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Eiru, Pyracan - Downtown
Consisting of four main streets with a combination goverment/law enforcement building in the center, building here has begun to fill in, and is pleasantly landscaped with a great view of the teal sea. Save for the aforementioned government/law enforcement building, a sanitation facility, and a desalination facility, the Outversers have been left to their own devices in creating infrastructure. Fused sand pathways lead west towards the western edge of town and the beach beyond, and east towards the settlement's docks and landing pad.
Kethren looks up at Al and chuckles "...We get diplomatic immunity for these things, right?" Floriana continues to stifle chittery snickers in the direction of the sombrero.
"I don't think there's a diplomatic immunity clause big enough to cover that hat," Alhambra drawls, continuing her amble out of the Government Building towards Rathenhope (and his impressive sombrero) and Kethren (and his small entourage). Rikki, her own kitten-ferrety-Ser-Creature-From-Baile, scurries out from behind her head onto her shoulder and waves at Kethren and Floriana.
"Everyone has pets," Rathenhope says with an amused grin. "I just have a Bren." There's a pause. "Same thing, really, I suppose." He looks up at his sombreo thoughtfully. "Just imagine it's a scale model of Sanc."
Kethren chuckles "Oddly enough, I found a scale model of Sanc on Comorro not that long ago. Still haven't put it together. And hey... Floriana's not a pet. It's... complicated. And Kail's just a friendly helped what carries tools for me. And he helped me carry those deck plates the once." Floriana returns the wave.
Cygnari arrives from Eastern Settlement.
Cygnari has arrived.
James Sterling comes out of the tavern, a pleased smile on his face. He reaches into a duffel bag slung over his shoulder and retrieves a boonie hat, which he drops on top of his head. For once the mercenary isn't bedecked in military hardware and soldiering gear: he's wearing board shorts, a Hawaiian shirt, and a pair of leather sandals. He spies Kethren conversing with a group of people he doesn't know and flicks the fellow a toothy grin and a lazy, vague wave.
"Uh-huh," Alhambra drawls, hooking one thumb in a belt loop and aiming a playful shoulder swat somewhere in the direction of below Rathy's sombrero. "An' stop tryin' to get me to come home with you, you lil rascal. You know I's spoken for." Pause. "...whut's a Bren? Also whut kind of beer is it?" James' approach gets a chin lift of greeting. "Who's yer friend, Keth? Heh. Looks like somebody's ready to hit the beach." She's standing over by Kethren (and entourage) and Rathenhope (and sombrero). She is only accompanied by a small creature, sitting on her shoulder, about the size of a chipmunk and a general ferrety-kitteny bearing. He is russet with black spots and seems to actually be waving at people with a tiny clawed forepaw.
Rathenhope
This human is approximately 5 foot 8 inches tall. His skin is tanned to a light brown with many freckles dotting it, though his Caucasian heritage is still evident. His features are smoothly set into his face, giving an appearance of youthfulness. His brown eyes look out from under a pair of thin black eyebrows. His jet-black hair is of medium length, slowly growing out.
He is wearing a black flak jacket with long sleeves covering his arms all the way to his wrists, and visible just at the top of the jacket is the collar of a black shirt, folded over. A pair of dark brown trousers are on his lower half, encircled by a lighter brown belt, with various pouches attached to it. He is also wearing a pair of grey boots, which are laced up to his ankles.
Cygnari meanwhile takes advantage of the rare opportunity to stretch his wings, flying high above the town, but still low enough to spot the folks below. Passing over them he's liable to blot out the sun for a few moments as he banks around to descend.
Cygnari
This avian being stands 9 feet tall, with a humanoid body, the legs and head of an eagle, and a pair of huge wings that fold against his back, and when extended form a wingspan of well over 20 feet. With the exception of the palms of his hands, his body is covered with feathers that are a chocolate brown in color, while his wings have feathers along their inner sides that are a light cream color. Attached to his lower back is a set of chocolate brown tail feathers that fade to a cream color at the ends, which hang down behind his legs.
