Ora Noc Terrol: The Road to Paradise

[Shadow Moonseye]

“You gonna buy somethin’, or just stand there all day?” The man spoke, drumming his fingers impatiently on the worn counter. His voice was thick and gravely, hinting at the rough life he had seen. “Hurry it up, you’re holdin’ up the line.”

708 blinked, her attention pulled away from the wall and directed at the impatient shop-keep. She focused on him, watching every muscle tick and twitch, though her face remained utterly impassive. The man was older; he had to of been in his fifties at the least. His graying hair was cut in a short, severe style; reminiscent of the military guards that had watched over the woman for so many years of her life. Her hands clenched where they hung at her sides, but she forced down the swell of emotion; instead focusing again on the man before her. His dark skin was pock-marked, covered in scars from battles long fought, holding a leathery texture that came from years spent under Sheol’s harsh sun. Though his age was evident in his features, he still retained the body of his youth. Muscular and grizzled, he gave off an air that promised a most unpleasant death should you cross him.

“Well?” Her eyes flicked down to meet his, the brown orbs wavering under the force of her teal ones, but he didn’t look away.

That something she had noticed from the moment she had stepped off the shuttle and into the dust of the small settlement. The planet was harsh, and bred only the strong. Even the one small child she had seen showed no fear at the group that had filed off the shuttle. No, the child had shown only a guarded distrust of the strange people, a veiled hostility.

She blinked again, before breaking eye contact and turning her eyes back to the wall. It was filled with gun racks, every inch of space taken up by a gun. They ranged in price and quality, but for the most part they all seemed to be in good repair. Calling such a hostile environment home, it made sense that weapons were carefully cared for. The left wall of the small store was lined with blades, ranging from the standard pocket knife to blades the length of a grown man’s forearm; while the right wall was lined with shelves of ammunition. Set into the back wall behind the counter was a heavily locked door. 708 guessed that it lead to a storage area; maybe where he kept the high quality merchandise? In the wall of munitions another door was set, propped open by a sizable rock. The shop-keep’s office. Mechanical sounds could be heard coming from inside it, though she was unable to determine their source. A robotic assistant? She couldn’t be sure, not with the sounds of the other patrons--those from the shuttle and a few locals in for repairs-- filling the air.

She let out a light breath, turning her attention back to the matter at hand. The weapon she was about to purchase. She wanted something that she could conceal easily, and wouldn’t weigh her down. It needed to be powerful, she wasn’t worried about kick, as she was strong enough to one hand many guns that traditionally had to use both hands. Her flicked over the guns on display, deciding that she would stick with a pistol.

After another moment’s scrutiny she raised her hand and pointed. “That. Spare clip, box of rounds, and a holster.” Her eyes flicked to the wall of knives briefly, but she said nothing more.

The shop-keep turned, following her point to a handgun on the wall. It was a Preliator Hand Cannon, the favored side arm of heavy weapon users throughout much of the galaxy; the beast of a handgun had enough power behind it to snap the wrist of an unwary user, and put down all but the most dangerous of enemies in a single shot.

The man lifted the sidearm from its place on the wall and gave it a quick once over, checking the clip before sliding it home. He reached under the counter and pulled out a second clip, the box of ammunition and the holster. All the items were set on the counter before 708. “That’ll be five twenty-five.”

She nodded, reached into her pocket and pulled out a wad of bills. She quickly peeled off the appropriate amount and handed it over to the shop-keep. “Five twenty -five.” Scarred hands reached out and the woman lifted her purchases from the countertop, before stepping aside. She took a quick moment to survey the shop, then quickly made her way towards an empty corner to organize her new possessions.

“Good luck out there, kid.” The shop-keep laughed as he pocketed the cash, though the sound was far from friendly and light hearted. “You’re going to need it.” He waved up the next customer, watching the odd woman move off out of the corner of his eye. “What’ll it be kid?”

[quakernuts]

Luke wandered up to the counter, unwilling to meet the gaze of the shopkeeper. The only reason he was in this gun shop was because he knew he would be dead without some sort of long distance weapon. He had heard stories and legends about this planet, all of them including a horrible and grizzly death. As his eyes flickered over the multiple weapons from behind his shades, he wondered what exactly he was doing here. He was a mechanic, not a soldier. This is the sort of legend special ops men go on, and never come back from. For a moment, his determination wavered, but he quickly restored it. He never backed down from anything or anyone anymore. He refused to let himself become less than human. His eyes drifted over the wall, unable to understand which weapon was capable of what, but unwilling to walk out without one. He finally saw the blades, and knew that from his past experiences, he could easily incorporate one of those blades into his fighting style. However, he still needed a gun. Making a mental note of the blade he wanted, he quickly went over the guns, and decided that something that shot multiple rounds at once would be his best bet. He dare not mention to anyone else that he had never fired a weapon before.

“I’ll take that blade over there, that gun, five spare clips, and a holster for both.” The merchant moved and gathered the necessary weapons and ammunition. As he brought the blade down, Luke knew he had bought the right one. It was long, and when held in a reverse grip, would curve around his forearm perfectly. It looked quick and lethal, just like him. It was not shiny, but not rusted either, and the handle was a simple brown grip. He had a feeling he would be using this more than the assault rifle he had just purchased. The merchant brought down the assault rifle, and Luke saw it was a lot bigger than it looked. It was called the Arichon Rifle. Basically, an infantryman’s favored weapon. It fired a good fifty rounds per second, and the clips held up to a 150 rounds. So, thought Luke, basically three seconds of happiness followed by a messy death, great. Looking at the weapon closely though, he saw a button to switch the weapon to semi-auto, and single firing modes. That would be handy; he didn’t need to spend all his rounds in less than a minute. Finally the holster came down, and Luke instantly figured out it was a front carrying holster. The weapon would hang on his torso, rather than his back, and he wondered if he would be used to the extra weight on his chest. The clips he could easily carry in one of his many pockets, and that was that. The matter had been settled.

“That will be seven thirty two” Well there goes a whole months pay down the drain thought Luke as he flicked through the cash to give the man what he needed. The man gave a smile, but it was anything but friendly. If anything, he had probably picked up on the fact that he had never fired a weapon by the way he had picked everything. To be honest, Luke had simply been copying the woman in front of him in hopes that she knew a lot more than he did. After the transaction was completed, Luke took his stuff, and went to a side of the store which wasn’t too crowded to test the weight of the items, and hopefully figure out how to fire the assault rifle.

The blade wasn’t too bad; Luke had handled the likes of this weapon before. After a few quick swings and flips through his hands, he attached its holster, and placed it on his hip. That was the weapon he was sure he would be able to handle. As he looked at the assault rifle, he quickly did his best to take in what he could from his limited knowledge. He knew there was a safety somewhere on the gun, and after a somewhat embarrassing look, he managed to find it near the barrel. The weapon already had a red dot sight, and the clip looked more like a box than anything. It attached right behind the fore grip of the weapon. He knew where the rate of fire switch was, and instantly switched it to semi-auto. He didn’t want to spend all of his ammunition at once, but didn’t want to try and have to aim this weapon either. The weight of the weapon wasn’t as bad as he thought, and found he could hold it steady fairly easy. However, the clip wasn’t loaded yet, and he didn’t know what kind of kickback this weapon really had. He really wished he could test it, but there were way too many people around here. Shrugging his shoulders to himself, he slid the clip into place. After a few failed attempts, the clip attached with a satisfying ‘click’.

Finally, he slid on the holster, placed the extra clips in several of his pockets, and placed the rifle where it was needed on the front of his body. He instantly preferred this holsters, as it would allow him to simply pull up and shoot rather than pull it from the side, aim, and shoot. It would be faster, but he would still need to practice with it. Looking at himself, he couldn’t help but snicker. He was armed to the teeth, but he was a mechanic. Now, there was only one more matter to figure out. He wasn’t going to be able to make this journey alone, and surely he wasn’t the only one here to search for this thing. As he looked through the crowd, he noticed the woman who had been before him. She easily towered over him, but it was not size that made him afraid to move towards her, it was more of a presence that she emitted. There was just something about her that made Luke extremely cautious, but he didn’t have the time to be careful. He quickly walked over to her, and made it look as casual as he could. He wasn’t exactly a pick-up artist. “Nice day isn’t it?” Instantly, his face went red, and he regretted saying that. It was the typical loser pickup line that he had grown up around. He quickly added; “As long as you have a gun in your hand around here eh?” Luke looked down. Wow, do I need some lessons.

[Hisoka]

Looking around the well stocked shop Tang seemed lost in one of his passive observation moods. It seemed as if this shop keep had enough weapons to start a small war. And for this monk far from his temple felt the hate and anger these weapons symbolized. A weapon serves only one purpose, to kill or harm. And far too often people think only of that instead of other options. ....I am being judgmental again. Tang chided himself mentally as his thoughts formed. His code forbid such things but recently Tang had come to doubt such things. Perhaps the world didn't need a judge but merely a reminder of the better qualities humanity had. But as he walked through the streets he knew such things would take time.

And thus despite his intense hatred of fighting Tang found himself in this gun shop deciding on what he should buy. But even with his hatred of fighting the monk was well versed in almost all forms of fighting. After all his order maybe peaceful but they were not stupid. Several racks looked promising and some he ignored. Melee weapons like blades were only of limited use on battlefield and with his martial arts training irreverent. Assault rifles were only suited for all out war and not self defense, Shotguns too limited in range, Handguns then seemed the right choice.

