar and some luck bastard's happy ending. **** like that's hard to train out of a girl."
It was all so easy for him to say, like it was all just business. Gods and spirits, if he had known... If she had at least told him from the start! It didn't need to end like that, but her damn pride kept him from ever catching on. He spent long nights awake, wondering why she never told him. It finally dawned on him in his intoxicate state that they had something so remarkably pure that she refused to let the reality of New Eden taint it. Niina was always oddly romantic like that. A hush fell over the room as Galm realized he was breathing remarkably heavy, his pants echoing off the steel walls against the dull bass of the club.
"Pixy... I gave you so much with that girl, and then you threw it all away when you left. And then you come back, and the first thing your people do is trash the place?"
"The Templar was meant to be a gift," Galm began to interject, "A first generation Templar was suppose to be my way of saying sorry. He'd be a hell of a crowd pleaser, and a faithful slave. I was mistaken."
"Oh no no my boy! It was a fantastic idea! But as the record stands you've drawn blood and that needs to be repaid. I ought to kill you and the Templar for what you did... But that all seems to pointless! What does bloodshed do for immortals? No no, I forgive. For example!--"
He places his arm on the shoulder of his aging guess, who was now painfully aware of the fact that he had no business in this meeting.
"Just look at Mister Gansu here! Gansu has been in charge of the Diamond back for... How long has it been now?"
He opens his mouth to speak but Grabarc's finger presses his withered lips shut.
"Shhhhhh, no need to tell me. Longer than I've been in charge here, I can tell you that! Recently, I've noticed a bit of a decline in the quality of this establishment! I suppose the man figured that now that the Silo is no longer operational lower his standards and people will be force to pay."
Kirjuun! Uakan!
Teknikiara!
Kanpai kameitsamuu!
Ra ra ra!
> --Confirmed Badguy Cera YC116--
|
Galm Fae
Eskola Ergonomics
335
|
Posted - 2014.10.10 07:23:00 -
[49] - Quote
Mister Gansu was looking incredibly worried now, eyeing the bouncers as they paced back and fourth around the room like sharks at the sent of blood on the waves. He tried stand up and leave, but Grabarc was quick to pull him back into his seat, laughing hysterically has he patted the man playfully on the chest. He looked pleading at Zippang, and then at Fae. When he made eye contact with Pixy, his entire world seemed to come crashing around him. He tried to speak, but all he could manage was a series of guttural sobs has he groveled in Grabarc's arms. He tried to shake free from the pirate with little success, eventually turning towards CJ. It was the first time either had so much as acknowledge the Gallente, oddly fitting now that he was the only man in the room that could save is hide. His eyes, wide and watery, were filled with a infinite helplessness that should never be seen on the face of such an elderly and outwardly dignified man.
It mattered little. He was just another rat, trying to flee a sinking ship.
Galm's mind was still heavily dampened, relying on Grabarc to truly piece the rest of the scene together.
"Now Mister Gansu here has, for lack of a better term, shafted me. I have big plans for this place, none of them involve a club in such a state of disarray! I mean... Have you taken a look around? It's a mess! But you know what? I'm a forgiving guy. Just like I'm going to forgive you Pixy, I am going to forgive him. I'm not going to kill you, and I am not going to gut this old baka. But you see, reperations still need to be paid in full! Blood for blood, and cash for cash. My solution is threefold!"
He used his free hand to make a wide, sweeping motion across the club.
"This flake's little old life is worth more than he can pay me for the price of this establishment. He winds up dead, I claim the place via imitate domain, I can regain the profits lost on renovating this place and finding new management by the income it generates. You know halfbreed, regular Caldari business practice. You cleave him appart, you repay the blood you owe me. Not only that, but once you've done that to prove just how sorry you are for leaving me I'll offer you the best setup this side of the Perimeter. You want to get back into fighting here? Okay, but you do it for me like the good old days. You do that and I'll be more than willing to pay you the price of the Templar, with even more money from all those winnings."
"The templar is free," Galm found himself shouting, a wide smile playing across his lips, "Like I said, he was a gift."
Grabarc cocked his head, eyeing Jester carefully.
"Right... So this guy is... Just part of your team? Customs told me you brought a whole ship of spooks with you. Well I'll tell you what, I'd be more than willing to buy out your team and make the five of you the most powerful soldiers in Snowfall. That's the gods' honest."
"No fine print? No dues to pay?"
"Son, whatever you want you'll have. I treat my people well. You want a house, you got a house. Someone giving you trouble? I'll see them dealt with. Got any debts? Consider them wiped. And all you have to do is take this first step."
He grabbed Gansu by the chest and threw him off of his chair, sending him rolling over the table between them and onto the floor as the surrounding bouncers cheered in excitement. The promise ran laps in Galm's head. All debts, wiped. It was certainly enticing.
"You got a weapon on you bro?" the guard from before asked, openly brandishing his freshly drawn pistol.
"Yeah," Pixy barked, bending over to pick up the knife he had dropped, "A bomb. A big ******* bomb."
Grabarc applauds once again, obviously entertained.
"This guy! This beautiful, beautiful guy! I can't wait to do business with you again, and with your Gallente friend! Now if you'll excuse me I promised I would have nothing to do with killing this man. I will take my leave, and will see you bright and early at the games tomorrow Fae-haan! We are going to make a lot of money together!"
He strolls out, practically dancing as his guards follow him through the small steel door. In no time at all the only people left in the club are Pixy, Jester, and the sobbing old man in the endless beat of the club.
Kirjuun! Uakan!
Teknikiara!
Kanpai kameitsamuu!
Ra ra ra!
> --Confirmed Badguy Cera YC116--
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Clockwork Jester
Namtar Elite
Gallente Federation
62
|
Posted - 2014.10.10 20:55:00 -
[50] - Quote
Noah didnGÇÖt much like being called a spook. Although at the moment he was acting in a similar capacity. The soldier viewed the term with a negative connotation. To him a spook was someone who gave the illusion of trust while working towards some secret agenda. A spook was not just someone he could not trust but someone he expected to attempt to stab him in the back if he or his team interfered with their objective.
GÇ£DonGÇÖt much care to be called a spook,GÇ¥ He thought to himself. Given the current situation he could not voice his opinion on the use of the word.
With only the three of them left in the club Noah finally let out a sigh, and his shoulders visibly dropped as he lowered his head. He felt foolish for expecting the meeting to go smoothly, and without any issues. The soldier felt like he should have seen it coming sooner, not that kicking himself over it was going to change anything. All that was left was to make a decision. On the one hand they could kill the man, after all it was the simplest solution. Just adding another body to the stations count. Or they could allow the man to live, to escape and possibly gain an ally. That option also presented with a large number of potential problems. If they allowed him to live and Grabrac found out that would be the end of the game.
Jester approached the seated Fae, and placed a hand on his shoulder.
GÇ£Give me the damn knife,GÇ¥ He actually took it from him while he asked.
No matter the decision they were about to make Noah felt that the one to make it should at least be clear headed, which Fae certainly was not. Besides, making the decision to end a mans life while you were high could lead to other complications later.
GÇ£You shouldnGÇÖt be trying to make a decision in you condition anyways.GÇ¥
As Noah was mulling over his options the knife was twirling around his right hand, something he did while he was thinking. Although he did not like the options that were given to him he was relatively quick in coming to a decision. The twirling of the knife ceased, he had made up his mind, and turned his attention to the cowering old man.
The whimpering Gansu was a pitiful sight. A man who had managed to survive so long was reduced to begging in between sporadic fits of sobbing.
GÇ£I know you donGÇÖt want to hear it from me, but you really only have yourself to blame old man. You made a mistake, after so many years of managing to survive you made the fatal mistake of becoming complacent. Something you and I both know you had managed to avoid for so long.GÇ¥
In their line of work becoming complacent meant becoming vulnerable. If you ever got to the point that you felt comfortable, that you thought you were safe, was the point you had lost your edge. The worse part was that it provided you with a false sense of security. It made you feel like you had earned the right to be comfortable, to believe that you were better than you really were. It created a false reality. Even now as an immortal, one with multiple lives Noah was desperately struggling against it. Life, especially one with no end in sight was hard when you were constantly pushing yourself to be better simply so you did not stagnate, did not become vulnerable, did not become weak.
Noah pulled a pack of clove cigarettes out of his pants pocket with his free hand, shook one out and pulled it out of the container with his mouth. There was only one left. Noah had spent the majority of his time on the Crow lost in thought and smoking.
GÇ£You smoke?GÇ¥
Noah offered the man a cigarette, it could have represented a peace offering or a final indulgence before he came to his end.
Gansu nodded slowly, and accepted the last cigarette, and the light that Noah provided. He lit the old mans first before lighting his own. Both men took a long drag, Noah stared off into the distance for a brief moment. Gansu knew what was about to happen, the decision had already been made, he stopped his whimpering and pleading. There was no point in trying any longer. A soft crackle and sickly sweet scent filled the air.
Noah kneeled next to the old man and gently placed his hand around the back of GansuGÇÖs neck. In a seamless motion Noah slid the knife between the mans 4th and 5th rib, the 4th intercostal space, at a slight angle. The knife easily punctured through the muscle and cartilage and through the soft tissue of the lungs. Gansu made a soft hissing noise as the air trapped inside was suddenly released. The old man shook for a moment from the sudden jolt of pain. The cigarette fell from his mouth and rolled into the gathering pool of blood. The cigarette continued to burn as the manGÇÖs life faded away. NoahGÇÖs head was right next to the dying mans.
GÇ£It will only hurt for a bit, only until your lungs fill up with blood.GÇ¥
Noah had effectively sentenced the man to a death by drowning. The old man knowingly nodded, tears starting to form in his eyes. The old man had fought so long to survive because he was so afraid of death, Noah knew the feeling.
GÇ£My name is Jester, and donGÇÖt worry, I will be seeing you soon.GÇ¥
Jester laid the man on the grown as his lungs filled with blood, his vision faded. The lack of oxygen was shutting his brain down. Jester used the man's shirt to wipe off the knife. At the very least the man deserved to know the name of the man who had taken his life, Noah owed him that much.
Placing the knife in his back pocket Noah turned his attention from the dying man and back to Fae, grabbing the high mercenary by his elbow and pulling him to his feet.
GÇ£Lets go, we need to find a place that is safe for you to come down off your high.GÇ¥ |
|
|
Vyzion Eyri
The Southern Legion
Final Resolution.
2497
|
Posted - 2014.10.11 12:47:00 -
[51] - Quote
Vyzion gritted his teeth, seething with anger.
A few minutes previously, Ritae and Leena had led him to the clinic. He had blanched and asked whether it was the right spot. Only here could something so decrepit, run-down and unhygienic be called a clinic. Situated between two beefy stores selling merchandise for the gladiator matches (Blood-siphoning goggles for the splash zone, electronic neon placards with names of favourites, and lots of drugs), the clinic could have been any colour in the visible spectrum in its hayday, but right now it was the colour of... well, ****. The walls had a similar consistency too, and the whole double-story, square building was unadorned and drab, the only indication that this was the clinic at all was the copious amount of blood, faeces and vomit around the entrance, forming a disgusting moat of human bodily fluids around it. The drawbridge, as it were, was a mat placed on top of three rotting corpses; a horde of flies guarded the entrance. The medic felt faint as he watched the two girls leap over the corpses and inside.
He followed. Surprisingly, the inside was a little better. Half the grey floor tiles, at least, weren't covered in some form of excrement. Beds lined the walls of the whole first floor, forming a grid for nurses and doctors to walk, with the stairs to the second story found at the back. The beds were dressed with stained sheets, but he could still tell they used to be white, unlike some of the inhabitants of the beds. Most of them were filled, and most of the men and women lying on them seem to have gotten themselves there, and lay groaning, in various states of misery, or in some cases, extreme euphoria. As Vyzion walked towards the stairs, a guy next to him seemed to be rolling around on the rickety bed in a state of rapture, moaning in pleasure. The strange thing was he was missing an arm which was poorly bandaged, and blood was beginning to pool on the floor beneath him.
Where in the name of Balac's sanity are the staff!? Vyzion wondered.
And in answer to his twisted question, some masochistic deity sent his answer. Leena and Ritae re-appeared from upstairs, walking down with cloth, some jugs of water, and bags of some powder. Vyzion ran over.
"What do you two think you're doing, stealing medical supplies?"
Ritae stuck her tongue out at him. "No, stupid, we're nurses."
Leena didn't make eye contact. If Vyzion's eyebrows could go any further up they would've reached an orbiting Customs Office. But they did not lie. They went around, giving the patients (there must've been dozens, sharing the supplies that the two girls held in their hands) water to sip with some of the powder which Vyzion guessed was some kind of painkiller, and bandaged the most seriously injured.
Vyzion shook his head, resolving to grab some supplies from upstairs and help out. He had some time, after all, before Junko would be sent here.
He marveled at how quiet it actually was. In such an understaffed, insecure location, on a station such as this, he expected chaos and uproar around the clinic, fighting for space and medicine as doctors rushed madly to treat as many as possible. And yet, it appeared to be as calm as it can possibly be.
Then he got to the top of the stairs, and realised why. The top floor used to be some sort of medicinal storage. A dial on the wall nearby with a little green glowing screen above it Vyzion assumed to be a temperature regulator. But there was nothing worth regulating the temperature for. The whole place was ransacked. Cupboards and shelves lay in all sorts of disarray and damage. Shards of glass littered the whole floor, remains of bottles, vials and jars. Whatever was in them was either long evaporated, or had contributed to the sickly colour of the building. A clothing rack in the center of the room, miraculously, remained untouched. Vyzion slowly walked over to it, glass crunching under his feet, and picked up a white surgeon's coat. He shrugged it over his shoulders and shook his arms into the sleeves. He kept walking until he found what he was looking for. A little stash of bandages and a bucket filled halfway with water, and some packets of the white powder, all hidden under an upturned desk.
He sat on the stairs, not angry anymore, watching the two girls treat the random strangers that had no where else to go, no where left in the station, but here. A clinic, Fae had said. Perhaps there was another clinic somewhere on the station, properly equipped. Vyzion doubted it. He spotted a few extremely well-built men, most with missing limbs, laying in a corner. Foolish mortals who saw potential limitless fame and fortune in winning gladiator fights against immortals in the pits. Perhaps the only sons of struggling families, reduced to crippled youths smiling faintly as one of the girls came around with some water.
Vyzion stood up. May as well help out. He projected his voice across the room. "Leena, what exactly is that powder? Some painkiller?"
She giggled. "Kinda. It's crash."
> Quis custodiet ipsos custodes?
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Hunter Junko
Sebiestor Field Sappers
Minmatar Republic
292
|
Posted - 2014.10.12 01:55:00 -
[52] - Quote
Hya'salia had been watching Thal's fight from the roaring crowd, observing her would-be opponent/ally and his hand to hand prowess as he fought against a significantly stronger foe. it was much better than being stuck down in the fighter pits, she mused as thal finished the brutor off. at that moment, her wristcomp beeped three times. it was a message, and none too soon.
"your up hon, meet us at the arena entrance, or suffer the consequences" the message revealed. but she felt surprisingly confident in her skill.
"time to go.." she said, as she squeezed her way down to a set of stairs that led to ground level. then took a lift down again into the fighter's pits, the stench of dried blood, ***** and general bullshit made Hya'salia want to gag for air, but she pushed on towards the lift with a caldari staff member, her arms covered in scars and bruises.
"took you long enough, hon. you all ready to go?" she quipped.
"yeah... lets get this done" hya'salia remarked, her tattoo visible from her arms as she pressed a few buttons and then stood back as the lift came down.
but when it opened, there lay the body of Thal's former foe, already beginning to turn pale, most likely about to enter a state of rigor mortis. Hya'salia couldnt help but stare at the man's eyes, devoid of life. the staff member noticed, and blocked hya'salia from her sight.
"he's immortal, as are you hya'salia-haan, dont worry about that"
"...that was still a human body" Hya'salia said as she stepped onto the lift, its doors slamming shut bewteen the two, as the feeling of vertigo signlaed to her to prepare for the fight.
"ALLLRIGHT ARE YOU READY FOR THE NEXT MATCH?!?" The announcer's voice boomed in the intercom, the faint roaring of the crowd replied back with a vitality not heard of, as hya'salia began meditating, standing completely still. her breathing slowed to a still, mentally willing herself into a combat -state of mind, honed from countless times she flung herself off an MCC, the familiar rush of adrenaline causing her to block out all the other distractions.
she was ready..
"ANND NOW OUR NEXT MATCH, TO OUR NORTH, A FIGHTER HAILING FROM THE THUKKER TRIBE, WHAT A RARE SIGHT TO BEHOLD!!! GIVE IT UP FOR HYA'SALIA JUN'KIO!!!!!"
The Lift's doors suddenly opened , hya'salia calmly walked out from it, deftly ignoring the jeers and roars of the crowd, mostly likely the male participants.she took her time to observe the other lift, its doors obscuring her opponent's silhouette.the announcer continued his introductions.
"ANNND NOW HER OPPONENT, SADLY SHE IS FEW IN BETWEEN, SHE IS ABOUT TO MEET SAAHI MALKAAN!!!"
the crowd grew louder as the lift doors, and out walked another fighter.
the man was lean, his arms corded in muscle, his distinctly caldarian features made it intimidating for others watching.
Like Thal, she walked up to the middle of the arena and assumed her fighting stance, left hand clenched , her right open in a low sparring stance. Saahi did the same, assuming a stance of his own.
"welcome" he said. his tone implied that he was a regular to the arena matches.
"Dweu, Saahi-haan" she replied in her tongue, adding the 'haan' for formality's sake.
then, to the delight of the fans, she moved first. a fist came barreling out towards Hya'salia but she dropped low and chambered her fist, as saahi's fist barely cleared her head.
as soon as she was within reach, she threw a left counter up into the man's armpit. pain exploded in the man's face, as he staggered back, unprepared for such an attack as hya'salia continued her assault, sending a barrage of fists into the mans chest, ending with an uppercut to the man's jaw, followed by jumping up and landing a powerful dropkick to the Caldarian's chest. she quickly got up, around the same time Saahi recovered from the dropkick.
then it was saahi's turn. with a roar, he sent a barrage of fists of his own, hya'salia dodged and parried as much as she can, but saahi was faster. a lightning fast right hook caught her off guard, and glanced off hya'salia's left cheek. the pain was numbed by the adrenaline in her system and so she countered, by grabbing Saahi's fist as it passed by her, and tugging it lightly, combined with the momentum of the punch making saahi lose his balance slightly.
slightly turned into a fatal mistake, as she let go, faking a left punch, but using her right, her hands outstretched as she struck the man's neck. Saahi started to stumble, and hya'salia then landed a roundhouse kick to saahi with brutal precision.
the man fell, his control over his body lost as he slammed into the ground, and the crowd roared even more , and they wanted death.
Hya'salia lowered her hands , and clasped them together, she made a silent prayer, in her tongue. Saahi looked up at her and tried to make out his question to her.
"w-what ar-are y-y-you saying?" he spat out. this caused her to stop midway, and look at him in the eyes.
" thukker tongue, it means 'Let me guide you into paradise'.... Ny't my'j dyo'as atho Wynarii' she replied.
the man smiled, and looked up to the station's roof.
"and your name? i would l-l *Coughing* love to learn your m-m-method of fighting" he said.
"Hya'salia, i usualy operate in cal-space, but look for me in the wildlands, i'll be waiting" she responded, as reached over and forcefully closed the man's eyes, and then she sent a power hammerfist down upon the man's chest. the force from the blow stopped the heart, cutting off the man's blood supply and within seconds the man was no more.
"MY,MY,MY. ANOTHER FIGHTER DOWN!!! THE AMARRIAN AND THE THUKKER BOTH CONTENDERS IN THIS BLOODSPORT WE HAVE HERE, GIVE IT UP FOR HYA'SALIA JUN'KIO!!! WILL SHE CONTINUE THIS DEADLY SPORT? AND WILL WE SEE GREAT FIGHT IN THE MAKING, LET US FIND OUT IN THE NEAR FUTURE!!!!"
as hya'sali returned to the lift, she ran a finger over where saahi's fist connected with her face.
|
Hunter Junko
Sebiestor Field Sappers
Minmatar Republic
292
|
Posted - 2014.10.12 01:58:00 -
[53] - Quote
"ow..." she said, as the lfit descended to the ground floor. she only hoped this tournament is over with, as she made her way to the resting area, caring little for another fighter already there and laid down on a bed closet to a ventilator letting the cold air coming from the vents cooling her face. |
True Adamance
Praetoriani Classiarii Templares
Praetoria Imperialis Excubitoris
13477
|
Posted - 2014.10.12 22:52:00 -
[54] - Quote
TheyGÇÖd chosen HawkerGÇÖs.
Apparently she didnGÇÖt mind that it was a strip club, or at least didnGÇÖt feel awkward there despite the line to the club being primarily compose of intoxicated young men and the occasional older gentleman out to the peep shows.
She even seemed to find the whole process of the line enjoyable enough, sharply elbowing anyone who tried to grope, laughing all the while as a pair, no older than sixteen, tried to proposition her. To her credit she made the show entertaining, twirling a lock of hair in one of the most clich+¬GÇÖd mannerisms of cinema he knew of, the Gallentean floozy.
About half way through a series of rather inappropriate comments from the boys she gestured for him to step in, which he did with great amusement, pushing between them with a grunt.
The pair evacuated the line, almost evacuated their cargo pants if Kador was any judge, ducking under the velvet cordon and taking off across the plaza to another bar.
As they closed in on the bouncerGÇÖs she became more chatting, familiar even, he supposed that molar had meant more to her than he could have known.
She must have spied the card poking out of the top of his pocket because as they approached the bouncers she snatched at it, unfolding it, taking a quick glimpse at the provocative images on it, eying him suspiciously.
GÇ£YouGÇÖll fight in Pits but wonGÇÖt even go a conversation without blushing at the mention of strippers? Unbelievable.GÇ¥
The bouncerGÇÖs waved her on without even checkingGǪ..well one of the bouncers did some checking, completely ignoring the Amarrian, who was roughly patted down and had his papers scrupulously checked.
Eventually the relented, allowing him to pass on into the club.
It was almost entirely what Kador had expected in some respects, and in others his imagination did the place a disservice.
Pressed up against one of the near walls dozens on raised catwalks extended into an area of lavish booths, tables, and barstools where dozens of customers fawned over the undulating forms of the exotic dancers. Their bodies were conditioned perfectly, the perfect blend of sex appeal and athleticism required of a professional, and each one he supposed appealed to a kind of client who would favour that dancer with their scripts.
Here and there off duty dancers, more oft than not bare breasted and with milky eyes, wandered between the booths offering their varied services to the clientele, seductively glancing at new comers or handing out their own small cards like the one that had resided in KadorGÇÖs breast pocket.
Others simply sat at the open bar waiting for them to buy them a drink or perhaps simply waited for their shifts to start, wholly uncaring as they received appreciative stares from staff and patron alike.
Beyond the main stages was a large area with another set of raised platforms, however these were packed with speakers and lightGÇÖs designed for musical entertainment and performances, the space he assumed was a dance floor. A few knots of people crowded out onto it drinks in hand moving with the rhythm heavy with bass.
Next to that comprising and entire wall of the building with niche bars, each one themed and open to the main thoroughfare through which the dancers performed and passed by on their rounds.
There were six. Three that we primarily bars Thirsty HawkerGÇÖs, cELL, and -0, a smoking room the ExecutiveGÇÖs Lounge, a Fretix distributor Breakway, and a Drop Den in The Way Down.
He glanced down at his partner as if to indicate that he had no knowledge of where to start.
She gave him a nudge and led him towards the bars at the far end of club, tugging at his shirt as one of the strippers passed by, glancing half-heartedly with distracted eyes.
She led him to the one with a sign denoting -0, the name was Sub Zero or so she told him, where they made for the bars through a crush of patrons.
The first thing he noticed as soon as he stepped foot into the area that comprised -0 was the temperature drop. It plummeted, obviously part of the draw he guessed, and left patrons breath fogging up as it left their mouths. One client resting by the bar was not even letting that be the case. He had two of the half-naked dancer is his arms alternating GÇ£sharing body heatGÇ¥ with them. If the dancers were cold they did not complain, just sipped politely at their beverages, but physically it was impossible to hide the discomfort.
GÇ£What is it?GÇ¥ She asked, leaning across the bar ordering some drinks, service for which she received instantly.
He took the proffered tray from her and they wandered out to one of a dozen high tables extending down from the ceiling and a pair of barstools. They took their seats and divvied up the drinks, her offering him a generous portion of the smaller glasses.
GÇ£This was not what I was expecting I guess.GÇ¥
GÇ£ItGÇÖs not just a strip club yGÇÖknow. Great scene in here, and reasonably safe if you donGÇÖt mind theGǪ.GÇ¥hands on approachGÇ¥ some of these guy take.GÇ¥
He raise an eyebrow, taking another one of the small alcoholic shots and draining the glass. GÇ£You like that sort of thing?GÇ¥
She shrugged, taking another sip of her drink. When she exhaled her breath was swirling mix steam.
GÇ£Sometimes yeahGǪ.. but whoGÇÖs to say I donGÇÖt come here to appreciate the female form? Some of these dancers just give me the tinglesGÇ¥ She replied sarcastically, grinning and punching at his shoulder at his thoughtful expression. GÇ£Kidding Choirboy, donGÇÖt have a fit. They have ladies nightGÇÖs every other day. Not the same level of talentGǪbut it has it proGÇÖsGÇ¥
"We were commanded to burn the system...We did. I mourn the loss of the innocents caught in our fires" -Kador Ouryon
|
True Adamance
Praetoriani Classiarii Templares
Praetoria Imperialis Excubitoris
13477
|
Posted - 2014.10.12 22:54:00 -
[55] - Quote
They passed the time in companionable conversation, swapping stories, alternating rounds during which time she introduced him to some of the bars famous Sub Zero drinks. He distinctly appreciated the stories she told, when she spoke about Shoashu Sasaanko you could tell she really loved the place. Its greasy hotels and brothels were not the shabby dives and sin filled pits he saw. Even the club, full of exotic dancers and excited male clients, were nothing out of the ordinary, nor too were the back streets where sheGÇÖd be mugged, or done her first shot of Frentix with her sisters.
He heard a lot about the place and it soon dawned on him that this was her home just as much as the small Vinyard on that tiny spit of land in the Tash-Murkon, or the Spartan apartments of the TES Eternal Flame, were his. He also spent time watching the shows, the tame ones at first, they were almost artistic in some respects, as dancers in tight-fitting leotards spun on poles some ten or more feet off of the raised catwalks.
