RP: ISC Phoenix [Interlude 4] - A Hard Day's Night

"They're Menthol Nepleslian Greens, and they're the best damn cigarettes in the Galaxy. Ultra-strong, ultra-long, and mades fosr peoples who will die violently before theys ever gets lung cancer." Enzo smiled as he spoke the words with tiny puffs of smoke coming from his mouth with each syllable. After exhaling, he continued, "The hotel puts a complementarys pack in each room. And, after scouring the maid's cart this mornings when I bought my watches, I now have enoughs to smoke well into next month."

Zeta knew why not to smoke. Not that is is unhealthy, she didn't care about that, but it smells bad. But from time to time she enjoyed a *** or two to calm her nerves.

"Menthol? Yuck! When I smoke a cig I would be much more happy with extra tobacco then menthol or any other weird flavour," She said with voice that sounded like she didn't mean that sentence, "Hahaha," she started laughing then. She didn't know why. She just felt like doing so.

Luca looked at his Communicator, it was sometime around mid to late afternoon now, and he figured that he'd best be going.

"Well, I think we're nearly done here," Luca said as he looked for a nearby eatery. He was feeling a little bit peckish, and he had the nagging feeling that he was forgetting something.

He then realised something, but not what he was supposed to be remembering, "Wait, Hitori, what are you doing here, anyway?"
"Buying a new knife. Why?" She asked softly as she played idly with her new acquisition.
"How'd you get here so quick? We all had a head start on you."
"I took the stairs, silly," She patted Luca's cheek playfully.
Luca just looked towards nobody in particular and shrugged. He couldn't argue with an explanation like that.

As for Panther, Luca had an idea of where to deliver something.
"I think you can get it delivered it to my ship. Allison should be there to receive it," He leaned beside Panther's shoulder, "John, whereabouts is the ship docked?"
"It's over at..." He gave the address without fuss.

Meanwhile, Sebastian was thinking of a response to Uriel's question.
"There's no doubting that there are countless dialects, slang and loanwords in the Trader's tongue," He stroked his beard as he checked the time, "You may have heard our sniper, Melissa, she came from Delsauria. Lots of people from Delsauria speak similarly."

He then cleared this throat as Melissa walked out of the shop, "G'day mate, I see ya got yerself a fat load o' bullets! Y'plan to use 'em any day soon, mate?" He mimicked her accent near seamlessly.
"By cripes mate, do I ever!" Melissa agreed heartily as she hauled her box of bullets away.

"However," He resumed his usual way of speaking, "I think Mr. Bortelli and his family are a shining example of said dialects, slang and loanwords rolled into an incomprehensible package."

Hearing the conversation about his family, Enzo decided to come in for the closing statemts.

"Actually," he said, "Grandpa Gino Bortelli, the patriarch of the whole deal, had quite a crazy about ancient languages. He trieds to teach 'em to everybody in the family. My mom knew bits and pieces of a few. Of course, stuff likes that was mostly lost during all the wars we've had had on beautiful Green Nepleslia. Anyhow, Granpa Gino thinks that we could figure out where we was from if we just figured out the old languages. 'Badabing' and 'faggetaboudit' were two words of great signifigance to ancient Nepleslian noblemen; as far as old Gino figured it. He even found this really old trinket and blew his entire life's savings on it. It's a necklace, and it's the reason why we Bortelli's are all swindlers. It's been passed down to the youngest Bortelli for the last two generations, to remind us not to waste our money on worthless pursuits."

Enzo reached behind him and removed the necklace around his neck, lifting it into the light. It was still clean even through all the trouble of the last week it had survived. It spun slowly on its chain as the sun glimmered of of it. The pendant wasn't large, appearing to be the size of a bottle cap. It was triangular in shape, with the point facing down. On one side, a dove held an olive branch in its mouth, with the words "Fides fortis defendit" engraved delicately underneath. The other side showed two crossed shotguns, and the words, "Ex gladio ultio" were engraved above them in a similar script. After he felt the pendant had been viewed enough, he reattached it to his neck and shrugged.

"Don't ask about the words on it, there's nobody alive who knows what they mean. What it means to a Bortelli, though, is that Gramps is a dumb shit."

Enzos family is really interesting. He is a rather funny guy, when he isn't being a bastard, or drunk like hell. Zeta smiled a lot during his monologue and after he stopped, she said to him.

