Techn0geist

IC: Sohmak - Spineless Bay, Fortress Razorfish;Vaa The look of gormless confusion had just started to settle on Sohmak's face before he broke into echoing laughter. He had been got, by his past self no less! "Hooo, an' that's why you're the brains runnin' this show. Nah, you mus' be a special kinda geek 'cause I can stand ya, anyone else's gettin' walloped for that smart alec stuff." All spoken through a big grin, big by Skakdi standards even. OOC: @Nato G

IC: Sohmak - Spineless Bay, Fortress Razorfish;Vaa "Screw the Sluggers," he interjected, his eyes suddenly ablaze. "If you gotta break 'em, break 'em. Break 'em to a million bloody bits." Sohmak shook his head, as if shaking his fervour loose. "Look, you know how I made my name in the city. With hands I ain't seen in weeks. I'll do the same out 'ere. These damn mittens are for pissants and geeks anyway—" the sudden stop revealing what he sought to obscure as he flailed to recover. "...geeks like Syn-tak," he over-enunciated. OOC: @Nato G

IC: Sohmak - Spineless Bay, Fortress Razorfish;Vaa An uncomfortable pause filled the air between them. "...right... well, we'll uhh... do all we can without 'splosives first. I'd sorta prefer to keep my arms if possible. Kinda 'ttached to them." Of course he immediately leapt to the worst case scenario, reading between the lines of T'harrak's statement; no arms meant no Sohmak after all. "A geek's a geek though, right? Anyone on this rock can figure it out, it's you." A rare show of respect for the Intellectual class of Zakaz. OOC: @Nato G sorry again for the wait

IC: Sohmak - Spineless Bay, Fortress Razorfish;Vaa "'xactly! Somethin' for the lads to look forward to. Keep their spirits up, an' keep 'em fighting fit." Not that he needed much help with that, of course. "I'll get to work on organi-nising once you reckon we're close to done with the upgrades." Pivoting without so much as a breath, "Ay, you had any more ideas about gettin' these things off? Sohmak queried, looking around before lifting the Sluggers up to ensure no one's torso would be annihilated. OOC: @Nato G

IC: Sohmak - Spineless Bay, Fortress Razorfish;Vaa A sigh cleared the fighter's lips the moment Jojax passed the courtyard's gates. "I knew 'er ol' man," he exhaled, his body taut but relieved to have a moment's rest. "Might've already mentioned. Fearsome rotter." Sohmak shook some tension out of his arms and started stretching them. "In every sense. Makes sense why she 'as such a big chip on 'er shoulder. Sarke's meant to help blow off steam but it's the core of 'er worry." A lightstone moment. "Let's do a Sarke night. Once we got all this fort stuff out of the way, 'course, an' we're a little... safer. Might help Jojax 'member how fun it's meant to be. No dad loomin', no Bloody Devil hauntin' 'er." "An' face it," he added with a grin, "this place ain't look like it's seen proper Sarke for a time. You lot need a big city brawler to show you how it's done." His hands itched in the depths of the Sluggers once more, unclear now if the scheme was more for Jojax's sake, the fortress's, or his own. OOC: @Smudge8 @Nato G

IC: Sohmak - Spineless Bay, Fortress Razorfish;Vaa "Damn right I am," he replied, his smirk becoming a grin, which quickly evaporated as he addressed Jojax again. "Kuuwe," he ordered Jojax, slipping into Old Skak:Dii. Go. OOC: @Nato G @Smudge8

IC: Sohmak - Spineless Bay, Fortress Razorfish;Vaa "You're out lugging trees an' rocks with the next two shifts," he said without hesitation, and a smirk in return. "Figure that strength o' yours will make it feel like just one, right?" Sohmak stepped back, bringing T'harrak back into the fold. "Right, geek?" OOC: @Smudge8 @Nato G