Presently, he is dressed in a leather jacket and shirt, both of which have a hole in the back to allow the wing joints to move freely, with snaps above and below to hold them together. A pair of denim-like pants cover his legs, held up with a thick leather belt. He wears no shoes. Over his left eye is a highly visible scar that runs from between his eyes down through his left eye and to the top of his beak. However, in the socket now sits a healthy eye, a contrast from the signs of the old injury surrounding it.
Rathenhope rolls his eyes at Alhambra. "Uh huh. Whatever." There's a bee-deep, bee-deep from his pocket and he sighs, glancing at the PDA he withdraws. "Vacation cut short," he grumbles. "I'll explain what a Bren is later," he promises to Alhambra, giving Keth a nod as he steps back. "Catchya-later."
Alhambra
She is a human female, of faintly exotic racial origin, possibly Qua, and most likely somewhere in her late thirties. Long auburn hair, unstyled save for a part in the middle, falls partially over her face; trying to obscure a long scar that runs from her right temple to just below her right cheekbone. Her frame is sturdy: 165 pounds, 5'10", the lean, muscular build of a former dancer gone to less recreational pursuits. The manner in which she carries herself, when she moves, confirms it; while there is a grace there, it has been mostly overwritten by a wary readiness. The starting ghosts of wrinkles form around her dark brown eyes and thin lips, creasing her no-longer-soft light brown skin.
Her clothing is sturdy, and seems to be relatively new; khaki cargo pants, tall black military boots, a woven para-cord bracelet, and a gray tank top, are her 'usual,' along with the occasional addition of a paramedic's bag, a well-worn leather jacket, a sheathed combat knife, and/or a brown leather belt cinched with a steel belt buckle in the shape of a bear.
Kethren nods to Al "Hrm... He's um... Jim... something? I think. It's been a fair while since I've run across him, and I've had other projects taking up my time... about time to round up the next coffee shipment for the Heks, come to think of it. So what's been going on? Haven't seen you on Baile in ages. The farm was finished not that long ago. Good farmer's market set up there."
Sterling glances up as a shadow passes over him. He takes a few steps backward, his right hand moving instinctively toward his right hip and the sidearm that isn't there. "Don't tell me," he mutters in his Australian accent, "more aliens." He watches the bird-person warily, tilting his hat back on his head to get a better look.
Alhambra tips her own hat, a black cowboy one, back a bit to observe the shadow in the sky. "Welp, actually Mister Jim," she drawls, "We's the aliens here. That's a Falari, and there's a quantity of 'em living residentially both here an' the maindland." She shrugs to Kethren with a half-grin. "Welp, actually not a whole hell of a lot's been goin' on, so I haven't really needed time away from it, same to say. I mean y'know I got work and all but I ain't needed a sanity day in quite some time, knock on wood." She makes as if to knock on Rathy's head as he's on his way out, but misses the opportunity. "Drat." The Falari circling overhead gets a loud-ish "Howdy!" from the Sheriff.
Cygnari swoops down near the group, wings flapping furiously as he flips his feet down into landing position as he sets down on the ground. "Hiya folks. top of the day, fair winds and all that." he says, the edges of his beak turning up into a grin.
Kethren nods to Al "Well, some quiet is certainly nice. Specially after those dominion twits who were causing so much trouble. Oh, did we ever tell you they somehow forgot a couple of their ships on our spaceport? That was downright handy." That out of the way, he and his kittenferret offer friendly waves to the winged fella.
"It's James," Sterling snaps automatically, his gaze on the Falari as he lands. His right hand drops to rest against the strap of his duffle bag. He looks toward Alhambra, one corner of his mouth quirking up as he gives her a thinly-veiled appraising glance. "James Sterling," he continues, stepping up to her and extending a hand. "Don't b'lieve we've met."
