RP: ISC Phoenix [Interlude 5] - The Making Of

Vincent looked over just in time to see Uriel draw up beside him. The mercenary shrugged as the Patrician asked his question, then sighed.

"You won't like it," he said simply, "but we're on Nepleslia Prime, and doing an interview for a TV outlet that's no doubt going to put our faces all over the news, which is just what we don't need."

Zeta shrugged and looke at Vince. "Not all of us have to show up. I think That some of use should stay in shadows. Especially those who dislike publucity. Let's say you, Naoko and Angel. You could stay at watch. I bed some idiots will try to act, since I bet we will go live." Zeta said to Vincent. Her voice was now serioues and she was worried about their future. She did not like idea of showing up in fron of cameras, but she won't let captain alone. Not for one moment.

Robert left to get dressed in something that blended in better. He came out with a T-shirt that had an arrow saying "I'm not with the Neko" and an arrow underneath pointing to the right. He stood next to Vince while pulling on a leather jacket that he left unzipped. He also put a pair of reflective sunglasses on. He flipped his knife from a sleeve and started running it across his fingers. "Probably a good idea, Zeta. I'll stand to the side looking for trouble too."

Daxle decided to not do the interview, and opted to stay away from any reporters. He doubted anyone would know who he is anyway, he hadn't been onboard long.

Vincent stopped mid-stride, suddenly distracted by what a stupid thought he'd had (or hadn't had, rather). Of course someone would have to stay back and guard the ship, it would be a monumentally stupid decision to leave it unattended - not that he didn't trust the remaining crewmen to keep it safe. Echelon had full access to the ship's security systems, plus there was Allison, Mich, possibly Hitori and innumerable others remaining on deck. It was just that Vincent didn't trust the ship to minister to its own needs.

The mercenary raised the heel of one palm to his forehead, turned on his heel and made a bee-line back towards the ship. "I'm staying here," he grunted. "If someone absolutely, completely, one-hundred percent needs me right now, no exceptions, you can raise me via the ship's comms." Then he went back inside the Courier.

"You're right, I don't like the sound of that at all." As Vincent strode away, Uriel found himself unsurprised. Along with Zeta and Robert who were walking with him, the Elysian wasn't fond of shining a spotlight on himself if only to avoid word reaching home. However, were that not an issue Uriel would still be greatly inclined to turn down such an endeavor. Playing bodyguard, however, wouldn't be a big deal.

"This simplifies things, I suppose. I do imagine an interview would be held on a stage, which would imply an off-stage area. If we split two and two, we could easily keep an eye on both the crowd and behind the scenes. I think Zeta and myself ought to take one half, and Robert and Naoko the other." These things he mentioned to Robert and Zeta, seeing as they were the two within earshot and who shared his opinion on the matter. Naoko would have to be broached shortly, assuming these two agreed.

Robert glanced at his shirt with a bemused grin. "Well, I got the shirt to do it. I'm sure she won't mind. But I'll ask her about it." he smiled. "Any other thoughts before I leave to go get her?" he asked as he started to turn off towards the rooms.

"Ah ah ah guys," Luca wiggled a finger and dropped his accent, "We're having a few days off before I drop my disguise and do the interview. Hopefully, we can relax a little bit to take the stress off of the last few days, like Dawn Station and getting Enzo's shuttle - and I will be Mr. Yamada."

He then segued back into his Tourist's voice, Mr. Yamada seamlessly, "Now let us go to the hotel and get the rooms! Then we go out and take pictures!"
Sebastian simply nodded, smiling wryly at the disguise, "I'll stay here with Vincent and the others. I'm fairly recognisable too," He said as he brushed his full beard, which was similar in composition to Luca's in addition to the family resemblance.

Luca was determined to stay in character, for all of five days before he'd decide to go public and do the interview, his acting skills (practised either in front of a mirror or by watching his voluminous movie library) were good enough to make others who weren't actively looking think that he was Mr. Yamada - a perverted Yamataian tourist.

"Now, Mistah doctah," Mr. Yamada waddled over to Daxle, whilst doing so he walked past Zeta, took the glasses from her and gave her a nod of thanks before putting them on, "Yoooou need to unwind a little! Come with me and let hair down! Advertising Campaign on hold but suggestion welcome!" He then gave him a playful punch on the shoulder.

"Now Mistah Engineer," He continued without breaking his accent, "We shall make this Grapple Stunner undah lock and key and in-cog-neeto!" He grinned, "I or the others will buy what you ask for!"