IC: Sohmak - Spineless Bay, Fortress Razorfish;Vaa He wasn't about to correct her, knowing how right she unknowingly was about who was calling the shots. T'harrak was also right, everyone was too tense around here. Sohmak was too tense. "Yeah, there is somethin' else..." he stepped forward between the two women, standing fighter-to-fighter with Jojax now. "You ever 'ave any 'angups 'bout that Bloody mask, what it means to ya... bring 'em to me. Don't make it no one else's problem, savvy?" She was a scrappy dog alright, but it helps everyone to throw a dog a bone. OOC: @Smudge8 @Nato G

OOC: flashback sounds IC: Mard & Ahmoa - Training Ground, outskirts of Atero Mard was momentarily stunned by Lorqua's words. He would cling to that feeling, the knowing that someone else in this great violent world at least somewhat believed in what the two Agori stood for, for many nights to come. Don't give up on it "You uhh... you don't have to tell me twice!" Mard yelled to the Glatorian's salutation, responding to her myriad kindnesses simultaneously. "And likewise, Miss Lorqua!" Lutenus's outburst, meanwhile, had chilled Ahmoa's blood, and made the already comparatively diminutive Agori feel utterly small. Collecting himself quickly, he tried hard to remove any quiver from his voice. "Now comes my turn to apologise, Lutenus. It was not my intent to... reduce your station. I am certain any task or passion you choose to turn your hand to would be a great boon to Tesara." Lorqua's arrival proved a most welcome respite. "Quite right, we shan't keep you any longer. It would be a shame of the highest degree were you two to miss the opening!" Ahmoa, joined by Mard, offered a short bow to the pair. "Sir, ma'am. Travel safe, and may you grace our humble grounds once more." "Oh, and if you see our manager, tell him I said—" ------------------------------------------ "I like Lorqua!" Mard spoke through a mouthful of dessert, now openly shared with his partner by the firepit. "She's got an eye for the arts! Oh! D'you think she knows In Some Other Sky?" "I suspect her interest in our craft is, like many, passing at best, my dear." Ahmoa replied, swallowing first. "Lost musicals don't tend to fall into the purview of our fellow denizens." "Shoulda asked, darn..." the Jungle Agori picked up a pebble and tossed it into the fire. "Did you tell Lutenus anything? About Del?" "As little as I could. He was... changeable." Ahmoa turned to meet Mard's eye. "And what he told me troubles me deeply. 'All communication with the Iron Tribe has abruptly ceased,' that's what he said." "Woah, Ferrum's gone dark? The whole village?" On reflection, the both of them realised they hadn't seen many Iron Tribals in this lull between seasons, if any. "But... what does that mean? They can't have just up and vanished, right? I mean, Del made it out here." "But not unscathed. If Del's behaviour, their near-total amnesia, is the best case scenario, then..." and then Ahmoa realised he didn't know how to end the sentence. Or perhaps he feared that by ending it, by speaking whatever frightful ideas he had about the fate of Ferrum into the world, that they would be invoked, manifested into terrible being. In either case, the lack of an end seemed as good an end as any. The two looked out, beyond the fence of the grounds, beyond the edge of Atero. Out into black dunes below and dazzling starfield above. And Ahmoa's dulcet voice carried so so far on the whistling desert winds. Sit down, sit down on the prow to wave bye, There might not be another star, further on the line. Look out, look out at each town that glides by, And there's another crowd to drown in crying eyes. And see how, Mard joined, that light you love now just won't shine, There might just be another star, that's high and far in some other sky. IC: Del - Celrys's Workshop, Tajun - the night before On account of every hotel, motel, inn, tavern etc. in Tajun being booked out ahead of tomorrow’s Grand Tournament opening, Del was offered to stay in Celrys’s clinic for the night. As generous as Skyra Daring’s counteroffer of crashing in the backseat of her buggy was, Del ultimately chose the clinic. The artificer having retired some time ago, the Glatorian took up the reclining chair in the surgery room, having already tried the metal slab and finding it wanting. Only a soft light emanating from the aquarium illuminated the room, gentle ripples playing across the ceiling. It was entirely too quiet. Del first observed the fish, cataloguing the tank’s shimmering and mesmerising contents to satisfaction. Next were the surgical tools; the smaller ones taken delicately between thumb and forefinger, examined in a strange reversal of roles, and replaced exactly. A trigger depressed, a drill dropped in alarm and replaced haphazardly. Eyes bounced between dust motes, hanging vacantly in the air above Del as they lay back in the chair. Celrys kept a tidy workspace, but in this world fighting the incursion of dust and sand was akin to fighting entropy: futile. This made the low quantity of particles all the more notable to the Ferrumite. Queries abounded, on the matters of fish, drills and dust. But Del had ultimately been told to rest, ahead of the diagnostics Celrys would be running tomorrow. The Iron Tribal squirmed as they struggled to get fully comfortable. They pondered the basic but soft beds in the bunk house in Atero, with Mard & Ahmoa. They pondered Mard, the contagion of his mirth, the symptom of his unmistakable laugh. How he had recoiled on hearing Del’s first pitiable attempt at laughter, scolded himself, promised to help them practice and laughed all over again. They pondered Ahmoa, the invitation of his warm smile, his gentleness and generosity and patience. How he had never given up on teaching Del even the most basic principles, not just what to do but how to be. The clear and unabashed affection the both of them held for anyone lucky enough to be called ‘friend’ by them. The deep, almost familial bond they shared with the Glatorian. “He’s your father I suppose.” Del said to no one. It was entirely too quiet. A hand hovered over the table to their side and without looking, its precise placement perfectly recalled, picked up Celrys’s stethoscope. Again they slid the buds underneath their helmet, fans running at minimal speed. Knowing now what to expect, the Glatorian calmly lay the glass disk against their chest. Thu-thum… thu-thum… thu-thum… The sound, the steady metronome of life at ease, soothed and reassured Del. Eyelids slowly closed and unconsciousness took hold. Yet, the experience of these liminal moments was beyond that of the typical Glatorian or Agori. It wasn’t quite sleeping and certainly wasn’t dreaming. More like knitting.

