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 Neon-Violet in Retrograde

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Public#1PostSubject: Neon-Violet in Retrograde   Tue Sep 19, 2017 9:26 am

“And this is the end for you!” Vegeshin cried out, arm extended outward toward what could only be described as an eldritch abomination of sorts. No amount of reasoning had managed to submit the creature; it disregarded all manner of negotiation and otherwise. And yet, as he’d begun to build up a mass of Ki within the nexus of his palm to fire, a sudden interruption cost him the decisive moment and he found himself tumbling through the air, wrestling with an unknown variable.

“No! I can’t let you ruin my plans! I can’t let you, I simply cannot!” She screamed, placing the heels of her boots upon his mid-torso before springing off of him. The resulting force slung him earthbound and his body found collision with a vehicle and then, inevitably, the earth beneath that vehicle. The woman, in question, had to have been a meta-humanoid of some type. Obviously an integral part in regards to this heinous machination of sorts, she had to be pulling the strings. Whatever the case had been, he needed to put a halt to all of it.

“Unngh.” The violet-lavender eyed individual grumbled, pulling himself from the gargantuan crater as well as the remnants of the vehicle he’d plowed through on his journey into this make-shift ditch. Shaking the loose discomposure from his head, he turned his attention upward. Whatever that ungodly, grotesque, monster had been...it now proceeded to open its vast maw and begin the manifestation of something horrible. Unsure of what it could have been, Vegeshin could only begin to guess as thousands of hands began to materialize out of the darkness of what appeared to be a portal. “A gateway? It’s manifesting a portal.” He mused to himself. “I see. She’s attempting to draw hordes of them over to overwhelm.” He continued, rising to his feet.

A glance around offered him all he needed to know. He, the last one standing of his group, had to do something quickly. Be it a shame he’d lost the one man who’d been a great tactician; the voice in his ear giving him critical updates and information. He’d have been a great necessity at this point in time. In fact, having a collection of all his old squad-mates would have been perfect about now. Things had certainly changed since those days. New blood. None of them listened worth a damn, and as useful as they could be, they all came across as more a liability than an assistance.

The Militia had been done away years prior, and in the wake of its collapse at the hands of the corrupt Government, one that had actually aided it in times prior, he’d remained a vigilante still carrying on its work. Occasionally, time saw the arrival of like-minded individuals and he graciously brought them on board. A rag tag bunch that acted as vigilantes. Time saw many come and go, and as of currently, this collective bunch now acted as the current citizen soldiers of this city. He’d offered his skills and experience to train them, but he’d never foresaw something such as this happening. This? Beyond what he’d expected them to face.

“For a first crisis situation, this has to be the shittiest of trial runs.” He sputtered, finally. “How the hell am I supposed to whip these little shits into shape if you show up with your god-damned legion of horrors and screw it all up?” He grumbled aloud, thumbing away a trail of blood from his brow. “I’m going to have to change the game up a bit.” He murmured.

Allowing his figure to once again grace the skies above, a sudden smirk graced his countenance. Both arms fell away to either side and a golden glow began to swell around his figure. Once royal plum locks shifted in hue and saturation, burning golden in but a few moments. Licks of the sunburnt energy continued to flicker around his figure and were soon joined with static discharges crackling around his bodily form. “I’d say stage two is sufficient enough to handle the lot of you.”

No sooner than he’d awakened the form did the beginning legions burst forth for him. In swift succession, he dispatched horror after horror on his journey toward the abomination before him. Yet again, the female from earlier made to interrupt him and without hesitation he swiftly backhanded her aside as if she were but a fly. Enough to render her unconscious, and naught more else. She did not have to perish. It stood against his morals. But these? These creatures of hellish origin? They held no souls. They held no true moral conscience. Betwixt searing beams and explosive barrages, he kept his eyes affixed upon that which proved most important; the monstrous titan that spewed forth countless condemned horrors.

He knew he had to bring it all to an end for the sake of this city; for the sake of the planet. Pooling his resources, he found his vigor suddenly boosted by the collective energies of his downed comrades who, by now, had begun to come to. Their palms outstretched, they lent him the necessary means to bring an end to it all. In grand coalescence, he unleashed the collective energies in a singular, cataclysmic, technique that splayed apart the hulking, gargantuan, creature and reduced it to naught but ashen remnants. As the portal collapsed, though, so too did he find himself drawn into the nether of power it produced. The resulting backlash folded the realms and he, an unwilling participant, found himself pulled into a collapsing singularity of sorts.

Be it the fates who sought to spare him, or be it something else entirely, he found himself soaring through a kaleidoscope of colors and a myriad of textures and distortions. He felt his energy being drawn from his very core; his essence mutilated and twisted in a series of jarring lashes of pain that consumed him in his entirety. Hurtling through what he could only perceive as time and space, he felt his eyes fall shut and his consciousness ebbing away until naught but blackness lingered and only the thrum of his heart remained.




He awoke sometime thereafter with a blistering headache, his body unresponsive and a horrible need to vomit. Choking back the sensation of it all he instead focused his attention upon one thing at a time. First and foremost, the sensation of touch. At first he found such a task trying and difficult, but he pushed through it all and discovered the cool sensation of a metallic surface. Face down, he placed both hands beneath him and strove to rise to his hands and knees. Vision blurred, he gazed around and found his sight assaulted by a number of blackened shapes overtaken by neon glimmers.

Soon after, the flooding sounds of murmurs coupled with various other loud noises poured into his auditory senses. Overwhelming at first, he gathered himself before leaning back to fall onto his rear. He felt off. Out of touch with his surroundings. He knew things were awry, though, and he could feel the internal struggle of his body trying to quantify the events happening to him; around him. Finally a single voice came through, piercing the muddled cacophony of the rest.

