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Post by Marcus O'Terra on May 6, 2012 11:40:37 GMT -5
Town of Luōbótèzhèn
June 19, 2517 - Rea
12:36 PM Local Time
9:19 P.M A.S.T
Marcus walked though the town with a purpose to his step. He'd gotten the gist of the man he was looking for from Guy. He'd also been given directions to where he'd be, by a Panda statue in the center of town. What the hell a panda was, Marcus could barely recall. Some Earth-that-was critter that the core folk had resurrected with their fancy science to delight students who wanted to gawk at some big awkward creature that had no business being on that planet.
Course that was true of everyone and every thing in the 'Verse at this point.
He shook his head and pulled the black gloves on his hands tight. The crew had found masks and gloves a plenty in the ship. That part of their plan was assured. Once he met up with this "Grif" fellow, he'd case the joint, from a distance and meet up with Tai Minh, before the monk parted from the path.
Shame, he liked the idea of a 'shepherd' being on his boat. Seemed like good luck.
Easy come; easy go. So it was.
He reached the center of town and saw, indeed, a man sitting at the statue of the large bearish creature. He approached, skeptical of the man he saw.
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Post by Bishop Morse on May 6, 2012 11:49:45 GMT -5
Griffin
The sun beat down on everything. Few planets could ever be completely exempt from such things. The way life was on a planet and it’s contrast with others could typically be judged simply by it’s weather. The temperate climate and comfort remained in the center of the universe, in the densely packed places. So many people flocked and lived there to have a better life for themselves. And who could blame them? They had the easiest living, of wealth, and lack of poverty. It was one thing to live poor, but it was another thing to live poor and not have to work hard. That was the many saw the Central Planets anyway, since the parliament took care of what was right in front of them. Then there were the border worlds and the rim. The border had a better weather and things then the rim did in some ways, but the only real difference between the border and the rim was the amount of people that lived in on one. Of course that wasn’t even true in some cases, so it was really just proximity to things that they generally didn’t like in the first place. But no matter where you went, the sun would always beat down.
The dirt wasn’t a comfortable thing for many people, but so many people found their home on top of it. And one such person who declared it their home at that moment wore a long blue coat and a dismal frown on his face. He had his back against a stone statue of a panda bear. Where the be bear also was sitting and had a pleasant look on it’s face as it chewed on a hard and pale stick of bamboo, this man leaned against the square base which the statue sat on, with a look of someone who’d had the hell beaten out of them. It was clear that his coat was blue, but it was covered in a layer of brown dirt and mud. The statue did cast a shadow which would provide shade, but the man was not sitting underneath that. He had the sun hitting him hard down. He pulled his right leg in a bit, and scratched his knee just above a holster from out of which stemmed the handle of what was a small shotgun.
He leaned his head back against the statue and began to babble some words out. ”Running sky, running sky, see me sore, and see me fly. Have a glass and beat the pass, and get a move on before you die.” It was a song that he was spitting out in a sort of bored pathetic way of passing the time. He had no music to back it up, and his singing voice wasn’t very good, especially not in the state he was in. But with what he was doing, no one really needed a good voice, it was just for themselves. He wasn’t terribly loud, he was just laid there, with his hands beside him.
In front of him appeared a man. He didn’t know him, and his eyes were locked on him as he came walking up. The man in the blue coat looked away again and went back to his thoughts but he realized that this man approaching him was coming up to him. The man in the blue coat just looked up at him. ”What.” He said bitterly, not really asking, but seeming more as a defensive thing to intimidate people into leaving him alone to wallow in what appeared to be his self inflicted misery. The man in the blue coat didn’t smell bad, in fact he had the scent of sweet apples coming off of him, which seemed to run very contradictory to the fact that he was utterly filthy.
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Post by Marcus O'Terra on May 6, 2012 11:50:04 GMT -5
Marcus caught the man's little poem on his approach, and smiled inside. So I WILL have someone spouting lovely little nonsenses at appropriate intervals... shiny... But he kept his 'business' frown on. No time for pleasentries.
