Riders in the Sky - Space Cowboy RP

Discussion in 'ROLEPLAY GRAVEYARD' started by Solistor, Jan 31, 2014.

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  1. The grog of another early morning set in as Isaac levered himself out of bed. Clad in only a pair of dusty brown knee-length shorts and an off-color gray undershirt, Isaac made his way out to the kitchen. Upon not hearing or seeing any breakfast being made, he pulled out the skillet and fired up the burner, preparing to make his own meal. Lynn would usually make the food, but just as often Isaac would be expected to cook. It was an even household, another thing his daughter Alexandra carried over from her mother. Some days she'd be the cook, but Isaac would pick up the other days. As it were, Alex was probably still asleep; waking up this early was unusual even for Isaac. There was the barest hint of sunrise, but other than that it still looked rather dark outside. Once the skillet was heated sufficiently, Isaac cracked open a pair of eggs, dumping their contents onto the pan. He sat down at the table as the eggs sizzled and noticed the letter that he hadn't bothered to put away.

    All it took was one blasted letter. Isaac was comfortable with his new life, but he figured it would have to change sooner or later. One doesn't become an outlaw and suddenly turn around, after all. Jeremy was the only one who did, apparently. He did his time, and in doing so was granted a settlement to watch over as a "test of character". What a load that was. Jeremy knew his new colony was doomed to be put on Lock, but he still fought as hard as he could. In the end, it didn't matter, did it? No, that's what Isaac was for. Jeremy's last letter to him was a request for help, just like the old days. Isaac couldn't say no to his old friend, but at the same time he was wary of putting what he had left of his family in any more danger. He had already lost his wife, and his son had disowned him; Isaac feared the loss of his daughter more than anything had ever frightened him before. He shouldn't be afraid of losing her, though. Alex was a determined young woman, and capable of taking care of herself. She had learned more mechanical prowess than Isaac ever had, and the gauntlet she crafted was a thing of pure beauty. Even the slight modifications she made to Isaac's machine arm were useful, however much Isaac protested her tinkering with it. The smell of cooked eggs was heavy in the kitchen, so Isaac lowered the heat and placed his breakfast on a plate. Normally he'd have made more, but he wasn't feeling particularly hungry this morning. The anticipation of meeting his old friend for the first time in years was bubbling slightly, but more so the anticipation of what this meeting held in store for him and his daughter.

    Isaac looked out the window into the breaking sunset, the herald of the day he would set out to meet with Jeremy. He had meant to tell Alex what was going on, but judging from the way he left the letter on the table, she probably already knew. Now all that had to be settled was the matter of whether she was coming along or not. Isaac couldn't escape this decision forever, but he could delay it until Alex woke up and had her own breakfast, at least. Though part of him knew what she'd say anyway, he figured he'd at least give her the choice.


    ---

    The OOC/Plot Thread
     
  2. There was a large, bipedal lizard standing outside a warehouse near the Larsen residence. He slept little, and often exposed to the elements, which was healthy practice for a dry, amphibious lizard like himself. The giant newt was a Cherel - a predator, a soldier - adaptable and hardy. This Cherel bore an unusual name for one of his kind - Wendel Augsburg, given by human adoptive parents. They'd come to live on this rock after rescuing him from the fate of his worldkin. His race was tough, but not invincible. So Wendel became a mercenary - although he prefered to be called "Lethal Security". He had a revolver on his hip, a sword in his scabbard, a rifle under his arm, and a rocket launcher on his back. Prepared for armageddon and then another apocalypse. It was good practice. His income was split into three parts - ammunition fund so he'd never run out (and for hard times), living expenses like food and the monthly gallon of water, and finally, he spent the rest as he pleased. Perks of being a Cherel, he didn't have to worry about a feeling of need for luxuries or anything, save for an occasional squander for entertainment. He mostly spent his remainder on weapon service and armor plates. He was a walking tank; big, powerful, thick-skinned, and quick - but like a tank, he could be busted. He was always cautious about anything beeping.

    The reason Wendel was outside of the Larsen residence is because he'd just finished a contract and wanted to know if Isaac had any work for him. Isaac didn't always pay too well, but Wendel didn't ask for much from him, considering he's the local rebel hero. An old Skyrider, talk of the town. He couldn't save Wendel's family, but nobody can be everywhere at once. Wendel had a bit of a soft spot for the Larsens in general. Isaac was saucy, to say the least, and his daughter Alex was a block off the old chip. Their brazen nature was a relief. Normally, people around here were downright rude or just too nice. Wendel would often catch condemning glares and fearful gazes, but he only put the condemning glarers on his shit list. The Larsens, however, talked to him like any other good merc - with casuality and due respect. Wendel enjoyed listening to the two tell stories, cursing like sailors.

