D A E D A L U S - Sagan Starport
If she hated him now, he would know, right? He would have to - the broken, insecure mind which coexisted with the Eye searched relentlessly. It was one of the most devastating aspects of depression and anxiety - that so long as it dwelled indefinitely within like so many ever penetrating, gossamer, hair-like roots, it would work to justify itself. It was a maliace which could only survive so long as the host permitted. The insecurity would work to twist her words, to ignore all the right prts, to justify its continued presence. And it would use the host brain for the process, and it would proceed indefinitely on the endless quest to turn everything it could into another reason to feel anxious or depressed or regretful or upset. It would contort logic and defy reason and bawk in the face of reality itself if it had to. It would ignore the principles of the universe and delve ever further into the black pit of constant, churning dependence on fear and desperation.
His insecurities, self loathing, were all intrinsic parts of who he was - and so he would search with mad paranoia for any sliver of evidence to prove that he was right to regret. He was in her head - still not snooping through memories - but paying more attention to every bit of input he could collect from her mind that he could. Was she really not upset? It seemed that might actually be the case - but it was when someone spoke that their mind slipped enough to make obvious whether they believe what they're saying or not.
That silence had seemed an eternity of agonizing anticipation, awaiting, awaiting, awaiting the axe to fall.
His shoulders had relaxed visibly as soon as he heard the words. A simple, genuine sounding thanks.
But seconds later, the shuddering returned. What now? Only this time, he was laughing.
The kind of quiet, gentle laughing that might have been mistaken for slow sobs if not fo the lack of tears, the weary, but ever so earnest smile. A tired smile with a tired laugh, it seemd. An air of incredible relief, of the release of overwhelming tension, rather than the explosive purge of forced emotions.
He was definitely happy...about something.
Though this was a different kind of happiness. It was not the intense, half dilusional mania which all too often fell over as a thin veneer atop a mountain of unsettled emotional scores and haunting, lingering demons. No, the demons would never be gone - but nevertheless, there was something different, more wholesome and genuine - if more subtle. He shook his head slowly, as though he simply could not believe what he was saying. "I've never told anyone that before. In all that time..." His voice was soft as he talked through the remaining, dwindling laughter, smiling that disbelieving, but surely genuine smile. His tone was reflective, as he considered the magnitude of what he had just done. It was a positively monumental thing.
"Not once." he added, bringing hands up to slip under his hair and massage the back of his neck for a moment. He still couldn't believe it. "People have figured it out, but I've never, ever admitted it." It was such a novel concept to him - this foreign concept of 'admitting it' - this alien logic of 'honesty' to even the meagerest extent.
And while it was possible that she was simply disguising her true feelings, or that she wouldn't realize it until later, or that he was just convincing himself of another lie - he didn't think so. Not this time. Still possible that it was all going to end just like it always did - mistrust and discomfort, and guarded thoughts and resentment - it felt really good to just believe it for a while. If all the paranoia and boiling anxiety in his head couldn't pick apart the woman's brain enough to find something that killed his hopes, then the chances seemed pretty good - however impossible that seemed.
Hands moved around to rub at his face, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes for a moment. Another bit of mild laughter. "Have I told you that I'm all kinds of @#$%ed up and impossible to deal with? 'Cause you should probably know. I think the clinical term is 'nutcase'." Though it still all seemed in genuinely good humor, even as he teased himself.
There was a part of him that wanted to launch into another desperate tyrade, all about how he promised and promised he didn't snoop - but he resisted that distant urge.
Something about him seemed just a tad more mature than usual. He gave off the impression of a young man, rather than his usual 'late teens' persona. It might have been the soft, easy way he spoke, or the worldly awe at his - to anyone else - minor achievement.
When he finally looked at Nirix, it was a bashful, repentant sidelong gaze. The smile was a grin now, somewhat chagrinned, perhaps even mildly humiliated at once again having practically broken down out of nowhere, having to be dealt with. Part of him felt like a burden on her - but for now, at least, he could focus on other things.
Ketin nodded, finally looking directly up at her, still grinning that warm, affected grin. "Yeah, that's a good idea~" then, unconsciously, as if momentarily distracted by some buzzing insect, he said "Let us enjoy ourselves. That thriller has had me on edge since I began."
A strange thing to say, especially in the way he worded it - it was unlike him. But, then again, he had proven much weirder in the past - maybe it was a quote or something? Regardless, with a newly renewed energy - and it seemed very real this time, coming naturally, instead of being forced to the surface - he shut down the truck's engine with a thought, and proceeded with climbing out of the cab, putting hands contentedly in pockets once he was on the ground, and looking up at the big ship that would take them where they wanted to go.
Or, at least, partway there.
"We'll take the one that's set for Nasser Station. I'm sure we'll be able to hitch a ride to Menard's Grove from there." The happy-go-lucky optimism was there again - a very welcome return. Everything would turn out fine - and even though it was unlikely that he would remain certain of that fact for very long, what mattered was that right now, he was newly and pleasurably confident that everything would turn out fine.
He took a moment to look around the yard - the vast, expansive plane, where behemoth spacefaring vessels sat like ancient monoliths spaced evenly, but in no particular order for as far as the eye could see. The vessel they were apparently about to board was an obtuse, mostly hexagonal thing with a single, wide door situated close to the ground. The sides were ribbec, giving it the appearance of some futuristic shipping crate - which was essentially the case. Actually, it was the only ship nearby that he hadn't needed to look into to determine where it was headed - because this one had that information displayed clearly on a small, digital readout near the doorway.
NASSER STATION - 1600 It was a pre-loaded, automated cargo hauler. Why it was all the way back here was anypne's guess, but that - plus the fact that it was presently 1548 - hinted to plot convenience.
Strolling over to the thing, all the while appearing almost at peace, he thought about Blue. The more he thought about it, he realized, the less he understood. Only moments ago he'd thought he had a grasp on it - it was a feminine consciousness (Or something like that) which he had downloaded into his own brain, copy-pasted from some mysterious place out in the cosmos by the Devil's Eye. He was een pretty sure that he used to know her name.
But the more he tried to understand it all, the more he confused himself. Ironically, this sort of thing was not his specialty - and it was much harder to examine something when it was hiding behind both your eyes, and your thoughts.
