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Void Emissary

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  1. IC: Gunner | The Dancing Crab "Hopefully," I said, leaning my elbows onto the table in an attempt to interpose myself between these two man-mountains, "those were pirates that you were opposed to, and not ones that you were allied with, no?" As much as Iudex was the kind of muscle we could use aboard the 'Vika, he was sporting enough red flags for the next hundred years of trips into the Drifts. The rest of the crew was already doubting my credibility after vouching for Lash and her Rahkshi -- if I brought this guy to them, talking the way he was now, they would all be within their rights to send me straight to the Nuju-Marion to get my skull examined. I just needed to keep him talking long enough to figure if he was either lying about all of his, er, eccentricities, or to work out a way to get him out of our business as fast as possible. Preferably before Blue-Eyes took a shot at him, or vice-versa. OOC: @BULiK@Johnny Blocksville -Void
  2. IC: Nika | Ussalry HQ "Difficult job," Nika said, clenching and unclenching his remaining hand -- for the crabs had taken his prosthetic when they discovered the talons built into it -- as he stood to look down at the little captain. "Whoever could kill six Turaga in one coordinated attack has impossible resources. Mangaia Pact required infernal intervention simply to succeed in siege on single city. Probability of death beyond high. Likely have only survived this long due to extenuating circumstances distracting quarry: ee-gee, rise and fall of quote-unquote Mangaia Pact, death of Echelon, rumoured return of... you know." Nika crossed his arms, glancing over to Pae, then to the two Toa standing outside their cell, and then back down to the captain. "Rougher crowd than usual cultists and cut-throats, Captain," he said. OOC: @ARROW404 @Palm -Void
  3. IC: Gunner | The Dancing Crab His pauses and stumbles didn't go by me without notice, and if I hadn't already had my doubts about his boasting, then I certainly did by then. Besides, although I had never personally met Echelon the Necromancer in the flesh, I knew for a fact that he had once led the charge that decimated the old Island Liberation Front way back when -- and the people there I had definitely known, and known well-enough to understand wouldn't have gone down without a Karz of a fight. The odds of one man going up against Echelon and beating him... well, it just didn't seem too likely. Still, that didn't mean that Iudex couldn't scrap, and maybe even scrap with the best of them. And between the brave new world we were looking for, and Lash's little pet, we could use all the scrappers we could get our hands on. Plus, way that I figured it, if we didn't get another big guy to balance out Blue-Eyes on board, we were likely to flip the ship. "Coast of Ga, you say?" I replied. "Sailing type, then? Funny that you ended up in this joint then, considering who's hiring. Ever work in privateering?" OOC: @Johnny Blocksville @BULiK -Void
  4. IC: Gunner | The Dancing Crab I gave Blue-Eyes a sidelong look, making sure that his blaster-arm was the same place that it was before Iudex's comment. Fortunately, while those eyes of his were pulled into a mean squint, he didn't seem like he was going to be making any move to attack anytime soon. That was good -- a loose-cannon in front of me was bad enough. One sitting next to me, too? I didn't like the odds on that, not one bit. "You good at pummelling, then?" I prodded, leaning forward just a bit. "What sort of experience you got in the field? Any battles I might've heard of?" OOC: @BULiK@Johnny Blocksville -Void
  5. IC: Gunner ! The Dancing Crab I could feel my brow furrowing despite myself. Tiribomba certainly wasn't my name, unless I happened to look a lot like some other poor fool that this man had met previously in life. I knew that some folks claimed that it translated to jungle leaf, which was possibly a reference to my race, the connotations of which I frankly didn't have time to get into right now. More concerning was the reference to himself as the God Warrior. And his surname, Iudex, if a childhood of fancy tutors in dead languages was doing me any good... that meant the judge. "I'm afraid you've got me mixed up with someone else, Mr. Iudex," I said, friendly and casual, "but my name's Gunner. So perhaps you could enlighten me as to what I've been missing." OOC: @Johnny Blocksville@BULiK -Void