    Amongst other significant dwellers were some semi-human midget, and another lizard -albeit a reptilian. The newt and the lizard got along great some days and terribly on others. Wendel was not a fan of the midget. There was also another human who was a bit energetic. He was mostly a seller, but he took up mercenary work, too. A human juvenile, while he was at it. Wendel could teach him a thing or two about that sort of thing, mercing. Not that he'd listen, he'd probably try to sell him his own gun. In short, Wendel was friendly with him, but didn't trust him as far as he could throw him - although Wendel could throw him quite far. The Larsens were the only ones he truly trusted fully. He'd put his life in their hands, but would rather save theirs - and that's why he hangs around the residence. A low-paying job helping the local hero.
     
  3. Sprinting through the sand ridden road, Arkik traveled back to the lowly colony, ready to claim his stake at the bounty placed fro the neighboring colony from since clearing out the last home for his client.

    He had recently been trading lots of canned goods with the places he's been traveling to. Since the last time that he's seen his sister, the UGF has been placing nearly everywhere that wasn't regulated by them specifically on lock. Although worrying, this gave him a great chance to spike the prices on his goods, that way he could get a good profit on the goods since not a lot of merchants wanted to take the chance of traveling through unregulated space.

    But recently his luck had turned sour, on his way to purchase more goods, a group of bandits had managed to "procure" his goods and managed to damage his ship "Alice" in the process. Long story short, he happened upon the settlement that the bandits resided in and decided to get some payback. But before he could, he caught a glimpse of a small flyer on the wall of the small settlement's pub, advertising that they needed help with an extermination problem. And the reward? 3,000 credits?! This was enough to catch his interest and realized that it was enough to repay his entire loss.

    But then again, things never were this easy. He was sent into another ghost town, apparently a bandit camp to remove them by any means necessary, and with some steam to blow off, this seemed rather... necessary.

    -Squinting his eyes, he caught glimpse of the settlement some distance off, about maybe 500 meters. It was really hard to see, since it had started getting windy and sand was flying everywhere. People were already heading inside of their homes on the straight path that divided them. There were shanties of various shapes and sized on the left, while the pub and the marketplace were on the right.

    Arkik slowed down and eventually stopped in front of the pub, bracing on the wall and eventually slumping to the ground. "How long has it really been since I've seen them?" He sighed. " Alice.., Dad, and Mom." He pulled off his backpack and reached inside of it, pushed his hand deeper and deeper until he felt a synthetic casing. He pulled out a blue box and rested it on his lap, popping it open. Inside was an ham sandwich, a warm bottle of water and a chocolate granola bar. Arkik ripped open the granola bar and gnawed at the chocolate. After licking his fingers, he tossed the wrapper aside and shoved the box back into his bag. He stood up, and dusted his body off. The storm seemed to be dying down, and he was anxious to receive his reward. Arkik ripped the worn bounty off of the old wall and pushed open the doors, determined to claim his reward...
     
  4. Fumbling about with her mask, Insania watched the other beings around her in curiosity. The quiet young girl listened to nearby conversations going on between other females that seemed to be around her age. She watched people laughing, smiling, having good times. These things were quite normal to see downtown. Of course, basic crimes occurred normally here as well, but people just shrugged it off. She would catch glimpses of pickpockets, shady men in trenchcoats, and fights all the time. But, quite honestly, she saw no real point in the emotions that were causing these people to feel such urges.

    Insania came from a quaint, small, and traditional village someplace in Japan, and was normally degraded by Humans throughout her daily life because of her species. She came from a small group of beings known as "Goliathans". There were about 26 of them total in the galaxy. The people in her village had very bad luck, and often believed she had brought a curse upon them when rumors spouted about saying she was a Demon, and simply tricking them. Eventually, they all died of a disease that caused paralyzation throughout the entire body, and she left to live in more urban places. Over time, she found more and more alien beings coming down to Earth, and eventually it became normal to see them day-to-day. Some of these aliens were very similar to Humans, and others were extremely different.

    Insania sighed slightly, and stood up. She tied on her mask, dusted off the skirt of her monochrome dress, and headed towards the nearest cafe to relax and hopefully look at the world in a more positive light for a little bit.