Awkwardly enough she did too, sniggering as alcohol began to take effect, and his eyes began to wander to the less savoury, where scripts were thrown onto the stage or placed in whatever of their their scanty garments still remained.
She didnGÇÖt complain though, nor did she seem against the shows themselves, several times giving the girls deafening wolf whistles over the cheers as the shows ended, more oft than not in a display of flexibility Kador would not have thought possible.
Satja was always good at the advanced calisthenicsGǪ he banished the thought before it could take root. It was not appropriate, even in a strip club on Shoashu Sasaanko, and ever would be.
Given artificial confidence by the drinks he asked her if sheGÇÖd ever done something similar herself. She unexpectedly blushed, shrugging off the question, mumbling something about how she wasnGÇÖt cut out for it, not conditioned or pretty enough for it.
He distracted himself watching another show, as the crowds filed away from the previous one to the darker cloisters of the club to watch what she had told him were some particularly seedy peep shows.
The next round of drinks came and Kador was surprised to see two tall, thin glasses capped off at the lid. Within the frosted confines of the glasses with a billowing mass of fluorescent, almost gaudy, colours, swirling about as a gas.
He eyed her warily.
GÇ£DonGÇÖt worry ChoirboyGÇ¥ She kept using that nickname for him. He supposed it was fitting, and probably not the worst she had for him. GÇ£Just vapors. IGÇÖm not trying to corrupt you entirely yet. The station does that in its own time.GÇ¥
Yet, he considered, a wry smile appearing on his face.
GÇ£How does this all work then?GÇ¥
GÇ£Like so Choirboy.GÇ¥
She drew the glass to her mouth shivering at the chilled glass, the lip of the glass however next to her own. She glanced up, her look saying You still following me?
As he nodded back she flipped up the catch of the lid. The vapors seemed to be sucked through into the open air, wispy arms of yellow, green, purple, and pink trying to disperse into the air. She did not let them however, she drew the vapors into her mouth, flicking the lid shut, closed her eyes enjoying the sensation as the vaporised alcohol was absorbed into her blood stream.
GÇ£ThatGÇÖs it?GÇ¥ He asked, the round had been damn expensive.
She didnGÇÖt reply. Just shook her head, still wrapped up in the drink. Perhaps it was better than he would have though.
However she surprised him yet again as she leaned across the table, breaching personal space, exhaling rapidly several times.
Where normally only the white mist could be seen, now she could exhale a variety of colours, two of the clouds a rosy pink, the other a sickly green/yellow.
At this point Kador knew he had to try his own. He followed her instructions, lip of the glass to the bottom of his own, flipped the catch, and drew in a deep breathGǪ.. And entered a fit of coughing as her drew in far too much. The taste was exquisite, not like any heGÇÖd tasted before. He could understand why she was such a fan. Each vapour had its own taste and they lingered on the tongue, and they fluctuated in strengths so that every few seconds another of the vapours would become prevalent.
Even coughing was a pleasant experience.
GÇ£Take it easy. Not nearly so muchGǪ.itGÇÖs pretty strong stuff Choirboy.GÇ¥
He could tell, his vision was once again blurring around the edges, however another round was too good to pass up.
GǣKalGǪ.Gǥ He grunted in between fits. GǣI appreciate that Choirboy fits okayGǪ..but you could just call me Kal.Gǥ
GÇ£Why?GÇ¥
GǣMy nameGǪ.I have oneGǪGǥ
GǣNo I mean why Kal over Perv, Kakku, JaijiiGǪ..Gǥ She said listing a string of other nicknames.
GÇ£Right, rightGÇ¥ He placed his hands between them indicating his surrender. GÇ£I get it.GÇ¥
He lapsed back into silence, noting oddly how she glared at him from under her cap. She genuinely looked angry.
GÇ£I do something this time? Oogle the wrong person? Not stare at you? What?GÇ¥
GÇ£You know youGÇÖre a real pretentious ass Kal. Evening at a bar and you never ask your partner her name. ItGÇÖs Tahiko Mila by the way, not that you seem to care Kal.GÇ¥
He realised then that she had been right twice that night.
Firstly he hadn't asked for her name. It had never occurred to him that sheGÇÖd care to give it, nor that heGÇÖd end up spending nearly so much time conversing with her. Embarrassingly enough heGÇÖd never had much experience with women in his time, and the one time that he had heGÇÖd messed it up beyond recognition.
He mumbled his apologies looking well rebuked.
She chortled at that, ignoring him and going back to her drink, watching one of the dancers intently.
Secondly the scene was good. Despite the cold rooms of the bar the club itself was packed. Dance floors were filling up around the place as several different bands, DJGÇÖs, and other acts were starting up.
"We were commanded to burn the system...We did. I mourn the loss of the innocents caught in our fires" -Kador Ouryon
|
True Adamance
Praetoriani Classiarii Templares
Praetoria Imperialis Excubitoris
13477
|
Posted - 2014.10.12 22:56:00 -
[56] - Quote
Patrons crowded in around them, pushing to get the front row spots, carving out their own areas of space in groups where theyGÇÖd dance, sing, whisper in the ears of the acts between songs.
Lights pulsed to the beat of discordant music drowning out the conversations of the other tables. Mila was still speaking across the table at him but he could not hear a word of it. Instead he just followed her gestures nodding every now and then.
Several acts came and went, setting up, playing, tearing down leaving odd moment of calmness and quiet throughout the club. DancerGÇÖs continued throughout the night, they were the main show anyway, but their shows were only punctuated by the loud and appreciative roars.
By that time they were several more rounds down, and Kador was feeling pleasantly out of his comfort zone.
GÇ£Those friend of your sure are takinGÇÖ their time yGÇÖknowGÇ¥ He said, tearing his eyes away from a DancerGÇÖs sensuously undulating waist , glumly placing his head in his hands. GÇ£CanGÇÖ believe theyGÇÖd keep ya waiting this long Takiho.GÇ¥
GÇ£I keep telling you KalGǪGǪ.hicGǪ.sGÇÖMilaGǪ.GÇ¥ She eyed her glass suspiciously, staring down the length from rim to the base, the upended the glass, draining the few droplets that still clung to its frosty interior.
Kador rolled his eyes in an exaggerated manner, indicating for her to continue.
GÇ£Mmmmm yeah. TheyGÇÖll either be in that Drop Lounge GÇÿntil day break or shacked up somewhere doinGÇÖ GǪ.GÇ¥Their own thingGÇ¥. Meanwhile I got stuck with the guy at CustomGÇÖs starinGÇÖ at my ass.GÇ¥ She said the last part playfully.
It was hard to simply ignore her pleasant personality, it was infectious, and he found himself playing along with the whole charade.
GÇ£Hold on a secGǪ.IGÇÖm not the one who came to the strip club to be assaulted by the clientele.GÇ¥
Now she rolled her eyes. Through the fluctuating pulses of the light show he could see she too was amused, and when one of the serving men passed by she flashed him a winning smile and ordered another round.
For the briefest of seconds he found himself almost jealous, but the passed and he chose not to act on it.
Minutes passed in comfortable conversation. She took the time to vent about her friends and he just listened quietly, appreciating a conversation that did not begin or end with him being drawn into another conflict.
Peace time was easy he decided, and it was enviable. Who would willingly want to throw themselves onto the crucible to fight and die again and again for all eternity?
GÇ£Kal?GÇ¥
GÇ£Yeah?....Sorry was just thinking yGÇÖknow.GÇ¥
Mila leaned in to the table, ignoring the severing boy as he brought their drinks, clasping her hands together just beneath her chin. She was trying to pay attention he was sure but a sudden change in the holographic displays from pop music videos to Pit fighting high lights drew most of her attentions.
Still she was at least trying to be genuine in her own twisted manner.
GÇ£About what?GÇ¥
He was baffled for a moment unsure how to answer her. He could have lied, but with the alcohol in his veins and the usually rock solid inhibitions torn down the truth was so much easier.
GÇ£Just things.GÇ¥ He replied casually, drawing a draught from his glass, appreciating how the florescent colours danced before his eyes as her sighed. GÇ£Seems like people expect a lot from me these days. IGÇÖm only here, and fighting, because someone else asked me to, and the only reason I can think off for saying yes when they asked for this favour is because someone else would want me to. Just wonder sometimes if I have an original thought in my headGǪ.GÇ¥
There was nothing for a moment, perhaps she was not listening he considered briefly, and so he returned to his drink nursing it carefully. HeGÇÖd had far too much anyway, far more than he was used to consuming in any one sitting without a meal.
He twitched suddenly as she let loose a roar of satisfaction, punching a fist into the air, then a low moan of disappointment.
Kador glanced up himself.
The displays were projecting the eveningGÇÖs bouts, the advancing winners, and the broken forms of the losers as they were dragged off to be disposed of. With a slight hint of amusement as he recognised two of the advancing winners names, Junko, whose highlight reel showed her shrugging off a blow to the chin, and Thal, who rather viciously appeared to twist a manGÇÖs head around a full one hundred and eighty degrees.
She groaned again noting the name of the TemplarGÇÖs opponent, burying her head in her arms, making overly dramatic sobs.
GÇ£Not a fan of the newbloods?GÇ¥ He offered, still amused.
GÇ£DidnGÇÖt come tGÇÖsee the newbloods... Lok Dorma was supposed tGÇÖbe a show this yearGǪ..jusGÇÖ hitting his strideGǪGǪ just my fuckinGÇÖ luck.GÇ¥ She shot back testily.
GÇ£Other champs are here right?GÇ¥
GǣNot enoughGǪ..Gǥ
GÇ£IsnGÇÖ Pixy back? HeGÇÖs one of your favourites right?GÇ¥
Her eyes lit up for a moment, but quickly narrowed as she looked at him suspiciously.
GÇ£What makes you think that smartarse?GÇ¥
He gestured to the cap.
GÇ£Just a guess GǪ. YGÇÖknow I heard it at CustomsGǪ..guess the action back there was his work or something.GÇ¥
A frown this time.
GǣSomething wrong with thatGǪ.?Gǥ
"We were commanded to burn the system...We did. I mourn the loss of the innocents caught in our fires" -Kador Ouryon
|
True Adamance
Praetoriani Classiarii Templares
Praetoria Imperialis Excubitoris
13477
|
Posted - 2014.10.12 22:58:00 -
[57] - Quote
She sighed.
GǣNawww just me and Ameana were reallyGǪ.. into him a few years back. Tickets and everything to his gigsGǪwe uhGǪ. tried..Gǥ
She made a gestures, both hands out in front of her as though she was lifting something over her head, rolling her eyes as Kador returned a puzzled look.
GÇ£YGÇÖknowGǪ. Flashed himGǪGÇ¥
GÇ£WhatGÇÖs that?GÇ¥ He asked genuinely.
GÇ£TchGǪ.never mindGǪbut he had a girl apparentlyGǪ. Probably had lots yGÇÖknow. Pit fighters pretty much get a free ride here if they can stand the life.GÇ¥
GÇ£Niina?GÇ¥
GÇ£Who?GÇ¥
GǣUhGǪ nothing. Hey look if I see him perhaps I can get an autographGǪor a molar or something else half as exciting.Gǥ He said the last part almost sarcastically, but the offer was a genuine one.
She shrugged, obviously not placated by his offering and returned to watching the short clips of the other fights with a glum look across the visible half of her face, the rest hidden as usual by the single bang of black-blonde hair.
So much for a peace offeringGǪ..
GÇ£YGÇÖknow KalGǪ I was thinkinGÇÖ about what you said before. All that I donGÇÖt have an original though stuffGǪ SGÇÖall right if you donGÇÖt want to do it. No one can tell you what to do and if you donGÇÖt want to you just donGÇÖt right.GÇ¥
She barely looked down from the displays which she followed intently, sky blue eyes following each punch, closing briefly at the moment of death then opening eyes dilated and drinking in the deathblow.
GǣYeahGǪI-Gǣ
GÇ£You donGÇÖt have to be anything you donGÇÖt want to be KalGǪ.I guess thatGÇÖs what GÇÿm trying to say.GÇ¥
Kador was shocked to silence. Word. Words he always wanted to hear, being repeated to him again. The way she said themGǪ.was so heartfelt, as if she truly believed that they were true.
He said nothing, just remained there shifting his attentions from the drink, to Mila, to the fights, the back to his drink.
He brooded for a time, unsure of what to draw from the familiar exchange. His face was a storm, those same wrinkles that permanently seemed carved into his face creased his forehead, and eyes were downcast and distant.
Another peal of laughter that reminded him of bells cut through the music.
GÇ£KalGǪ. Way to seriousGǪ. Way too serious.GÇ¥ She said laughing, slipping from the barstool, heavy boot making a muffled thumps as she circled the table. GÇ£CGÇÖmon IGÇÖm going to try danceGǪ.you canGǪ.do whatever it is you Amarrian do to make fools of themselves and glower at anyone I find distasteful.GÇ¥
And so he did, her tugging at his jacket, him with a stupid, out of character, grin across his features, and made a fool of himself.
"We were commanded to burn the system...We did. I mourn the loss of the innocents caught in our fires" -Kador Ouryon
|
Galm Fae
Eskola Ergonomics
338
|
Posted - 2014.10.13 03:03:00 -
[58] - Quote
Meanwhile...
Everything was simply amazing! Snowfall station was screaming past in a blur of multicolored flashes and garbled shouts and cheering. Galm continued to kick and holler, screaming louder at the rickshaw driver to pull the two mercenaries faster. The poor man was already clearly strained trying to keep the cart upwards on two legs, much less haul the team through the winding roads of the spaceport. He didn't question why he had found himself in a rickshaw... Frankly everything but the present seemed like an odd blur. Whenever he tried to put the parts together his head began to run into overdrive, taping broken shards of memories together until he finally decided it wasn't worth it. Frankly, it all seemed irrelevant compared to the pressing need of enjoying himself in the moment.
He looked over at his Gallente friend, who was clearly significantly less amused than Pixy seemed to be. It was curious that the pair of perfectly healthy gentlemen were relying on the poor bastard in front of them to haul across the station. The sharp shard of rational thought physically hurt, forcing Pixy to react and clench his forehead in anguish. He ran his fingers through his hair, pushing his stetson out of the way in the process. He did a double take, patting the top of his head to confirm what he though he was seeing.
Yes, he was definitely wearing a stetson now. He carefully reached up and removed the hat, reveling a deep half-healed gash on his scalp that had begun to ooze gossamer nanite-laced blood. Another deep shard came crashing into the forefront of his conscious, making him shutter in shock as a brief moment of lucidness overtook him. That was right... He couldn't walk... At least not very well. Jester had tried to move him out of his seat... And when Galm tried to move he had tripped over Gansu's body. There was enough time to utter a single curse, then he fell forwards and busted his head open on a strip-pole. He leaned backwards, laughing so hard he found it hard to breath as the driver of the cart looked back at the soldier condisendingly.
"Hey hey hey... Wait a minute brah," Pixy started to stagger leaning uncomfortably close to Noah, "That's right, you killed Gansu, for me! Duuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuude... That was cold."
He leaned back, shaking his head.
"Ice cold. Like... Wow... That was ******* awesome! Can you do that again? Can we kill the driver!? C'moooooooon, I wanna see you kill something! That was... Like... Black Eagles stuff back there! A-- Are'ya'black'gle? Are'ye'ya? Cause'that'd be pretty ballin' if I say so m'self guyyyyy. Hey. Hey. Noah. N-n-n-n-no no no no nooooooo-ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Noah? NOAH!"
The last shout came out so loud it made the drive jump slightly as he went along his way, shaking his head.
"Noah?... I'm sorry. I just love you so much man. Y'ra good friend."
Pixy reached out and pressed his nose onto the Gallentes, making a single meeeep sound as he retracts it. He smiles boldly and leans back, extremely content with himself. He started to dig through his own pockets, needlessly tossing aside anything he didn't find immediately stimulating. Some lower-value ISK chits, a number of photographs of girls he had never seen before labeled 'Hawkers'-- An odd name for a girl, much less five. Hawkers must have been a popular name on the station twenty years ago-- poker chips, machine coins, robotic eye (he kept that), and a large three pound tube of unprocessed rock salt. He wasn't entirely sure where the carriage was going, but it was apparent that they had already been around the block a fair few times in downtown snowfall looking for it. Which was concerning! They had a match to fight tomorrow! They needed to find some place to sleep!
Wait. No. Yes? No. No! That was what the two were looking for, a place to stay! Another serrated memory burrowed into Pixy's head, this time slightly less painful than before. The mindflood was clearly wearing off, which meant he needed to find someplace with a functioning toilet and mattress immediately before the nausea and subsequent crash took it's toll. The mere though of the horrible after affects on a high like that was enough to make him a little sick, bending over in the cab and threatening to unload the contents of his stomach onto Jester's boots.
"We're going to one of the hostel, right? Pretty sure I mentioned that. Grabarc has them all over the city, giving out hot meals to teenage kid's. It's a roof over their head, gets them a job causing some trouble, so on and so forth. Place is a pirate factory... But nice enough if you're into that non-profit stuff. Should be cozy in there! We could share a bed together! Hoooow romaaaaaaantic! Hahahahaaaah! I'm kidding kakku... I wouldn't want to throw up on your chest or nuthin' when I'm cuddling with you! Kidding again, buddy! I don't do dudes dude!"
Gods and spirits, his words just didn't end! They flew forwards like the waters of life, line after line of ingenious material that Jester was fortunate enough to overhear. He just wished someone was writing down what he was saying or checking his flow, like those Brutor rap's he'd listened to back when he was younger. Oh gods, rapping sounded fun! He need to start rapping that instant! He started with a few head bobs, kicking his feet to the beat before breaking out in song in his seat.
"Running, running, we be runnin' runnin', through snowfall baby? Hellhole? Maybe! But fear no viper, long short tall, me n' my crew gon' **** em' all. Fuckin' all, **** the law. Concord don't know we know how to ball. CJ here? He know how we do! I write this verse from me here to y-- OH LOOK WE'RE HERE!"
The rickshaw came to a rapid haul, practically tossing the soldiers from the vehicle. The man practically threw himself from the bar, bracing himself against a nearby wall as he dug madly for a cigarette.
Kirjuun! Uakan!
Teknikiara!
Kanpai kameitsamuu!
Ra ra ra!
> --Confirmed Badguy Cera YC116--
|
Galm Fae
Eskola Ergonomics
338
|
Posted - 2014.10.13 03:13:00 -
[59] - Quote
"Soldier!" the Jin Mei screamed at them in broken Napanii, panting heavy, "I take you here! You take slug and go now! You go now!"
Slug?
Galm slowly lowered himself out of the cart, looking at the rear hitch. There sat a massive fedo, easily 200 pounds pouring over the sides but held in place with a series of crude lashes. Noah shot him a spiteful look, assuming Galm knew exactly why they had picked up such a vial creature along the way. He blinked and everything clicked. Mostly anyway.
Ah, he decided, That's what the tube of salt was for. Damn, that would have been a sight to see.
The two bickered for quite some time, debating who would be the exact one to remove the fedo from the cart. Eventually Galms irrationality won out over Jesters will. Regretfully the poor Gallente dragged the slug to the street corner and tied it off to a nearby bicycle rack, assuming someone would come by and take it for whatever reason. It wasn't either of their concerns what that reason might be, but it would probably be better than being salted to death.
When all was said and done the two charged the hostel, exchanging broken words with the local manager. Galm got about halfway through the conversation with the poor woman before eventually losing all interest and collapsing to the floor, leaving his comrade to deal with getting the pair a room and a hot meal.
Kirjuun! Uakan!
Teknikiara!
Kanpai kameitsamuu!
Ra ra ra!
> --Confirmed Badguy Cera YC116--
|
Clockwork Jester
Namtar Elite
Gallente Federation
63
|
Posted - 2014.10.17 21:29:00 -
[60] - Quote
With a high, concussed, and probably unconscious Galm resting on the less than sterile floor Jester took over the task of procuring a room. He had just finished working out the details when Fae started to regurgitate the contents of his stomach all over the floor. Noah let out a heavy sigh, it was going to be a long night.
Galm Fae wrote:GÇ£When did I drink Quafe?GÇ¥
GÇ£You kept telling me it was the greatest drink ever, you downed nearly a whole case of the crap. That and you wouldnGÇÖt stop eating some weird stew IGÇÖm pretty sure was made from fedo, or at least thats what it smelled like.GÇ¥
Noah helped Galm to his feet, ignoring the smell, and guided him to the room. The room was bare, two small beds, a single old chair, two tables, and a community bathroom. On the upside they had a decent view.
GÇ£Get yourself cleaned up. IGÇÖm going to make something to eat.GÇ¥
Noah left Galm to his own devices for a few minutes while he left to use the community kitchen, making sure to lock the door as he left. While Galm was dragging them around the station Noah had managed to gather a few supplies. He needed Fae to eat something, or at least try. There was little doubt in NoahGÇÖs mind that anything the man consumed would not be staying in his stomach for long. Nevertheless he would make something to eat.
Noah returned several minutes later with two plates of curry and rice. He was by no means an expert chef, but he was capable of making a few things. It was a simple meal, but one that he hoped Galm could actually keep down. He set both plates down on one of the side tables.
GÇ£It might not taste great but you should try to eat it. IGÇÖm more worried about you becoming dehydrated though.GÇ¥
Noah pulled an IV kit and several solution bags out of a plastic bag he had brought up earlier. He pulled the chair up to the bedside and quickly wrapped a tourniquet around FaeGÇÖs left forearm. Thankfully the clone had decent veins so finding one wasnGÇÖt much of an issue. Without a word of warning Noah inserted the 20 gauge needle into his vein. He waited for blood return before flushing it and tapeing it down. He attached it to tubbing and hung the IV bag on the wall.
GÇ£You are probably going to **** like a horse later, but this will keep you hydrated, donGÇÖt pull it out or IGÇÖm jamming the next one someplace you wonGÇÖt like.GÇ¥
Just as he was finishing up with the IV there was a light knock on the door. Noah drew his bolt pistol and took aim at the door.
GÇ£ItGÇÖs open.GÇ¥
The door swung open revealing a short haired brunette women of mixed descent.
GÇ£You the one who was asking about a nurse?GÇ¥
She looked more like a stripper than a nurse with synthetic body parts, and a face full of makeup. Unless she was there to pretend to be a nurse.
GÇ£Yeah. You will be taking care of him for the night.GÇ¥
Noah pointed his thumb towards Galm as he continued to wretch into a garbage can as he put his pistol away.
While Galm had been wandering around the station with no productive purpose Noah had been gathering supplies. He had also been looking for a clinic. Unfortunately the inhabitants of Snowfall had informed him that the clinic had been shut down by Grabrac a few years ago. Those that had been working there either left the station or moved on to other opportunities. After some searching he had managed to find a nurse who had been working at some place called Hawkers.
GÇ£You know I havenGÇÖt actually practiced as a nurse for awhileGÇ¥
GÇ£Its fine, IGÇÖm sure you still remember what to doGÇ¥
She only offered up a slight smile in response.
GÇ£There is some food there if you are hungry, you can spend the night here too if you want.GÇ¥
Noah motioned to the plates of food and then the second bed as he stood up from the chair.
GÇ£IGÇÖll be back in a few hours, just make sure the baka doesnGÇÖt aspirate on his own vomit.GÇ¥
With a sigh he headed for the door.
GÇ£Oh, there are a few sedatives in that bag if he gets to be too much for you. Although IGÇÖm not really sure how effective they will be on him. Lock the door when I leave and donGÇÖt let anyone else in.GÇ¥
With nothing left to say Noah let her get to her job and headed back into the chaos. There was still a number of things he needed to take care of before he called it a night.
|
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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.
|
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--
|
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
|
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
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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
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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--
|
Galm Fae
Eskola Ergonomics
344
|
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--
|
True Adamance
Praetoriani Classiarii Templares
Praetoria Imperialis Excubitoris
14061
|
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
|
|
|
Vyzion Eyri
The Southern Legion
Final Resolution.
2510
|
Posted - 2014.11.03 08:29:00 -
[91] - Quote
Vyzion was onto his fifth stack when Galm walked in with another man. He was about to wave when he saw the other man's mechanical limb. Captain Morgan GÇÿWulverGÇÖ V+órcolac...
Vyzion finished his next pancake, took a sip of coffee to clear get it all down, sat up a little straighter and crammed a pancake into Junko's drooling mouth. But it didn't look like the two were interested in making sure the squad were keeping their minds on task. Indeed, Galm himself was obviously recovering from an overdose of some horribly potent substance, and Wulver was less than amused at the contractor's state. Indeed, as the medic watched, Galm's introduction degraded into a full-on brawl between the two of them. I wonder if he has a rocket-propelled punch mechanism... The idea was immensely appealing to Vyzion, and he resolved to consider modifying future battle clones.
After the scuffle was broken up the pair took their seats at the bar, and Vyzion was still sitting silently, watching intently. When he realised the two really didn't care about the progress of the others, he shrugged and relaxed. He turned back to Junko and reached a hand out... but the pancake he had shoved in her mouth was gone. The medic blinked. I need to learn how to eat in my sleep too... He chuckled softly as he returned to his pancakes. Interactions with other soldiers off the battlefields were always so surreal.
He was about to say something to Thal, but the Templar had turned his back to the table. Vyzion looked up again from his pancakes (why couldn't they just let him eat his pancakes?) and saw two things.
Firstly, the enormous stack of chocolate chip pancakes Galm had ordered, topped with whipped cream. Wow, those look good. Maybe next t- oh. There won't be a next time, he thought.
Secondly, he found Thal had turned to greet Templar Ouryon walking in with a fairly stout-looking Caldarian stranger. Kador nodded to Thal, ordered breakfast, and then fell into a chair at their table, proceeding to lean back and study the roof, silent and brooding. He looked as worn out as the others, but covered in a few more layers of filth.
The medic looked down at his pristine white coat. He cleared his throat.
"So... where's Jester?"
> Quis custodiet ipsos custodes?
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Hunter Junko
Sebiestor Field Sappers
Minmatar Republic
302
|
Posted - 2014.11.04 04:34:00 -
[92] - Quote
Vyzion Eyri wrote: Vyzion finished his next pancake, took a sip of coffee to clear get it all down, sat up a little straighter and crammed a pancake into Junko's drooling mouth
as soon as the entirely of the Pancake was stuffed into Hya'salia's mouth, her eyes shot open.
'wai..what the-' she wanted to say but her gag reflex took over as shetried to chew on the whole pancake, which was difficult because her mouth was stuffed, but she slowly fought through the urge to spit the whole thing down and in a minute she swalloed the whole pancake.
then came the coughing as she bent over the table and started coughing.
"*coughcoughcough* what the he*cough cough* ell, that pancake was delicious, but why shove it down my throat!?!" Hya'salia grimaced, staring at Vyzion as she wiped a bit of bread from her lips.
then she looked around, trying to take in her surroundings.
