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The Crossroads
Topic Started: May 7 2010, 11:19 PM (7,034 Views)
~The Boss~
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Native Son

(OOC: 'Flex, let me know if all this flies with you)

As the Grace's hatch opened, Ben and Lorrilal were greeted by someone shouting at them in a New York accent that, while not especially thick, still added that rough edge to the voice.

"You know the whole point of meeting out here is so we don't attract unwanted attention," Jimmy yelled as he and Scanlan came down the steps and towards the ship. They hadn't been expecting Ben to come in so close. "You start taking out trees and buzzin' rooftops, people tend to notice that shit."

Jimmy was dressed in a white shirt and gray slacks, neither of which were cheap. But throw in a pair of sandals, and by his standards this was dressed down. And even the sandals were made of the finest leather. Scanlan, on the other hand, wore an open Hawaiian shirt and a pair of Lone Star-themed swim trunks that had "EVERYTHING'S BIGGER IN TEXAS" splashed across the nether region.

"You must be Ben. Jim Vega. My partner, Nick Scanlan."

"Hey there, little lady," Scanlan said to Lorrilal in a friendly, though not talking-to-child voice. He knew from raising his own daughter just the right age to stop using that voice to kids. "Wanna hamburger? Got some with cheese and without."

"We can talk business later," Jimmy said, glaring at Ben through his designer shades. "Savage Henry wants to see you."

......................

Henry's office back home was decorated with all kinds of swords and blades from as many civilizations in history as he could fit. Katanas and cutlasses, broadswords and Pirate scythes. And every once in a while, so it was said, he'd take one of the swords off the wall and use it on someone.

But like the rest of the house, this was Jimmy's office. And being Jimmy, he decorated his office with guns.

They were antiques, most of them worth a college education. There was a genuine Soviet-era AK-47, complete with a bayonet. The M16, Vietnam era. He swore that if you held that rifle, you could hear the Buffalo Springfield playing off in the distance. The Thompson, the one and only Chicago Typewriter. Made him feel like a real gangster. And then the Winchester, the gun that tamed the West.

But even in here in Jimmy's inner sanctum, Henry made it his own seemingly by his presence alone. Walking inside the dimly lit office, Ben could be forgiven if he felt like it was the proverbial lion's den. The silver-maned mob boss stood looking out the picture window with his back to Ben, like a wild beast surveying his domain. Woe unto the poor creature that disturbed the mighty king of the forest.

"Sit down, son," came his gravelly voice. On the desk was an open manila folder, inside which was clearly visible those three familiar mugshots. Ben, looking as scruffy as every, and maybe a little scruffier; Trisha, her hair a gigantic mess and looking positively befuddled; and Nick giving a playful smirk to the camera.

"I've been doing a little summer reading," Henry said, turning around to face Ben. "Quite a resume you've got there."

......................

The craft sported a well-worn nameplate that, if you could make it out, said Demeter. It was built as a sewage recycling ship, and later was refurbished as a cargo ship. Then she was... renamed and recommissioned.

When the ship had docked, only a single person had exited and boarded the station; a human female wearing a bomber jacket and mirrored aviator shades. Her once long, black hair had been chopped to chin length, dyed a deep, dark red and tied back in a short ponytail. Her papers said she was captain of the Demeter.

She melted through the crowd, remaining as inconspicuous as she could be. She paid little attention to the xenos, who were more numerous here than in most of Terran space. At the moment she was far more concerned with security. She was, after all, entering a Federal outpost under false pretenses with intent to commit multiple felonies1. Perhaps it was a little extreme, but it was the only way. Besides, she was looking for a human.

Oh, she'd let others come along for the ride. They were desperate at this point. After what happened near Dasha. But she needed that one human. The doctor.

Standing over by a cat lady, two tall individuals in power armor, and another normal-sized person in a white robe, she spotted a woman who she thought looked right. She examined an old photograph taken from a college yearbook while a couple of the xenos started looking her way. Her bomber jacket and aviator shades marked her as at least a pilot, if not a captain. Which of course was entirely the point.

"Hey you!" she shouted at Alana, walking her way. "You the doc?"

(1. Apologies to the Good Doctor. May he rest in pieces)
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As Alana turned surveyed around the area, mostly out of impatience and just something she needed to to do to pass the time. She momentarily eyed the battle suit figure talking with someone else in interesting, noting how different the armor was from the Federation. technology wasn't her thing of interest, just a means to an end, and although this had been her first time up in space, she oddly didn't feel excited about being here as she had initially planned.