But which Handgun Tang thought with some distaste, a usual feeling when it became clear fighting was the only solution. Hand cannons where simply absurd. If one needed the firepower or range an assault rifle or a good SMG should be your choice. But the weaker calibers such as 9mm didn't have the needed range and firepower needed in a self defense weapon. So .45 caliber, but I need accuracy as well as firepower. Tang further mused on the hated subject of fire arms. For the monk knew it didn't take turning a man in Swiss cheese or blowing his head off to kill him. When unarmed a nerve pinch or a well placed blow to the heart or kick to the side of the head to snap the neck. When armed with a gun a well placed shot to the heart or head will put anyone down every time. Well helmets and body armor offered good protection it wasn't complete protection and a well placed shot was still capable of putting those guys down.

" Sir I will take the Armtrax M6 in .45 caliber with extended barrel, Armtrax Reflex Scope, Armtrax extended clip for .45, Armtrax Grip Conversion Kit, Armtrax Shoulder Stock Kit, Armtrax Service and Cleaning Kit, Armtrax slide and trigger conversion kit. Four Spare clips, and 3 boxes of ammo" Tang said placing a rather sizable order. Despite his hate of fighting Tang had a preference for Armtrax weaponry as they proved themselves the most accurate.

" Alright Pal, that' will be.... Fifty-Six Twenty-Seven Two." The merchant of death spoke with a slight pause as he figured the price of the monk's order. Tang for his part put down the money as the merchant of death put down his order. It was a sizable chunk of his rapidly dwindling money supply but he paid it. After all he was peaceful not stupid.

Gather his order Tang moved to an a quiet corner of the shop to begin attaching the various conversion kits and parts to his Armtrax .45. For while the stock weapon was nice it needed some improvement. And Tang had found that merely carrying a highly customized pistol often dissuaded most. After all the monk hardly desired confrontation.

[Guest]

Festus walked down the main drag of what was rapidly becoming his favorite sales den in all of Sheol, his latest profits on the inside of the shoulder sash that held up Mona. Poor girl, I shouldn’t have ever tried to swing her at that bandit, but I was out of rocks! He thought. She had a bad dent in her side and on the way back he tested it again and again to see the extent of the damage. The accuracy was shot to hell thanks to the bent barrel, and he HAD to get it fixed before he went back out. Maybe a sidearm wasn’t out of the question either. He knew the gun store owner had a workbench he could use, as well as the gun he needed, so that’s where he headed. “Don’t worry girl, we’ll get you all fixed up.” He said to the battered cannon he called his own. He lovingly patted the air compressor mounted on the side and walked into the gun shop.

“Festus Fly!” the gun store owner called out when he walked in the door. “Got any new stories to tell us or are you finally trading in that cannon you built for a real weapon?” Festus smiled, used to the owner’s lack of faith in ol’ Mona. “Maybe the first and most definitely not the second you old coot. You forget when I saved your sorry ass with this thing? Poor bandit didn’t stand a chance.” He chuckled at the memory. “Nobody expects to take a cactus bulb to the head at 200 feet per second! The old girl got a little banged up on my last trip though, so I need to borrow your bench. And I’ll need a sidearm just in case this ever happens again.”

Festus glanced up and down the rack of pistols on the wall for something that suited his needs. Mona was accurate for about 300 feet, but once you got inside 100 she got a little hard to aim because she was so big. So he needed something for his “dead zone” that could put them down just as well as Mona could. He looked at a .44 Armtrex, but decided against it because they were a pain in the ass to maintain. A Grist and Heller kicked a bit harder than he could handle one handed. In the end he picked up a Scarpetta .32 cal and a few extra clips. The pistol had enough stopping power and accuracy at short range to put down or slow down any of Sheol’s smaller predators, including bandit clans.

He sidled back to the workbench and slung Mona up and onto it before grabbing the tools he would need. He took her apart with the ease and familiarity a weapon’s creator always had, and started banging out the dent and working on the firing mechanism.

[SpaceWheeler2.0]

Nydin had silently followed the group as it was directed off the shuttle and into the small gun shop. Despite his conformity, it was a silence he couldn’t stand for much longer. It was taking actual effort not to force a conversation, but some members of this group intimidated him. He had observed the giant of a woman purchase her large handgun and then isolate herself in a corner. She was followed to the counter by the smallest of the group, albeit hardly smaller than Nydin. Ny struggled to hold back a chuckle at the contrast of sizes while they were in line but, for his own well-being, he managed to keep quiet. What surprised him most was the size of the rifle that the man bought. The next was not really the type to attract attention. He was a quiet individual, Nydin knew that much from their shuttle trip, but it was also apparent through his purchase that he knew about firearms.

As he walked away, some guy that the shop-keep knew just barged in and cut to the front of the line. It was that kind of attitude that was irritating, and just about forced Nydin to demand decency and respect to those waiting. The man was only slightly taller than Nydin though even thinner, but he obviously had no qualm about boasting of his crude weapon, which looked to be rather beat up. The man’s demeanor told Nydin to be cautious, but his unimposing stature and almost comical equipment didn’t seem to support that analysis.

Finally, though, this ‘Festus’ character scurried out of his way, and it did make Nydin feel more impressive to think of it like that. The young man stepped up to the counter next. “Excuse me,” he began, to get the shopkeeper’s attention. “I had a package sent ahead that should have been delivered to this location. It would be a lockbox with a biometric scanner, held for a Nydin Thelos. N-Y-D-I-N,” he spelled out.

[Shadow Moonseye]

The shop-keep looked down at the man that strode up the counter after Festus, and listened to the kid list off that he had a package waiting and what it should be. “Nydin, huh? Yeah I got your box.” The weapons dealer whistled, the sharp noise easily cutting through the dim noise of the shop. “Jack! Bring me that package we’re holding for Nydin Thelos; he’s here to pick it up!”

A loud crash sounded from the office, followed by a high pitched yelp. Rustling and clanging sounds emanated from the room, though the source of them was hidden from sight. The merchant let out an irritated sigh. “Get your head out of your ass and bring the damn thing out here! There’s a line and I can’t afford another of your fuck-ups!”

“I have it! Just had a little trouble, don’t worry! Was only the garbage, I promise!”

“Then bring it here! It better not be damaged, or it’ll be your head.”

“Yessir! Right away, sir!”

Not a second later the owner of the mysterious voice came into view. It was a short little bot, no more than two feet tall. Obviously an older model, being little more than a box on a tread with simplistic arms and single optic lens, the bot had seen better days. The metal casing that made up the body was rusted, patched, and dented; having the look of being repaired many times with less than adequate parts. Clutched tightly in the metal hands was a lockbox matching Nydin’s description, minus one little detail: there was a rather large and obvious dent in it. The little bot looked to the shop-keep, it’s single lens focusing on him.

“See? It’s safe and undamaged, yes?” The bot zipped forward, moving with surprising speed, and disappeared behind the counter. “I did good!”

The merchant reached down and pulled the lockbox from Jack’s metallic hands, gave it a quick once over before setting it on the counter in front of Nydin--though he kept one hand resting solidly on it. “There. Safe and sound.” He flashed a twisted façade of a smile at the young man, then shot a quick glance down at the bot. “Get to your station, Jack. I’m getting hungry and with you helping out, I’ll get to go to lunch faster.”

“You got it, Boss!” Grunts and sounds of struggle could be heard from behind the counter and a few moments later the small bot appeared above the counter next to the shop keep. If one were to lean over the counter, they’d find the bot to be standing upon a stool, giving it the needed height boost to see over the countertop.

"Listen up people! We'll get this moving along faster, so if some of you will move over to Jack, he'll take good care of you." His gaze wandered across the store and those within it, before coming back to land on Nydin. “Now then…that’ll be one fifty. For a…holding fee.” He smirked and held out his free hand for the payment.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alone in her corner, 708 watched the other patrons intently, scrutinizing them so that she might glean any information she could about them. From what she had seen none of them were military, which took her anxiety down several notches. They looked like regular people, some more at ease than others, but they weren’t a threat. And even if someone were to attack her, she was certain that she could easily dispatch them. After all, that had been what she was made for.

The woman let out a light breath, dismissing the thoughts from her mind, and turned her attention to settling her new gear. Nimble fingers opened the box of ammunition and with a practiced ease she loaded the spare clip. She resealed the box and slid off her bag, quickly opening it and placing the box of ammo inside. Next she set to work adjusting her gun’s holster; it was a simple one, made to rest comfortably on one’s thigh. She adjusted the straps to the proper size, and in a smooth motion strapped it to her right thigh. She gave her leg a shake to be sure that it wouldn’t slide around as she moved. She nodded to herself, satisfied. It would hold.

Quick footsteps approaching her drew her attention, and her head snapped up; her eyes instantly focusing on the approaching man. His walk indicated that he wanted something from her; his gait had swift purpose to it. Though he carried a rather large rifle, the extra weight was carried awkwardly. He couldn’t be very familiar with the weapon. He was shorter, but she knew that size mattered little in a fight, and often looks were deceiving.

His body language isn’t hostile. So he’s not look for a threat. What does he want? She watched him close the final distance between them suspiciously, having learned quickly in her first months of freedom that people always wanted something. Even the seemingly most friendly of souls were waiting for a chance to use someone. Am I block his view of weapons? No his approach was directed at me. Does he think I can answer a question? Maybe he..

