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RP [Open RP] Welcome To The Kikyo Sector

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Kozakura just laughed a little, "Is it the uniform?" Taking a moment to compose herself she then added, "Sorry, no you're not in trouble. I just found you to be really unique and wanted to meet you, maybe talk a little bit too. So when you're done performing maybe we could sit and chat for a bit?" By the end Kozakura was rubbing the back of her neck with slight nervousness. She hadn't intended to frighten the girl, and it made her think that she might have come off as a little creepy.
 
"Ah," Kwabba-an exhaled softly, and in doing so her whole body released some of the tension that it was now obvious she had been carrying. The ant anthro's big brown eyes looked away, but not at anything in particular. They returned after only the span of a breath, just long enough for her to unambiguously nod to the dragonlike woman who now stood over her. She looked away again. Then she looked down at the glass and bottle of water that occupied two of her hands before taking a gulp from the glass.

In her mind, her imagination ran wild with the stimulation of her social interactions. She didn't see pictures, exactly. Instead, she felt the abstract notion of different situations play out in her mind. These situations involved the people who were suddenly addressing her, and she felt like she had no control over what raced through her mind. This lack of control frightened her, but she couldn't help but enjoy the ideas with which she was presented.
 
As the bar filled with more and more people, Thia gave up trying to maintain a mental model of everyone. Instead, she narrowed her focus to this smaller clique of Star Army service members with whom she felt she was developing a bond.

Thia watched as Pidole volunteered to get the luggage, explained herself briefly, then excused herself. Bringing her glass up to her face, she sipped at the fizzy drink, peering over its rim to watch the red-haired wrench-wielder walk away. In her mind, she had made her move and pounced on a helpless creature slaking its thirst at the local watering hole, but the creature had scurried out from her grasp.

As Cassie began to talk, she turned and listened intently, finding that she was developing a feeling for the androgynous anthro. Was it respect? Admiration? Whatever it was, she certainly appreciated Cassie's helpful attitude and directness with their words.

You've got to give her actions, not words, tickled the surface of Thia's brain and she found herself frowning. And I think she's afraid of you because you're coming on too strong.

Thia inspected Pidole's form from a distance, then looked at Cassie with the kind of glare that could be misinterpreted as a barely simmering rage. This only lasted for a moment before she reapplied her mask of amusement.

"But," when she spoke, her voice was entirely unlike the anger that had briefly taken up residence in her features. Instead, her words had a tenderly probing quality, like the way a cat might reach out to paw at its kitten if it suddenly stopped moving. "If I act, won't that be coming on even stronger?"
 
Entering the the crowded bar, his shuttle seeming to take an eternity to arrive. A drink and a stiff one seemed a requirement. Entering through the crowd of Star Army personnel and random bar goer's. The thin faced half tree elf and Abwheran, brushed a gloved hand down his face to his white overcoat. Ensuring briefly, his implanted eye patch covered his left eye. His cybernetics taking a toll during the trip, already souring his mood. Erinthel looked through the motley crew that crowded around the bar and stage. His bright verdant eyes scanning as many faces as he could, before losing interest.

Making his way to the actual bar, Erinthel looked to the bartender his words a strange mixture of accented Abwheran and yamatai-go ." Double whiskey, make it a strong Nepleslian. And keep them coming."
 
Delmira will straighten up and chuckle "Sorry Kinie am i making you uncomfortable?" she asks reluctantly moving from the neko but still keeping her close. She will smile "And yes i do like you." Delmira slurs her words a bit but she doesn't want to move away from the warmth of her friend. In her drunk state it appeared that Delmira was a very affectionate neko though even in training Del thought Kinie was cute. Regardless she purred contently and enjoyed being close to her friend.
 