“Are you okay, dude?” Her voice, lilacs dipped in dew and glistening in the dawn, brought him to his senses and his gaze shifted toward her. He could make out her features after a few short seconds. Cascading locks that drifted betwixt an almost marine blue and obsidian black. Eyes of turquoise accented in mauve and neon pink. Darkened lines that ran from beneath her eyes, carrying downward over high cheekbones only to disappear around her jawline. Dressed to the nines, he couldn’t quite make heads or tails of it all. “Hello?” She continued, waving a hand before his face.

“I’m fine, I’m fine…” He murmured, gingerly pushing her hand out from before his face. Slowly, yet unsteadily and with a case of trembles, he rose to his feet. Every fiber of his being cried out in protest at the action and yet he ignored it. He fought through the pain because he had no other choice. “Thank you though…” He expressed, settling his lavender gaze upon her. “For your concern, I mean.” He explained. With sluggish response, he did his best to straighten his ragged attire. And then he affixed his attention elsewhere. He studied his immediate surroundings and found himself within a metallic behemoth. To one direction, a series of storefronts bathed in neon glow and chrome-metallic sheen. To the other, colossal panes of glass that looked out onto naught much more than space itself; the cosmos stretching out in all its magnificence. A light hum vibrated forth followed by a rather disheartened sigh of defeat.

“So I’ve been relocated yet again…” He murmured. He quickly found his space invaded though as the woman from before leaned into him some. Turning his attention toward her, he casually tilted away from her with a most peculiar look on his face. “C-can I help you?”

“Well, considering you mysteriously appeared out of thin air face down on the floor...You could start by telling me where the hell you came from. I’ve never seen anything like that before. You don’t seem to have the tech on you to trans-locate yourself like that.” She explained, studying him up and down. Without regard for personal space, she took hold of either of his wrists and searched him further for any sort of trinkets or gadgets. “Mm-nope. Don’t understand it.” She murmured before continuing. “Look like you got the snot kicked outta you, too. You sure you’re good?” She questioned, brushing a few of his lingering bangs aside to evaluate the split above his brow. “Pretty nasty cut there, bub.”

He couldn’t help but take a step back, trying to place some distance between the two of them. “L-look. I’ll be alright. It’s not the first time, and I’m sure it won’t be the last. I’ve suffered far worse and I’m still standing today. Thank you, though. I do appreciate your concern, and your curiosity. But I don’t even know what happened, myself. So I can’t give you any answers.” He explained with a mild frown on his face. Proceeding to roll his shoulder a bit, despite the still very present pain and dysphoria his body had been feeling, an audible pop resounded followed by a series of cracks and snaps as he twisted his neck to either side. “Hngh. I’ve never quite experienced something like that before. I’m not even sure I’m in the same dimension anymore…” He trailed off. At this point, his attention on her remained, but as  if he’d bewildered himself off into thought.

“Huh. Alright then.” She mused, brow risen in disbelieving curiosity. “Well. I can tell ya a couple of things.” She began. “Call me Aphelia, by the way. Currently you’re on what we all like to call The Sprawl. Think of it like a city. But in space. Has all the amenities you want and need, as long as ya know where to go and who to talk to. Number of districts, and whatnot. You’re in the market district. Shops and stores, and all that jazz. Cheaper side of the market district, really, but I don’t suppose that matters to you.” She explained. “To be honest, I wasn’t really expecting to find anything interesting out here today but I guess coincidences happen from time to time. You’re quite the find...Uh, you gotta name?” She questioned.

“The Sprawl?” He murmured, then shook his head. “Vegeshin. Those who knew me well enough referred to me as Veji. I guess it was more simple that way.” He explained. At that point he couldn’t rightly figure out where to go now. He’d never heard of such a floating city before, and he’d known quite extensively about the Multiverse he’d previously occupied. He could only assume he’d been plucked from time and space and relocated again a myriad of dimensions over, or whatnot. “Anyway, I see. I’m going to be rather forward, now.” He explained, giving her a rather serious stare. “I’m likely not from here. And by not from here, I mean I’m likely not from this time, space, nor era. I’ve nothing, at this moment, but the clothes on my back. So, until I can make heads or tails of what the hell is going on, I’m probably going to need a place to stay. Do you know anyone, or anywhere, willing to help me?” He questioned. A look of sincerity lingered in the depths of his lavender jeweled eyes. A look of honesty and integrity. More so than that, though, she caught a glimpse of core dwelling pain and misery; a history of tragedy that she somehow managed to resonate with.

She trusted him.

“Quite a mouthful, bud. Ain’t never heard bullshit like that before...but I’m apt to believe it. I’ve seen stranger things, be damned. Tell ya what. You buy me a couple of drinks, and I’ll let you crash at my place. It’s not big, but I’ve got a sofa you can crash on until you get your shit figured out. Try anything creepy in the middle of the night, though, and I’ll put a slug between your eyes. You can bet your ass on that.” She forewarned, drawing a gesture of surrender from Vegeshin. With a light giggle she shook her head and proceeded to turn on her heel. “Aight, pal. Follow me. Keep your wits about ya, and if you’ve got a wallet, keep track of that bastard. You’re liable to get lifted if you ain’t careful.” She explained.

