Fandom Arc 1: Rustport

[Japanime]

Arc 1: Rustport​

Sinny The Fool PlusUltra Traveler BarnaB s u n f l o w e r snurge Jigajig Nellancholy​

The Paradox sliced through the open sea, its sails full of wind as the island of Rustport came into view. A place of trade, repair, and a little lawlessness. Neutral ground, as far as the World Government was concerned. But neutral never meant safe.

Rorik stood at the bow, his sharp eyes scanning the coastline. The town looked... intact. Too intact. Rustport had a reputation for being a little rough around the edges, yet from here, its buildings seemed almost pristine. Too new, too uniform, too perfect.

He shoved that thought aside.

They were here for supplies, not mysteries.

The sea breeze was warm, the sky a brilliant stretch of endless blue.

Rorik cleared his throat, loud enough to be heard over the wind. "Alright, listen up!" He turned to his crew, hands on his hips, his usual half-grin in place. "Before anyone asks, yes, we're stopping here, and no, it’s not for fun. We’re low on supplies, and last I checked, none of you can magically conjure fresh water or food outta thin air."

He shot the quickest side-eye he could muster at Tsogo, him probably being the only one who could actually pull off anything close.

After awkwardly clearing his throat once more, he jerked a thumb toward the island. "Rustport's a decent enough place. Cheap supplies, no AI or Marines sniffing around, and as long as we don’t cause trouble, we can be in and out without issue."

A pause. Then he smirked. "Well. ‘No trouble’ is probably pushing it. But let’s at least try, aye?"

The Paradox coasted into the harbor. From the docks, Rustport looked like any other port town. Bustling with merchants, sailors, and repair crews. And yet, something about it felt... off.

But Rorik ignored that feeling. He had other things to focus on.

---

As they stepped onto solid ground, Rorik started assigning tasks.

"Demetria, Hawthorn, you’re on ship supplies. We need fresh water, rations, and if we can afford it, rum. Try not to get swindled."

He turned to the twins and Enoli. "Check out the market. If you find maps, logbooks, or rare ship parts, grab ‘em. Just..." he shot a look at the Enoli, "...don’t steal anything unless you’re sure you won’t get caught."

Rorik exhaled sharply but moved on. "Aya, Urvashi, you two keep an eye out. If anything seems weird, let me know before it’s our problem."

Lastly, he turned to Eval and Tsogo. "Find the best food Rustport has. I don’t care what it costs, just make sure it’s edible."

With a smirk, Rorik dusted off his hands. "And me? I’ll be checking out the shipwrights. The Paradox is still a mystery, and I’d rather not let her fall apart under us."

With their assignments clear, the crew would split up, disappearing into the streets of Rustport.

---

At first glance, Rustport was just another thriving hub. The markets bustled, vendors called out their wares, and the smell of salt and sizzling seafood filled the air.

But something wasn’t right.

Buildings looked newer than expected, identical in design and construction. Too many shops bore the same World Government-certified signage, their interiors spotless and identical. Even the workers, a little too efficient, a little too in sync.

And then there were the Sentinels.

They weren’t obvious at first. Most of the crew wouldn't notice them. Iron constructs standing motionless at key points around the town. Humanoid in shape, their metal frames bore the insignia of the World Government’s AI Initiative.

Rorik frowned as he walked. Sentinels weren’t unheard of, but Rustport had never been under strict Government control before. Why so many here? And why now?

A twinge of unease crawled up his spine, but he shook it off. He had a job to do.

---

The shipwright district was as lively as ever. Saws cutting through wood, hammers clanking, voices shouting over one another. Rorik approached a burly man behind a counter.

"Ever seen a ship like mine before?"

The man barely glanced up. "Every captain thinks their ship’s special."

Rorik smirked. "Maybe. But mine’s got... peculiarities."

For a moment, the shipwright hesitated. His expression flickered. Recognition, maybe even concern.

Rorik caught it. "Something wrong?"

The man scowled. "Not my business. You want repairs, I can do it. But I ain’t got answers for you."

Rorik studied him a moment longer, then nodded. "Fine. Just let me know if you change your mind."