Kozakura smiled a bit awkwardly at the nod but quickly added, "Thanks, I'm gonna go find a booth or table so that we can talk when you're done." With that said she gave Kwabba-an and the other woman some space as she walked off to go find a place to sit that wasn't at the bar. It was difficult navigating the crowds, but eventually she found herself near where the instruments and speakers were. Her red eyes scanned the area for a table and she quickly spotted a group getting up and leaving. Without hesitation she snatched one of the seats and got comfortable.
 
The feline woman had turned to answer the woman at first, but realized she had walked off now. "damn chasers,....too many bahdies, naht enooehgh patience.", Fiamma grumbled as she downed the whiskey. It certainly was finer then what she usually kept in stock on that damndable ship. At least she didn't have to worry about the broken heating units for the third time this week.

Maybe that would get Kessler to do some repairs for once, something she chuckled to herself about. With man soon sitting beside her, and ordering the same drink, it seemed opportune. "oi, barkeep! might as well send me anahther while you 'ave de bahttle. it's gahnna be a lahng night, and so many people."

A once over was given of the man however, an elven pretty boy at first sight. Those were certainly a rare sight she felt, and yet he seemed different somehow. Well, beyond the cybernetics he had, as she knew what to look for to notice such. Fiamma debated saying something, but he looked like a hardass for some reason though. "quite de diverse show tahnight, and plenty flavahrs o' 'ahrny it seems. what a strange land indeed.", The feline commented to herself.
 
Erinthel looked to the Feline woman next to him, subconsciously sizing the woman up."I wouldn't be surprised if that was the case. Im glad i left, the sooner I leave again, the better. I see at least one other person here, knows a good Whiskey when they see one. Despite my terrible shuttle ride here, most of Yamataian space hasn't seemed to change much. Newer species but what else is new?" His cybernetics flashed their bright verdant glow, as he subconsciously attempted to grab smoke from his jacket. Forgetting Yamatai laws briefly, before padding his jacket a few more times. Recalling completely. He had prepared and left any that he had off planet. With a heavy sigh, Erinthel pulled a match from his pocket, holding it in his lips, to help ease his mind."it's already a long day."
 
Sanda raised a lightning bolt covered eyebrow has the small bug lady took her the proffered water bottle along with another glass from the bartender. Poor little thing looks scared out of her mind. Thought Sanda. "Yeah requests." She repeated out loud. "You know any songs we could sing along to. Like 'all for me grog' or 'drunken sailor', though maybe those aren't quite your style."

Sanda saw the dragonesque lady approach and ask to meet with the musician. Although from where the tall Nepleslian was standing, it seemed less a conversation and more of an awkward silence. Sanda turned back to the bar, finally getting her rum. She held her hand on the bottle before the bartender could take it way. "Better leave that for now." She stated with another smile. She took a sip of her rum, closing her eyes to savor the flavor. "Ah, good stuff." She held her glass up to the light, admiring the color as a big Nepleslian came in between her and the feline woman from earlier. Feeling that the bar was starting to get to crowed Sanda took her glass and the bottle and started looking for a place to sit down. She noticed the dragonesque lady had found a table near the stage and thought she'd try. Making her way through the crowd Sanda stopped at the table and said, "Place is pretty crowded. Mind if I join you? I enjoyed the music and you've got a front row table."
 
Kwabba-an listened to the much taller woman's request and nodded slowly.

"Okay," she responded softly before taking another quick sip from her glass of water. Spinning to face her corner, she was temporarily overwhelmed by the sheer mass of bodies around her, most of whom practically towered over her. Then she realized that her short stature may actually give her an advantage, and crouched down. While there was still the same number of bodies between her and her stage, she was able to see more clearly between peoples' legs. This allowed her to scurry through the crowd much easier than she would have otherwise, and she soon found herself back among her equipment. She breathed a sigh of relief, feeling like she was back in her element, before she set down both of her vessels of water.