Thal was next to her, greeting Adamance as he arrived with a small, fat caldarian elder. across from her was Vyzion, who was busy stuffing himself with what hya'salia thought was the entire store's supply of pancakes, still warm and toasty , along with a small assortment of side dishes.
She could already imagine savoring the food, unconciously reaching out for a plate.
"ummm... Vyzion? may i have some" hya'salia asked, while she grabbed a plate regardless of whether or not he answered. she picked up a fork and a knife and started cutting the pancakes into a grid. as soon as she was done , she drizzled a serving of honey and picked up a piece, taking a small bite.
the flavors, the honey and the fluffiness of the pancakes was harmoniously synchronized, the light tang of the lemon contrasted with the sweetness of the honey as she felt the pancake melt in her mouth.
"mmmmm- Byma'mui!! Mien Bmya'mui!!!" She exclaimed in her tongue as she picked out another piece and another , the feeling she experienced is similar to paradise, deftly ignoring the rest of the world. |
Galm Fae
Eskola Ergonomics
344
|
Posted - 2014.11.05 07:51:00 -
[93] - Quote
Vyzion Eyri wrote:
"So... where's Jester?"
"Who can say," Galm barked through a mouth full of waffle, "I'm not married to the man. He was with me when I left my room this morning. I got a bit side tracked and took a different route than him. The man is an adult, I'm certain he can handle himself doctor."
Fae shook his head spitefully and took a long sip of his milk, breathing out only after he had drank the entire glass. He let the cool cup hang in his hands for a moment, then let it rest gently against his temples. Despite his outward enthusiasm, the man was obviously wearing himself thin. Dried patches of blood still traced down his forehead where he had made contact with the strip pole the night before, and there were all manners of stains across his jacket that not even Fae could identify. He could have washed up before leaving for the day, but what was the point? Soon he'd be back out there in the pits for the first time in a long time, bloodied and broken but idolized by those in the stands... Assuming he was victorious.
In the past he had been so mindful of his personal hygiene, if only to maintain the illusion that he was still human, but now was different. His body was a tool at his disposal for this mission and nothing more. All he needed to do was drag it to the end of the assignment, and if his current coil couldn't make the journey he was more than happy to crawl into a second skin and start anew. He glanced over his fellow comrades, wounding if they knew exactly how far he was willing to go to keep his cover. The people of Snowfall demanded a certain showmanship from Pixy in the years past, and he was all too keen on letting his old sins take flight for the sake of the mission. In honesty, the real difference between him and a Gurista were negligible. Both were willing to forsake necessary protocols and social conventions for the sake of their best interests. It was just so unfortunate that the people of Snowfall weren't in Fae's best interest.
As he glanced over the mercenaries, his eyes briefly caught those of a nearby local. At first Galm grimaced, shaken to find himself looking into the eyes of some deadbeat and his fat lowlife counterpart. He turned around quickly, trying to make trivial conversation with Morgan. The capsuleer was in no mood to assist and continued to sip his coffee in silence, leaving Pixy to awkwardly look around the room and try in vein to not look back in the direction of the vagrant.
Except... No... That was no vagrant! Galm slammed the glass onto the counter and spun his stool around to face the Amarr, shouting over any conversations the soldiers may have been having among themselves.
"Kador!" he thundered, "You look like hammered ****!"
Kirjuun! Uakan!
Teknikiara!
Kanpai kameitsamuu!
Ra ra ra!
> --Confirmed Badguy Cera YC116--
|
True Adamance
Praetoriani Classiarii Templares
Praetoria Imperialis Excubitoris
14224
|
Posted - 2014.11.05 21:53:00 -
[94] - Quote
Galm Fae wrote:
"Kador!" he thundered, "You look like hammered ****!"
He cast a baleful eye at the halfbreed.
GÇ£I feel worse than sinGÇ¥ he croaked invidiously taking his coffee from the waiter and sipping at the muddy caffeine, warily at first, then more casually leaning forwards into the table facing the assembled operators.
They all looked worn down. As he had noticed before both Templar Vadam and Junko bore the bruises of their pit fights, though having watched the highlight reels of the combats he hadnGÇÖt noticed either take nearly so many blows as to account for those that mottled their skin already pushing through the later stages of the healing process.
Vysion seemed alright, clad in a foreign white coat synonymous with physicians. It was rather apparent he had found his way to the clinics as had been instructed.
Galm however was in a state to say the least in a state. Blood still matted his hair, running down from the brown, tousled locks across his fore head, and like Kador his original clothing bore the stains and filth from the night before.
This however did no surprised Kador in the least. Galm seemed the type to play hard and was lucky enough not to end up like that Junkie that had spasmed his way into a coma on his way here.
If fact none of their states surprised him. Shoashu Sasaanko was a beast of its own. He was glad for the fact that if Thal had been fighting outside of the arena that Junko has been there to back him up.
HeGÇÖd have to thank her later.
He turned his attentions back to the bitter coffee, watching the murky liquid formed a miniature whirlpool as he rolled the cup around between his hands.
GÇ£None of you look too much better than I do.GÇ¥ He muttered defensively.
Opposite him in his seat the old man was shaking uncontrollably, a thin sheen of sweat was evident on his face and from the growing stains under his arms, his coffee dripping over the lip of his cup and onto the table beneath.
His upper lip was curled back into a thin and obviously forces smile, and was making slight tittering noises as his eyes rapidly flicked back from the Amarrian to the rest of the assembled.
He recognised Thal and Junko, and was casting sideways slack jawed glances at Galm, who probably of the lot was the more famous in the area.
GÇ£Peace be Makoai.GÇ¥ Kador growled at the man a little too aggressively, he was sick of the manGÇÖs spineless display. GÇ£Put the damned caffeine down before you burn yourself baka.GÇ¥
The man blinked twice, surprised at the hostility in his partners voice, shot him a venomous look as if to say GÇ£ItGÇÖs your damn fault IGÇÖm here.GÇ¥
GÇ£Wrong side of the bed or something crawl up yer arse Amarrian?GÇ¥
GǣThose cubesGǪ..Gǥ
GÇ£Those rGÇÖsposed to make you happyGǪGǪ didnGÇÖt take you for that kindGǪyour God must be-GÇ£
GÇ£**** off Makoai!GÇ¥
He brushed it off with a dismissing wave, exhorting a exasperated huff from the Caldarian who seemed to find his confidence amongst all that indignation. His voice still occasionally trembled and broke at odd intervals but he covered for this speaking more to himself and any one of the immortals.
GÇ£You guys actually spend time with this tool?GÇ¥ He asked them, leaning over the gap nudging Vysion in the ribs playfully with and elbow. GÇ£Oh hey those look really good, might get some for myself huh? Good taste JaijiiGǪ.whereGÇÖs that pretty waitress huh? But seriouslyGǪ.. GÇ£
GÇ£How does this all work then?GÇ¥
GÇ£Like so Choirboy.GÇ¥
- Mila to Kador, Sub Zero Club, Shoashu Sasaanko
|
Clockwork Jester
Namtar Elite
Gallente Federation
65
|
Posted - 2014.11.06 01:33:00 -
[95] - Quote
After they left the room Noah had quickly lost track of Galm. He was rambling on about waffles, or pancakes, or some other sort of breakfast dish. In all honesty Noah had not been paying attention to what the man had been saying. He was more concerned with making sure that he was at least fit to complete his job. He was also in the process of finishing business with the nurse. As long as Fae wasnGÇÖt retching up his internal organs Noah didnGÇÖt much care what he was doing or saying.
The two had left the building at the same time, and for a few minutes Noah had remained with Fae, making sure he wasnGÇÖt going to tumble down a set of stairs and toss his face into a concrete wall. After a minute it was apparent that Fae had no intention of taking things slow or easy. After Fae jumped down a flight of stairs Noah abandoned his attempts at watching out for the man. He was either going to make it to the diner, or he was going to wind up dead in a stairwell.
Noah watched Galm jump down another flight of stairs, barely able to keep himself upright. With a sigh and drag on his cigarette the soldier turned away from the staircase and went off on his own. As he turned his back on Galm he felt a slight drop in his stomach. A slight pang of guilt. Noah had made the decision to accompany Galm yesterday, and although he had never agreed to take watch over him he still felt slightly responsible for him. With a long drag on his cigarette and some will power he shoved the feeling aside.
Jester was in no rush to get to the diner, the thought of greasy breakfast meats sitting in his stomach, or flour based breakfast cakes slowly expanding in his gut did not sound very appealing. He had also spent the majority of his night watching Galm regurgitate the contents of his stomach multiple times. So he was going to take his time, gather his thoughts, before he reached the appointed meeting place.
Galm Fae wrote:"Kador!" he thundered, "You look like hammered ****!"
Jester had wandered in just as Galm was causing another scene and accusing the Templar of looking like crap.
GÇ£You have no room to talk Fae.GÇ¥ Noah spoke in a deadpan tone.
The soldier tossed himself into a booth next to the others, sitting sideways with his legs hanging out the end of the booth. For the sake of appearances Noah ordered a cup of coffee, but he was going to refrain from eating any food. Besides it looked like Junko and Vyzion were eating enough for all of them. He leaned his head up against the wall and expelled a large amount of smoke from his lungs. |
Galm Fae
Eskola Ergonomics
344
|
Posted - 2014.11.06 07:08:00 -
[96] - Quote
True Adamance wrote:
GÇ£You guys actually spend time with this tool?GÇ¥ He asked them, leaning over the gap nudging Vysion in the ribs playfully with and elbow. GÇ£Oh hey those look really good, might get some for myself huh? Good taste JaijiiGǪ.whereGÇÖs that pretty waitress huh? But seriouslyGǪ.. GÇ£
Galm let his head hang for a moment, sighing with contempt as he began to pull himself from his chair. Morgan put a single hand on his shoulder, forcing the mercenary back into his seat.
"Let it go man," the empyrian groaned in a jaded tone, "He's just a baseliner."
"Yeah," Fae growled, "Just a baseliner."
"Yes," Morgan spat with emphasis, "Just a baseliner. The guy's an insect, no use getting your boots dirty by going over and stepping on him."
Morgan spun back around, facing away from the two. He signaled for another cup of coffee, leaving Fae to his own devices. He had long learned that there really was no controlling Pixy. All he could ever hope for was to put an idea in his head and hope that he decided to see things your way. What he did to the fat Caldari meant little to him, but it did seem like such a horrible way to start his day if he had to see another baseliner beat into the dirt. While looking away, Galm had long since crossed the room between the two and made his way to Makoai.
Quote:GÇ£You have no room to talk Fae.GÇ¥ Noah spoke in a deadpan tone.
The soldier tossed himself into a booth next to the others, sitting sideways with his legs hanging out the end of the booth. For the sake of appearances Noah ordered a cup of coffee, but he was going to refrain from eating any food. Besides it looked like Junko and Vyzion were eating enough for all of them. He leaned his head up against the wall and expelled a large amount of smoke from his lungs.
Galm snapped his head to the Gallente, grinning slightly as he took a long drag from his clove cigarette. He chuckled for a moment, then took a seat in the booth with Kador. Shaking his head, he drew out his package of menthols and pursed one between his lips before lighting it with a steel zippo.
"See, I think Jester has the right idea here," he chuckled through a cloud of smoke, "A smoke does me good. Takes the edge off... You want one? Mister-- I'm sorry, what was your name?"
The halfbreed happily placed the still burning menthol behind his ear and extend the package out to Makoai, shaking it to pressure him into taking one. The grubby filth took one, his hand shaking slight... Though out of fear or anticipation he did not know. Before he could open his mouth to introduce himself, Galm dropped the package onto the table between the two.
"Oh gods and spirits, sorry! Clumsy hands! Could you pick that up for my kirjuun? It'd sure be a kakkush, jaalan."
The sudden change to his more formal tongue was enough to set the man on edge, but he was forced to oblige as he reached forward to pick up the package of smokes. As soon as his hand made contact, Galm threw his arm down and connected square with his wrist. It gave a horrific pop, easily splintering into pieces internally as the joint hit the table before the rest of his hand. Rapidly, Pixy pulled the menthol from behind his ear and dug it into the hand of the Caldari, grinding it into his skin before it went out in a puff of smoke. The man hollered more in rage than fear or pain as Galm gave him back his hand when he began to recoil.
"You pull a comment like that to me again slug and it's going to be a knife going through your hand, you hear me? Kador, where did you even find this worm?"
Typical, Morgan thought to himself as the waiter came back nonchalant with his third cup of coffee, it always degrades to violence with him.
Kirjuun! Uakan!
Teknikiara!
Kanpai kameitsamuu!
Ra ra ra!
> --Confirmed Badguy Cera YC116--
|
Vyzion Eyri
The Southern Legion
Final Resolution.
2516
|
Posted - 2014.11.06 09:44:00 -
[97] - Quote
Passerbys would've looked in and thought there was an eating competition going on between Vyzion and Junko at this point, when Jester showed up. Vyzion had gotten his rhythm going now, and he continued chomping down on the flapjacks at a steady pace as the other Gallentean sat down at the table and ordered a coffee.
Clockwork Jester wrote:GÇ£You have no room to talk Fae.GÇ¥ Noah spoke in a deadpan tone.
The medic noticed the look Noah shot Galm, almost as if he were scolding a bad-behaved child. Vyzion grinned. Or at least he tried to make himself grin. The half-stack of pancakes in his mouth probably transformed it into a grotesque snarl.
Then out of nowhere, this Caldarian Kador had introduced as Makoai jabbed in in the ribs. A playful jab, but unfortunately for Vyzion, one that got him right in his most ticklish spots.
Templar Thal Vadam, sitting across from the medic, received a half-stack of pancakes to his face as Vyzion choked, then reflexively emptied his airways explosively.
"Sorry," he coughed. "Here, I'll help you clean it up."
Thal sat still as Vyzion cleaned, and whether he was astonished, amused or angry Vyzion could not tell, probably because the napkin he was using to wipe the Templar's face covered his features. When he was finished, he found himself in possession of a sticky, wet mess of pancakes, saliva and honey. Perfect.
He turned to Makaoi, cowering now from Galm, his broken wrist laying on the table, the burnt part of his hand gently smoking. His stout build had appeared to shrink next to the mercenary. "Hey, Mister. Put this on the burn." Without waiting for a reply, Vyzion slammed the mushy pancakes and honey into the Caldarian's hand, and wrapped the tissue around the back of the hand tightly.
Pleased, the medic turned back around and dragged another stack of pancakes back in front of Thal.
He sat back, burped, and pat his stomach. He called for another coffee, and the waitress scowled at him again before hurrying off to fulfill the order. He whipped out a packet of toothpicks from his pants, stuck on in his mouth and exhaled through his nostrils.
"Well," Vyzion began, over Makaoi's whimpers. "So far I've been enjoying this place... I think. Feel a little more comfortable in a dropsuit, though. The girls though, give me more of a kick than a combat rifle, even though I can't talk to them for ****."
The waitress had come over with another coffee and overheard the last part, and she muttered a response in shaky Gallentean.
"Got tha' right."
> Quis custodiet ipsos custodes?
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True Adamance
Praetoriani Classiarii Templares
Praetoria Imperialis Excubitoris
14252
|
Posted - 2014.11.06 22:34:00 -
[98] - Quote
Kador let out a sibilant whisper, momentarily enjoying the sharp pain as the cool air was sucked over the tops of his teeth, but kept silent.
MakoaiGÇÖs eyes bulged with a mixture of shock and pain as Galm landed a crushing blow against his wrist, dislocating it in a single sweeping motion, before turning the lit cigarette against the flesh of his inner arm.
At first Kador was thankful, the manGÇÖs own sweat seemed to snuff out the glowing orange ring pressing into his skin, however that feeling was short lived. His face turned a distinct puce and he began to tug at the lame arm trying vainly to struggle against the empyreanGÇÖs iron grip.
This was perhaps the first time Kador had truly witnessed the sporadic and instantaneous display of violence that he knew Galm to be capable of, and was for the moment shocked to inaction by it.
Pity welled up from inside him. Makoai had deserved no such punishment for his actions.
As Galm released him his arm he withdrew to the edge of the booth clutching the damaged limb tightly to his body, breathing heavily, and whimpering pathetically.
He didnGÇÖt look at any of them, just kept his head down staring down at the sudden grotesque angle his hand was now locked into with a look of stupor marring his features.
GÇ£Y-youGǪ..broke itGǪ. Kirjuun-haan..GÇ¥ He stammered, hysteria creeping into his voice, repeating the same formal and polite wording Galm had chosen, adding meaningless honorifics lest he suffer more harm. GÇ£I-itGÇÖsGǪ oh MakerGǪ. It canGÇÖt be fixedGǪ.why? I-GǪ..GÇ¥
Before he could even finish Vysion leaned over from the other table where he, Junko, and Templar Vadam had been enjoying their food, clasping in his hands a wad of kneaded pancakes and honey.
He took MakoaiGÇÖs hand not gingerly, patiently waiting as he flinched, withdrew, and finally relented, smearing the sticky mix of honey and saliva over the burn on his inner arm before wrapping it neatly.
Kador interjected before Galm could, leaning across the table placing himself between them trying to ease the man before he did something else foolish.
GÇ£Calm down.GÇ¥ He hissed at the older man, barely paying any attention to him, wincing as Vysion bound the wound. GÇ£Just keep a lid on it, weGÇÖll get you fixed up, and consider it four hundred thousand.GÇ¥
GÇ£He ******* broke my wrist! I-GÇ£ He wailed, not bothering to keep his voice low.
KadorGÇÖs arm shot out, grasping the top of the manGÇÖs balding head, bringing him in close so that their faces were only centimetres apart.
GÇ£Look itGÇÖs dislocated as worstGǪ.. HeGÇÖs sorry. ThatGÇÖs his sorry faceGǪ. Just keep quiet for now and maybe you get through this without him actually breaking it.GÇ¥
GÇ£Pay rise. MoreGÇ¥ he sniffed. MakoaiGÇÖs voice was petulant, but calmer than it had been, heGÇÖd grasped the gravity of the situation now and was wary of Galm and the others.
GǣFineGǪjust apologise and shut up.Gǥ
He did so without question and lapsed into silence nursing his wrist. It was evident that the pain still troubled the man but he kept it to himself.
The Amarrian let loose one of his characteristic sighs as he returned to his seat. However this time he chose to lean forwards keeping both arms up above the table, pushing the coffee cup out to the limits of his reach.
What a fine mess these EmpyreanGÇÖs are, he thought to himself bitterly, discounting the other Templar from their ranks, who of all of them seemed to retain some semblance of Amarrian dignity.
He glanced over ta his counterpart who seemed to be enjoying his breakfast and started suddenly. Several dark red splotches were visible around his upper lip, Kador was about to raise this to VysionGÇÖs attentions when he realised it was not blood and simply gave his kinsman a knowing smirk.
The back to Galm who was still sitting there with a foul look on his face and some kind of anger in his cybernetic eyes.
GÇ£Easy there Fae-haan, this guyGÇÖs a promoterGǪfact heGÇÖs our promoter, and heGÇÖs on board about theGǪ..GÇ¥
Kador leaned in closer to the half-breed to whisper.
GÇ£The maaatch fixingGǪ.heGÇÖs on board for thatGǪ. Just the kind of guy I need to get my GÇ£equipmentGÇ¥ shipped in discretely.GÇ¥
GÇ£How does this all work then?GÇ¥
GÇ£Like so Choirboy.GÇ¥
- Mila to Kador, Sub Zero Club, Shoashu Sasaanko
|
Thal Vadam
Praetoriani Classiarii Templares
Praetoria Imperialis Excubitoris
41
|
Posted - 2014.11.08 22:05:00 -
[99] - Quote
Thal chuckled to himself on the inside as he wiped some of the sticky breakfast refuse from his face. He wasn't in a state where such a thing could bring him any anger. He looked down at the small stack of pancakes in front of him and slowly started to eat. He wasn't very hungry, but he needed the energy for the day's fights.
He was excited, he lived for such fights. The call of the warrior was strong in him, and he was ready to test himself against everything the station's pits could through at him. He thought back to his training under his martial arts teacher, Master Kuul. All Thal knew of combat he learned from Kuul. Everything from large fleet tactics, to how to punch and kick correctly. The man had been like a father to Thal, but like everything in his life, Kuul died in fire and agony.
Thal turned his attention to his brother in arms Templar Ouryon. He looked more rugged, and beaten then his normal, noble appearance. The station must have been hard on him. Thal was old enough to handle the stations dark, disgusting, and villainous atmosphere. He did not know if Ouryon had the same capability.
He then looked at his employer, Galm Fae. Out of all the individuals in the cluster, Thal wanted to fight Galm the most. As a fighter, Thal knew Galm's reputation as a gladiator. Thal was looking forward to their fight, whenever it occurred.
Thal turned around and smiled at Junko as she ate. Thal truly delighted in her company, mostly because of their traning earlier. She had skill, skill that if tempered, could make her as good as himself.
"Are you ready for the pits Junko?"
"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
306
|
Posted - 2014.11.09 01:11:00 -
[100] - Quote
Thal Vadam wrote:
Thal turned around and smiled at Junko as she ate. Thal truly delighted in her company, mostly because of their traning earlier. She had skill, skill that if tempered, could make her as good as himself.
"Are you ready for the pits Junko?"
Junko was nearing her 3rd batch when she heard thal. she looked at him with some food still in her mouth with an expression that said: "huh?" after a few second she chewed through the pancakes and swallowed, finishing it off with the cup of coffee. she didnt like the bitter taste, much preferring to add generous amounts of milk and sugar to a light brown finish, but recalling what her employer had said about the coffee, she chose to take his advice. still it was refreshing despite the cup going cold.
setting down the cup with a light sigh and wiping her mouth with a napkin, she turned to thal and slightly chuckled.
"yeah, im ready for the next round" she finished, leaning back on her chair and patting her stomach in a playful manner.
"but i hear that the next round of bouts is going to be a 'battle-royale' sort of match, Galm is that true?" she inquired, putting aside her pates and leaning towards the tables looking at her employer. |
|
|
Vyzion Eyri
The Southern Legion
Final Resolution.
2520
|
Posted - 2014.11.09 21:28:00 -
[101] - Quote
Hunter Junko wrote:battle-royale
Vyzion managed to restrain himself from spitting his toothpick into True's eye. Instead he gasped and swallowed the damn thing.
As he sat gagging, eyes streaming, and body cringing at the sensation of the toothpick sliding down his gullet, his mind processed the words Junko had uttered over and over.
Battle royale.
Battle. Royal.
Free-for-all. Bloody.
Immortals. Crazy.
Battle-royale, free-for-all, immortals, bloody, crazy.
Bad clinic, not enough supplies or materials, bomb vests. Disorganisation. Chaos. Destruction. Madness.
Oh God, I know I make fun of the faithful all the time but, please help me no.
On the exterior he attempted to regain control of himself, despite this tempest raging inside of him. He tried to consider how the others would react to the idea.
Thal certainly wouldn't mind it.
True had plans with the Caldari man, and "four hundred thousand" sounded like a bribe if anything. Whatever True wanted to do in the matches, this would make things easier for him, because nothing spoke of entertainment like bigger, bloodier fights.
Jester didn't seem remotely interested in participating. This was one plus.
Galm surely would discard the idea as too deviant from the original plan, as the resulting aftermath of 'last man standing' could mean their plan would fail to be set in motion at all. But in his current state...
Vyzion gulped, and he could've sworn he felt the toothpick fall into his stomach acid and start dissolving as quickly as his hopes for things going smoothly.
> Quis custodiet ipsos custodes?
|
Galm Fae
Eskola Ergonomics
344
|
Posted - 2014.11.09 23:33:00 -
[102] - Quote
True Adamance wrote:
GÇ£Easy there Fae-haan, this guyGÇÖs a promoterGǪfact heGÇÖs our promoter, and heGÇÖs on board about theGǪ..GÇ¥
Kador leaned in closer to the half-breed to whisper.
GÇ£The maaatch fixingGǪ.heGÇÖs on board for thatGǪ. Just the kind of guy I need to get my GÇ£equipmentGÇ¥ shipped in discretely.GÇ¥
"The maaaaaatch," Fae growled, "We don't need any match fixing. We can punch through this on our own, we don't need some promoter to do it."
He sat back down next to Morgan, wiping his hands swiftly against his linen napkin before diving back into his breakfast. He flashed his butter knife at the elderly Caldari, making a quick stabbing motion before turning back to his waffles. He shook his head and kept speaking, flashing a charming smile at the waiter in an attempt to difuse the situation,
"You want my advice Kador? Dump the grub in some trash can, you won't have to pay him for his services. Better yet, pay off a guard to flush him out an airlock. Less people who know the better... Save for you dollface, you know I'd never hurt you."
The waitress rolled her eyes, pouring Morgan his sixth cup of coffee.
"You're not the first immortal coming into the bar to talk ****," she breathed through a set of pursed lips, "Certainly not the first to come in with some doom driven plan. Just pay for the waffles and get the **** out before doing whatever you wanna do."
She was a jaded thing, her apron splattered with all manners of batter and beverages. Her hands were covered in scrapes and bruises, with thick tally mark scars running up her forearms. Her's was a common story on Snowfall. All was fine at a superficial glance, but broken and bloodied on the inside. In other words, she was Fae's people. He had a way with the people of Shoashu, and his reputation certainly didn't hurt. He knew he didn't have to worry about her saying anything to Grabarc's men.
Hunter Junko wrote:"but i hear that the next round of bouts is going to be a 'battle-royale' sort of match, Galm is that true?" she inquired, putting aside her pates and leaning towards the tables looking at her employer.
Fae spoke through a mouthful of food, nodding lightly while he watched the server disappear into the back.
"Yeah, so about that... The plan was to use start the plan during the preliminaries, but things got a bit out of hand yesterday. We're... We're working for Grabarc now. Or so he thinks anyway. Our 'team' is sponsored officially but Grabarc's men, just like my original contract on Snowfall. He takes forty percent of the winnings, and in exchange he'll give us a run of the station and a whole mess of fame. If we win this, he'll want to meet us personally to congratulate us. Penthouse suite, big parties, the he's going to pull out all the stops."
He rolls his eyes, turning around to face his comrades.
"The snake was always flashy like that. But we need to make sure we secure enough winnings to have us in the finals. You want to get that far, you need to survive. If you make don't make it that far, get ready. I'm going to have Morgan give you access to your military clone reserves in a cargo bay. Your equipment will be in a separate box, but frankly there should be enough hardware to loot in the hanger to keep you well armed. You can do that, right Wulver?"
The capsuleer nodded, polishing off yet another cup of coffee.