    That's when she came across it. As she was waiting in the long, stress-ridden line, she saw a paper tacked up on the billboard near the register. She tried her best reading it, making out the words printed on it. It was a 10,000 credit bounty for some wanna-be mafia gangster that was responsible for leading a gangbang.

    As soon as she reached the front of the line to order, she shook out of her thoughts and ordered a few cappuccinos.

    "That will be 20 credits, Miss," The cashier gave a fake "work smile" as he set down the filled cups, and waited for her to pay.

    She blinked for a moment, realizing she was broke, "Crap! 20 credits?! I don't have that kind of money!"

    The cashier refused to lower the price, and when he called her ignorant, all Hell broke loose. After a few wordy insults and a threat to beat him to death with a tree branch, Insania found herself being thrown out of the building.

    She sighed, mumbling to herself in thought, "Maybe I should consider doing that mercenary job."
     
  5. A rare, deep, satisfied sigh emanated from the cloth-bound hunter. In it's hand it held firm the hair and scalp of another being, his latest target. This one was fairly easy to find, and almost as easy to kill. The creature, one of the desert-faring Kysmrr, wiped the blood from it's mouth and finished chewing the bit of thigh meat before covering his face once again. He always ate a small bit of his kills, so every death at his hands became a part of him. This was the Kysmrr way: as they will one day die to feed the universe, becoming a part of it, so too shall what dies by their hands feed them, and in that become part of them. The scalping was just a personal interest for this particular individual.

    The bounty hunter was Brachus Karamrr, better known as Injun. His target's name was of no concern, for he hunted not by name, but by sight and smell, no different than prey when he lived with his colony. Injun would normally return to his client with the scalp immediately, but this time, it was different. He was watching the sun rise, something he rarely did anymore. besides, he was in the place he considered sanctuary, the town that housed the great Isaac Larson, former skyrider and legendary outlaw. Word was he settled down. Perhaps Isaac would have a job for him-- he was always looking for more work. Something to do. Injun got bored easily when he wasn't on a job. For now, though, sunrise. Then collect his bounty.
     
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  6. [​IMG]


    Above the skies of the town that the Larsens dwelled, a ship flew. Not a small ship either: a UGF privateer ship, a unique design and class of ship. It slid through the air, engines burning precious fuel usually reserved for larger, space-oriented ships. It flew down at a 45 degree angle, rapidly losing altitude. It circled slowly, to keep within a certain area around the colony town.

    As the dropship, an OT-83, approached the ground, the thrusters rotated from the side of the ship, facing downward instead of backward, and burst even brighter, bringing the subsonic descent to a stop above the ground, approximately 100 feet from touching down. Then, and only then, do landing gears appear in its giant underbelly, and does it slowly lower itself down to touch down, unloading multiple vehicles [2 previously mentioned tanks, 3 previously mentioned transports, various soldiers and a walker-mech], and various crates of differing size and labels. After unloading the ungodly amount of supplies does it start up again, engines firing. It rises slowly, hovering at 50 feet, where it switches modes and the engines slam up to point backwards, engines bursting painfully bright, as the ship shot away at a far greater speed than it came down.

    And it's gone, leaving behind a small task force with enough supplies to last them a year, 4 miles outside of the colony town.
     
  7. Alex woke uncharacteristically early, with a gasp. Her body was drenched in sweat, but she felt cold. The worst part was, she couldn't remember her dream. Nothing but her father's corpse hitting the ground, over and over and over. She sat up, sighed and rubbed her eyes. She threw back her covers and threw her legs over the side of her bed, welcoming the cooling air on her skin. She rubbed her eyes again, trying to get the dark circles under her eyes to disappear. Another sigh escaped the girl's lips, followed by a yawn and stretch. Following the sound of sizzling eggs, Alex made her way to the kitchen in her pajamas; white shorts and a black tank top.

    "Mornin'," was the simple greeting to her father. Standing next to him, one could see the similarities between the two. While most of Alex's facial features were reminiscent of her mother, Isaac's lean stature and height were traits that Alex shared. That, and they had the same scowl, which was arguably the easiest similarity to see. She leaned against the counter, watching her father cook as she ran her fingers through her tangled raven locks. Aside from the sizzling eggs, the room was silent for a while. "Mind tellin' me about the letter?" she asked, her voice slicing through the silence of the room. "Who's 'Jeremy', anyways? Never heard of him." She crossed her arms, idly scratching at her elbow.