Alhambra's return appraising glance is a bit more open, and smacks of the wariness typical of either law enforcement or anyone who's spent time anywhere one can call 'streets' without being sarcastic. "Uh huh," she drawls, with a solid nod. "Well then, Mister James. Al. Al Meers, Sheriff of Eiru, when I'm not bein' a horse farmer or a paramedic or a veterinarian or a councilwoman or y'know any of that small frontier town stereotype shit." The half-grin grows wider, and she ticks off a quick wink before offering a strong, but not crushing, handshake. Kethren gets an eyebrow raise. "Seriously, those snakey assholes were parked on your place? I hope you like scrapped the muhfuckers and like made coffee tables outta 'em or some shit. Pardon my Fran-case. I got strong opinions. Heh heh." She tips her hat to Cygnari, and the little Ser on her shoulder scampers up to the top of the hat to peer curiously at the avian. Or, more likely, he's casing the newcomer for snacks.
Cygnari looks to the little Ser, giving a chirpy chuckle as he's assessed. "No snacks here, I'm afraid, little dude."
Kethren smirks at Al "Not that far off, really. We traded them to the Heks in exchange for exclusive rights to supply their coffee for awhile. Thought it'd be good press. Along with keeping the Heks off our backs." The guard continues to look cranky, while Floriana scurries up to the top of Keth's head and tries to find snacks on the newcomer from a different angle. The penguin just lets out a friendly Wark.
Sterling's smile broadens. "Woman o'many talents, then," he replies. "Y'get a lotta trouble round here? Seems like a nice 'nough place." He glances over toward Kethren. "Heard you lot've got some killer coffee." He tilts his head to the side. "Could be we talked about that on Baile when I first arrived." He opens his duffel bag and rummages around in it.
"Welp, I suppose one good asshat deserves another," Alhambra drawls to Kethren with another chortle. "Chrrrf!" Rikki 'says,' and then decides to scurry along Alhambra's arm to see if James has any treats. "Jesus fuck," the human rumbles. "You ate a whole fuckin' donut like -ten minutes ago-. It was bigger'n YOU. Stop moochin' man people are gonna think I starve your greedy little ass." "Fffff!" the tiny creature replies, and continues eyeballing passersby, radiating an almost palpable sense of begging for foodstuffs. She chuffs, still grinning, at James. "Been a lot less trouble since I showed up, if I do say so myself. I got nothing but admiration for the last Sheriff, but he was a classy dude an' I have a tendency to punch folks in the mouth if'n they get notions of skirtin' authority and such."
"Sometimes the direct approach can work wonders." Cygnari says with nod to Al.
Kethren nods to Sterling "The chocolateish kind does enjoy a fair amount of popularity, yeah."
"Any particular laws y'got round here I should know of?" Sterling grins, looking up momentarily from his search in the duffel bag. "I mean aside from the standard 'Don't kill people, don't take their stuff' kinda thing." Something plastic crinkles from inside the bag. "Do yer pets there understand English?" he asks.
Alhambra utters a proud grunt. "Yessir it can," she drawls to the Falari, adding a "In my opinion, bureaucracy sounds a bit too much like 'ruling by furniture,' so up in here on Eiru the folks that live an -work- here done made the laws." Her half grin fixes on Sterling. "Don't be a dick," she says with a rolling chortle. "I tried to add that on the official doc-u-ment but Missy Rose done said that would be too unofficial and all. They posted around here... somewhere..." Rikki, exhibiting his ability to understand spoken word, makes what can only be a sarcastic face and points to the plaque directly on the Governmental Building that Alhambra had in fact exited not long ago. Then he makes some unmistakeable 'wanty fingers' gesture at whatever is crinkling in the duffel bag.
Micky arrives from Eastern Settlement.
Micky has arrived.
Kethren nods at Sterling "Well, pet's not at all the right word, but yeah. Floriana understands us. Kail does too, really. But he's something of a special case."
Folks're standing around talking. Rikki is begging for snacks fro all around.
Cygnari pulls out a PDA and checks it. "Hmm. About time to meet that merchant. Another shipment of goods to Comorro." he says. "Later all, maybe another time." Spreading his wings, he lifts off and flies off towards another section of town.
Sterling chuckles, his gaze following the pointing finger of the ferrety-kitteny creature. "Oh yeah," he says. "Reckon I saw that when I went by earlier. Suppose I'll have t'read it sometime." He withdraws a small plastic bag from within the duffel bag and holds it up. On the bag is a cartoonish picture of a fat human man's face and the words "Uncle Bob's Super Potato Crispies!" in a red, pointy-edged cutout. "Y'want some crisps?" he asks the little creature, waggling the bag from side to side.
