Dish Best Served Cold

[Falikos]

((I'm baaack... rawr))

Part 1-

"In the beginning, it is always dark. - Never Ending Story"

Stars blinked back over head, the pin pricks of light shimmering off the snowy terrain. I hadn’t been back to RubiKa in months, and I wasn’t confident that I could go back. Biology and burden had propelled me here to the ice, fear and habit kept me here. That and for all the roughness of life here, it was beautiful. In the dark it was hard to tell where the land, brink and stars all started and stopped. It could almost lull you into a sense of safety, almost.

The soft swish of the fur and leather cloak I now wore brushed gently on the top of the snow as I stalked through the dense trees. Not many travelers passed through the west forest and the tracks I followed appeared fresh. Everything out here was foe or food, and having not eaten for the better part of a week I hoped for the latter. My mind tripped over the idea that you are what you eat, but paranoia about the possibilities pushed it out of thought.

I paused on the lea of a snow bank and pressed the ligature of my clawed deck into the frost for balance as I crouched listening. I had learned that my eyes could not be entirely trusted in the white darkness, shadows didn’t always reflect exactly what was there. Pressing my thumb onto the fresh scar on my thigh I weighed my options. The fur of my cloak made from the cat that had caused the scar swirled over it uncomfortably, a reminder to be cautious. Tilting my head to concentrate on the direction that the prints disappeared, the only sound drifting over the bank was the soft flop of heavy snow shivering off branches; nothing. Damn it.

Rising to my feet slowly I looked over the mound of snow and could see a small pond that had likely been frozen for more time than I could wrap my brain around, starlight reflecting in it like glass. It explained the loss of tracks, but the quiet disturbed me. I squinted thinking a moment about the most likely direction my prey would have taken. I could feel the hair on the back of my neck raise up, the pond masking foot prints meant that whoever it was could of doubled around behind me. As I made the realization I turned my head to check behind me, and it felt like time was slowing down all around me. I raised my hands to blast first and ask questions later but I felt like I was moving through molasses.

An enormous glimmering black creature was bearing down on me. It wobbled side to side on spindly legs that appeared to have the knees installed backward, suggesting that it should drop to all fours and run like a cat rather than stand on two legs. For the handicap it looked to have it was moving in my direction fast; fast and screaming. The sound resonated in my skull, growing louder as it drew nearer to me until it was on top of me, clawed fingers pressing me to the ice. I kicked out as we fell hard into the powder, my head smacking against the drift. As awkward as it had looked to be it knew exactly what to do with the body nature gave it. With the full weight of the creature, I was being shoved deep into the snow, the drift to helping it hold me in place. Blinking my eyes I tried to clear my head of the shrieking and I moved my fist across my torso and caught it where its jaw should… be… ****.

My ears were bleeding, the warm liquid flowing down into my hair freezing into sharp red crystals. It breathed over me panting with gray clouds of moister, the smell almost as powerful as the internal auditory experience of its screams. I couldn’t feel my legs any more, and had started to not care; the solitude had sharpened my instincts but had put a damper on my motivation to continue to use them.

Large arms scooped under me, prying me out of the indent my body had made. I could see into its right eye as the creature lifted me with ease into its arms. The… thing… was staring at me, my mind adding hunger to the gaze. I forced myself to close my eyes to break the stare. I felt something hot glide up my neck, sliding slowly to my ears. I could hear the soft sucking noises dully until air rushed into my ear canal, no longer clogged with blood. The creature shuttered, shifting back to stare at me again this time with blood on its gnarled lips… my blood.

Panic still had refused to reach me; no natural heat had risen to my finger tips to reduce the dark thing to a charred and fetid mass. I lay still in the black arms, because my body refused to do anything else. I thought about the long knife I had strapped down the length of my spine. Imagined the bone grip, the feel and weight of it in my hands and tried to will my arms to move. My mind wanted nothing more than to jam it into the belly of foul smelling thing, but no dice, my arms were not up to cooperating. The ground began to move by me in a blur, and I had to close my eyes to keep from throwing up. I had no hope of defending myself if I was also vomiting, certain tasks require your full attention; tossing one’s cookies is one of them.

I was unsure where it was taking me. To the den where the rest of them came from, so it could feed whatever spawn it produced? I wasn’t afforded much time to think about it fortunately. We began to slow down and I could see rough architecture and runes in my peripheral vision, my face turned up to see the stars I had admired just hours before growing warm with the color of dawn. Passing through an arched door I could smell sulfur and old dampness. Firelight danced along the ceiling as it chased shadows in and around the columns we passed by.

