[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]

It can't see-- through other peoples' eyes, or...

[ But it can visualize those thoughts, as they transfer, as strong as the imagery is and... frankly, she doesn't know what to do with it, a reality in which someone is looking at her that way. It's not like she doesn't know that Halovians are, on average, fairly attractive to other races-- they do tend to have a natural charisma and draw and many of them take full advantage in their careers and love lives-- but to have it so blatant is... strange? She's not a charismatic leader or idol, or even particularly good conversation. And yet... even if the draw is purely physical, it's strange, especially tangled into the battle-fever.

She would have never considered the artful splatters of blood or grime, or how they made her look, or the way her muscles tensed under flesh. Her single-minded focus didn't allow that kind of vanity in battle, and outside of it it was nothing more than an annoyance to have to clean off her halo and feathers. And now--

She flushes dark, her neckwings awkwardly folding partially over her face as if to hide her from his gaze, as she huddles back into the seat and throws back the rest of her brandy. And pours another glass. The-- regret, what was that about? Just from giving up a potential conquest, perhaps? Yes, surely. ]

[themightybosstone]

[ If she hasn't pulled out of his thoughts, the image of her tucked in under her wings tugs a bubble of humor that doesn't show on the borisin's face. The tail twitches, and he gives a broad, aimless gesture with one clawed hand. ]

Got two glasses?

[vitainmorte]

[ augh. her wings shift to more thoroughly cover her face.

She gestures vaguely towards the kitchen where he'll be able to find another glass in what seems to be a mini mini bar. ]

[themightybosstone]

[ He grabs an extra from the ultramini bar, it almost invisible in his grip... She might feel the little pop and fizz of curiosity before the clink of glasses, looking at what else is stocked in the bar.

But he returns, this time entering the cockpit, even if he has to fold himself a little to do it, and holds out a glass. ]

I got a great bottle from Xeron II a couple of jumps back. If we finish this, I'll replace it.

[vitainmorte]

[ He's out of range by then at least so she just closes off the connection entirely, mostly to save herself. She DOES have a good collection of small bottles of very expensive booze, many of them gifts with little notes of thanks or well-wishes still tied to the necks. There's some wine of different sorts, a few bottles of mead, but she definitely seems to have a preference for whiskey, bourbon, and brandy.

When he gets back to the cockpit she's still slumped in her seat and deeply flustered, though her wings are no longer completely covering her face. She stares at the glass a moment before picking up the bottle from where she'd sat it next to her chair to pour him a glass. ]

... Is that so? I'll look forward to it, then.

[themightybosstone]

[ It's odd. To find someone with appreciation in their wake. He puts that thought away as he curls his tail and settles in one of the other seats. ]

I do the occasional bounty to get enough to keep going. Sometimes it's worth enough for the finer things in life.

[vitainmorte]

If you can afford it, it's worth a treat.

[ there's a pause, as she just stares out the window at the empty harbor below. ]

I don't expect you to replace my alcohol. It's fine.

[themightybosstone]

Don't make the ground rules complicated with exceptions an' shit.

Cheers.

[vitainmorte]

Alcohol isn't food.

[ but she lifts the glass a bit and sips at it, mostly just wasting time by swirling her ice around after. ]

...

Were you serious? Before.

1/2

[themightybosstone]

[ He takes a larger sip, and lets it linger on his tongue a little, savoring before he swallows. ]

Oh that's good?

[themightybosstone]

... Uh which part? If it's about what I'm doin' out around here? Hell yeah.

If it's about yer amazin? ALSO hell yeah.

... I aint great at makin' shit up, actually.

[vitainmorte]

Amaz--

[ flusters again, feathers ruffling, but only glances at him briefly. ]

-- I don't understand. I don't even know your name.

[themightybosstone]

Oh! Well that's easy.

I'm Sett.

[vitainmorte]

[ blinks at him, then settles again. ]

.... Sett, then. Nice to meet you.

[themightybosstone]

That's settled then.

Anyways, look forward t'workin' with you all the same. We're gonna make a hell of a team.

[vitainmorte]

Y-yes, I... suppose we will.

[ she's quiet for a moment longer, contemplating her drink. ]

... does it hurt? The wound.

[themightybosstone]

[ He blinks. If she's listening, she'll hear him filling in the cheap punchline. Does it hurt? When you fell from heaven-

Which will explain the otherwise dumb grin. ]

Oh, yah! Like a bitch. But it's gonna make a kickass scar for the collection.

[vitainmorte]

[ unfortunately she is not but good lord. She does look baffled by his grin though, and slowly goes to push herself up out of her chair. ]

Ah, we should-- does it need a bandage? I have a kit...

[themightybosstone]

I mean, next time I got a clear view of the moons out there it'll heal up fine.

[There's no telling when that is.]

But ... Probably could use some fresh pads, yeah.

[vitainmorte]

[ Well-- ignoring that first bit, because it kind of makes her shudder. But she sort-of-unsteadily makes her way to the back of the cockpit to fetch the first aid kit, sssurely that will help...? And brings it back to him. ]

[themightybosstone]

[Buddy.

A better person might have decided to help. Or ushered her to bed instead.

Sett just watches her wobble, ears perked to see if she pinballs at all.

The tail wags a bit when she returns.]

You uh, okay there?

[vitainmorte]

Yes. I've had quite a bit of alcohol.

[ she sets the kit down to dig through it for some cleaning supplies and a clean bandage pad. ]

[themightybosstone]

No kidding, man.

[He knocks back his own and starts pulling off his jacket and shirt.] I gotta catch up.

[The wound is wrapped, the hasty and efficient style of someone who gets injured often but doesn't have to think about it long. It's soaking through in parts, a muddy black of his blood. Other scars criss cross his body. Laser, teeth, claws, steel and gunshot, even a borisin bridle lash crosses his entire body.]

[vitainmorte]

Please don't try to catch up, I have deceptively high tolerance...

[ she watches him though, brow furrowing at the scars-- she can guess some of those for sure, but...

In any case, once he's done she reaches for the wrapping to undo it and begin to clean, clinically. ]

[themightybosstone]

OW- HEY! I CAN-! I can do it m'self!!