    The letter that was sitting on the table was one that Alex had read several times. If she wasn't meant to see it, her dad would've moved it. Instead, he just left it lying around. Her father was going to leave. He didn't say anything about it, of course, but Alex could tell by his expression that he was going to leave. If she knew her father at all, Alex guess that he would be gone before the day was over. She watched him scoop the eggs out of the frying pan and onto a couple of plates. She'd finish eating before pestering him with any more questions. She sat quietly and ate her breakfast, then waited for her dad to finish.

    "So...?"
     

  8. Isaac nodded to his daughter when she greeted him, just as he started to prepare her breakfast. She'd have to know sometime, but Isaac preferred to do his talking after breakfast, when everyone was awake and ready to take in information. It was never a good idea to talk when everyone was too tired to pay attention.

    "Mornin', you're up early." he noted with a hint of a grin that faded as she asked him the question he figured she'd ask sooner or later. It wasn't that he didn't want to tell her, it was more he wasn't sure how to tell her. Despite the fact that Alexandra was eighteen, Isaac still thought of her as his little girl. "After breakfast, Alex." He said, using her preferred name. Isaac had long gotten used to her change in demeanor over the years, but it still weighs heavy on his heart that his daughter had to be subject to an outlaw's life. After breakfast started to cook, Isaac poured a fresh cup of coffee grounds into the coffee pot and set it on the stove to boil. Once everything was ready, Isaac set breakfast down in front of Alex and sat down in the other chair, taking a tentative sip from his coffee. After Alex finished her eggs, Isaac had still only taken that one sip. The whole time was spent thinking over how he'd explain everything, and he figured the best way would be to just give her the facts.

    "Jim- er, Jeremy and I go way back. I knew him for as long as I knew your.." He stumbled a little, silently cursing himself for tripping over that hurdle once again. "Your mother. We were all about your age back then, and spent most of our lives growing up together on a rebel ship. It's no secret to you that I used to be a Skyrider or, to put it bluntly, an outlaw. I guess I just never mentioned Jim when I told you about me and Lynn's past." It wasn't out of malice or hatred or any sort of ill will, Isaac just never thought to talk about him too much since Jeremy was nowhere to be found for years. It was only recently that Isaac had even learned that Jeremy was still alive, and running his own colony to boot. His latest later was the last in a series that detailed the UGF doing what they do best. "We were all the best of friends back in the day. It's sad that our reunion has to come after Lynn's death." Isaac looked out the window into the rising sun. "I'm sure she would have loved to meet up with our old friend again, regardless of the circumstances." He paused for a while, taking a drink from his mug, before turning back to Alex. "That letter was the latest in a series of letters he's sent to me. Apparently his colony's being put on Lock and he's asking me to come in and teach the UGF a lesson." He grimaced a bit. "Thing is I still have you to look after, but I know you're a grown woman now and capable of makin' your own decisions." He looked his daughter in the eyes, his stern countenance meeting her own, as he said this. "I've decided that I'm going to help him, whatever that may entail. Which means I'll probably be on the run again for a long time to come. If you want to live your own life, then be free to. You've earned that by living in this place and going through what you have. You shouldn't have to be tied down by an old man's failures." He looked his daughter over for a few seconds before continuing. "But if you want to come along, I won't stop you. Just know that you may never get peace like this again."

    Isaac stood up, having finished his coffee, and washed out the mug, putting it on the dish rack to dry. After turning off the burner and washing the skillet as well, he turned back to Alex. "Choice is yours, but I'm leavin' today. By the time sunset comes 'round, I'll already be on my way."
     
  9. It seemed to be well into the morning now, and Injun had finished eating what he would of his kill. He was on the move now, headed toward the town. He didn't know many of the shopkeepers very well, but well enough to know that if he needed something they would get it for him. The got mad sometimes because "his ugly bug-mug drove away the customers", but he well know they were more afraid of what he could do to them if they gave him reason. Not many races save his own and maybe a few others with certain philosophies liked him, mainly because of his "savage ways", how he "brutally murdered" his targets and "desecrated their corpses". It wasn't his fault that he was raised to eat what he killed. Although the scalp thing he could be blamed for. But not the eating. Injun often wondered about that, why he should refrain from eating sentient being merely because he is sentient himself. They were dead. What did it matter what ate them, for if not him it would surely be some creature of the vast wastelands. People confused him greatly.