"Aye," he confirmed with slightly cybernetic voice, "Already done. I'll be heading out tonight to get Steadyhand off the station. Sooner or later the Guristas are going to come looking for him, and it's probably better off that he get out of here while he still can. I'll pick up something special for you that should help with shutting this place down."
"Good. Any of you need to load into a new body, I need you scouting the area and placing bombs. See what guard positions you can start to disable before strike tomorrow. Do it clean and quiet. No one can know we're here. Makoai is it? You do... Whatever it is you agreed to do. On top of that, I need eyes and ears inside the station. Marking targets, getting us reservations, and getting that wrist checked out. If your on our team then you might as well have a working arm. Are we all clear on what needs to get done."
"Clear," Morgan thundered, tossing a set of ISK chits on the counter. He stormed out, more in determination than anger without so much as saying goodbye.
Kirjuun! Uakan!
Teknikiara!
Kanpai kameitsamuu!
Ra ra ra!
> --Confirmed Badguy Cera YC116--
|
Clockwork Jester
Namtar Elite
Gallente Federation
65
|
Posted - 2014.11.10 02:43:00 -
[103] - Quote
Jester silently observed the commotion from the comfort of his booth, only showing mild interest in what was happening. It wasnGÇÖt that what was happening was not interesting, he just could not emotionally invest himself into what was going on. The soldier had used up his stores of empathy and caring on Fae the day before. Given GalmGÇÖs current actions Jester was starting to regret his decision.
GÇ£Should'a just left him next to GansuGÇ¥
It was his own personal opinion on the matter, unfortunately the job required him alive and in a semi functional capacity. Jester was having a hard time determining if GalmGÇÖs actions were to the drugs, head trauma, or both. There was also the possibility that impulsive and confrontational was his base line. Noah was really hoping it was the drugs and head trauma.
When Vyzion applied the rather disgusting mash of chewed food to the mortals wound Noah couldnGÇÖt help but raise an eyebrow. It wasnGÇÖt like it was that difficult to get ice for the burn.
GÇ£Hey Doc, remind me, which backwater Matari school certified you?GÇ¥
Although his comment was meant in jest he was beginning to harbor doubts as to the legitimacy of their medic. Jester was just going to have to trust that Vyzion knew what he was doing when his life was on the line.
As the others greedily consumed their meals Jester absentmindedly swirled his mug of coffee counter clockwise. He had yet to take a sip from the mug, eliciting more than a few sneers of disgust from the waitress. Jester simply offered her a crooked grin whenever she passed by. If he had the emotional energy to sympathize with her he probably would have ordered a meal for her sake. As it was though the majority of his faculties were engaged with all of the potential problems they were soon to be facing.
The scale of the job, the weight that they bore should they find themselves successful. The pit fights themselves presented a unique challenge, and with the possibility of a free for all being announced it only made things more complicated. If what Junko said was true then the majority of their group presented problems. As a former champion Galm had a target on his back. Thal and Kador were both Templars, and as a result they were likely to be targeted as well. There was no shortage of mercs that disagreed with the Empire. Then there was Junko, she had managed to make quite an impression in her first round fight. Jesters first round fight on the other hand had been completely pedestrian. His match had taken place in the middle of the night. If one was to describe it nicely it would have been boring. He did not use any flashy speed or techniques, and he had taken his fair share of blows. His goal had been to make it to the next round without drawing attention to himself, he did not want to be remembered.
GÇ£If the second round really is going to be a giant cluster **** you two altar boys might want to watch your backs.GÇ¥
In addition to being generally disliked the Templars would probably have to deal with the fallout from the customs incident from the other day.
Jester still needed to finish gathering intel on the locations and patterns of the stations security forces. In addition to that he still needed to figure out the operating locations of the lesser gangs. When everything started to go to hell they could end up posing a considerable threat. The soldier was starting to wish there was a big red button he could just hit to vent the whole station and space everyone. Jester let out a heavy smoke filled sigh, things were only about to get more complicated.
|
Vyzion Eyri
The Southern Legion
Final Resolution.
2520
|
Posted - 2014.11.10 12:52:00 -
[104] - Quote
Clockwork Jester wrote:
GÇ£Hey Doc, remind me, which backwater Matari school certified you?GÇ¥
Vyzion thought for a moment.
"If there was one I'd tell you about it. All I know, I know from the Valklears, and let me tell you, they don't give a **** about medics. Flawless victory, they demanded. Flawless. No losses, no injuries, no questions." Vyzion stared at the pancakes, his appetite gone now, eyes gazing but not seeing.
"They didn't even give me a damn first-aid kit, you know. I watched people get their limbs shredded in firefights. They just fought on until death took them or they bled out after the battle was won, believing their glorious end would take them to the halls of their forefathers. That's what they say, anyway. One look at their eyes and I knew they were just abso-****-lutely afraid of being left behind."
He blinked and frowned, and then started speaking a little faster, a little more flustered, than usual. His street slang, usually buried under a clear pronunciation and wide vocabulary from his reading, became a little more prominent.
"But no, you're right. I ain't got a fancy piece of paper. No actual doctor to my name. What I got? Natural remedies, past experience and observation, experiments on myself and others, a **** tonna assumptions based on eve more reading is what certified me. If I walked into a hospital looking for work they'd walk me right into the insanity ward. Honey and saliva though, 'terestingly enough, I've found to be-"
Vyzion was, to his immense relief, cut off from speaking any further as Galm turned at that moment.
The contractor reeled off the plan with no regard for those around them who may have had a reason to listen to their group. Either he really trusted this pancake eatery or he knew it was too late to stop the plan now that it was being set in motion. Vyzion didn't really care at that point. He let the words flow over him, resetting his focus, calming him.
Galm Fae wrote:Are we all clear on what needs to get done.
Vyzion nodded and rose from his chair, picking up one of the remaining plates of pancakes as he did so. He strolled over by the counter and dropped his own notes on top of Wulver's payment, and proceeded to leave without a word, raising a hand in farewell without looking back.
Too much, he had said too much. He wasn't the only one who had to deal with the endless life and the endless memories that came with it. Memories were anchors, anchors that held you down as the days rolled by, making time feel more real than ever. Time had long since lost any meaning, could not be allowed to have meaning, for these immortals. They had to live in an eternal present, and if they forgot it, if they let themselves believe for a moment that things would change, that immortality was progress rather than stasis, freedom rather than purgatory... insanity came swiftly.
But still he had let himself wander down that path, the path of memories they all had locked away inside, sometimes partially open, whether by themselves or triggered by events. The path that was his life, before this... this... existence. He had never distinguished the two before. After waking coughing in a clone vat the hundredth or thousandth time, never related them again.
Vyzion slid another toothpick out of his pocket, and stuck it between his teeth, exhaling. He hoped the others didn't mind his abrupt departure. If they ever bothered working with him again they'd get used to it. Teamwork was a vital factor in the warzone and he respected and enjoyed it, but he was never one to revel in the company of others for long. Awkward was an understatement. He felt out of his depth around many other clone soldiers, green and fresh-faced amongst the others. Immortality or death at the age of 25... it was a no-brainer when he made the choice.
And yet today was one of the days he couldn't help but wonder how different the two options had been. Blast it all, the medic thought as he walked. Clockwork Jester makes a comment on my methods, and now I'm walking around like I've been abandoned in a wormhole, in a city with a vitality that rivals Caille no less. Too damn sensitive, Vyz, and they all know it.
> Quis custodiet ipsos custodes?
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True Adamance
Praetoriani Classiarii Templares
Praetoria Imperialis Excubitoris
14384
|
Posted - 2014.11.10 20:32:00 -
[105] - Quote
Clockwork Jester wrote:
GÇ£If the second round really is going to be a giant cluster **** you two altar boys might want to watch your backs.GÇ¥
Kador gave an indifferent shrug. As far as anyone on this station was aware, perhaps excluding Gabrac himself and his cronies, he was just an spoilt Amarrian Heir looking for a good time. Considering this he returned to drinking his coffee.
"HeGÇÖs sorry. ThatGÇÖs his sorry faceGǪ. Just keep quiet for now and maybe you'll get through this."
-Kador Ouryon
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Hunter Junko
Sebiestor Field Sappers
Minmatar Republic
306
|
Posted - 2014.11.15 23:50:00 -
[106] - Quote
Hya'salia watched as the conversations ranged from suprise, lively, then downhill it went when Vyzion took offense to Jester's remark of him being a Doctor.
"Smart move, Jester" Hya'salia muttered under her breath as Vyzion got up and stormed out of the diner, leaving behind the money to pay for the pancakes. but it was to be expected.
immortality under her observations, was power; it can turn the humble into the greedy, the wise into the fool, the sane into insanity.
her thoughts then turned to her dream last night, the one of the mother.
who was she?
she stopped halfway into her 7th plate, set the silverware to the side and took a sip from the coffee, her mind now on overdrive.
'what did immortality did to me?' she asked herself in silent contemplation.
her first memory of her first days as an immortal were blurry. a haze, a fog covering up the road of memory lane. but the first thing she remembered was the pain. oh yes the pain. it was everywhere, physically and mentally even though she didnt have a body to call her own, she could feel the bones creaking under her weight, like she spent years with the proverbial **** kicked out of her. her mind was thinking. thinking too much; the first days were nothing but paranoia, never asleep, always jumped at the first thing she could hear. her heart sped up when she felt an imaginary threat, so much that she couldn't bear to step outside, back into the world before her.
and then came the tears, the raw truth, and the fact she was no longer human.
she once read that capsuleers had to meet specific requirements in order to undergo the transformation into what they are now. she shrugged it off as something she could never do, she never intended to become an immortal. it felt out of place, out of mind.
but when her friend, Issac told her that a whole year of her life was gone, that she suddenly "could not die". that her original body was destroyed during the attack, that she simply broke down,crying for days. to took her a long time for her to accept that , going well past the battle of Caldari Prime.
she never wanted to be immortal, yet here she was..
'but you did alot of good while you were immortal, and you'll continue to do good so long as you have this drive; Little Hya'salia.' a voice replied from within the memory of conciousness.
she felt a tear forming under her eye, but she brushed it off before anyone noticed. then she stood up, and laid down a few isk notes to pay for her meals, as well as a tip for the waitress. before leaving she nodded to the others, especially Thal and said.
"well i'll see you at the arena" she said, and then she walked away
She hadn't expected Jester's words to sting so much, and she definitely didn't want them to see either |
True Adamance
Praetoriani Classiarii Templares
Praetoria Imperialis Excubitoris
14720
|
Posted - 2014.11.17 21:19:00 -
[107] - Quote
Galm Fae wrote:
"Good. Any of you need to load into a new body, I need you scouting the area and placing bombs. See what guard positions you can start to disable before strike tomorrow. Do it clean and quiet. No one can know we're here. Makoai is it? You do... Whatever it is you agreed to do. On top of that, I need eyes and ears inside the station. Marking targets, getting us reservations, and getting that wrist checked out. If your on our team then you might as well have a working arm. Are we all clear on what needs to get done."
The Amarrian listened to the briefing in silence, still sipping form the dark, murky liquid caffeine relishing its bitter taste and rejuvenating influence.
Despite the fact that he'd actually enjoyed himself, and one of his operations for the first time in a very long time, and despite the fact that he secretly felt no desire to be party to acts that would wreak havoc on the citizenry, he was unable to ignore the culmination of years of desert warfare.
Security forces strong points and barracks were already very apparent to him his eyes having picked up with relative ease where the uniformed security forces congregated at regular intervals throughout the day following their designated patrols or to have a smoke in peace. moreover Kador had identified several brothels and night clubs where he determined and disproportionate number of station personnel frequented which if required could be brought down quickly enough leaving few survivors.
Still the though sickened him.
Templar soldier were forged to serve God with iron will and to strike with impunity at his foes beneath the heavens..... they were not made to murder the innocent, even the godless and lost were not deserving on such ignominious death without first being offered the gifts of the Faith.
He drained the last dregs of his coffee as Vysion rose to leave and at the counter. Kador followed suit, nodding to Makoai to follow, who sprung up with a sudden gaiety wincing as he did so, thrilled to be leaving.
They approached the counter to pay, but the waitress just shook her head, mumbling something in Nanpali about the coffee being on the house after Makoai loudly mentioned he was a Pit Fighter about to enter his preliminary fights.
They followed Vysion swiftly as he cut his own path deeply lost in through. Eventually he seemed to break his own reverie, drawing a toothpick from his pocket and slipping it into what Kador assumed was an oddly familiar position.
"Doctor! Uh...Vysion!" He called out casually hailing the Gallentean with a sharp gesture. " Well met this morning.... I was wondering if I could ask a favour?"
"HeGÇÖs sorry. ThatGÇÖs his sorry faceGǪ. Just keep quiet for now and maybe you'll get through this."
-Kador Ouryon
|
Vyzion Eyri
The Southern Legion
Final Resolution.
2530
|
Posted - 2014.11.17 23:20:00 -
[108] - Quote
True Adamance wrote:
"Doctor! Uh...Vysion!" He called out casually hailing the Gallentean with a sharp gesture. " Well met this morning.... I was wondering if I could ask a favour?"
Vyzion turned, surprised. There stood Kador Ouryon with Makoai, the latter's hand still slathered in his 'natural remedy'. He stared at that dripping tissue for a moment, then turned back to the Templar, frowning slightly, toothpick pointing downwards.
The Templar asked for a favour. It was funny, that. You'd think favours between immortals would be swiftly forgotten. But no, they're remembered all the more compared to mortal favours. Their lives are too short to worry about getting even. Here, in the unending twilight realm of immortality, it was an eternity of seeking inner peace, inner balance.
A favour, something so trivial in their previous lives, something they could repay in an instant, with a gesture of good-will or a simple, free meal. It warped into something else when time lost all meaning, into a way to keep track of time. When did this guy ask me for a favour? How many days has it been since then? How many favours do I have currently? Significant events created a timeline of the past for the immortal, not dates, or day/night cycles, artificial or otherwise. And favours, they were like the numbers of the months. Small, insignificant, and yet sometimes they become so important it was incredible how they felt so humdrum before. Today could be someone's birthday; the day of the month suddenly becomes the focus of their entire being. So too, can a favour suddenly become as vital, if an immortal finds himself on a battlefield at risk of failing a contract that could make or break his career.
So they were remembered, and remembered well. The day where favours are traded became brighter, a pinprick of starlight in the eternal void of their lives which didn't seem to follow the normal flow of time but instead just expanded, and expanded, a dark seething bubble of blackness that consumed everything, leaving darkness behind. Favours gave light, gave form to this void.
Of course, there were different degrees of light. Some favours were certainly less critical than others, indeed, it could boil down to a free meal here and there. Ohers held more weight behind them, perhaps the disposal of a body. But when their lives extended into the unknown future, so far ahead of them they could not even consider the consideration of a possibility of knowing that far into the future, who knew when a single meal could enable a chain of events to be set in motion, events that could lead to the fall of empires.
He looked Templay Ouryon in the eyes and spoke between his teeth, keeping a firm clamp on his toothpick. "Sure. Fire away."
> Quis custodiet ipsos custodes?
|
Galm Fae
Eskola Ergonomics
350
|
Posted - 2014.11.22 07:13:00 -
[109] - Quote
Galm eyed the mercenaries one by one, each one doubtlessly suited to the task ahead of them. He wouldnGÇÖt have selected them otherwise. Granted, their individual skill and expertise was highly valued but above all he valued their sheer willingness as a collective to bring Snowfall crashing down. Thal was a Templar through and through, and he had already convinced Kador to see this mission through for better or worse. HyaGÇÖsalia was a troublesome case however. On one hand she seemed far more humane than her counterparts, a trait that could easily jeopardize the entire mission. On the other, she was easily manipulated and carried an air of fatalistic gloom that let Fae know she had already decided in her mind to comply with whatever was ordered of her. HeGÇÖd almost pity the woman, if he had the luxury to do so.
Noah was a separate beast entirely. He was experienced, and seemed to be better equipped to the pirate lifestyle than any of the soldiers there with the exception of maybe Fae himself. He was always so analytic, constantly calculating methods of taking control of a situation as soon as a problem presented itself and not a minute before it became opportune to do so. It was unsettling to observe, but had already proven its worth at least twice so far. The man had seen to GalmGÇÖs safety the night before, and proven his dedication when he executed Gansu. He was a valuable member to the team, but he wondered exactly how much of a loose end heGÇÖd play in the future.
Vyzion remained a mystery. He seemed a caring man, a trait that would be nothing but a hindrance once the bombs began to go off across the station. Still, he had volunteered willingly to have his own explosives placed inside his body. Fae occasionally saw the odd twitch the man gave, the minor neurotic behaviors that he found typical in a soldier who had GÇÿgone five-one-fourGÇÖ as empyreans often called it. Sooner or later every immortal soldier came to it. Where capsuleers so often suffered a gradual moral and emotional erosion overtime, GalmGÇÖs particular flavor of immortality was prone to sporadic fits of stress-induced dementia. While the muted insanity that has comrades seemed to experience were minor symptoms compared to the unexplained schizophrenic breakdown of first-generation soldiers, it was still enough to inherit the name from psychological evaluations from years past. The two soldiers shared a mutual bond of madness, and that was enough for Pixy to trust him to complete his assignment.
Pixy grunted in amusement at the thought, tossing a series of ISK chits onto the counter as he made his way out of the waffle house. He lifted his hat slightly as he pushed through the door, tipping at the mercenaries as he proceeded out the door. The walk through the streets of Snowfall seemed short in comparison to the rather lengthy and awkward breakfast. He paused at a street corner for a moment on the way there, nodding his head to the tune of a nearby street performer as she strummed away at her guitar. A damp cardboard sign written in running marker played out her woes as masterfully as the lyrics to the song that she shared with the inattentive masses. As he stood there, shelling out an obscene amount of chits to the stupefied woman Galm could only think back to his fellow soldiers.
He pondered silently why some went mad while others continued intact. Had some simply not reached that point yet? Where others just better at hiding it? Did the answer to either really change anything? Everyone in Snowfall used to have a particular image played up whenever someone said the name Pixy, but almost universally it had something to do with some doped-up-halfbreed-immortal-Dragonaur-wash-out doing gods-know-what to spirits-who-cares. It was hard trying to remember who he was then, and it frightened him that he may not be able to live up to the image of destruction that GÇ£PixyGÇ¥ (ironically enough) had become associated with. He had selected his team so carefully, but more than anything he was afraid heGÇÖd be the one to fail before anyone else.
Lost in thought, the remaining walk to The Pits was considerably shorter than he had anticipated. Before he had any time to truly steel himself, he found himself standing at the steps in front of a massive public gathering between corroded chain link fencing. Massive screens above displayed highlight reels from the evening before, flashing between several sets of familiar faces Galm at met at one point or another. In the distance, bass thundered through a series of drum beats as the opening evens began of the daily session.
WellGǪ Not that the games ever truly ended on Snowfall. If anything it was just one big long halftime as immortals took a momentary pause in the action to pull themselves together and blow the money that had just earned for yet another night of brawling. It was a charmed life, keeping you just entertained enough to ignore your own downward spiral of addiction.
Kirjuun! Uakan!
Teknikiara!
Kanpai kameitsamuu!
Ra ra ra!
> --Confirmed Badguy Cera YC116--
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Galm Fae
Eskola Ergonomics
350
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Posted - 2014.11.22 07:15:00 -
[110] - Quote
"**** hot!GÇ¥ an oddly jarring voice hollered above the crowd, GÇ£Is th--GǪ Yeah, yeah, thatGÇÖs Galm Fae! Hey guys, thatGÇÖs Galm! PixyGÇÖs here yGÇÖall!GÇ¥
Oh gods no. Please, no, anything but these annoying station rats.
There was a piecing shriek of five or six different voices, then a small mob of young women and wanna-be pirate flushed themselves out of the woodwork in a huge circle around the immortal.
No! No! Anything but station rats and groupies!
He began to sulk as more and more onlookers gathered around him, each hoping to snap a new picture of the man or get his attention in any way.
GÇ£Pixy! Pixy! You owe me 600 ISK *******! You were suppose to go ten rounds! Ten rounds!GÇ¥
GÇ£EyGÇÖer! Boy! YGÇÖgna fight today? MGÇÖlas aGÇÖhas thinGÇÖ for yaGÇÖ! YGÇÖwouldnGÇÖt mind if you shag GÇÿer while I watch? GÇÿEr idea! Not mine!GÇ¥
GÇ£What the hell kind of a name is Pixy anyway, eh?GÇ¥
GÇ£IGÇÖve heard all of these you unimaginative twats,GÇ¥ Galm spat, pushing through two or three different people before pausing momentarily, GÇ£EhGǪ Except the cuckold thing that wasGǪ Creative, IGÇÖll give you that.GÇ¥
He pressed on, plowing through several more sets of fans until one threw herself onto him as she clung to his shirt. He meant to deflect her off gently, but instead sent himself crashing to the ground with her on top of him. The two rolled around on the dirty concrete for some time has he kept squirming around to find a way out from under the clearly intoxicated spectator. The crowd continued to grow as he twisted and swore, before eventually dispersing as a crew of armed Guristas encircled the two. No less than three gunmen pulled the woman off the ground and escorted her away as another pulled the mercenary to his feet.
GÇ£Shite,GÇ¥ he barked through a tightly wrapped scarf below a set of dirty goggles, GÇ£Looked that that one cGÇÖanny keep her hands off yaGÇÖ, amGÇÖIGÇÖright?GÇ¥
GÇ£Yeah,GÇ¥ Pixy breathed, knocking the dirt off his jacket, GÇ£Sorry, weGÇÖve met before havenGÇÖt we?GÇ¥
GÇ£Aye. I checked you at the gate when your pet Templar had his little **** fit. Folks round here call me Charlie. IGÇÖve been assigned to your personal security detail, Grabarcs orders.GÇ¥
GÇ£Security detail?GÇ¥
GÇ£YesGÇÖsir,GÇ¥ he huffed with a nod, GÇ£Some damn poor bloke turned up dead in a nearby club last night. Boss wants to make sure that his lads are well taken care of seeinGÇÖ how dangerous the streets are.GÇ¥
GÇ£Sure, sure, now that IGÇÖm back on them.GÇ¥
GÇ£Well yeahGǪ But IGÇÖm being payed to pretend that I donGÇÖt know that and that I didnGÇÖt hear nothinGÇÖ from you just now. Now cGÇÖmon cowboy, we gotta get yGÇÖcleaned up for the first act. YouGÇÖre the opening act today.GÇ¥
Kirjuun! Uakan!
Teknikiara!
Kanpai kameitsamuu!
Ra ra ra!
> --Confirmed Badguy Cera YC116--
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Thal Vadam
Praetoriani Classiarii Templares
Praetoria Imperialis Excubitoris
41
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Posted - 2014.11.22 17:58:00 -
[111] - Quote
Thal placed his payment down on the table and got up from the booth. He nodded to the waitress and exited the dinner. The crowds were starting to move towards the arena, signaling the day's events were about to begin. Thal didn't have time to wade through the sea of people, so he walked behind the diner and looked up the very large building next to it. He leaped up and grabbed a hold of a very low hanging mantinince ladder and started to climb. As he climbed, his thoughts turned to Junko. She had such great potential as a fighter, an inherent spirit and strength he hadn't felt since he himself was learning the martial arts. He wanted to know more about her, and for him, that meant fighting her again.
Thal also thought about Galm Fae, the man leading the operation. Thal was determined to fight him, an immortal almost equal to himself in combat prowess. The two WOULD meet in battle oneday. If not on the station then somewhere else, but in Thal's mind the two were destined to fight.
Thal reached the top of the building, and saw the arena not to far away. He began jumping across the short gaps In between the structures. After a few minutes, he reached the arena and made the climb down. As he turned, he fell back in surprise at what he saw. Clara was standing there wide eyed and smiling at him.
"Hey there cutie" she said mischievously
"How do you keep finding me? Why are you here?" Thal asked her a little red in the face.
"Well, I know this station like the back of my hand, and it's not often I see a man jumping across the rooftops. As to why I'm here, well I came to watch my man fight"
Thal looked at her in astonishment. Who was she? What did she see in him? He was faltered someone cared for him so much, but he did not return her feelings.
She giggled "That's you silly" She walked up to Thal and wrapped her arms around him, and once again kissed him, this one more passionate then ever. She winked at him. "Good luck out there" She turned around and ran into the crowds. Thal stood there for a moment in confusion, but quickly shrugged it off and walked into the crowds, searching for Junko.
"I am your instrument my Lord, point me to the foes of our Empire." Thal's prayer after becoming a Immortal
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Hunter Junko
Sebiestor Field Sappers
Minmatar Republic
316
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Posted - 2014.12.01 05:56:00 -
[112] - Quote
after her break of her facade, she gathered to the arena once again. at the fighters pits.
'soon... soon its going to start' Hya'salia thought to herself as she sat there, arranging her hair back into a ponytail. earlier she had just taken another shower, as she could had a cathartic effect on her being. it helped, not by alot but it was enough for her to pull herself together. she wasnt too worried about others entering the fighter's preparations room, so she had taken advantage of that. if anyone came in well.. she would figure that one out when it happened.
she gathered her hair together and wrapped the small hairband around it, making the ponytail at last, as a drone came into the shower room with a folded pile of clothing.
"Hya'salia, your clothes have been clean and ready" it said, she turned and looked at it with a small nod.
"can you place it on my cot please?" she asked, to which the drone made a small chirp and turned around
"as you wish" |
True Adamance
Praetoriani Classiarii Templares
Praetoria Imperialis Excubitoris
15397
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Posted - 2014.12.03 22:00:00 -
[113] - Quote
Vyzion Eyri wrote:
He looked Templay Ouryon in the eyes and spoke between his teeth, keeping a firm clamp on his toothpick. "Sure. Fire away."
Kador let out a sigh of relief, which was echoed but the quietly sobbing Makoai behind him, still cradling his inflamed arm, valiantly trying to push back mewls at the pain colouring his ruddy face with a look of deep concentration. His expression was pathetic small tears rolled down the sides of his cheeks every time a jolt of pain ran down his arm, his sniffling punctuated by heavy breathing.
They'd stopped at the edge of what looked like an small dank alleyway between two tightly pressed together buildings, a canopy of steaming pipe works and industrial wiring stretched over them interwoven into a vast lattice, while below the filth of industrial run off mingled with condensation, and Fedo **** leaving a pungent scent to waft across the mouth of the alley and out onto the street.
He wrinkled his nose instinctively. Prior to arriving on Shoashu Sasaanko he doubted he'd ever smelt something quite for vile on a civilian station, even one so far removed from the Imperial Centre such as the Mandate or Devoid.
He carefully stepped around a river of the filth so as not to dirty his boots any more than they already were, grunting harshly as this exhorted a snigger out of Makoai, and approached their medic.