I forced my neck to pull my head up from the flopped back position it was in and get a proper view of my surroundings. I could just make out a group in the back of the hall we had entered, gathered near a seal on the floor that was glowing warmly. I was being brought toward it at a respectful and what seemed to be cautious pace by the thing that carried me. Noticing that I was regaining my strength, if only a little, it stared down at me momentarily and all I could hear resonating in my ears was sleep… I had to sleep… I needed to sleep now… it wanted me to sleep… sleep…

[Naefen]

(())

[Falikos]

(Longish, but violent! :P)

Part 2-

Come On Baby Light My Fire

The soft glow of light began to seep in behind my eyelids as consciousness filled me. The thirty foot wide glass seal that made up the floor was warm underneath me, chasing away weeks of cold that had become a part of me. My body felt sore, and was oddly splayed out near the center; arms akimbo and spine twisted. I was unsure what was done to me, or why I was alive but thinking over my status only served to draw attention to the very present sensation of pain. It swirled in roller coasters of electricity down my legs, passing through my stomach in a downward turn and up again toward my throat. I clinched my jaw to swallow the coming scream and slowly spread my hands open and pressed my palms to the floor.

I couldn’t stay here much longer, whoever had started the Headache Express would be back to finish the job. Lifting my chest and head off the glass I squinted to see beyond the sphere of light surrounding me. A dull orange glow pulsed at the end of the open hall, and a staircase stretched up from the back right not far from where I was. Decisions decisions. I closed my eyes and laid there for a breath, tracing what I could remember of the entrance. My fingers clawed absently at the glass, marking the seconds I was wasting with shallow squeaks.

Eyes snapping open wide I shot up off the glass and bolted into a full run twoard the doorway at the end of the hall. The orange glow brightening with each stride, I crossed the threshold in a reasonable time and slammed my body tight to the door frame. My breath burned in my lungs as I fought to control the sound. The adrenaline fading fast after my sprint, I could feel the deep claw marks streaked across my back. I had to know what I was up against to continue my way out of the temple. Pressing my back tight to the wall I dipped my head around the corner and back.

Nine, which I could see, for the love of… I exhaled deliberately through my nose, gathering my wits. I could avoid the four on the other side of the catwalk, but the five on my side could prove to be a problem. I squatted down, resting on the balls of my feet while I thought. I could barrel through there and hope I made it through with some life left in me still. A pattering sound echoed in my ears, my blood was oozing down my back in rivulets to form red constellations on the stone floor. Ok, I need a plan B.

Commotion had started in the chamber I had left, a howling followed by the crack of bone carried to the shadow I hid in. I take it whoever, or rather whatever, had been assigned to watch over me had just been… demoted. I snuck another look around into the next room and scoped out the doorway down the catwalk from me. Several of the smaller unredeemed had bolted at the sound of their fallen comrade in the other room and only three of the portly and well armored fellows remained on my side. I grinned to myself, and straightened to my full height; I much preferred these odds.

My sense of triumph was cut short by the clack of metal on stone growing nearer to me from behind. Whatever I was going to do, I was running out of time to get it done. Rolling my shoulders a bit I stretched my arms out to the sides and curled my fingers into clawed fists, knuckles cracking. I would take the one to the right of the doorway first, and then worry about what to do next if I survived that long. The tapping was growing louder and quicker with each breath behind me, there was no where to go but out.

I dashed around the corner and tackled the bulk of the tubby unredeemed to my right, jamming my foot into its windpipe while it squirmed under me. It swung at me with the staff it wielded but the surprise and lack of air had it disoriented enough for me to evade the feeble attempt. Leaning into my boot with my full weight the creature let out a tired groan and stopped squirming after a moment. Sliding my legs to either side I straddled its chest like a horse, and worked to pry the staff from its clawed fingers. There was something delightful in squeezing the life out of my prey and I felt a smile curl the edges of my lips in spite of myself. The almost elegant way it had draped in the doorway in the creature’s final moments gave me pause to admire it. The tips of the armored spikes crowning the shoulders and spine, to the way the light hit the ribbed stomach held me entranced.