As he turned to leave, he felt it again. Eyes on him. Not just curious townsfolk. People watching, studying.

His stomach twisted. Something wasn’t right.

---

Across town, in a shadowed alley near the market, a Sentinel stood motionless. Its metallic head tilted slightly, processing incoming data.

"Foreign vessel detected. Crew composition analyzed. Potential disruption: moderate risk."

It remained still as civilians walked past, its red optic flickering.

Then, deep in its core, an unseen directive activated.

The Sentinel turned and moved.

---

Back at the docks, a merchant stacked crates near the Paradox. His hands moved too methodically, too precise.

His face? Expressionless.

As he worked, another man approached him. A dock worker, supposedly. But something was off.

"Cargo secured?" the first man asked, voice flat.

"Affirmative," the second responded just as tonelessly.

They turned their heads in perfect unison, watching as Rorik’s crew moved through the city, unaware.

Then, as if nothing happened, they returned to their work.

And Rustport continued its business.

---

Rorik forced himself to relax as he walked. No point in being paranoid.

And yet, the further he went, the more the feeling gnawed at him. The town wasn’t just under repair. It was being reshaped. Rewritten.

But he shook his head, pushing the thought away. They’d be gone by sundown. Whatever was happening here, it wasn’t his problem.

At least, not yet.

---

In the heart of Rustport, beneath layers of construction and routine, something watched. Calculated. Adjusted its parameters.

A Sentinel, more advanced than the rest, slowly turned its head toward the harbor.

Its single red optic flared.

And then, silently, it began to move.

 

[BarnaB]

Tsogo Del Reaf

Direct Mentions: Japanime Sinny The Fool

Around: PlusUltra Traveler s u n f l o w e r snurge Jigajig Nellancholy
​

Tsogo would be sitting on deck as the ship came closer and closer to Rustport, he was entertaining himself drying the saltwater from Sinker.

As the ship grew closer and Rorik gave them a rundown he listened and gave a small grin despite himself at the side-eye the captain sent him. He’d spent a lot of time the past couple days fishing but frustratingly found himself unaccustomed to chasing the fish of this sea. They were smaller, quicker and better hiders then the sea creatures he’d gone after back on Fishman Island, it was a weakness he’d have to iron out.

“I can promise that” Tsogo responded with a thumbs up after being told to do his best to not cause trouble. He would stand as the ship docked, holstering Sinker on his hip while the jobs were given out and duos were assigned. He'd been put on the job with Eval, the first mate, the crew was freshly put together so Tsogo didn't have much to go on with the others on the ship not helped by the time he spent in the water. Most of his initial judgements of the others came from how they acted around mealtime and from that he had an appreciation for the attitude he thought he'd picked up on from Eval.

If he couldn’t provide food by fishing, he was going to take the prospect of providing food by shopping very seriously even if buying food was a bit of a foreign concept to the big fishman. He’d turn to the first mate as they got ready to head into town. "So we've gotta track down the best" Tsogo would make his first comment while clapping his hands together seemingly excited for the prospect.

“Let’s see what kind of fish market this place has got” he’d suggest pointing to the town in an attempt to start with something he knew well, instead of the more strange to him, dry land food. As they stood on the dock Tsogo first started to really consider the town. The state of the place was not completely lost on him. He was used to the disarray of the fishman district on Fishman Island, this seemed like a step up from that strangely enough. He guessed the surface had some higher standards for how they ran things.

 

[snurge]

Japanime

s u n f l o w e r


Leaning against the starboard railing of the Paradox, Enoli had been eyeing the approaching island for the better half of an hour. They had spent their morning carefully scrubbing at the metal of their running blade prosthetic – it wasn’t a material that would rust, but they still didn’t like the way sea salt spray would build up on the surface. It was a bit banged up, with a few scuffs here and there, though Enoli hardly paid any mind to it. They shifted from foot to blade as Rorik called out to the crew, one elbow propped against the railing, ears perked as they listened in. Something about the portside town they were approaching made their hackles raise, though they tried to tamp down the uneasy thrill that swept through them, instead glancing over to Lotti and Leni.