"Rikkitttch!" says little Rikki, hopping back and forth at a speed that nearly creates a motion blur. In a flash, he scurries down Alhambra's body and skids up to James, sitting at his feet with tiny clawed paws clasped together, his olive-black eyes absolutely pleading. "Reeek-kiti-titch?" Al shakes her head with a chuckle. "Now you've done it," she drawls. "He gonna eat that whole thing if you let him. They can eat like a gazillion times their body weight. Lucky little fuckass." She tips her hat to Cygnari. "Later. Fly safe, man."
Being just as stylish as Sterling is, Micky also has a duffel bag. He's also eating. He's got some sort of trail mix, though. He dumps it out of the bag and into his mouth as he wanders along. Shockingly, he's got a brown paper bag wrapped around a bottle in his other hand.
Kethren snickers at Rikki's antics as he reaches up to scratch Floriana. "Yeah, the only downside to having one of these friends is your grocery bills jumps up considerably." Wark!
Sterling peers down at the little creature, laughing. He pops the bag open and takes out a couple of potato crisps, holding them between his thumb and forefinger, and extends his arm away from his body. "C'mon," he encourages, "come an' get 'em!"
There is literally a puff of sand and road dust as Rikki darts, at a speed that is nearly un-see-able with the human eye, up the nearest wall and launches himself in the direction of the potato crisps like a tiny kung fu hero. If he is successful, half a crisp will disappear into his tiny fangy maw and he will retreat a small distance away, cheeks pooched out comically, to chew it with buzzsaw speed. Then, he will dive again. Al just shakes her head. "Welp, you done it now..." she trails off as Micky makes his ambling approach. "...an' there's that guy again. Hnh."
Akamatsu arrives from Eastern Settlement.
Akamatsu has arrived.
Being labeled 'that guy' doesn't seem to hurt Micky's feelings all that much. He offers up a casual sort of head nod to the group - which is everyone else plus assorted little lackeys for Kethren and Alhambra. They're standing around, talking. He's walking around, eating.
Kethren glances at Micky before back to Al "Oh, right. The universe drunk." As he does this he fishes out a bag of berries from somewhere and opens it up for Floriana to snag a snack from.
Sterling's eyes widen in surprise at the speed and agility of the little creature. He doesn't move, but keeps his arm out, waiting for Rikki to come back to claim the rest of the potato crisp. "Damn," he comments through his laughter. He flicks a sidelong glance toward Micky and offers him a "G'day".
Emboldened by the previous success and the human's awe, Rikki makes his next full speed scamper right towards James, aiming to run up his body. If successful, he will perch right on the crisp-bearing hand and have those potato snacks reduced to salty sawdust in no time at all. Cleaning his whiskers with a blur, once more the waves of big-eyed entreaty wash forth. "Rikki you are a tiny mooch and a shitter," Alhambra drawls, shifting her weight to lean on a lamp post. She is, however, still grinning.
Akamatsu looks to be heading into town about now, presumably getting back from work on Tavros, and on his way home. It isn't every day that he comes across a little gathering of several people he's familiar with from over the universe in one place, however, and so, it earns his attention and that's where he heads on a little detour, a nod in greeting to the group and the question, "Something up, guys? Been a while since I've seen you all here."
Micky rolls up his bag of trail mix, stuffs it into the cavernous expanse of a cargo pocket, and removes the (plastic) top from the bottle in the bag o' paper. His wandering leads him over to get a view of the desalination facility.
Kethren nods to Aka "Running things and dealing with city planning has a way of eating up my time."
Sterling shakes with booming laughter, the motion no doubt having no discernable effect on little Rikki. "Jus' mind th'fingers, there," he advises the kitten-ferret. "Can't give y'another one when yer sittin' on me 'and," he explains, glancing to Alhambra. "An' I reckon yer mum might be mad at me if I let y'just' dive inta th'bag, amusin' as that'd be." He looks over at Akamatsu. "G'day, there," he says. "Jus' takin' a little time t'see th'sights," he explains.