708 trailed off as the man spoke, listening to his strange greeting. Why was he asking about the day? She frowned slightly to herself, before turning part of her attention back to her weapon. She ejected the clip of her gun, preferring to check it herself, rather than trust the shop-keep. A quick inspection of the weapon proved to her that it was in working order; with a deft movement she slid the clip home and holstered the gun. Turning her gaze back to the man, she spoke:

“If you know how to use one, yes.”

[SpaceWheeler2.0]

Nydin’s heart sank the moment he heard the clatter from the back room. He grimaced and squinted. A pain, not physically there, welled up in his gut as he considered what might have happened to the contents of his package. There wasn’t any comfort from the way the dealer hollered profanity in response to the unknown handler, either. He did manage to let out a sigh of relief as the little robot wheeled out with the lockbox. Containers like that were designed to take a beating so the contents wouldn’t have to, but that weapon was a precious item.

He couldn’t open the box fast enough, pushing his thumb to the electronic receptor while tuning out the old man’s commands to the robot behind the counter. Ny looked over the contents, removing the submachine gun and the two magazines he had for it, which were long cylinders. The small scope was fine and the high-power light attached to the right-side of the barrel was operational. Satisfied with his quick once-over, not trying to hold up the line, Nydin stopped the clerk as the man asked for the holding fee.

“One-fifty for hold---” he started in surprise, but stopped short. As outrageous as it was, he didn’t want to make a scene, so he simply shrugged it off with a shake of his head. “You know what? I need an extra helical-type magazine and three boxes of ammunition… Here’s a five-hundred,” he pulled out a bill and placed it on the counter. “I’ll take the change with my items.”

With that, and another shake of his head, Nydin stepped aside to let the next person step up. He was busy connecting the sling of his SMG, though more of a defense weapon with its assault-style ammunition, to his vest so that it would hang and be easily accessible. Once he received his purchase, he could fill his magazines and then figure out where on Sheol he would be heading first. Perhaps someone in the group was planning on heading up an expedition he could stick with, or maybe some of them were as clueless as he was.

[World Traveler]

Once outside the shuttle and having gone past the 'baggage check' Alex rolled his eye at himself. He was already used to crooked law enforcement and shady situations, but it didn't stop him from getting tired of them all the same. He was always getting himself into these things so what good was it to get tired of them? Once done beating himself up a little he headed down the dusty street towards the rather large sign that was in the shape of a gun. Once in the store and talking to the owner Alex was walked into the back room where a large and very expensive gun safe was. Tuning his back while the box was opened he found the man holding his PA-PA Rifle a few minutes later. Behind him was a small armory worth of weapons. Noting some of them he smiled a little as he took both the rifle and the converter.

PA-PA Rifle:

Meanwhile a young woman was stepping out of the shuttles unload area. Wearing a light outfit including a pair of short black shorts with a white shirt that was close to rags, but still served its purpose. The streak of purple along her hair fell down over her body, collecting with the black beads she wore around her neck. Dae had left the shuttle earlier and scanned the dusty backwater town the transport had foisted them upon. She smiled to herself, enjoying the arid breeze that teased her bangs after the confines of ship and station for so long. From her rough look of it citizens, though, she decided that this place's reputation as a harsh environment wasn't due solely to its climate.

No matter how many places she traveled to, Dae would never develop a liking for cryo, and normally the first thing she wanted coming out of it was a warm bath to work out the kinks, and ease the chill that always seemed to stay with her the first few days afterward. This time, however, she opted to arm herself first. Her pistol should have arrived by now and she could pick it up along with few other necessities at the local gun shop.

Using her comp to pull up the town map she'd downloaded, she followed its directions to the hellhole's one sleazy-looking gun shop. Grimacing to note that it belonged to a competitor, she pushed open the doors. With a practiced eye, she perused the shops wares, disdaining its content and lack of the lovely high-tech options she was used to. Since what she might have wanted was not an option, she settled herself on finding something reliable and deadly. Picking up a drum-fed crossbow, she nodded to herself, this should do nicely, and the manufacturer was respected for building workhorses that didn't jam or beak easily. "There should be a package waiting for me here?" She inquired with little emotion in her voice.

As Alex began to take the rifle out of its packaging he began to check over the weapon with a knowledgeable eye. It was a tool he was very familiar with as it's use was almost as vast as space ships. Anywhere you found land to be colonized you were sure to fine a PA-PA rifle not far away.As he started open the converter box and check the different mags the door to the store opened and in walked in a young woman. The presence of this fine beauty was instantly noticed by the others in the store. Her walk seemed to ooze an alluring poison. Everything about her seemed to cry both pleasure and pain which one you would receive was a guess. Seeing this woman enter and walk straight up to the counter made the gun owner walk over. "You....T. Saint? he said with a half growl.

The name sparked an almost primal response from Alex who stood up quickly and gathered his things. He had already paid the owner and was ready to make his way out of the store only to now be blocked by a very dangerous wall. Looking at a well polished create of food and catching a glimpse of purple he no longer second guessed his reaction. She was here and she was buying weapons. Careful old man. He thought to himself. She isn't just a customer. She could be a competitor.

Alex had kept to the back room now for over a minute. Wishing there was a back exit, but failing to spot one he knew he had two options. Come out know and risk a quick death or wait Dae out. An almost surprising little grin started to form on his mouth when he thought about the too. Telling himself that she wasn’t stupid enough to kill him with his knowledge just waiting to be sent out to the galactic media. He didn’t feel invincible but he did feel a lot more comfortable now that the initial shock was past him. With his gun slung on his shoulder with a strap he walked out from behind the back room and moved towards the cash register.

“Still using your old cover. How quaint." Alex now had an almost boyish grin on his face as he spoke. Dae wasn’t dumb enough to try and pull something in the middle of a gun store. At least he was pretty sure. One of the thinks he thought attracted him to her was her lack of rules. It was something he shared with her after all. “Seems the family business isn’t doing so good if your having to shop off the reservation.”

[Hisoka]

The tools in Tang's hands were deftly maneuvered as he took apart the Armtrax .45 the subtle click of metal against metal speaking volumes to this monk far from his temple. He hated the ease at which he was installing the conversion kits for it spoke of practice and use something that only came from years of fighting.

He was a peaceful man but the universe was not. Humanity it seemed was only intent on making a quick buck and killing anyone who tired to stop them. i am being too judgmental once again. Tang thought with a sigh. For it was hard at times to maintain the neutrality his code demanded of him.

But Tang nonetheless lived up to his code as best as he could. And it was made easier for his code let him help any in need. And thus he kept hi sanity when wandering the cruel universe. But the fights were what always got him down. So many lives he had ended simply in the name of self defense when enemies refused to realize they where out matched.

Perhaps his soul was a gentle one or perhaps he simply wasn't a blood thirsty savage like most of his enemies. In these dark times it is those that stay true to their ambition who are truly honest. Even if that ambition means walking a path littered with corpses. Tang reminded himself of an old saying. And despite his peaceful nature the monks path was littered with more then one corpse.

Shaking such black thoughts from his head he finished up the customization of his pistol. The Armtrax .45 with it's extended barrel now bore a reflex scope for close to medium target rapid sighting, a new trigger and slide to reduce draw weight on the trigger and increased firing rate, an extended clip that held 30 rounds, and a shoulder stock for long distance shots. Now the Armtrax .45 was a marksman pistol. It now was capable of the accuracy the monk demanded of weaponry for he didn't believe in collateral damage.

Using the new grip the monk attached the pistol to his waist using a long lanyard. That being done he tested it out with a few swings and spins to ensure it was tight yet had enough slack to let him manipulate the pistol as desired.

That old familiar distaste in his mouth he stuffed away his tools into the cloth sack he was using as a pack. Then a firm stride towards the door of the shop. He had come here to seek the key to purity. And being in this gun shop with it's scent of death and anger was sickening to him. A wiser head might have sought the aid of others but Tang did not desire putting others in harm. For the ruins he was about to explore had a nasty reputation.

[Gunneh]

The Sheol sun beat down upon his tanned skin, beads of sweat growing and falling from his brow and into his eyes. The perspiration stung at his eyes, but he never flinched, never faltered. He had one place on his mind, and while it pained him to make his presence known to the rest of the village, he couldn’t bear to stand another night without his smokes. And so he trudged through the dusty streets, his eyes focused only on the gun shop in the distance and the parcel that the old man had stored for him there.

As he neared the shop, the elderly man came into view, his chapped lips wrapped around a hand-rolled cigarette. Anoch’s mouth watered as the scent hit him, throwing a nod in the direction of the old man in a small greeting a small smirk forming across his lips as he saw the gesture returned quickly.

“I thought you might be in today, desert dweller,” the old man said calmly, a puff of smoke erupting from between his lips.

“It’s when you told me to be here, old man,” Anoch replied with a smile. “I’d be lying if I said that I wasn’t counting down the days till my order came in, anyway.”

“Well,” the old man replied quickly, “I’ve got it right here. Hope you don’t mind that I’ve rolled one for myself with it.”

“Not at all. Just as long as I’ve still got enough to last me till the end of the month I reckon.”

“That much and then some,” the old man said, chuckling. He picked up a bag from atop a barrel that sat nearest to him and tossed it to Anoch, and then a small pack of rolling papers. Anoch caught both and stashed both things in the satchel that dangled from his belt. “You not gonna stick around long enough to smoke one with me, kid?”

