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

Arin paused in her treasure hunt to look up to Zeta. Buying anyone any kind of food or drink was unnecessary back in the OMNITECH Academy because everything was provided. But considering that Zeta seemed to be genuinely nice, that the Representative has developed a materialistic outlook in life since her school days, why not?

"Ah, sure!" Arin hiccuped, red over the praise on her dress. "Ahh..." She scratched the back of her head to stall. "What do you usually drink?"

From the second level of the bar, many patrons had watched the improvised entertainment with mixed curiosity and confusion. Among them was an Elysian Patrician. As things began to settle, he smiled wanly to himself. If ever there was a non-military group that could provide him safe passage among the worlds of known space, it was that bunch. And mayhaps, even, they'd be a consistent source of travel. All that was left a mystery at the moment, but the Archangel knew one thing for certain: he was ready to get off this God-forsaken planet.

There was no respect among these people unless you had might and flaunted it wastefully. There was no respect for personal space, or even simply for the individual, and many gave him very unnerving glances. It was like they blamed him for something despite the fact that he'd never killed anyone in his life. Tension was high among the Nepleslians, or at least whenever this Elysian was present.

Well good riddance to them. Uriel Hisshana was ready to get himself away from these mongrels. Yes, mongrels with no thought toward what might possibly exist that is greater than themselves. The Patrician sighed at that. He was trying, trying so very hard to excuse his old ways of thought, but to simply drop habits ingrained since birth was difficult. When he caught himself, though, he could at least correct himself.

Yes, some of these folks were intrigued by what he said, but how far would that honestly go in a society as... impulsive as this one? Not far, he imagined. And those that had been willing to broach the topic of the possible existence of a greater being or power often did so simply to try and shut him down. It was the most frustrating thing ever to attempt to engage a fellow in intellectual debate only to have said fellow slam Uriel for everything he was worth and walk away giggling.

Enough thinking, though, he needed to get moving if he wanted to... well, get moving. He headed for the stairwell with a brisk pace. Once arriving on the lower level, however, movement was a bit more difficult. More bodies present meant weaving and working his way through a crowd, which was difficult enough with being a seven-foot tall man with wings and foreign garb that was meant to hang loosely. If it wasn't his wings brushing uncomfortably against other bodies, it was his clothes getting snagged on various things and folks, despite his best attempts at graceful maneuvers. Again, he mentally damned himself for choosing such a location to relax. He knew, just knew by its external appearance that it wouldn't hold any sort of intellectuals nor serve as a place of deep discussion, and yet he had entered. And now here he was looking extremely aberrant; sticking out like a sore thumb, as the saying goes.

Jim grinned and nodded, extending his hand to shake Enzo's good one, "Yep! Jimothi Trakk, at your service. If you ever need some part of you patched up, you come to me. I'll fix you up faster than you can say fiddlesticks!"

"If you're with us," He continued, "then welcome aboard! An extra brain to think with is never a bad thing!"

Zeta looked at Arin and said. "Well I usually drink beer, but i would expect you to be a wine-drinker. Or am I mistaken?"
Zeta was rather curious abour Arin. That little slim girl wielding deadly flame gun and very adept at almost any technical stuff was very interesting and Zeta would like to meet the person behind all that.

"Okay let's walk to the bar then and get you whatever you would like. Tell me a little about yourself Arin." Zeta asked.

Luca had gone through his beer quickly, and agreed with Jim, "Yeah, maybe destroying the bar and causing the barkeep to get his guns out was a bit of a stretch," He ordered another beer.

"Don't think about it too hard. It happens once a week, at least," The barkeep replied, "Besides, I've had worse."
"Like what?"
"I can tell you that it involved more than just that tentacle goo lady monster that you got yourself hitched with."

"Either way," Luca said as he got up with his beer finished, he swiped his money card, "I'd best be -" He turned around quickly and bumped into Uriel, "Oof! Sorry 'bout that..."

He stood back noticed that he was staring at a chest with loose fitting clothes, he then looked up and noticed the chiselled facial features, wavy hair and wings. Especially the wings.
"...sir?" His steady drinking had made him a little bit adverse to surprise, "Whoa!" He took a step back and bumped into John, "Don't kill me."

John turned around, having spilt his drink a little turned around, "Watch it!" He immediately made a verbal backspace and turned back around, "...actually, continue!"

Sebastian, although somewhat surprised, stood his ground.
"Relax, I doubt he's here to kill us."

"By the way, Barkeep," Luca asked as he leaned over the bar, "Can I get a copy of the security footage?"
"Ultra-Def or RedBeam Format?"
"Either," The captain replied as he handed over his Communicator and downloaded the footage, playing through it quickly to ensure it was correct.