Finally, he looked over to Uriel, "Mistah Elysian! We worry about interview when it happens, but it good to know you planning for it!" He then smiled, letting his character drop a little to show a smile of approval before getting back in very hastily, "Now lets go! Go and enjoy life for few days!"

Luca was also determined to stay in character by any means possible, even if it was to annoy the team he had with him. He exited the ship with the others in tow and took a breath of the sickly sweet fledgling Nepleslian atmosphere.

-

The hotel booking went smoothly, and rooms were booked for whoever felt like following Mr. Yamada on his exploits. However, the first day was shaping up to be the simple one of just relaxing in the hotel room, watching some television.

Unless anyone had any other suggestions, the bar was open later that night.

Back in the hanger of the Kestrel, Enzo Bortelli was hard at work on the Lady. He was checking his systems for any modifications, adjusting his 'Captain's Chair' over and over again, painstakingly re-arranging the menu screens on the main console, and getting the place back to its old 'tobacco humidor' scent. He'd phoned his uncles not too long ago, notifying them of his arrival on Prime. Uncle Lucco had assured him that they'd be willing to do a re-working of his security system in the morning, so long as he was willing to pay for it, as usual.

Now bored for the moment, he keyed his comm unit and signaled John. "Hey, Bamboo Bob," The grifter used the nickname he'd given John back on drift, "What's the words on openin' these hanger doors for me? I gots an itch to take her out for a flight, see?"

'Layers. Remember, it has to go on in layers.' Smith reminded himself while in his hotel room. The Origin representative was dressed in business casual; black slacks, a white shirt and red tie. Nothing special. What was special, or odd as one may say, was that he was leaning over a sink and dabbing on makeup. So far, he had applied the base layer. This of course, had to be followed up by several more layers of makeup so that it formed something almost akin to a 'second skin', the final layer reacting and melding with the previous ones to form a perfect version of the skin on his face. 'This was originally made to help people with bad discolorations, birthmarks and things like that, so it shouldn't give me any trou - '

As the final layer dried, he let his jaw drop. The skin on Smith's face was smooth, flawless, and perfectly colored. It was too perfect. 'Why didn't I see this coming?' The Ori-Rep mentally groaned. His hand reached out to grasp at the bottle, and read it's fine print closer. As a business man, he always read the fine print, but he had let himself slip. The words 'contains hemosynth derivative' was present. Smith clutched the short canister like a baseball pitcher ready to throw and...stopped himself short of sending the small bottle sailing.

That was why he let the fine details slip past him. This was all too...personal. 'When's she going to bug me anyways?' He wondered. The Neko still hadn't given him any real details, and he was stuck waiting on her. A whimsical thought crossed his mind. 'I wonder, is her skin or mine smoother now?'

The thought made him insecure in regards to his masculinity.

Back at the Crimson Kestrel, John responded to Enzo, "I'll open them," He said as he started to open the hangar doors slowly and steadily with a few presses of the keys on his console, "Just try not to attract too much attention to yourself. We don't want a war on our doorstep - these're our days off, remember? Treasure them and all that whatnot."

He then resumed reading his magazine, flicking the pages slowly and steadily.

"Your Fleshbag pornography disgusts me, fleshbag," Echelon's voice could be heard taunting John.
John just adjusted his shades and said, "Deal with it."

"Well then I guess I will be Mrs. Yamada then, right hon?" Zeta asked Luca with smile. She then waited for him to speak his mind out, before going out with him to the hotel.

-

Zeta was in the room sitting in the chair next to the door. Luca was doing something while she kept guard. Zeta had no idea how he felt about her sharing the room with her. She did not really care though, she wanted to keep an eye on him, since he was bound to do something outgoing soon. He always does.

"Why don't we go to the bar Hubby?" Zeta asked Luca with jokey tone in her voice. She smiled and looked at his reaction. She still had dress on her but held Fatboy she smuggled inside the hotel and had handy should something happened. Of course she did not plan to take it with her to the bar. Big revolver and knife will be enough there.