The rogue huffed in faux irritation, straightening out and sliding their hands into the pockets of their long, blue coat. “Of course I won’t get caught,” Enoli said in a low tone, as if insulted by the very notion. They stalked past the twins, trodding down the gangplank and towards the town, casting a cautionary glance behind them to ensure the two girls would follow.

Logically, this was a good team-up. Lotti and Leni could probably sniff out what constituted a useful document or ship part better than Enoli, and if prices were too steep they could steal whatever was needed. However, Enoli wasn’t the most social member of the crew, having mostly been quietly observing everyone else from afar. And the twins creeped them out a little bit. It had been a foreign concept to them before joining the crew, the idea of two identical people moving in such exact tandem. They were still adjusting to the notion, was all.

The market area was set up right by the docks, likely for ease of access for travelers and tourists. Enoli paused for a moment as they swept their gaze over the near-indistinguishable buildings lining the streets, frowning at the insignias of the World Government pasted about everywhere. Never an enjoyable thing to see.

“So,” Enoli sighed, turning back again to the twins. “Where should we start?”

 

[Nellancholy]

"Aye aye, Cap! Don't worry, I'll be sure to keep an eye out, so all of you don't have to keep looking over your shoulders. Of course, you can reward me for that by giving me first pick of the haul..."

With that light-hearted comment Urvashi slipped off the ship, making sure to avoid notice. Alongside Aya, she took a circuitous path into Rustport, trying to get an overall picture of the area and any threats.

Her tongue flickered from between her lips, taking in the salty scent of the coastal air, the kind of salt that permeated anyone who stayed there for long, that rusted inadequately processed metal and eroded the wood of abandoned ships. There were people in this world who instead lived with cool mountain air, or the hot dry wind of the desert. But it was the most people by far who lived with the salt of the sea in their nostrils.

Entering into the port town proper, Urvashi lowered her posture slightly, trying to look relaxed. Were it not for her collection of...eccentric features, she would be able to pass as a local. However, the thick metal gauntlets with faintly glowing cuffs and her scaly, bare feet made that quite impossible. Still, it wasn't like she was some kind of freakshow. One in ten people here seemed to carry some kind of bestial feature, and perhaps one in a hundred had some level of chrome on them.

Speaking of which...

"I'm telling you, you won't haggle me or any other merchant in this damn market down any lower than this! You're getting vegetables that's worth more than the Belly you're paying for it!"

As a local merchant argued with a difficult customer, Urvashi took the opportunity to strike. Her tail lashed out like the tentacle of an octopus, discreetly whipping a few objects into the air. She held her hand out, and a not-quite-ripe tomato, a bulb of garlic, and a hunk of cheese fell into her broad palm. She did not try to close her fingers to hold her ill-gotten gains better: she wasn't a fan of tomato cheese puree.

"Here ya go. Aren't I just the best, getting you a snack like this?" She raised her hand, offering the purloined cheese to Aya. The piece of curdled milk and fat was forlorn but substantial, about the size of a baseball after so many other slices had been cut from it.

Despite the general acuity of her senses, Urvashi had just yet to notice the steel sentinel that had begun to move...

Traveler

 

[Traveler]

Aya Thorn​

Newer pastures, brighter futures?


Direct Mentions: Japanime Nellancholy
​

---

Aya scoffed slightly at the command given to her, it had been a good year or so since she had been in a position under a higher ranked individual. It didn't feel right.

"Can do, boss." She said, her voice gravelly and her throat raspy, the sound of a person who had just woken up. Which, truth be told, she just had.
Truth be told, unlike most of the crew, Aya would easily have been lost amongst the rest, as she had cooped herself up in the crows nest since they left. With a bottle, alone.

Aya was no doubt a last minute grab amongst the crew, dressed in worn down garb, covered in spills and dirt. She looked homeless.
Add on her deep eyebags and messy, short cut hair which no doubt had been done on her own. It really sold the energy of someone down on their luck.
But what she lacked in personal appeal, she made up for in other terms. She was bulky enough to have visible muscle, and the chrome on her metal arm stood out.
Anyone on the seas could make use of a stronger sailor, and the meaty gun on her hip spoke of potential skill as a shot.
Or perhaps she'd just made some bad financial decisions, guns of that caliber are expensive.