The ant anthro assessed her options and thought back to her studies. Something to sing along to, she thought, and she detached a small device from her biggest speaker and pinned it to the fabric of her dress off to one side of her chest. Then she picked up the smaller of the instruments she had before along with its bow, and turned on its respective speaker. Hopping up on her stool first, she span around to survey the crowd again. Her attention fell upon the dragon woman sitting immediately in the front along with the tattooed nepleslian who was standing at the same table. Finally able to look them in the eyes, she practically beamed at them before she continued her survey and realized that the room was filling out and she didn't exactly have a stage. She frowned at this, but only momentarily, at which point she hopped up to stand upright on her tall barstool, which let her look out over most everyone.

They're cold, she thought. Better warm them up first.

Careful not to brush up against her lapel microphone, she placed the fiddle into the crook of her neck and started plucking at the strings one at a time, adjusting the tension as required to get the fiddle to turn the appropriate shade of green. Just like last time, she did this with the speaker on, her plucking quite audible over the sounds of the bar. When she was done she burst into a jig, folding her lower arms behind her back and moving her body in time with the quick rhythm of the piece.

When she felt enough of the crowd start to look her way again, she finished off her fiddling with a flourish.

"This next one was a request for something we could all sing along to." Her voice was projected into the crowded space now, picked up by the microphone she had attached to her dress so that she didn't have to strain herself to be heard. "This is an oldie. If you don't know the words, don't worry. More than half the lines are the same."

This time when she started playing her fiddle, it wasn't anything complicated. In fact, it was just a simple four note melody played plainly over and over to establish the key before she began to sing.

"The year was seventeen-seventy-eight
How I wish I was in Sherbrooke now
A letter of marque came from the King
To the scummiest vessel I've ever seen

God damn them all, I was told
We'd cruise the seas for American gold
We'd fire no guns and shed no tears
Now I'm a broken man on a Halifax pier,
The last of Barrett's privateers


Oh Elcid Barrett cried the town
How I wish I was in Sherbrooke now
For twenty brave men all fighermen who
Would make for him the Antelope's crew

God damn them all, I was told
We'd cruise the seas for American gold
We'd fire no guns and shed no tears
Now I'm a broken man on a Halifax pier,
The last of Barrett's privateers..."


The song continued, telling the story of an ill-fated pirate crew who set to sea to steal gold from the trading vessels of a neighbouring nation, only to have their efforts easily thwarted by such a trading vessel.
 
"Maybe but it can't be worse than having to listen to you," Cassie zinged. "She'll probably just keep staring at you in mixed fascination-horror either way," the anthro told Thia with a laugh. "She seems shy but she's easygoing. Otherwise she wouldn't be getting dragged around by the Kawa sisters."
 
"HA!" In response to being zinged, Thia unleashed a single burst of laughter. It was so loud and piercing that, had it continued for any longer than a fraction of a second, someone might have thought she was being murdered. Thankfully for everyone, her caught-off-guard laugh was one and done. Laughter still poured from her, but it was more of a rolling chuckle, like an aftershock. "I'll keep that in mind, cutie pie."
 
From her seat at the table Kozakura looked up at the lightning bolt tattooed woman and upon seeing her uniform said, "Please, be my guest." At which point her tail pulled a chair out for Sanda. The bar was a little too crowded to be selfish about the space after all, especially when the person in question was another member of the Star Army. She herself was clad in a Star Army uniform, and though it may have been hard to tell in the darker light of the bar, her panels weren't that of the infantry's cornflower blue, but a blue with no name only a hex code designation. Sometimes called azure, sometimes called lapis lazuli the important thing was it marked her as a journalist of the Star Army.