After some travel time, and a number of rides up and down lifts, they arrived in a darker part of the city-station. Closer to the central core of it all, not much light from outside could make its way in. Barely piercing the veiled darkness of surrounding constructs, only a few dimly lit neon glows gave much, if any, light.  He felt so very out of place. As if he’d been flung into some far off dystopian cyber-punk future of sorts. Hard to process, even harder to conform to.

|Ambient Mood Theme|

“Aight. Before we even step inside, folks call this place Nu-Eden. Don’t ask me why. Sounds like bullshit to me, but I guess whoever runs the joint found it fancy and edgy.” She explained, taking position before the doors, and a couple of seedy looking gentlemen that could only be the doormen. “Point is, they got good drink. Good jams. And a nice atmosphere when the booze-hounds ain’t out to play. Sometimes the place does have a nasty reputation for drawing brawls, but typically the bouncers handle that shit quickly enough. So I guess why I’m trying to say, don’t respond to anyone tryin’a start something with ya. It happens with new faces, sometimes.” She didn’t even wait for a response before turning and giving the doormen the flip of her middle finger. As if like clockwork, they opened the doors for her and Vegeshin. Bathed in the glow of what appeared to be a club, Vegeshin found himself consumed in the new atmosphere.

The next hour, or so, he’d spent enjoying Aphelia’s company, and the atmosphere and retro-nature of the entire establishment. He discovered rather quickly that she could polish a drink faster than he. Be that a good thing, or a bad thing, he couldn’t quite be sure. He kept pace, best he could though, but remained wary of potential intoxication. While in instances prior, he could handle his beverage, he couldn’t be sure of how he’d handle it now, having been bounced from one cosmos to the next.

“Not a bad place, actually. Better than places I’ve been to before…” He mentioned, taking  sip of a drink before him. “I can recollect instances where upon entering, I’d already find myself in the midst of a heated battle between more than a handful of morons…” He chuckled, loosening up some.

“That so? I don’t envy you, then. This place is relatively calm and mellow. It has its moments, but most of the time people respect the rules and keep their shit together. I actually brought ya here because I thought someone I know could help, y’know. With that situation of yours. I don’t know jack shit about what you’re going on about, but I figure maybe this fella might. I don’t see him though. Might be a bust.” She explained. “We’ll hang around a bit longer, though. See what the crowds draw up.”

Swirling the ice in his glass, he finished it off and set it down upon the bar before him. Tapping a couple of fingers, he awaited a refill. “I suppose that sounds like a plan. Hopefully someone, anyone, has some information that’s useful. Once I can figure out what exactly is going on, I can put together a plan on where to go from here. Starting from scratch yet again isn’t necessarily the most satisfying of feelings one can have…”
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Public#2PostSubject: Re: Neon-Violet in Retrograde   Thu Sep 21, 2017 5:10 am

Cosmetic surgery or actual biology... Sharp, inquisitive green eyes peeked out from a mass of touselled hair, a small figure hidden behind baggy clothes and a beer in one hand.  A pair of EVA suit boots clicked againt the floor as she slid from her seat, before noiselessly moving behind.

Every movement, muscle twitch, and even the inclination of his head was logged and recorded for later use or dismissal.  The curiosity was overwhelming as she carefully looped around and waved down the bartender.  "One of whatever he's drinking, on me, for him.  With that, she slipped back into the crowd and kept an eye on the man's clothes.  His hair seemed a rich lavender, and while an easy identifier, was not an unfasionable color in some time periods.  It was the tail that was striking her curiosity. 

Fuck it. Going for it, thought a small voice before a woman barely larger than a pubescant child gave a deep breath and shook her hair back.  "Hey, you've got great eyes.  Maybe I can buy you a drink, get your comm codes and eventually drag you home to meet my mother."  Her skin tight top showed her slim figure, and the BDUs belied the fact that she was still wearing the bottom half of her EVA suit, making her hips and thighs look bigger.  Though anyone with sharp enough eyes or roaming hands could tell.  That, or they'd note the expensive looking energy weapon hidden behind a false cargo pocket on the BDUs.

The tiny woman offered a hand in greeting before introducing herself "Thorn.  You're not from around here, are you?"
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Public#3PostSubject: Re: Neon-Violet in Retrograde   Thu Sep 21, 2017 11:11 pm

|Atmospheric Theme|

After a brief silence, Vegeshin found himself given his ordered drink. Reaching for it, he made to say something when Aphelia rose from her seat. His attention fell upon her as she took a glance his way.

“Tender must like ya. Most times it takes quite awhile to get refills when the places is this busy. I’m going to go see if I can smoke out the guy I’m lookin’ for, though. I’ll be right back.” She explained, giving a sudden look of amusement. “Don’t get yourself in too deep. If you really aren’t from around these parts, I don’t think it’ll be too hard for some random folks to pull your chain.” She finished with a chuckle before vanishing into the sea of individuals behind her.

“Pull my chain? As if I’d be that ignorant…” He murmured. Not from here, sure. But it didn’t mean he had absolutely no experience whatsoever. Drawing the glass to his lips, he savored the taste for a moment. Different, but with a strange touch of familiarity. At least he could take pleasure in the fact that liquor almost always remained true to him. With her gone, though, he found himself feeling somewhat awkward. Drinking alone, in a crowded club. Didn’t send great messages to others, in his opinion.

As he made to take yet another sip from his glass, a strange sensation overcame him. As if his space had been invaded. A brow risen gave his face a quixotic look of curiosity for a moment as he shifted upon his stool. Glancing over his shoulder, he found himself met with nothing there and frowned momentarily. Senses sharp, he could have sworn someone had been there. Perhaps his head had been playing tricks on him, or perhaps the atmosphere too thick and full of vibes to react quickly enough.

As he returned to his prior position, a second glass approached via tender and he made to speak up in mild protest. He hadn’t ordered it and he didn’t care to be charged...considering his lack of currency. He didn’t care to accrue any additional fees for Aphelia, either. “I...I didn’t order that. I’m sorry. I just don’t have the cash for it.” He explained, being silenced as the tender waved a dismissive hand. “It’s a gift. No worries.”