Actually, he was a bit nervous. While Alana wasn't squeamish and didn't fright easily, guns and violence weren't her cup of tea. She was quite anxious for the ship to arrive, and although there didn't appear to be any hostile looking figures, some of them did look a bit shady. in particular, the ones with the cloaks put her on edge a bit, if only, out of the corner of her eye, one of them had given her an odd look.

Then, to some of her relief, someone called to her. She eyed the person, noting that she was certainly part of a ship, though she couldn't quite place her character. She might of had a good eye for guessing who someone was like, but she wasn't that good, and she had no experience with people working on a ship.

"Well, I'm a doctor, yes, but I have no idea if I'm the doctor you want," she replied with a wry smile. "I would be Alana Kensinka, if that's who you're looking for."
"I believe that the human spirit is indomitable. If you endeavor to achieve, it will happen given enough resolve. It may not be immediate, and often your greater dreams is something you will not achieve within your own lifetime. The effort you put forth to anything transcends yourself, for there is no futility even in death."
— Monty Oum
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~DarkKnightCuron~
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[ *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Z'Gato growled again when the Chozo emissary noticed him. The last thing on Z'Gato's mind was a 'conversation', even though he was inherently curious. Their race was dead, and for the good reason of not being able to survive the harsh reality of the galaxy. What did he have to gain, then, by meeting another of his weak kin? Z'Gato's thoughts were at an impasse at this moment, unsure of where to go from here.

His anger lingered, yet deep down, it was comforting, in some small way, to see another Chozo alive and well.

'If only for the time being,' He thought humorlessly. He risked a shallow nod to the Chozo in robes, but stayed where he stood, his armor betraying little emotion, other than his body language, which still mirrored Z'Gato's annoyance.
Marching to the Black Gates...
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~DJChilllyPhil~
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Too bad@$$ to have a FACE?! Maybe...
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
"...Heh..."

*It seems that Kalos was still not the only Chozo to be wandering the stars. Either way it seems like this one wasn't in a mood to talk, so the old bird continued to make his way towards the center of the station, hoping to find what he was looking for.*

"...You never know what you will find..."

*After a minute, he came upon an information directory terminal. Smiling at his turn of good luck, he leaned his spear against the wall next to the terminal and began to type through the different displays and information.*

"Ah... I have to go there then..."

*Kalos had indeed found where to find his supplies, but he continued to poke through the different maps, checking to see what else the station had to offer...*
"Listen well! I'll stand on top of all living things! I am now a new creature that cuts open the future!"
"Weakling, Weakling!"
"It's useless useless USELESS!"
"WRYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!"
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~beflexor~
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I just _____ in the _____.

"Sorry" Ben replied, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm not used to landing this thing planetside these days."

In comparison with the men's appearance, Ben looked downright homeless. His shirt was grimy, the original color having faded to a brownish-grey, and it was full of small holes. His pants were grease stained and worn at the bottoms.

Lorrilal wore an adult size shirt on her small frame like a dress and nothing else. She craned her head up to look at Nick Scanlan. "You're tall," she said matter-of-factly, though her mouth quirked in a small, almost shy smile at one corner. "My mother was tall. about ten inches taller than you even."

Ben turned to her, his expression concerned. He was beginning to regret coming here, especially with Lorrilal, when she spoke again.

"Yes Mister Scanlan, I would very much like you eat with you. We haven't had cheese in a long time," she tilted her head to one side. "We haven't had food in a long time either."

Then, she laughed.

It was quiet and soft, but it was pleasant.

Ben immediately turned to the two men, "I swear it's not as bad as it sounds. She, ah, she photosynthesizes when she doesn't have food. Even then, we really do have food." Ketchup was food. "Lori, stay here, I'm going inside to chat for a while, okay? Don't...don't touch the plants."

She nodded, then smiled again at Scanlan. It was apparent that he had gained her trust quickly. "I don't think he realizes who babysits whom sometimes. He goes by Benjamin Phoenix you know. It's not his official last name on the Galactic Federation, he doesn't legally have one actually. His mother was a single-name servant and his father was sent through an airlock for attempted mutiny aboard a nameless ship when his mother was six months along with him. The name Phoenix was given to him by a group of people no one ever knew existed, and after he really did die, not one of those fake attempts."

Ben groaned, hearing the first half of Lorrilal's tattletale. Obvious punishment for trying to tell her what to do. This was going to be a long trip.

She was forgotten the moment he stepped inside.

"Holy sh...sheep," he breathed, seeing the weapons. No matter how many there were however, they were simply objects. It took a user for them to become what people feared, and Ben knew that every single one of these could be used to their fullest potential by the man in the room.

When Henry told him to sit down it was as though his legs suddenly gave out from under him and he half collapsed into a chair. When he saw the folder, his heart began to race.