IC: Sohmak - Spineless Bay, Fortress Razorfish;Vaa The brawler had made to speak, struggling to conjure the word sycophant, and so the moment was seized upon by T'harrak. He was glad she had in the end, ever the diplomat in a world of ruffians and roughhousers. For appearance's sake, he still scowled. "First an' final," Sohmak agreed. Tough, but fair. OOC: @Smudge8 @Nato G

OOC: 🎵 Spread the word around, guess who's back in town? 🎵 IC: Mard & Ahmoa - Training Ground, outskirts of Atero Lords know what goes on in your head, Lutenus, Ahmoa thought with some small amount of unease. They knew from the small plate on Del's scalp that Celtech enhancement went beyond physiological. The Jungle Glatorian's unsubtle skull-cap was... something else. "Nothing of terrible import," the red Agori lied, assuming a more neutral grip with the axe, brandishing instead a close-lipped smile. "Your focus ought to instead be on your upcoming bouts. A good fighter musn't let their mind wander too far, lest they become their opponent's meal ticket. And you are a good fighter, Lutenus, make no doubt." Steering the conversation, and hopefully the combatants, he offered "Do you have much to gather before you depart? May we offer you water and rations for your journey?" All communication ceased... what happened to the Iron Tribe? And why did only Del make it out of Ferrum? "Oh, all over!" Mard exclaimed with maybe too much enthusiasm. Lorqua's interest seemed genuine, and it had been entirely too long since he'd had anyone but Ahmoa to talk shop with. Their icy boss never even pretended to entertain their true passion. "Well, okay, that's an exaggeration. We were a travelling troupe, playing stages in Tajun, Tesara, Atero and every outpost and oasis in-between. Well, not every, that's another exaggeration... we picked up Ahmoa on our first and last trip out to Vulcanus. Never made it out to Iconox, moral objections y'see." The hateful irony. "Denarii was always tight, more often than not whatever we earned went on board and supplies for the next trip out into the desert. Half us wanted to settle in one spot for steadier pay, other half thought that was 'antithetical to the ethos of our artistic mission'," the Tesaran notably omitting which side he or Ahmoa came down on. "After our caravan drivers threw a fit and ditched us here in Atero, the tension boiled over and... that was us. Not quite sure where the others went after that, blew away on the breeze for all I know." His ears pricked up, catching the tail-end of the other conversation. He was beginning to feel sorry to see them go, or Lorqua at least. "Sounds like your buddy's wrapping up there. Anything we can help ya with on the way out?" OOC: @Toru Nui @oncertainty (I'll try not to set us back another year this time 😅)