He was going to have to take this slow, he decided with some finality, as the transport came within reach. He was going to have to be careful, too - because concern over the continued existence of Blue had fallen over him...for some reason. Part of him dismissed it and decided that it would turn out fine, but part of him recognized the strangeness of the situation, and the need to take into consideration the fact that the entity sharing his brain and body was, in fact, a living, sentient consciousness. That was the only part that he was reasonably certain of. The sympathetic resonance, the blooming glimpse at a moment worlds and eons away - It was lovely to play the piano, wasn't it?
It finally occurred to him with a jolt. It had been blatantly obvious, at least since a few minutes ago.
That memory had been, without the slightest doubt, totally organic. It was not the rhythmic regularity of the computer memory, not even that strange hybrid of synthetic and hypercomplex that he remembered from CAI. It was perfectly aligned with every other sentient, organic, living brain he had ever seen. Of course!
Blue - this strange other part of him which he struggled to comprehend even still - was a once-breathing, still-living person who had, one way or another, ended up having their consciousness transferred into a machine. The concept was not unknown to Ketin, although the pactice had generally fallen out of style throughout the Galaxy for as long as anyone could remember. Lingering prejudices from the origins of mankind, perhaps? Regardless, he was quite sure of it - and though he would not attempt to communicate this with his other part, he was sure - and maybe, just maybe simply putting it together like any other mundane, puzzled-out thought would convey the message that he'd gotten it. He wondered, vaguely, if there would be some sign in return, acknowledging this satisfied conclusion - though he doubted he would be able to recognize it either way.
Then he realized that he had, for a couple seconds at least, been repeatedly, and confoundedly pressing the OPEN CARGO BAY button on the external keypad, to no avail. This too was obvious - there was a manual deadbolt latch on the door. Frowning at the door, he went over to it, made a solid attempt at yanking the bolt free of the casing, going so far as to put all his weight on it and plant one foot up against a support protrusion - nothing.
Abashed, he looked imploringly at Nirix - it was unlikely that she would have any trouble at all getting the thing open.
Once unlocked, he didn't bother with the button again, bypassing it and going straight to the inner mechanizm with his mind. With a creaking groan, the door slid up - then stopped halfway at Kete's command, because the sound was dreadful on his sensitive ears. The two would duck under - one more than the other - and inside would be exactly what one would expect to see in a shipping container. Metal crates and boxes, and some cardboard boxes, were stacked up with relative neatness around the edges of the bay which constituted the body of the ship. It was illuminated by an adequate, red-tinted light from above. It was rather colder in here than it was outside, despite the lack of wind chill - though that clearly didn't bother Kete. He went ahead and hopped up onto one of the lower standing boxes, and leaned back.
What was the word, he wondered, for the opposite of 'lonely'? He couldn't recall - but that was how he felt. A friend beside him and a friend inside him.
There was a song about that, wasn't there? One of those ancient folk tunes?
"Cozy~" he commented, patting the spot next to him on the crate. He'd lean his head lightly on her shoulder once she was beside him, as the door creaked and groaned shut at the other end of the bay.
If she hated him now, he would know, right? He would have to - the broken, insecure mind which coexisted with the Eye searched relentlessly. It was one of the most devastating aspects of depression and anxiety - that so long as it dwelled indefinitely within like so many ever penetrating, gossamer, hair-like roots, it would work to justify itself. It was a maliace which could only survive so long as the host permitted. The insecurity would work to twist her words, to ignore all the right prts, to justify its continued presence. And it would use the host brain for the process, and it would proceed indefinitely on the endless quest to turn everything it could into another reason to feel anxious or depressed or regretful or upset. It would contort logic and defy reason and bawk in the face of reality itself if it had to. It would ignore the principles of the universe and delve ever further into the black pit of constant, churning dependence on fear and desperation.
His insecurities, self loathing, were all intrinsic parts of who he was - and so he would search with mad paranoia for any sliver of evidence to prove that he was right to regret. He was in her head - still not snooping through memories - but paying more attention to every bit of input he could collect from her mind that he could. Was she really not upset? It seemed that might actually be the case - but it was when someone spoke that their mind slipped enough to make obvious whether they believe what they're saying or not.
That silence had seemed an eternity of agonizing anticipation, awaiting, awaiting, awaiting the axe to fall.
His shoulders had relaxed visibly as soon as he heard the words. A simple, genuine sounding thanks.
But seconds later, the shuddering returned. What now? Only this time, he was laughing.
The kind of quiet, gentle laughing that might have been mistaken for slow sobs if not fo the lack of tears, the weary, but ever so earnest smile. A tired smile with a tired laugh, it seemd. An air of incredible relief, of the release of overwhelming tension, rather than the explosive purge of forced emotions.
He was definitely happy...about something.
Though this was a different kind of happiness. It was not the intense, half dilusional mania which all too often fell over as a thin veneer atop a mountain of unsettled emotional scores and haunting, lingering demons. No, the demons would never be gone - but nevertheless, there was something different, more wholesome and genuine - if more subtle. He shook his head slowly, as though he simply could not believe what he was saying. "I've never told anyone that before. In all that time..." His voice was soft as he talked through the remaining, dwindling laughter, smiling that disbelieving, but surely genuine smile. His tone was reflective, as he considered the magnitude of what he had just done. It was a positively monumental thing.
"Not once." he added, bringing hands up to slip under his hair and massage the back of his neck for a moment. He still couldn't believe it. "People have figured it out, but I've never, ever admitted it." It was such a novel concept to him - this foreign concept of 'admitting it' - this alien logic of 'honesty' to even the meagerest extent.
And while it was possible that she was simply disguising her true feelings, or that she wouldn't realize it until later, or that he was just convincing himself of another lie - he didn't think so. Not this time. Still possible that it was all going to end just like it always did - mistrust and discomfort, and guarded thoughts and resentment - it felt really good to just believe it for a while. If all the paranoia and boiling anxiety in his head couldn't pick apart the woman's brain enough to find something that killed his hopes, then the chances seemed pretty good - however impossible that seemed.
Hands moved around to rub at his face, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes for a moment. Another bit of mild laughter. "Have I told you that I'm all kinds of @#$%ed up and impossible to deal with? 'Cause you should probably know. I think the clinical term is 'nutcase'." Though it still all seemed in genuinely good humor, even as he teased himself.
There was a part of him that wanted to launch into another desperate tyrade, all about how he promised and promised he didn't snoop - but he resisted that distant urge.