  6. IC: Gunner | The Dancing Crab I raised my hand quickly to signal that I was fine without -- as well as blowing away whatever he was coughing up. "Legend, you say?" I replied, trying to feel out who the Karz this guy was. Widgets to walnuts, this guy was one mask short of a Suva and anything he said would need to be taken with a heavy shake of salt. But between the Marines and the Sentinels, and his landing in Ostia... the fellow was of sailing stock. And, as Lohkar's recruitment campaign was evidence of, we could use all the sailors we could find, Spirit save us all. "What's your name, friend?" I replied, glancing over to Blue-Eyes across from me as well. "'haps I've heard of you." OOC: @Johnny Blocksville@BULiK -Void
  7. IC: Gunner | The Dancing Crab Perhaps I had misjudged this man -- the tattered paper between his fingers and the cavalier way he had approached us earlier, I had assumed that he had come looking for work on the 'Vika. Turns out that he just needed a lift out of town. I idly remembered hearing word that the Fowadi was in Ostia, and for a moment I considered pointing him over in their direction and making him their problem. The way that I figured it, they owed us for saving their ###### in Ko-Koro all those months back. But, blast me for it, I wasn't about to go hypocritical on myself just then -- not after giving the rest of the crew my whole song and dance about not making things harder for the folks like us left. For one thing, Yasurek would never let me hear the end of it. "What you headed to Ga for, you mind me asking?" I said to him. OOC: @Johnny Blocksville@BULiK -Void
  8. IC: Gunner | The Dancing Crab I never could abide by smoking. Maybe it was a race thing, an air elemental's predilection, but the smell of tobacco always set my teeth on edge. So, glancing over to the newcomer -- a mountain of a man, and about as dirt-covered as one to boot -- and flicked a finger through the air, conjuring up a breeze to keep the stench away from me and my new, armoured friend. You would scold me for it, but I can't say that the motion was particularly subtle. "Can't say that I recall doing so, no," I replied, leaning back in my chair so as to get a better look at this fellow. By Spirit, he was big'un, rivalling even Blue-Eyes across from me, with a mask that looked like someone had commissioned Karzanhi himself to forge a Kadin, two great horns bursting forth from it. His poncho and pants might have, at one point, been white, but that was mere wishful thinking at this point. But he seemed unarmed, which is always a general surprise on this island, and a particular surprise in a place like the Dancing Crab. The only other thing he was holding, apart from that ###### cigarette, was a scrap of paper whose contents I suspected I had already seen. "But while you're here, can we help you with anything?" I continued, glancing over at Blue-Eyes to see those peepers eyeing the newcomer up-and-down as well -- at least he could even the odds if ###### went south. OOC: @Johnny Blocksville @BULiK -Void
  9. IC: Gunner | The Dancing Crab I nodded, tipping my glass towards him in agreement. "Welcome aboard...." OOC: @BULiK -Void
  10. IC: Gunner | The Dancing Crab I took a drink of whiskey, watching his eyes over the glass' rim. There was something in there -- a twitch, a shift. You know how good I've gotten at reading those sorts of things, the minutiae of a living being. It was the best way I ever knew my father, the only way I had ever known my mother, and my protection from my brother -- which is how I knew that this guy, gun raised up, didn't mean any harm at the moment. No, you live with my brother for long enough, and you knew when trouble was coming for you. And this fella? He was trouble coming for someone else. "Slavery's a rotten thing," I said, touching my glass back down to the table, sucking breath through my teeth, "and revenge I understand. And if you can weld and you can fight and you can heal in a pinch, the 'Vika could use you, and it'll pay you fairly. But be aware that we're not headed to war. We'll get you there and we'll get you back, if that's what you want, but... your business is your own, you understand?" OOC: @BULiK -Void