It was a mistake coming here, Ben thought as the depth of the situation hit him. I should have left Lori somewhere I should have...should have... He looked up, about to voice as much.

Instead he said "Do you guys have a cat you don't need anymore?"

~

Nick gave a small start when someone called out for a doctor. He froze, thinking he had been identified, only to breathe an audible sigh of relief once he realized they'd meant the woman.

The others were starting to get to him.

He was invisible though, not in the technological sense with electronic cloaking, nor the natural with camouflage, but rather in the psyche. No one paid attention to the short, young man with his minimal appearance. He became like a chair, or a garbage bin. One other thing to pass by from point A to point B. Seen only long enough not to run into and then immediately discarded from short term memory as soon as he passed from view. This situation only helped more so. Two Chozo, one he thought he might have recognized even, were the ones people tended to look at.

With that in mind Nick opened the metal box he carried and pulled out a small vial not unlike the one that hung from his neck. Its contents looked much different however. Sickly green liquid churned inside, punctuated with tiny yellow flecks. Nick slid the vial down his leg so that it landed quietly on the floor before he crushed it beneath his feet, the glass breaking with a faint crunch and releasing the contents.

Dozens of the same vials remained inside the box he held. They would be put to good use aboard the ship. Still, one less wouldn't hurt if it meant spreading it here.

After all, it was for a good cause...
Someone made the mistake of letting me publish a book, check Dusted Here!
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Native Son

(UPDATE: Okay, so got the rest of this post complete. Little wordy, I know, and that's cause I cut it short.)

Not many people would guess that Nick Scanlan was good with kids. Not this cigar-chomping Leatherneck whose main function in life was to cause pain to people Henry and Jimmy didn't like - and yes, every once in a while, chuck somebody out an airlock. However, he had basically raised Casey all by himself, so he knew how it was done. He very quickly discovered that the line between bruiser and teddy bear was actually pretty blurry, and after sixteen years of honing his skills, the transition was seamless.

He served Lorrilal a cheeseburger and gave her a plate full of fixings so she could dress it up how she liked it, along with some potato chips and a soda. After grabbing himself a beer, he fixed himself a burger piled high with jalapenos and sat down across from Lorrilal.

She was a strange little girl, no doubt about that, though he suspected there was a reason. While he hadn't gone through the infamous File himself, he'd gotten the meat of it second hand from Jimmy. The details were sketchy, but what it boiled down to was that Ben was the only one of the crew who was one hundred percent human.

"You know, she ain't a bad lookin' ship," he said, finding himself studying the Grace. She'd obviously been through the meat grinder more than a few times, and while he didn't see anything held together with duct tape on the outside, that didn't necessarily mean that there wasn't any on the inside. She flew rickety too, coughing up smoke and shaking like a chihuahua on crystal meth. And yet... she had something about her. Soul, they called it. Most old ships like her did.

"We could pro'ly fix her up some. Get some guys to patch up that hull damage. Me 'n Ronnie can work on the engine, get that reactor cleaned up. She pro'ly need lots o' wiring done too. Maybe upgrade the FTL. And I betcha the converter coil always busts on ya too, don't it?"

.........................

"Well, I'm a doctor, yes, but I have no idea if I'm the doctor you want. I would be Alana Kensinka, if that's who you're looking for."

The woman in the bomber jacket held up the photo next to Alana's face. Satisfied, she stuffed it back into her pocket. "Beautiful, you're hired. Name's Finn," she said, enthusiastically shaking Alana's hand. "Captain of the Demeter. Hope you're as good as they say you are."

There was something ominous in that last statement. Finn said nothing for a moment, and looked around the area nervously. She barely registered anything, and to Alana she might seem a bit agitated.

"You ready to go? We're on a tight schedule here. I'm just picking up a couple hired hands and maybe a passenger or two then I'm out of here."

.........................

"...Do you guys have a cat you don't need anymore?"

Henry let out a soft chuckle, if for no other reason than it was just about the oddest question he'd ever been asked and he didn't know quite how to respond to it.

"A cat... no, can't say that we do. We have a fox." He turned around a photo frame on the desk to show Ben a picture of a young dark haired woman in an old faded baseball cap and a young man who from the look of him was likely Vega's younger brother. Henry pointed to the girl. "That one. Silly little nickname she thought up for herself. Started out as a joke that got out of hand, I believe."

He wandered over to the wet bar on one side of the office. Most of the bottles were bourbon whiskey, with a couple bottles of fine tequila that was Scanlan's favorite; Grace's gin and brandy, Ronnie's absinthe; vodka for Bloody Marys along with the appropriate mix; and a bottle of single malt scotch that nobody was allowed to touch. That bottle was Henry's.