Something about him seemed just a tad more mature than usual. He gave off the impression of a young man, rather than his usual 'late teens' persona. It might have been the soft, easy way he spoke, or the worldly awe at his - to anyone else - minor achievement.
When he finally looked at Nirix, it was a bashful, repentant sidelong gaze. The smile was a grin now, somewhat chagrinned, perhaps even mildly humiliated at once again having practically broken down out of nowhere, having to be dealt with. Part of him felt like a burden on her - but for now, at least, he could focus on other things.
Ketin nodded, finally looking directly up at her, still grinning that warm, affected grin. "Yeah, that's a good idea~" then, unconsciously, as if momentarily distracted by some buzzing insect, he said "Let us enjoy ourselves. That thriller has had me on edge since I began."
A strange thing to say, especially in the way he worded it - it was unlike him. But, then again, he had proven much weirder in the past - maybe it was a quote or something? Regardless, with a newly renewed energy - and it seemed very real this time, coming naturally, instead of being forced to the surface - he shut down the truck's engine with a thought, and proceeded with climbing out of the cab, putting hands contentedly in pockets once he was on the ground, and looking up at the big ship that would take them where they wanted to go.
Or, at least, partway there.
"We'll take the one that's set for Nasser Station. I'm sure we'll be able to hitch a ride to Menard's Grove from there." The happy-go-lucky optimism was there again - a very welcome return. Everything would turn out fine - and even though it was unlikely that he would remain certain of that fact for very long, what mattered was that right now, he was newly and pleasurably confident that everything would turn out fine.
He took a moment to look around the yard - the vast, expansive plane, where behemoth spacefaring vessels sat like ancient monoliths spaced evenly, but in no particular order for as far as the eye could see. The vessel they were apparently about to board was an obtuse, mostly hexagonal thing with a single, wide door situated close to the ground. The sides were ribbec, giving it the appearance of some futuristic shipping crate - which was essentially the case. Actually, it was the only ship nearby that he hadn't needed to look into to determine where it was headed - because this one had that information displayed clearly on a small, digital readout near the doorway.
NASSER STATION - 1600 It was a pre-loaded, automated cargo hauler. Why it was all the way back here was anypne's guess, but that - plus the fact that it was presently 1548 - hinted to plot convenience.
Strolling over to the thing, all the while appearing almost at peace, he thought about Blue. The more he thought about it, he realized, the less he understood. Only moments ago he'd thought he had a grasp on it - it was a feminine consciousness (Or something like that) which he had downloaded into his own brain, copy-pasted from some mysterious place out in the cosmos by the Devil's Eye. He was een pretty sure that he used to know her name.
But the more he tried to understand it all, the more he confused himself. Ironically, this sort of thing was not his specialty - and it was much harder to examine something when it was hiding behind both your eyes, and your thoughts.
He was going to have to take this slow, he decided with some finality, as the transport came within reach. He was going to have to be careful, too - because concern over the continued existence of Blue had fallen over him...for some reason. Part of him dismissed it and decided that it would turn out fine, but part of him recognized the strangeness of the situation, and the need to take into consideration the fact that the entity sharing his brain and body was, in fact, a living, sentient consciousness. That was the only part that he was reasonably certain of. The sympathetic resonance, the blooming glimpse at a moment worlds and eons away - It was lovely to play the piano, wasn't it?
It finally occurred to him with a jolt. It had been blatantly obvious, at least since a few minutes ago.
That memory had been, without the slightest doubt, totally organic. It was not the rhythmic regularity of the computer memory, not even that strange hybrid of synthetic and hypercomplex that he remembered from CAI. It was perfectly aligned with every other sentient, organic, living brain he had ever seen. Of course!
Blue - this strange other part of him which he struggled to comprehend even still - was a once-breathing, still-living person who had, one way or another, ended up having their consciousness transferred into a machine. The concept was not unknown to Ketin, although the pactice had generally fallen out of style throughout the Galaxy for as long as anyone could remember. Lingering prejudices from the origins of mankind, perhaps? Regardless, he was quite sure of it - and though he would not attempt to communicate this with his other part, he was sure - and maybe, just maybe simply putting it together like any other mundane, puzzled-out thought would convey the message that he'd gotten it. He wondered, vaguely, if there would be some sign in return, acknowledging this satisfied conclusion - though he doubted he would be able to recognize it either way.
Then he realized that he had, for a couple seconds at least, been repeatedly, and confoundedly pressing the OPEN CARGO BAY button on the external keypad, to no avail. This too was obvious - there was a manual deadbolt latch on the door. Frowning at the door, he went over to it, made a solid attempt at yanking the bolt free of the casing, going so far as to put all his weight on it and plant one foot up against a support protrusion - nothing.
Abashed, he looked imploringly at Nirix - it was unlikely that she would have any trouble at all getting the thing open.
Once unlocked, he didn't bother with the button again, bypassing it and going straight to the inner mechanizm with his mind. With a creaking groan, the door slid up - then stopped halfway at Kete's command, because the sound was dreadful on his sensitive ears. The two would duck under - one more than the other - and inside would be exactly what one would expect to see in a shipping container. Metal crates and boxes, and some cardboard boxes, were stacked up with relative neatness around the edges of the bay which constituted the body of the ship. It was illuminated by an adequate, red-tinted light from above. It was rather colder in here than it was outside, despite the lack of wind chill - though that clearly didn't bother Kete. He went ahead and hopped up onto one of the lower standing boxes, and leaned back.
What was the word, he wondered, for the opposite of 'lonely'? He couldn't recall - but that was how he felt. A friend beside him and a friend inside him.
There was a song about that, wasn't there? One of those ancient folk tunes?
"Cozy~" he commented, patting the spot next to him on the crate. He'd lean his head lightly on her shoulder once she was beside him, as the door creaked and groaned shut at the other end of the bay.
Laurent eagerness and excitement went ahead and grabbed the trolley and began pushing it, following Rin towards his ship. "Well let's worry about the bar later, we have a FABULOUS hyberdrive to install!" he says sounding like a blonde woman in Beverley hills California when looking at a pretty outfit when he said the word "fabulous". He was quite excited to finally the starport even though he has own ship, but getting a free ride from an intergalactic boy with obvious social issues, everything was just so perfect.