"Nepleslian noblemen? Never heard that term before, but I think there is a lesson well earned in all this... Firstly your gramps was crazy but secondly even though he spent a fortune on that trinket, he still made it through and created a family heirloom along the way. I could admire that."

"Eh?" Enzo seemed confused at first, upon hearing this almost blasphemous statement that his Grandpa was somehow a decent man, despite having never commited a crime or ripping someone off in his life. After putting some thought to it, he decided to agree. "I figure that's good enough. Gramps never did have it all there, but he gots this family through some hard times. I mean, it was still his fault they was hard times, don't get me wrong. But if you ask me, the Greens did the same thing, and I'm okay withs them, so I don't see why not. Hell, I'm okay withs the Reds now that they'se givens me a hat." He chuckled while he reached into his bag and removed the beret, pulling it down onto his head.

Zeta chuckled seeing him put the thing on the head, "I don't care about that stuff. Before joining Luca's band of merry men and women, I used to drive a fuckin' taxi,"

"Taxi drivers doesn't care about anything. Every city will always needs them, so they feel above it. Hahaha, they were fun times. But it got boring. This is way better." She said. Then she tried to get her hair out of her face. "Stupid hair! Where is a box of hair gel when you need one?!"

Robert, who had just continued browsing came across a jar of said hairgel as Zeta started to yell at her hair. "Zeta! Catch!" he tossed her the jar of slightly dusty hairgel.

Zeta look at Robert and caught the jar flying at her. It almost fell out of her hand but she managed to get a hold of it. She looked at the old jar.
Hmm this looks pretty ancient, but it should work. It is not like gel can get bad. She was more concerned about a weapons shop having hair gel on the shelf.

She looked at Enzo. "Oh come they have even a jar of gel? I hope it is not some experimental gelatinous explosive, cause I like my head a lot. We were inseparable." She said as she took out ten DAs and put them on the counter. That should cover it.

Those inside heard a loud crack as Jim pried the front off the busted hover bike in the backyard. He had picked up a large, rusty crowbar just resting up against the wall and started prying it apart. In order to get at what looked like a high caliber machine gun resting below what would have been the hood if it were still attached. Unfortunately, it seemed as though the gun was mounted with a set of screws, and he had no screwdriver handy. Wiping his brow, he set down the crowbar and walked back into the shop. "Oy, little one with the tools, you have a set of screwdrivers on you, right? You wanna help me get that gun off that hulk outside?"

Enzo glanced nervously at Zeta's hairgel. He explained with little reservation, "It's, eh, it's not unusual for thing likes that to be in the shop. It's because of how theys gets all their merch. It's eh, a little like salvage. But... you know, they people they buys it from aren't salvagers. The uh, guys that sells 'em stuff kinda goes to functional ships and salvages stuffs from 'em. It's what I like to call, Mandatory Salvage. I'm sure some of the stuff is legitimate salvage, but Bortelli Brothers doesn't ask any questions. Yous guys might notice that most of the weapons are either put together from parts by Frank, or they gots the serial numbers filed out in such a way to makes it look like battle damage." He finished his cigarette with a sideways look on his face, trying to explain the criminal underworld to a team of justice-heroes. "I believe that 'barely legal' is the phrase I'm lookin' for here." he said flatly.

"Legal or not, the money still goes towards kicking those pirate's asses," Luca said as he scouted out a small pub which looked relatively safe and served steaks for a discount this afternoon.

By safe, he meant that just about everyone in there had no less then a semi-auto pistol or machine pistol by their side, and if one person drew their gun, everyone did, "Mostly," He corrected his previous statement, "How about some pub lunch?"

"I suppose we're done here, but we'd better keep our wits about us," Sebastian said before turning around and giving a nod of acknowledgement to Lucco and Frank Bortelli, "Have a good day, sirs," He addressed them directly, "Good luck with business."

Luca then walked right into the bar, and sat down at the nearest available, empty table, rubbing his hands together. On the way he'd picked up a menu, but failed to realise that some of the patrons were staring at him intensely.
Sebastian and Anna took note of this as they walked in, and sat down next to their son. Hitori and John flanked the captain's parents, and there was still room for everyone else to sit down.

The bar itself was the sort that went underground, starting with a staircase from the entrance, to an open room with a bar built into the left wall, a large television at the very back, and tables built into the walls on the right. In the middle there were also tables and chairs, but the sort you could move around with ease.

Luca had decided to sit on one of the tables in the right, which was built into the walls and floor. The seats here were large, comfy, padded and built similarly to the tables.