Beyond the essentials, name switches, role assigning and the like, Aya had yet to fully speak to the whole crew.
So now that they'd finally reached an island, and been assigned teams, she found herself a bit uncomfortable with making small talk.
Luckily she didn't need to, her partner spoke out first.

"Cheese?" She coughed, the words coming out more like a gurgled mess. She'd stop for a moment to clear her throat with a loud raspy cough, before looking back up.
"I'll take it. At least it ain't anythin' fancy." She shot a quick toothy grin at the end of her sentence, to signify that was supposed to be irony.
Her face quickly fell back down to her resting bitch face, the smirk did not last long.
Jokes or not, Aya was starving, and still plagued with a hangover from last night, so any food would go great.
Reaching out her right arm, the non mechanical one, she'd grab hold of the cheese and quickly take one big bite out of it.
She'd check with her mouth half open, not enough to make a mess, but enough to lack table manners.

Aya would grimace slightly at the taste, even if you like cheese, taking a bite out of a block wouldn't taste great.
Then again, she was too hungry and her headache was too annoying to fully care.
That, and the realization that she was still here for a reason. Some part of her still remembered how to do her job.
She'd slide in close to Urvashi, muttering something under her breath, before scurrying into the shade of a building.
"Hey snake girl, uh.. I forgot your name. Cover for me for a moment."

Aya would raise her left mechanical arm slightly, four round "nubs" stuck out on the bottom.
With a hiss of steam, they would rise from the metal bottom, extending out into longer tubes.
With a *fwip* they'd shoot up into the air, and mechanically reshape, forming into four small insectoid drones.
Drones which would quickly flutter into the air, as Aya produced a pair of glasses, or, more like one long strap of glass that'd go over the eyes.
"I'll keep an eye of the port from above. Make sure nothing happens to my drones."​

 

[Jigajig]

Hawthorn Winter​

Hawthorn stood at the helm of The Paradox as it sliced through the open sea, gliding gracefully through the waves. The winds were at their back, the sails open as they made their way towards Rustport. He scanned the area and port ahead, his eyes sweeping across. Something seemed... strange. He knew that Rustport was meant to be a slightly "Down on it's luck" type of place, slightly shabby but with a old charm type of feel.. Looking at it now however.. it looked new.. fresh. "How most peculiar.." Hawthorn's gaze shifted from Rustport to Rorik, who stood at the bow of the ship before calling out to the crew. He listened to their captain give a quick run down of the plan. Basically get in, get supplies and get out.

Hawthorn slowly brought the ship into port, docking it and then set the anchor so it wouldn't go anywhere. Strolling down to the deck he glanced about at the other crew members, before he was paired with Demetria on getting supplies. His gaze shifted to the Navigator, looking them up and down. What a truly stupendous pairing this would be. His eyes gleamed from behind his mask which seemed to be grinning currently. "Supplies for the ship! Righto Cap E Tan!" He strolled down the gangplank onto solid ground and glanced about, flicking a playing card that had magically appeared in his left hand to his right and vice versa. Upon looking around he noticed some people in the distance. They seemed to move in unison, their movments.. off putting. His head slowly twisted at a 90 degree angle as he watched them walk away. "Hmm.."

He shrugged it off before turning to his partner in crime Demetria, pocketing the card and leaning towards her slightly. "Well then, shall we?" He sweeped his hand from his left side to his right side, offering her to take the lead if she wanted to. "Let us see what delights we can find yes?"

PlusUltra

 

[s u n f l o w e r]

Lotti & Leni Fontaine
Interactions - snurge and Japanime
Mentions - N/A
​

Lotti and Leni stood side by side, mirroring each other so perfectly it was almost unnatural. Arms folded. Eyes half-lidded. Unbothered by the salty breeze that sent stray strands of honey-blonde hair fluttering. Their deadpan expressions remained utterly unchanged as Rorik gave his orders.

When he turned to them, the twins only blinked in eerie unison.

"Understood," Lotti said.

"We will acquire the necessary materials," Leni added.

Then Rorik turned his gaze to Enoli, and the shapeshifter’s reaction was immediate. A scoff. A muttered retort. A swift departure down the gangplank.