Without warning a searing hit my back and I spun around on the corpse to find that their fallen comrade had been missed. Two more of his brethren charged forward and a spindly eight-legged serpent hissed at me behind them. My self indulgence had spent my hasty exit, and I readied myself with the fallen creature’s staff. Both of the chubby gents were barreling at me like a pair of hungry mini-bulls. I sidestepped one of them and rolled my shoulder into the second. Unfortunately, I had miscalculated exactly how much heft that would be hitting me with and it slid me easily across the floor, pinning me to the railing. The air in my lungs rushed out of me as it slammed me repeatedly against the formed stone; internal bleeding becoming a fact. As it pulled back to hit me again I fell to the floor and rolled toward it and slammed the staff into the soft part under his jaw. It was on its way down and out, but it was taking my only weapon with it.

Staggering I screamed and ran at the spidery serpent with my arms spinning wildly. It was my experience that people rarely know what to do when attacked by mad people, guess it had slipped my mind that it wasn’t a person I was dealing with. It reared back and drove one of the tipped legs into the right side of my chest, nailing me to the floor with it.

I screamed. In my mind, in the hall, I cried out for every one and every thing to hear. I screamed in pain and frustration, for the agony of defeat. I stared up at it, mocking me and screamed while I thrashed out in vain. My blood was pooling beneath me, sending shivers through me while my toes began to grow numb. The cold of Penumbra rushed into me, replacing the remaining heat that was leaking out of me. Watery eyes obscured my vision, tears flowing freely, I lay dying a pathetic waste. I am nothing but a disappointment to myself; that I had allowed this thing end me.

Planting my feet firmly against the stone I arched myself against the ground, pushing my flesh up the femur of the beast, still skewered to it. The tingling was starting to stop, to be rapidly replaced by a bubbling fire. In that moment, I’d of paid anything to see myself through their eyes. I watched as it began to smoke and burn starting at where it touched me. It was their turn to scream. The heat continued to build, the body behind me also soon smoldering due to the proximity, his companion having wised up and bolted. Now standing upright I cocked my head at the charcoal remains of my captures and laughed. The air temperature around me continued to rise and the ceiling began to drip with condensation as it came in contact with the frigid air, raining down on me.

Striding down the catwalk with purpose I could feel my armor slipping off me in molten strips, leaving crude puddles on the floor. Giggles began to fill me from deep inside. I had been so afraid of myself, how foolish.

I ran from the temple, streaking through the snow into the night forest, leaving slushy footprints as I ran with reckless abandon wind whipping against my arms and legs. Slowly the heat began to dissipate as I ran free, and the cold of the climate nipped at my exposed skin. The run through the branches had flayed my fragile flesh without my noticing and I continued to lose blood from the chest wound. Glancing behind me a crimson walkway followed me to where I stood. Slapping my deck and receiver with my hand until it blinked to life I did something I swore I’d never do:

“If any of you can hear me… I could really use a hand. Please.”

I looked up through the canopy of the trees, backlit with star light. It still held beauty and wonder for me, in all it’s cruelty. Dropping to my knees in the snow I shivered violently, wondering if anyone would hear me.

[Banishedsoul]

((I just want to say.. WOOT.. Fali your back?!? ^^ ))

[SneakyPax]

Pax couldn’t recall the time when there was a happening going on within the walls of Neuters ‘R’ Us or if ever. Admittedly this location lacks the cleanliness and style of either Baboons or Rompa, the reputation and size of Reets Retreat, even the atmosphere of The Cup. It is quite a miracle that it still existed without customers. No wonder why no one rented that location for parties – it was a sorry sight. The floors hasn’t been cleaned for ages, graffities paved the walls not to mention the obnoxious smell that came from the restrooms. At least no vermin moved in.. yet.

Definately the perfect place for keeping a low profile and getting things sorted out - reassessing goals, her next move and the like. The most important question for her was if it makes any sense to go on trying to even unfinished business with certain individuals that accumulated during the years or stop by at clinique plastique and just start over – different face, different name, different ID. Let the former Pax rest in peace… no, hibernate for a few until the time’s right to show up again. Her lips curled at the impression being the wolf in sheeps clothing.

Even though Pax could have sworn she muted her comm a message came over the ether. Weak and hardly audible. “If any of you can hear me… I could really use a hand. Please.” The voice was familiar.. in a way. Her bet was on Falikos but she instantly dropped the thought, knowing she’d never lower her defenses like that - broadcasting a distress call. She’d rather die than doing just that. But a glance at the channel where the message was coming from sort of confirmed her hunch.

“Are they aware that I’m eavesdropping their channel? Is this a trick to lure me into a well laid trap? Can’t be.. Miss Phare would never pull such a stunt voluntarily ergo.. she’s really in trouble. I gotta go.. I have to see her falling from grace.. where’s my camera… and medpacks.. lots of em.. for it could be me who’ll be needing them…” Pax darted to the exit.