“That depends,” Anoch replied, his gaze suddenly lifting to the sky. “You expecting a shuttle today?” The old man nodded and Anoch shook his head. “Can’t deal with new people and you know it.”
“Yeah, it took you a hell of a long enough time to even come and talk to me,” the old man said chuckling. “Well, I reckon that you better head back over the hill then: That shuttle should be getting here anytime soon.” Anoch nodded and turned away from the old man, his eyes now focused on the outlying deserts once again.

“Oh, and kid,” the old man called out to him.

“Yeah?”

“If you’re gonna watch this group, make sure to keep a decent distance. I don’t need the sight of some scythe wielding giant to scare the newcomers away from the shop.”

**************

And so he watched, hi own chapped lips wrapped around the end of a cigarette, his head reeling from the tobacco and his eyes never wavering away from the group of newcomers. He blew out a long puff of smoke and smirked to himself, wondering just how many of them had come to try their hand at finding Eden, how many of them knew that it was impossible feat. A chuckle escaped him before you could quiet it and he stood slowly, finally turning away from the town entirely.

This was going to be interesting.

[wakeangel]

Dae had never liked calling herself Teresa Saint. While it had been an amusing charade at the time, now she associated it with bad memories and failure. So, she bit back a snap of annoyance at the owner. It wasn't his fault that her supplier, a long time Mingus employee with a prankster's sense of humor, knew the name was a sore spot, and it would be universally stupid to make an enemy of the one person within a hundred miles she knew she could buy weapons from.

"Yeah, I'm Saint, and I'll take this,” she brandished the crossbow, "with some extra strings, high-tensile stuff, not that cat-gut shit over there, that quiver and... a lot of those arrows,” she pointed to the thermite-tipped bolts, “some of those,” she indicated the smoke bomb-tipped containers, “and throw in a handful of those," she jerked her head with a saucy wink at the much smaller stockpile of explosive tipped arrows. “Oh, and pleeeease make sure you get it, not that clumsy hunk of junk you've got masquerading around as a robot over there, m'kay pumpkin?”

She loved flirting with the grizzled old crusty types because they were among the few men whose response she could never quite be sure of. Whether because of her playfulness or because of the load of cash she was about to drop, he turned to comply with her orders. As he moved into the backroom, though, he stepped to the side for someone exiting.

Her body recognized Alexander Howell's smug smirk before her mind did, pumping adrenaline through her system. "You!" The words came out in a low hiss. Even as she spoke, her body flew into motion of its own volition, vaulting her over the gun case and into a leap attack at Alex, her fist pulled back to strike.

[World Traveler]

The reaction to his voice that Dae showed was surprising to Alex. Normally there would have been some calm comment shot at him; however, this seemed to be an almost complete emotional based assault. Needless to say Alex was taken off guard as the young woman flung herself towards him. Taking a step back he pushed both arms up in an attempt to block the oncoming attack. It was a mostly pointless move since all ~110 pounds of the crazy chick was hurling towards him. When her body connected with his and with the weight of his backpack and his backward movement he quickly found himself on the ground.

Once there he made use of the fact that his backpack propped his upper body up slightly. Moving his arms out from under Dae, and then wrapping both her arms and chest in a bear hug he held on with enough power to make sure she didn’t simply pop up and start kicking and beating him. This plan did have one fatal tag attached to it. Looking down at Dae and seeing a lot of anger and frustration in her eyes Alex wasn’t really sure what to do next. If he let her go he was sure she wasn’t about to calm down, yet he was equally sure she wasn’t happy about the position she was in now.

"No Biting!” Alex shouted as he started to worry his attacker might resort to that. Letting go and then rolling her off Alex let the straps of his back pack fall loose and then popped up with the bag free from his back. Going up and ready to brawl he watched Dae roll and recover quicker than him as she was already getting ready to begin her next move. This time she seemed to even more angry as her first punch didn’t follow through. Keeping his mind sharp he heard someone move towards his bag and out of reaction turned to punch the little opportunistic thief. It was an action that cost him. Before he had time to shout at the thief he felt a small clenched fist connect with his stomach.

Going down yet again Alex started to cough from the punch and even felt a small dry heave start. It quickly went away which was a relief. For some reason he found himself time to recover which was weird since he was sure Dae wasn’t satisfied with that single punch. Yet, he was still untouched as he finally stood up. Still coughing he looked around to see what had held her back. He caught the sights of a rather disagreeable gun store owner with a equally disagreeable weapon in his hand. “Just an old friend” Alex said with a smile.

[The Melancholy Spirit]

Initial thought: The heat is nearly unbearable. A few planets have barely come close to comparison. Town itself seems quaint and humble in a sort of primitive, almost barbaric manner. As hard as its people, perhaps less so than its people actually. A mere child gave me the most curious stare as I walked off the shuttle, one of the last of quite a strange and unique group. Truly they are the interesting sort. A woman, near eight feet tall by estimate! Must say she caught my eye the most… quite an intriguing sight to behold.

Osiris lost his train of thought momentarily as he looked up at the shop in front of him. He mused over entering for a moment when someone spoke to him in a rather thickly accented voice. “I’d advise you do as the others and get yourself some protection.”

“Truly?”

The stranger nodded. “Truly,” he chuckled at Osiris. “Not smart to walk the streets without carrying some iron boy, you leave those gates without so much as a stick and your likely to be flayed and ate by some critter or another; or perhaps some peculiar bandits.”

Osiris blinked. “Well, that surely wasn’t in the broacher.” He scratched his chin idly and cast a glance into the shop again. “Any suggestions?”

“Yeah, anything that works.”

Osiris chuckled. “Anything that works, right…” He turned from the stranger and eyes the shop closely. It wasn’t much different from any other building he’d come across, as was to be expected. Osiris shifted his glasses and took the last few steps that brought him to the door and entered casually. For the most part it seemed as if those inside were the very ones who had been on the shuttle with him. He knew none of them not, as things had been quite silent for the entirety of the trip.

His eyes past over each briefly, taking in the faces. Soon enough he was among them, looking over the weapons that took up the better part of the shop. His lips twisted into a grimace at the thought of actually purchasing a weapon or, worse yet, carrying one on his person. After the quick examination he looked at those around him again. It occurred to him that he’d be traveling with at least a few of them. Each seemed like the type that could handle themselves quite easily in combat; particularly the big ones. This brought him to the conclusion that he wouldn’t be needing to spend what little money had had left on any such travesty as a weapon; wretched things that they were.

Thus he turned away from the crowd and moved to the door. He didn’t leave, though took a seat beside it and pulled up his notebook again. By rather poor decision making on his own part he found himself sitting against the wall the door would be hitting on the chance anyone else were to enter.

[Shadow Moonseye]

“I don’t care if she was your first fuck, you break anything I’ll string you up for the bandits to have.” To emphasize his point, the shop keep pumped a round into the chamber of his shotgun. He kept the beast of a gun level on the man and woman, his eyes narrowed dangerously on them. “If you’re going to kill each other, I suggest you take it outside.”

He shot a quick glance over at Jack, who was happily whistling to himself in his mechanized voice, completely oblivious to the fight that had briefly taken place. “Jack, get Nydin his shit. A helical-type magazine and three boxes of ammunition, two for his change.”

“Aye aye sir!” The robot chirped happily, throwing the shop-keep a rather comical salute, before he hopped down from the stool and collecting the requested items and change. A few moments later he hopped back up onto his stool, setting the items and change on the counter before him. “Mister Nydin sir!” He waved an arm about to get the attention of the young man. “Here are your items and change, yes! All good and ready for you to take.” The little robot practically radiated happiness, all to eager to help and complete the task set before him.

The merchant gave a satisfied nod at seeing the robot going about it’s duties, though his frown still remained etched deeply into his face. He turned his full attention back to the man and woman who had been fighting. “When you two figure your shit out, we’ll talk fees.” He flashed a nasty grin at the two before looking back over the shop. “Who’s next?”

[Casey Jewels]

Amelia wandered slowly towards the shop. She had hung back when everyone else had gotten off of the shuttle, to talk to the pilot, and now her mind was focused on what she had learned, instead of to the world around her. Maybe she would try out space, after this whole adventure was over. After all, the sky was not the limit.

The woman was opening up the door before she realized she was there. She started, her hazel eyes widening for a moment, and then she gave a slight shake of her head and stepped inside. She would have to keep her head out of the clouds if she was to survive this place. She had heard the stories, had seen her brother’s research. This planet was rough and tough, and so would she have to be if she was to survive.

She made a quick scan of the place, noting the people inside before moving towards the counter. She stopped far enough back to scan the weapons without getting in anyone’s way. She wasn’t here to fight, but others were. For this reason, she had trained somewhat with a Fairbairn-Sykes fighting knife over the past year, but she did not see such a blade here.

However, there was a similar one that had caught her eye, looking to be about eleven inches long. The blade was double-edged, and slender. The knife was short enough not to overwhelm her, but long enough to slash as well as stab. The multiple uses would be great, for her limited knowledge of weapons.

Her hazel eyes then flickered to the guns as she stepped up to the counter.

“That knife, please” she said and pointed at the blade she had been admiring. “And… a gun, something that I can learn easily, and that is long range.”

The shop-keep shifted his gaze over to the blade that the woman indicated, following her point, before looking back down at the woman. “Easy to learn long range gun?” He frowned thoughtfully, before nodding to himself. “I’ve got just the thing.” He turned and moved along the wall, before lifting a rifle from it. He collected the blade she wanted then moved over to the counter.