"Allo lads and lasses, what can I get fer ya?" A buxom barmaid, redhaired approached with a notepad in hand, eager to take an order.
"I'd like a rib-eye steak, medium rare, with chips, mushroom sauce and veggies," Luca said as he handed the menu to her.
"Same as him," Sebastian chipped in, nodding.
"Sure, Oi'll get ya some steak knives," She noted down, she then leaned over and addressed the rest of the crew (and providing a nice view of her rack), "Would any else of ya want some feed? Steak's 'er on special!"

Other choices on the menu ranged from salads, fried foods, grilled and deep fried, and fish.

Seiren noticed the "Little one" comment, but ignored it considering the fact that he's gotten used to it. Just so long as nobody mistakes him for a girl again. Anyways, he ran over to Jim with his cloth satchel that he totally had the entire time holding all of his new belongings, nodding happily. "Yeah, I'll do it," The inventor replied while pulling out the Utili-tool out from his bag, "Just give me a sec."

He headed outside and disappeared from view for about two minutes before a loud clanging noise and a few curses were heard. Another minute, and Seiren came in limping while carrying the machine gun.

"It's quite a bit heavier than it looks." He puffed as he hoisted the thing onto his shoulder, only to have it pull him backwards and onto the ground.

"Yeah see, they buy off from pirates and such. I don't care, I am no cop. Somebody would buy it anyway, so what?" said Zeta to Enzo as she put her gel into the pocket of her jacket.

She then followed Luca. Pub looked as nice as a pub full of armed folks could. Zeta checked around for any possible dangers from both armed and unarmed folks. She also tried to remember how the room was set, where are tables and people. She then sat with others in the way so she could see most of the room.

When barmaid came and started taking orders Zeta asked her if they happened to have goulash, since she was in mood for it. Or an other spicy food.

After taking a seat at the far end of the table seperate from the rest of the crew, Enzo contemplated hitting on the barmaid, but decided against it because of his lack of hygene at the moment. He eventually decided to order a root beer and rum float. He idly poked the scoop of vanilla ice cream as it tottered around in his mug and sighed. His mood was beggining to shift again; so he remained quiet and stayed out of the conversation-- so as not to fly off the handle at anyone. He had his other hand on his gun tracing the name engraved into the slide. Feeling that his bad mood had passed for the moment, he took a look around the table. He laid eyes on the various people he had met over the two days.

There was a certain fondness he had for the dynamic of the crew, but he still felt on guard towards all of them. It seemed inprudent to try anything funny with this bunch. "Sebastion probably already knows it's crosseds my mind. Luca may has some idea," he thought to himself, "And I has no doubt Zeta suspects me. Look at her eyes darting around the room, she suspects every possible threat. There's nothing to gain from stabbing these people in the back, but its gonna be impossible to go ons living likes this."

His train of thought left him desiring trust, companionship, and most of all; tits. A man's mind is simple, easily consolable by this simple thing. Unfortunately for Enzo, he smelled like sweat and escape pod rations deodorant, which seemed to just be solidified toothpaste. This is not a formula for an attractive man. He stood up suddenly in the midst of conversation.

"I'm going back across the street to takes a shower at my Uncle's joint whilst everyone eats." He interrupted, "Cap'n Pavone, here's the number to the communicator I nabbed offa that sniper. Call it if yous needs me."

Enzo scrawled the number onto a napkin with crayons that were meant for children to play with while they waited for their food and slid it across the table under his finger. He tossed a ten DA bill onto the table for his drink and walked briskly out the door.

Vincent plopped down on a reinforced barstool, noting the groan as the load-bearing points took up his weight. The mercenary looked over at the barmaid and nodded.

"London broil," The beast of a man grunted, "trim the fat, cooked medium rare, and don't skip on the barbecue sauce. Side of fries and a pint of the strongest alcohol you have." Once Vincent had placed his soldier, the ex-soldier leaned forward onto the bar counter and took a nap, catching up on the sleep he had missed the previous night.

Luca took the note from Enzo and transferred the number to his Communicator, "Thanks, I'll give you a ring if we move," He gave him a wave as he left. He looked over to Seiren, who was looking half comical with the machine gun, "Are you sure you can carry that? I mean," He joked as he pointed to the HHG strapped to his left, "This alone has a reasonable kick to it, and I have to use both hands, unlike my dad."