[Trussel]

Days became hours, hours became minutes, minutes became seconds...

Where had the time gone? Loneliness had taken me some time ago, it was all just a blur now. Looking back, all of my friends had gone in some fashion. Some were lost to the war, but many turned their swords into plowshares and left the hollowness of Rubi-Ka behind them. The few that remained became vital to my very existence, and now they are gone as well.

"So thats what brings you here? To this place?" a voice in my head questioned. No... this icy brink holds something else, I am sure of it. Even now, on the edge of sanity, I am forced to answer to why I am here... it may be the only way to truly let go. "She was here... she was supposed to be here." Falikos had been one of the few remaining friends I had, and we often walked this brink in the quiet chill. She feared the flames that would consume her, and sought this cold and barren place, to reflect and protect.

Yet, much time has passed since I last saw her. She had missed countless prearranged meetings, and had not had an active comm signal in that same time. I had stopped asking myself if she was alright a while back, and had come to accept what I felt was the inevitable. "Surely, if she went up in flames, there would be some evidence of a fire of that magnitude, somewhere." I repeatedly told myself, a false hope at the least.

I guess thats why I am here. The cold of this place would not be enough to consume me, but there were other dangers. Kneeling in the snow, I removed my helmet, and was immediately stricken by the frosty air as it compelled my lungs to shut out the very life giving breath it requested. Still, I drew in one large breath after another, unafraid of what was to come.

The horizon blurred. Sky became ground, ground rose up to meet the sky. A tear formed in the corner of my eye and froze there. "The time has come" said the voice in my head. Even it realized there was little left holding me to this mortal realm. Ever consuming, the ground continued to rise up until it blocked out the very sky itself. Penumbra itself was going to claim me in its icy grasp. As the final second approached, a light shown through the rocky sky, and a sound drift into the air, piercing the cold.

“If any of you can hear me… I could really use a hand. Please.”

Time began to slow down, seconds becoming minutes. A flash of thoughts ran through my brain, but I was unable to act, I was frozen by the sound. Instinct took over, and as the frozen tear fell from my face into the packed snow I left behind, I found myself among the Redeemed in the warmth of their garden. The portal I had forced open quickly closed behind me, leaving the frozen brink to wait yet another day to claim me.

Seconds became seconds once more. Time drift into normalcy, and I ran through the garden to the portal stones... "Hold on, I am not about to lose you again"

[Yume]

Yume sat at a small desk in her apartment staring at the two moniters, occasionally checking one of the many papers which littered the area around her. She sighed and removed her glasses, rubbing her tired eyes. "There's no end to it all..." she mumbled. "Anu, please bring me some more tea, this cup has grown cold I'm affraid." Her droid nodded slightly and walked over to the small kitchenette. She slipped her glasses back on and began reading the streams of data flowing ceaselessly across her screens. Her droid approached holding a small cup, steam rising from it's contents, and held it out for Yume to take. "Thanks Anu.." she nearly dropped the cup as her comm buzzed to life, static filled the air for a brief instance and was followed by a short, barely audible message “If any of you can hear me… I could really use a hand. Please.” . She quickly regained her composure and grabbed the cup before it tipped over far enough to spill her tea. For a few seconds she simply sat and thought, processing what had just happened, wondering if she had simply imagined it. She grabbed her mobile comm checked the Recent Contacts in an attempt to confirm what she dreaded was true. "Anu, get my coat, and run a search on that last call, try to trace it as accurately as you are able." the droid bowed and rushed downstairs to grab her coat. Her comm beeped again, this time it was Saikotik. "Kaoru, was that real?" Yume grimaced; so it wasn't just her imagination. "Yes, it was. I'm getting Anu to trace the source of the call now." "I'm on it Kaoru, just give me a location, if she needs help, it might be bad, you stay back and give me info." Yume frowned but didn't disagree, she knew Sai was correct this time. "Alright, I'm moving out with Anu to find a traceable signal, but I'll let you track her down... thanks Kitty." There was a pause, then the sound of air rushing past and footsteps filled the comm, "Of course, now hurry and get me some coords, blindly searching isn't likely to pay off anytime soon."

Saikotik rushed past another of the large bronto-esque creatures and dove into the waters of Adonis, heading for the garden statue nearest to where she had just been standing when the message had come through. She cringed and gritted her teeth as the strange water hit her body and surged into her armor through the recently created hole, seeping into the fleshwound on her abdomen and leaving a brief, hazy-red thin vapor trail of blood behind her as she swam.