His frown freshly returned, he began glancing around in curiosity, if not mild anxiousness. Someone had eyes on him. He couldn’t be sure if such a thing good, or otherwise. He’d been in similar situations before. Sometimes nothing, other times terrible situations followed. He found himself recollecting a situation that had spun sideways almost immediately afterword; the entire establishment wrought with chaos as he found himself drew upon by a firearm upon first sip of the drink.

As he went to polish off more of his initial drink, though, a voice caught his attention. Giving a side-eyed glance toward the source, his brows nearly met his hairline in perplexed dumbfoundedness. What on Earth had she just said to him? Gazing her up and down, she seemed rather in-place for such a sprawl of individuals. Fit every bit the part. But what shook him entirely had to be her stature. She looked naught more than a child. Setting his glass down, he adjusted his stool to face her, drawing his tail around his waist as if wrapping it like a sash.

“I beg your pardon?” He curiously asked. He couldn’t really find the words to reply with, but did his utmost best. “T-thank you, I suppose, for the compliment on my eyes.” He explained, and then frowned. “Aren’t you quite a bit young to be hitting on me?” Glancing around for a moment, he leaned inward some. “And how can you get away with purchasing liquor? Aren’t your parents around?” He questioned.

A terrible, foolish, mistake but...in all his years, in the dotted realms across time and space, he’d never actually met a woman as short, and childish, in appearance as this. He’d came across elves, dwarves, a ridiculous race of extremists, and all manner of non-human folk with humanoid bodily appearances. But none as childish in appearance as Thorn. She may have been a woman, but she looked every bit a child. How could he not be confused and mistaken?

“Furthermore...what the hell are comm codes?” He questioned, perplexed. “No, I’m not from around here. I’m here with someone, actually. I guess they’re doing their best to help me.” He explained, before pursing his lips in thought. “My name’s Vegeshin. Maybe it’s not such a good idea to speak to you. I don’t want...the crowds getting the wrong impression.” He murmured the latter half, almost beneath audible levels.

The last thing he cared to deal with happened to be a crowd with the wrong idea. Leaning back on his stool, he slid a few nailed fingers through his hair to compose the look; long, pointed, nails far-removed from a typical humans.

The dark rings, tinged violet at their edges, of his eyes also furthered his eccentric appearance. Many mistook it for makeup, or similar when in actually, it had nothing to do with such. Naturally, the skin tone shifted around his eyes. A byproduct of his heritage. Beyond that, his appearance remained utmost estranged in part of his tattered outfit. The prior scuffle had left tears and tatters littered upon his outfit, as well as dirt and grime stains. He almost appeared homeless, in some sense.

Reaching for his glass, he took yet another sip and eyed the one gifted to him. “I suppose from what you’ve said...you’re the one who bought that, then?” Perhaps this place handled situations differently. Maybe she could purchase liquor. Then again, he found himself questioning his assumption of everything. Something didn’t quite add up right about all of this.
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Public#4PostSubject: Re: Neon-Violet in Retrograde   Fri Sep 22, 2017 12:11 am

"Do I have to show ID for every shmuck who thinks just because I'm short...Okay, fuck it. If you don't want that drink, I could use some social lubricant.  I'm sorry."  Vegishin's distinctly nonhuman details had Thorn scouring her memory looking for anything that matched his description.  Finding nothing, she slowly started to come to the realization that whipping her baggier top off and tossing it to the dance floor in an effort to hit on one man who was clearly not her species wasn't the best idea.

Pointing to her scars should have proved that she at least had the emotional right to her hooch. "I'm a mercenary researcher working independant contracts.  Ask the bartender for a dataslate and look up the name Thorn Ironhart in scholarly articles.  I do a lot of stellar prospecting, and my size is not a mistake.  I'm just goddamn tiny. Not a youngling."

With that, she stalked off, noting that she'd never seen anything like him in the first contact reports or in person, so she had probably just walked away from a first contact, and chastized herself for that, rather than the missed opportunity for drinks.
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Public#5PostSubject: Re: Neon-Violet in Retrograde   Fri Sep 22, 2017 3:13 am

Clearly, her size happened to be a touchy subject. Vegeshin couldn’t quite relate to such an experience, but he did realize that his assumptions had made somewhat of an ass out of himself in retrospect. He couldn’t manage a word in edgewise, though, as she prattled on and defended herself; not that such a thing be unwarranted. It just left him little room to retract his statements. Keeping his gaze affixed on her, he couldn’t help but glance to and fro, imagining himself in a far brighter, and less bleak, situation.

“Pardon my misinterpretation of things…” He bit out as quickly as he could, but likely to no avail. Albeit, he did interpret everything else she’d said rather keenly. Mercenary researcher working independant contracts. A mercenary. Hired killer, being a prime possibility. It didn’t quite sit well in his stomach; being a purveyor of peace and a paragon that frequently bore the burden of hope, that many innocents carried, upon his shoulders. They killed, most oft, indiscriminately. Yet he’d reserve judgement for now. Best not to assume yet again and make even more a fool of himself.

Waving a dismissive hand, he followed up with but a few words as she stalked away. “I’ll take your word for it...My apologies.” A frown rest upon his face at this point and he swiveled on his stool to finish his initial drink. With it taken care of, he couldn’t help but glance at the one gifted to him. She’d seemingly left it behind. An internal struggle unfolded as he pondered on whether to leave it, or drink it. It wound up a moral conflict, almost. Be it rude not to drink it? Or be it rude to drink it? He couldn’t manage a means of solving the problem and so, instead, he left it untouched and found himself dry waiting for Aphelia to return; something that didn’t seem to be happening anytime soon.