The man said 'what' but it wasn't a question. Marcus let a beat pass before he spoke.
"You're Griffin." Marcus said, there really wasn't much doubt on that. "I'm Guy's employer." He abstained from using 'Captain' this time, wasn't sure how it would go over with this one. "So hop to. Job's awaiting."
He kept his arms at his side, noted the man's shotgun, his dirty state, and the sweet smell...
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Post by Bishop Morse on May 6, 2012 11:54:17 GMT -5
Griffin
The man declared that he was Griffin, the man in the blue coat looked down at himself. It was as if he was questioning whether or not he was Griffin. Then after a moment of wondering that he got a sort of disgust in his head. Who was this man to make such assumptions! But then he mentioned that he was the one who Hughes was with. He didn’t really move much in a threatening way, or at all for that matter. He just looked up at the man who was standing over him. The man in the blue coat blinked slowly, as if he was just waking up from sleeping, but he was wide awake, or at least somewhere close to it. He still had elements of the first bit running through his head, holding a made up grudge when nothing had been done wrong. In this stint of dwindled pride, the man in the blue coat began to get his feet the moment after the man had finished his last words.
”That’s Lieutenant Commander, to you!” he spat bitterly as he used the base of the statue to get up on his feet. Some clinking and jingling could be heard as he got to his feet, like he had a lot of coins and metal things scattered in his pockets and pouches. He stood up and looked forward. He didn’t see the man who had been standing in front of him. His eyes shifted left, and then right quickly, as he wondered where he’d gone in such a hurry. Then he looked down. This man did not come close to the blue coats six foot stature. ”you dismal…” He started trailing off. ”little….” As he spoke it was as if he had no idea what he was saying or what he was going off of. Like the point had been there but then had ceased to exist. But there really was no point or punch line, just the words.
The man in the blue coat looked him over. He recognized his type. Seemingly confident, proud being, and wearing his relatively clean brown coat, countering greatly with his own. He knew well what this sort of person was, but also didn’t really care. He tried to find something that he could use to finish what he was saying, his eyebrows going up and down ever so slightly as he brought them into focus. His face then went into a state of sullied aggression to aggravated confusion. He didn’t have really any idea who this was, as he’d never seen him before.”… who are you?” He said to himself while beginning to lean against the statue behind him. There was a slight metallic ‘tink’, as a long object that was wrapped on his back, which was evidently metal in nature, hit against the stone.
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Post by Marcus O'Terra on May 6, 2012 11:57:00 GMT -5
When the man spoke, indignantly now, about being a 'lieutenant commander'. Well, that was interesting. To be sure. But irrelevant to the situation.
The man stood up and then did something that Marcus hadn't experienced in a while. He pinched the bridge of his nose for a moment as Griffin realized that Marcus was shorter than himself. Then came the insults. Marcus wouldn't deny he was short, but did he really seem 'dismal'? That was hardly fair considering what'd the last half of the year had thrown at him.
Backstabbing clients, Incarceration and Interrogation, Treasonous Charges, Reavers, Burts; not a good year to be Marcus. Though he was still breathing through it all. That was something.
"You can call me Marcus. Being as that's my name." His voice was steady, calm. Sort of tone you used when addressing someone looking to you for work. He'd heard it enough times doing merc work to know the tone.
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Post by Bishop Morse on May 6, 2012 11:59:15 GMT -5
Griffin
The man in the blue coat started to drift in his own mind. He began to think about bits of dust that he saw floating through the air as the wind kicked them up. Even if it wasn’t very much, it still was there and he went towards that. It took only a moment for him to get his focus back. Though this had come right after a question he had asked himself, he’d forgotten that had happened in that moment. His coming back to the reality of things came when his question was answered. He didn’t recall quite what he had just asked as he had blanked out, but he got the gist of it when the man mentioned his name.