"De finest bottle on Nepleslia Prime, mon" the heavily accented red-haired man in a top hat told Daxle as he was checking out some of the liquor stands near the bar around the hotel.
"o'course, 'tis famous around de galaxy, ya hear?" the man continued, holding up a bottle of Seamus Von Chekov's Honey Ice Vodka.
"Oh I've heard of it alright. I'm just...just...not sure if I want it to be one of those nights, you know?" Daxle replied, clearly thinking it over.
"Tell ye what, mon. You buy dis one here, 20 ya? and get dis complimentary case of da stuff wit' it ok?" the salesman pressed.
"Wait, shouldn't it be the other way around?" Daxle asked now confused.
"Say wot?"
"Oh, oh nothing, yea that sounds great, I'll take it" Daxle said quickly.
"Excellent! you have all dis mon, I take dat 20 cred from ya ha ha! Dis a good day mon!" replied the salesman, clearly convinced he had won out on the exchange.
Daxle, now laden with his favorite liquour (which he conveniently failed to tell the salesman that he already knew about it) in a full case plus one bottle, walked away feeling both successful thirsty.

"Yeah! I wonder if they have nude waitresses like the brochure advertised?" Mr. Yamada inquired as he stood up and brushed himself off, keeping his hat and sunglasses over spectacles on, "Let's find out."

After heading downstairs and finding the bar itself, Mr. Yamada was somewhat deflated to find out that the waitresses, whilst topless, were not entirely naked, due to judicious use of bikinis - some of which even had non-concealed weapons for touchy patrons.

He still sat down and ordered a stiff drink, as well as a good dinner, "This place nice, but not as advertised."
A patron nearby kind of shrugged in agreement, "You're telling me. Why'd you bring the missus along?"
"What? She likes women too!"
The nearby patron smirked and resumed drinking too.

"Where are others?" Mr. Yamada inquired to his missus, "They missing out on fun times and alcohol."

-

The drink that Daxle had purchased was a bargain, it smelt like sweet manna from heaven. Shared and enjoyed by both working class and the idle rich. It was very, very tempting to open the bottle and have a drink right there and then.

A stifled chuckle could be heard from a table directly behind Luca as an entirely incognito Robert peered at them from over a newspaper. And through a phony mustache and beard. To top it all off both his hair and the beard were grey. He gave them a wink and said "I figured I'd try my own hand at disguises Boss. Got this close and the...Mrs. didnt even recognize me. He gave them a full cheese type grin. Most of his normally visible scars were also remarkable absence. Only a couple of his more prominent ones remained giving him the full appearance of a very good looking older Nepleslian. "Watcha think boss?"

"No problem, Bamboo Bob. No ones I'm talkin' to will come anywheres near the ship." Enzo replied, starting the ignition sequence for the Lady of the Night. Once started, the small freighter slid out of the cargo bay and into the clean air over Nepleslia Prime. The blue sky that greeted Enzo set his mind at ease as the city passed by underneath him. Soon, he was hovering above the bacteria rich Prime ocean. He engaged the auto-pilot and opened the cargo-bay doors. Then, he exited the bridge and made his way down to the hold.

Pushing the crates of rotting apples and long-outdated trend capitolizing merchandise out of the ship and into the ocean was easy enough. Beau had cleaned up the ship fairly well, and had been forced to move all the boxes towards the door. Once his chore was done, Enzo sat up an old lawn-chair on lip of the door and pulled his guitar from its case. Then, sitting out in the ocean breeze, he began to play a simple folksy tune.

He was finally at home, free to roam as he pleased once again. Enzo pondered how he would tell Luca that he was planning on leaving the crew. Then, he got a wonderful idea.

"Heh, maybe I can wring some money outta dis'."

Unlike the others, which he believed to be undoubtedly having fun, Smith was not. The man walked in a circle around and around and around a couch as he talked over a communications line to numerous people. " - and that's what happened." A pause. "Yes, that will work wonderfully. Thank you for your time." The Origin Representative stopped and took a breath. One down, another to go. He dialed out and reached the next contact. "Hello. We had a discussion earlier about how the cat was in the bag?" Smith spoke, putting out the cheesy and tasteless pass-phrase. Still, if it meant getting what he needed to get... "Yes, ship it directly to the location I've designated. You'll have your payment forwarded soon."

He hung up and sighed. Smith had no doubts whatsoever that the others were having a time, and checking his contacts, practically did another spit take when informed what 'Mr. Yamada' was up to. The man mulled it over for a moment. "In hindsight, it makes sense and isn't too surprising." Smith had to admit.

He'd let them go about their business for now. No need to intrude on them after all, unless he was called for of course.