He set the blade down, and held the rifle up for her inspection. “Bolt action, single shot, rifle. Ancient as heck, but it rarely fails.”

She gave a nod of her head. “It will do. Extra ammunition, enough for three reloads.” She reached into the inner pocket of her dark brown jacket and pulled out a wad of cash. “How much?” She flinched inside at the question, knowing that it was going to be quite a bit out of her remaining funds.

The shop-keep reached under the counter and pulled out a box of ammunition for the rifle, and set it and the gun down. “Be seven thirty five, lady.”

She counted out the money and handed it to him before gathering her weapons together. With a quick thanks, she headed over towards the others who were done with the purchases. She didn’t say anything to them, but instead went over her two weapons, familiarizing herself with them.

They had cost her a lot, but that was a price she was willing to pay in order to protect her life.

[quakernuts]

Luke stiffened as the woman seemed to ignore him at first. He wasn’t used to this sort of greeting. It made it seem like he was trying to pick her up or something, which was completely not the case. She looked like she could handle a weapon, and hopefully she would be going in the same direction. That was it, nothing more. Then her eyes fell upon him once again, and he had the same feeling that a germ has when it is placed under a microscope.

“If you know how to use one, yes.”

Her words hit him like a hammer, and he almost flinched. Had she caught on to his act? Would she try to take advantage of the situation? Luke quickly flushed these words from his mind. In order to be someone or do something on this world, you needed confidence. Luke saw quickly though, that you also needed skill. His words did not come easily to him, and there was a slightly awkward silence as he figured out what to say next. Finally, he sighed, and continued. “Yeah, I guess.” He said in response to the statement, though his words were nervous and he scratched his arm while he did this. Seeing as her gaze wasn’t becoming any less intense, he decided to continue. “I was simply wondering which way you were heading.” Instantly, he recognized what had just come out of his mouth and his eyes widened. “I mean…that isn’t what I meant, I…I was simply wondering if I could tag along.” His face was getting redder by the moment, and he brought up a hand to his chin. “No, that sounds even worse. What I meant is that if we are heading in the same direction, would you mind me tagging along? You seem to know more about guns then I do.” Luke quickly looked away, completely embarrassed about what he had said. He should have chosen his words more carefully; there was no way she would even think about traveling with him now.

He wanted to simply shrink away, and forget this whole embarrassing experience. Maybe not having a girlfriend all through high school was not a great idea. He gave himself a moment to compose himself, and allow his face to go back to its normal shade of pink. He watched as several more people, people he recognized as being from the same ship he had come in on, purchased more weapons. After taking a deep breath, he returned back to the woman. It was about then that he hadn’t even introduced himself. As he opened his mouth to speak once more, he was interrupted by someone being tackled in the background. He turned around to find a woman pinning or being pinned against another man. Even as they continued to fight, Luke found his hand drifting towards the blade rather than the gun. When it came down to it, he was confident his blade would work better than his lack of knowledge with the gun. After several seconds though, the store owner bore them down with a stare from his shotgun.

The fighting seemed to die down from that point, and Luke calmly brought his hand away from the hilt of the blade. He didn’t like the looks of this place. They had just gotten off the ship, and already people were fighting. He was going to need someone else to help him if he was going to make it anywhere on this planet. He turned back to the woman, his confidence restored from the break of having to look at her after his shameful words. “You see, I’m looking for what every other poor soul is looking for on this hell hole. I don’t put myself above them, nor do I put myself below them. I want to find out for myself what this whole ‘paradise’ talk is about. Now, if we are heading the same direction, I wouldn’t mind having your obvious expertise by my side. I’m a mechanic, not a soldier, so chances are I wouldn’t last long out there.” He lifted the gun, and pulled back the firing chamber once to prove a point. “But I learn quickly. So, my name is Luke Highlander, and what do you say?” Now it was Luke’s turn to look intently at the woman. His confidence had been restored, but he knew that it wouldn’t take very much to break it.

[wakeangel]

Even as she attacked Alex in a high fury, a small part of Daeoneira watched in a shock as complete as his. This was not, could not be her. She never lost control like this. If anyone deserved it, it was him, and while she had to admit it felt good, she also worried about what it meant. If she was this angry, did it mean that she cared? No, of course not! She inwardly scoffed at the absurdity as she toppled Alex to the floor. She didn't care, not about anyone but Daddy. Not ever. She was just upset that he'd gotten the best of her in their last meeting. She was used to being the player, not the played.

He wrapped his arms around her, trapping her against him, and unbidden images of another time and place set her struggling wildly to be free. Thoughts of biting him soured, not because he yelled not to, but in remembering that he'd liked it last time. She had drawn her head back to headbutt him when he finally released her. Vowing to beat him to a bloody pulp, she rolled away and to her feet. She only got in one punch, though, before a hard, cold piece of metal prodded the back of her head. Instantly her anger melted away and she sobered back to clear-headed sanity.

Seeing he had her attention, the store owner backed out of arms' reach and chambered a round. “Sorry 'bout that,” Daeoneira told him unrepentantly. “Bad one-night stand, and by bad I mean lou-sy.” Just for spite's sake, she held up one hand and spread her thumb and forefinger about three inches apart. She couldn't be sure with him still glaring grrr and thunder at them, but she thought that got a tiny quirk of amusement. She didn't like his talk of 'fees', though. “Well, he owes me a shitload of money, so the way I see it, any 'fees' are on him,” she called as he turned to deal with the next customer.

She turned back to see Alex staring at her, his expression unreadable. “What?” She defended, crossing her arms under her chest and striking a defiant pose. “You know you deserved that.” For now, she ignored undercurrents of humiliation that he should see her lose it like that, filing it away for later examination along with the odd, tangled jumble of angry emotions she felt at seeing him again.

[Guilty Carrion]

A small plume of dust danced away in the wind, stirred by the speed of her passing. Booted feet thundered down the street, carrying the small woman ever faster towards her destination. A beaming smile stretched across her tan face, and her eyes glinted with excitement from behind her sun glasses. The locals had all told her to come to this shop before she left town, insisting she arm herself before she ventured off into the desert in search of the numerous Tervim ruins that littered the planets surface. Well, the sooner she got herself a weapon, the sooner she’d be out in the ruins.

Spotting the run-down gun shop, Eve’s already break neck pace increased, and she soon found herself on a crash course with the door. Her smile widened to Cheshire cat-esque proportions, just before her boot crashed violently against the wood and sent the door snapping inwards. She felt the shop’s attention shift to her, as she casually strolled up to the counter, uncaring of who-ever was in line before her. Her gaze flicked down to the small bot before her, and she raised a curious brow at it before looking to the wall displays.

She passed over the guns quickly, before looking over to the blades. Guns were useful, true but she had never really learnt how to use one, so they were out of the question. She bounced rapidly from foot to foot, growing more impatient with each passing second. Her smile dulled as she examined the numerous blades, frustration starting to sink into her features. How was someone suppose to know what was better than something else? Opening her mouth to complain to the mechanical shop-keep, Eve’s eyes found the hilt of a rather impressive looking machete, and her smile snapped back in full force. “I want that!” She jabbed a slender finger at the weapon, before rounding on the robot. “And a sheathe.”

The bot chirped happily, before scurrying off to get the requested items with little more than a “Right away, miss!” Leaning against the counter, she examined the others in the shop lazily. Most of them were sporting newly purchased weapons, and in the process of checking them out. A pair seemed more engrossed in each other, although she wasn’t sure if it was rage or lust that was driving the tension between them. A man sat at a work bench, tinkering away at some ungodly contraption that looked more likely to explode than do anything useful.

“Here you are, Miss!” The bot placed the items on the counter, its single lens watching her happily. “One sharpened machete and a matching sheathe! That’ll be 65 please, Miss!” She glanced over her shoulder at the metallic hand, before retrieving her wallet from her backpack and placing the correct amount in its hand. “Thank you for shopping! Have a wonderful day!”

What a strange, strange little bot… Moving off to the side, Eve fumbled with the straps for a minute, before finally getting the sheathe secure on her shoulder. Taking extra care not to miss the protective leather, she slid the machete into its new home. It didn’t seem to restrict any movement, so she practiced pulling the machete out, and sliding it back in a few times, before finally deciding she was familiar enough with the process to do it without hurting herself.

[SpaceWheeler2.0]

The small shop was becoming crowded with customers now, most of them continuing to funnel in from the shuttle that had brought many of them to the town. Standing off to the side of the service counter, Nydin was minding his own business. As he waited for his purchases, he took more time to observe those around him. A rather professional-looking man was taken to the back storeroom. Shortly thereafter, a rather bizarrely dressed woman strode into the shop.

Following a rather brief exchange of words, Ny was caught off guard by this woman’s sudden lunge at the man who had come in before her. The instant the scuffle started, he stepped to the counter, ready to leap over at a moment’s notice should they need to be broken up. His action wasn’t necessary, though, as the stout shopkeeper displaced a shotgun to abruptly end the situation.

At that moment, adrenaline began pumping through his system at a high rate. The intensity of the ordeal spiked, and he could feel the innate hesitation as to whether he needed to back up or jump in. His fist clenched around the hilt of his dagger, ready to pull it out should something go wrong. Yet as quickly as the scene had escalated, it dissipated with the shopkeep’s sudden refocus and order to the little robot, Jack.