As they walked they would pass by incoming ships as they dock and leave, while some already landed and being relieved of there cargo. As soon as they got to his ship, Laurent will whistle and say "Impressive ship, especially for someone your size" as he gave an evil chuckle towards him as continues to push the hover trolley closer towards the ship
As they walked they would pass by incoming ships as they dock and leave, while some already landed and being relieved of there cargo. As soon as they got to his ship, Laurent will whistle and say "Impressive ship, especially for someone your size" as he gave an evil chuckle towards him as continues to push the hover trolley closer towards the ship
Rin glared at the jerk that was Montagne. "Don't make me decide to leave you," he muttered, but went ahead inside his ship, which automatically opened. He sighed, then turned around, taking the hyperdrive from the trolley and walking to the very back of his ship, where he had taken most of his fried Eisan Generator out. He paused.
Since it looked like he'd be around this galaxy for a while, he can probably save the fried generator and fix it up later, instead of disassembing it completely. Who knows, he might not even need to visit that... shady man the jerk had a history with. He shrugged.
He placed the hyperdrive beside him and crouched down. Biting his lip, he carefully removed the last bit of the old hyperdrive and set it aside in the neat little pile inside the container out for it. Alright- now to finally connect the hyperdrive from the annoying man and make sure it was usable with his ship.
... Speaking of annoying man.
"Don't touch anything," he called out, not looking behind him. It wouldn't do if he accidently killed himself during this process of the installation...
After a few minutes of adjusting and studying the structure of the installation point as well as the hyperdrive itself ("Too long," he muttered, "This is taking too long, ugh-")- just- a little more to the side-
There. Now to see if it worked. He turned and went up to the front of his ship where the controls were, smiling genuinely when it whirred to life. "Thatta girl," he whispered. He schooled his expression before looking over his shoulder.
"Welcome to the Nemesis," he said, a touch of pride warming his voice. And for good reason- it was the best thing he'd ever put together, upgraded from its humble beginnings in the scrap yards of his planet into the beautiful ship it was today. Commander Wyr gave him permission to upgrade his ship himself, instead of picking another from the military, and he was immensely grateful for it.
He wouldn't trade his black beauty for anything.
Since it looked like he'd be around this galaxy for a while, he can probably save the fried generator and fix it up later, instead of disassembing it completely. Who knows, he might not even need to visit that... shady man the jerk had a history with. He shrugged.
He placed the hyperdrive beside him and crouched down. Biting his lip, he carefully removed the last bit of the old hyperdrive and set it aside in the neat little pile inside the container out for it. Alright- now to finally connect the hyperdrive from the annoying man and make sure it was usable with his ship.
... Speaking of annoying man.
"Don't touch anything," he called out, not looking behind him. It wouldn't do if he accidently killed himself during this process of the installation...
After a few minutes of adjusting and studying the structure of the installation point as well as the hyperdrive itself ("Too long," he muttered, "This is taking too long, ugh-")- just- a little more to the side-
There. Now to see if it worked. He turned and went up to the front of his ship where the controls were, smiling genuinely when it whirred to life. "Thatta girl," he whispered. He schooled his expression before looking over his shoulder.
"Welcome to the Nemesis," he said, a touch of pride warming his voice. And for good reason- it was the best thing he'd ever put together, upgraded from its humble beginnings in the scrap yards of his planet into the beautiful ship it was today. Commander Wyr gave him permission to upgrade his ship himself, instead of picking another from the military, and he was immensely grateful for it.
He wouldn't trade his black beauty for anything.
Laurent let the boy do his thing with the hyperdrive knowing full well it will work as he walks around the ship. He taps on the ship till he hears a hollowed part and once he found it, he would go ahead and take out a screw driver and undo the panel there. To is delight he discovers an empty space in which he goes to a pile of cargo and recognizes a crate with certain markings on them and brings them close to the Nemesis. Completely ignoring the Rin's warning of not touching anything, he pops open the small crate and see's multiple things of bottle illegal alcohol and large white bricks of "pixie dust" and begins to but them into the little compartment that the Laurent made.
All Rin would hear his clacking of bottles and whistling by Laurent as he continues to stuff drugs and alcohol into Rin's black beauty of a ship. Of course Laurent wasn't going to comment on how the ship looks because for him it was a prefect look a smuggler/military ship.
All Rin would hear his clacking of bottles and whistling by Laurent as he continues to stuff drugs and alcohol into Rin's black beauty of a ship. Of course Laurent wasn't going to comment on how the ship looks because for him it was a prefect look a smuggler/military ship.
Rin winced at the sound of clanging and obnoxious whistling, whirling around to yell at the jerk before remembering his own agreement to smuggle as a way to earn money. He deflated, sighing. He grabbed his helmet- then, making sure the exposed parts of his armor were covered in that weird retractable black protective film ("Won't be in a desert all the time, cadet," Commander Wyr said kindly. "You'll need it in colder regions, like space-"), he went outside the Nemesis to stand guard... and to see if there was anyone watching.
Stupid Montagne.
Stupid Montagne.
Laurent smiles as he glances over his shoulder while holding the brick of white powder in one hand and the bottle of alcohol in the other. "I'm surprised you haven't yelled at me, nor ask any questions. I'm impressed" he states as he continues to store the goodies. "If you are wondering, this stuff isn't exactly mine, we taking them from the Red Tail Cartel, a crime syndicate based within the Imperial territory. It seems they were going to sell the stuff here, but not anymore, we are going to go some where else and sell the stuff at a much higher price than here" he explains hoping his talking subject would be enough to get Rin all irradiated by all this and get uneasy about doing this.
Rin huffed, rolling his eyes and looking irritably over his shoulder. "I wasn't wondering, and I don't want to know," he stressed, crossing his arms. God, why was this prick here again?
... Right. Because he had manners. Kind of.
... He'd never wanted to stab someone so much in his life.
... Right. Because he had manners. Kind of.
... He'd never wanted to stab someone so much in his life.
Laurent just smiles as he continues to stock the small compartment to the brim with drugs and alcohol. "Thank the Lords, I'm good on tetris" he says to himself as he continues to stuff the illegal goods in such a way that he using maximum space of the small compartment. As he continues his little task he was coming up with schemes and more schemes and tricks he can pull on Rin. He was definitely into his thoughts giving him memories on how he almost was able usurper Lord Ova off her title as Lord, but of course that ultimately back fired, but his pleasant thoughts of nostalgia caused his face to be slightly red.