"Santô Hei Tatsugami Kozakura," she added with a small wave. Though her attention quickly turned to Kwabba-an's stool as the woman began preparing for another song. Bringing her tail around to rest onto of her own lap the gently caressed the tip as it was still sore from being stepped on. However once Kwabba-an started in earnest, Kozakura found her attention solely occupied by the performance. Soon enough the androgynous dragonesque woman joined her voice to Kwabba-an's. It was a lot deeper than the ant woman's own, and with her own training in the art of singing she was quick to harmonize with Kwabba-an's voice. Even without a microphone of her own, her voice would audibly carry over many of those talking within the bar as she was fully capable of projecting it. Whether others were inspired to join, or intimated by the prospect was left to be seen, but neither thought deterred her from continuing and she fully suspected that with the many drunks around, a chorus of voices was about to be added.

* * *​

"God damn them all , I was told♪
We'd cruise the sea for American gold
We'd fire no guns and shed no tears♪
Now I'm a broken man on a Halifax pier♪
The last of Barrett's Privateers...♪"


* * *​
After it was all over, Kozakura simply clapped a little and waited to see that what the sometimes scaredy-cat sometimes brave ant woman would do.
 
After several rounds, Kwabba-an stopped playing and quieted her voice, putting on a sombre expression.

"So here I lay in my twenty-third year
How I wish I was in Sherbrooke now
It's been six years since we sailed away
And I just made Halifax yesterday"

Then she picked up her voice again for the final instance of the chorus.

"God damn them all, I was told
We'd cruise the seas for American gold
Now I'm a broken man on a Halifax pier"

And she drew out the final line.

"The laaast of Barrett's Priiivaaateeeeeeers."

Kwabba-an took a quick bow, then jumped from her stool, wasting no time in depositing her fiddle and retrieving the third of her four instruments from its oddly-shaped case. The instrument that she produced looked like a traditionally-styled drum with a pristine wooden body and leather heads that had quite obviously seen much wear. In a clear break from tradition, the drum had the broomhandle-esque neck of a small stringed instrument bolted to one side. Pulled tight along the length of the neck and across the centre of the drum were three strings. The centre section of the drum head, which was beneath the strings, showed very little visible signs of wear, while rounded sections on either side looked like they were on the very precipice of being worn-through. Along with the instrument, which she picked up with one hand, she used two of her other three hands to pick up plain wooden rods, each about a foot long. With her fourth hand, she retrieved a palm-sized triangular section of shell whose opalescent surface caused reflected light to dance around the room. She carried all of this back over to her stool, on which she sat. Unlike before, when she modestly crossed her legs and played one instrument on either side of her body, she now spread her legs and placed the head of the drum between her knees. Placing the tips of the wooden rods on either side of the drum head, she spent a long moment focusing on her breathing before she began.

In a flurry of movement, she began to drum a steady beat, quietly at first, but with increasing intensity. Before too long, the volume reached its climax. All the while, she maintained an intensely focused expression, attempting not to reveal the physical strain that the drumming caused despite the beads of sweat starting to glisten at her hairline. Once she felt that the energy of the room had sufficiently synchronized with the intense beat, she began to vary the sound by striking closer to the rim or even on the wood of the drum. After another moment of this, she beat a brief rhythm at half the speed but with all the intensity of what preceded it, then she stopped.

<"And so!"> She yelled a kakegoe in rough but impassioned Yamataigo, a pair of syllables that would sound like a simple primal yell to anyone who anyone who couldn't understand it. Either way, it provided auditory punctuation separating that which came before from that which was to follow.

With one of her left hands fingering the strings along the bolted-on neck of her instrument, she used the point of the triangular section of shell as a pick to strum and pluck aggressively at the strings that were drawn tightly across the drum head. Though her expression was still one of focus, this reprieve from the drumming clearly provided her a moment of rest as she looked up to survey her patrons.

<"That's the way!"> She shouted again.

The final section of the piece mixed the themes developed by the antecedent movements as she both played the strings and pounded out a thundering beat.
 