[kranden]

((OOC: i was just trolling forums when i saw you post here! Fali noo why did you have to come back after i left =( sniffle i miss ya for shure ill log in one day and visit now))

[Serpentinreturns]

(Nice to see you back )

[Falikos]

(( looooong stretch at work. I'll be updating this sometime this weekend to continue the story Thanks to all who are participating, hope you continue to do so!

-Fali ))

[Falikos]

((Long time coming... ))


Black, White, and Red all over:

Red stands out like a macabre yellow-brick-road leading out from the Pipe into frozen woods. It begins slowly; white noise turning to background music, turning to a whisper of your name in a crowd. It calls to the creatures of the tundra and they know what it means. Some frightened thing has ranged its way under and around roots and stumps leaving a glittering walkway behind it in the snow. Something is dying.


Fanged Tundra Leets are among the first to show curiosity about this new path to follow; sniffing and lapping at the brighter exclamations on the ice. All the toothy grinned curiosity, combined with the savagery of survival has made them disarming scavengers. A meeting begins with three of them, nose to nose smelling the blood on each other’s lips. They say nothing but gather together in a row like ducks, padding lightly across the icy crust atop the embankment.


Through the grove of frozen oak the trail ranges, each leet rotating forward on point. Being first in line in Penumbra doesn’t mean what it does to their gentle cousins raiding a bronto stand in Newland; tasty treats may be had, but more often it can get you killed. The smell of blood is growing stronger as they rush along the hard packed snow.


The trail ends abruptly in a wash of red just over the next rise. Exposed and ruining the pristine whiteness is a fall of black hair and pale flesh. Curled on her side with her back exposed to the air, steam rises slowly as blood pours down her back in a cascade. The smallest of the little critters can’t contain his excitement at the sight of all that life spilling away to freeze in the snow and rushes forward to his meal.


A burst of flame erupts, searing hair and flesh into a blackened lump less than a yard away from his goal. His leety friends stand perfectly still, head cocked to one side watching the still form lay in the snow apparently unmoved. There is no answer in their brains for what has happened to their comrade, why he is no longer chattering and chewing his way through life. They touch noses briefly before startling suddenly. Both gap-toothed fiends skulk away quickly to hide; no reward worth the risk now, they vanish from sight.


Large black clad feet stand over the flayed body of Katelin “Falikos” Phare.

[Trussel]

A flash of light and an unexpected wave of heat spreads across tundra, and Sid aka "Trussel" knew he had finally found what he was looking for. Dashing to the source, he is met with sight he would be unable to bear if not for the adrenalin coursing through his system right now. With the Insane Clown Leets retreating to their dens, Sid holsters his firearms, and scoops up his fallen friend. She is hot to the touch, and the smell of burning fabric mixes with the smell of his burning flesh. Kate's chest labored for breath, and in the cold it was impossible to determine if she was huffing smoke or just steam with each breath.

Given past affairs with friends and foes alike, Sid decided that this had to be kept quiet until she recovered. Patching a series of tunnels through gardens back to Rubi-ka, he went to Bliss to seek out the worst doctor Rubi-ka has ever seen. In all fairness, he prefers to say that he offers his patients of variety of service levels. For modest prices, he'll pull out a few bullets and maybe get you some gauze. For a bit more, he'll use sterile tools and a clean smock. For those connected in certain communities, and a lifetime worth of credits, he will do the impossible.

Entering the shop, no words are exchanged. He takes one look at Kate, nods, and motions to the medical room. Before he can begin his shtick, Sid cuts him off and tells him "Every credit I have if you can make this right". The doc's eyes light up, and he motions to his two assistants to begin work immediately. After placing Kate on the table, one of the assistants notices the burns on Sid's forearms and offers aid, but is quickly refused, "I'll be fine, she's the one in need." A few moments later, the doc insists Sid leave the room, and after a short protest, he steps around the corner and in front of the window.

Without the oppressive cold of Penumbra, the temperature in the clinic room begins to rise rapidly. Sid begins to pace as he sees Kate begin to smolder and burn, crying out in agony as the fire inside begins to consume her. After a few moments, the doctor steps out to the waiting room, with ashen face and sweat-smeared brow, and attempts to sign his own death warrant, "I am afraid there is nothing more we can do." Sid erupts violently, pulling his sidearm to the doctor's face, "That is unacceptable. I know your reputation, I know what you can do. You *WILL* make this right!" An inner fire dances in his eyes, and the doc turns a shade of white paler than his dusted smock. He returns to the operating room, and begins to try more aggressive techniques. It quickly becomes obvious that Kate is growing tired, and can no longer hold back the inevitable flames. Sid puts his hand on the window as her expression goes from agony to panic. The explosion almost levels the building, throwing Sid to the wall.

