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Post by Ilana Logan on May 2, 2012 8:34:37 GMT -5
Fenton
Gan’Zu Ji District
May 13, Persephone
4:02 P.M Local Time - 2:18 A.M - A.S.T
The moment the cargo ramp door came down, there was a jolt of heat. Persephone had been having quite a strange week for weather. Most portions were reporting periods of dry heat, while others had a windy rain dousing the streets. The Gan’Zu however had been blessed with the first, and the inhabitants of the area seemed rather dissatisfied with the way that things were. Life was already hard enough for most, and they didn’t need to know that nature itself was working against them. But things continued to move like there was nothing different. Was metallic in front of the ship, like the landing pad the ship had touched down on. The people of the Gan’Zu at least had the luxury of knowing they wouldn’t be suffering from gusts of dust from the streets blowing in all over their homes and shops, unlike some other places on the planet.
When the ship had touched down, and Alliance representative boarded the vessel, along with two soldiers. They were merely security, while they tried to verify the people that had come to Persephone. With the relief effort payment coming through from Greenleaf transports, they were trying as hard as they could to make sure that they weren’t just squandering money on greedy thugs. Unfortunately, in their haste, they hadn’t set up a very good system, so all week ships had been landing everywhere trying to get their cut of the money. Captain Fenton however had done a fairly good job of documenting his, holding a head count, and verifying them all with an official on Greenleaf before leaving. So it was a rather painless struggle to get them all approved, and to get his money. Having brought along 17 people, he made quite a generous amount, which he was very happy about.
But it was time to leave, and the crew had assisted everyone in bringing their belongings out to be taken off of the ship. As everyone brought their things outside, they all began to suffer a bit from the heat which was wrapping around them all. But there really was no way to dress for the weather on all planets. The good news being in that The Gan’Zu district wasn’t an impoverished zone, they could find air conditioning in any building they would walk in. The ships ramp stayed open, but the crew all went out their duties, and many disembarked to spend some of their money. The passengers all scattered into the streets. People walked everywhere. An air car every now and then could be seen going overhead. They weren’t very far away from the ocean, so every now and then a seagull would fly above them. Buildings of various sizes were around, but the nearest large city was about 15 miles away. The tall structures were visible, but here they were relatively small, the tallest of them about 6 stories. Signs glowed, and cortex sounds blared, but life just moved on like always did.
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Post by Marcus O'Terra on May 2, 2012 20:34:24 GMT -5
Marcus had been sleeping irregularly during most of the Journey, up till the point where Teegan suddenly disembarked. She had said much, but considering what had just happened, Marcus wasn't going to second guess her. She needed to go her own way. Maybe she'd find a path back to Virgil and the others. One could hope.
For himself, Law had kept quiet and seemed to meld with the rest of the refugees. His chats with Angel and V were brief, for the most part. They both seemed to be holding up as well as could be expected, but that was from Marcus's view point; and that was something he had come to question over the fortnight aboard the vessel.
Of all the people on board, not a one was a Shepherd or any sort of religious person. If there was ever a time he was looking for some kinda guidance...
He shook it off as the dry heat hit him. It was 2 am, but it was bright and hot. The neon of the better ends of Persephone shimmered and shone. Gan'Ju. He hadn't been here much. Still it was near his destination.
He looked to Z and Angelina. "I'm gonna go see an old... friend." The word was a bit strained but plausible in this situation. "He knows the lay of the land and might be able to find jobs or whatever you need." He looked Z in this case. "Might have info. Never know." He left it at that.
He headed out down the street through the crowd, if the women followed; that was their buisness. But he needed to get back up to speed and find a job. The food on the ship would see him till mid-day. So rations were another thing on his list....
The crowd was teeming, and many of the folk wore the same distressed look as the other refugees. He didn't even listen to see what was blaring from the news Kiosk, it would probably be written off as a terrorist attack. Another Terrorist attack anyway. He'd bothered to see how the Dominion made it into the news. The fact that Shalyx had her named dropped on public net made Marcus's skin crawl.