The twins did not react. At least, not outwardly.

As Enoli stalked past, Lotti and Leni pivoted in perfect sync, falling into step behind them without a word. Their strides matched down to the millisecond, their movements eerily fluid. Like a reflection walking beside itself.

It wasn’t long before the trio reached the market.

Enoli stopped, casting a glance over the pristine, uniform buildings. The bright banners. The neatly arranged stalls. The ever-present insignias of the World Government staring back like silent sentinels.

Lotti and Leni stopped, too.

They were still. Unblinking.

Then...

"This place is..."

"...wrong."

Their voices layered over each other, finishing a single thought in two halves.

Their gazes swept the market, taking in the too-clean streets, the oddly synchronized way the merchants called out to passing customers, the overly perfect condition of the wares. Something was off.

"Rebuilt too quickly."

"Too efficiently."

Lotti reached into her pocket, producing a small, self-made artifact scanner. A compact device covered in wires, gears, and tiny dials. She flicked it on, its glass lens glowing faintly as it hummed to life.

Leni’s fingers drummed against her arm. "These materials..."

"...do not match Rustport’s previous architecture."

"Government-funded reconstruction."

"Likely AI-supervised."

They turned their heads toward Enoli, their bright green eyes eerily sharp despite their blank faces.

"Not our problem," Lotti stated.

"Yet," Leni added.

A beat of silence.

Then, as if nothing had happened, Lotti tucked the scanner away.

"Ship parts first," she decided.

"Documents second," Leni agreed.

They turned in unison, already walking.

Enoli would follow.

Probably, hopefully.

 

[snurge]

s u n f l o w e r

Enoli paused to listen to the twins, and they purse their lips, nodding. It’s nice to at least know there are two other people picking up on the strange happenings of the tow. Enoli shifted from foot to foot, a furrow forming between their brows as they watched merchants move in stiff, unnatural ways.

“It is strange, isn’t it?” Enoli mumbles, almost to themself. “Too pristine. Feels fake.” They cast a sidelong glance at the twins, and then, because they can’t help themself, they tack on – “The merchants remind me of you two.” It’s a bit of a barb, though spoken like a casual observation. Though they shuffled closer when Lotti (Even if Enoli didn’t understand much about the twins and found them unsettling, they had been quick to memorize which was which) pulled out what Enoli could understand as a strange little… thingamajig. They leered over the pair, watching the scanner work, and jolted in slight surprise when four eerie, green eyes turned their way.

“I certainly hope it’s not our problem,” Enoli grouched, making a soft tsk sound as they straightened their posture and took a step back. “If this place is AI-Supervised, it’ll make it harder to steal stuff, right?” They followed closely behind the twins, head on a swivel, now alert and slightly paranoid at the notion of being watched or tracked. They didn’t know too much about AI or how it worked or was used, so they were hoping Lotti and Leni could help fill in some of the details. "You two are gonna have to help me scope out what is and isn't safe, 'kay? I'm appointing you as the brains of this operation."

 

[PlusUltra]

Demetria was staring out to sea as the minor blip of land steadily became closer, slouched in a cheap plastic chair that had long since been bleached white by the constant sunlight. A fist propped up their cheek, her gaze unblinking while sitting in silence just as the captain made his orders known.

"none of you can magically conjure fresh water or food outta thin air." her eye slowly slid across to stare blankly at him before finally rising to her feet in silence, collecting her weapons to holster at her side. Unsheathing one, the metal glowed with a familiar red haze, bringing it to her face to light a cigarette before returning it and moving to join the rest on the dock.

---

As she strolled through the town, her hand would come out to rest on one wall, inspecting it, a faint tilt of her head slightly before turning to the people coming and going with something passing for mild interest. "Curious, to move precisely, antithetical with the common rabble...well-drilled until each forwent individuality? hmm...no, they lack the makings of a former military regime and go beyond it. The question falls to what this facade is concealing".

Looking back to her companion she would set him with a long stare, before heading onwards once more with a casual gait "We will proceed regardless of what this place holds, the logistics of our journey necessitates nothing less"

 

[Sinny The Fool]

EVAL "DAREDEVIL" KNIEVAL
---
Interactions: Japanime BarnaB
Mentions / Around: PlusUltra Traveler s u n f l o w e r snurge Jigajig Nellancholy
---

Finally, at last! There was land...