Fire suppression systems engage, but the smoke is too thick to see anything clearly. Sid quickly helps the doc and his assistants evacuate the building, but was unable to find Kate. After the smoke clears, the doc enters his building, and returns with a box of what appears to be ash, fabric bits, and charred hair. Looking back at his shop, the doc says "She's gone. You do owe me a fair bit for lab. Looking at this account you provided, it isn't enough to cover the bill." Sid shuffles through his backpack, and pulls out a few items of value to offer in trade. He ends up losing his vintage Manex Catastrophe, a few relics from the deeper areas of the Shadowlands, and an acquisition IOU.

Sitting with the box of tattered remains, rage wells up inside of Sid's chest, until he roars with all of his might that echoes throughout Bliss for a moment or two. He begins running, retracing his steps back to Penumbra, and shouts "You wanted her, so here you go!". He launches the remains to the air, and the stiff wind receives its prize, and moves the remains around the icy tundra. After composing himself for a moment, he makes the call that he has been dreading since leaving Bliss. "Keldros? Ike, I have some bad news. I've found some traces of Falikos' blood out here in Penumbra, but her comm signal was lost, and I cant find any other trace of her." He could not possibly tell them the truth, given where he had taken her for treatment. "It looks like you will need to keep working her desk for some time longer, until we can pick up a trail again."

[Falikos]

-- On The Rocks --

Two hands wrap tightly around a high ball glass that has been used and washed so many times that is is no longer clear. The well kempt man belonging to these hands shakily raises it to his lips, whiskey running over his knuckles onto the bar. He knocks it back quickly and grimaces; it’s cheap and burns all the way down as he motions to the bartender for a second drink. Ice clinking as more amber liquid is poured in he repeats the motions.

Dribble. Drink. Blink.

It is impossible to tell what the man does for a living but it is clear from his clothes that Beer N’ Booze is probably not his usual hang-out. A white linen shirt peaks out from a fitted leather jacket, pared with freshly pressed slacks. He looks as though he just came off a transport ship, all bright and shiny before the dust of Rubi Ka settles around him.


Mack has been proprietor of the finest and only drinking establishment in Hope for many years and knows that nobody who walks through his door is there for causal chit chat. Setting the bottle of Hit The Floor Jack down in front of the slender opi he returns to polishing tumblers with a dirty rag.

The man is from this planet, lived here all his life doing triage for the clans before the battles with Omni-Tek simmered down. It shows in his hands that he once knew what it was to work hard. Reaching for the bottle in front of him he pours himself a generous glass of whiskey and sips this more slowly now that his hands are no longer shaking. Withdrawal is a bitch.

Krestin is his name; well it is now that he’s had to change it. Evidently when the clans find a doctor who can work on little sleep and still sew people up in a straight line they are reluctant to let them go. Fortunately there are many on Rubi-Ka that will eliminate all traces of who you are… for a fee. He nurses the third round, too bad they couldn’t eliminate his vices quite so easily.

It had been months since he had last touched alcohol, but this was an emergency. Stims would keep the headaches at bay but wouldn’t help him forget. He very much wanted to turn back the clock, and tell that damn fixer to **** off. That he really couldn’t help him. The offer of a challenge was too great, too tempting – and the payment was going to make it all worth it. He was wrong, and now he was well on his way to a good long drunken sulk. Private enterprise had made him a rich man, but it also meant that if it all went to **** he’d starve. His lab was a wreck, one of his assistants barely made it out before the building began to crumble, and he had nothing but an IOU for the damage.

God damned fixers. God damned nanomages. God damned Krestin.

His comm fired to life startling him mid drink, much of the liquid spilling down the front of the oh-so-white linen shirt.

“What the hell is it now?!”

“Sir, we have a body down here.”

“****. Who is it? I thought everyone was accounted for – “

“No one from the lab... It’s that woman we were workin’ on. You want us to call that Trussel and have hm get’er the hell out of here?”

Krestin’s mouth is hanging open in shock. He’s ready for another drink, but unprepared to make any sort of decision. His grip strengthens around the glass and he shoots back what remains of the whiskey in it, ice and all.