And thus he sat there. Awkward, and silent. The atmosphere of the club, albeit full of bright neon pinks, blues, greens, and golds, didn’t lift his spirits much, if any. Nay, the large crowds of various individuals enjoying themselves provided no benefit. As a traveler misplaced in time and space, he had no friends, nor acquaintances; Aphelia barely counting, and no prospective leads to work from. Nothing in his myriad collection of texts, scrolls, slabs, and the like in either of his libraries spoke of any location such as this. He, once again, came to the conclusion that he’d been utterly displaced into a brand new cosmos that had no affiliation with the prior ones he’d known.

A full look of discomfort flourished on his countenance and he couldn’t stop himself from resorting to an age old habit of his; the fierce rap-tapping of his nails upon the counter in ponderance; an almost brooding thought process of his when things became far too out of his scope of imagining and understanding. His very eyes seemed glazed over, for a moment, as if he'd been light years away, disconnected from his own body and mindlessly floating within the nether via astral form. But that all came to an end as briefly as it had come upon him.

“Hmn.” He grunted. There did appear to be one positive out of the situation, though. She’d at least been well-spoken and smart. “Short, but intelligent. I suppose that’s better than nothing. Could have gone worse.” He mused with a light chuckle, trying to dismiss the current crisis at hand. “But what in the hell is a dataslate?” He pondered.

Whilst technology had been in abundance where he’d come from, it hadn’t been all that integrated into the locations he set up his residences at. Several nations had technology that baffled him beyond belief in their possession and yet Westeria, and Valore, seemed to cater more toward mundane modernistic approaches, if not even archaic in many various other locations on the planet itself. Then again, he could very well just be not all that technically inclined when it came to futuristic gadgets. Be that the safer bet.

He had no use for any of it. Not when one can fly by their own will and talent. Not when they can summon energies of destructive nature from their palms, fingertips, and even their eyes. Most of it useless, in his opinion, for someone such as he. So he remained ignorant of it all. So, perhaps in the end, be he the fool for not transcending the bounds of his intellectual limits in that regard. Knowledge equals power, after all. Knowledge of all scopes of reality, and not simply the ones he finds interesting.

“I guess I’ll have to start taking more interest in advanced civilizations, rather than focusing on the primitive ones. Archaism is interesting, what with their Deities, and magicks...but I guess if I’m ever going to figure my way around this blasted bullshit, I should start learning more complicated civilizations and their subsequent technobabble.” He murmured.

Still. It would be a daunting, mind-numbing, task even with his desire to grow in regards to information.
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Public#6PostSubject: Re: Neon-Violet in Retrograde   Fri Sep 22, 2017 5:11 am

Slipping out to the patio, Thorn sat down, drawing a small pack out of one pocket and lighting one of the sticks inside as it hung out of her mouth.  Drawing slowly on the rich smoke, she couldn't help but consider how stupid that exchange had been.

She lifted her arm up and started swiping across notifications in the screen fused to the inside of her left wrist.  Possible contracts from Drosden and the GSU showed up, but nothing she was interested in.  After all, she was a mercenary, but far from a killer.  She considered her choice in words, Mercenary researcher.  Mercenary implies death and chaos, but I have a passion for science.  I do contract science.  Mercenary science.  Perhaps I should put it as contract researcher?  But the mercenary networks have a subset for noncombat work, so apparently it's an accepted term...


Another puff of smoke and her thoughts trailed to wonder what someone who had never seheard the term comm codes before was doing in a bar like this that catered mostly to offworlders.  He was probably a bit of a fish out of water.  In noting that she had just about finished the cigarette, she crushed it out on her thumb nail and went back in side, to the bar.

After a quick check of the first contact reports, she found no species that actually had features of "Mostly homonid with a furred tail."  Again, she moved next to him, pulled up an ID barcode on her wrist mounted pad, and asked for a glass of mead.  "Sorry about walking off like that.  Makes a terrible first impression.  It's just... Less than fun when people think I'm literally a child."
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Public#7PostSubject: Re: Neon-Violet in Retrograde   Fri Sep 22, 2017 7:54 am

As time passed, his anxiousness grew in greater depth. He could recollect the first time something like this happened to him. He’d managed to stumble into a bar, albeit one much different than this. He’d taken a seat and, much like he’d been doing now, remained to himself. But in due time, both the tender, and several other patrons, welcomed him. Gave him the rundown. Filled him in and helped him to utmost lengths. It left a mark on him, something he’d always cherish and thank them for.

This? The situation had proved different. Not a bar, but a club. Nice tender, but nonchalant and apathetic to the plight of the flies at the bar. The crowd of patrons? Self-absorbed and too into the music, potential drugs, and debauchery happening in the dark corners of the establishment. Vegeshin, for all intents and purposes, found himself alone. And with Aphelia still having yet to return, he couldn’t be sure he hadn’t been ditched entirely. As if she’d washed her hands of the obvious problem.

He couldn’t help himself but worry about such things. A grown ass adult, sure; packed with a myriad of powers and capabilities, as well as intellect. And yet, even with all that he could still find himself overwhelmed and afraid at times. Afraid of the unknown. Afraid of where to go.

Shaking his head of it all, he decided he did want that drink. Snagging it, he took a rather large swig off of the glass before he realized he’d no longer been alone. Turning his attention off to the side, his brow drew upward in curiosity for a moment; casually taking in Thorn’s words.

“Ah. I didn’t expect to see you return. As I mentioned earlier, I do apologize for mistaking you. It’s not oft you see one of your stature, unless they’re of some off-type fantastical species. You strike me as entirely human. And…” He began, eyeing her somewhat. “With your build, and structure, you don’t strike me as a little person. So, I was inclined to believe child.” He explained, somewhat giving an idea of his mental capacity. “But, I stand corrected. You’re simply eccentric, and unique, at this point in my mind.” He finished, sipping at his glass yet again.