Uriel was relieved that they had more time to prepare for the interview, but still irritated with Luca's choice of activities. Then again, he supposed that was something with which he would have to come to terms. After some contemplation, he decided simply to walk the streets. He could let his mind wander (though not too far; he was well aware of Nepleslia's quick-handed criminals) and do some people watching.

Uriel's stroll through the boomtown of Nepleslia Prime was... interesting. If you look close enough at any society, one would see exceptions to the partially self imposed and partially perceived rules. Example: Nepleslians as a whole are brash, brutish thugs at their nature.

However, there was an exception nearby: Four men smelling of oil and earth were sharing a beer together having an idle yabber about the day's events, including the huge nugget of ferrous ore and deposit of gems they found and sharing a round of drinks to celebrate the occasion. The true sparks of brotherhood could be heard in their voice - times were tough but they had eachother and the day's little victories to keep them going.

However, to most of the galaxy that would the exception that proves the rule. Just in the alleyway of the bar was someone slumped against the wall, clearly drugged out of his mind, reeking of alcohol and chemicals. Alone, unloved, and possibly self inflicted. It seemed that for every success, there was failure to make success seem all that more valuable in a place where everything can be torn out from under you with a phone call or a wrong move. The ones who died immediately were lucky. (Maybe, Nepleslians aren't too sure on an Afterlife, and are still getting it figured out.)

And sometimes, just sometimes, you could get out of that canyon of a rut if you were determined enough, had the right friends or a good hand dealt to you. You could essentially reinvent yourself if you tried hard enough. Go elsewhere, fade into obscurity. The refuse from The Lady of the Night fell into the ocean and Enzo watched, and savoured the moment. A new lease on life, out of the canyon and to wherever he pleased in life.

-

Meanwhile, to more basic matters and away from navelgazing, Luca blinked as he looked at Robert and gave him a quizzical glance, but he then resumed his Mr. Yamada persona by oogling at a woman whose cleavage you could practically lose your dog in.
Rob, I'm not Boss! I'm just a tourist! He sent Robert a telepathic message before seguing in to Mr. Yamada's crass personality, "Damn she has big 'uns!" He took a sip of drink to whet his palette, Nice beard, by the way.

That aside, there was still an hour or two until evening would come to cast an orange shade over the sky, and the archetypal Nepleslian nightlife would rise and rear its head and things would really get interesting.

However, there was no time like now for things to get interesting, as a man eight foot tall and almost half as wide clapped a hand on Mr. Yamada's shoulder.
"Oi, are you 'itting on me girlfriend?" He asked, obviously annoyed at the tourist's unwelcome attempts on his perceived property.

"No, just observing," Mr. Yamada held up his hand with a grin, "No touching. Would never touch her unless she wanted touches."
The big Nepleslian's face scrunched up in a mix of emotions, most of which were linked to/or hostility, "You wanna touch huh!?" He drew a fist back and threw a wild haymaker, "TOUCH THIS, BITCH!"

All it took to dodge this, if you were focusing, was a slight lean to the left side, so Mr. Yamada did just that. However, Luca did realise something, if he participated in this fight, he might blow his cover - then again - if he didn't, he ran the risk of getting his face pummelled in - either outcome would be detrimental.
He decided to go with the former and counter Mr. Big's unchecked haymaker with a left jab directly to the nose. Mr. Big didn't see it coming and even leaned into the punch, and the sound of dislodging cartilage could be heard.

"I know kung-fu," Mr. Yamada smiled, not dropping the accent, but his sunglasses and spectacles drooped, accidentally revealing his eyes to Mr. Big - the eyes of someone crazy as could be, and able enough to make it work, "Let's see what you got, wideboy."

Some of the others in the bar took a glance at the scuffle to be, and shrugged - apparently this was a frequent occurrence - just zoning disputes between 'tracts of land'.

Mrs. Yamada said hello Robert the grandpa and went on the ladies room. When she got back she could not do anything other then sigh. "How is he doing that?" she whispered and walked by. She could gut that pig with a knife, or shoot his head off, but sometimes rule 'there is no kill like overkill' would be too much.

She walked slowly to the big man who was turned back to her. She handed her handbag to Robert along the way. "Hold this for me please," she asked and walked on. When she was there she extended her strong cybernetic arm and caught the guy by his neck. "Excuse me, but this is me hubby you are trying to murderize and that makes me very unpleased. And when I am unpleased I make other people very unpleased too you ugly sob." She said and smiled. She then caught man's underpatns by its rubber and gave him the most massive wedgie she could.