    He was about halfway there when a massive wind gust blew sand across his vision. Had he not been wearing his goggles, he would have been blinded. His eyes never developed sandproofing like most other Kysmrrs. A rare thing, but not unheard of. He began walking against the wind, to see it's cause. The roar of the passing air sounded--and felt--much different than a natural gust. He drew his revolver as he found the source, a UGF dropship. Of people. With guns and supplies, for quite a while. What would UGF be doing in this hellhole, of all places?

    People confused him greatly.
     
  10. Ryker was pissed.

    God damn maggits can't do shit without leaving something or someone behind! Always gotta have a fuckin' supervisor to make sure they pack their bags!

    They had forgotten the alcohol. The most important thing. And bedrolls, but sand can be comfy anyways. But really, they had to lose the damn alcohol. It was those damn UGF inspectors, I bet! Couldn't hide it well enough, my damn elites. Good at shredding someone from any distance, but ain't worth a crap when it comes to lugging all the crap around!

    And so Ryker rampaged through the camp that was quickly being set up, makeshift fences, supply depots, fuel stops, the workshop, the landing pad, the training field, the barracks. A couple watchtowers, latrines, and the 'Capital Square,' for the times when a UGF 'official' drops down and wants some fancy crap to welcome him and make him feel special.

    So Ryker stampeded across the base, murdering every little reptile or whatever desert creature that happened to get lost in the sea of soldiers and supplies.

    Once the first watchtower was set up, he rampaged up there, too. And he also took a look around the now-clearing desert. The colony in the distance, to the North... nothing in the West... Nothing in the South... and a figure moving towards his base, from the East.

    First target.

    He immediately slid down the ladder, got a crew of 3, hopped in the now-fueled APC, and drove out of the base, heading towards the figure.
     
  11. The artificial sandstorm had passed now, the ship flown away. Men were rushing around setting up a base, obviously they planned to be here a while. After a few more minutes of observing the bizarre spectacle, Injun stuffed the scalp into his carry bag. A vehicle was moving directly towards him, holding at least three men. Nope, four. Four of the strange, stupid men were headed for him. Fearing the worst, he prepared his spear and revolver for combat. HE hated guns, but in this day and age they were the most efficient and widely accepted. You defeat a gun, one usually needed a gun. Hiding behind a rather large rock, he prepared to spring out and take aim. Seven bullets should be more than enough if it leads to conflict. If they recognized him, it certainly would. Unlikely, though, as he changes clothing styles often. But better safe than sorry, he supposed.
     
  12. "So my choice is stay here and live alone, as the daughter of an outlaw, or go with you and risk my life? Either way, I'm still gonna have a bad rep in someone's eyes." She rubbed her eyes again, sighing as she pondered her decision. "Well, if you're leavin' today I guess I better make a goddamn choice," she grumbled taking both plates up to the sink. She wasn't too keen on dying, but she didn't want to spend her whole life on the desert of the planet she grew up on. "Whether or not I go, I'm still the daughter of an outlaw. That ain't much more than being an outlaw so, what's the point in stayin' outta trouble?"

    She sat back down across from her father, staring at him with her cold grey eyes. She remained silent for a long time. "Ah, what the hell. Who's gonna keep you out of trouble? I'm goin' with you." With that, she left the table to pack her things. Was her choice smart? Not really. Did she care? No. Would she enjoy herself? Most likely.

    She wan't quite sure what to pack, or how much she'd be able to take so she started with the essentials; two sets of clothes, her toolbox, and her gauntlet. After that she gathered up a few other books and manuals, setting them to the side to pack in if she had room. She decided to toss in a few more sets of clothes, as well as some extra 'girly' stuff. 'Girly' stuff being a silver necklace and flower-scented deodorant. She never wore the necklace, but it used to be her mothers. Alex shrugged and fastened it around her neck and taking a quick glance at herself in the mirror. She tied her hair back and brought her bags to the door, for when it was time to go. I'll just walk around the house, say goodbye, she thought. Ah what the hell, Alex? It's not like you're dyin' or somethin'...
     
  13. The old man stood there, leaning against the kitchen counter slightly as he listened to his daughter. For a moment, he was worried that she was angry at him, but shook it out of his mind. If she wanted to hate him, it would only make it easier for him to let her find her own way. However, after she stared him down the way she answered sounded almost carefree, like it was a spur of the moment decision. Isaac grinned to himself as Alex left the table, remembering his past and all the rash decisions he had made in his time. It was kind of funny seeing parts of himself reflected in Alexandra. He should expect it, but he'd never know how his little girl grew up to be so much like her no-good father. He walked past the table and picked up the letter again, giving it another glance before putting it back on the table and making his way to his room.