“Thank you, Jack.” A smile and slight chuckle escaped him in response to Jack’s metallic comments and seemingly benign awareness. He took the items, noticing his body shiver, and goosebumps cover his skin, as he did so. After the rush of adrenaline, his body was returning to homeostasis, though it was a slow process compared to the almost instantaneous effects he had just felt.

Ny opened two of the boxes of ammunition that he had just received, knowing how many rounds it would take to fill the three magazines that he had now. One by one, he pushed the rounds in. He could hear the continued jawing between the two who had just been threatened with the shotgun. The woman was being particularly vocal, sounding like she was almost egging the man on further. All Nydin could do was shake his head.

He finished loading the first magazine, tapping the cylinder lightly against the counter twice before locking it into the back of his weapon. Before he began filling the second, though, he was distracted along with most of the room by a sudden clash of the shop door as another young woman burst through with a kick. As she strode to the counter, he was sure to quickly shift his gaze back to the task at hand, continuing to load his magazine with rounds. He was aware of her purchase though, looking up as she had practiced removing and replacing her new machete into its sheathe.

“Good choice,” he said to attract her attention, pointing at the sheathed blade on her back. “Looks like it fits well. I’m Nydin, Thelos,” Ny added, keeping his introduction short and his voice cool as he extended a hand in greeting. His gaze was momentarily drawn to the odd glow emanating from behind her glasses. “You are?”

[The Melancholy Spirit]

Little time had passed while Osiris sat near the door, preoccupied with his writing to pay any attention to what was going on around him. At the time he wasn’t writing any particularly creative; mostly thoughts, rambling thoughts at that, about what he had witnessed on the shuttle and since their arrival. Much of his writing in such times was incoherent, at best, shifting through the timeline erratically.

His thoughts were only interrupted as the door swung in forcefully, with him sitting in the middle of its path to the wall. The first contact, aside from the initial boot heel, the door made was against his right knee. Osiris lurched forward instantly from the shock, bringing his head into a collision course with the swinging object. Wood splintered, for the second time, as planks broke outward from the door. Groaning, Osiris leaned back, rubbing his skull first as he pushed the door away from him. Looking at his battered knee, the trousers torn slightly and already staining with blood; he noticed the other hole in the door.

Osiris cursed as he stretched out his leg and examined the knee. But the time he looked up to see what had happened he couldn’t find exactly who had thrust the door into him. With a shrugged groan he put his belongings away into his bag and forced himself to stand, favoring his knee quite generously. He casually brushed himself off, regardless of whether any dirt had found its way unto him or not. His eyes made their way to the shopkeep idly, hoping the man wasn’t aware that his door was broken.

With another shrug he pushed it shut, gently. Without much concern for the state of the door, or the desire to pay for any damages, he moved toward a more proper seat.

[Shadow Moonseye]

“You see, I’m looking for what every other poor soul is looking for on this hell hole. I don’t put myself above them, nor do I put myself below them. I want to find out for myself what this whole ‘paradise’ talk is about. Now, if we are heading the same direction, I wouldn’t mind having your obvious expertise by my side. I’m a mechanic, not a soldier, so chances are I wouldn’t last long out there.” The man lifted the gun, and pulled back the firing chamber once. “But I learn quickly. So, my name is Luke Highlander, and what do you say?”

708 blinked, but that was all the reaction she showed at being asked to travel with the small man. Travel together? She cast a glance past Luke to check on the two most volatile people in the shop. Their previous fight, however brief it might have been, made her uneasy. At the first angry shout her hand had strayed to her pistol and there it remained--just in case. Though, after the shop-keep’s intervention, things had appeared to settle down once more. He is searching, just like me. Numbers add strength, and having an extra pair of eyes to watch my back could be useful.

A slight frown turned down her lips and her gaze once more returned to Luke. But what if he’s a hidden watcher? If he discovers what I am…kill him. The thought came unbidden, and her frown deepened. Yes. I can easily kill him if he discovers it and he tries anything. No one has found out in the past year, so as long as I am careful chances are he’ll never find out. The risk is there, but the benefits of traveling with someone outweigh it. For now, at least.

“Ora Noc Terrol. Our destination is the same.” Her reached down and retrieved her bag, slinging it over one shoulder. “Traveling together could be useful.” Her face resumed the impassive mask that it had held before, and she gave a slight nod. “For now, you can travel with me.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The shop-keep collected the fees from the former lovers, casting a threatening stare when protests were raised over the price and who would pay. He did not want a fight breaking out again, and killing someone in front of paying costumers was just bad for business. He flipped through the payment of the displeased pair, double checking that the proper amount was there, before waving away the two. He stuffed the cash into a pocket, looking up just in time to see Festus approaching the counter with a repaired Mona in hand.

“Fixed your precious cannon, I see.” He chuckled, flicking his gaze down to the handgun that the Sheol native set on the counter. “Scarpetta .32 and two spare clips, along with using the bench…That’ll be five even.”

Festus laughed, handing over the cash with a flashy grin, before scooping up his newly purchased handgun. He turned away from the counter, and the shop-keep took a moment to look over his small store. Everyone appeared to have finished buying what armaments they were after, and now they were all loitering. He frowned. He was getting hungry, and these people were keeping him from leaving. The frown deepened, and he shot a glance over at Jack--who was quite happily whistling to himself.

“Jack!” His voice cut through the air like the retort of a gun. “Get these kids out on the road. Make sure they don’t piss anyone off; I don’t want to get stuck helping clean up bodies again! Once they’re out that gate get your worthless ass back here and check the stock. Got it?”

The little bot hopped down from its stool and zipped out from behind the counter. It snapped a salute to the shop-keep. “Yes sir! I’ll lead everyone safely, don’t you worry!” It chirped happily, before weaving between the legs of people and opening the door. It paused on the threshold for a moment, then rolled outside. “Follow me everyone! I’ll guide you, yes!”

The group filtered out behind the small robot, some more willing than others, and once the last person was outside the shop-keep slammed the door behind them. Outside the shop the air was blistering hot, the oppressive afternoon sun causing strange shimmers to morph the surroundings off in the distance. The hard packed earth radiated heat and the few bits of shade nearby buildings offered little shelter from it.

Jack clapped his metal hands together, getting everyone’s attention. “This way please! Keep close, you don’t want to wander off now!” With another all too happy chirp, the bot started off down the wide road that weaved through the town. “Once you leave the town, you all will want to keep following the road south. It’ll take you straight to Kel’s Outpost and Garage. You can spend the night there and she’ll see to it that you all have the proper transportation, yes. After all, you don’t want to get stuck out there on foot in this heat!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

708 took a moment to scan her surroundings; the time was used to reach up and adjust the way her pack’s strap hung on her shoulder. She looked over the group, her eyes easily find Luke in the small crowd; he’d have to catch up to her himself. She wasn’t going to wait for him. She checked the strap one last time then started after the small bot that was guiding them. Her strides were long, but evenly paced, quickly bringing her to the head of the group. Her teal eyes flicked around, never seeming to miss even the smallest movement of a native insect buzzing above their heads.

What are all these people here for? Are they also searching for Paradise? A desolate place such as this shouldn’t have much to offer. Her hands flexed lightly at her sides, before one came up to brush a lock of grey-streaked hair behind an ear. I should have found something to tie my hair with. It’s beginning to get in the way. Next time I get my hands on a knife I might cut it.

[World Traveler]

Alex watched as the entire scene halted before him. The introduction of a projectile weapon seemed to always be able to stop anything from going any farther. Both Dae and himself could respect the power a gun gave its owner after all. Both of them made a profit from them after all. When Dae made a comment about their last time together he scoffed at her comment about it being lousy. In his head he was starting to think back to the night in question. “I didn‘t hear you complaining at the time” he muttered with an undeniably sly smile.

His attention came back to the current situation when he heard that he was suddenly being tagged with the bill for both his and Daeoneira. Frowning and looking over at Dae with a look that held the definition of *What are you talking about owning you money* After that moment passed he suddenly had a very funny joke pop into his head and he began to smile as he decided to share the joke. “If it was so lousy then why am I having to pay for it?” The joke was a little bit over the top for Alex; however, the fact that Dae wasn’t about to blow his brains out somehow gave him a little bit to much cockiness. He regretted speaking up after he finished paying.

Turning back to Dae he held his hands up like he was not sure what to do. The truth was he didn’t. The thought of having to watch his back every second out of a sneaking suspicion that a trigger happy, freak in the sheet, ex… was Dae considered an ex in Alex’s eyes? She did say it was a one night stand, but there were the ‘mini’ dates at the clinic and even a few times around the area they shared where something had picked up. Of course how much of that time was with Dae and how much was with Teresa?

Alex turned back towards Dae and shrugged with his arms as if to say *what now?*“You want to shoot me? Go ahead and do it, but you know what happens if you do.” Alex now wore a rather serious face. He knew that this was a very tense moment for the two of them and he also knew that while completely defusing the situation was unlikely he was feeling lucky and wanted to try to at least make it so Dae wasn’t going to try to blow his brains out the next chance she gets. He already said what he wanted so he started to head toward the door where the gun owners assistant began to lead everyone. “Balls in your court Dae. You can either shoot or join the team.”