It then happened that he took some semblance of seriousness in regards to the conversation, and her return. Her return meant that she hadn’t been finished with him. Be it a sincere apology, or not, she had some need, some desire to return and speak with him. Him, of all things. While it may have been a contradictory train of thought considering his prior mental lamentations, she didn’t appear to have approached earlier with genuinely innocent intentions. Not that it seemed, considering her means of hitting on him and whatnot. He couldn’t help but be mildly suspicious, after all.

Submitting to that seriousness, he spun on his stool to face her almost entirely; studying her and inwardly scrutinizing her to some degree.

“So, when are you going to lay your cards on the table? Not to be rude, but considering how you first approached me, followed by the need to return, if even to apologize, and take a seat next to me.” He began, giving somewhat of a cynical grin. “I’m so inclined to believe you’ve some sort of interest in me, beyond a simple casual conversation. I’m fresh around these parts; this entire cosmos perhaps, but I’m far from an uneducated, mindless, fool.” He continued, then felt a twinge of guilt and therefore chose to explain further. “And before you still think me rude and off-putting, I’m, again, very unfamiliar with these parts. Trust isn’t something I have ample amounts of right now. So I apologize for my...chilly disposition.” Following up with a sigh, he suddenly inwardly cursed himself. Showing signs of weakness after giving such a stone-cold performance; amateur mistake at best. She'd likely see right through him, albeit he could only hope she did not. Dismissing his mistake, he pondered on.

Eyes trained on her, he still could not manage to get over her size. She looked but a child to him. He could, now, see the defined scars, and the facial appearance much better. Yet, still she appeared much younger than feasible, if she were to be telling the truth. As if she’d...simply stopped growing at some point and therefore suffers the ramifications of a child-like body. Strange.
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Public#8PostSubject: Re: Neon-Violet in Retrograde   Fri Sep 22, 2017 8:43 am

"Right now's good.  I'm in my mid twenties, I think...." Her voice trailed off as she swirled the tankard, before tucking the brown mass of hair behind one ear, revealing one of the reasons she couldn't safely grow further.  A flash light bolted directly to her skull was part of an implant assembly, a speaker of sorts that transmitted sound directly to the nerves of the inner ear.  But one could tell the installation was badly done.  The skin around it was scarred and torn, part of her earlobe hacked away to make room.  Or it was part of the gouging scar along her cheekbone that had been an accident.

She noted the rich violet eyes, and her habit of flirting with purple eyed folk, if her romantic liasons with a certain pirate queen were anything to go by.  A quick inward giggle to that thought.  Still, his comments brought to light something interesting.  It was obvious that he'd interacted with humans in the past, so there was a good chance that she wasn't the first one to make a first contact report on him.  Considering the fractured spacetime of this galaxy, she knew that there was a possibility that this was the first time it had been written in this reality.  She'd inquire about that later.

"I made a mistake when I was little, had some things put in me that I didn't exactly agree to, and now I'm stuck like this.  At least until I have money and the tech catches up so this can be removed and I can start fixing the damage a growth inhibitor will do."  While this wasn't entirely true, the point was the same.  But there was business to attend to, and one of his comments had her cursing inwardly.  "I had been thinking this was the first contact between your species and mine, if you're not human and that tail isn't a cosmetic surgery.  But it's pretty obvious, now, that I'm not the first human you've met."
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Public#9PostSubject: Re: Neon-Violet in Retrograde   Fri Sep 22, 2017 10:45 am

He listened intently to her somber tale. Judging from the scarring and crudely installed trinket, the physical stature, and vague details of what she had to say, he could only assume she’d been through some explicit level of trauma, if not worse. He found sympathy for her, in that aspect, sharing a relatable sense of despair at her potential life tragedies.

He found a sense of bewilderment at how the human body could simply...stop growing, but the more he pondered on the idea of it all, the more he didn’t care to know what sort of cruel, and downright inhumane, processes had to be gone through to achieve such an unnatural, and horrific, state of living. He fought a chill that sought to run up his spine. Not oft did he find himself suddenly overwhelmed with a sense of sympathy such as this, especially considering the plight he, himself, faced. In the end, his heart would always runneth over with compassion; a selfless desire to bring safety and comfort to those around him, whilst caring little for himself. A paragon, and martyr, all in one.

But as his thoughts again wandered onto the final portion of her topic at hand, he couldn’t help but fail in stifling a sudden, loud and reverberating, chuckle. One of amusement. One of utter disbelief and humor. First contact with her species? A human? How ridiculous.

“You must be mad to think I’ve never encountered a human before. I’m well-versed with them, actually.” He began to explain, before drawing another sip from his glass. “I suppose I’ve naught but time, and you’ve laid out vague details of your life for me, albeit seeings as I’m quite sharp, I’m sure a mercenary has reason to muddy the details a bit.” He promptly added with a slight wink. No fooling him. Though he appeared in his late twenties, in all actuality it seemed more apt to think he had been pushing fifty six, by now. Perhaps fifty seven. The years had grown blurry. And they’d grow blurrier in time, due to the Lazarus incident.

“That said, I’ll give you a brief idea of things. My story is far too long to condense properly, but I’ll start by suggesting that this cosmos, as you and I know it, happens to be one of many in an infinitesimal amalgamation of mind-fuckery. Pardon the explicit language, but I’ve since lost any semblance of understanding when it comes to the grand Quasiverse that is.” He explained. “I’d call it an Omniverse, but that would dictate that every possible Multiverse follows a logistical sense of being. That everything be in order, and whole in some aspect. And yet, from what I’ve encountered, naught seems entirely plausible in every possible case. Such as with the one I came from, with it’s vast array of inconsistencies and flawed mechanics. Advanced civilizations and technological marvels sewn naught but mere miles away from daft, ignorant, civilizations that worshipped false idols and the like.” He prattled on. Every bit a man of monologuing and rattling off a myriad of details; enough to bore any typical individual, and more apt to go right over their head in terms of comprehension.