He noticed he had new messages, with subject names like: "HAVE MY BABIES!", "I'll kill you!", "Sponsorship deals?", "MKIII Jacket Pending" and "May I interest you in genital enhancement treatments?"

He closed the lid of the device and pocketed it, whilst looking at the Elysian warily.
"Well, uh, hello there." The captain said uncharacteristically sheepishly, "Obviously you aren't here to kill me, so..."

As Luca bumped into him, Uriel took half a step back to maintain his ground. And to be honest, he was slightly amused by the ship captain's behavior. A small smirk lit up his features for a few seconds. Then he answered, "No, I'm not here to kill you. I was actually wondering if you were in the business of transportation. I have desire to do some traveling. Just name your fee, sir," it was so difficult calling someone as short as Mr. Pavone 'sir,' "And I'm sure we can work out a fair transaction. I also have a few skills of merit, should currency be insufficient. What do you say?"

Luca rubbed his chin for a moment. He hadn't met an Elysian before, let alone a Patrician that was willing to share his time with him, "Hmm, if it's moving people from place to place, that's easy. We're moving around a lot anyway," He nodded, "Along the way, we sometimes get odd jobs put on us and we usually get money on a case-by-case basis. That aside, I think your terms are reasonable."

John looked over to Luca and leaned in curiously, Luca just looked over and gave him a nod of assurance.
"Sorry, I just don't see Elysians that often," John admitted, "Especially around here. I'll be your pilot, the name's John, and yours?" He straightened his sunglasses and extended a hand for a handshake.

MEANWHILE...
Upstairs, Panther's target was more than happy to live another day, so she spilt the beans with ease, "He is on the 49th floor. Not sure which room, but he and his crew have claimed that floor for the past few weeks."

She nodded to the assassin to confirm that she was indeed telling the truth, "Now let me go, I have a schedule to stick to!"

"I'm glad to hear," was the Patrician's response. He was keenly aware of the curious and slightly befuddled glances being thrown his way, but that was to be expected. He wasn't a typical Elysian by any means. For starters, he was looking forward to getting to know this group, as uncouth as they seemed to be.

His interest peaked when John introduced himself as the pilot. After a couple moment's hesitation, Uriel grasped John's hand with one of his own that was of significantly greater size; not enough disparagement to overwhelm the man, but enough to emphasize the difference between the two. "Understandable, John. I too am a pilot and my name is Uriel Hisshana*. What do you fly?" The Patrician took a moment to question himself: why was he so quick to assume they could get him where he wanted to go? He didn't even know what they were flying in. No matter, Uriel was one to trust his instincts, and his instincts told him that this was a sturdy crew with a sturdy vessel.

*Pronunciation (for clarity's sake): YUR-ee-uhl Hih-SHAH-nah

Panther did not say anything but did let the woman go. Before the cleaning lady turned around Panther would already be climbing the stairs to the next floor. Upon arrival, he kept himself low and moved slowly into the hallway, keeping an ear out for any sounds while picking out which door he may try to break into first.

Enzo wandered around the bar, searching for crew members he hadn't been aquainted with, yet. He ignored the new Elysian arrival for the moment, a slight distaste in Elysians affecting his decision. After a moment, he decided to approach the two women, a number of different chemicals affecting his decision.

"Well, well, well", he began, leaning in between the two women, "If it isn't the magical gun and the fire-lady. You're both looking very lovely this evening. Especially considering that we all just got out of a fire-fight." He frowned as he took note of the NAM uniform.

"But what happened to the pretty little dress?"

He motioned to the bar for another drink while he lit another cigarette with the butt of the one he was smoking before stamping it out in a nearby ashtray.

"So, what are you girls up to, tonite?"

Before Arin could answer, Enzo butted in. Zeta wasn't really happy about it, she wanted to talk with Arin. Although hearing that she was lovely was really nice, she would rather be only with Arin. Plus Enzo was rather drunk and he smelled horribly because of cigs.

Zeta really wasn't fond of cigarettes. They were smelly and it didn't even taste good, it was just another drug that made you think that you feel good. Nothing for her. Zeta left her train of thought and looked upon Enzo.

She said, "Look, we are looking for little privacy, don't you think you had a little much?"
She really didn't want to tell him to sod off, he helped a lot today. Well, jumping on Malice's head was a little reckless but Zeta had to admit that it was awesome.

"Hey, I've barely started!", Enzo said, downing the glass and quickly signaling for another, "I takes down two bottles of brandy before I've ever had enough. These miserable little glasses of gin are tiny! I will admit it though, I am's feelin' a little bit drunk."

The bartender nodded in agreement, yet handed him another drink anyway; continuing to rack up the tab and expenses for whichever benefactor had purchased the rooms. Enzo signaled for three more and looked back towards Zeta and Arin.