    Isaac never kept much on him, and his room reflected that. Having lived on the run for the greater part of his life, he learned to not put much stock in material items, and he tried to teach the same values to his kids. Even so, Isaac was willing to bet that Alexandra had more to pack than he did. Isaac opened his wardrobe and pulled out the only clothes he'd ever kept: a pair of dark grey work jeans that had seen rough days but always pulled through, his heavy brown boots that were perfect for kicking down a door or two, a white leather overshirt that somehow wasn't ripped to shreds, a faded red bandana that Isaac wore mostly for decor nowadays but still served a purpose, and his frayed brown Stetson hat, a relic of the years he's spent with the Skyriders along with his torn duster that was hanging on the coat-rack by the door. All these clothes were laid out on his bed, but there was one thing he needed to do first. Kneeling down, Isaac opened the sliding door to the drawer on the bottom and picked up his most important piece: the mechanical arm that kept him functional as a human. He resented the fact that he needed such a thing, but at the same time it would be pissing on Jeremy's honor if he dumped it. Not to mention all the time and effort Alex had put into it would be wasted as well. Wanting to get it over with, Isaac took the metal limb and shoved it into the mechanical socket attached to his shoulder. The burst of pain that followed was intense enough for Isaac to yell out and shudder a little.

    "Damn this thing..." he breathed as he twisted the joint, locking it into place. It almost felt like repenting for his past crimes, but Isaac knew better than that, especially when he was about to go and do the same damn thing he used to. It was a bittersweet irony, and Isaac wanted to spit that metallic taste out of his mouth. Well, he spit something out, and it did taste metallic. Touching his organic hand to his lips, he felt something warm that he knew the feeling of all too well. Wiping the blood off on his trousers, Isaac stood up and shook his head.

    "I'm gettin' too old for this shit." he grumbled, wiping away the rest of the blood that had apparently leaked out when he put in his mechanical arm. Blasted thing fired up every nerve ending in his shoulder, so it wouldn't be too far of a stretch to assume that's what caused the bleeding. But Isaac had more important things to worry about. Pulling on all his clothes, he made his way out to the front door where his duster resided. As he pulled it on, he saw Alex's bags sitting beside the door. He may have had less to pack, but he sure took his sweet time doing it. More thoughts of aging swam through his mind but he quickly shook them out. It wouldn't do to dwell on things out of his control, especially with where he was headed.
     
  14. Ryker halted the APC a hundred meters from the rock that the figure hided behind, and signaled his gunner to load the dual MG turret. However, before they did anything, Ryker changed his mind, and signaled to the driver again. The APC sped off once again, now to the town on the horizon, with another APC, 2 squads, and a tank en route as 'reinforcements' to secure the town and find the target: Isaac and his daughter, Alexandra.

    If he had gunships, he knew he could take care of it easily enough, but they were needed elsewhere, for 'subjugation' purposes. More like riot control through missiles, but Ryker didn't complain; it'd get him less resources. So, with an APC for his current unit, and assistance incoming, he moved to the next spot on the map: Isaac's home.
     
  15. Insania sat up on the rooftops, watching the people beneath her. She untied her mask and set it down beside her, looking up at the sky. She let out a gentle sigh as her aquamarine orbs watched the ships above her that nearly blended in with the darkness, their lights twinkling like little stars. Insania smirked to herself and put her mask back on, making sure it was fastened correctly before sliding down a rusted light pole and reaching the ground.

    She looked back up at the sky, wishing she had the money to have a ship, and maybe even explore space. That's when it hit her, 'Who needs money when you can steal?'

    Not even bothering to plan her escape to space, she ran to the nearest ship dealership and waited for them to close. That's when she'd strike.

    It was about midnight when no one was around, and in the time she was waiting, she had carved a beautiful stick figure masterpiece in the wall she was waiting by. Insania strode through the shadows gracefully, allowing them to shield her presence to anyone that may end up seeing her. She picked up a rock and flung it at the camera watching the back entrance. After successfully breaking the camera, she crept over to the door, and picked the lock with some of her hair pins. When she finally managed to get it open, she immediately ran in with no regard for the security cameras around her.