"Santô Hei Hoshi Sanda" Sanda responded with a smiled as she sat down while running an eye over her new companion. She was wearing an uniform and had the same rank pins as Sanda. But the color threw her for a moment before she suddenly realized that azure was for journalism. Sanda herself had the color of the standard infantry but she had the Star Army Ranger patch on her shoulder marking her as an elite trooper rather than a common grunt. There wasn't much time for more observations before the bug lady started playing again. To Sanda's pleasant surprise, the bug lady was playing an old balled. She turned in surprise when Kozakura joined in with a very lovely voice. It wasn't long before Sanda joined in as well. Though no nightingale by any means she still enjoyed singing and this was a song she knew.

"God damn them all , I was told♪
We'd cruise the sea for American gold
We'd fire no guns and shed no tears♪
Now I'm a broken man on a Halifax pier♪
The last of Barrett's Privateers...♪"


"You've got quite a voice yourself." Sanda commented to the woman sitting across the table from her as she applauded the performance. She also refilled her glass of rum from the bottle she had brought to the table. She offered the bottle to Kozakura if she wanted to join her.
 
"Thanks, I'm glad I've still got the ability," she laughed, "It's been some time since I've done singing of any sort." However it seemed that there was little time to chat as the ant woman quickly brought out a strange instrument that Kozakura had never seen before. The thing was fascinating in a sort of way that magic was to an onlooker who didn't know how it worked. As for the offered bottle, Koakura simply shook her head no as she settled in to listen to another performance.
 
"No. Honestly just being held is one of the things I enjoy most in life, although it's a little strange feeling in a crowded bar. Although it seems like no one really cares. I just I wish we had more time to get to know each other," Kinie told Delmira. "We're both on our way to new ships and new lives."

Meanwhile red-haired Pidole and green-haired Euikoshi returned hauling a heavy load of 4 sets of rolling luggage and 4 duffel bags, which they stacked by the door. "Get Cassie and Kinie and we'll get checked into the hotel above the bar," Euikoshi told Pidole, who went back into the crowd while Euikoshi guarded everyone's stuff. Pidole emerged from the crowd by coming up from under one of Cassie's arms. "We got your bags," she told Cassie over the sounds of people talking and apparent singing about what seemed like fictional nations. "We are going to get our rooms," she told Cassie. She then looked at Thia with a puzzled expression.
 
Steiner, after realzing that perhaps the league would not be the best place, as he was unsure if he would be able to repair his machine, and after the debacle that was his attempt at joining the Star Army figured at this point it may be best that he left Yamatai with all due haste.

"Here's your payment as we agreed." He tossed the box to the Neko after they arrived back at the Ternifac outskirts, "I thank you for your services." The Neko shrugged. "Don't know why you don't just come out of that thing, but whatever." As she left, Steiner looked up at the twin moons. He needed to see if their was a place he could go, even if it was just temporary-and hopefully wouldn't land him in anymore trouble than he already had.
 
OOC: skip to the end for a summary.

Towards the end of the final section, Kwabba-an looked out into the crowd. It was quite evident from her features that she was studying the faces of those who were looking at her. Once she made a complete survey, she started over. As she did so, the timing of her drumming diverged from that of her strumming developing a polyrhythm that slowly diverged more and more, until it reached the point of maximum asynchronism, and began to converge again. When the two rhythms converged, she let them stay in sync for the final measure, in which she gave a final reiteration of the main theme and ended on a satisfying note.

They're ready, she thought as she stood and took another brief bow. Or at least as ready as they'll ever be.

The ant anthro deposited her instrument and its accoutrements into its case, then approached the heavy object that had remained leaning against the wall since she had dropped it there shortly after she arrived. The mysterious object was wrapped in dirty cloth but it was still easy to see that it was roughly as tall as she was, cylindrical in shape, and looked like it was about as big around as her arms could reach. She pulled it away from the wall and unwrapped it, revealing that it was a section of tree trunk complete with bark on all but along one side. The side that was without bark had been planed flat to form a fretboard. Narrow strips of metal ran around the entire circumference of the trunk providing frets above which altogether too many strings were suspended by a fixed plate at one end of the log, and a tilted plate at the other end. The tilted plate had a pair of handles attached to it, though it seemed to lack any kind of hinge mechanism. Though what was still effectively a five foot section of log would normally weigh a substantial amount, Kwabba-an hoisted it with ease, plugged it into her largest speaker, and walked back to her stool.