[quakernuts]

As Luke looked over the woman, he couldn’t help but feel almost like baggage. It was like what he was asking was going to be more of a nuisance than anything. Truth be told, if they took any form of transportation, he could fix it. It was simply fights he was no good at. The silence was completely unnerving, and Luke shifted in place. Maybe it was a mistake to ask for help. Would he appear weak for doing so? Maybe he should simply leave before she could answer. That way, they could both go their separate ways, but then he would end up in a grizzly death. He sighed inwardly to himself. There was no way around it. If he was to survive out here, skills such as marksmanship and hand to hand combat were going to be mandatory. Even as she started to respond, the cold manner in which she addressed him sent shivers down his back. He knew there was something she was not telling him. When spending so much time trying to get information from people about their cars when they don’t want to give it kind of makes you perceptive to such things.

For now I can travel with you huh? Oh well thank you miss high and mighty. Luke thought this, but all he did was simply nod. Already, he could tell that this wasn’t going to be a travel partner full of stories. In fact, he was wondering if she would talk to him at all along the way. Before he could say anything about the situation however, the problem at the counter resolved itself, and everyone was ushered out of the gun shop into the sweltering heat. Luke was instantly surrounded by people a lot taller than him, and he soon lost sight of his traveling partner. I didn’t even get her name, or better put, she didn’t give me her name.

Once outside, the heat hit him full on, and he was glad he had put on a hat and shades. The blinding sun was made into a bearable visual degree, and heat was something he was used to. He had spent a good part of his life in the engine compartment of a starship. That place was hotter than the weather here, so he wasn’t fazed at all. As he looked around, he managed to spy the very unique hair style of blonde and grey. Her long strides equaled to two of Luke’s steps, and he found himself running to catch up to her. Once beside her, he said nothing. He didn’t want to appear any more of a hindrance than he already looked like, but if he kept jogging to keep up with her he was going to collapse of exhaustion.

Luke wasn’t breathing hard yet, but the press of bodies around him and his inability to see past them was driving him nuts. He didn’t like being blind of his surroundings, and the only thing he really knew was that they were outside and being led away by a V1 C-17 ‘Clap Trap’ robot. Luke didn’t even think those machines existed anymore, but apparently they did. That was probably the least of his surprises that he would find down here. As he looked up at the woman, he deemed it necessary to speak. “I never did get your name…” He trailed off, but kept staring straight ahead. He didn’t like the thought of calling her by ‘you’, ‘she’, ‘her’, or any other number of things such as those. He calmly awaited an answer, refusing to look into her eyes once more.

[wakeangel]

“You're paying because you were lousy. I think you owe me something after that pathetic display of manhood,” Dae baited Alex. “And, my accountants estimate that you lost us over a billion on Waltz, so don't think I'm not taking it out of your hide one way or another.”

She conveniently neglected to mention that she'd been under the impression that the owner would be imposing fines for roughhousing in his shop. Or that she'd intended to pay for her own purchases and stick him with the fines. Him paying for everything was so much more satisfying.

No trace remaining of the violence she'd shown just a few minutes ago, Dae readied her weapons with a cool and easy familiarity. Other girls had dolls and ponies to play with as children. She'd had weapons- guns, knives and a whole host of other bloody options, both common and obscure, from the highest of high tech to the crudest club. It was part of her education, and as expected, she used them and learned until she was able to give in-depth analysis of the strengths and weaknesses of each. She still made a habit of collecting lethal oddities from her travels.

She slipped on the shoulder holster for her pistol and then started on her crossbow. Her mind worked furiously, forming, analyzing, and discarding plans as each piece clicked into place. Why was he here? The past had proven that his presence brought with it the potential for disaster, so she needed to move and plan carefully. Daddy would not be as forgiving of a second failure.

'Alex knows I'm seriously considering killing him right now, and he's cracking jokes!' she inwardly whistled, as she attached the crossbow's sights. She drew a bead on him to test the alignment, before nodding in satisfaction. It was as dialed in as it was going to get without a firing range. 'Smart-ass,' she thought staring down her sights at him. 'I forgot what a set of cajones this guy has. And okay, maybe, just maybe, his display of manhood wasn't quite pathetic,' she admitted privately, but she'd die before saying so.

Lowering her weapon, she loaded the arrow drum and, flipping on the safety, slung the crossbow across her shoulder. next, she loaded her quiver with the remaining arrows- smoke bombs to the left, explosive-tipped arrows to the right and the shafts with thermite arrowheads right up the middle. Satisfied, she donned the quiver, making whatever adjustments were necessary to make sure the cross bow, quiver and holster didn't impede each other, and then opened her package. She quickly pieced together the small pistol, and then loaded the micro-rounds into its clips. For her, the familiar feel of a pistol in her hand was almost a comfort, and as she slid it into its holster, a plan started forming in her mind.

'I almost start to like him again and then, just like any man, he has to go and ruin it by speaking...' She thought, his reminder of the the information he held hostage sending a jolt of irritation through her. “Of course, I want to shoot you," she tossed at him. "I just haven't decided yet if I'm going to.” Her glare turned to an evil grin. “Or where.”

"After you," she made a flourishing bow indicating the door. She was happy to let Alex lead the way, preferring to keep an eye on him, the sneaky bastard. Besides, it would give her a chance to study the other members of the group. She should've had a bead on them already.

Plans within plans circled her mind, growing in complexity. With a smile that promised havoc, she thought, 'Oh, I'll join the team alright...' As she caught up to them and took her place at the rear behind Alex, she took her pistol out and deliberately chambered a round with a crisp ssnick!-ssnack! just to mess with him.

[Shadow Moonseye]

Her long strides quickly put distance between herself and the rest of the group, so that she was walking a good seven feet ahead of them. A step ahead of her Jack the bot chirped and whistled happily to himself, his arms moving about in odd facsimile of a dance as he rolled along the hard packed earth of the road. The small robot guided them through the town un-erringly, giving no chance for rest or wandering off. A few inhabitants wandered the street, passing by without acknowledging the group that the little bot lead. Others leaned against the worn and patched walls of buildings, hard eyes watching the travelers suspiciously.

708 cast her gaze over the buildings as she walked, noting how everything in the town looked ragged; everything seemed to have been mended over and over. It was impossible to tell where the original structure ended and the repairs began. The buildings, the dust that was kicked up their boots, the harsh sun that beat down upon them, even the inhabitants themselves gave testament to the type of world that she would immerse herself in in the foreseeable future.

Such a bleak place. There are no fields of green to run through, no trees to offer shade, no open water to swim in. Could Paradise possibly exist on this world? Somewhere beyond the blurry horizon? The woman's gaze slid upwards to the impossibly blue sky. A slight smile broke the neutral mask her face naturally assumed. But the sky is bright and clear.

Behind her a pair of footsteps stood out from the rest, breaking into a steady jog. She shot a quick glance over her shoulder, the smile dropping from her face. Alarm sent the first spikes of adrenaline shooting into her bloodstream and her hand reaching for her gun--it quickly faded when her eyes locked on the form of Luke. He was jogging to catch up with her, nothing more.

She took in a deep breath and looked away. Need to stop being so jumpy. No one is going to sneak up on me, I wasn’t followed. She let out the breath, forcing herself to relax. Luke quickly closed the distance between them and was soon jogging alongside her. Silence reigned between them, broken only by the chirps of Jack. It was good. Silence, she was comfortable with. It could be relied upon to carry no upsets, hide no enemies, and guard secrets. She could trust silence.

“I never did get your name…”

She let out a light sigh, sorry to see the silence shattered by the voice of the shorter man. She flicked her gaze down to him, she could tell he was waiting for an answer though he studiously kept his eyes focused straight ahead.

Her brows knitted together and she frowned. What was she supposed to tell him? She didn’t have a name; at least not anymore. In the short year she’d been traveling her name had never been asked, she was always alone and her size seemed to have kept most curious souls away. She couldn’t tell him her number, that would raise questions and suspicions. She could leave the question unanswered, but that would just be postponing having to answer. Surely the man wouldn’t just let it be. If anything her not answering would be worse than telling him her number. Her frown deepened, mulling over her options. They were limited; none of the options were favorable.

A hand strayed to her cheek, her fingers brushing over the black ink that so clearly labeled her. There was a brief intake of breath, then she spoke:

“I don’t have one.”

Lesser of evils…It will have to do. The time will come when I won’t be able to avoid this topic, but for now it should divert questions.

[Casey Jewels]

Amelia found herself caught in the middle of the group. She was careful not to step on any toes or elbow anyone as she made her way to the side. She drew in a deep breath of the hot air, the heat already causing her body to become sticky with sweat. Was it always this hot here?

Her hazel eyes flickered up to the bright blue sky and she smiled slightly. What would it be like, to fly those skies? Would she see the bleached bones of those that had come before her and died in this search? Would she find evidence of Ora Noc Terrol?

No, there would be no such evidence. If finding it was as easy as flying the sky, it wouldn’t remain so elusive.

Her gaze dropped back down to the world below the skies and flickered over the others that had come here, all looking as if they were here for the same reason as her.

The group was varied, coming from all over the universe. Alone, would they really accomplish anything? Or would they just end contributing to the bleached bones that were found all over this planet? It made the most sense for them all to stick together, but at the same time there was always the chance that they would kill one another off. There had already been one fight.

The pilot sighed softly and looked up towards the bot, and the two individuals that followed not far behind it. They looked slightly awkward together, but they were a group, and had a better chance of surviving because of it.