    She grabbed every key she could find, and ran back outside with them. Insania looked at every ship until she found the perfect one. A big black and white one that looked perfect for spray painting a smile on later. Pressing the button on it's key, it immediately unlocked and she giggled to her self. She threw out all of the other keys and ran in gleefully.

    "Success!"
     
  16. Isaac's cry of pain echoed throughout the house. Alex chuckled humorlessly. He was putting in his mechanical arm, her dad wouldn't even grunt if it was anything else. She shrugged, stopping in the bathroom to stare at herself in the mirror for a few seconds. Is this who I'm gonna be in a few days? Am I gonna be missin' any limbs like dad? Her thoughts were beginning to wander in strange places. She sighed and turned on her heel, meeting her father at the front door. Neither of them had much in terms of luggage, their combined bags was probably half of a normal person's.

    Alex met her father's eyes and nodded. "I'm as ready as I'll ever be. Let's get the hell out," she remarked, scooping her stuff off the ground and tossing it over her shoulder. "Reckon we'll ever be back here?" Her face was blank, her tone holding only a slight curiosity. She didn't look sad, or angry, or scared. Alex looked like Alex usually looked; blank with a hint of irritation.
     

  17. Isaac nodded as his daughter came up next to him. "Yeah, sooner we shove off, the better." He said, taking a final look around the house, a silent farewell in his gaze. He pushed the front door open, its creaking hinges breaking the stony silence of a journey yet to come. Alex's question pierced the dusty air, and Isaac responded with a look in her direction and a pause. "Not sure." he conceded, shrugging the strap of his rifle further up his shoulder. "Could be that we never see this place again. Even if we are successful, I'm more than sure we'll be subjected to the UGF's dogs chasing us down again." Isaac stared at his daughter long and hard, unsure of whether he could make peace with himself if he got his daughter into the same kind of situation that lost him his arm. "Best not to get too attached to the place, I reckon." Letting out a long, breathy sigh, Isaac rolled the shoulder his mechanical arm was attached to and started down the porch steps into the dusty desert town. Familiar faces greeted them, and Isaac waved back, but didn't exchange more than simple greetings with any of them. There was only one person he needed to speak at length with today, and that was Wendel.

    No sooner than Isaac wondered where the Cherel was did he find the lizard-man not too far from the house he had just vacated. Wendel was irritable and harsh sometimes, but then so was Isaac on his bad days. The two got along well enough, and Isaac didn't treat him any different than he treated any other mercenary: as an equal, brothers in arms, that sort of thing. As such, Isaac was more than happy to hand out jobs to the Cherel; though he quit the outlaw life, he still kept an ear to the ground and passed along any useful information to Wendel. Today, however, he needed to see the mercenary for more than just information or a job. "Howdy, Wendel." he greeted the Cherel, reaching up and tipping his hat slightly. "I'm just gonna skip the formalities today; I'm a little short on time." He noted, looking back at his daughter. "Me an' Alex are visiting an old friend of mine, a war buddy of sorts." He had at least told Wendel about his time as a Skyrider, and how he had met his wife and all the ruckus that happened after settling down. "Seems like his colony's about to be put on Lock and he needs me to take up my old guns and bail him out. Thing is, the old ship I got out back's busted to all hell an' my wife was the only one who could fix the damn thing. Alex knows a lot about machines, but that thing's older than she is and we'd need a more professional hand to get it back up and running." Isaac folded his arms and tilted his head a little. "You know much about how to fix a busted AR-450 model Ryder? I can't pay much, but I'll give you a cut of however much I jack from the UGF." he added with a hint of a grin.
     
  18. So no merc work for the moment, then. Whatever, the Cherel thought, it was still work, and he was still needed. Naturally, with his folks being smugglers, they knew their ins and outs about Ryders and other craft. They had to know exactly what sort of part they had to get their hands on for those high-paying, less-than-reputable mechanics. Of course, despite his vocation, Wendel had picked up a thing or two from them - he wasn't a fully fledged mechanic, but he could get something to run until you got to a professional. The Cherel smiled and gave a nod to Alex. "I can get it goin' long enough for you to get it fixed. What's the problem with it, anyway, besides bein' an old rust bucket?" The Larsens also were the only people Wendel had an easy time carrying a conversation with. They minded each other, he and they, so they coexisted well. "Am I gonna have to jury rig it to work without a certain part? Need me to refit some connections? Electric or combustion engine? Never really saw the use for combustion engines, 'specially since they need an internal atmosphere to even work. Still, I hear some people prefer 'em."
     