"This is the first instrument I ever made," she held it over her head for the crowd to see. "It has twenty strings, one for each of my fingers. Aside from that, it's a bit rough around the edges."

Kwabba-an giggled quietly at her own joke, then looked down and considered her stool for a moment. She then tentatively started to set the instrument on top of it. The shape of the stool began to distort under the weight, and she quickly lifted the instrument away from it, then set the stool aside and sat cross-legged on the floor, setting the instrument across her lap, but off-centre so the end with the handles was closer to her. She pressed the fingers of her left hands down on the strings so they pressed against the frets and used the fingers of her right hands to pluck at the strings.

At first, it was a fairly simple melody that just happened to play across a wide range of notes. Once again, her voice filled the air to accompany the sounds of the instrument. But this time she sang in a language that she was sure nobody in the audience would recognize. It was a language punctuated by a clicking sound that she made with her mouth. Despite this, her singing was not simply meaningless sound. The tone of her voice was one of happiness, and the look she wore on her face reflected this.

As the song progressed, she began to incorporate more embellishment into the music. The high frets of her instrument allowed her to bend the notes quite deeply by pressing the strings, thereby elongating them and changing their tone. She began to use this to make the notes warble, and she started to make the music dance and play and suggest the notes that she actually meant, rather than playing them outright. For some time, she continued to sing without this embellishment, but before long her voice started to warble as well. As she did so, the tone of her voice changed to one of pleading.

Suddenly, she struck one of her right hands across all twenty strings and at the same time, her other right hand grabbed one of the bridge's handles and twisted it. The bridge, being a simple plate of metal, twisted under her immense strength. This elongated the strings unevenly, tearing the instrument out of its careful tuning.

She continued to play, but what had been wholesome, familiar chords before were now painfully dissonant. The intricately woven tapestry of her music unraveled. One by one, each of her fingers stopped frolicking across the strings until eventually only her singing continued. Her voice carried on but was full of sadness now. All of her energy seemed to drain away, but she continued to sing breathlessly, desperately.

Just as it seemed like the song was reaching its end, she hung on to what was apparently the penultimate note and used a single finger to pluck the main melody one note at a time on a single string. After a pause, she answered the instrument's call with her voice, still sad but together with the plucked notes the melody turned hopeful. Finally, the song drew to a close again, and on the final beat she struck two notes on her instrument while she sang a third, creating another dissonant chord, but one that she corrected by slowly bending one of the notes until it fell into place in the final resolution.

Kwabba-an looked out at her audience for a long moment. She pushed the instrument out of her lap. She stood up. She spoke.

"Thank you, I think that will be all for tonight," she said quietly and then bowed one last time.

OOC summary: Kwabba-an plays the song of her people.

Bonus, here's a crude schematic of her instrument (with only half as many strings as it should have).

 
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Sanda shrugged and put the lid back on the bottle of rum. Then she picked her glass up and took another sip. She stretched her long legs out in front of her and leaned back in her chair, letting her body relax. Being a ranger didn't give one much opportunity for relaxing. You had to be aware of every little detail going on around you. Sanda was still passively scanning the bar around her of course, but for now she was just enjoying the music and the company.

The Bug lady was certainly putting on a good show. She was a stark contrast from the timmed thing she had been when Sanda first spoken to her. She had never seen anything like her instrument, or the player if she had to be honest. When the bug lady finished Sanda stood up to clap. After her last bow Sanda motioned for her to join them at their table. Sanda pushed her chair forward to the musician then grabbed another chair from someone who wasn't paying attention and sat herself down in the chair.
 
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