Sett, the Boss (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
themightybosstone) wrote2024-07-15 04:39 pm
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...]
no subject
no subject
[ obviously? ]
What does that have to do with anything?
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You're sure? Vessels like you are normally synthetic.
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-- and then, confused, watches him go by. She lets him get quite a distance between she puts her gun away and follows, brow furrowed. ]
Vessels? I have two parents like any person. I'm human.
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No human could be as good as a hunter as you, Valencia. Tell me, are you Oak by blood?
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... Of course. You seem to know a lot about me.
[ Worrying, when her branch of the Family has traditionally kept itself pretty secluded. ]
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Of course. I know what caliber you favor. Where you parked. Where you are checked in. I can see the way you hang your scarves. You don't close your curtains all the way, paranoid in the way all good little hunters are.
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You're just as much of a creep as they say, then. I don't suppose you think you aren't as obvious in your movements as well, then, even with that hacker to cover your steps.
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[Out pops from the vending machine!! A bottle of SoulGlad. He wrenches it open and sniffs it.]
What does this taste like?
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It's sweet. It's soda. I don't care for the SoulGlad exported to other planets.
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Carbonated. [He mutters, before holding it out to her.] Drink this for me.
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I would sooner end my own life.
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[He nods, tips the bottle back again into his mouth.
And then he lunges for her with terrifying speed, both hands reaching out to try and catch her by the jaw.]
no subject