Rikki runs around a bit before darting to a more snack-accessible place. Al looks up at Aka's voice. "Heyyy, honey," she drawls, half-grin widening ever further. "Well I was comin' outta work an' ran into Rathy carryin' a coupla gi-nor-mous sombrero hats of all things an' then Mister Kethren showed up an' then his pal Mister James who is currently bein' shaken down by Rikki dear, an' well there's that Micky guy travellin' around drunk again. So long as he don't start shit, I suppose. How you doin?"
Akamatsu raises a brow to Al, simply asking "The hell is a sombrero hat?" His attention then shifts to Sterling as he adds "That's...an impressive accent you've got." He looks at Rikki now and adds back to Al, "Well, at least I know he doesn't just do it to try annoying /me/."
Kethren idly watches the folks chatter back and forth, scratching Floriana a bit as he does. Wark!
"Same one I always 'ad," Sterling comments to Akamatsu. Once Rikki moves from his hand, he reaches into the bag again and takes out a few more crisps. He holds his arm straight out again, waiting for the kitten-ferret to charge down his arm and disappear the snack a la the Tasmanian Devil of old Earth cartoons.
Naoi arrives from Eastern Settlement.
Naoi has arrived.
Naoi
Short, slim, with a bounty of platinum blonde hair that's been scrubbed clean of usual debris and braided neatly down just pass her strong shoulders, and threaded through with a single delicate bell flower freshly picked for the occasion. Even her face has been cleaned, dirt accumulated over a year of harsh living wiped from a face that reveals itself to be the picture of youth. Though in her leather and steel she looks the wild animal, in her soft silk and cloth, it reveals that she is yet a girl and not quite a woman.
Her own clothing are archaic, a long blue dress with minimal decorations, and though the corset is strung tightly the bell bottom hides form past the hips. For shoes, she has chosen sensible attire; flat, monochrome pumps.
"It's a big whoppin-ass Mexico hat," Alhambra drawls, making appropriate 'big whoppin-ass hat' gestures. "I'll show you a picture or something later. I ast him if he had a permit for it. It was pretty funny at the time, I suppose." Rikki does indeed disappear that snack, slowing down only long enough for a blink's worth of his tiny flexing shoulders and gripping clawy paws. Once again, the crisp is buzzsawed away. There appears to be a loose group of people hanging out just a little bit in front of the Government Building, including an off-duty Al, a newly-arrived Akamatsu, James, Micky (who is checking out the view of the desalinization plant), Kethren, and the assorted creatures and robots and guards that tend to accompany Kethren. "Honey not for nothing but you talk funny too. Not for nothing so do I, I s'pose."
Apparently satisfied with the view of the desalinization plant, Micky and his brown paper bag wander towards the group of chatty types. He takes a couple of swigs to fortify himself as he goes.
Akamatsu shrugs a bit at Al, "Guess I stopped noticing." Looking back to Sterling he notes, "Guess we all talk a bit funny compared to the guys actually born here, though."
Sterling continues to feed potato crisps to Rikki. "Yeh, they do a lotta barkin' an' growlin' and chirpin' an' stuff, I reckon." He frowns. "All th'fur's a bit much sometimes. Really makes y'feel like an alien when yer surrounded by furry dog-people. Not t'mention the impact on the sinuses."
Half pale flesh, half muddy flesh, and one long braid that has lost most of its natural color under dirt and grime. That's really summarizes Naoi as she drip-drops her way past the law enforcement building.
"Ain't got allergies," Alhambra muses, as Rikki continues to chew through every snack he's offered. Naoi gets a brief double-take, at least until Al figures out who it is. "Heyo, Missy Naoi," she drawls. "Feel free to avail yourself of the hose out back. Just don't scare the deputies, awright?" She watches Micky approach with a neutral expression shaded slightly with wariness. "Evenin, feller."
Kethren stretches a bit, still listening.
"How's it goin'? asks Micky to the group in general. He secures the plastic, screw on top once more on the bottle. That done, he nods a couple of times somewhat vaguely.