  11. IC: Gunner | The Dancing Crab Yeah, and I was a friar. Most of the welders I knew (which admittedly did not belong to a large fellowship) didn't walk around with cannons where their arms should have been -- that particular contraption screamed mercenary. The long, pregnant pause before his answer only echoed that assertion. But, hey, as I've mentioned before, we've all got pasts, and people don't tend to join up with pirate ships because they want to linger in theirs. Let the guy have his dreams of being a welder, I say. "Welding, eh?" I repeated. "What sort of ships did you weld on, previous? Guard, privateer?" OOC: @BULiK -Void
  12. IC: Gunner | The Dancing Crab "Hm," I replied, and I sat down on the bench next to this guy, laying my glass on the table between us. Now that I could look him in the eye, I was able to ground myself once again, and swallow some of the concern that had been gnawing at me. I reminded myself, best I could, that I had beaten back the forces of the Necromancer only a few months back, and that none of those 'kuta-skulls had entered my vicinity wanting something tangible from me -- which, the way I saw it, gave me something to work with. Negotiations were something, after all, that I had been trained in since birth. "So, you're interested in joining the Infernavika, is what I'm inferring?" I began, nodding slightly towards the Captain and my crew-mates in the other booth. "What's your usual business? You ever worked on a ship before?" OOC: @BULiK -Void
  13. IC: Gunner | The Dancing Crab I had to force myself not to flinch as I forced a grin at the sight of this fellow's gun pointed at my chest. The life I've led, you'd think I'd be used to having weapons drawn on me by now, but truth be told, I'm not sure if that's a thing you can ever truly become nonchalant towards -- you simply learn to keep your nerve. And I had enough nerve to start figuring that this gesture of his meant one of two things: either he was deranged enough to try threatening his potential employer right out of the gate, or he was clueless of his own imposing nature. By God, were we just getting the freaks today? "That would be me," I said, before "Or, rather, I'm the fella you're looking for's representative -- the Captain's busy at the moment, but--" I raised a hand casually, as though I was moving to scratch my temple, and a soft breeze arose from out of nowhere behind me, scattering the napkins at my crewmates' table. "--he might be over in a bit. May I sit, in the meantime?" OOC: @BULiK -Void
  14. IC: Gunner | The Dancing Crab It was his eyes that made me hesitate, seeing how they were as clear and blue as a windless sea -- at once beautiful and brutal, and all the stranger to be seen within such overwhelming armour. I found myself recalling the corpse-blue eyes of my old tutor, that rangy old Lesterin and his Hobbesian logic, and I felt something cold grip my heart and twist my bowels. I wondered if Teacher, the wretch, was on his way to this Zakaz himself, and quickly placated myself with visions of him within the claws of Lash's Rahkshi. Still, I found myself floundering for the proper word to proceed with. "Ah," was what I finally settled on, laughing as breezily as I could to buy myself time to think. "You mean the islands?" I leaned in towards him a touch closer, careful to do so slowly and keeping my hands far from the swords at my belt -- I just needed to be close enough to provide us with the smallest amount of privacy. "I hope you don't mind my asking," I said, lowering my voice a touch, "but what draws you to them so?" OOC: @BULiK -Void
  15. IC: Gunner | The Dancing Crab All eyes in the bar darted towards the big guy who entered just then -- and then darted back just as fast, lest any attention be drawn towards themselves. Not me, though, of course. Had anyone asked, in the moment, I would have said that it was because I knew I could take him in a fight if need be. But, with you, I can be more candid (knowing, as I do, your feelings about my bravado): I recognized the paper that was strung to his bayonet, or at least what was written on it. Lohkar really had sown his oats around town, so to speak. And since the Captain was busy with another would-be sailor, I knew this one would have to be on me. But, hey. I could take him if need be, remember? Taking my cup with me, I moseyed my way over to him, neither too casually for it be strange that I landed in his midst, nor too directly to seem like an immediate threat. He was even bigger up close, bigger than Raknar had been, and armoured more heavily than seemed wise for a sea voyage. Maybe he had gotten drummed off the Fowadi -- too much even for their lax opinions on the value of buoyancy at sea. Still, a big guy like him could be useful -- without Raknar, or Perkahn, or even ol' Doomslayer to cover, the 'Vika's crew favoured dexterity far too much to raw strength. "Call of the ocean, eh?" I said, leaning on the wall next to him. "Seems like it's getting louder for everyone nowadays." OOC: @BULiK -Void
