themightybosstone | [StarRail PSL]

[StarRail PSL]

[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...]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ 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...? ]

[ 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. ]

[ 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.

[ 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. ]

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. ]