So far so good, he considered, was not expecting him to acquiesce so easily.
He propped himself up against the building wall, facing Vysion, leaning back into the reassuringly solid structure, appreciating how cool it was. As it was humbling himself before another one of his peers was not something Kador found easy to do.
"Makoai needs someone to look at his wrist. I can appreciate the Galm doesn't like the man.....that's fine..... but I need him on this one. Unlike the rest of you who can smuggle your stuff in easily I can't. To get what I need I need him willing to work for me." He explained quickly, stumbling over some of the words.
"Just for the record" the elderly Caldarian cut in, grunting painfully. " All you asked me to do was promote you..... y-y said nothin' bout no targets or fuckin' psychopath mercenaries.... so i-"
The Templar sucked in air testily, marvelling at how it whistles against his teeth and silenced the man instantly.
"You'd be a fool to think I was paying you what I am for nothing more than promoting. You'll do as I say, when I say, and get your reward when I deem that you have sufficiently carried out your duty. You do understand that word Makoai...duty...."
Makoai recoiled as if stung, an interesting mix of physical pain, emotional hurt, and indignation marring his face. He looked vulnerable. Kador capitalised on that and continued.
"If you don't I might take Galm's advice. So close your mouth, you will need all the charm you possess today. Don't bother wasting it on me."
He turned back to Vysion and shrugged. Calling Makaoi to heel was no more difficult than dealing with a finicky Slaver.
"So if you have time would you see to him? My matches begin soon and I believe he has work to do...besides.... regardless of whether or not like the man he is mortal and he did not deserve that."
I said, "Empress, I do this, I thought that you knew this.
Can't stand non-believers and honest, the truth is...
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Vyzion Eyri
The Southern Legion
Final Resolution.
2539
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Posted - 2014.12.08 05:35:00 -
[114] - Quote
Vyzion looked with apprehension at the Caldarian beside True, but then suddenly he grinned.
His jawbone creaked in protest as it stretched rapidly from ear-to-ear. It was a certainly a smile, yet it could've been described as an upside-down frown. His eyes were cold and emotionless, his face unreadable except for that strange smile, a disfiguration that ruptured his face, leaving a white, cracked crevice across it.
It was over in an instant. In that instant, everything clicked into place for the mercenary, and he knew exactly what had to be done.
"Sure, I'll take Makaoi."
With that, he grabbed the promoter by his injured hand, still soaked in honey, causing the man to yelp. Then he walked off towards the clinic, dragging the protesting Caldarian behind him. As he stormed through the concrete station, the crowds and faces seemed blurred to him. Things rushed through his head madly, thoughts scrabbling over one another, vying for the attention of his brain, words chased each other before his eyes, memories flashed.
Amidst the chaos in his head, though, there was a faint tune playing in his head, the same one he had sung in the clinic.
***
Vyzion stood outside the clinic, no longer holding onto Makaoi, not even aware of the other man's presence. He stared at the filthy clinic exterior... stared at the fresh graffiti on those walls... the holes that were windows... and the smoke pouring from them. Black, putrid smoke that rose like the trunk of a tree from hell, spreading into a wide plume as it reached the limits of the station dome.
Slowly, the medic walked towards the building. At the entrance, a crowd of people were watching, silent and unmoving. The whole street was silent, no noise came from anything, not even the clinic. The roar of the fire, it's crackling laugh, taunted Vyzion.
He walked past the spectators, straight up to the front door, and opened it.
The inferno inside blasted him, hot as a furnace, but he walked in nevertheless. His eyes saw it all, from the burning mattresses, to the burnt and charred corpses on top of them. Not one patient had managed to escape. He counted them all as he walked down the center aisle between the beds, just like he had counted each one the previous night. He saw through the burns of some, saw bruises that were not there before.
He bent over and picked up a few ends of burning rope. Rope that had not been in the clinic before. They were sticky to the touch. Some sort of flammable compound, the medic guessed. He clenched his fists. Defenseless. They were defenseless.
He reached the back of the room and walked upstairs, following the smoke. The door was smashed open, and hung on a single hinge, broken. He approached the temperature regulator now, and calmly studying its functions as the smoke swirled around him. There was a pressure adjuster just as he had expected. This upstairs room was a quarantine area to isolate patients in dangerous states or have contagious diseases. He turned the pressure far into the negative range. An exhaust fan above his head hummed to life as he dragged the door back into place, and sealed the gaps around it with lab coats.
The smoke cleared, and Vyzion stared at the scene before him. The room was as destroyed as always, and there were no signs of the fire reaching this area yet. However, there was one grisly addition. Leena lay on the floor in the center of the room, naked and beaten. He walked over and gingerly checked her pulse. It was gone; her pale face suggested she died unable to breathe through the smoke. She had, he also noted, been sexually violated.
He grit his teeth in anger, crushing the toothpick in his mouth into a fine powder, mushing it into a paste with his teeth. Then he spat the mixture into his hands, and applied death marks to the woman's still face, something a Vherokior mystic he once knew told him would guide the deceased's spirit to their ancestors.
As he worked he noticed Leena had fallen with both arms outstretched. He glanced to where she had been reaching: an open cupboard. The medic got up, walked over to it, reached out a hand... and opened it. Lying at the base was Ritae, curled in a ball, almost as still as the other. The medic put a hand on her shoulder and shook slightly. The girl opened her eyes... and screamed when she saw his face inches from hers, throwing herself against the back of the cupboard. Vyzion backed off, hands raised.
"It's me," he coughed. "It's me."
***
Makaoi's jaw dropped when he saw Vyzion walk out again with a girl slung over his back. The mercenary's clothes had been badly burnt and hung in tatters on him; the only sign he was wearing a lab coat before were patches of white cloth on his shoulders. His hair was charred, and his eyebrows were singed. His exposed skin was red and raw and in some parts, crisp. His hands dripped with some strange paste. The girl looked to be in a much better condition, but was coughing up blood, thin wisps of smoke escaping from her lungs as she did.
The curious thing was that despite the fire burning behind Vyzion, Makaoi could not turn his eyes away from the mercenary... and the fire in his eyes.
Vyzion walked until he was right next to Makaoi, and spoke softly. "You're going to take this girl and return home. You're going to stay there until I come for you. Understand?"
"What the h-"
"Do you have a family?"
"Why does th-"
"DO YOU HAVE A FAMILY?!" Vyzion turned his bloodshot eyes onto Makaoi.
"Yes..." The man replied haplessly.
"Then for their sake, follow my instructions."
As the Caldarian hurried off, Vyzion turned back to the clinic as the fire finished off the mattresses and extinguished itself. He watched until the last curls of smoke escaped from the windows. Then he went back inside.
> Quis custodiet ipsos custodes?
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Galm Fae
Eskola Ergonomics
353
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Posted - 2014.12.10 07:54:00 -
[115] - Quote
The staging area was perhaps one of the only remaining areas of Snowfall that clung to its heritage as a formal Caldari outpost. The zone was forged of cold steel, cutting away into a series of corridors and passageways that lead between armories, medbays, and aging barracks used to accommodate soldiers in between brief, violent skirmishes in front of the masses. The deep, heavy bass from outside of the compound still resonated through the building though it was muffled with a certain solemn atmosphere. As Pixy weaved through the passages with his armed escorts he occasional made eye contact with one or two fighters before breaking away and moving along. All of them remained tense, though not all of them displayed that fact in the same fashion. Some puffed madly at ridiculous amounts of cigarettes as others cranked out endless repetitions of calisthenic workouts before their next match. The crowd of gladiators parted and flowed around Charlie and his mercenaries as Galm drew closer to the heart of the facility. Fae grinned for a brief moment, unsure if his competition was sizing him up or merely confirming what they were seeing unfold.
"I'm guessing not everyone gets their own escort service?" Pixy ventured, sliding around a corner and finally coming to a stop in a small personal locker room. Charlie scoffed, slamming the door shut behind them as he set down his weapon and began to unroll his scarf.
"Mate, words getting around that the Pixy is back in town. Some folks seem to think you made Grabarc pretty nervous with that whole display going through customs yesterday."
"You think escorting me in with five Guristas is going to defuse that tension?"
The four other guards laughed among themselves, exchanging dirty looks as they all eyed the immortal before them.
"The opposite," Charlie corrected, "We want to make you look like a mad dog that Grabarc can turn lose whenever he needs. It's good for the show, good for profits, and when you win all of this and have a grand time celebrating with all the toasts of the town it's going to look good for Zipang too. We're giving you a roll, and he expects you to play it. You need to be damn savage out there."
Galm nodded his head, pondering the implications as Charlie removed the last of his headgear. The man was of ambiguous ethnicity, with multiple odd runic symbols branded into fleshy neck. His face, while marvelously chiseled, bore more than a fair amount scar tissue that seemed to hold his handsome features together. He slung his submachine gun over his shoulder and let it hang there once more, the lime green paint scheme standing out against the greyscale barracks.
"It's like this," Charlie continued, pointing his gun for emphasis, "That surge out there? All those immortals looking at you? Some might have seen that as them smelling blood in the water. You know what I saw out there Caldari? I saw a mako coming, and all the little fish keeping their distance but eager to see which one of them you swallow up first."
The analogy had a certain charm, forcing the soldier to nod his head slightly before nodding slowly. From there, Galm began the process of readying himself. Sinking back into his warm-up routine was easy, even with the multiple guards keeping close tabs on every little movement he made. Before stripping down, he carefully tucked his bomb vest away in a locker and sealed it away behind biometric padlock. It was difficult to steady his breath long enough to avoid suspicion as he locked the explosives away and began to change into a set of close provided by Grabarc's men. His thoughts lingered on it as he pulled the shirt over his head, contemplating if the locker would contain enough oxygen to ignite the congealed incendiaries. As long as the inital ignition was powerful enough it would easy have the explosive and thermal potential to rip through every corner of the empyrian bunker beneath the pits by spreading through ventilation systems and corridors. Once the weapon achieved enough energy to initiate an omnidirectional thermal pulse, there wouldn't be much stopping the bloody thing.
A sharp pain stabbed into Fae's forearm, causing him to shake it off violently and send one of the guards stumbling to the floor with a hypodermic needle.
"Charlie, what the ****? What did he just inject in me?"
"Be cool, be cool Caldari," he laughed, signaling his men not to raise their weapons, "Just a little something to take the edge off. Figured you needed it. A bit o' nanites, bit o' biofoam, tiny bit of Crash... S'all good, eh?"
"No, not s'all good you little roach!" Fae barked, "The hell kind of back-planet indigenous shithole did you climb out of to think that's custom!"
"Gotta come from somewhere mate," the tribal laughed, "I can damn well tell you the Guristas gave me a better life than the State woulda, so just lighten up a bit and let me do my job. Grabarc wants you to have an edge out there."
The thought finally occured to Galm that Charlie was no 'Charlie' at all. There were plenty of rumors about men like him across the cluster, of native populations displaced by Caldari corporate expansion in the wake of heavy industry. Those that weren't crush by bulldozers trying to defend their homeland usually ended up finding a life wherever they could, often at the cost of their own cultural identity. That being said, 'Charlie' still seemed like a pretty **** poor name to settle on if he wanted help fitting in with a bunch of Caldari pirates. The two stood there momentarily at a standoff before a buzz on the Gurista's datapad.
"Shite," he groaned, flicking through his messages once he pulled it from his pocket, "Me and my boys need to leave for a bit, something about trouble at the hospital. Think you can handle yourself for a bit?"
"Oh, I think I can manage."
Kirjuun! Uakan!
Teknikiara!
Kanpai kameitsamuu!
Ra ra ra!
> --Confirmed Badguy Cera YC116--
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True Adamance
Praetoriani Classiarii Templares
Praetoria Imperialis Excubitoris
16203
|
Posted - 2014.12.22 04:49:00 -
[116] - Quote
Reserved
*"He spoke, and we made it so all worlds were one, all peoples were one, all faiths, creeds, and nationalities were one.
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Galm Fae
Eskola Ergonomics
362
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Posted - 2015.02.01 08:06:00 -
[117] - Quote
The walkway was a dangerous place to be. Between the thundering applause and the flash of the lights all of your inner resolve was washed out, leaving nothing but the physical character left to play for the masses. Galm enjoyed his last few seconds of silence in the darkened staging area before the doors swung open before him, giving way to a walkway rising above a pit of cheering spectators. The heat lamps snapped to him as a series of strobes fired off like neurons one after the other down the line. Galm took a deep breath and ran his hair to one side as he pressed forward into the storm. He cast his gaze blindly through the crowd, his vision incapable of adjusting to match the eyes of those staring back at him. He paused for a moment, staring at the image of himself on the overhead projector as the sound system began blasting the opening bars of a familiar but distant song. His Templis Dragonaur tattoo was still etched into his tight core, and the cauterized branding of the Guitarists emblem sat on his left shoulder. The announcer began to thunder over the microphone as meaningless stats began to roll down the screen one after the other, all pertaining to his past life and victories.
"Ladies and gentle,for the first time this fighting season we are gathered here to see Galm 'Pixy' Fae in the gladiator pits. The last time Fae was here the pits were little more than a side project to keep the surge of immortal refugees busy, but few doubt that the man we are about to watch here today was esential in building the sport to what it is now."
Galm snorted at the thought, pulling himself into the arena and slamming his body against the corner as sweat began to pour down his face. The music had become deafening, pouring into his soul with every riff. It was dirty, grungy bass pumped punk rock that brought back more than a few memories that, while under normal circumstances would have been uncomfortable to uncover, felt oddly liberating to let break free for a moment. His chest rose and fell rapidly as his breathing synchronized with the rhythm, silently recalling the lyrics. Just as the acoustic bass began to morph into an electric synth, Galm's first challenger made his way in the stadium
The man had a pension for flare, with a mouth full of tasteless gold teeth and several large chains that circled around his throat. As another score of fans thundered in approval he threw his arms madly into the air, barking like an animal as he drew closer. His camouflaged cargo pants dangled lazily around his waist, a set of useless suspenders dragged helplessly behind him. The announcer began to speak again, the surround music taking on a different tone entirely.
"And now for our second competitor mister Alec Wynn. Affectionately named 'Warlock' for his talents, it looks like Fae might have his work cut out for him. I've heard a lot of people around the station question if Pixy has what it takes to clash with figures like Warlock in a modern death match. Back in Pixy's day there were was less structure but fewer established tactics that modern fighters know of. Warlocks speed will certain be one of those critical x-factors that will prove whether or not Galm has still has the ability to adapt and become a true player in our current tournament matches."
The banter was mildly concerning but thankful whatever context they bore were lost on Pixy. Fighting was fighting, and he had little doubt that much could change in only a handful of years. When the bell finally rang however, it all became abundantly clear that something was amiss. Warlock lashed out immediately, body slamming into Fae before following up with a series of overly dramatic windmill punches. Pixy flinched at first, coiling back into the ropes totally bewildered as he tried to compute just exactly what the hell Wynn was trying to do. Pixy pushed back lightly, if only to eliminate as much skin contact with the man as he could as each windmill punch landed heavily on his laterals. Pulling back from the shove, Warlock began a series of ducks and weaves as his hand moved in a series of confusing patterns that more closely resembled a street performer than a trained pit fighter.
"What am I even looking at!?" Galm shouted in frustration just before a punch glanced across his jaw.
"S'why I'm the Warlock man!" Wynn hollered, releasing another volley of blows across Pixy's collar, "I've got the magic hands! What, no one ever show you this in the p--"
The pit gave a collective gasp as Pixy grinned his teeth together and threw his head forward to make direct contact Wynn's nose. As the man began to fly backwards Fae grabbed hold of his gold chain, pulling him back in for yet another headbutt in exactly the same location. The man fell backwards again before Galm pulled him back in one last time, taking a large bite out of Warlock's ear and letting him stumble back center stage. The entire scene took maybe five seconds, counting a short two second pause were Pixy stood there casually with the ear hanging from his lips before spitting it in the general direction of the 'splatter zone.' He heard the distant sound of a single man vomit, then the confused commentary of the referee.
"It... Would appear that Pixy has just eaten a part of Warlock's ear. While certainly not unheard of in the context of a battle to the death this is rather... Unorthodox."
Warlock rose to his feet, slightly unsteady as he looked Galm square in the eye.
"You batshit crazy ************! What even are you! Who the hell does that! I'm trying to put on a gods damn show here for my fans!"
Several minutes later what was left of Wynn was lying in a broken heap, the scent of his blood filling the room as spectators took care to harvest possible 'souvenirs' that Pixy had left behind. It may have been his first match, but word was already being to spread that the Dragonaur had returned.
Kirjuun! Uakan!
Teknikiara!
Kanpai kameitsamuu!
Ra ra ra!
> --Confirmed Badguy Cera YC116--
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True Adamance
Praetoriani Classiarii Templares
Praetoria Imperialis Excubitoris
16916
|
Posted - 2015.02.02 00:19:00 -
[118] - Quote
Kador revelled in the sense of freedom he felt as Vysion led the fat Caldari man away towards the medical wards. It was an exquisite thing he considered passing between the overhanging eaves of a squalid looking street composed entirely of rusted steel girders ignoring the slight squelch his boots made as he crossed a large puddle of industrial run off.
Prevising their GÇ£doctorGÇ¥ could see to the ageing man he might even be able to hold up his end of their business transaction before the preliminary rounds of the contest, perhaps even giving Kador enough pull with those in charge of the event to requisition a docking pass for his assets.
Kador took on a purposeful stride, making his way swiftly towards the Pit using the most direct methods he knew from the short time he had spent on the station, pushing his way between the pedestrians offing low grunts of admission if he disturbed them.
As before he was struck again by a certain dissonance as masses of paying customers packed into the lines to watch men and women beat each other to death in violent contests of strength. The concept was so foreign to him, yet similar to other things he understood about his own people, yet was senseless and turned to the sake of entertainment and sport.
He ignored the line, pressing his way forwards ignoring cries of displeasure of the seething lines, and though into the Pit where upon he was immediately confronted by two of GabracGÇÖs thugs, one who looked to be the fattest, and least intelligent human being Kador had ever come across, and the other the sleazy looking bastard from the night before.
Before the Amarrian could say a word the fat one wrapped his thick fingers around his neck and roughly shoved him towards the exit as the other cackled roughly.
GÇ£Leave the poor bastard alone BruteGǪ.heGǪ.ahahaGǪheGÇÖs got a date in the Pits with the other.GÇ¥ He straightened abruptly into an overly dramatic bow. GÇ£But this oneGÇÖs off limits Brute olGÇÖbuddy one of them lordly, self-righteous, overly frustrated types yGÇÖknow. Put GÇÿim down.GÇ¥
The one called Brute did as he was told with a grunt of disappointment then oddly bowed his head with a genuine, albeit simple, respect that didnGÇÖt really understand what was going one.
Kador stood back up, rubbing at his neck where the other man had held him in a vice like grip, grimacing and breathing heavily.
GǣThanksGǪ.. I guess. Which way to thGǪ..Gǥ
GÇ£You get an ass last night Lordship?GÇ¥ The sleazy thug cut him off with a knowing grin, forming a circle with his finger and moving the index finger of his other hand in a rude manner. GÇ£Since you turned down GabracGÇÖs off I assumed you found that even the flop houses have GÇÿhoresGǪGǪ just wonderinGÇÖ if you got that stick out yerGÇÖ arse?GÇ¥
GÇ£**** off.GÇ¥ Kador, sternly this time. GÇ¥Just tell me where the pox ridden changing rooms are.GÇ¥
The sleazy bastard just shrugged, unwilling to talk and altogether amused greatly by the situation and KadorGÇÖs sour disposition, however his partner simply pointed off down one of the halls opposite where the crowds were entering.
He nodded his thanks and made for the gate passing into one of the halls and following directions down into the changing rooms.
He eyed competitors warily as he entered, passing between all manner of scum, psychopath, and desperate gutter trash, grabbed a small pack out of a locker with his name on it, and took a seat by himself in a small alcove by the filthy showers. as he passed by he could not help but notice the sheer number of tattooGÇÖs many of them wore, most on the arms and face, one even had full body tattooGÇÖs covering the GÇ£entiretyGÇ¥ of his exposed skin.
He changed into the contents of the pack without question, a pair of capped boots, a tight fitting sleeveless shirt, and some simple mid length cargo pants with the loops and pockets removed as if some old Caldari bastard hadnGÇÖt had time and used a pocket knife.
It hand become immediately apparent his own clothing would be more a hindrance than anything else, and quite frankly was sick of the lack of respect it cultured.
The roar of the crowds was definitely audible from the changing rooms. It rose in climax every now and then punctuated by undulating gasps and chants from the blood hungry spectators.
It wasnGÇÖt long before his own turn came and his world became a blur of light and noise.
If someone had drugged him Kador didnGÇÖt know when, or where, or howGǪ.but under the heavy glare of the arenaGÇÖs lighting he was already slick with sweat and his shirt stuck to him in an unpleasant manner, the zip almost half undone by his heavy breaths.
He remembers the roar of the crowd as the last match was finished, he also remembered seeing Galm dripping blood from his mouth matching the hellish glow of his augmented red eyes, he also remembered seeing what he thought might have been a man once, now spread across the floor of the Pit leaving him to trail bloody foot prints up and into the ring.
All around was a crush of people, jostling and vying for the best viewing position of the inevitable death that was about to occur.
Their mewling was maddening to the Amarrian. He could smell the violence in the airGǪand to him it smelt of blood and decay.
"This is the Usumgal boy, the exalted dragon, wreathed in the fires of heaven. He is a true symbol of God's majesty."
|
True Adamance
Praetoriani Classiarii Templares
Praetoria Imperialis Excubitoris
16916
|
Posted - 2015.02.02 00:20:00 -
[119] - Quote
A relative new comer to the scene our first competitor is a mystery with no known wins in any of the circuitsGǪ.. HeGÇÖs a definite underdog in this competition but if the resurgence of our other Amarrian competitors is anything to judge by we may have a real fight on our hands. Will we have a second qualified from the Throne Worlds? HeeeeeeereeeeeeeGÇÖs the Hound [term that refers to Slaver Hounds]!
Kador snorted with derision as they announced him, following the guidance of the ring side attendants, marvelling at the scale of the Pits and the overwhelming resonance of the crowd in the converted cargo hangar. So much for Desert Rat, he thought ironically, wholly understanding MakaoiGÇÖs angle on this one. The name wouldnGÇÖt have soldGǪ.but the man had done his job. It was fitting.
He kicked aside a lonely tooth as he was roughly shoved into the arena as the announcers continued to introduce his opponent.
Coming to us today with six kills, nine knock outs, and no yields from last season is Kisamaru GÇ£RaijuGÇ¥ Yagame riding on his recent successes in the unofficial circuits and victory in last monthGÇÖs minor league invitational he hopes to launch himself into spot light in his first major competition. Named for his unique full body designs heGÇÖs certainly been one weGÇÖve talked about in the past.
For a moment nothing happened. The crowd quieted down a bit as his opponent entered the arena from the far side. He was tall, well built, lithe, and most of all dangerous.
However this was all secondary to the artwork that adorned his body.
His face was a snarling, hellish visage of a heathen spirit completed with curling horns that extended up onto his scalp, curved teeth, a flowing mane extending down his neck.
This continued down onto his torso where conflicting images of serene mountain landscapes became juxtaposed between other scenes of brutality and violence, while his arms and legs continued the animalistic features of the Raiju.
As the cameras and visual displays focused on this designs audience burst into a roar of approval.
((plz don't crucify me for the lack of originality..... I need a momment tor revise and do a laguage check))
"This is the Usumgal boy, the exalted dragon, wreathed in the fires of heaven. He is a true symbol of God's majesty."
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Hunter Junko
Sebiestor Field Sappers
Minmatar Republic
336
|
Posted - 2015.02.02 16:25:00 -
[120] - Quote
it was the roar that caught her attention. the T.V on display lit up and on it she saw a grusome sight.
Galm, breaking every bone in his opponents body, ripping out chains right up to the part with thee ear thing. for a whole minute she watched his fight come and go, with a suprised look on her face.
'this is the guy who just hours ago invited us for pancakes and coffee.... with heart symbols on his messages' Hya'salia pondered, going back to the message on her wristcomp. it was indeed galm who sent it. she threw on her clothes, grabbed her vest and dashed out towards the arena. flying up the stair into the spectator seats, she made her way towards the front of the stands, grabbing onto the railing as she she Galm leaving the pits.
"damn.." she said to herself as the broken body of galm's opponent wasquickly picked up and disposed of, clearing he way for the next fight.
and there. out in the open with rough hand-me-downs for clothing, ripped cargo pants and a simple sleeveless shirt...
was adamance. by comparison to thal, adamance had tried. Tried, to adjust to societal norms laid out for the pits, if there were any. whereas thal had fought with his adorned clothing.
silently she took out her wrist comp, fumbled with a switch to the side, and inside was a micro-drone.
it activated in a series of chirps, assembling itself in her hand.
"Orbit pattern-arena" she saide and drone flew off, her wrist comp opened a holo-display, and she began to hit record.
"Satja is going to absolutely love this" she grinned in a mischievous fashion.
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Thal Vadam
Praetoriani Classiarii Templares
Praetoria Imperialis Excubitoris
60
|
Posted - 2015.02.02 17:18:00 -
[121] - Quote
Thal stood atop one of the VIP boxes atop the arena, watching the fights below. He had decided to climb up there so he could separate himself from the grime and vulgarity of the massive crowd of people.
His robes blew in the simulated wind as he watched Galm leave the arena. Thal could only think of one word to describe Galm's fight...
"Disgusting" he said aloud
Galm fought like an animal, a feral beast...and Thal thought it tasteless. He had no idea how to react to it. To Thal, there was a difference between fighting and killing. It seemed like Galm saw no such distinction.
The crowd was worse, cheering like Galm was a hero. These men and woman were vile, the worst humanity had to offer. They pleasured themselves on death and blood, they cheer to an animal like he is some kind of Demi-God. He found it comical really, there was no honor among these people.
From atop his perch above the arena, he spied Junko as she deployed some kind of drone. It looked at him a moment and he waved. He turned back down to the Arena and chuckled at what he saw. Young Master Kador had stepped into the arena, dressed in an outfit relatively similar to that of the crowd. His opponent looked no less distinguished, just another brute. He was scheduled to fight after Kador, and while he looked forward to it...he was curious how the tank pilot would handle himself.
"I am your instrument my Lord, point me to the foes of our Empire." Thal's prayer after becoming a Immortal
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True Adamance
Praetoriani Classiarii Templares
Praetoria Imperialis Excubitoris
16976
|
Posted - 2015.02.04 02:58:00 -
[122] - Quote
Beneath the heavy glare of the PitGÇÖs many overhead high beams the air Kador breathed was a turbid mix of sweat, smoke, and a tangible bloodlust coalesced into a rich scent of decay that filled the lungs and gave him the unpleasant sensation of drowning.