"Well, if yous broads don't want any company, you don't want any company. But if yous guys do decide you want some company, I'll be headed to my room: forty-nine number two. Don't be afraid to knock. I woke up late today."

Enzo took one of the drinks and made his way back to the elevator and thumbed the button for the forty-ninth floor. The doors closed gently and a drunk man passed out in the corner slid over on his side as the elevator lurched to a start. Enzo looked at the guy and nudged him with one foot. The man rolled over flat on his back and mumbled. A moment later, the doors slid open on the forty-ninth floor and Enzo shuffled out of the elevator and crossed the hall to his room, shutting the door behind him.

He stamped out his last cigarette in an ashtray on the desk and threw the empty pack onto the ground, just missing the wastebasket. He looked at the bad with hungry eyes, having slept in an escape pod for the last three days. Remembering his stay on the escape pod made Enzo angry. He grumbled noisily as he tore into one of the leftover rations from his bag, devouring its contents. One more thought about the pirates stealing his ship as he finished his meal, and Enzo was officially in a bad mood. He kicked his boots off and changed into his tank top and pajama pants, deciding to look for trouble in the morning. He stuck his gun in the drawer of the bedside table, next to a copy of The Dreamer Vigil someone had left in the room. Then he brandished his knife and stabbed it into the side of the bed, out of sight but not out of reach. He threw his hat onto the lamp, but left it on as he lay on the bed, trying to get some sleep.

Arin let out another nervous laugh, honestly the Representative never drunk before but this 'vacation' could be a good point to start, all the cool members of the group were doing it anyway. "Wine eh?" It wasn't a healthy habit for her to allow someone else to unintentionally decide what she likes. She nodded to the barkeep to get her a glass.

This was when Enzo showed up smelling like cigs and booze. Instantly her guard went right back up, spurred by a male-phobia that was slowly growing since the Luca Pavone incident. She observed the vagabond (who obviously had too much to drink) silently until he left. In hindsight, she felt that it was fortunate that the intoxicated Enzo voluntarily excused himself before he could do something he wont remember and might regret later.

Arin then turned back to Zeta. The delay between the question and answer allowed her to come up with something (hopefully) wise sounding. She produced a damaged pistol grip, it was all that was left of Enzo's gun. "I don't want to relate in detail about my past, it is both sad and boring. So pretend this thing is my life up to this point." She put the object on the bar. "It is broken at the base and incomplete, but is recognizably something that makes up a handgun."

"What I want to do now..." She then produced random gun parts from her many pockets, some of it was from the Cain-mission, the others from after that. "Is to go places and experience things." Using a multi-tool the Representative then started rudimentarily combining the parts together until it remotely resembled a weapon. "Hopefully in the process I will learn more about the universe." She then pointed the 'gun' at a bottle on the shelf. "And my purpose in it."

A 'click' later the makeshift gun fell to pieces. Thankfully none of the pieces rolled into any tight places that Arin couldn't reach. "In short, I'm not going to make any sweeping assumptions about myself." She continued, flustered. "But I think you get the picture, I'm modest." The last words barely escaped her mouth, she had a feeling that she just made a complete fool of herself.

The bartender handed her a glass of nondescript wine, which she then took to sipping it obediently. "That Enzo was useful after all." She squeaked, desperate to change the subject. "Perhaps I should return the pistol grip, and make sure he makes it to his room?"

Enzo lost a few points in Zeta eyes. Being drunk is one thing, calling her and more importantly Arin a broad is another. She tightened her fist and was tempted to hit him really hard, but it wouldn't help anything. But it made her angry, ahe really wanted to hit him, but Arin would probably looked down upon it, so Zeta stopped minding Enzo and looked back at Arin. Much better view anyway and much better smelling one too.

She then listened to what Arin had to say. It was very interesting and phylosophical. So Arin is really interesting person. Zeta was very happy for meeting someone lik her. This only made joining Luca worthy.
When Arin finally got her wine Zeta picked up her beer and taped Arins glass with her own gently.
"Cheers!" Zeta said and sipped a little. She can't get drunk after all.

"Well it looks like both of us are looking for what we really are. I hope we can be looking together," said Zeta with smile on her face.
"Oh and I am sure Enzo will be okay. He is a big boy. But if you want to go and make sure. We surely can do that," Zeta added.

Jim stared at the huge winged man whose features seemed to be carved out of stone. He'd never seen an Elysian before, and was frankly shocked to see one in the middle of this rabble. Still being next to Luca and John, Jim extended his hand as well, "Jimothi Trakk, ship's doctor. Glad to have you aboard."

This little break in Nep Prime is really turning out to be a lot more eventful than I could have ever imagined. Jeez...