Of course his thoughts is what he enjoyed the most really. Just reliving his experiences is what got to him and really his own opium really...
Of course his thoughts is what he enjoyed the most really. Just reliving his experiences is what got to him and really his own opium really...
Kingsbane
As the speedy Dendril ships, zoom pass, only two did a fly by on the artillery cruiser as the others began to open fire upon the ship with there large plasma cannons to draw the cruiser's attention to them and not the two who did the fly by on the Kingsbane screaming pass its port and starboard side. With those two they deposited two fancy click pen pea pods looking drop pods to penetrate the ships hull, two pods from each ship totaling the amount of four pods sticking out of cruiser. Once penetrated 3 out 4 pods opened at the same time and the dendrils squads came rushing out, causing them to be instantly annihilated by the artillery cruiser's self defense system. The 4th pod had trouble opneing up and once it opened, the Dendril's inside( 2 assualts, 3 berserkers, one pyro, one breeder and 4 fledglings) stayed since they were given the order too and also sensing there brother's weren't around either.
On the captain's deck of Kingsbane, Erica soon flickered into existence as the same blue small blue hologram as she did for Aylen. She wasn't all that flicky since they isn't much interfarce from Isandril but the NotSpace was still interfering with communication. She apparently appeared in front of Captain Wan nabes and stares at him for a couple of seconds before she spoke, staring into the egotistical captain eye's with her as one can explain as a ***** face. "So I presume you are the captain?" she spoke with her arms cross as she still wore he Dendril armor. "I have an offer to make in which can possibly save your life, but for now I am Lord Erica Codsworth Dimensional Lord of Time and Space and God to these beings that have entered your ship, the Dendrils" she greets herself telling Wan Nabes in a very cold fashion. "Before I tell you my deal, what is your relations to Aelyn? Are you allied to him? After him and if thats the case why? What is your mission here?" she barrages him with all these questions wanting them answered, obviously she is quite pissed off, but from what no one is entirely sure
As the speedy Dendril ships, zoom pass, only two did a fly by on the artillery cruiser as the others began to open fire upon the ship with there large plasma cannons to draw the cruiser's attention to them and not the two who did the fly by on the Kingsbane screaming pass its port and starboard side. With those two they deposited two fancy click pen pea pods looking drop pods to penetrate the ships hull, two pods from each ship totaling the amount of four pods sticking out of cruiser. Once penetrated 3 out 4 pods opened at the same time and the dendrils squads came rushing out, causing them to be instantly annihilated by the artillery cruiser's self defense system. The 4th pod had trouble opneing up and once it opened, the Dendril's inside( 2 assualts, 3 berserkers, one pyro, one breeder and 4 fledglings) stayed since they were given the order too and also sensing there brother's weren't around either.
On the captain's deck of Kingsbane, Erica soon flickered into existence as the same blue small blue hologram as she did for Aylen. She wasn't all that flicky since they isn't much interfarce from Isandril but the NotSpace was still interfering with communication. She apparently appeared in front of Captain Wan nabes and stares at him for a couple of seconds before she spoke, staring into the egotistical captain eye's with her as one can explain as a ***** face. "So I presume you are the captain?" she spoke with her arms cross as she still wore he Dendril armor. "I have an offer to make in which can possibly save your life, but for now I am Lord Erica Codsworth Dimensional Lord of Time and Space and God to these beings that have entered your ship, the Dendrils" she greets herself telling Wan Nabes in a very cold fashion. "Before I tell you my deal, what is your relations to Aelyn? Are you allied to him? After him and if thats the case why? What is your mission here?" she barrages him with all these questions wanting them answered, obviously she is quite pissed off, but from what no one is entirely sure
The change in Ketin's mood was a pleasant one. For now, he would thriving in the happy-go-lucky aura that usually sounded him like a worn but sentimental blanket. Nirix frowned. Somehow that analogy didn't sound correct in her head, Ketin seemed too old to carry a blanket as a child would, that thought however, got her thinking. Just how old was Ketin? Clearly he was old enough to drink, or at least that was what Nirix assumed, but...
Saving that inquiry for later, the Eoclu followed behind him, making sure to keep herself alert in case someone questioned their sudden activity. For all of Ketin's abilities, it appeared he occasionally forgot the usage of a stealthy approach to things. Nirix swore that his usual approach would lead them into a lot of trouble one day...Though she supposed it had already given them a lot of trouble in Daedalus.
"Can't open it huh?" Nirix tried not to laugh at how Ketin struggled to free the deadbolt. Unsheathing her sword, she made a quick and flashy move before the deadbolt latch was no more. Ducking to enter, Nirix hissed at how much colder it was than it had been outside. She honestly didn't know what was more of an annoyance, the fact that she realized she could actually see her breath or the fact that she was shivering like a poor lost animal.
The Eoclu were never meant to be out in cold. Sure, her people did have a colony on a Winter esque planet but Nirix had only traveled there once and it never felt as cold as it did right now.
"Fenedhis!" The curse slipped from her lips before she corrected herself and for once Nirix was glad for the possible small language barrier between the two of them. Ketin didn't need to learn her people's swear words, especially not from her.
"How can you find this remotely cozy, Da'len?" Nirix questioned him with a sideways glance. Pulling her jacket closer to her body for warmth, she tried not to focus her attention on her hatred of the cold.
"It's freezing in here," She pointed out as if it wasn't already obvious enough. Nirix prayed it would be warmer at Nasser Station.
Saving that inquiry for later, the Eoclu followed behind him, making sure to keep herself alert in case someone questioned their sudden activity. For all of Ketin's abilities, it appeared he occasionally forgot the usage of a stealthy approach to things. Nirix swore that his usual approach would lead them into a lot of trouble one day...Though she supposed it had already given them a lot of trouble in Daedalus.
"Can't open it huh?" Nirix tried not to laugh at how Ketin struggled to free the deadbolt. Unsheathing her sword, she made a quick and flashy move before the deadbolt latch was no more. Ducking to enter, Nirix hissed at how much colder it was than it had been outside. She honestly didn't know what was more of an annoyance, the fact that she realized she could actually see her breath or the fact that she was shivering like a poor lost animal.
The Eoclu were never meant to be out in cold. Sure, her people did have a colony on a Winter esque planet but Nirix had only traveled there once and it never felt as cold as it did right now.
