[StarRail PSL]

[themightybosstone]

[The world was one of a constant, strange, cyclical war.

When the night fell on the highest moon of the furthest month, a Howling Storm took the planet, cut its cities off from each other and the visitors from their homes, When the Storm's first whining, hot wind struck, the imposing gates of the iridescent metal of this world would close, folding up and over, in a wall only Qlipoth could love.

The thud of bodies, the scrape of claws, mandibles and fangs added to the cacophony that the setting of the red sun provoked. It ebbed in the morning, but never enough to be safe. Never enough for the walls to come down.

In defiance, however, in these little hubs of survival, the nightlife was something quite impressive. Loud music played, lights blared, the night market was a roar of throats - the call of sellers and the flirtation of buyers.

All to carry on like a shield wasn't holding back the certain death of nearly everyone in the spaceport.

But you're here, waiting for the tired relief of morning. For the spaceport to open back up in a week.

It should have already ended. It SHOULD have been open yesterday.

But the Storm is longer than it's ever been here...]

Comments

[vitainmorte]

[ There was a certain safety to being trapped in a world beloved by the Preservation; if nothing else, its followers had their walls and fortifications, even if it was often a false sense of security. Independent travelers have the benefit of being able to take off and leave when things broke bad, if nothing else, and so Valencia was in the unique position to do so if needed. Alas, she could not ignore the people, and if this "Storm" insisted on creating such trouble she did have to remain to protect who she could.

... Not that she could leave anyway, just yet. She was not much of a nightlife person but after days of hearing the hustle and bustle of everything below her hotel room the curiosity got the best of her. She was, unfortunately, not immune to hawkers' persuasions, and even aside from a nice little dinner she'd also found herself in possession of some skewered fruit, coated in hard sugar-- a treat entirely foreign to her world but nonetheless familiar enough to be tempting.

Not wanting to be tempted by anything else while she ate, though, she took herself to a quieter (not by much) space to contemplate the shielding curtain above them. Hadn't it been longer than predicted...? ]

[themightybosstone]

[ Honestly? Sett was out looking for a fight, and the world just was NOT obliging him. Half of him - the worst half of him - would love to tear through those walls and fight the whole damn swarm of whatever the stars is out there.

Luckily, if that steel could keep whatever was out there out, it could almost certainly handle keeping him in.

Still, the irritation of knowing his quarry was getting away while he was trapped her needed an outlet.

He really didn't expect to find it in a familiar face.

For a moment, his tail swishes, the Foxian tip poised-

- And a proper introduction to someone who's stabbed you before?

Yeah. It's attempting to steal a bit of that fruit right off the skewer. ]

[vitainmorte]

[ The way she's holding it, it's not really hard to steal a piece if you're not determined to be too stealthy about it; distracted as she is by the sights and sounds and smells she somehow doesn't notice the hulking figure at her back until she feels the tug on her tanghulu and--

-- And there he is. On reflex she drops the fruit skewer (he can certainly catch it if he's quick enough) so she can reach for her gun or her knife but.

But there's people around. Too many people, and they're too obvious, and they're both too out of place with the other species on this planet in general-- and she owes him, after all. So she freezes, awkwardly, with her hand at her waist before forcing herself to relax. ]

-- You again, borisin.

[themightybosstone]

[ He DOES catch the skewer.

And flicks one of the tanghulu berries into the air and catches it in his mouth. It crunches between his teeth - they're only slightly fanged. But she's seen how much that's a lie, the crack and rearranging of bone into something far more formidable. ]

Oh. Hey. This aint bad.

[ He's not offering the skewer back, notably. ]

[vitainmorte]

Do you make a habit of stealing other peoples' food?

[ her snack... her neckwings do droop, slightly, but not enough to notice if he's focused on crunching berries. But she still remains reasonably tense, looking up at him. ]

[eggshell]

[When she comes out of her nice little reverie, she'll find that she's not alone. There's a guy standing a ways away, swathed in a giant, oversized white jacket, the lower half of it draped over a tail.