"I took her in when she was only fifteen," Henry continued, getting two glasses with ice and opening up the scotch, talking as he poured the drinks. "Taught her... everything. Love her like she was my own daughter. Which is funny because my own daughter hates me."

He handed one of the glasses to Ben and settled into the leather chair behind the desk. "We rarely speak. Usually only when she sobers up enough to remember to come see her kids. And even then, all she says to me is go fuck yourself. Right in front of her boys, too." He sipped his drink and lit a cigarette, offering one to Ben as well. He didn't know whether Ben would accept, but it be rude not to offer. "My relationship with my son is a little better. He joined the priesthood. Can you believe that? Twenty year old kid deciding he needs to do the Lord's work. I can't fault him for that, though. I'm proud of him actually. He's a better man than I am. We're on speaking terms at least but... well, let's just say he's praying for me.

"So that's my flesh and blood. Now, Miss Grace here, she'd walk through fire if I asked her to. Now understand we're talking about a girl who's never taken orders from anyone in her life.

"The reason I'm telling you all of this is because... well, because I think you can understand. Because your family is the people in those photos. Only they're all gone now, and that little girl out there is all that's left."
Edited by The Boss, May 28 2010, 02:20 AM.
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Alana felt a mixture of relief and insecurity as she shook hands with Finn. She admired other strong woman and was glad to be taken onto a ship by such a captain; not that she wouldn't have accepted a man either way. But as they shook, she felt something was amiss, and it bothered her. She could tell the was captain agitated; and while she had little experience off-world, she doubted it was from a strict schedule.

But she honestly couldn't guess what it might be and figured it she was being paranoid; and as thus, she only gave Finn a hesitant nod, "Yes, I've been waiting for almost an hours to leave. Everything is pretty well packed."

However, as she lifted her stuff and followed, she felt a nagging sensation in the back of her mind; and while she thought it might be overkill, it was best of her to check. "W-wait," she said, "hold up a minute. Can I at least see your credentials and see if they match with the ones I've been told to meat?"
"I believe that the human spirit is indomitable. If you endeavor to achieve, it will happen given enough resolve. It may not be immediate, and often your greater dreams is something you will not achieve within your own lifetime. The effort you put forth to anything transcends yourself, for there is no futility even in death."
— Monty Oum
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~DJChilllyPhil~
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Too bad@$$ to have a FACE?! Maybe...
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
*After Kalos had gone into the bowels of the station, he emerged carrying a box on his shoulder, the staff hanging on his back as he made his way back towards where the ships were docked.*

"Well... That was easy enough..."

*As he continued to walk, he slowed down, his face contorting slightly as he sensed something in the air.*

"Mmm?... What is that smell?..."

*The Chozo looked around quickly for a moment, not seeing anything out of the ordinary at first. He inwardly shrugged and brought up his pace, his eyes soon coming upon that figure once again: The one in Chozo armor.*

"...Hm..."

*Kalos smiled as he thought of something to maybe brighten his mood. He lifted the box up onto his shoulder as he then walked up behind the armored figure, dropping the box down on the ground with an audible thump before speaking.*

"Now, aren't you supposed to help your elders when they're involved in physically demanding activities like this? Heh heh ha..."

*He straightened himself up as he then looked at the other bird, smiling*

"...Or is it because of something else, hm?"
"Listen well! I'll stand on top of all living things! I am now a new creature that cuts open the future!"
"Weakling, Weakling!"
"It's useless useless USELESS!"
"WRYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!"
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[ *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Z'Gato turned abruptly as he heard the loud noise behind him, about ready to slice someone's head off, but having the sense not to activate his energy blade. His focused on the figure, the other Chozo he had seen earlier. Upon mention of helping with physical activity, Z'Gato scoffed.

"Has strength left you so much that you need help with that small thing?" Z'Gato provoked, squaring his shoulders. "I am waiting for my ship to be repaired so that I may leave this station and find another Bounty to hunt, I didn't come here to be someone's errand boy."
Marching to the Black Gates...
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Too bad@$$ to have a FACE?! Maybe...
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
*Kalos couldn't help but start laughing at how the younger Chozo reacted, smiling as he began to speak once again*

"I was only joking!..."

*To show his point, he swiftly picked up the box and lifted it onto his shoulder*

"..."

*Kalos sniffed the air a bit, shaking his head quickly afterward.*

"Bah... Hm..."

*He looked back at the younger Chozo, tilting his head slightly*

"...Is it just me or is there some strange...stink in the air?..."
"Listen well! I'll stand on top of all living things! I am now a new creature that cuts open the future!"
"Weakling, Weakling!"
"It's useless useless USELESS!"
"WRYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!"
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