“Delay that. I want to have a look at her first. Stick her on ice and I’ll be there shortly.”

[Falikos]

Just goes to show that you never really know how life’s little quirks will play out. There are days when you’re the best damn kind of man you could be, and days where you are the worst. It’s a real shame that there isn’t a primer for how all of this works. Good guys and bad guys – who gives a sh*t. All bleeds together in the wash anyway.

He should have known that they would take him literally and found that his attendants had moved the woman to the large walk-in freezer built off the kitchen. Was a good enough idea he was surprised at himself for not thinking of it when she came in smoldering earlier. Would it of saved his lab? No, probably not… no use crying over spent credits now.

Slipping out of his leather jacket he rolls up the sleeves of his white linen shirt well past his elbows, striding over to the kitchen sink as he does so. He holds his hands under the scalding water until they are bright pink and no longer shaking from his earlier dance with death and whiskey. Picking up a white plastic knife from the counter Krestin scrapes underneath each fingernail, meticulously removing any potential contaminants. He does all of this on autopilot, his mind elsewhere as he slides his clean wet hands into protective gloves.

The high strung man who was sucking down shots of fire earlier is gone. Every movement now is smooth and sure as he steps into the freezer, door clicking quiet behind him. A man with wild red curling hair and wilder green eyes stands just inside the door holding a florescent lamp outward from his body with one hand. The light of the lamp reflects dully off of the red and black plasteel wrapping the man’s body tightly. Loreen never was terribly bright but say one thing for him; he knows how to assess a dangerous situation. If Krestin still had any credits to throw around he might think about offering him a bonus.

Damn its cold in this room and Krestin regrets briefly that he removed his coat, his breath hanging in the air as he exhales slowly. There are sweeping paths on the floor where the frost has been disturbed as boxes were hastily moved about making room for the new centerpiece of the room. Perpendicular to the doorway a large stainless steel butcher’s table is host to the body of the nanomage curled onto as if asleep. Krestin stares with his back pressed against the door a thousand thoughts running through his head.

“Did like you said Boss. Put her arse on ice, but I’m thinkin it don’t matter none.”

Krestin turns to Loreen watching the other man leer in the direction of the table. His face looks almost hungry and Krestin rethinks the man’s value – maybe it would be better, safer even, to use this opportunity to part ways with the man.

“How do you figure that exactly?” Krestin says rubbing his nose on his sleeve, the cold making it run.

With his eyes still fixed on the body at the center of the room Loreen says, “Well she ain’t moved any since we found her. Did like you asked though - got her on ice. Little thing really, she hardly weighed as much as a leet.”

“That will be all for now Loreen - well done. I will take the examination from here.”

Loreen nods a little and for the first time since Krestin entered the room Loreen looks at him as he passes off the lamp. Dragging his feet over the frost covered ground Krestin approaches the table with a death grip on the handle of the light as he makes his stilted way toward the table he begins to see the damage that has been done.

The skin of her stomach is what he notices first; all pale smoothness as his eyes travel north toward the soft V where her ribs change the terrain arching over her lungs. At the apex of the rise the damage beings; burned and charred flesh radiate as if a balrog burst forth from her to cause destruction. The veneer of medical training still in place he rests two fingers at her wrist as he leans in to her chest for a closer look at the blackened hole, her pulse is thready but present. As his head dips close a faint smell of summer barbeque wafts into his face and he stands up suddenly with eyes closed as he counts to ten. It has been years since he saw anything that has made him throw up like a first year student – but this was close.

There are similar epicenters of destruction located over her right and left wrists, and mid-thigh on each leg. At each location the blackened skin curls back like paint revealing a network of flesh and tech seamlessly integrated. The work looks vaguely familiar and he begins to probe each would with his fingertips. The implants installed have been expertly crafted and he pauses to wonder who this woman is that she can afford such luxury. Custom jobs were not uncommon but it was unusual to find anything with the precision efficiency in which these were executed. If he had any sense alarm bells would be sounding in his head, but only the sound of credit transactions are interspersed in his calculating brain.

Progressing beyond the obvious injury to her torso and limbs he takes a step back seeing for the first time clearly what no doubt had Loreen fascinated considering his – predilections. She is well proportioned and fairly beautiful despite of or perhaps because of the obvious damage done. Raven hair hangs lank and clean down one cheek before giving way to the remainder of her blackened scalp.

