[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]

[ She hesitates, watching him stare at the picture. She could extend her telepathy, maybe. See what he's thinking. He's close enough, after all. But-- no, she decides she'd rather not know, and goes to take her bags to a door off the main area, down a hallway.

Sett will find that the room is clearly meant for crew; there's some bunks built into the wall but he can easily move one of the other beds against the lower of these to make his mattress big enough. The room isn't terribly small, at least, and there's a private shower room just down the hall from it, not far from the larger doors of the cargo hold. Considering there's no real decorative pieces down here as well, or even things like personal towels or clothing, it seems like the hunter's own facilities must be up near her actual room.

She eventually does come down, to investigate what he's doing (and see if she needs to change anything around... he's so large, after all). ]

...

My name is Valencia. You can call me what you wish.

[themightybosstone]

Val, then. Good to meet ya.

[THUMP the bed settles by the other, and he paces around it, long tail swishing.]

This'll probably be a right treat.

[vitainmorte]

[ She just watches him quietly, a little uneasy. "Val" already... well, she did say to use whatever...

As far as a "right treat" goes she has no reason to suspect anything off so. Clearly he's just talking about being on the ship. ]

Sure. Make yourself comfortable. The kitchen is upstairs, but I'm afraid it's a bit low on stock right now. If you use the last of something, I would like it to be replaced. The showers have basic amenities, but you're welcome to bring what you wish.

[themightybosstone]

I make a great breakfast.

[He flops down on the bed, propped up by his elbows, knees wide apart.]

So. Wanna see how much this baby can take? [HE PATS THE BED.]

[vitainmorte]

[






huh?????????? ]

... "Take?" Don't-- break it, those are expensive to replace...?

[themightybosstone]

....

Oh.

Uh.



Kay.

I'll be careful?

[vitainmorte]

[ BE CAREFUL WITH WHAT??? She just looks deeply confused and,




Actually. It's best to save face here, possibly, so. She'll extend her telepathy a bit, just for whatever surface thoughts are running through that thick skull. ]

[themightybosstone]

[ For all of the impenetrable plating for blunt force damage called his skull, she slips in without the slightest awareness or resistance.

In Foxians, there's always that undertone of a need to touch the sky, an upward leaning that takes all of them. In Borisins, there's that boiling, slathering thing, that wants to rend, hurt, tear, survive, CREATE MORE. In Sett, there's both, firmly kept under a boot.

The rest of his thoughts skitter like marbles.

She's really pretty!

She seems confused!

The place she stabbed me still hurts.

That's kinda sexy.

Uh, something seems wrong?

Nah, she's just playing.

Maybe I should ask?

Ugghhh, my tail hurts leaning back but it would be awkward to move NOW.

I can't believe she wants to have sex!! SHE FELT IT TOO IN THAT FIGHT!!

Maybe if I lean to the side I can get the tail AND still look cool-]

Val?

[vitainmorte]

[ ah,

She's so startled by that he might get the brief feedback of her mortified bafflement before she locks the connection down, but it's clear on her face anyway-- the blatant confusion and embarrassment and, strangely, the edge of nervous fear that makes her feathers flatten and slim down against her wings.

He thinks she wants to have sex with him? Felt what in that fight? Is that what he thought she invited him in for? Is that the kind of person he thinks she is? He thinks she's pretty???

She takes a step back. ]

I-- um.

[themightybosstone]

[ Well that sure wasn't HIS. He doesn't do EITHER of those emotions???

His eyes widen, realizing- Oh shit. Halovian. YEAH. THEY DO THAT.

And uh. That's a .. reaction? ]

Uuuuuuuuh? OKAY WAIT, um.



No?

[vitainmorte]

-- No! No, I'm not-- I don't--

[ she's just completed flustered, but instead of explaining herself she just.

Turns and swiftly walks back up to her cabin, where he can hear the hiss of the door sealing. Then silence. ]

1/2

[themightybosstone]

...

[themightybosstone]

SOME OF US CAN'T READ MINDS Y'KNOW!!!

[She can hear down the way.]

[vitainmorte]

[ there's no answer. In fact, he probably won't see her around for most of the rest of the night.




He might hear the door open sometime after midnight though, and if he comes up he might notice in the dim light of the cockpit someone's sitting in the drivers seat. And the unmistakable smell of brandy, probably. ]

[themightybosstone]

[He doesn't enter the cockpit, just leans against the wall outside of it, crossing his arms.]

So uh, sorry about that.

[vitainmorte]

[ her head turns, slightly, a clink of ice in a glass as she shifts her hand as well.

There's a long moment before she responds, voice quiet. ]

...

I'm sure you must be used to sleeping with women who invite you back with them. But don't insult me by assuming I have such-- such loose control of my faculties.

[themightybosstone]

Aint THAT common.

... is that insultin' me too or is it a like, general venom?

[vitainmorte]

[ ignoring that, ]

Your apology is appreciated. ... though I don't understand what you misinterpreted to mean I wanted to do anything like that, or why you thought my trying to kill you could mean I felt-- that way.

[themightybosstone]

[Oh. She picked that bit up. WELP. HE BLOWS A HUFF OF AIR.]

It aint the tryin' t'kill me part. It's just, you know.

There was a CLICK and, well, when you skidded back and cocked your gun and just blew that whole bug's head clean off in one shot it was- you know.

Pretty hot.

[vitainmorte]

[ She turns a little more to look at him over the back of the chair, brow furrowed. What are you TALKING about ]

... No, I don't know. I was just-- doing my duty.

[themightybosstone]

Seriously? You got NO idea??

[vitainmorte]

Why would I?

[themightybosstone]

Don't ask me. Yer the one who can see outside yer head.

[themightybosstone]

If I were you, I'd TOTALLY check myself out from other people's eyes.

[vitainmorte]

[ is that an invitation... her frown deepens. ]

You're overestimating Halovian telepathy.

[ ... but he offered(?) And she's pretty tipsy. So she does extend it again. ]