"Fenedhis!" The curse slipped from her lips before she corrected herself and for once Nirix was glad for the possible small language barrier between the two of them. Ketin didn't need to learn her people's swear words, especially not from her.
"How can you find this remotely cozy, Da'len?" Nirix questioned him with a sideways glance. Pulling her jacket closer to her body for warmth, she tried not to focus her attention on her hatred of the cold.
"It's freezing in here," She pointed out as if it wasn't already obvious enough. Nirix prayed it would be warmer at Nasser Station.
D A E D A L U S – Sagan Starport
Kete couldn’t suppress a little snigger at Nirix’s unstifled cuss – or, rather, at the fact that she hadn’t intended t let it slip. While Standard dominated the Galaxy as a unified means of communication, there were still languages beyond number throughout the Galactic Plane. One thing they all had in common was curse words – and Kete had learned over the years to identify such phrases not only by means of attaching psychic intent to wording, but inflection too. He wasn’t sure exactly what the word meant, but that was probably for the best.
Now, sitting there on the low crate – Kete’s feet not quite touching the ground – and still leaning his head lightly on Nirix’s shoulder, he wrapped a friendly, companionable arm around behind her and gave a hearty pat to her opposite upper arm, as a means of helping keep warm. ”Becaause~” He said, dragging the word out to three syllables, as though she had said something silly and he had something up his sleeve. ”I picked the best seat in the house!” With that, he pointed lackadaisically upward with the hand that wasn’t on the Eoclu’s other side. Clearly he expected something to happen at just that moment – but after some seconds, the lopsided grin turned to a perplexed frown. He looked up in expectation which, as seconds ticked by, turned gradually to a mild frustration. He looked as though there were an itch on his nose, and he was trying to scratch it away by sheer force of will.
Still more seconds ticked by, and the cool, still air seemed to hang around them in the silence. There was a gentle, mechanical humming from somewhere in the belly of the small vessel, but nothing more. There was what appeared to be some kind of air vent above them – but obviously it was not doing what Kete had predicted or intended it to.
At last, Kete gave a frustrated huff, took his arm back and, still glancing upward as though the ceiling had said something crude about his mother, shrugged his coat off his shoulders. He draped it over Nirix’s instead – given that it was slightly too big on him, it fit over her own jacket effectively. There were the scars again, on his arms – the innumerable, faint lines and splotches and pocks that could, it seemed, only have accumulated over a very large period of time, particularly given the various states of healing. Some barely visible, others with a light, pinkish tone and tender complexion.
”I’ll be right back.” He said, hopping purposefully from the crate and trouncing past some other crates, where he disappeared momentarily behind them.
Over the next couple of minutes, Nirix would perceive the sound of a metal panel being removed, the sound of someone moving about through the walls.
It was the first time she’d have gotten a real, good look at the coat which Kete seemed to find so precious a staple to his person. Depending on how well she knew her leathers, she may have been able to determine that it was incredibly old. Yet, despite the overwhelming age of the thing, the leather was as soft and pliable as one could hope for. Granted, there were innumerable patches – in fact, upon really close examination it seemed that the majority of the coat had been repaired at one point or another – but the repairs had been very professional and virtually seamless, with virtually no variation in the deep, rich mahogany color, and the elusive patina that only timeworn leather could acquire. Despite the dark and well-worn texture, it was as silky soft as suede, while not a fraction so fragile.
It was thick, but light – clearly the base leather of the coat was something strange and exotic – obviously from some creature whos’ hide could withstand incredible sums of wear and tear and still retain high quality. The inner lining was softer still than the silky outer layer which, again, had seen repair after repair, but with high quality, professional workmanship.
All in all, Ketin’s coat was quite possibly one of the most delightfully comfortable jackets in the Galaxy. No wonder he was never bothered by cold – the synthetic lining must have been a breathing insulator because it was very, very warm.
But it wouldn’t be necessary for too long. Following the sound of someone moving about, there came a series of sharp, distant clangs, as though someone were kicking at metal. The last clang was deeper and more resonant – and immediately following the sound there was a great puff of grey dust from the vent above Nirix, accompanied by a rush of air that was at first hot, then warm. The dust fell heavily, and was pushed down, then out by the rush of air – enough to give the Eoclu a fine coating before rapidly dissipating.
Seconds later, a similarly dust-coated Kete came back around the corner. He stopped momentarily upon seeing Nirix in the same condition could not resist laughing, even as he brushed the dust off himself. ”Sorry about that~” He said, the lopsided grin returning. Upon hopping back onto the crate, he would take his coat back if offered, but wouldn’t ask. She could hold onto it a bit longer, since even now that warm air was descending on them from above, her Eoclu blood might have willed her to keep the extra layer long enough to make up for the earlier chill.
Two-or-so minutes later, there was the sound of hydraulic pistons shifting, engines beginning their monotonous whirr, a flashing light on the other side of the cargo bay to indicate that the automated vessel was departing. It was a remarkably smooth take off, rising straight up – not very quickly though, which was probably for the best. There was no roar of engines, only a deeper, rhythmic humming which denoted that the vessel was hydromagnetic – operating off the planets’ magnetic field rather than the traditional hydrogen thrusters which vessels requiring any amount of speed used. This method was much slower, but it reduced fuel and maintenance costs to virtually nothing.
It would probably take twenty, or twenty five minutes to get up to Nasser Station at this rate, but Kete was glad for that. It was just the kind of place where nobody could come bursting in on him, where there was very little that could interrupt their companionable moment. That also meant, though, that it was the perfect time to talk – however for once, Kete didn’t seem to mind so much. He seemed very content – glancing over to brush some remaining dust off Nirix’s back as they ascended gradually, gradually into the sky.
Meanwhile, in Nasser Station, monitors all over were flashing with BERAKING NEWS – Silver Stars Housing Development in ruins after suspected Devil Eye attack. City in chaos. Images of the tall, mirrored towers leaning in crookedly upon each other, one even giving out and collapsing on live broadcast into a rising cumulous of black ferroconcrete dust and shards of shattered glass. There were images of riots in the streets, as well as a look at the virtually demolished satellite defense offices – which were believed to also be a part of the Devil Eye’s attack, as a nefarious means of reducing the planet’s defenses so he could wreak havoc on the population and rack up his terrible kill-count. There were only a few images of someone with orange hair and an orange tail running along with a taller person with long, white hair – but the details had been shoddy at best since, until the collapsing of the towers, there had been little reason to attempt catching the fugitives. The media, however, was not one to allow such details to go unbiased – so the wanted poster of the evil, mad, sadistic kitsune-Devil Eye was shown a lot.