He seems to be clutching a metal briefcase to his chest with one hand - and a stick of the same sweets she's eating in the other. He also seems to have just stopped by the nearest source of light, bent over slightly, having trouble eating the candy: he bites into one, and it falls apart immediately, falling to the ground.]

[vitainmorte]

[ Well there is the reflex to-- help, perhaps. Maybe he's having trouble. She takes a step or two closer.

And then the recognition begins to filter in, because there's no way you keep tabs on the IPC's bounties and not recognize the man who sits at the very top of it, even ridiculously overdressed. So she freezes, and stares, every feather on both pairs of her wings and every hair on her body beginning to lift with alarm because Imbibitor Lunae is right there and-- and what if he intends to do something, here? Are the people in danger? Is his existence in this place heralding a greater force of abominations outside the walls?

Her free hand lowers, to the gun at her hip, while all of these thoughts fly through her mind. ]

[eggshell]

[He looks up at the slightest rustle of her feathers. His eyes glow like headlights in the shadows, and he opens his mouth.

Or tries to, some of the sugar seems to have stuck his fangs together. This might be a good time to bolt. Or maybe she'll have mercy on him as he makes weird hacking noises as he tries to lick away the stickiness. Look at him! He doesn't even have any sort of weapon or sharp thing visible on him! How cruel!]

[themightybosstone]

[It's a little bar off the way of one of the main, raucous streets. It promised dim lighting, cheap beer and noise to rival the main street.

And as you walk by, the tenor of it changes slightly. Both cheers and hollars of reprimand as some heavy, half-stone creature is launched through a window and sails through the crowd. Several people scatter, and a few less fortunate are bowled over as the Graphin skids to a halt, stone grinding against stone.

A giant sized Foxian climbs out the window after it, cracking his neck.]

That it? Come onnnn, lets have another go.

[eggshell]

[There's a guy, drinking something vaguely spicy and likely illegal from a swiped carafe, watching the brawl. He carries the distinct, sickly-sweet smell of the Abundance, condensed into something so pleasant it's almost disgusting.

He's also carrying a briefcase, cuffed to his wrist. It looks very shiny and metallic and secure and Mr. Foxian here will see it up close and personal as Dan Feng strolls into the fray and tries to hit him upside the head with it.]

1/2

[themightybosstone]

[ He's just looking up as the sheen of hard metal flashes and collides with his head with a resounding, RINGING THUD.

Unfortunately, the skull is about the most dense, invulnerable part of Sett's body, and he just pppppppppauses for a long moment, shaking his head to rattle the pain out of his sinuses-

(the skin that parts heals again, a spicier note of the Abundance slithering through the air, the borisin gift and curse making short work of the edges) ]

[themightybosstone]

[ There's some part of instinct that knows Dan Feng's scent for what it is. That might have connected the regal stature of the vidyadhara, the scent of scales so rare in that species, the lack of the tatters of Long about him and screamed danger.

There's all the pieces and some rational part of his brain is sitting there slamming them into place.

Unfortunately, he's never once listened to that part of his brain and isn't intending to start now.

He staggers up, one foot on the chest of the hillock formerly known as a brawler. ]

HEY FISH FACE, WANNA GO TOO?

[eggshell]

You impertinent whelp?! Who is the fish face?!

[The script only says some sort of altercation with a Foxian with an 'interesting' scent, a branching divide of 'get arrested or get kidnapped', and the finale being 'get off the fucking planet with the stellaron' within the next four system days.

There was nothing there about how absolutely rude the creature would be. Dan Feng sets the carafe down on the pavement, and runs in, swinging the briefcase again.]

Later

[themightybosstone]

The Boss: can u post bail

Re: Later

[vitainmorte]

I'm sorry? Why?

Re: Later

[themightybosstone]

The Boss: i was mindin my own bizness and som chump nailed me in the head w his suitcase

Re: Later

[vitainmorte]

[ suitcase... ]

Not that I don't believe you, but I have a hard time imagining you minding your own business.