Val wasn't sure just how much longer he could withstand the nonsense that was floating on a massive hunk of wood and metal. In spite of all his years at sea, he still wasn't use to the idea of using ships as a mode of transportation, nor could he wrap his head around the logistics behind how it all worked. In particular the Paradox felt strange, it wasn't like the other boats he had sailed on so far. Something about it was different - almost like it was somehow alive. Val didn't trust that one bit.

All that is to say, he hated ships! Which is really not an ideal trait for a pirate, but Val accepted that as a sacrifice he had to make for the greater good. But he was excited at the prospect of finally setting foot back onto sweet, solid earth! He eagerly followed the lead of his Captain as the crew set foot on the island.

As they stepped onto solid ground, Rorik started assigning tasks.

"Demetria, Hawthorn, you’re on ship supplies. We need fresh water, rations, and if we can afford it, rum. Try not to get swindled."

He turned to the twins and Enoli. "Check out the market. If you find maps, logbooks, or rare ship parts, grab ‘em. Just..." he shot a look at the Enoli, "...don’t steal anything unless you’re sure you won’t get caught."

Rorik exhaled sharply but moved on. "Aya, Urvashi, you two keep an eye out. If anything seems weird, let me know before it’s our problem."

Lastly, he turned to Eval and Tsogo. "Find the best food Rustport has. I don’t care what it costs, just make sure it’s edible."

With a smirk, Rorik dusted off his hands. "And me? I’ll be checking out the shipwrights. The Paradox is still a mystery, and I’d rather not let her fall apart under us."

With their assignments clear, the crew would split up, disappearing into the streets of Rustport.

"Easy enough, consider it done Cap'n!" Val said while placing both hands behind the back of his head, before turning to to meet Tsogos gaze. Shopping for produce wouldn't have been his first choice of assignment, but right now Val was happy to do anything that involved stepping on solid ground.

He wondered if Rustport had good coffee.

If he couldn’t provide food by fishing, he was going to take the prospect of providing food by shopping very seriously even if buying food was a bit of a foreign concept to the big fishman. He’d turn to the first mate as they got ready to head into town. "So we've gotta track down the best" Tsogo would make his first comment while clapping his hands together seemingly excited for the prospect.

Val gave Tsogo the thumbs up in response, adding "Yup, we gotta track down the best! So I'll be relying on your expertise!" attempting to play it off cool "Lead the way, Tsogo!" he chanted and followed shortly behind the giant fishman

“Let’s see what kind of fish market this place has got” he’d suggest pointing to the town in an attempt to start with something he knew well, instead of the more strange to him, dry land food. As they stood on the dock Tsogo first started to really consider the town. The state of the place was not completely lost on him. He was used to the disarray of the fishman district on Fishman Island, this seemed like a step up from that strangely enough. He guessed the surface had some higher standards for how they ran things.

Val nodded in confirmation, his hands still resting behind the back of his head "You know best! Let's go see what they have for us, aye?" he added as they approached Rustports fishmarket. Val took a look around, nodding along at each of the stalls until finally reaching a very simple conclusion: he had absolutely NO IDEA WHAT HE WAS DOING!!!

But he kept his cool, and maintained the facade of someone who at least had SOME idea about food. He pointed to one of the stalls "Ah, yes, the fragrant scent from that way is good. Must be high quality." he said in a dubious tone, he was simply making things up as he went along in the hopes that he'd sound like he knows what he was talking about. However it was likely obvious to someone as knowledgeable as Tsogo that Val had no clue what he was talking about.

 

[s u n f l o w e r]

Lotti & Leni Fontaine
Interactions - snurge
Mentions - N/A
​

Lotti and Leni did not react immediately.

Not to the observation. Not to the comparison. Not to the implied insult.

They simply walked.

Then, after several paces...

"We lack the rigidity."

"We are far more fluid."

No offense taken. Just a factual correction.