Sterling smiles in Naoi's direction, absently holding out another crisp. Akamatsu chuckles a bit to Sterling as he replies, "Suppose I got used to it quick enough. Not that there was a whole lot of choice in the matter." To Al he asks, "How could you tell it was her?"
Like an old tom cat fresh from prowling his territory, Naoi's acknowledgement is brief as she returns to her unofficial home. The quick snap of a hand attempts to claim the offered treat in passing. Nomph-crunch-crunch.
"'cause she's the only blonde jungle witch we got in the settlement?" Al replies, as Rikki turns into a bristling puffball at the sight of Naoi, and disappears with a "Ss-ss-ss-ss" and another puff of dust. For some reason, this amuses the hell out of Al, and she bursts into rumbly guffaws.
Sterling starts as Rikki vanishes, and stares dumbly at Naoi as she claims the potato crisp from his hand. "Er, g'day?" he says, watching Naoi more carefully now.
Micky rolls his shoulders back and stretches some. Amazingly his funky body odors are at a minimal level today. He eventually finishes stretching and fiddles with the shoulder straps of his duffel bag.
Akamatsu smirks a bit at Al, "Jungle witch, nothing, I was looking at a moving pile of mud."
The sound of running water begins, followed by splashing. From the back of the building, one cautious man calls to Alhambra. "Uh, boss?" He'll wait a heartbeat for her to respond before continuing, "There's a naked broad spraying herself in the face with a hose at full blast. Do I, uh, arrest her?"
Alhambra pauses in her guffawing to wipe at her streaming eyes and holler, "No, that's Missy Naoi. Well, it ought to be under all the mud, go get 'er a towel, man." She clears her throat and regains a touch of composure. "Y'see what's so funny... is that the other day like, Rikki was all up beggin and beggin and begging Missy Naoi for some food and then they was playin... so she picks him up and puts him in her mouth, like. Not eatin' him or nothing just like playin' and he got so goddamn embarassed it was great he was all sulkin for like a day and a half. It was great. He's a pompous little jerk." She pauses. "Goin' fine there, Mister Micky. How you doing?"
Sterling's gaze follows Naoi until she vanishes behind a building. He folds up the crisps bag and what little contents remain inside it, not really paying attention to what he's doing. One eyebrow quirks up at the word 'naked'. He makes three attemps to put the crisps bag in his duffel bag before he finally looks and manages to do it successfully. "That's ... that's just odd," he says, looking over at Alhambra.
Kethren is lost in thought.
"Eh," shrugs Micky eventually by way of an answer to Alhambra before he tells Sterling, "You get used to it."
Naoi returns, dressed in a long tunic that goes past her thighs. The mud has been washed away, though it remains in her hair in clumps and reminds that she is still dearly in need of a bath. "Thank you for the hard bread," Naoi says, bowing slightly to Sterling.
"Welcome to Eiru, Mister James," Al thunders, gleefully. "We got folks from all places and all times up in here and it's all right. She don't do nobody any harm, an' she's a damn sight tougher'n she looks. Ain't nobody I'd rather have my back than Missy Naoi. Ain't that right, Missy Naoi?"
"Er, yer welcome," Sterling replies, offering Naoi a smile.
Sterling hefts his duffel up onto his shoulder. "Reckon I'll go have a bit of a walk," he announces. "Nice t'meetcha, Sheriff." He smiles to Alhambra, gives a vague wave to Akamatsu and Kethren, and heads off to the east.
Alhambra tips her hat. "Have a good one, Mister James. Behave yourself, hear?" She looks around. "Wow... Rikki damn took off to who knows where. He's prolly at home now, havin' a good sulk."
Akamatsu smirks a bit, "Probably planning on taking his revenge out on a pair of my boots or something, the little prick." He gives a nod as Sterling heads out and asks to Al, "So, been having a good day, then?" Keth gets a look, "And what brigns you to our neighborhood today, Keth?"
Kethren stretches a bit "No reason in particular. Change of scenery? I do spend rather a lot of time working on improving Eriacre."