  19. Injun had drawn his gun and dagger, laying the spear on the ground. He had taken a risk, and he was about to pay the price. His muscles tensed, preparing to spring out and attack, when the vehicle drove past him, seemingly to another target. putting away his weapons and picking back up his rifle, he continued his journey for the town and it's supplies.
     
  20. Pushing the door open, Arkik strolled into the pub and took a look around. There wasn't really much around, some chairs here, some oak wood tables there. Or maybe it was birch? "Meh" he sighed. He never really did take much interest in what kind of wood the seats were made of. As long as he could sit on it, it was good enough for him. Same goes for his blades, he glances at them and smiles. They got the job done, and that's all that mattered.

    There were various customers inside ranging from settlers listening to some drivel about some football game, while there were other mercenaries and even outlaws whom were looking to lay low from the UGF. They stood to the far right of the pub, having idle chit-chat and throwing knives at a worn dart board. "Jeez, this place is really.... low-key to say the least."

    Looking for the best seat, he plopped himself closer to the center of the place, between two half-lings bickering about money problems and a female reptilian accompanied by a small child.

    "Mommy can I have a ice-cream?" the boy asked.

    "Jimmy, I already said that I can't get you one." the mom replied.

    "But mommy, you promised that we'd get ice-cream today. It's the last day of the month."

    "Jimmy I already said that we don't have enough money to cover the ice-cream, do you want us to lose our home?"

    And with that the boy started bawling...

    "MOMMY MOMMY MOMMY LIAR MOMMY LIAR MOMMY LIAR!" he began making such noise that other's began to look at the reptilian, as if expecting her to discipline the boy. She began to glance around frantically and shushing the boy, trying to get him to calm down.

    "I'll buy you an Ice-cream..."

    The reptilian glanced up at Arkik, bewildered at this strange act of kindness from a stranger. Arkikio reached into his pocket and removed 500 credits from his pocket and slipped them into the boy's hand. He glanced up from his tear drenched sleeves and looked up at Arkik, tears, snot, and everything... and smiled. Arkik chuckled, the look on the boy's face reminded him of the times that he and his family would spend together. His father would always be out for 'work', as he calls it, while he would share an Ice-Cream with his sister. Those were the times... but enough nostalgia. "Take it. It should be more than enough for the Ice-Cream and a little bit to go toward the the family dues."

    The reptilian continued to stare at him, with her slitted eyes and scaly skin, and after a moment of recollecting what happened she finally spoke. "Why are you helping us? We aren't of importance to you. You could of better spent that money on something else. Like a-"

    "Oh don't give me that bull about how I can spend my money better!" he snapped. "I gave you money because I felt like it, not because I was being 'nice' or had a specific reason!" he lied. At least he thought he did. In honesty, he doesn't even know why he gave them money, it just happened.

    Arkik took a deep breath to calm himself down, he was already back a couple hundred credits and he needed to find more. "Anyways, I came here for a reason. I was looking for the person that handles requests. I had did one of them and I came to collect my reward." The reptilian quickly scurried outside of the pub and was out of sight within moments. He had half a mind to chase her down, but what's done is done. He slung his backpack back on and casually strolled to the bar, taking a stool and resting his head on the table.

    "Hey boy, you should go look for Issac"

    "I'm sorry?" Arkik glanced up.

    "You said you were filling out requests right?" The bartender picked up a couple of mugs from the table and began wiping them with a cloth, then tossing them into a sink.

    "What, oh. Yeah. I have this thing here." He handed the slip to the bartender, whom did a quick once over before handing it back to him followed by returning back to what he was already doing.

    "Yeah, see Issac for that kinda thing. He's basically the foundation of the place, and also happens to be considered to be the sheriff around here. If you're looking for pay for your.... activities, you best see him." With that, the bartender placed another mug into the sink, picking up another and starting the process all over again. Arkik left the pub, looking for the most sheriff-like house in the surrounding area. He eventually found a residence with 3 people chatting on the porch. A rather decent looking home, compared to the rest at-least. Squinting, he could make out a female with long jet-black hair, a rather strange looking reptilian, and a peculiar looking man in a hat which he presumed was this 'Issac' person. He trudged through the sand and made his way to the front porch, where he saw the three conversing. He could just get his reward and be gone in the morning, but where there is people, there is a potential for money, plus a chance to run into those sick bastards that took his stuff. Turning to the man in the hat, he stuck out his hand. "You must be Issac correct? I'm Arkikio Crystais, glad to meet you..."
     
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