Sett, the Boss (
themightybosstone) wrote2024-07-15 04:39 pm
[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...]
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...]

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He'll find she wasn't lying about being low on food-- most of the available goods are meal replacements and prepared dry meals that only require the bare minimum cooking. There's some things, like the egg powder, but no fresh foods really... maybe a couple of fruit. ]
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there ARE... some basic spices. garlic powder, black pepper, Erythrian Pink Mountain Salt... you know, the works ]
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After a bit, it's a wonderful savory smell from the kitchen. Yeah, it's rehydrated eggs, some spices and chives, and a little tinned meats he'd had but, you know. It is either the best smell ever, or if appropriately hung over, the worst.
Either way, he's bringing her a plate.]
What's the plan today? Didn't hear anything on the feeds of it opening.
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But she eventually gets up and opens the door to talk to him, staring blearily at the plate with some confusion-- he cooked? before looking up at him. She's pretty ruffled.
He can see into her room, a bit, and it's a bit more lived-in than the rest of the ship; her bedspread has a cute floral pattern, and there's another picture or two bolted to the wall, the focus not visible from this angle. There's some other things as well, a clean and well-maintained desk and an ornate chest at the foot of her bed. ]
Today...? Mm. I don't think it'll open. So... you can do what you wish.
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Sweet! I'll keep looking for leads then. [And get arrested.]
Anyways, made breakfast. Most important meal of the day.
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She looks at the plate, with some confusion. is he telling her because he used her kitchen...??? ]
Oh-- um, enjoy?
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... My plate's still on the counter.
[CLEARER OFFER]
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-- You cooked for me? Why?
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...
Empty stomach, empty mind? [He just didn't think about. NOT doing it?? Look Mama raised him.]
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... takes the plate, faintly suspicious as she looks at it. it doesn't smell poisoned or anything right, ]
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He seems to realize, and then lets out a roar of laughter, dropping a hand to her shoulder in a friendly way. It really just emphasizes HOW MUCH THAT PALM COVERS, really.]
Relax.
If I'm gonna kill ya, it'll be head on. Promise ya.
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but she flushes, embarrassed, and takes a take back. ]
I-- well. Thank you, then. And we can meet back here tonight.
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[He stretches, cracking his neck and starts back to the kitchen, tail swaying behind him.]
Or anythin' else.
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just lets him go then so she can sit at her desk to eat. with much hesitation-- she doesn't exactly trust him, obviously, but... breakfast...
she carefully takes a bite, after a few minutes of debate. ]
... Oh, it's good.
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DING]
The Boss: hey this the rite person
The Boss: o ya that loosk rite
The Boss: dude i did not no the halo thingie came off
The Boss: i mean obvs it wasnt attached but somehow kina thot it wz
The Boss: u ever play catch w it like as kids
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Valencia: Sett? Why are you labeled "the Boss"?
Valencia: Of course I would never do something so crass. Our halos are special. If they couldn't be removed, how would we sleep?
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The Boss: i kno it took me 4ever 2
The Boss: and i dunno i guess it just floated over ur face or something
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Valencia: Well, now you know.
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