  16. IC: Sy'ryn | Jabbar Peak This far up the Jabbar, the air grew thin and cold, and Sy'ryn could feel his body die as even as it continued to climb, climb, climb. He groped for handholds with pale fingers, gone numb within the first hour of the ascent and which had been forgotten entirely now, in his fifth. His robes, tattered already, were soaked with sweat and the crystal run-off from the parts of the peak where enough sun scrabbled through the clouds to melt ice -- they clung to his body like the grim embrace of Irnakk, come to collect his wayward son. But Sy'ryn had never been wayward, had he? Not even when his siblings of the Nakihl had been butchered by the cowardly heu;nii Ga'Rokk:Di and Sy'ryn had been forced to flee from the convent with only a staff to lean on and the clothes on his back, condemned to a life of hard-scrabble and hunger. Others might have, yes, others might certainly have, yes, yes, but he had not. He was like the Jabbar, was the Jabbar, in its stoic resistance to the vicissitudes of the world. It was why he had come here, wasn't it? Wasn't.... His knee scraped against stone and his stomach dropped out from inside himself, and it took Sy'ryn several seconds to realize that his left foot had slipped out from the rock and had left him dangling over the abyss. Sy'ryn screamed, terror and the need to survival wrenching sound from dry and brittle vocal chords until he was hacking up blood onto the pale snow. For a moment, of course, he contemplated letting go and ending his ascent -- but he quickly pushed such feelings aside, pushed them aside so well that he forgot they had ever existed, and instead knew in his heart that he had merely been thinking of what others, the infidels and heretics of the great fortresses would have thought in his stead, loyal as they were to nothing higher but the promise of bread and board. Yes, bread and board... how he yearned for both... how he ached.... Still, Sy'ryn climbed. Bread and board... yes, he said, returning to himself, awakened by his brush with death. He had come to this island for bread and board, and received naught but blood and bruises by those who looked down on the wise and wizened. Fearful, yes, fearful of the pure faith in his heart which was like a mirror to their own hearts which had sickened with selfishness and secularism. With their rocks and sticks they had come, and Sy'ryn had been forced to flee from the civilized parts of Seprilli... yes, this was why he had climbed and climbed... why he could not stop climbing, or they would find him... he could already hear the cries and clangs of metal on metal in his mind.... No, no, wait! These were not illusions of his mind, they were real! A scrap between other climbers! Were there among them others of his kin, others of the Nakihl come to escape their cruel fates? "Friends!" he cried out, tears coming to his bloodshot eyes, "Friends, let us not fight! Our gods would not wish their children to war so!" OOC: @Goose@BULiK@Zasshu -Void
  17. IC: Zyla & Daijuno Dastana | Ga-Koro Harbour I flinched at Long Dihunai's show of soulfire, same as Daijuno -- Commodore Ayiwah present or not, a saihoko never knew for sure of their safety with it around. Still, seeing that the tajaar had not made any movements, either to ourselves or to the skakdi Rhow, I let go of the breath I realized I'd been holding. It was then that I noticed the arrival of another. This was a man, a dasaka. His long grey coat swirled around him in the hot oceanic air, similar in cut to the Commodore's, and for a second I found myself assuming that he was another sailor. But this was a dasaka of clear noble bearing -- shorter than most I had ever seen, but clearly strong, and carrying himself with purpose and dignity afforded to few. And his eyes... less like a dasaka's, and more like a shallows cat's. "Plangori Yukie," I whispered in Daijuno's ear. "Acting Toroshu of clan Plangori, and elder brother to--" "I can guess," Daijuno replied, her voice cool and measured. "Toroshu Plangori, pleasure! As the Commodore says, it seems that any other individuals who have arrived on this island before us find themselves unable to recall the specifics of their homelands. Broad strokes, sure, enough to maintain their personal identities -- but nothing that could, say, let us pinpoint it on a map. We were hoping that a willhammer such as yourself might be able to shed a bit of light on the subject." OOC: @Mel@Vezok's Friend@BULiK -Void