“Regardless. I fell on tangent. I feel as if I’ve been displaced, once again, in time and space. I’m not sure where I’m currently at, nor what I’m going to do and where I’m going to go from here. And this isn’t the first time. The Universe I was birthed in was simply that. A singular Universe. And the over encompassing Multiverse it was apart of held eleven others. Each happened to be an opposite, or technically, a twin of the other. As I understood it, my Universe was designated the seventh. That would make the sixth its counterpart twin.” He explained, stirring a long nail in his glass to swirl the melting cubes. “But one day fate seemed to have a cruel sense of humor and thus plucked me from my place in time in that Universe, only to deposit me into another. And yet it wasn’t simply just a Universe. The denizens of that unholy cesspool called it The Multiverse. Essentially, Universes that could have been separate were endlessly sewn together. A vast tapestry of nonsense and inconsistencies. A place where two of the same individual, from different times, or realms, alternate realities, or what have you, could coexist in the same room.” He continued. Gazing at Thorn from the corner of his eyes, he chuckled briefly.

“I met a younger variant of myself from a time and place in space in which I had never lost the mother of my son, and deceased daughter. He seemed happy, and carefree. A different individual altogether, in mind and spirit.” He murmured some.

“Regardless. Tangent, yet again. My birth realm, if you could call it that, had an Earth. I lived upon it. And it was, as is the case with any other Earth I’ve set foot on, primarily settled by Human-Kind. Of course, my Earth also happened to be host of several other types of species. Anthropomorphic individuals. Androids. Dijinn. Alien-Kind.” He mused, and then continued. “Upon relocation to the next plane of existence; The Multiverse, I encountered many more estranged beings.” He paused briefly, then smiled.

“So, in short, no. You’re not the first human I’ve met. Nor will you be the last. Just as this is not my first adventure, nor will it be my last; I should suspect, at least.” He explained. “As for your first contact business, and regards to my species, I’m not all that interesting. I’ll give you the basic details, but I’m going to remain purposely vague. Not many of my kind actually exist, considering I’m a, for better lack of term, blunder on behalf of my progenitors. I’m one of, well. Three. Two, technically, considering my younger sibling is but a memory, now. I’m a cross-bred species of two powerful races, rightfully so. One, a warrior race. The other, as well adept in battle, are more of the wandering type. Living in harmony and peace. Elegant, regal, type. Mythical, almost even.” He mused, pondering on it somewhat. Ironically, he’d never taken a moment to reflect upon his heritage as much as now. “Regardless. They both are phenomenal creatures capable of commanding might rarely seen in mortal vessels.” He continued, pausing for a moment.

“Therefore, I guess you could consider me and my kin the first of our kind. Youkajin, if you feel you need a name for them. Beyond what I’ve given you, though, there isn’t much more I can offer you in terms of valuable details. I live, breath, eat, sleep, and do much the same as any other humanoid species, relatively close to human-kind, does. Nothing particularly unique about myself, nor my kin, save for our physical traits and tails. Beyond the tail, we have more feral features. Longer nails. Elongated canines and incisors. And considering my heritage, I’ve the rings around my eyes, and facial markings that denote my descending from greater bloodlines than typically known. My kin also share the estranged color palette in regards to our hair, and tail fur.” He finalized. “Beyond that, I’ve nothing else.”

As per usual, he remained a walking encyclopedia of useless banter and information. Always prattling on until the other grew weary of his endless droning. Still, perhaps it be an enlightening moment for Thorn. She’d hear nothing of his special capabilities, though. That would be something he intended on keeping to himself. The cosmos didn’t yet need to know of his vast array of abilities, least of all a mercenary likely to publish the information to public forum of some type. The art of surprise needed to lay in his court until at which time it could be displayed, should it even need to be. He could only hope he’d never, ever, have to use such talents here; albeit he found such a thing unlikely. Evil lurked in the hearts of those willing to accept it. And that would ring true no matter where he’d be shunted off to.
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Public#10PostSubject: Re: Neon-Violet in Retrograde   Fri Sep 22, 2017 11:25 am

As he started in on multiverse theory and looked over, he would have seen Thorn frantically typing on her wrist, taking notes with bright eyes before she decided to tell the Gods to suck her underdeveloped genitalia and smack her thumb firmly on the sound recorder icon.  She was practically bouncing in her seat, the mead completely forgotten as she listened to the prattle on multiverse theory.

"You realize that you're literal walking prove of one of the most elusive mathematical models in the last six hundred years?  This data's gonna free me from that rustbucket pile of scraps I fly!"  She was almost squealing with delight and fascination, like a school girl on her way to the first day of class, were it not for the scars. It was less the money involved with the implications of the data, and more the information itself.  Anyone who had seen her or someone like her in this state would realize that near instantaneously.
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Public#11PostSubject: Re: Neon-Violet in Retrograde   Sat Sep 23, 2017 6:14 am

Silence befell for a moment, his brow drew upward in mild disbelief. He couldn’t quite fathom her sudden behavioral shift; the excitement of what he’d said clearing his head with relative ease. While he could see the merits in what he’d said, the gravity of the science behind it, he still couldn’t understand why she thought such words could be a treasure trove. Did the inhabitants of this plane of existence not yet know the reality of what he’d said?