Nothing like a little sensationalism for a broadcast which was bound to a ratings system.
On some channels, the experts and opinionists and talk show hosts were already beginning to come out of their holes to speculate and shout about what they think should happen, or theorize about insane conspiracies, or put all the blame on one political party or another, or on any given minority or movement. People all over the planet were calling in, claiming to have seen the fugitives even in locations that it would have been preposterous for him to appear in.
So, it was business as usual for the sensationalist mass media, which positively thrived on this sort of life-ruining thing.
Kete couldn’t suppress a little snigger at Nirix’s unstifled cuss – or, rather, at the fact that she hadn’t intended t let it slip. While Standard dominated the Galaxy as a unified means of communication, there were still languages beyond number throughout the Galactic Plane. One thing they all had in common was curse words – and Kete had learned over the years to identify such phrases not only by means of attaching psychic intent to wording, but inflection too. He wasn’t sure exactly what the word meant, but that was probably for the best.
Now, sitting there on the low crate – Kete’s feet not quite touching the ground – and still leaning his head lightly on Nirix’s shoulder, he wrapped a friendly, companionable arm around behind her and gave a hearty pat to her opposite upper arm, as a means of helping keep warm. ”Becaause~” He said, dragging the word out to three syllables, as though she had said something silly and he had something up his sleeve. ”I picked the best seat in the house!” With that, he pointed lackadaisically upward with the hand that wasn’t on the Eoclu’s other side. Clearly he expected something to happen at just that moment – but after some seconds, the lopsided grin turned to a perplexed frown. He looked up in expectation which, as seconds ticked by, turned gradually to a mild frustration. He looked as though there were an itch on his nose, and he was trying to scratch it away by sheer force of will.
Still more seconds ticked by, and the cool, still air seemed to hang around them in the silence. There was a gentle, mechanical humming from somewhere in the belly of the small vessel, but nothing more. There was what appeared to be some kind of air vent above them – but obviously it was not doing what Kete had predicted or intended it to.
At last, Kete gave a frustrated huff, took his arm back and, still glancing upward as though the ceiling had said something crude about his mother, shrugged his coat off his shoulders. He draped it over Nirix’s instead – given that it was slightly too big on him, it fit over her own jacket effectively. There were the scars again, on his arms – the innumerable, faint lines and splotches and pocks that could, it seemed, only have accumulated over a very large period of time, particularly given the various states of healing. Some barely visible, others with a light, pinkish tone and tender complexion.
”I’ll be right back.” He said, hopping purposefully from the crate and trouncing past some other crates, where he disappeared momentarily behind them.
Over the next couple of minutes, Nirix would perceive the sound of a metal panel being removed, the sound of someone moving about through the walls.
It was the first time she’d have gotten a real, good look at the coat which Kete seemed to find so precious a staple to his person. Depending on how well she knew her leathers, she may have been able to determine that it was incredibly old. Yet, despite the overwhelming age of the thing, the leather was as soft and pliable as one could hope for. Granted, there were innumerable patches – in fact, upon really close examination it seemed that the majority of the coat had been repaired at one point or another – but the repairs had been very professional and virtually seamless, with virtually no variation in the deep, rich mahogany color, and the elusive patina that only timeworn leather could acquire. Despite the dark and well-worn texture, it was as silky soft as suede, while not a fraction so fragile.
It was thick, but light – clearly the base leather of the coat was something strange and exotic – obviously from some creature whos’ hide could withstand incredible sums of wear and tear and still retain high quality. The inner lining was softer still than the silky outer layer which, again, had seen repair after repair, but with high quality, professional workmanship.
All in all, Ketin’s coat was quite possibly one of the most delightfully comfortable jackets in the Galaxy. No wonder he was never bothered by cold – the synthetic lining must have been a breathing insulator because it was very, very warm.
But it wouldn’t be necessary for too long. Following the sound of someone moving about, there came a series of sharp, distant clangs, as though someone were kicking at metal. The last clang was deeper and more resonant – and immediately following the sound there was a great puff of grey dust from the vent above Nirix, accompanied by a rush of air that was at first hot, then warm. The dust fell heavily, and was pushed down, then out by the rush of air – enough to give the Eoclu a fine coating before rapidly dissipating.
Seconds later, a similarly dust-coated Kete came back around the corner. He stopped momentarily upon seeing Nirix in the same condition could not resist laughing, even as he brushed the dust off himself. ”Sorry about that~” He said, the lopsided grin returning. Upon hopping back onto the crate, he would take his coat back if offered, but wouldn’t ask. She could hold onto it a bit longer, since even now that warm air was descending on them from above, her Eoclu blood might have willed her to keep the extra layer long enough to make up for the earlier chill.
Two-or-so minutes later, there was the sound of hydraulic pistons shifting, engines beginning their monotonous whirr, a flashing light on the other side of the cargo bay to indicate that the automated vessel was departing. It was a remarkably smooth take off, rising straight up – not very quickly though, which was probably for the best. There was no roar of engines, only a deeper, rhythmic humming which denoted that the vessel was hydromagnetic – operating off the planets’ magnetic field rather than the traditional hydrogen thrusters which vessels requiring any amount of speed used. This method was much slower, but it reduced fuel and maintenance costs to virtually nothing.
It would probably take twenty, or twenty five minutes to get up to Nasser Station at this rate, but Kete was glad for that. It was just the kind of place where nobody could come bursting in on him, where there was very little that could interrupt their companionable moment. That also meant, though, that it was the perfect time to talk – however for once, Kete didn’t seem to mind so much. He seemed very content – glancing over to brush some remaining dust off Nirix’s back as they ascended gradually, gradually into the sky.
Meanwhile, in Nasser Station, monitors all over were flashing with BERAKING NEWS – Silver Stars Housing Development in ruins after suspected Devil Eye attack. City in chaos. Images of the tall, mirrored towers leaning in crookedly upon each other, one even giving out and collapsing on live broadcast into a rising cumulous of black ferroconcrete dust and shards of shattered glass. There were images of riots in the streets, as well as a look at the virtually demolished satellite defense offices – which were believed to also be a part of the Devil Eye’s attack, as a nefarious means of reducing the planet’s defenses so he could wreak havoc on the population and rack up his terrible kill-count. There were only a few images of someone with orange hair and an orange tail running along with a taller person with long, white hair – but the details had been shoddy at best since, until the collapsing of the towers, there had been little reason to attempt catching the fugitives. The media, however, was not one to allow such details to go unbiased – so the wanted poster of the evil, mad, sadistic kitsune-Devil Eye was shown a lot.