If she was bad enough they weren't even going to be discrete about her, did he REALLY want her remembering him as the loud mouth?
Shaking his head, he moved through the heat and continued on.
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Post by Ilana Logan on May 2, 2012 20:35:15 GMT -5
Angelina Westcraft
As expected Angie didn’t sleep much, enough to get by though and spent most of the nights in the galley. Briefly talking to some of the nameless people on the ship about nothing important. She drank a lot of coffee and managed to get some whiskey to put into the mug. Just a little to calm her nerves. She was holding up all right well as well as she had for years now, she supposed.
When Marcus came over she kind of wanted off the ship but for her own reasons didn’t want to go alone. ”I’ll come with you. If that’s all right.” She commented. And when she saw him leave she did go with him. Despite her being tired she was able to keep up with Marcus’s pace.
It was hot outside and kind of looked like a refuge camp or something. Well, so this is what happens when the world starts crashing around you.
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Post by Marcus O'Terra on May 2, 2012 20:35:45 GMT -5
Marcus nodded at Angel, but didn't wait for Rye's answer. He was feeling naked without proper gear, and his armor had gone with the mercs in the box of everything except his torn up clothes. He'd washed and mended them while back but some new threads wouldn't hurt.
He took up a brisk pace through the crowd, weaving through the people and pausing at an alley for Angelina to catch up before he crossed a block and continued on another, slightly less crowded street.
He continued until he stopped at a building with a holographic sign of a man leaning on a bag of some sort. It declared the building as "Dare's Duffel" Marcus squared his shoulders. The old man always seemed to get the drop on him when they spoke. Now wouldn't be any different.
He moved to the door and opened it. The heavy smell of cheap cigars hit him but he pressed through.
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Post by Bishop Morse on May 2, 2012 20:36:57 GMT -5
Darrel Harlon
Darrel sat in the back his shop staring at a cortex screen. He sat in a very comfortable chair. It was well lit, and there were shelves all around him with various items. The screen was bouncing to various people on the screen. They wore uniforms of either orange and red. They had a large amount of gear on and would ram into each other. An announcer was yelling in Chinese. The angle of viewing would move out and then back in. Darrel tapped a button on a control next to his chair, and the there appeared a holographic image which showed a spherical arena with the players in there different colors and smashing into each other. He leaned forward, placing a cigar that was in his fingers up into his mouth. He puffed on it and stared down at the image.
"God dammit, hit him you dumb ass." Darrel yelled at the hologram as some of the red players were chasing the orange ones. They suddenly some of the orange players turned around and they smashed into the red players. The red players collapsed and the orange players stopped and jumped up and down. The announcer started cheering, as did a lot of the other people in the audience.
Tzao gao He spat shutting off the Hologram. He stood up, and looked over at a bottle which was half empty. He started walking over to grab it, when he heard a beep, telling him someone had walked into the shop. Darrel turned and walked toward the opening to his right. There was a black curtain which blocked people from seeing in, and he moved it aside as he walked by. "Welcome to D...." He stopped seeing who'd just come in. "Lao Tyen yeh, your still alive, that's a shame" Darrel said with a bit of a laugh, remaining standing behind the counter at the front.
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Post by Marcus O'Terra on May 2, 2012 20:37:27 GMT -5
Marcus was almost relieved as the old man was still breathing to greet him. He shrugged at the man's statement. "If it's any comfort, the fault ain't my own. Death and Luck have me spinning across the verse." He closed the distance and stood at the counter, resting his palms down on the surface.
"I'm here for my locker... and any leads on jobs that pay on this rock." He'd keep it simple, and wait for the old buzzard to chew into him.
A look around the store was enough to tell him the man was still comfortably in business. He had to know someone who could hire him. There was also the matter if the Feds had or had not put a wanted poster with his face on it out on the cortex.
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Post by Bishop Morse on May 2, 2012 20:38:03 GMT -5
Darrel Harlon
The man held the cigar in his fingers, his eyes a bit beady as he sized up the person in front of him. "That's a steep set a requests I think." He said lifting up the cigar to his mouth. "Considering the fact that for two years I don't get a wave, a letter, nothin'. He started to puff on the cigar. A snide smile formed on his face. "Of course I don't take waves, and I throw away any paper that comes that isn't from the Feds." He said. He sat down on a chair that was right behind the counter.