Is this suitcase man in jail with you, then?

[vitainmorte]

[ It's a few days later, after they've reached the nearest planetary system, allowed the solar batteries to charge and Valencia's checked over the hull. She didn't plan on making landfall at the port, here, but one or two small repairs force her hand-- that, and the fact that these boys are likely going stir crazy.

So it's a new day, the ship is finalizing its small repairs, and there's been no sign of destabilization of the (alleged) stellaron. In fact, it's almost like the whole thing was just a bad dream. Huh.

Val can be found during the day working on the ship, out buying supplies at the nearest market, or-- much later at night-- overheard talking softly but tense and polite over the comms radio with... someone, in her cockpit seat. ]

[eggshell]

[Unfortunately if it was a bad dream, this means the one (1) dragon coming up behind her cockpit seat and reaching out to press random buttons on the control console is a hallucination.]

We need to talk.

[vitainmorte]

[ Val swats at his hands immediately with a scolding hiss, but the voice on the other end-- similar to Val's, but with a definite air of Authority, says,

Valencia. Who is that? ]

I-- I'll call you back, I need to take care of a problem.

[ and she disconnects the call, turning to scowl at him. ]

What? What's so important that you have to interrupt me?

[eggshell]

[He looks at her long enough for it to be obvious he's lost his train of thought, fascinated by the voice on the other end of her call.]

Who was that? [ENROACHING INTO PERSONAL SPACE.] Your maker?

Whatever. Nsfw

[vitainmorte]

[ To say it's been an enlightening few months would be an understatement; it was easier than expected, Valencia was surprised to find, to get used to having others in her space. To share her life, in some ways, what little warmth she thought she was capable of providing in others. To miss them when they had to separate.

Never for terribly long, fortunately, but this one such instance she found herself entirely alone-- Dan Feng gone on his own missions (supposedly: texts from Silver Wolf indicated otherwise) and Sett having to remain behind while she progressed on her own , their ways unfortunately split by circumstance. The worst of it was the lack of touch, having grown long used to one man or another in her bed or in arm's length, and now she found herself yearning for it. The little things, the grazed fingers over her back as someone passed by a crowded spot, or the gentle curl of a hand around her arm. The press of a cheek against her shoulder in bed. A kiss on her neck. Warm hands against her belly. A frustrating realization now-- before them, she never wanted.

But with Sett back now and warm greetings aside, she'd at least had the grace to wait for bedtime to crowd into his space in the mattress, draped over him and basking in his warmth, face buried in his tits. God she missed this. ]

... I'll postpone my next mission a bit. So we can stay in this system little longer this time.

Re: Whatever. Nsfw

[themightybosstone]

[ It feels like coming home, being at her side. It's been on different planets, different stations, but the spaces she'd made hers on the huntress' ship it was as comfortable as the small, fast little ship he'd claimed as his.

The ache in his bones from a still-healing fight earlier seems to dissolve with her slight weight on his chest and the radiating warmth from her body.

He no longer worried about curling an arm around her, after all, she couldn't smell the satisfaction of territory. As long as he kept it from the top of his mind-

Without Dan Feng here- probably - you never KNEW when he'd wake up to those glowing eyes and horns as the other man did his best to slither between them as if he could take root between their ribs - he could truly just relax into- ]

What? Really?

[ She NEVER delayed missions. He half shifts up under her, just to be sure she's not joking, the Foxian tail wagging madly against the bedding. ]

Re: Whatever. Nsfw

[vitainmorte]

[ Ah. Her cheeks burn red, but she nods, peeking up at him through her hair. Though him pushing up does mean she slides down into his lap a bit, straddling. ]

It isn't anything so pressing. Nobody should complain so long as it's done before deadline...?

...

I'd... like to spend some time with you. To-- relax.

Re: Whatever. Nsfw

[themightybosstone]

[ Oh hello there. There's a little flush across his own skin, creeping down under the neckline. ]

Yeah, deadlines. Right. We'd meet those easy no matter what.

So... You can relax. Right here.

Long as you want.