He hunkered down, steadying himself in the ring, quickly taking stock of the surroundings, as featureless as they were save for the blood stains and occasions stretch of barbed wire coiled around the ropes.
A buzzing sound distracted him for a moment, a small camera drone hovered just out of his reach panning around him, its cyclopean optical assembly dart rapidly from place to place in pre-programmed motions capturing images of the arena, the crowd, and the combatants.
As its focus flicked back to him he returned its gaze with a disapproving glare of his own before the tiny thing floated off into the riot of noise and light.
Beyond the first rows of seats, towards the back of the viewing areas he could, to his surprise, see through the louring murk a green neon sign that read GÇ£DonGÇÖt die too quickly Kal!GÇ¥ held aloft by a small group of indistinguishable shapes.
His opponent, who had taken a knee in the opposite corner rose now, trotting across the ring as glinted off a pair of protective metal caps at his knees, something heGÇÖd not noticed before.
He jogged over offering Kador and arm up before the match started.
The gesture of sportsmanship completely took Kador aback and without thinking the scenario through he instinctively reached out for the manGÇÖs tattooed hand grasping it firmly with his dominant arm.
RaijuGÇÖs attack was too fast for Kador to see, he pulled down on KadorGÇÖs fore arm as his steel capped knee lancing up to strike at the Amarrian fighters face. It impacted sharply with his jaw and flooring the Templar in a single blow, a long arc of blood trailing from his lips.
He crumpled, visibly concussed, convulsing as the crowds roar reached its fevered pitch and as his opponent ruthlessly laid a pair of kicks into his gut and groin.
Suddenly KadorGÇÖs foot shot out in a swift arc, catching both of the CaldarianGÇÖs legs and sweeping him to the floor allowing him time to rise groggily from the floor and slip into the stances heGÇÖd be trained in, locking his elbows in tightly to his core, keeping his feet wide, and head down.
This opponent rose with all the graces of a pit fighter, slamming a fist angrily into the floor roaring with anger and rushed the Amarrian in another series of blows, trying to find purchase in KadorGÇÖs guard.
The Amarrian held firm turning aside the blows with simple side steps and flicks of the wrist attempting to grapple with the smaller man. His opponent was all ferocity, no technique or control, much like Kador himself relying all on a constant barrage of attacks to put his opponent on the back foot.
He recognised the danger of the manGÇÖs kicks, his lower body strength was incredible and the steel caps on his knees and boots only served to accentuate the damage theyGÇÖd naturally do.
A nasty series of abdominal punches managed to sneak through his guard and Kador silently thanked his own foresight in having built up his muscles rather than focusing on learning techniques as the punches barely slowed him down.
He reversed a blow to the head striking out with his own elbow aiming for the other manGÇÖs jaw with the intent to break it, however his opponent slipped away suffering a grazing wound to the shoulder.
KadorGÇÖs blood was up. It felt wonderful to be unrestrained, to be angry for no reason at all. His opponent would bleed for his, heGÇÖd die for making a fool of himGǪ. and Kador realised here he didnGÇÖt have to feel ashamed of that.
Another blow hammered him across his jaw loosening his teeth forcing him back into the ropes where a thin section of barbed wire cut into his back drawing a thick line of blood.
Each concurrent attack forced the barbs deeper and cut more jaggedly sending thick rivulets of hot blood along his back.
He slipped into a cold rage, head butting the Caldari back, throwing his shoulder into the incoming counter blow snapping the tattooed manGÇÖs wrist with a resounding crack.
Raiju stumbled back in pain, clutching at his broken wrist, causing the demonic tattoo on his face to appear to snarl, his own eyes now looking fearful.
Kador rushed him blindly pouring all of his anger and hate of man into a vicious lariat that carried Raiju to the floor, pulping the flesh with blood trailing from his nose and mouth.
The crowd quieted as a single combined breath was withheld before the climax.
"This is the Usumgal boy, the exalted dragon, wreathed in the fires of heaven. He is a true symbol of God's majesty."
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True Adamance
Praetoriani Classiarii Templares
Praetoria Imperialis Excubitoris
16976
|
Posted - 2015.02.04 02:59:00 -
[123] - Quote
The Amarrian knew what came next. It would dictate his reception by the crowd, could earn him what he needed from Gabrac.
The Caldari rose sluggishly, his dominant right arm hanging limply by his side, the other clutching at his neck as he spat blood from between bloodied lips.
Gǣ*******GǪ. *****sonGǪ..Gǥ He croaked venomously.
Kador surprised himself with his own reaction lashing out in succession at the manGÇÖs abdominals and groin throwing Raiju off balance and leaving him choking on his own blood.
Before the dazed Caldari could he lashed out again wedging two fingers in the Caldari's mouth, the palm of the other hand on the back of his head, and cast his head down at the floor with all his might in a brutal neck drop.
For a moment the Caldarian defied gravity, looking stunned as his body pivoted on his central axis in an instant, before he slammed into the ground, his neck snapping loudly in an unnatural direction.
Broken Raiju barely resembled the man heGÇÖd been at the start of the fight. He was no longer a predator, the tattooed beast no longer seemed to snarl, and his skin beneath the designs was pallid.
He let out a long sigh and felt the satisfaction of the victory roll over him. His jaw was awash with pain and though his body aches the endorphin rush rapidly curbed the worst of it. He spat out a thick globule of blood and wasnGÇÖt surprised to see the shattered fragments of a tooth in the syrupy mix by his boot.
GǪ.ThatGÇÖs it! THAT IS IT!... Our underdogGǪ. HasGǪ Won! In an unexpected turn of events Hound reversed the tables on the match favourite and brought the expectations of his fan base crashing down around them. All brawn and no graces, our Hound might just be a contestant to watch down the roadGǪ.no doubt those heGÇÖs made himself some fans.
"This is the Usumgal boy, the exalted dragon, wreathed in the fires of heaven. He is a true symbol of God's majesty."
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Thal Vadam
Praetoriani Classiarii Templares
Praetoria Imperialis Excubitoris
60
|
Posted - 2015.02.04 04:39:00 -
[124] - Quote
Thal watched Kador's fight with the look of a teacher examining a student during a test. Thal didn't expect Kador to impress him, nor did he think Kador really cared what his opinion was...but Thal was disappointed. Kador had always presented himself very well outside this environment, acting with near perfect form and function. However, something about this place was changing the man. Kador had beaten his foe without mercy, in an effort to make his death painful. There was no style, no purpose.
Thal's robes continued to blow in the wind, his from appearing a dark shadow to those who could see him. He reached into his robes and felt the chain around his neck and the gold ring on the chain's end. He heard a footstep behind him.
"Please go, I don't want to keep seeing you"
The voice of Clara responded "Why?"
"Because you are temptation, and I will resist"
"Thal...I love you..."
"No, you don't. You want sex, you want a good time, you want to satisfy yourself, and frankly it's disgusting"
She didn't say anything, she just stood there looking at him
"There is someone for you out there, but it isn't me. My heart belongs to another, and I am bound to that."
Thal heard a click and turned. Clara looked angry, was crying, and she had a flaylock pistol
"W-who is she?"
"Clara, put it down"
She just stood there with the gun. Thal moved slowly towards her, and then she blinked. Thal slapped the gun out of her hand and grabbed her by the neck
"Stop chasing me, you need to go live your own life"
And with that, Thal knocked her out. He decided to leave her up there, she would be safe and could find her way. Thal felt the ring one more time before making his climb down.
It was his turn to enter the battle, and he was ready. He walked down the arena halls toward the entrance to the pit itself, still dressed in his robes. A young Caldari man walked beside him
"Hey mate, what's your pit name"
Thal thought a moment
"...Archangel"
The Caldari man took down the name and walked off. Thal was going to get through this and come out Amarr, it was time he let the world know that.
He took a seat and readied himself for the call.
"I am your instrument my Lord, point me to the foes of our Empire." Thal's prayer after becoming a Immortal
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Hunter Junko
Sebiestor Field Sappers
Minmatar Republic
340
|
Posted - 2015.02.04 05:28:00 -
[125] - Quote
Every second was a second in a surprising feeling of awe as hya'salia's micro-drone recorded the fight, up until the moment adamance brought the man down in a vicious neck-drop. the snapping of the bones reverted all throughout the arena.
Hya'salia was fortunate to turn away as Raiju died, recalling her drone and putting her wristcomp to sleep. she now knew the kind of man adamance was.
he was a warrior. so is thal, so was galm.
and then her wristcomp beeped. she down at it, and saw the upcoming notice for the next round of fights
Thal was thankfully, not her opponent. knowing this she breathed out a small sigh of relief, and then decided to visit the pit entrances, so she walked down the stairs towards the upper preparation rooms. there , waiting for his next fight, was Thal. he had been sitting there with somewhat of a hard look to him, though having just seen someone die in front of them was no small matter. she mused that something else had been amiss and decided not to press the issue.
'maybe he's nervous?' she thought to herself, that was when she decided then and there to do a crazy thing and gave the man a quick slap to the shoulders in a friendly manner
"so, the next round of fights now huh?" she said in her usual attitude; nonchalant and mischevious. she took a seat in the benches across from thal, and adjusted her ponytail a bit before looking at the Amarrian.
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Galm Fae
Eskola Ergonomics
373
|
Posted - 2015.02.04 06:31:00 -
[126] - Quote
Galm stood in the lockers for some time, panting and vomiting into a small drainpipe in the floor. His hand shook violently as he stood there, lost in this own adrenaline rush. The twisting behind his face was worse now than it had been before as unseen tendrils of thought began to crawl underneath his skin, probing different parts of his psyche before taking root and forming a direct connection in his brain. Pixy doubled over, gripping his chest as a series of new memories washed over him from the Seituoda. As he rose he finally took note of his arms, covered in gossamer blood up to his elbows and wrapped in an equally bloodstained chain. A single set of applause began at the rear of the locker room as a sea of observing gladiators parted to reveal a smiling Zipang.
"My. Little. Breadwinner!" the man exclaimed gleefully through an absolutely jubilant grin, "That, my friend, was simply what people had come to expect from you!"
"You made it too easy," Galm panted, gripping tightly to the gold necklace. He was slightly offended, having such an incompetent mercenary thrown against him like he were some sort of washed up has-been in need of pity.
"Well," Grabarc replied with a slight knot in his throat, "Sort of. Warlock was a bit of a fan favorite for reasons around here that continue to allude me. He was your standard crowd pleaser, people through his tacky gold-plated image on everything. T-shirts. Wife-beaters. Lunchboxes. We can't have that anymore now that you're my new champion, ja'feel? Besides, you have a much better... Hmmm... Sex appeal I suppose. Gods know Wynn only wore the chains so he knew where to stop shaving."
"How in the world did a fink like that become a crowd pleasing champion in the first place?"
Grabarc threw his head back and groaned, sliding over on his bench slightly and patting the spot to invite Galm as he reached between his legs to pick up a juice box and offer it to the immortal. Fae snatched the drink skeptically and eyed it over briefly before puncturing the pouch with the sharp plastic straw and taking a spot next to Zipang.
"What can I say Pixy? The gold age of immortal cage matches might be drawing to a close. Back during the uprising when we plucked you and all those other refugees up out of empire space, we had so many that we were shipping them off to backwaters. All these games? Just started as a way to keep all of you from killing each other off... Well... At least we found a way to keep things civil. Then people like you started to expand your horizons and just started to leave. Poof. By-by. It's almost sad, we don't have many of the old breed left. Hell, I suppose I should just be thankful that Snowfall has more to it than a load of crazed mercenaries offing themselves."
Galm gave a critical slurp of acknowledgement from his drink, blowing the pouch off the straw and into Grabarc's face when it was empty.
"I don't expect you to pity me boy'o," he spat, reaching down and grabbing another juice box and passing it to Pixy, "But like it or not you're just as responsible for this station as I am. I remember when your warbarge steamed into port here, loaded up with a whole frickin' sea of other soldiers and their clones. Most people got out of their with their entire units, really started to keep to their own groups and whatnot. But not you. Little Galm Fae, all alone. No unit, no friends. People didn't really want to speak to you, talk to you, get to know you. They all told me the saaaaaaaaaame sad story. The Pixy, the boy whose unit was torn between their ties to the Templis and their own right to survival. Half the ship wanted to kill you for being a Dragonaur, the other half was afraid to touch you after how many Provists you killed down there trying to escape. You had no employer or family, so I came to you and said?--"
Galm took a single sip of his second drink and turned to face Grabarc.
"You asked me if I wanted a job."
"Aye," he breathed knoding his head as he turned to watch Kador on the television, "Aye I did. I like to think I made a friend then. Even though you left for a bit, I'm glad to see a friend return. Hopefully... With some new friends."
Quote:
GǪ.ThatGÇÖs it! THAT IS IT!... Our underdogGǪ. HasGǪ Won! In an unexpected turn of events Hound reversed the tables on the match favourite and brought the expectations of his fan base crashing down around them. All brawn and no graces, our Hound might just be a contestant to watch down the roadGǪ.no doubt those heGÇÖs made himself some fans.
The Udorian surprised Galm, crashing down on his opponent with a force that only years of pent up aggression could accomplish. He felt and odd sense of satisfaction and pride for the man, taking another sip from his blood soaked juice box as he patiently waited for Kador's return to the lockers to join his midday soiree with Advir.
Kirjuun! Uakan!
Teknikiara!
Kanpai kameitsamuu!
Ra ra ra!
> --Confirmed Badguy Cera YC116--
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Thal Vadam
Praetoriani Classiarii Templares
Praetoria Imperialis Excubitoris
62
|
Posted - 2015.02.04 20:42:00 -
[127] - Quote
Hunter Junko wrote:Every second was a second in a surprising feeling of awe as hya'salia's micro-drone recorded the fight, up until the moment adamance brought the man down in a vicious neck-drop. the snapping of the bones reverted all throughout the arena.
Hya'salia was fortunate to turn away as Raiju died, recalling her drone and putting her wristcomp to sleep. she now knew the kind of man adamance was.
he was a warrior. so is thal, so was galm.
and then her wristcomp beeped. she down at it, and saw the upcoming notice for the next round of fights
Thal was thankfully, not her opponent. knowing this she breathed out a small sigh of relief, and then decided to visit the pit entrances, so she walked down the stairs towards the upper preparation rooms. there , waiting for his next fight, was Thal. he had been sitting there with somewhat of a hard look to him, though having just seen someone die in front of them was no small matter. she mused that something else had been amiss and decided not to press the issue.
'maybe he's nervous?' she thought to herself, that was when she decided then and there to do a crazy thing and gave the man a quick slap to the shoulders in a friendly manner
"so, the next round of fights now huh?" she said in her usual attitude; nonchalant and mischevious. she took a seat in the benches across from thal, and adjusted her ponytail a bit before looking at the Amarrian.
Thal was sitting quietly before the Arena, awaiting his call to battle when he felt a slap on his shoulder. It was Junko, giving him a smile and a pat on the shoulder. She sat down in front of him
"Yeah, real exciting. I hear I'll be fighting a tag team, so that will be interesting" he said in response.
He rose to his feet and sighed. Junko was the only one of their party he called a friend, and he supposed he truly valued her.
"How are you holding up my dear?"
"I am your instrument my Lord, point me to the foes of our Empire." Thal's prayer after becoming a Immortal
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True Adamance
Praetoriani Classiarii Templares
Praetoria Imperialis Excubitoris
17019
|
Posted - 2015.02.08 20:06:00 -
[128] - Quote
(Reserved Pending Short Post in 1 Hour)
"This is the Usumgal boy, the exalted dragon, wreathed in the fires of heaven. He is a true symbol of God's majesty."
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Galm Fae
Eskola Ergonomics
374
|
Posted - 2015.02.10 07:47:00 -
[129] - Quote
At the sight of the Templar, Grabarc seemed to beam with a sense of sadistic glee as he beckoned the soldier forward. He ducked once again between his legs to reveal a duffelbag lined to the brim with all manners of vials and bottles loaded with a variable playground of boosters.
"And you!" he shouted at Kador, angling his head to Galm, "I owe you just as much as I do my old friend here. Bless the boy's soul, he's one to appreciate the little things. Hand the man a juice box and a good woman and he's happy. You however, I intend to make sure that you are well compensated for your efforts out there. You want to become The Hound? I am more than willing to help you make a beast out of yourself my man!"
Zipang dug deep into the satchel before retrieving a bottle of clear fluid before unscrewing the top and taking a fine whiff himself before placing it back. With another reach he pulled out a plastic vial of blue pills and shook them around for several seconds as he began to laugh impishly. Placing the drugs back into the case he grabbed hold of the strap and held it out for him to take.
"Please accept this. Call it a bit of incentive pay for your first good match! It's my own personal sample platter so you can find something you like. I know you spoiled Amarr types don't quite have a mind for their own pick of street drugs so... I felt it only fair. Here I am, two new champions that are turning heads before the day has even yet begun! The two of you are going to have to make sure you pace yourselves out there, or we'll end up running out of fighters to stack you up against. Of course... I could always pit the two of you against eachother."
Galm set down his second juice box, glaring dead eyed at Grabarc.
"Hey now," Pixy murmured, "There's an idea... Killer work out there imperial, I didn't know you had it in ya."
Kirjuun! Uakan!
Teknikiara!
Kanpai kameitsamuu!
Ra ra ra!
> --Confirmed Badguy Cera YC116--
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True Adamance
Praetoriani Classiarii Templares
Praetoria Imperialis Excubitoris
17080
|
Posted - 2015.02.10 22:03:00 -
[130] - Quote
Kador glared disdainfully at the pair, as Galm sipped at his juice box and Zippang proffered the satchel of chemicals with a naturally black hearted grin, and too the offering with a grunt of thanks.
Galm Fae wrote:
"Hey now," Pixy murmured, "There's an idea... Killer work out there imperial, I didn't know you had it in ya."
The prospect was certainly and interesting one. The pair had almost come to blows before and the issue likely remained unresolved.
He gathered another nebulous mix of congealing blood, saliva, and possibly shards of his shattered tooth and launched them at the floor beside GalmGÇÖs boot ignoring that manGÇÖs angry protests.
He gave the contents of the satchel a cursory glance with something between interest and a forced courtesy for the half-breedGÇÖs erstwhile patron, masking his surprise as he recognised a number of very powerful hallucinogens heGÇÖd personally made use of himself while questioning Sani cultists and made a mental not to avoid the ones that were specifically likely to cause his clone permanent harm.
GÇ£Beast huh?GÇ¥ he muttered, wondering which of the drugs had pain relief properties. His knowledge on the basic toxicology of such boosters was limited.
There was an expectant look on GabracGÇÖs face as he watched the Amarrian rifle through the satchel. He almost crowed when Kador drew from the confines a small vial of Frentix and slipped it into the pockets of his cargo pants. He turned to Galm whose face was still hidden behind his drink, augmented eyes glaring daggers and him, flashed him a bloody grin.
"Gotta say I wasn't expecting this Fae. You never told me the pay was this good or that it was so easy to get a good lay this far out.... I'll be The Hound I guess. Never had a job that pays nearly so good as this one or in a place that has the charm Snowfall does....or the perks."
"This is the Usumgal boy, the exalted dragon, wreathed in the fires of heaven. He is a true symbol of God's majesty."
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Galm Fae
Eskola Ergonomics
374
|
Posted - 2015.02.10 23:58:00 -
[131] - Quote
True Adamance wrote:
"Gotta say I wasn't expecting this Fae. You never told me the pay was this good or that it was so easy to find a good woman this far out. Why you ever left all this for the girl is a mystery to me bud.... I'll be The Hound I guess. Never had a job that pays nearly so good as this one or in a place that has the charm Snowfall does....or the perks."
Zipang froze in place momentarily before rotating slowly to meet Galm's augmented gaze. Galm continued to sit there, shrugging softly as he unwrapped Wynn's chain from around his forearm.
"A girl, eh?" Grabarc questioned, "I thought you left to join up with that BetaMax mercenary group. Said you were itching to get back out there and fight. Hell, after the fuss you made before you left I really didn't have much choice but to let you walk away."
He pulled the halfbreed to his feet, swinging an arm behind him as he met eyes with Kador.
"This guy ever tell you about that? Something set this one off here. Yeah, he was exchanging numbers with his own little band of misfits that had pulled into station, but wasn't until something real vile set him off and he stormed off in a huff. Good to know it was a girl that caused it. Boys, you'll never have to worry about that again in Snowfall. If a girl was the one that set you off, you just let me know who the ***** is and I'll have her taken care of. I care about my people, and she made me lose one... I won't let that happen again."
Galm shook Zipang's arm off and began to storm away into the lockers as other mercenaries turned to watch.
"Galm!" Grabarc shouted after him, "That wasn't a suggestion!"
Pixy spun around on his heal, his augmented eyes now burning a deep red. Advir began to speak again, this time with more authority than his previously lax demeanor.
"Pixy... Someone hurt you, and cost me one of my greatest fighters. I will not hesitate to make sure that they are never a problem again. If you don't tell me, then I'll just have to start asking around until I find out. If I do find out who caused this... Well that would be a sever breach of trust that you can all avoid but just giving me a name. It's not like the ***** means anything to you anymore, right? So who was it then? One of the sign girls? Oh, maybe that one **** who ran the bar outside the old hanger p--"
"She's a nurse," Fae spat without thinking, "Or ex-nurse, whatever. She works at a place called Hawkers now. She used to set me up with drugs to keep me calm in between fights and take care of me until I healed up. When I learned she was just trying to get me hooked on her product I got mad and left. That's all. I felt like I'd been played, and wanted to start making my own choices in life."
Grabarc raised an eyebrow, nodding his head continuously as Fae shared his tale.
"Ah," he replied, rubbing his neck where his tattoo coiled around his throat, "That certainly is a shock. A woman who not only had the poor decency to hurt my people, but to sell her own product second-hand? Right under my nose too. This is troublesome to say the least. Well, I guess that'd make Hawkers cobelligerent in all of this. I'll have the boys take a good look around there and see if I can find this girl for you."
Pixy felt his stomach sink as Grabarc began to gather his effects and leave. It was a damn lie and it tore Fae apart knowing someone would have to suffer on his account, but anything else would have placed Niina at risk. That was simply unacceptable, and if the nurse from the night before needed to die then so be it. It would only further their goal by tying up lose ends. He didn't blame Kador for causing the scene, but he knew the Amarr certainly wouldn't approve.
"Grabarc," Galm called out as the man forced his way through the crowd of immortals, "Where did Charlie go?"
"Oh him?" Advir shouted over his shoulder, "The boys found out some back alley drug den was masquerading as a clinic. They took in patients at the front but funded themselves by selling crash out the back without my consent. I had one of my men go in as a patient and torch the place. Charlie's on clean-up over there taking care of any thugs that show up afterwards. He should be finishing up now. I'll have him meet with up with you once we're done taking care of Hawkers. You just focus on your next match! I believe they have an old friend lined up for you this evening, Pixy!"
Kirjuun! Uakan!
Teknikiara!
Kanpai kameitsamuu!
Ra ra ra!
> --Confirmed Badguy Cera YC116--
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True Adamance
Praetoriani Classiarii Templares
Praetoria Imperialis Excubitoris
17089
|
Posted - 2015.02.11 00:37:00 -
[132] - Quote
Kador curse his own stupidity under his breath realising for perhaps the first time that perhaps Galm hadn't necessarily walked away from his previously life on Snowfall cleanly. Now perhaps because of his own stupidity he'd condemned some other poor woman to a terrible fate.
He clenched his hands to fists, grinding his teeth together sending penitent barbs of pain right up into his skull as they individually tugged on the remnants of his broken toon, keeping himself from doing something stupid as the mobster left them in the changing rooms alone.
Kador turned slowly to Galm dreading his reaction, loosening up his jaw, spiting a the final mix of bloody saliva onto the floor by his boot. He let the satchel of narcotics fall to the floor and nudged them under the small bench Galm had been sitting on previously.
"Look Galm I'm sorry." He said letting the fa+ºade drop for a moment, his tone earnest as he savoured the bitter taste of the things he had said. Shame mixed with regret. "I never reali-"
"This is the Usumgal boy, the exalted dragon, wreathed in the fires of heaven. He is a true symbol of God's majesty."
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Galm Fae
Eskola Ergonomics
374
|
Posted - 2015.02.11 00:53:00 -
[133] - Quote
"It doesn't matter," Galm cut in, raising one hand passively, "It'll take care of itself."
He reached down to grab the bag that Kador had nudged away, pulling out a tube of nerve sticks and making quick use of it. The adrenaline from the last match hadn't quite worn off yet, and the conflict with Grabarc certainly hadn't helped to calm him. His head had already begun the characteristic signs of a migraine as he began to shield his eyes from the lights above.
"I should have briefed you about what the man knows, this is my fault not yours. I suppose there's quite a bit that I've tried to keep hidden from you and the team. Need to know basis and all that. I'm just more worried about this whole clinic business. I was almost certain that Snowfall had a monopoly on any and all boosters coming in and out of the station. If what Advir said is true then that means he's been losing his grip on power. Different Gurista gangs have to be trying to make their own products out here, even if Grabarc and his men are trying to crack down on it. Which, I suppose... Leaves two important questions."
He leaned back against the lockers, casually opening his to check that the weapon was still primed.
"Do we really need to destroy the entire station, and where in gods' name is Vyzion?"
Kirjuun! Uakan!
Teknikiara!
Kanpai kameitsamuu!
Ra ra ra!
> --Confirmed Badguy Cera YC116--
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True Adamance
Praetoriani Classiarii Templares
Praetoria Imperialis Excubitoris
17174
|
Posted - 2015.02.17 18:50:00 -
[134] - Quote
(Reserved I'll put a big post up this evening. Been off for a couple of day simply due to changes within the company I work)
"This is the Usumgal boy, the exalted dragon, wreathed in the fires of heaven. He is a true symbol of God's majesty."
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Clockwork Jester
Namtar Elite
Gallente Federation
73
|
Posted - 2015.03.01 09:23:00 -
[135] - Quote
Jester remained in the booth for some time after the others had departed. His gaze fixed upon the now lukewarm cup of coffee he neglected to consume. Unfortunately the six ounces of room temperature sludge offered him no answers. With a sigh and a considerable amount of will be managed to peel his eyes from the off white mug, and removed himself from the booth. He placed a handful of isk onto the table.
"Thanks for the coffee," he gave the waitress a half hearted smile as he left the dinner. The moment his foot hit the ferocrete outside he pushed all thoughts aside and focused on what had to be done. The depressed aura that had engulfed him vanished. It was replaced by an aura of confidence and purpose.