Darrel looked over the people that had come in. He didn't know any of them, except one. He rolled back in the chair. "But speaking of paper from the Feds, I saw one the other day that looked pretty funny. Somethin' about a Marcus O'Terra being wanted for escaping Federal custody. Sounds like you've been playin' with some bad people." He said scooting around on the chair. He considered introducing himself, but he was old enough to know that he didn't care who the other people were, and the same probably applied for him.
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Post by Marcus O'Terra on May 2, 2012 20:38:26 GMT -5
Marcus felt a little guilty that he hadn't kept in touch with the old bastard. Then he remembered just because he had a certain degree of confidence in the man, didn't mean he trusted him; or liked him past tolerance.
The jab about a wanted poster struck him. "That's all though?" Escaping custody was something that, in the long run, he could eventually deal with. "Less than I might have guessed." He rolled his wrist over once and looked Darrel in the eye.
"I got credit notes that might smooth things out. Though that locker was paid in full as were its contents." He knew the old man would try and put the squeeze on him. Best have something to pad the vice.
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Post by Bishop Morse on May 2, 2012 20:39:08 GMT -5
Darrel Harlon
Darrel tapped some ash from the cigar onto a small glass tray sitting on the counter. He rolled his eyes a bit at what he considered to be dodges of the point. Darrel was aware that Marcus was getting into trouble, he’d known about it since he heard about how he bolted from the Hardtack. ”Shit Marcus, if I’d had a plan to steal your shit, I’d of emptied out that trunk.” He pointed out, moving the cigar back up to his mouth. He was serious, he was getting old, and he knew it. There was no chance for him getting rich now. Sure he took an opportunity to stay afloat where needed one, but he had no reason to screw over people in ways that he’d sometimes been accused of.
He reached under the counter and grabbed a small candy from out of a bowl and dropped it in his mouth. ”And I don’t know if there’s something more tacked on that warrant, hell I don’t even remember where I saw it. But!” He said holding a finger up. ”I know it’s real.” He said crunching down on the candy he just placed in his mouth. It was a mint flavor, and then he followed it with the brown cigar in his hand.
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Post by Marcus O'Terra on May 2, 2012 20:39:39 GMT -5
Marcus was relieved the man had been messing with him. That he could shrug off. The one thing that made him wince though was the candy followed by the cigar. It just didn't sit right with his stomach. It never had. But he put it past him.
His comment on the warrant wasn't much of a worry. He didn't doubt it would be legit. He was on an Alliance ship while it was blowing up.
"Yeah well, figures the Dominion never punched in my release papers. Bastards." It was a slip, that hole in his face was leaking again. He pinched his nose and gave the old man a steady look.
"So are you gonna let me back there to get my stuff already?" The second option was spoken with a bit of humor in his voice.
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Post by Ilana Logan on May 2, 2012 20:40:12 GMT -5
[sizez=4]Rienna Stone[/size]
Riena hovered near the doorway, she didn't want to interrupt the conversation that Marcus was having. It felt like it was getting heated. Riena was sad that Teegan had left. She had tried to convince her to stay, But she wouldn't have it. Hopefully she'd find peace.
Looking around the shop at all the stuff, eyeing different things, she soon steppe towards Marcus, hoping she could find out what the plan was.
"Do you know each other?" Riena asked, hands in her pockets. Looking at Marcus waiting for an answer.
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Post by Marcus O'Terra on May 2, 2012 20:40:38 GMT -5
Marcus paused as V moved up to him. Her question seemed a bit sarcastic. A conversation like this. but he wasn't going to waste time complaining. He turned so he could see both of them without turning his head, and found Angelina was in the fringes of his view.