Nothing like a little sensationalism for a broadcast which was bound to a ratings system.
On some channels, the experts and opinionists and talk show hosts were already beginning to come out of their holes to speculate and shout about what they think should happen, or theorize about insane conspiracies, or put all the blame on one political party or another, or on any given minority or movement. People all over the planet were calling in, claiming to have seen the fugitives even in locations that it would have been preposterous for him to appear in.
So, it was business as usual for the sensationalist mass media, which positively thrived on this sort of life-ruining thing.
Rin's head shot up, eyes meeting the blaring signs of an attack from the city down below-
Oh.
Devil Eye attack.
... So he was nearby. He slowly stood up from his place next to the Nemesis, looking out for any signs of the wanted bounty. If he captured- or killed, he'd have to ask- the Devil Eye, he might be able to buy parts to fix his Eisan Generator. Or... Go to that... friend of Montagne's...
... Yeah, no. He was going to fix that generator.
He put on his helmet, pursing his lips grimly as the sensors turned on and began scanning the faces of people passing by.
Oh.
Devil Eye attack.
... So he was nearby. He slowly stood up from his place next to the Nemesis, looking out for any signs of the wanted bounty. If he captured- or killed, he'd have to ask- the Devil Eye, he might be able to buy parts to fix his Eisan Generator. Or... Go to that... friend of Montagne's...
... Yeah, no. He was going to fix that generator.
He put on his helmet, pursing his lips grimly as the sensors turned on and began scanning the faces of people passing by.
Laurent heard the announcement which made him pause for a moment to look up. He smiles and says "Well might be our lucky day that we will see him" as he went back to packing.
Laurent also adds as he worked "If you're thinking about heading to the surface don't bother, he's already gone...he's been on the run for a couple hundred years and I doubt he'll be on the surface if you went now" he then gets up and faces him with two bottles of alcohol in hand and a smile on his face and adds "I'm willing to bet he's already left the surface and is already coming here" with his trademark grin on his face towards Rin.
Laurent also adds as he worked "If you're thinking about heading to the surface don't bother, he's already gone...he's been on the run for a couple hundred years and I doubt he'll be on the surface if you went now" he then gets up and faces him with two bottles of alcohol in hand and a smile on his face and adds "I'm willing to bet he's already left the surface and is already coming here" with his trademark grin on his face towards Rin.
Rin hummed, already thinking as much. "Is he more valuable dead or alive?" he questioned, still scanning the crowd. He lightly rolled on his heels, clenching and unclenching his fists in anticipation-
With a jolt, he realized that he was grinning. He smothered it quickly, grave. He must be more wound up about his situation than he thought...
... Good thing Montagne couldn't see the look of pure madness on his face. He'd never live it down.
With a jolt, he realized that he was grinning. He smothered it quickly, grave. He must be more wound up about his situation than he thought...
... Good thing Montagne couldn't see the look of pure madness on his face. He'd never live it down.
Laurent slowly approached Rin and gives him a lazy bear hug, slumping his body over Rin as his head rested on his shoulder and says "I'm pretty sure if he was kept alive he would be worth a lot more since of how slippery he is" as he says it to him like a snake on a vine tempting the victim to eat the apple. of course Laurent was still unable to see his face because of the helmet but indeed he would have been so estatic to see that Rin has come to the "dark side"
Rin flinched, head whipping around to snarl at the stupid, heavy bastard. "Stop touching me," he whispered, more breathily than he liked. HURGH, if he didn't move soon he didn't care, he was going to GUT HIM.
Laurent shot back up and bends towards right up his face and says "Aw come on you liked it" as he gave his toothy grin. Still holding the liquor bottles in each hand he says to him "Well since I'm already done I think we should keeps these two one for me and one for you" he says as pops one open and begins to chuckle the bottle.
Rin bared his teeth, growling lowly and beating down the traitorous blush he felt coming. STUPID. This man was STUPID.
... Are you kidding me. His eyes reflected his disbelief and disapproval at Montagne's decision to drink here, and NOW of all times.
How was this guy not DEAD yet?!
"... I don't drink," he muttered, then leaned up, hissing- he will NEVER admit having to tiptoe, this man was TOO FREAKING TALL UGH. "Especially not before a fight."
... Are you kidding me. His eyes reflected his disbelief and disapproval at Montagne's decision to drink here, and NOW of all times.
How was this guy not DEAD yet?!
"... I don't drink," he muttered, then leaned up, hissing- he will NEVER admit having to tiptoe, this man was TOO FREAKING TALL UGH. "Especially not before a fight."
Laurent put his finger up to Rin's face as he continues to chug the drink. Once he finished it he threw off to the side and made a loud crash as the bottle smashes into pieces. His face being slightly red seeing his blush and shrugs and states "Well more for me" as he begins to chug the other one after giving him a flirtatious wink at him.
Rin forced himself to breathe.
Don't kill him, don't kill him, he chanted, shaking his head as he closed his eyes momentarily. Flirty bastard.
He wondered what the hell he did to deserve this.
He gritted his teeth, turning away from the stupid man that was still too close and glared out at the crowd, sensors still scanning.
He'll just focus all of his rage into capturing the Devil Eye instead.
"Make sure to get yourself in the Nemesis," he muttered, half-hoping Montagne didn't hear him so he could just LEAVE HIM THERE, but knowing his luck... Sigh.
Really.
What did he do to DESERVE this...?
Don't kill him, don't kill him, he chanted, shaking his head as he closed his eyes momentarily. Flirty bastard.
He wondered what the hell he did to deserve this.
He gritted his teeth, turning away from the stupid man that was still too close and glared out at the crowd, sensors still scanning.
He'll just focus all of his rage into capturing the Devil Eye instead.
"Make sure to get yourself in the Nemesis," he muttered, half-hoping Montagne didn't hear him so he could just LEAVE HIM THERE, but knowing his luck... Sigh.
Really.
What did he do to DESERVE this...?
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