Gliding through the crowded station streets Jester moved with relative ease among the masses. Although his progress was hampered by the sheer numbers the closer he got to The Pits. He was the last member of the team to fight.
Jester managed to catch most Galm's fight on the giant holo screens outside of the arena. A soft disgusted tone escaped his mouth when he saw close up shot of Galm. The mans eyes were glazed over and distant. Jester wasn't even sure Galm knew what the hell he was doing. Jester was wondering if all the trouble he had gone through yesterday was worth it. From the look of things Galm was in for another rough night.
Due to the time of his fight Jester was unable to watch Kador's match but he was able to catch the highlights on the screens inside the locker room.
Jester's sat on a bench with his elbows resting upon his knees and his head bowed as if in a silent prayer. A bead of sweat dripped from the tip of his nose. His body was already warmed up.
"Jester you're up."
The soldier rose up and followed the assistant towards the entrance. He could feel the crowds energy before he heard it. The energy was feral and bloodthirsty. Jester made a conscious decision to tune it out. He could not allow himself to be swallowed up by the crowds will.
Unlike with the others fights there was very little fanfare. After his name was announced he shut out all unnecessary distractions. The last sound he heard was booing from the crowd. He had opted to not wear a shirt and as a result his cartel tattoo was in plain sight. Apparently the idea of a rival pirate entering into the fights was not well received. Even if the symbol identified him as a member of the non-combat division of the Angel Cartel.
Jester never heard the name of his opponent it didn't much matter. The woman across from him was immortal even if he destroyed her body she would live on in another shell.
Out of respect for his opponent he offered a quick bow before assuming his fighting stance. The bell rung and the fight was underway.
Unlike the others Jester's fight lacked flare or massive amounts of internal organs leaving the body. It was simply a fight between two combatants. Fortunately his opponents skill level was below his own. Even then he was cautious, knowing that a mistake against even an unskilled opponent could be deadly. Jester used only counter punches and strikes. Inflicting the most damage possible with the minimum energy expended.
The fight dragged on for nearly ten minutes. His exhausted opponent threw a haphazard punch that Jester capitalized on. In a fluid motion he knocked to her knees and drove an elbow down hard into the base of her skull. There was a soft popping sound as the c2and 3 vertebrae were severed, paralyzingly her from her neck down. If she was lucky and if Jester had struck with enough force her lungs would be rendered non functional and she would die within the next few minutes. At the very least she would feel no pain as her vital organs shut down due to lack of oxygen.
With his task complete he bowed to his now dying opponent and left the same way he had entered. He did not bother acknowledging the crowd much to their displeasure. Rather than being showered with the cheers of a satisfied audience he was serenaded by a chorus of boos and several choice adjectives. With his performance he may have just turned himself into the villain of the tournament in the crowds eyes.
He made his way towards the showers to cool himself down after the fight. Galm was the first person he saw upon entering.
"Nice fight there kid dynamite, you look like something that came out the wrong end of a fedo."
Jester's suspicions were confirmed when he got a closer look at Galm. He was high on something.
As he turned towards the showers he saw a stumbling Templar that could barely keep himself upright.
"On second thought he looks like the backside of a fedo, you just look like crap."
While he found it rather humorous that the Templar was experimenting he was pissed Galm had taken anything after last night.
He walked away from the showers and sat down across from Galm.
"So what are you two on and how much." He needed to know if he was going to help the both of them get through it.
As he asked he pulled a pack of clove cigarettes out of his pocket. He shook it, there were only a few left. Returning his gaze to Galm he quietly lit the cigarette waiting for either of them to answer.
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True Adamance
Praetoriani Classiarii Templares
Praetoria Imperialis Excubitoris
17544
|
Posted - 2015.03.10 09:40:00 -
[136] - Quote
GÇ£HelloGÇ¥ he managed to croak back as the swarthy Gallentean approached them from the eaves of a nearby corridor, slouching down opposite Galm, and lighting up one of the dozen cigaretteGÇÖs he kept on hand.
Jester looked no worse for wear than one might have expected from someone whoGÇÖd been in the pits, a couple of bruisers, his naturally foolish looking grin, and the remnants of a thin film of sweat developed through intense physical exertion.
He left the pair where they were sitting ambling off towards the showers passing a dozen fighters who either looked slightly taken aback or nodded approvingly at him offering unintelligible praise of condemnation as he passed.
The inside of his throat was dry, perhaps a side effect of the Frentix, and swollen, sticky with backwash of nanite infused blood and bile. Swallowing didnGÇÖt help, it was like watering a desert, and the barrens absorbed the moisture and seemed to only grow more desiccated.
The showers were little more than exposed cubicles with a modest steel plate between each section that offered the Templar little comfort at all as he gingerly shrugged out of his clothing, carefully edging the fabric free from the patches where blood had dried around the wounds so as to avoid re-opening them.
As before he found the luke warm water to be heavenly, washing away the rivulets of the darkening blood from his back and knuckles, where he was surprised to find the skin had split noticeable across his knuckles, wounds already closed and in the process of healing.
He tried to avoid looking around at any of the other keeping his eyes firmly affixed to the tangled steel chain that dangled from thickly rusted over hanging pipe work, focusing solely on recollecting the blurry events and raw emotions that had consumed him, leaving the scalding water to run down his shoulders to soak into the bloodied vest he was kneading between his hands.
He was still in control of himself.
Gabrac may have through himself clever to put Kador in his debt, the drugs were certainly something any other immortal might have been swayed by, but to the Templar they were nothing more than tools, and valuable ones at that.
He had to focus.
HeGÇÖd already cost Galm a secret, and himself time that he did not have to watch out for a woman he did not even know existed and that he would be unlikely able to protect.
Satisfied the blood stains had come out he tossed the vest over to the bench were the remainder of his clothes lay in a small heap, before taking a mouthful of the cascading water, allow it, despite the heat, to soothe rawness he felt in his throat.
A few minutes later he stepped out of shower, gather his clothes, marvelling at how quickly they dried, and slipped out of the changing rooms, quickly moving through the corridors and out into the main plaza where once again he was greeted by the harsh glare of neon and seething crowds.
The plaza itself was not so crowded as it had been the previous day and he found himself confidently picking his way through the crowds amidst thick columns of steam.
HawkerGÇÖs was exactly as it had been as well, steady stream of clientele; revellers of all ethnicities comprised the line all who whom looked to be taken wholly by their personal vices, several swaying drunkenly, contained only by the velvet ropes.
He skirted the mass, quickly making his way up the stairs passing the same pair of bouncerGÇÖs heGÇÖd seen there the day before, noting with satisfaction as they took a moment to recognise him, several of his match highlight playing out on the massive holographic displays above the plaza.
If anyone in the line took issue with the unfolding situation no one commented, few enough even noticed him at all as he passed them by ushered in nervously by the security. He was not sure which aspect of him evoked this reaction in them, his being an immortal, or that he had successfully fought in the Pits. It mattered little though as he passed into the all too familiar den of inequity that was HawkerGÇÖs Club.
"This is the Usumgal boy, the exalted dragon, wreathed in the fires of heaven. He is a true symbol of God's majesty."
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Galm Fae
Eskola Ergonomics
376
|
Posted - 2015.03.12 03:20:00 -
[137] - Quote
Clockwork Jester wrote:
He made his way towards the showers to cool himself down after the fight. Galm was the first person he saw upon entering.
"Nice fight there kid dynamite, you look like something that came out the wrong end of a fedo."
Jester's suspicions were confirmed when he got a closer look at Galm. He was high on something.
As he turned towards the showers he saw a stumbling Templar that could barely keep himself upright.
"On second thought he looks like the backside of a fedo, you just look like crap."
While he found it rather humorous that the Templar was experimenting he was pissed Galm had taken anything after last night.
He walked away from the showers and sat down across from Galm.
"So what are you two on and how much." He needed to know if he was going to help the both of them get through it.
As he asked he pulled a pack of clove cigarettes out of his pocket. He shook it, there were only a few left. Returning his gaze to Galm he quietly lit the cigarette waiting for either of them to answer.
"If I'm being honest," Galm began, running his fingers through his hair, "Haven't the foggiest. One of the guards drugged me. It's wearing off now though, I'm sure I'll be fine."
He bent over, squeezing his eyes shut as he tried to maintain composure.
"You shouldn't worry about me, soldier. There was a time where I took far more than this in an hour. It's how the man keeps you under his thumb, leaves you chasing that next fix. Bastard's a hell of a salesman, and all the loyalty he needs for his immortals is the bottom of a frenex bottle. No offense to the Templar of course, he did the right thing by accepting. It won't nearly be enough to get him hooked unless he has a history with the poison."
He looked up, the golden chain wrapped around his forearm slowly sliding off as the blood on his hands grew cold in the station air.
"What about you? I must have missed your fight out there, but judging by the look of you it went well. Still got all your bits and pieces?"
He chuckled, thinking back to the first time he stood before the crowd. The thundering and applause mixed with the rush of battle kicked harder than any rifle the first time, but quickly subsided once you became assured in your own victory.
Kirjuun! Uakan!
Teknikiara!
Kanpai kameitsamuu!
Ra ra ra!
> --Confirmed Badguy Cera YC116--
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Clockwork Jester
Namtar Elite
Gallente Federation
76
|
Posted - 2015.03.15 05:01:00 -
[138] - Quote
A wide grin found its way to his lips as he watched the Templar stagger towards the showers. If they had not been currently on a job than the soldier would have delighted in the Templar's high, or taken the time to enjoy the amenities offered by the station.
The grin only remained for a few moments before being replaced by a much more subdued expression as he turned his attention to Galm. The news that his supposed guard had drugged him was disconcerting. Apparently the snake of a man intended to control them through chemical means. The part that worried Jester the most was that Galm believed he was fine. Unless the man intended to remain high there would be consequences. Jester sighed expelling a good deal of smoke from his lungs. He wanted to remind Galm about the wonderful experience the previous night but the soldier did as he was asked and held his tongue. It would do them no good to argue about it anyways.
Galm's change of topic to The Pits elicited another heavy sigh from Jester. He had one his fight in an unspectacular fashion, probably creating more enemies then fans.
"Fight went fine. A few bruised ribs and a few cuts, not a big deal." As he spoke he gently touched a small cut on his right cheek. "No one tried to munch on my ear though."
Unlike some of the other competitors he did not enjoy the screaming crowds, or feed off of their energy. He had a hard time focusing during his fight. He had to actively try to tune out the crowd noise so he could focus. Although he did not like the public spectacle he had to admire those who could deal with that type of pressure so naturally.
"You going to be ok on your own tonight or do I need to call the nurse again?"
He brought the conversation back around to the drugs and the fact that he could not afford to spend an entire night babysitting a strung out merc again. He needed to remain focused on the job at hand or he risked getting caught up in the station like so many others. |
Galm Fae
Eskola Ergonomics
378
|
Posted - 2015.03.23 00:55:00 -
[139] - Quote
Galm breathed heavily, tugging at a chest rig that was not there before scanning the room as if in search of cover. He ducked slightly lower in his seat, taking a long drag of the surround air before shaking his head violently in a drawn out shout. He pounded lightly against his temples, and looked back at the Gallente before taking a breath and speaking in a pained tone.
"No, I'm sure I'll be just fine," he huffed, wiping a small amount of fluid from his nose, "I can make it back on my own self. Not like you'd be able to call the nurse anymore anyway. Our Amarr friend sought well to that."
He looked down in shame before standing back up and searching the lockers for his shirt.
"There was a bit of a... Misjudgment. Grabarc suspects treason in his midst, but not from us. As far as he's concerned his biggest threats are rival Gurista lords trying to cut in on his hold on Snowfall. Which means we can either, A, murder everyone on this station and make the region safer all in one go... Or B, work with some of the bastards and have someone replace as head of Snowfall after a hostile takeover. I favor A, but I suspect B will save man unnecessary deaths."
He slammed a locker shut in frustration, spinning around to once again meet Noah's gaze.
"Believe it or not I might... Gods help me... Feel for some of the citizens here. Not care, not by a long shot... But I... I guess... Feel... Does that make sense or is that the Crash talking?"
Kirjuun! Uakan!
Teknikiara!
Kanpai kameitsamuu!
Ra ra ra!
> --Confirmed Badguy Cera YC116--
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Clockwork Jester
Namtar Elite
Gallente Federation
77
|
Posted - 2015.03.23 19:20:00 -
[140] - Quote
Rather than interrupting the drugged up pit fighter Jester decided it was best to simply listen. He wanted to ask what he meant by not being able to contact the nurse and what he meant by taken care of. Jester held his tongue for a moment while Fae continued to speak.
Quote:"There was a bit of a... Misjudgment. Grabarc suspects treason in his midst, but not from us. As far as he's concerned his biggest threats are rival Gurista lords trying to cut in on his hold on Snowfall. Which means we can either, A, murder everyone on this station and make the region safer all in one go... Or B, work with some of the bastards and have someone replace as head of Snowfall after a hostile takeover. I favor A, but I suspect B will save man unnecessary deaths."
The news that Grabarc was potentially struggling to keep control of the station did not come as a big surprise. If there was not some attempt by the other lords to increase their influence they would be a poor excuse for pirates. What did surprise him was the mention of another plan. The idea of inciting a coup. Removing one tyrant only to be replaced by another. In most cases it was better to deal with the devil you knew. Besides trying to stage a coup could potentially take a considerable amount of time unless Grabarc had lost a considerable amount of control to another lord.
Quote:"Believe it or not I might... Gods help me... Feel for some of the citizens here. Not care, not by a long shot... But I... I guess... Feel... Does that make sense or is that the Crash talking?"
Jester let out a soft sigh when Galm mentioned feeling something for the inhabitants of Snowfall. Given that he had previously lived there Jester doubted it was just the drugs coursing through his veins. For a moment he didnGÇÖt say anything, not entirely sure what to say. The nearly burned out cigarette hung limply between his lips.
GÇ£IGÇÖm sure its just the large amount of Crash in your system. The stuff can make you a little emotional. Or so I hear.GÇ¥
He had no idea if he was saying the right thing or making matters more complicated. All that he knew was that the job he was hired for was to remove the station, render it inoperable. That meant there would be a large number of casualties. He had accepted the outcome the moment he had agreed to the contract.
GÇ£What happened with the nurse? and what is the Templar taking care of?GÇ¥ His voice remained calm although slightly irritated.
The nurse had seen the explosive vests the other night she was a liability to the mission. He had decided against removing her because he believed she could still be useful. Besides there was the issue of her kid. |
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Galm Fae
Eskola Ergonomics
378
|
Posted - 2015.03.24 02:09:00 -
[141] - Quote
"Not really sure," he admitted, defeated, "Grabarc's sending some goons over to do... Well, whatever it is they do. I wouldn't worry about her talking, they're positive she's slinging mindflood and would tell any lie to get her out of the mess I've set for her. It was either lie and have her take the bullet or jeopardize the mission. I know I made the right choice." im
I was a blatant lie that caused him to bite his own tongue in spite of himself. It left a metallic taste in his mouth, a lingering reminder of his own self interest. The mission would have succeeded either way had Grabarc know the truth about h or not. Placing Niina at risk however... That was unacceptable, and worth the lie. Yet he couldn't help but linger on what she might think had she know Galm had just doomed another soul for her sake. He had already decided long before this mission had began that she was already worth the lives of every man, woman, and child of Snowfall Station.
Kirjuun! Uakan!
Teknikiara!
Kanpai kameitsamuu!
Ra ra ra!
> --Confirmed Badguy Cera YC116--
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Thal Vadam
Praetoriani Classiarii Templares
Praetoria Imperialis Excubitoris
86
|
Posted - 2015.03.24 02:59:00 -
[142] - Quote
Thal heard the crowd yelling in frustration and turned back to Junko. She looked beautiful, Thal couldn't help but stare a moment before shaking his head
"I...I think it is time for my battle. We will talk later Junko."
He stood and walked towards the gate, the chanting growing louder and louder. The doors opened and Thal stepped out into the ring. The crowds were in there usual frenzy, but Thal's eyes remained locked on the other gate as the announcer began
"LADIES, GENTLEMAN., AND THOSE OF UNSPECIFIED GENDER! WE HAVE ONE MORE BIG FIGHT FOR YOU TONIGHT! YOUR FAVORITE AMARR HAS RETURNED FOR HIS FINAL BATTLE! BUT WHO DO YOU ASK MUST THE HONORABLE ARCHANGEL FACE? THE ARMINA SISTERS!!!"
Thal saw the other gate open, and two young Gallente women slowly stepped out. One was relatively thin and short with black hair, the other was a monster of a woman sporting huge muscles and the same black hair as the smaller girl. Thal crouched into his combat stance. This fight would be tricky.
"BEGIN!" Shouted the announcer, and Thal rushed his foes
"I am your instrument my Lord, point me to the foes of our Empire." Thal's prayer after becoming a Immortal
|
Clockwork Jester
Namtar Elite
Gallente Federation
77
|
Posted - 2015.03.26 00:55:00 -
[143] - Quote
Quote:GÇ£I know I made the right choice."
GÇ£Fine.GÇ¥
Jester did not really care if Galm believed he made the GÇ£rightGÇ¥ choice. The choice was made it did not really matter if it was right or wrong. As far as Jester was concerned there was no right or wrong, just choices, and consequences to be dealt with. GalmGÇÖs choice was unfortunate though. The nurse he had just condemned to death would be leaving behind a daughter. It was what might happen to her that bothered him. Jester was wondering if it would not be kinder to simply kill the daughter than allow her to live and be taken by GrabarcGÇÖs men. There were fates worse than death, and at the moment images of children in cages kept popping up in his mind.
The soldier leaned back and looked up at the ceiling. He felt like there was a heavy weight resting on his chest. If he had been a normal human he might have been concerned his heart was starting to fail. For a brief moment the idea to quit smoking floated through his mind. The idea was easily shoved aside. He was immortal after all, a little poison and smoke damage to his lungs was not a big deal anymore.
GÇ£You know she had a daughter.GÇ¥
He was already speaking of her in the past tense. He did not need to mention the kid but he felt it needed to be said. That Galm needed to know the consequences of his decisions. Or at least thats what he was telling himself. In the back of his mind Jester knew he did not want to be the only one to carry the burden of what you happen to the young girl. It was a cruel thing to even mention to Galm but it made the weight on his chest lighter.
GÇ£My next fight IsnGÇÖt for awhile.GÇ¥ Jester stood as he spoke, tossing the burned out cigarette into a corner of the room. GÇ£Break a leg in your next fight.GÇ¥ He said it sarcastically but a part of him was wishing he would. GÇ£IGÇÖll see you later.GÇ¥ Jester hooked his fingers into his pockets as he walked out of the locker room, leaving Galm alone.
|
Galm Fae
Eskola Ergonomics
378
|
Posted - 2015.03.26 06:16:00 -
[144] - Quote
Clockwork Jester wrote: GÇ£IGÇÖll see you later.GÇ¥ Jester hooked his fingers into his pockets as he walked out of the locker room, leaving Galm alone.
Galm waited until Jester was just out of reach before spinning around and driving his fist into the locker behind him. The sound was loud enough that he would have certainly heard the impact as he forced the tempered metal to dent inward and knock the door off its hinge. Fae pulled back quickly checking that his hand wasn't too badly damaged and cursing his own lack of self control. He'd certainly done more harm to his hand than the door, his hardened knuckles piecing through the skin as nanites struggled to bind his skin back together as quickly as possible. He clenched it as hard as he could in frustration, forcing the bone further out past the sutcher until it was clearly visible. The pain would have been excruciating were if his body weren't haulting and receptors before he reached the bone, but Fae instead chose to focus on the visual impact and study every individual joint between the bones as yet more blood poured from the wound. He felt oddly at peace with all of it, as if it quelled fire that was burning in the back of his mind for some time now. It was slowly becoming undeniable; the violence of Snowfall suited him.
I'm not letting this get out of hand, he thought as he examined himself, I'm not losing it... I'm not going 514 again.
He froze for a moment, a cold chill running down his spine followed by a surge of endorphins like he had just triggered a combat high. A grin danced across his face as a gasp evolved into a series of manic cackling, all the while gazing down at his bloodied an mutilated hand.
Out of hand, he couldn't help but think to himself, Out of ******* hand! I just got my own joke! Gods and spirits, if Mordu could see me now!
He was never incredibly close to the old man, but he had a habit of getting aquanted with all the youth who grew up in Mordu's Legion Central Command. As a child Fae looked forward eagerly to the day when the war hero Muriya Mordu would take time out of to stop along his way to make a poor orphan smile, sometimes to embarrassing lengths that involved eccentric clothing and groan-inducing puns. As he grew older he lost that appreciation... Then quickly grew to miss it once he no longer had the luxury of the mercenary's company. It was unlikely he ever suspected Galm of being a Dragonaur. I just wasn't that uncommon for a young man to sign up in the Legion one week and be dead the next, and he doubted Muriya had the heart to keep track of every young man and woman who his operations had sent to an early grave. He was sure that he had abandoned Galm and the rest of Warrior Team long ago. And if rumors circulated of a certain team of Templis mercenaries that had shot their way out of Pure Blind and were found guilty of committing particularly heinous war crimes during the clone uprising?
Those were just rumors. Rumors that would dispel with time. In time, no one would ever remember Pixy and the what he did back in the Seituoda. He was amazed it ever worked, but in a Provist controlled government it was easy to funnel Dragonaurs into corporate kill teams across the sector. Even if Heth never trusted immortal soldiers, he would be damned if he ever let them have an advantage of a Kaalakiota controlled State. It was difficult to determine, however, if slipping Pixy into the immortal soldier program was a form of infiltration or corporate espionage. In honesty the two seemed ubiquitous, and ultimately irrelevant to the situation at hand.
That was Pixy's life. Not Fae's.
A scuff on the concrete next to him made him painfully aware of the fact that he had been cackling to himself for an uncomfortable amount of time now, forcing him to snap to a defensive position and compose himself as he came face to face with what appeared to be a young Khanid draped in a bomber jacket painfully similar to Galm's own. He stood there for several sends, dumbfounded as he unfolded his aviator sunglasses and tucked them into his shirt collar.
"Uh... Saisa," the young man began, "Are y-- Y'okay dude? Because I can come back if I need to, I ugh... Imma bit of a fan I guess and I kinda wanna be like you and I've never actually seen you in person and I've seen a lot of your old vids on the net and all the girls used to wear shirts with your face on them and I'm not saying they were just for girls because I used to wear one too and I'm still talking so this is a little weeiiiirrrrrrrrrrd... But at least I'm not talking to myself! So can I have your autograph?"
Fae rolled his eyes before wiping his knuckles across the kid's chest, vaguely spelling his initials in Caldari block letters.
"There a reason they let you back here choirboy," Fae spat as he wrote, "Or does every Gurista in the joint have their head up their ass?"
"Excuse me?" the Khanid spat, "You're looking at a Gurista! You've probably never heard of me yet, but I'm kinda gonna be a big deal. I actually just signed up to be one of the first Valky--"
"Yeah, I don't care. Sorry, mister... eh..."
"Silber, m-my name's Ilya Silber. Y'should probably add that in your contact log if you're going to be around here a while! We can trade war stories and get a drink or--"
"Yeah, I'm not. And you should be either. Sell that stupid jacket online to get a plane ticket off this station while you c--"
"But this is my real jacket, I'm a fight p--"
"And get out of here while you can."
There was an awkward silence as Galm retracted his hand, staring at his handiwork on Ilya's jacket. Deciding that it needed a bit of artistic flare he pulled himself back in and began drawing a small cartoon pixie in gossamer blood underneath his signature. Ilya stood their uncomfortably, racking his mind to make small talk with the grizzled veteran.
"So... How 'bout that Thal Vadam?"
Kirjuun! Uakan!
Teknikiara!
Kanpai kameitsamuu!
Ra ra ra!
> --Confirmed Badguy Cera YC116--
|
Thal Vadam
Praetoriani Classiarii Templares
Praetoria Imperialis Excubitoris
88
|
Posted - 2015.03.26 16:07:00 -
[145] - Quote
Thal leaped over the charging pair of women. Hoping to land behind them. To his great shock however, the smaller sister leaped into the air and kicked him in the stomach. As he fell back, the larger sister grabbed his leg and threw him back against a wall. The was a loud crack as the wall behind Thal craked a little. Thal stood up, dazed, and recovered quick enough to see the large sister charging him. He jumped to the side and she rammed into the wall. He threw a few punches at the large sister, but the smaller one leaped on his back and started scratching. Thal jumped back and rammed the small one against a wall. He looked down at them as they slowly got back up. Then, there was a glint, a reflection of light.
"WHAT IS THIS!?! SHE HAS A BLADE!?!"
The smaller sister rushed Thal with a small blade. She slashed at him and Thal bobbed and weaved out of the path of the blade. The larger sister threw another punch at Thal from behind. Thal grabbed the younger sisters blade arm and held it out and the larger sister's neck landed on the blade. Thal grabbed the younger sister's head and twisted. With a loud snap, she fell.
The crowd erupted into cheers and announcer babble, but Thal just walked back to the gate. He pulled out a communicator, and called the entire team.
"Thal here, were am I wanted?"
"I am your instrument my Lord, point me to the foes of our Empire." Thal's prayer after becoming a Immortal
|
True Adamance
Praetoriani Classiarii Templares
Praetoria Imperialis Excubitoris
19009
|
Posted - 2015.05.14 01:39:00 -
[146] - Quote
While Kador wasn't surprised to find the regularly client+¿le in the self same seats he and Mila had left them in the previous night before though he had to admit to himself that of course without the sex seeking throngs the club itself was a pretty austere affair, and severely lacking its previous impact given his sobriety.
That being said the dancers continued to dance, though the quality of such had diminished greatly as newer and decidedly less erotic dancers made their way onto the stages, drinks seemed to flow, and the cadences of a decidedly unpopular Matari-thrash metal band overlaid the whole affair with a sharp and dischordant tone.
He glanced about searching the darker corners of the club expecting to spy the male members of Mila's company at the foot of one of the raised cat walks, perhaps exchanging knowing smirks of unkind comments about the milky eyed dancers, or perhaps even that eventually picking out the 'GO PIXIE!' cap at one of the bar stools bearing the cELL Indie Processors logo.
The bar itself was carved out of a small section of the club, pressed together between what presumably would have been the private suites of the neighbouring Drop den, Way Down, or perhaps some lavish and comfortable smoking room belonging to the Executive's Lounge. Two dominant spans of colour ran the length of the iridescent black walls either side of the bar, coming together to eventually form the jagged reversed"cELL", in fluctuating shades of green and phosphorescent yellows.
Individual tables and bars hung suspended from the ceiling using low powered grav-tethers while the stools pressed in beneath them remain starkly conventional in design.