"Well Vee, this is Darrel Harlon. Old Sod who flew on a boat I..... well..." He wasn't going to drag that up. "Darrel," He turned to the old man. "This is Vee. Bit of a rough sort. Good shot. Bit dangerous in a 'Hide your good whiskey' sort of way. And that" He nodded at Angel. "Is Angelina. Good gal, does wonders with engines and most tech."
He might be flattering Angelina a bit, but last he remembered she was more than a whiz-kid when it came to touching up parts and such.
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Post by Bishop Morse on May 2, 2012 20:41:15 GMT -5
Darrel Harlon
Darrel rolled his eyes when Marcus described his release from the ship that had “sunk”. He knew that it wasn’t the case, but all he really remembered was that he was wanted for escaping federal custody. He probably would have been all over the news if he had a bigger involvement in the incident then that, if he was involved there at all. His head turned quickly when he heard the blonde woman speak. When she asked if they knew each other, Darrel’s eyebrows came together. What sort of question is that. he thought to himself. No, this is how everyone’s greeted in my shop. By the way empty your money into that bag there or I’ll kill you with a wrench. He didn’t actually say of it, but he wanted to.
As Marcus went around the room, Darrel looked at each person. ”Uh huh… mhmm… He responded as each person was introduced. He puffed on the cigar as Marcus gave their introductions, and he was quick to respond when he was finished. ”I don’t care who you are.” he said matter of factly, his expression matching his stated lack of concern. ”Mainly, cus if your with him your not gonna buy nothin’, and I aint probably ever gonna see you back here again.” He said, starting to yawn as he did. It had been a long and boring days, like most were. ”But, shit, come on back, lets see if I remember where I kept your junk.” He said standing up and starting to turn around.
He walked into the room that was behind the counter. There were shelves with different sorts of things. The back room smelled as heavily of smoke as the front room did, but he didn’t notice it. There was a very comfortable looking chair facing a screen, which was now off, that not very far away from it. The carpet on the ground was a grayish brown color, with various stains on it. It didn’t go back nearly as far as the front room, but it was deceivingly large.
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Post by Marcus O'Terra on May 2, 2012 20:41:45 GMT -5
Marcus rolled his eyes at the old man's sass. It wasn't unexpected. But seriously the man could show a little appreciation for common-gorram-courtesy. Rusty old codger. Of course Marcus didn't say any of these things. That'd be a bad idea. Surprisingly enough his mouth registered this and stayed shut.
He followed the old man to the back of the store, the smokey smell felt a bit more oppressive without the fresh air from the doorway. But that was passing, if completely unimportant.
He kept his hands at his sides and his eyes on the old man. No sense making a fuss with things. He'd get his gear, and find a place to crash for the evening, then set to getting employed. In some capacity or another.
"Business been good, I take it?" He asked the old man. It was worth asking. Might be something to look into if he ever took up retirement.
The way he was going, it'd probably be a good idea.
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Post by Bishop Morse on May 2, 2012 20:42:22 GMT -5
Darrel Harlon
Darrel moved through his back room, to find a trunk somewhere in the room. He walked through, keeping his cigar between his middle and index fingers, while supporting it with his thumb, as he came up towards the back of the room. The shelves near the back were equally cluttered, and some of them had colored cloth tarps covering them. There were lamps, blankets, bulbs, recording items, in addition to dozens of other things that didn’t really seem to have anything to do with each other. When Darrel heard Marcus’s question, he did not turn around. He continued looking for the trunk. ”Business is business.” He stated. ”Most days are good, some days are bad. All depends on tax regulation in the area I think, since people start coming in here for some of their…luxury needs.” He said as he started to look around at the back.
As local authorities, matched with the federals, would take money from the people, they would turn away from the larger dealers. On top of that, Darrel dealt in a great variety of items, which were by definition luxury items. So he at no point felt as though he was soon to go out of business, or even have to think that it would happen in a month. He finally after looking around a little while, found a cluttered pile of cloth items on top of a box. ”Here it is.” He said, putting his foot on top of the box. With his shoe, he shoved off all of the cloth, and it revealed just a box, without a lock on it. Darrel just stepped back because he didn’t really have an interest in all of it.
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