He still didn’t have the slightest idea who this person was, and couldn’t recall it ever being mentioned. But his arrival to this place wasn’t exactly normal when compared to other peoples. Unusually, he actually had a reason for being there at that point in time, which he was slowly coming to remember. But the trip in had been a rather difficult sort of thing and that was something that he was still recovering, in a matter of speaking, from it. Of course he hadn’t really suffered any physical harm, he spent most of the time asleep. But that was beside the point.
He seemed to recognize the situation that he was in and was slowly coming to a more steady grasp of the world around him. Rather then the confused babbling thing that he’d been on the ground, he seemed to have a more serious yet sour look about him. He remained leaning against the wall. ”… well Marcus” He started placing a bit emphasis on the name. ”In my haste and desperation to find employment, I didn’t ask in the most thorough of ways where it is that you’re going… or what you’re doing.” He seemed to have a real sort of confusion about that, but not an uneasiness that would suggest he was incapable of doing whatever he was told he could.
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Post by Marcus O'Terra on May 6, 2012 11:59:49 GMT -5
Marcus watched as the man gathered his senses, and it Marcus started to think the man might be drunk. It could explain the smell. Maybe. He let the man ask his question and looked around. It was the middle of the day, and hot. Few people were outside milling about, and none of them were focused on these men.
"You see the big estate on the edge of town? We're hitting that. In a about an hour." He said in a low tones. "We do a little scouting on the way back to my ship, size the place up; I'll fill you in on the rest of the plan on the way." He gestured over his shoulder again. "So you coming with?"
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Post by Bishop Morse on May 6, 2012 12:00:56 GMT -5
Griffin
The man in the beard scratched at his face, itching the beard that was formed around his cheeks and next. He blinked a bit slowly as he still seemed be getting the spirit of moving back into him. He’d been sitting on the ground for quite some time, so his body was still feeling a bit still. He straightened his back to stretch it. He felt a few cracks and snaps occur as he did, but not painful or audible. He looked around for the mansion that the man was referring to. The man in the blue coat had not been inside of the town for a very long time, and hadn’t spent almost any of it studying the layout of it. He wasn’t going to stay there long so he didn’t care in the slightest about where things were.
”No…” He said in response to the question of whether or not he saw it. The sun was in his eyes and couldn’t see much of anything. He closed his eyes hard and then opened his eyes wide as he looked out. He saw at a rather far off point a very large looking house in the direction the man was referring to. ”…yes.” he said finally seeing it. He put his hand to his forehead to help block the sun and kept it there. He continued to look at it as the man continued to speak.
The man didn’t seem to entirely grasp the idea of scouting, at least not with something like this. His eyebrows came together. He’d done this sort of thing before, but didn’t really need to bother very often with longer preparations then what it took to get to the door. Then the man mentioned a ship. The last ship he’d been on wasn’t very large, and he’d spent a great amount of time on it in a box asleep. ”…ship?” the man in the blue coat asked still standing looking at the house. As he brought his arm down, he found the man that found him walking away. So the man in the blue coat straightened up what he had on, though not very well, and put his right foot forward. ”… What do you think they have in there.” The man in the blue coat said reaching into a pouch on his belt and grabbed a small metal container. He unscrewed the top and began to take a drink from it.
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Post by Marcus O'Terra on May 6, 2012 12:01:22 GMT -5
Marcus only looked over his shoulder. "Not entirely sure. But the fun in opening gifts is not knowing what's inside, no?" He assumed the man was talking about the mansion, what else would he be asking about. There was nothing of much interest in the town, though it bordered on being called a 'village' if anything else.
He led Griffin through the town, toward where he would met Tai Minh and retrieve the omnigrabber. It was a few hours before the job would go down. They'd give a look over the mansion as they passed in the meantime.
(ooc:And that should be that. To be continued/concluded in The Estate Job Part 2)
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