"Kal?!" Came familiar voice from behind him, though the woman it belonged to sounded nervous and out of sorts, and when her turned to her he could tell something was wrong. "You made it...awesome."
She'd decided to forgo her usual cap in favour of letting her short mottled hair fall freely down the sides of her head where the tips of her ears peeked tentatively through the tangled and messy strands. The crooked smirk was gone. Her face appeared drawn and pale highlighting a faith dusting of freckles beneath cold blue eyes.
"You don't exactly seem thrilled." He replied, trying to lighten the mood.
"Oh no... don't get me wrong it's great....and the fight was a pretty close one. I'm just coming down off something right now and waiting for the next high..... doesn't help that one of those guys practically dragged one of the dancer's off stage before. Shame really. She was getting good."
Kador bit down on his tongue hard triggering spams of pain from his broken tooth as it dug into the soft flesh enough to draw blood. Galm had been right. His slip up from earlier had garnered the poor woman the attentions of Gabrac's men and his selfish insistence that he waste time after the fight collecting himself had cost her. Worse still was the guilt that by pure coincidence his foolishness had affected someone she knew.
"You know her Mila?" He replied attempting to sound casual, cursing himself internally as his voice almost broke.
"I guess so Kal....." She said drifting off for a moment. "Mean I saw her around one of the clinics every now and then when Louisoix or one of the others was in for detox, talked to her a couple of times. Worked a gig here for a bit of extra money not that she needed it, probably just liked the place. Dyed her hair and everything before the shows..... probably just some ex-boyfriend or something pissed off."
'How long ago? What did they look like? Where?"
"Five minutes I guess. Dyed blonde hair, tall, pretty, bigger rack than mi...." She mumbled, trailing off into obscurity, looking confused as the young Amarrian began to shake his head. " You mean the man? I'm not sure since I didn't really get a good look at him."
He grimaced, trying to focus on one of the dancers to brush aside her questions, however he relented with a long sigh as she pushed her round face in front of his with a stern look. It would be easier to tell her most of the truth, she like most of the other station goers seemed inordinately perceptive, and the half truth just seemed to flow out with little effort.
"It's my fault. I said some things I probably shouldn't have in front of Gabrac...Zippaang...whatever you call him and I think that he might have had a hand in this. If that's the case I have to do something."
At the mention of Zippang's name she let out a nervous squeak, her eyed darting around suspiciously, reaching up as if to pull the cap that was no longer there down over her eyes, realising this was not possible she just leaned into Kador and rather ineffectually began to push him towards the table where the group had sat. They no longer hunched over their drinks quietly but has in the few moments since he'd arrived spread out between the bars and the catwalks talking boisterously as if nothing had happened
"You can't get involved with them Kal." As she shoved him down into a seat, snatching her cap off the head of the blonde Gallentean, presumably Louisoix, taking one of the drinks and throwing her head back until the filmy liquid was gone. She looked more pale than ever if it were possible. "Please just leave it alone."
"Mila you can't be serious. I If they k-" He shot back across the table angrily hammering a fist into the iridescent surface causing the grav-tether to fluctuate in a sharp burst of ethereal blue.
"I'm ******* serious Kal. If they kill her it would be the least of her worries. If not then...."
"What?" He spat back at her. "Let her get *****, beaten, or both?"
"I.....I don't know okay. But these people are serious you ass and it's not my ******* fault she's in there is it so sit down.......Sorry Kal. I didn't mean that, okay. If you go in there they'll just shoot you too."
He did. And it felt like Iesa III all over again. The worst minutes of his life......
"That is not dead which can eternal lie,
And with strange aeons even death may die."
|
Galm Fae
Eskola Ergonomics
384
|
Posted - 2015.05.18 07:06:00 -
[147] - Quote
Thal Vadam wrote:
"Thal here, where am I wanted?"
Galm straightened himself out, observing his work from a small distance while his augmented vision relayed Thal's message to the team. He cocked his head puzzled for a moment before once again meeting gaze with the young Gurista in front of him. The kid scratched his neck awkwardly, unsettled by the seamless shift in the color of Galm's left iris from an incandescent gold to a shining emerald.
In the early days of technological prosperity throughout the State, very clear distinctions needed to be made between the convenience of enhanced existence and virtual reality. Even with years of acclimation and development the integration of VR had an initially devastating effect on the State, proving itself the electronic equivalent of crash as tiresome workers would be all to eager to arrive home and slip under their helmet into a world of their own making. Inside the net, a single artificer could lose himself before waking up one morning to find that the only joy in their life was none but pixels and code. Those that didn't commit suicide frequently became vagabonds and political dissidents, working just enough to keep themselves alive so they could live to feel another digital rush. Outside of select sports stars, VR had come to be seen in the Caldari eye as one might look towards the most debased violent pornography. Augmented reality however, allowed those few willing to overcome the stigma to find a place in society that could balance themselves between the here-and-now and the then-and-when while simultanously increasing their overall productivity. Yet, clearly, there had never been enough out there to make Galm's simple parol trick common in the eyes of the young pilot before him.
"Funny you should mention the brute actually," Fae grumbled, more to himself than Silber, "Seems like he just finished his last match. Good for him."
His eyes cycled through hues of red and blue as he formated a brief responce to the man and sent it on its merry way to his datapad.
Quote:The Udorian might be in a spot of trouble. Maybe guns, maybe not. Be a lamb and see too that he doesn't get himself shot. Toxin weapons hurt like a *****!~
-Pixy
He shut his eyes, composing himself for a brief moment before they rearranged themselves into their usual dim gold. He looked once again to the Gurista before him, shook his head lightly, and began to turn away down the concrete hall. When the young man called after him, his voiced echoed through the bunker and off the tritanium lockers while the eyes of several resting gladiators turned to meet him.
"**** off!" Pixy shouted over his shoulder, waving his bloody knuckles through the air, "I'm going to get myself a drink. No time to talk to a slackjawed fan all day!"
"But you're on again in forty minutes!"
"I am?"
Galm spun on his heel, clicking them both together with a martial discipline before bounding back into the main room with a single push of his calves. Other gladiators, now eagerly watching the scene unfold, chuckled lightly as they shook their heads in mild disbelief that this man could possibly be the very same Pixy that had cut his way through fourteen consecutive matches before an early retirement. Each one raised an eyebrow the moment the mercenary once again began to laugh like a manic and wipe his grotesque hand across his forehead. The gossamer blood left an instant coagulated streak as the bones themselves bore a minor scratch into the mercenary's forehead as he wiped the sweat from his brow to better look up at the overhanging holodisplay and confirm what he had thought he'd seen.
1530-1600 Time Slot: The Hound vs. The Pixy
The display made for a curious visual effect, a holographic slaverhound snapping at a rotating ball of light and wings zig-zagging between the canine's jagged maw. Though the pixie seemed to draw nearer and nearer to the creature's foaming jaws, every snap would land comically close without ever actually catching it. Galm chuckled to himself, picturing the real world counterparts squaring off in a similar fashion to the amusement of hundreds of drunken pirates. In no time at all the score board fell away, swapping instead to a currently running match were one particularly swarthy looking matari had secured herself a cinder block on a chain and had begun to use it to beat a massive clone into submission. Occasionally a chunk of the brick would break over the man's spine and fly into the crowd, with the woman only halting her vicious assault once the cinder block had broken away completely from the rusted chain. The clear winner of her round, she licked streams of blood and brain matter from the corroded metal as a thunderous crowd began to cheer.
Galm gave a long sigh once the show had ended and the crew had scurried on stage to make the floor ready for the next match, knowing full well that he and Kador would be next to the slaughter. With one pensive huff he brought up his neocomm, glaring spitefully at the Gurista next to him who had yet to leave his side. As he typed the lad would occasional made witless commentary, regurgitating facts and statistics about the last round Fae had experience without him ever really paying any attention.
Quote:Kador, I'm heading to the bar now. We're on in a half hour.
Kirjuun! Uakan!
Teknikiara!
Kanpai kameitsamuu!
Ra ra ra!
> --Confirmed Badguy Cera YC116--
|
True Adamance
Praetoriani Classiarii Templares
Praetoria Imperialis Excubitoris
19
|
Posted - 2015.05.20 22:46:00 -
[148] - Quote
Reserved
"Crush all who complain!"
- Arkena Wyrnspire
|
Galm Fae
Eskola Ergonomics
395
|
Posted - 2015.05.25 06:52:00 -
[149] - Quote
Groupies, Galm spat in his head, Always more groupies. Why can't this place be like Jita? Nobody ever bothers me in Jita.
He scanned the room left to right, eyes glancing clear over the small group of young women that had turned to great him as he searched for the Amarr. Halfway across his field of view he paused for a moment as he made awkward eye contact with one of the bartenders, a scrawny young man who had made the unfortunate mistake of looking up at the mercenary as he was polishing the bar.
"Well?" Pixy asked, pausing for a moment for a reply. The man-- more of a boy really-- simply stared slack jawed for a moment while every other eye in the room darted towards him.
"Where are the drinks?" Galm led, holding the attention of the crowd as best as he could. Being a massive prick came surprisingly easy to him, in part from the crash and in part because he was a literal bastard.
"I'm sorry sir, but you didn't order a--"
"Hey," Pixy thundered throwing one of his hands up as he wrapped his arm over the shoulder of a nameless bystander, "I've only got a half hour before I go up against that Udorian mutt, and I wanna share it with everyone in this room by spilling some drinks! All of them are on me, let's get these guys their fill, eh?"
The bar stand let out one collective shriek of approval as waves of occupants flooded to the counter, eager to down another vial of inebriating liquid while they could. This left a majority of the area empty, leaving Fae to walk the room at his leaser to search for Kador. He knew damn well that his display was massively heavy handed and that promising anyone on Snowfall unlimited free drinks was general a horrible idea, but once the station began to burn chances were Galm would never have to worry about his astronomically high tab ever again. At the very least, he bough the poor sods a moment of merriment before their ultimate demise.
He attempted to press forward, only to bump shoulders with a small woman. He turned to face here as she glanced wide-eyed and dumbfounded at the mercenary, her GO PIXIE hat sliding further and further back on her head before rolling off and hitting the floor.
"Ugh, you dropped your hat miss. Miss?"
Kirjuun! Uakan!
Teknikiara!
Kanpai kameitsamuu!
Ra ra ra!
> --Confirmed Badguy Cera YC116--
|
True Adamance
Praetoriani Classiarii Templares
Praetoria Imperialis Excubitoris
19
|
Posted - 2015.06.02 00:31:00 -
[150] - Quote
Kador groan loudly into his palms as the half-breed sauntered over to the pair his voice lost in the mix of cheers as Galm offered the entire bar a round of free drinks in his typically carefree fashion. It was that carefree immaturity that Kador found himself both hating and appreciating in the man, a fundamental juxtaposition of character that somehow made Galm rather likeable.
Beside him Mila squeaked loudly as Galm addressed her snatching the hat up from the floor and sidling around next to the Udorian, so that Galm could not help but notice her as he talked to Kador, with a skittish look on her face.
"T-thanks." She mumbled, quickly dropping her gaze at the sight of his augmented golden eyes.
"Welcome Kirjuun" Kador said offering Galm a sardonic smile. "Seems like you are fitting in quite nicely around his Fae-haan."
He gestured at the mass of people crowding the bar pushing and squabbling with one another as if terrified their benefactor was going to rescind his generosity at a moments notice. Even Louisoix and the remainder of Mila's friends had jumped at the opportunity and had surged to the forefront of the melee.
The only people who did not move were the dancers, however they barely appeared to be paying attention, glassy eyes and vacant expression looked to be far removed from matters at hand saving of course the rhythmic music and the evenings routines.
"Come to get in a few licks before the fight or is there something I should know?"
The last part of the phrase carried a meaning he was sure the young Caldari woman next to him wouldn't quite be able to identify even if she was suspicious of his relationship with Galm.
"What do you want Galm?"
"Crush all who complain!"
- Arkena Wyrnspire
|
|
|
True Adamance
Praetoriani Classiarii Templares
Praetoria Imperialis Excubitoris
19
|
Posted - 2015.06.09 03:12:00 -
[151] - Quote
.........two hours ago.
He barely got all of ten metres before he collapsed. His legs devoid of any remaining strength giving way causing him to fall violently forward retching, trying to keep himself under control. The street was a blur of disassociated colours and noises. Screaming voices and a pathetic moaning he identified as he own.
Makoai slumped against the reassuring comfort of a nearby lamp post looking despondent and defeated on the curbside, his boots hanging limply in the filthy spillway collecting trails of sewerage. He barely noticed the rancid stench or the raging intensity of the inferno behind him where dozens of station security personnel were attempting to force back a growing throng of onlookers much to their disapproval. Already dozens of arms were raised with micro camera's and drones hovering about the area hoping to capture a morbid glimpse of that carnage that had become the small corner clinic.
Vyzion had gone in minutes ago and not returned.....Gods and spirits the man hadn't even hesitated to walk into the fire, hadn't even said so much as a word before doing it, just walked in cold and unfeeling. It was that casual lack of regard for his own life that had disturbed the elderly Caldarian more than anything else, the dead look in the doctor's eyes before he'd told him to take the girl and go.
Whether or not Vyzion had chosen to go back into the blaze Makoai never knew he had simply chosen to obey. Whatever of course had caused the inferno, explosion intention or not, was none of his business away way.
The girl, he thought to himself confused, blinking smoke induced tears from his eyes, oh Gods.....no. She was incriminating.
A quick glance over at her limp ashen body was enough to send waves of panic throughout his entire body. Soot covered her and dark red rings around her eyes suggested that she'd recently been crying, probably all she had time for in the brief moments of wakefulness between blissful unconscious spells.
She didn't move however, chest rising and falling in shallow breaths, and her complexion was pallid at best. She needed help......real medical help and her only hope wasn't here. Bastard, he thought bitterly, a sharp jolt of pain in his formerly dislocated arm causing him to immediately regret the thought.
He stumbled to his feet, leaving the girl on the side walk, arms clutching at the passers by. "She ne...needs h-help!" He mewled, pointing. "Y'got comm unit boy nawh use it! Git her some damnable help!"
A few people rushed over to check on the girl allowing the Caldarian to stumble free of the chaos, briskly lurching away from the scene. Ancestors be damned I won't watch her die....I won't.......no, she could be like my little girl. Making for the main promenades where he could get a rail cart back to his bar and back to his wine.
If you don't I might take Galm's advice. So close your mouth, you will need all the charm you possess today. Don't bother wasting it on me.
The words permeated his mind. Without realising it he'd begun to quiver, his eyes teared up, threatening to overflow down his cheeks. He'd forgotten for a moment the Amarrian was the same as Vyzion, immortal. He'd not tolerate failure, not for the fortune in ISK he'd paid the man. He needed to do his job.
"You wevil-arsed ****." He muttered under his breath, cursing the Udorian. " What filthy lice ridden slaver did you ***** mother fu....." He cut off. A stroke of brilliance, perhaps his best yet.
He changed his course completely forgetting the little girl and the guilt from the moment before pulling gaudy looking NeoCom out of his coveralls.
"Shash me ole' pal. Y'still in that bookie business bud........what'dya mean shush? You an' me go right back to the start of that thing. Got a tip for ya though. Strong new competitor coming around. Y'could make a few scripts offa him if my gut is right and y'know it usually is pal....... cut? What'dya mean cu......dun need one....I uh.....already got one........."
Present..........
[TBC]
"Crush all who complain!"
- Arkena Wyrnspire
|
Galm Fae
Eskola Ergonomics
404
|
Posted - 2015.06.10 05:03:00 -
[152] - Quote
Quote:"What do you want Galm?"
The halfbreed soon found a table to rest his weight, the small of his back sliding down the horizontal post unit he sat level with Kador. He barely paid any much attention to the Amarr soldier, his eyes glazed over as he scanned storm of patrons swarming the bar with a reptilian rancor.
"Look at all of them, Udorian," he huffed with contempt, "It's like they're not even people. They're just... I'm not quite sure. Ambient manifestations of this shithole, I suppose. They're like fedos, crawling all over each other to swallow down another chunk of Snowfall's festering corpse. They don't care about us. Ancestors choke, they don't even care about each other. When it all boils down these men, and I use that term lightly, are all here to tend to their most base needs. Sex, beer, and violence. Chaos."
He reached for a bottle on the table behind him, a small remnant left by a patron before surging forward into the crowd at the promise of higher qualify spirits. Galm shut his eyes and took a swig of the liquid, completely apathetic of whatever the contents of the glass might have been.
Matari rum by the taste of it.
"Anyway, I'm just here to make sure you didn't go off and get yourself into trouble after you heard of what I had done to that poor woman. I'm glad to see to see you're wise enough to veer from unnecessary danger. I respect that."
He took another sip, slowly this time to better observe the flavor.
What in gods' name is in this? Some sort of citrus? I wonder if it would go well with Starski.
"Actually... I won't bullshit you, friend. I was sort of hoping if I came here I'd be walking in on a chance to fight alongside you rather than against you. That in mind, I think we should really talk about the terms of our upcoming match."
It occurred to Galm in that moment that the young women from before had been staring curiously at the two during the length of their conversation. He'd hoped she'd be too smart to pay attention, but now all he could do was hope that she was too clever to do anything about it.
Kirjuun! Uakan!
Teknikiara!
Kanpai kameitsamuu!
Ra ra ra!
> --Confirmed Badguy Cera YC116--
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True Adamance
Praetoriani Classiarii Templares
Praetoria Imperialis Excubitoris
19
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Posted - 2015.06.11 23:15:00 -
[153] - Quote
Quote:"Look at all of them, Udorian. It's like they're not even people. They're just... I'm not quite sure. Ambient manifestations of this shithole, I suppose. They're like fedos, crawling all over each other to swallow down another chunk of Snowfall's festering corpse. They don't care about us. Ancestors choke, they don't even care about each other. When it all boils down these men, and I use that term lightly, are all here to tend to their most base needs. Sex, beer, and violence. Chaos."
Kador listened absently as Galm spoke somewhat surprised by the half-breeds undisguised disdain all the while admiring the sublime irony that of all the places he'd ever met with the man that Snowfall was the place where he found Galm to be most in his element. He could see it in the way the man causally leaned back against the table unaffected by the infectious atmosphere that Snowfall seemed to possess as if he lived and breathed the culture of violence.
Sex, beer, and violence. Chaos, as Galm had put it.
Still it concerned the Udorian greatly that Galm didn't seem to see his own hand in that chaos after all it had been him who'd triggered the stampede.
Quote:"Anyway, I'm just here to make sure you didn't go off and get yourself into trouble after you heard of what I had done to that poor woman. I'm glad to see to see you're wise enough to veer from unnecessary danger. I respect that."
As the halfbreed set down the bottle Kador snatched it up with a firm hand hesitating as if to decide whether or not he was going to take a swill of the unknown liquid himself before for it shifting it to the far side of the table with a low grunt that signalled he did not want to talk about the woman. He turned back to Galm shrugging off the feigned look hurt in the golden eyes.
"We still have our fight. Wouldn't want to disappoint your fans." He replied unsociably crossing his arms and rolling his eyes in an exaggerated fashion. His tone was dead pan hinting at sarcasm. "Speaking of, this is Tahiko Mila. Your self professed greatest fan. None Pixier."
[TBC]
"Crush all who complain!"
- Arkena Wyrnspire
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Galm Fae
Eskola Ergonomics
419
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Posted - 2015.06.17 08:40:00 -
[154] - Quote
Galm's normally cool demeanor ran flush for a moment, his face becoming a soft rose color as he shot a sideways glance at the young woman.
Oh gods, she looks just like Niina. Oh gods, that hat. Oh gods, that shirt. She's wearing my name. I didn't think anyone still wore my name. I hate it when people wear my name. Am I blushing, did she see me blush?
He fumbled wildly for the bottle, forcing down a long swig as he patted himself down for a set of sunglasses that just weren't there. He gave a single cough when the rum hit his chest, restoring his disposition in a change so fluid it'd lead one to question if he ever broke character at all.
"Biggest fan? Really? That's a tall claim. When did you flash me? Was it during the fight against Aardvark, because I think I had a crushed orbital that day. I mean, not that I would remember because I used to see a lot of... Eh... Nevermind. Thanks for taking care of my pal here, he's not the best at making friends. He literally cut me in half once. Not a real people person, this guy."
He shot a skittish look at Kador, his eyes darting back and fourth between the two as if to ask if they were in item. His trademark ****-eatting grin began to shine through as his eyes swapped to a deep violet.
"Anyway, I think you don't quite understand what I'm saying Kad--... Kal."
He eyed the young woman, curious if he should proceed in her presence. Yes, the whole point of entering the Gladiator pits was to act as a distraction but it finally occurred to him that a girl like Mila might actually look up to him. The idea of staging a match, even with the intentions of setting their endgame into motion just seemed... Wrong.
"There can only be one victor out there tonight Kal, and we need to make sure the right guy is still standing on that stage before the real show begins."
Kirjuun! Uakan!
Teknikiara!
Kanpai kameitsamuu!
Ra ra ra!
> --Killer of Snowfall Station--
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True Adamance
Praetoriani Classiarii Templares
Praetoria Imperialis Excubitoris
19
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Posted - 2015.06.17 21:36:00 -
[155] - Quote
Writing it as I type this.
Teaser:
"Matari gin fountained across the main atrium of the HawkerGÇÖs Strip Club a lattice work of intermingled disbelief, frustrations, and shameful appreciation."
"Crush all who complain!"
- Arkena Wyrnspire
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Galm Fae
Eskola Ergonomics
429
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Posted - 2015.06.29 02:50:00 -
[156] - Quote
Galm breathed out slowly, unable to adequately articulate the supreme irony of the moment. Through it all, he should have suspected that Snowfall would have made its mark on the Udorian. Or ratherGǪ NoGǪ No it hadnGÇÖt. Perhaps not to the effect one would think. Snowfall didnGÇÖt drive men mad, Fae knew that much. Rather, it had a habit of letting madness flourish. For the first time, Galm had a suspicion that the Templar was never as infallible as his gilded ego would lead him to believe. Shoashu never built Galm into a monster, it just embraced him and encouraged all the violence he had brought with him. It sifted the weak from the strong in a twisting concrete jungle where only the strongest were fit to flourish. It occurred to Galm in that moment that if Kador didnGÇÖt have some part of him deep down that was no different than Pixy, this station would have spat him out the day he arrived.
Fae took one last drink from the glass bottle before tossing it onto the ground with reckless abandon, leaving the bar without saying another word as glass shards crumpled underneath his boots. Once he was clear of blasting music, he opened his NeoComm.
Morgan Wulver had a hard time just wrapping his head around it. With an area of effect of fifteen kilometers it was more than enough to destroy the hanger several times over, and nobody seemed to bat an eye. Just owning one of these in empire space was enough to merit investigation, much less ferry it onboard a station from a frigate ill equipped to even deploy such a massive weapon. The concept of seeing one in person was surreal, and the act of actually owning one even more so. Not to say it was beyond his price range, but the way he had secured such a large explosive was enough to justify a novel in itself. Unfortunately, this is not a story about him. His NeoComm pinged, alerting him to an urgent message from his old compatriot.
GǣYeah?Gǥ he spoke through a raspy, shrill voice before clearing his through and continuing, GǣI mean, eh, hey Galm. I got theGǪ The thing we were talking about?Gǥ
GÇ£The thing?GÇ¥ his old friend barked through the line, his voice slightly agitated.
GÇ£Yeah, the, the b-word. The big one. You wouldnGÇÖt believe what I had to do to get this. Or rather, who I had to dGÇöGÇ£
GÇ£Oh, yeah, yeah, no,GÇ¥ Pixy coughed, GÇ£Look, about our arrangement, I donGÇÖt think Kador will let me take a fall. He wants to actually try dammit.GÇ¥
GÇ£So? IsnGÇÖt that what you want him to do?GÇ¥
GÇ£Yeah, look, the thing is IGÇÖve changed my mind too. I owe it to him to fight him with honor, and that man needs some sense beaten into him anyway. Just, just take all your money off of Kador and invest it into something wise. ****, I dunno, get a degree in something.GÇ¥
GÇ£But how are you supposed to pay me back for the scGÇöGÇ£
GÇ£Morgan, brother, IGÇÖll make it up to yGÇöGÇ£
Morgan audibly groaned before picking up an engineering drone with his robotic arm and tossing it to the other end of the hanger.
GÇ£You always say that,GÇ¥ Wulver bellowed, searching for another thing to throw, GÇ£We canGÇÖt keep pretending that IGÇÖm going to keep saving your ass because weGÇÖre family.GÇ¥
GÇ£If this is about the grenade to the faceGÇöGÇ£
GÇ£ItGÇÖs not about the grenade in my face!GÇ¥
Morgan reached up, carefully messaging the designer scars that had been carefully etched across the entire right half of his head. Maybe it was about the grenade to his face all those years back in MorduGÇÖs Legion. Or maybe it was for letting Fae talk him into defecting with the Dragonaurs and leaving Pure Blind. Or maybe it was for not going with him into the empirian program. Or maybe for never even sending a letter while Wulver was going through Officer Training School. Or maybe it was for somehow GÇÿloosing trackGÇÖ of their entire team during the clone uprising and escaping with a bunch of Gurista cut-throats, or the fact he was an immature ****, orGÇö
GÇ£Is this because I never went down on you?GÇ¥
GÇ£No, but as long as we're on that topic; if you donGÇÖt reciprocate with Niina, sheGÇÖs going to leave you like I did!GÇ¥
GÇ£ThatGÇÖsGǪ ThatGÇÖs not at all how I remember it buddy.GÇ¥
You could sense his **** eating grin over the airwaves.
GÇ£Galm, if you win this fight Zipang is going to want to see you personally. If this is about to start tonight, you gotta know that you donGÇÖt have a lot of options left. Half your team has already walked away from the assignment, IGÇÖve been spending all day getting them and their clones flight manifests to get them out of Tenal.GÇ¥
GÇ£ThatGÇÖs fine,GÇ¥ Fae strained, his livid rage only slightly overcome by the pressing need to move forward, GÇ£Just have the TemplarGÇÖs vehicle armed for deployment and our clones loaded into the CRU. Once that's done, you can leave. I don't want you getting caught up in this.GÇ¥
He hung up abruptly, just before Wulver had a chance to retort a comment about the soldier GÇÿwatching his ass out thereGÇÖ or some other clich+¬ that people seemed to share at these moments.
GÇ£Is this because I never went down on you?GÇ¥ he yammered to himself, waiting for the maintenance drone to slowly make its way back in front of him before he picked it up once again and tossed it with a loud metal clank.
Kirjuun! Uakan!
Teknikiara!
Kanpai kameitsamuu!
Ra ra ra!
> --Killer of Snowfall Station--
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