Her face is essentially unharmed but at her throat blossoms a necklace of blisters surrounded by darker and deeper wounds. In addition to the shining exterior of yet another implant; evidence of melted portals dot down her spine. Her exposed nakedness disturbs Krestin and forgetting all need for sanitary protocol he runs his gloved hands through his hair pushing the hazelnut strands out of his face. Through the heat damage he is unable to confirm or deny that these are original from her “birth” in a facility but suspects based on the quality of materials used that later augmentation has increased their usefulness beyond being plugged into a pod somewhere.

Quickly Krestin beings to treat the obvious burns, setting nano-programs to work to knit the flesh back together. Again as always he is fascinated by the transformation as the blackened skin beings to turn pink and close. Most of the smaller blisters heal rapidly but the programs quickly run out of energy as they attempt to take on the larger issue of fused implants and holes. He checks her vitals again this time bracing himself for the grilled smell and is pleased by the improvement.

Flipping his comm on Krestin signals Loreen back and requesting that all functioning equipment is to be set up in the kitchen and freezer. If he can get to the bottom of what happened to this woman and who she is – he may be able to make more than just a profit.

[Raijou]

A dry breeze stirred the dust in the streets of Hope as two men casually leaned against the side of the only bar in the town. The last vestige of the day's heat already fading in the long shadows cast by the buildings.

Few people lingered in the alleyways, and none paid any attention to two men speaking quietly near a bar. The shorter of the men, a wirey solitus with shaggy hair and a few day's stubble casually glanced around as he brushed some imaginary piece of lint from his pristine casual suit coat.
Inconguous as the unkempt man in fine clothing may have seemed, the second man present would be the likely object of unwanted attention. A tall solitus who looked used to physical labor but carried himself like a fighter. Doubtful that anyone would have called him pretty, even before he had gathered a few scars across his face, and that was relatively unblemished.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"So then the bronto farmer tripped over his own feet and landed right in the pile of **** he had just raked up!" Benny.
Benito Muscavar is typically a decent source of work, but does he have to pretend he's some spy in a holo? He could at least come up with a better cover than a joke. Or at least one that is slightly humorous.

"Benny, get on with it. Unless I'm already on the clock and gettin paid by the hour. If that's the case, please continue." That cleaned the smile off his face. Always so touchy, Benny.

"Fine. I have other things to do anyway." He continued to scowl, which seemed to have better results for keeping passerby out of earshot. Few people actually seek out scowling people hanging around bars in the evening. One of those lay in a heep behind some crates in a nearby cubby. They shouldn't start fights they can't win.

Raijou had been taking whatever work came his way recently. Most weeks that made for sparse income. This week it might provide a decent bounty. If Benny gets to the point.

"So the client had some unpleasant business with this jerk. He's seedy. Seedier, anyway. They tried to do some coop stuff with him. Didn't work and they got stuck with the worse of it."
Benny shifted to lean against the side of the building.
"Alright, business is that way sometimes. He got on their **** list, but hey, he'd get what he got, and he was still a decent Stitch. But someone with more infuence than I'll ever have got a bad deal. Her family got hurt in an unofficial accident that they weren't involved in, y'know?"

Benny passed a bound folder to Raijou and frowned. "She took her family member to someone quiet. Greedy little git spent so long doing some cosmetic and flesh wound stuff for his big spenders, two of her family didn't even last 'til someone else could be found."

"So a little retribution, huh?" Raijou's expression stays neutral as he asks a question to determine what kind of job this will be.

Nodding, Benny continues. "Heard a rumor on my way over, says he's taken a hit. His building was bombed, or something. Property isn't equivalent to a kid. Must've ****** somebody else off, too."

Well, he isn't dead yet, or this request would already be canceled. No point in paying people to talk about doing what's already done.

"He was here earlier, so you know. He was heading for his lab, I heard."

Still alive then. Or a zombie.

As Benny walks off looking over his shoulder every second step, Raijou begins sifting through the information in the folder he was given.

Opi. Observed to care about appearances. Decent medical training, skilled. Hiding from someone or something, if he's taken an alias. Assumed original name, or at least his prior moniker, Jervil Norcress. Currently used name, Krestin.
More data follows, but he finaly find the address of the lab. Adjusting his aviator specs, frowning slightly as he does so, Raijou tucks the folder into a bag slung over his shoulder and jogs toward the whompahs.

With so much on his mind these days, work is the only thing to keep his thoughts from overwhelming him. He hasn't slept properly, if at all, and he couldn't answer if asked what he ate that day. He was eating, usually. But now there was something to do that required little thought and more action.

With a small grin that never touches his eyes he enters the whompah.

Time to hunt.