“Wait.” He began, falling into a lean upon the bar-top via an elbow. Leaning in, a look of scrutiny littered his visage. “Proof? Are you trying to suggest that the concept of what I just spoke of doesn’t exist here?” He questioned. Pondering on it, he found a sudden skepticism overcome him. Of course, he couldn’t outright deny the possibility in his mind, and yet it proved a hard concept to swallow considering he’d come from a place that, for the past decade or more, he’d been surrounded by a myriad of individuals well versed in the knowledge of multiple universes, and the possibility of them being mirror-verses to their own; the fact that their own existed as not one Universe, but a quilted amalgamation of infinite Universes equating to a fractured, and eccentric, Quasiverse. “That people aren’t aware of the existence of parallel Universes, and vast continuum's of Universes stitched into one?” The more he questioned, though, the more it did sound outlandish; even to him.

Leaning back, he drummed his nails upon the bar surface again and swiftly retracted his statement. “I suppose, then, that this isn’t actually a Multiverse. That answers at least one of my questions. This must be a solitary Universe. But considering I, myself, happened to wind up deposited here, there must be some form of instability. Some sort of event that triggered my arrival.” Whilst not a brilliant detective, he still had the ability to decipher information, even vague and unintentional, and bring to light revelations that offered insight. Lacing the fingers of both hands together, he rested his chin upon them and offered a meek sigh, and light shrug.

“I guess I’m glad to be of help.” He murmured. Sure, he’d helped her, and he may have managed to gain some information himself, but the reality of it began to ebb at his conscience. If the individuals of this Universe were ill-informed, and unaware, of the existence of Universes beyond their own, especially the concept of a Multiverse, or Omniverse, then his chances of being able to return from whence he came became frighteningly slim. Nay. Nigh impossible, even.
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Public#12PostSubject: Re: Neon-Violet in Retrograde   Sat Sep 23, 2017 4:14 pm

"Far from it. We have literal angels and demons. But we don't have that much access to the Meltiverse. Our primary proof is still that magnetism outstrips gravity by an order of magnitude. Frankly, some believe that iur Galaxy's primary celestial going nuts and spawning a few million new worlds a while back was proof, but it has to be taken into account that that being was literally a god. Multiverse theory is still more mathematical model than actual useable tech at this stage in our reality." The reply was about as condensed as it could have been, given the intricacies involved. "I.mean, some of us use spatial bandwidth theory to go FTL. We also have some wormhole tech. Oh! Mead!"

A hurried swig of the golden liquid and she continued. "There's lots of supporting evidence, but withou some actual hard data..."
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Public#13PostSubject: Re: Neon-Violet in Retrograde   Tue Sep 26, 2017 7:15 am

“Interesting…” He murmured to himself. The idea of it all sat much like a lead weight within his stomach. Angels, and Demons, were of no consequence. He’d seen a myriad of them. He’d seen Gods, and Devils. Anti-Gods and abominations the mind couldn’t possibly comprehend. Such a young and inexperienced cosmos, this one. He could only perceive the title Celestial as their God, so to speak. Their overseer, to be more exact. Godly beings were a plentiful sort, or so he surmised. At least from whence he came. The idea of them, even, seemed so boorish and dull; a mundane revelation he’d grown apathetic to by now.

“So it’s widely believed that such things are simply within his power, and not actually him pulling at the fabric of time and space to coalesce those that already existed previously. They truly think him a creator when he merely, and actually, simply allowed access to them. Quite a joke…” He mused. The idea of the masses believing this man had created when in reality, he’d only made access to pre-existing materials available, ushered a hearty chuckle from him. Sure, he’d likely actually created too, but Vegeshin, himself, did not fall into such a category. He, instead, had merely been ‘borrowed’, if even unintentionally.

“You say he went rogue, though, so to speak?” Not necessarily the words used, Vegeshin always sought to tread lightly when one suggested another of going mad. Perhaps this individual deity had, but Vegeshin had witnessed, with his own eyes, the boundless depths of madness, and all that came with it. His brother a prime example. And others far, far, worse.

“That’s beside the point, though. You’ve your data, then. I mean, if I am walking proof of such. But that’s limited data, I suppose, considering it’s merely my words and not tangible offerings.” He explained and then pondered. “You’re far more educated in such fields than I, considering my interests lay otherwise in regards to knowledge. I’m far more versed in ancient cultures, civilizations, and other odds and ends, such as various literature departures from the norms one would see with human-kind, and studies in regards to various life pursuits. Technology and the sciences of, and involving, stellar sorts is outside my zone of expertise.” He continued and then smiled. “But, with that being an established fact...should you choose to help me discover a means to return from whence I came, and perhaps pursue further, adding a means to cross at will.” He began, a cunning smile resting on his countenance. “Perhaps, as reward, I’d be so inclined to gift you in return full roam of my vast collection housed in their subsequent libraries.” He proposed. “A trove of textual, and relic-based, treasures spanning countless millennia at your fingertips to use as you see fit, within reason of course. I couldn’t possibly part from any of it, but I’d give you more than enough freedom to chronicle it all via photographed evidence, as well as allowing you to copy any important findings you find via transcribing.” He finished.

“I feel that a sufficient enough price, no? At worst, none would believe you. But at best...perhaps you’d be able to pursue a life more leisurely than the one you live now, with added praise and well noted accomplishments that would secure your place in history, I should suspect.”
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Public#14PostSubject: Re: Neon-Violet in Retrograde   Sat Sep 30, 2017 11:05 am

Thorn's internal squeal wasn't betrayed by her tone or face.  Rather, several empaths turned their heads upon feeling the tremor, as though turning away from some unending childish squeal of delight.  The implications of this information was staggering, and beyond that, "You, mister Vegeshin, have just hired a mercenary."

With that, she wrote a series of numbers and letters on a card and handed it over.  Type up a contract and send it to that comm address, just for formality's sake and to give me a paper trail.  I might have a theory, but I'm gonna have to run a few mathematical models, first."
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