"Son, believe me, getting this arm wasn't nice," He said as he flexed the fingers and sighed, "It may be a boon in the end, but how I got it wasn't pretty." Luca tilted his head a little and frowned somewhat.
"Maybe, but hey, you've still got a steadier aim then anyone here, me included," Luca comforted him, "And you're still my Dad."

As he was doing this, the barmaid penned down Vincent's, Luca's, Enzo's and Sebastian's orders and spoke to Zeta, "Ma'am, we don't 'ave us no Goulash, will a Chilli con Carne do ya?"

Meanwhile, a man who was a few seats away continued to stare at Luca. He got up out of his chair and started moving towards the crew's table slowly. Luca was able to notice him because the sound of his bootsteps could be heard over the din of the pub's patrons.

"Ah, crap," Luca grumbled, frowning somewhat.

He was a Yamataian draped in a pitch black longcoat, short wheat-blonde hair and a veneer of aloofness and charm which belied a lack of conscience and an unbridled sociopathy. He was not one to be messed with. He was Michael Kreisen, "I told you I'd be-"

"Wait wait wait - Hold on a moment," Luca rudely interrupted his unflinching walk and villainous speech mid step whilst pointing, "Didn't I kill you already?"

"She told you I'd be back, right?" He flapped his arms, whilst looking at Hitori, who was now cowering under the table.
Luca sighed and rolled his eyes, "Look, now isn't a good time," He turned around and motioned to his crew, "I'm trying to have a holiday with my family, my friends and my crew. I've been shot at, stabbed and violated within the course of 24 hours. I just want to have a break now."

"Apupup - Well Mr. Movie-buff," Michael asked Luca whilst waggling his finger, "Do the villains in the movies ever come in at an opportune time?"

"But the hero's backup usually arrives at the best possible moment," Vincent quipped. In the few seconds Michael and Luca had been speaking, the hulking mercenary had drawn one of his massive handguns, moved over beside Michael and now held the cool, wide-bore barrel of the hand cannon at hip level, aiming at Michael's meat-sack of a torso.

"Although," Vincent grunted, "movie logic also states that the villain has to monologue about his ressurection and quest for vengeance before he enters combat with the hero." Looking around at the rest of the group, the merc shrugged.

"I did some research overnight," he grunted, before turning back to Michael.

Robert wandered into the bar after lingering in the shop for a bit longer. He noticed the villian while walking up to join the crew. Fortunately, he had approached at Michael's back so he just drew up a chair from a nearby table, drew his knife from its sheath and watched to see what would happen. He knew that he could at least get a good strike from where he was sitting. Nice and clear throwing range.

Panther did some shopping at Mole's Quick Stop, a nice little pawn shop for backyard equipment without much check out asked. While the room was decorated with cheap, useless paperweight items, behind a glass wall was where the real stuff was. The shop dealt with small or second hand items that Panther on his own would probably have a hard time obtaining.

The man at the counter was a loosely dressed 26 year old with a nice "death to Neko's" tattoo on his shoulder and a hairstyle way out of style. Walking up to the man, the mostly disguised Kohanian asked, "I have interest in some things, here is my money and list," he said sliding his card and a piece of paper of what he wanted up to the small opening of the glass wall.

"Oh do ya?" the man behind the bullet proof glass asked, first taking the list, "HE grenades, hook and rope? Shit man you not plannin' to rob my house now bro?" After a good stare by his patron he continued, "Well we do got the gas stuff, not sure bout' the explosives though. The rest of the stuff here won't be a problem bro as long as you... oh deliver it here?" the guy looked at the end of the note with an address, "Ok bro it will cost..." then he became distracted by his patron's appearance, and felt like he needed a closer look. Though as he did moved closer, the DA card began sliding away.

With a chuckle, the man understood, "Ok It's 1054DA and they'll send them to this address," he said taking the card and leaning back to tap on the computer. After the transaction was finished, he handed the card back to it's owner.

Panther just nodded then walked away with his card. "Come back now bro?" yelled out the shopkeep at the back of his patron as he leaned back to read his "book."


Later he went to a nearby charity organization to steal some clothing. He made it more fun by challenging himself to go about unseen, which was not too hard to do with volunteer workers. After grabbing some cloths and finding a sack for it, he paid a delivery service to send it to the ship and headed to the bar...

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When he almost walked into a battle, or so it was growing into one. With the door half opened he attempted to slowly walk in and bank away from the conflict like he had no interest in it all. Until he reached a wall and leaned back on it to watch the unfolding events, This should be fun to watch, he thought as he purred in delight in watching the unfolding event.