  18. IC: Daijuno & Zyla Dastana | Ga-Koro Harbour Despite myself, the corner of my mouth twitched up at the commodore's statement -- not just her joke, but her statement of faith in my abilities. I, of course, pushed down any potential feelings of pride or respect that have been conjured for the commodore in that moment, steadfastly refusing to give one of the Rora's kin any such pleasure. But a glance over to Zyla, and her raised eyebrow, revealed to me that that that particular jig was up. I scowled at the misstep, which was the unfortunate moment that this Long Dihunai walked up to us. "'Course, ma'am," I said, nodding towards the commodore, before turning my attention to Dihunai. "Speaking of which -- lady Dihunai, was it? Pleasure to make your acquaintance. Daijuno Dastana, as you've heard. I was wondering if you might be able to help myself and Ms. Rhow here with, ah, some memory issues that she's been having? For compensation, of course." OOC: @Vezok's Friend@BULiK -Void
  19. IC: Daijuno | Ga-Koro Harbour ******ably annoying it was dealing with a bunch of Menti -- none of them ever seemed to remember that Dashi like me couldn't respond to their Ideatalk. "No need for any of that, ma'am," I said, walking up to the commodore. "This one's got as cool a head on her shoulders as anyone we brought with us. She works customer service, for crying out loud. And whatever's causing her memory issues seems to be affecting anyone who comes to this island... except for us. I figured working that out might provide us with what you might call a strategic advantage." Even as I said that, though, I could clock that the commodore was only giving us half of her attention -- the other half was still fixed on the Ryuu. "Speaking of which," I added, taking another step towards her and lowering my voice, "what's the situation here? Something about hostages?" OOC: @Vezok's Friend -Void
  20. IC: Daijuno & Zyla | The Great Takea My hand moved instinctively to the knife at my hip. The idea of heading back out into the fray still made my heart-light strobe with fear: there be dragons, I thought, and worse: Umbralines. Anyone ever talks to my biographers about why I took my hand away from the knife, they'd probably intuit something about the confidence inherent in having a big, broad, brick house of a bartender backing me up out there. Rhow was, after all, one of the most imposing women I had ever met in my life in terms both literal and otherwise. Fist-on-fist, I could imagine a fight between her and Lord Umbraline Rayuke coming out to little more than a squeaky if the Umbralines were lucky. It would stand to reason that anyone would be less afraid of dragons next to her. But that wouldn't be the truth. The truth was, I looked over at Zyla: Zyla, the girl who had followed me halfway across the world, who had survived weeks at sea with little more than a knife and a prayer, and had managed it with a poise I reckoned I would never possess as long as I lived. Zyla was a braver woman than I. To fall short of her example, suddenly, seemed unacceptable. So I tucked my hand into the pocket of my skirt, cocked a half-formed smirk up at Rhow, and said, "All right. Let's do some diplomacy." ~ ~ ~ Despite Daijuno's protestations, I had insisted on accompanying her and Lady Rhow on their expedition of... cultural exchange? Rhow had been unfailingly generous to me in spite of my unkempt nature, and it was only proper that I do everything in my power to repay her great kindness as soon as possible. Although, admittedly, I couldn't help but want to see more of this strange new land as well -- now that I had the benefit of a full stomach buoying me up. A PORTRAIT OF GA-KORO The cities of Kentoku had been built by the hands of generations of women. You could see that in every brick laid, every crystal shaped, every rafter and piece of timber laid upon the foundation of carved bedrock and sheared forest. Sado itself was a marvel of engineering and innovation, a monument to the minds of arcanists and architects the archipelago over. To look upon was to look upon the Dasakan people, in all their glory. But Ga-Koro, as I would learn it was called, was a city that seemed to have grown from the island itself. Vast lilypads which stretched deep into coastal mists seemed to rise effortlessly from beneath the waves, their swaying movements less disorientating than comforting -- the rocking of a child to sleep. Where the stamp of industry was visible, even there was subdued, a working with the land that even the most druidic of the tajaar nomads would balk at. Vines shaped into homes, grown into the form of warehouses and shops and buildings. The smell of the green and the growing was everywhere, along with the salt of the sea and the aroma of fish cooking on open fires. Oh, the smell of food! Food that I could have never imagined: fish never fathomed by Dasakan fisherwoman practically being given away by the mongers, so common they were. What a place, what a time, what-- "--a hostage situation?" the dashi said, shrugging, pointing off to the silhouette of the Chisaii Ryuu. "I'm not sure, but I've heard rumours. Whatever's going on, no one's being let aboard. Commodore's orders." To which my employer scowled her lovely scowl, and said, "Aw, karz. That puts something of a damper on things. Unless you know anything about rescuing hostages, Rhow?" OOC: @Vezok's Friend -Void
  21. IC: Gunner | The Dancing Crab "Well, I already sleep in the hold," I said, pouring myself another drink of whiskey, "so I suppose that I'll be the one keeping an eye on the Rahkshi during our trip. If I drop dead mysteriously somewhere at sea, I give you all permission to say I told you so to my corpse." I leaned back in my seat, taking a fresh sip of my drink. I needed to stop drinking, I knew -- I could feel my thoughts pickling in my head. But it was just too ###### hot in this place. "And to answer your question, Yas, I'm a born-and-bred Mata Nui boy, yessir," I continued. "But a rich Mata Nui boy, living up in a castle in the jungles of Le-Wahi -- the Great War was always a bit of an abstract concept for my family. When the Rama enslaved Le-Koro, we were nowhere to be found. Figured that was a shame when I was a young idiot. Was always wishing I could tell my-- tell people I was there for Onua's battle against Lewa, y'know?" I pushed my glass away from me. I needed to stop drinking. OOC: @Snelly@Ghosthands@pokemonlover360 -Void
  22. IC: Gunner | The Dancing Crab "I used to run an inn, remember?" I quipped, taking the bottle back to splash some whiskey into my own cup. "Even between all the illegal arms deals going on there, I got a knack for brewing." Taking a sip, I continued, "I get it. It's a calculated risk, but it's still a risk. Way I figure it, first sign of trouble? We dismantle the karzin' thing and sell it for scrap when we reach shore." OOC: @Ghosthands@Snelly@pokemonlover360 -Void
  23. IC: Gunner | The Dancing Crab "f I recall, you have a certain penchant for cheating death, Kelp," I replied, reaching one hand into the pocket of my coat. "And I'll agree this isn't ideal. But this isn't three years ago either, when you first recruited Yasurek and me in Ga-Koro and there was a line around the block to get aboard your ship. Piracy's dying out here. The Maru are too big. Times are only getting tougher for criminals like us, and I figure the least we can do is not make 'em tougher for anyone." I pulled from my coat another bottle of dark amber liquid and slide it over into Lohkar's reach. "And... I see myself in the kid," I added. "A brash S-O-B with some big mistakes on their resume. And the 'Vika still gave me a second chance to turn myself around. Maybe I want to give that chance to someone else -- who's to say? Now, why don't you try the whiskey, Captain. Made it myself." OOC: @Ghosthands@pokemonlover360@Snelly -Void
  24. IC: Gunner | The Dancing Crab Once Lash and Verak had left the room, I let the tension in my body slip by the wayside, sinking deep into my seat in relief. "Hoping that not every interview goes like that," I said, taking another drink of ale for the nerves, "or my tab here is going to be astronomical." OOC: @Ghosthands@Snelly@pokemonlover360 -Void
  25. IC: Gunner | The Dancing Crab "If the captain has no objections," I said, "then I say that both of you can be on your ways. Just don't take too long with your business, and don't attract too much attention to yourselves." I gave a pointed look to both of the newcomers, albeit for different reasons -- although I suppose that Verak wasn't, truthfully, a newcomer. Although, I could've sworn that the Verak we aboard the ship before had been a different one... a Toa of the Green, if memory served.... But that had been at least a year ago, if not more. I was probably just misremembering. OOC: @Nato G@Visaru@Ghosthands -Void
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