IC: Sohmak - Spineless Bay, Fortress Razorfish;Vaa "Jojax pummelled one of your workers and one of my best fighters into infirmary." He spoke suddenly, and bluntly. T'harrak's attempt at introducing levity died on the vine. "Same fella, for the record. Walked in on 'er tryna tear 'im in 'alf. Sarke or not, it's low." The muscle of the warlord dyad joined the brains at her side, looking down on the wrestler and tutting. "What do we do about it b—?" Sohmak felt his palms become clammy inside the Sluggers, hoping now the upward inflection of inquiry would mask the abrupt stop, catching himself before he could say boss. OOC: @Nato G @Smudge8

IC: Sohmak - Spineless Bay, Fortress Razorfish;Vaa It took all his will not to start spitting the most vile obscenities in response to her query. To the brawler, it reeked of naught but petulance. Sohmak inhaled deeply. He had the ineffable quality of always surprising folks with his height, and now to Jojax, he seemed to blot out the high noon sun. "Foreman's gonna wanna 'ear 'bout this" was all he said, holding his tone as level as possible. No was the implicit answer. OOC: @Smudge8 @Nato G @ARROW404(forgot to tag you in the last post, sorry!)

IC: Sohmak - Spineless Bay, Fortress Razorfish;Vaa Spitting or kicking would have been cheap, and would've taught Jojax nothing but resentment for the pecking order as it stood. No, the lesson had to be lasting. Wordlessly, Sohmak strode over to the chunk of the wrestler's mask that had been hammered free. A strange feeling came over him, the part-face of an old rival staring up at him from the dirt of the courtyard; at once comforting in what it once represented, and upsetting in what it stood for now. Sohmak raised his great clawed foot and brought it down with a brilliant CRUNCH, breaking the lump of mask-metal into smaller fragments. He repeated this punishing motion again and again, finally twisting his heel and rendering what remained into metallic flakes and protodermic dust. The Spineless Slugger cast his blazing red eyes around a now-subdued audience, but not once did he look back at Jojax. Now he came over to the Scorpion, lying face-down and still as before. Turning the fighter over with his foot, Sohmak saw his eyes were open, unmoving. He watched him carefully, for what felt like too long a time. The Scorpion blinked. "Get 'im up. To the infirmary." he quietly commanded, two Skakdi draping the Scorpion's arms over their shoulders and dragging him away. "Next shift out." And now he looked to Jojax, his glare seeming to say not you. CLANK. "T'HARRAK," the warlord boomed "BRING 'EM IN." His head span with how they would handle Jojax going forward. The day was off to a wonderful start. OOC: @Smudge8 @Nato G (permission obtained to destroy the mask-fragment, thank you Smudge!)

IC: Sohmak - Spineless Bay, Fortress Razorfish;Vaa Had he chosen to retaliate, the brazenness of Jojax's latest blunder would have put a very swift end to her efforts. But in a rare instance indeed, this was not a fight Sohmak wanted to entertain. A simple hop to the side and the wrestler sailed past him, eating dirt. "LAST CHANCE" Sohmak roared, adding in a low murmur "Ancestors, look at y'self..." The Spineless Slugger now turned his attention to the thrall, demanding to know "Did Jojax challenge the Scorpion?" Met with silence, he bellowed his query again. "DID JOJAX CHALLENGE THE SCORPION?!" Shifting eyes and conflicting mutters provided his answer, and he glared again at Jojax with narrowed eyes. "You ain't even make it official, right? You attacked 'im cold, didn'tcha?" OOC: @Smudge8