Uriel grasped the proffered hand with much less hesitation the second time. "Mm. Well met, Mr. Trakk. Uriel Hisshana." And now, he was coming to find himself at a loss for words, his previous question still hanging in the air. So he awaited a stimulus, and stood a silent, patient statue.

"Alright then, Uriel," Luca smiled as he gave him a wave, "It's getting a bit late, and I need to start heading to bed, my crewmate Enzo had the right idea. There are more of us scattered around the building, but we're all on Floor 49. Feel free to drop me a line tomorrow morning, okay?"

Luca gave the pilot a lift up from the stool and a pat on the back, then they proceeded to walk out of the bar, back into the foyer, and then to the elevators.

Sebastian, however, stayed back and sized up the Elysian once the rest of the crew had left. He leaned back in his chair before sighing lightly.
"While I have had the pleasure of working with an Elysian before, during my past career," He had a frown on his face and his right hand on his revolver, "He went a little out of control, tried to experiment on my crew. Left them without limbs, and sometimes without lives. However, he did grant me this little number before losing his mind completely."

He raised his right arm and pulled back the sleeve that covered it, revealing the metal underneath. He'd done away with the layer of synthetic skin since his encounter with Cain, instead hiding it with whatever he was wearing.

Every synthetic strand of muscle was of masterful craftsmanship and looked seamless as it wove into his torso, replacing what was once there. It required negligible amounts of maintenance. It was about twelve times as strong as an average man's arm, steady as a machine, and was waterproof to boot.

"Don't take it the wrong way, your kind is certainly capable of great things," He smiled wryly as he manipulated his fingers finely, then drawing , "But I hope you have the sense to stay away from the ghastlier aspects..."

"Don't sleep on it too much, Uriel, but sleep well tonight," Sebastian said as he got up and left, "See you tomorrow."

MEANWHILE, UPSTAIRS...
"Damn John, how much DID you drink?" Luca said as he hefted his friend's weight around.

"Drank me - a boot or two," He hiccuped, "I'm rightly out to it!"
Luca groaned, partly because he was usually the last person to get drunk due to his Yamataian body and resilience to chemicals, "Look, now where was your room, again?"

"For-fourscore and seven- Forsoo- Forty nine..."
"Go on..." Luca rolled his eyes.
"Forty nine five hundred."

Luca just shook his head in disbelief, then kept on moving, but noticed that someone else was in the hall, putting his ears to the doors.
"Who is that?" He wondered aloud as he put John against the wall and got a better look, "Oi!"

He put his hand on his pistol warily, and was ready to draw if things went south. However, he put his other hand on his communicator, as he had another idea.

Panther waited on the stairs after deciding to wait and see if someone came up. He heard loud footsteps of a drunk, so beggar looking assassin crouched down and investigated. As Vincienzo entered his room, Panther crept to the door where he stayed for a few minutes. That fleshling could be Luca, however I doubt he be alone... I should check anyway, the assassin contemplated as he took out his zig zagging curved knife, typically not used for picking locks, and began to pick at the lock that most likely locked on its own upon closing.

It took time, until finally he succeeded when suddenly the elevator opened. Right as he heard someone he quickly went into Vincienzo's room and closed the door behind him. He stayed there at the freshly picked door listening while keeping his hand on a weapon with his right hand.

Enzo drifted awake slowly, too drunk to realize why he had awoken. A slight breeze had cut across the room from the relatively quick, yet quiet opening door. Enzo's insticts kicked him awake, in vain. His judgement was too poor to understand. He sat up slowly and took his knife out of its hiding place. He grunted noisily as he picked himself up off of the bed and wandered into the bathroom, cleaning out his finger nails with the knife. He walked right past Panther as he entered the bathroom, not even noticing the hunter in his tired stupor.

Enzo turned the sink faucet to cold, and washed the dried-up and caked on blood from his face. He snarled at the sharp pains from his previous encounter. He then prepared to turn around and go back to the bed, when something in the mirror caught his eye. It wasn't hostility, but greed that influenced the actions of the wayward smuggler. He had seen a garment of some kind and the soft sheen of metal in the soft streetlights streaming in through the windows. "A coat rack?", he thought, "I need a new coat. How convenient is that?"

He was nearly upon Panther when he finally realized his target was, in fact, a man with a knife in his hand. Enzo silently held up his own knife and pulled his lips back into an angry grimace. Enzo was still in a bad mood.

"You're not a new coat", he mumbled. Then, Enzo charged the assailant, screaming, "You're not a coat AT ALL!"

As soon as the shouts from Enzo's room filtered into the hallway, Vincent was barreling towards the door, drawing his hand cannon along the way. In one swift movement, Vincent used his ID-Sol strength to knock the door flat off his hinges and aim his gun through the threshold.

"Whoever's in here," The ex-Red shouted, "drop your weapons and come along peacefully and I might not shoot you."