She would have to make sure she found at least one other person, before she set off.

[The Melancholy Spirit]

Heat. Unrelenting. Paradise for the devil himself, if paradise at all.

Osirus walked near the back of the group. He wasn’t in a hurry to be leaving the town just yet, not under the sun like this. He’d have preferred they stay for the day and move at night; though he pondered the ill effect that might have. It wasn’t a concern for what might await them in darkness, but what the temperature may drop down to during the lightless hours. Arid places had a tendency to do that. He hoped the sand underfoot would retain a decent amount of heat and keep them from resorting to a huddle mass else freeze to death. Sometimes a huddle mass wasn’t such a bad thing, but as he looked around at those he was traveling with he decided it wasn’t much of an enticing though with this group.

Yes, paradise for the devil himself. An intriguing idea. Perhaps this what they meant all along? Might be why no one has ever found it. Or at least they have not found it and made it back to tell the tale.

More than once he looked down at his leg, which he favored noticeably, and the torn, blood-stained cloth around his knee. He groaned each time. Wounded before I even manage to leave this… shamble of a town. Looks like my luck hasn’t changed any. Should prove to be quite the interesting journey then, unless I end up dead of course. Then again death itself is quite an interesting subject… might not be so bad to experience it.

[World Traveler]

With his wallet lighter and the scorn of a very dangerous woman to his back Alex did not feel as confident as he looked. While he talked a big game only a few moments ago the truth was he was hoping to live for a little bit longer. When he heard the familiar tone of annoyance in Dae’s voice he couldn’t help but smile and let out a micro sigh of relief. He knew that if she was getting hot a bothered she wasn’t about to kill him. Also the fact that she was belittling him in front of people somehow felt normal to him. After all it wasn’t like he had ever found the quiet ones attractive, and Dae was definitely not a quiet one. With Dae resorting to non lethal methods of putting Alex down he became his normal happy go lucky self. “Please Dae if it was a pathetic show then you should have won an Oscar cause I am pretty damn sure you weren‘t acting back in that hotel room.”

The small poke was nothing major and was far less demeaning then what was thrown towards him. Still Alex left the building as he heard Dae return to threatening physical harm to him by way of shooting him. He walked out with a chuckle that he knew would stoke the fire in Dae. There was something about the woman that made it completely worth the risk, however dangerous, stupid, and silly it was to do. Once he was back outside the hot climate started to beat down on him with a relentless assault of heat and an increased amount of radiation as well. Thankfully he packed ahead and as such remembered to bring some protection.

Taking his shirt off and tossing it onto his bag he bent down and pulled out some protective skin care gel and popped the top. Squeezing down he felt the cold gel hit his fingers with a refreshing chill. The product was one of pure genius mostly found in its simplicity. The gel acted like any normal sun and radiation blocker only it had the added effect of cooling the body to a more desired temperature. The end result was no sweating which in turn meant less need to consume water. The gel was of course sweat proof; however, the cooling effect only lasted a few hours. It still blocked the sun and radiation, but the cooling effect was the best part.

As Alex applied the gel to his arms and chest he kicked the package he got from the weapons store. The box flipped open and the PA-PA weapon system became visible. Having always favored the second series for the weight and sight the young photographer smiled at the choice he made. Bending down and seeing the box of ammo mags already full of the free salt rounds he gave himself a nod of approval. The salt rounds were a excellent nonlethal way to hurt someone very badly and with a lot of pain. It was possible to kill, though hard since the bullets didn’t really go deep. Yet, being shot with something made completely of salt had a way of causing such blinding pain that it made the wounded person incapable of fighting with any efficacy.

Standing back up just as he finished with his legs Alex turned when he heard a ammo clip being slammed into a pistol. Once again the cocky smile formed on his face as Alex held the gel container over his shoulder as if passing it to Dae. “Tell you what you help put this on my back and I might just let you have some. Of course I could help you apply it also.” Since his throat was blocked from his rather testy friend’s eyes she didn’t see him swallow a little air in anticipation.

[color=red]x[/color]

[quakernuts]

As Luke continued to jog beside the woman, his breath started coming in slightly heavier. The heat was definitely getting to him, but to his credit, he didn’t utter a word of complaint or stop for a rest. He had enough rations and water to carry him through for quite the while, but he wondered just how long it would take for that supply to dry up with him jogging to keep up with this woman for the entire time. As he continued to jog, he risked a glance upwards, unsure if the woman had even heard him. She did like to take time with her answers, which always seemed to make the situation ten times more awkward then it already was. He noticed a motion with her left hand, but from his position, couldn’t tell exactly what it was that she was touching or doing.

“I don’t have one.”

That was definitely a strange answer. He had heard of people going by aliases, code names, and even numbers, but to not have a name period brought about a suspicious feeling in the pit of his stomach. He was about to repeat her answer as a question, but thought against it. If anything, he had heard the light sigh when he had spoken, and it made him feel downright inferior. He was not used to this whole atmosphere of things where no one cared if you lived or died, and would barely give you the time of day. He couldn’t go without giving her a name though. What if he needed to catch her attention for whatever reason, or maybe yell a warning? Though he doubted the warning part would be necessary.

“Well, I once knew a very tall girl by the name of Ashley. She wasn’t as tall as you, but then again, a lot of people are tall compared to me. She was a nice enough girl, beautiful too. Refused to talk to me though, seeing as I wasn’t exactly part of the ‘in’ group; so how about I simply call you Ashley?” Whether she read between the lines or not, Luke was giving a compliment and an understanding of the situation in one go. He never outright said something that might offend someone, but rather always used hidden ways or indirect routes to get to the same problem or answer.

Luke wiped some sweat off of his brow, and pulled his shades off to clean them quickly. He was absolutely boiling in his long sleeve shirt, and wondered exactly what he was thinking wearing something like this to a planet with a temperature of ‘scorching’ all day long. As he continued to wait for the answer through the awkward waiting period, he took a quick glance around. He couldn’t exactly tell who was who anymore due to him being completely surrounded by all of them, but that didn’t matter. He had already hooked up with someone who knew how to fight, and if anyone wanted to join them, he wouldn’t turn them down. More bodies meant more protection, and possibly better company than what he already had.

[wakeangel]

Dae squinted in the harsh glare of the sun. Her twilight-world genetics made the brightness reflected off the pale desert sand and bleached wooden buildings painful. Her overloaded retinal implants overreacted, nearly blinding her with blessed opacity for a few moments before finally settling within her comfortable lighting parameters. Blinking her eyes to clear the sunspots from her vision, she took her first look at her other traveling companions.

The really tall amazonian chick way out front not only underscored the ridiculousness of their robotic escort, she looked like someone who knew how to handle herself, a lot more so than the short wiry guy dogging at her heels. The guy in the floppy hat had a look of shrewdness to him as well. She wouldn't judge him as a special ops black belt or anything, but he looked like someone who'd seen a bit of action and wouldn't lose his head should things get dangerous.

All three of them looked more capable though than the guy with dreadlocks near the middle of the group. He looked so artsy that she wondered what on earth possessed him to subject himself to such an unforgiving climate. She decided she must be some kind of author or artist, since he gave off the vibe of a scholar without he savvy most archaeologists and field reporters tended to develop. The red-headed woman walking near him looked almost as dreamy. If shit hit the fan, Dae's money would be on her as the second to die, and that only because Dreds was already limping.

That guy. Her eyes narrowed as she spotted a man with a lived-in look that marked him as a local. He might be one to get to know a little better – if that hunk of junk slung over his shoulder didn't malfunction and take him out first. Locals always knew useful tidbits of information that never appeared in any guide book, especially in hell-spawned worlds like this one.

The rest of the group she dismissed as unremarkable until a flash of purple from somewhere within the middle of the group caught her eye. She continued to watch the spot and was rewarded a few moments later as the group parted a bit to reveal a woman so short that Dae had almost missed her. 'Well she looks ballsy,' Dae thought, vaguely remembering a booted-in gunshop door. 'I wonder if she can back it up?'

Alex stopped in front of her, drawing her attention from the group with an arresting display of musculature. She hid a bit of a smile, though, at the farmer's tan his lack of shirt revealed. The others continued down the street without them while he made his preparations. She couldn't quite say why she didn't ditch him and go catch up, but instead, she peered into his box with interest. “Huh, a Poppa,” she used the slang term popular for the PA-PA. “Hardly a mainstream weapons choice. Where does a photographer get those kind of connections?”

She snatched the proffered tube from his hand, and squelched the urge to empty it into his open backpack. There was a bigger picture to keep in mind beyond her urges for pettiness, and more to be gained than revenge.

“Since you already got the parts with some color, you sure you don't want to wait a bit for your tan to even out?” She taunted, but she was already slopping gel into her hand. Nonchalantly stuffing the tube in her bag, she rubbed her hands together and then smoothed them over his back and sides, her fingertips oddly gentle on his skin.

The coolness of the gel had to be what sent goosebumps up her arms. In preparation for assuming the role of Teresa Saint, she'd undergone a few procedures to make adjusting to varied climates easier, and while Sheol still felt decidedly hot, it wasn't the blistering hell for her that it obviously was for him. Without making major and time-consuming changes in her physiology, true adaption was impossible, but it did afford a few small perks, including a resistance to sunburn. So, when she'd finished, she stepped back with no mention of him reciprocating the favor. Giving him Teresa's welcoming smile, she held out her hand.

“Shall we play catch up then?”

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