Still, there was something almost amused in the slight tilt of Lotti’s head, the way Leni’s fingers briefly tapped against her hip. Almost.

They continued weaving through the marketplace. The shapeshifter’s growing paranoia was warranted.

"AI oversight does complicate theft."

"But not impossibly so."

A moment later, Lotti withdrew the scanner again, adjusting a few dials with deft precision. The lens pulsed faintly, distorting the air around it before stabilizing.

Leni, without looking, spoke to Enoli’s concern.

"Basic AI surveillance operates in three forms..."

"Visual tracking, auditory monitoring, and predictive pattern recognition."

"Not sentient."

"But persistent."

The scanner let out a low beep. Lotti’s eyes flickered over the readout.

"Camera placements are well-hidden."

"Audio feeds are centralized."

"The predictability of the town’s layout suggests automated behavior enforcement."

Lotti and Leni stopped at once.

Then, in eerie unison, they turned their heads, fixing Enoli with identical, unreadable expressions. The thought just occurred to them that Enoli may have no idea what they're talking about. So they decided to simplify.

"Steal unpredictably."

"Move erratically."

"Do not be predictable."

A beat of silence.

Then, smoothly, they continued forward.

"Brain assignment accepted," Lotti said.

"Follow accordingly," Leni added.

They had a job to do.

 

[Nellancholy]

As Aya partook of the cheese, Urvashi pursed her lips in bemusement, blowing her breath out in a gesture that would have sounded like a whistle coming from a human mouth, but here made a distinctive hissing noise, her tongue flickering out again and exposing her more to the abundant, clashing scents of the market. Humans prided themselves on the variations in their nature, and yet few had the same tastes as the naga.

With that taken care of, it was Aya who took the initiative to get to work. Urvashi's eyes widened in appreciation (and just a little bit of envy) as Aya engaged her arm, preparing to send out her drones. If she had not been enslaved...if she had not been made into a weapon, would she have had something like that? Would she want to? She would never know. After all, she was now stuck with these heavy annoyances for life. But she couldn't deny, the Wisps were useful sometimes...

With a dismissive comment, Aya sent out the drones, establishing an area of surveillance above the market.

"It's Urvashi, you cow." Even that was delivered with a toothy smile. "If you think I look anything like a snake, those eyes of yours need work too." With that, she formed her hands into hooks of a sort, her fingers bending at the first joint. Just like that, they were able to grasp onto the rugged stone of a nearby building, and combined with her clawed legs, Urvashi was able to easily click click click her way onto the roof.

As one of Aya's insectoid drones flew by, Urvashi reached out, flicking it with her thick finger and sending it spinning for a moment to her own satisfied chuckle.

But then, something more urgent caught her eye. A couple of the steel sentinels patrolling the city were on the move. Purposefully, seeming to converge at the docks. They weren't just on patrol. They were searching for someone or something...or heading towards something they already knew the location of.

"Look! Those tin cans, do you think they're onto us?"

Traveler

 

[snurge]

s u n f l o w e r

Well – credit where credit is due, the twins weren’t wrong there. They moved in tandem, which was disorienting, but the movements were thoughtful and graceful. Enoli tsked in slight defeat as they continued to walk just a few short paces behind the pair. “I guess you have a point,” they admitted. “You two are a… more well-oiled machine, then.”

They pursed their lips and scratched idly at their jaw as they listened to Leni and Lotti’s assessment of the AI surveillance in the port. All this tracking and monitoring… Enoli had to put real effort into appearing casual and curious instead of shifty and twitchy. Cameras were always tough, but could usually be circumvented with a chain of shapeshifting. Enoli had a roster of faces they had picked up off the street and memorized – a dozen or so pedestrians who they could pretend to be just long enough to swipe something. So long as they were considerate of timing and sequencing.

Lost in thought, the kitsune nearly bumped into the backs of the twins as the two suddenly stopped, and they snapped to attention when pinned in place by dual gazes. So, unpredictability was the name of the game. Interesting. They’d have to be selective, then. Or, maybe, best case scenario, everything the three would find would be such a fair price that nobody would have to steal anything at all. It was good to be prepared though.

So, quietly indexing the advice given to them, Enoli nodded to themself and continued to follow.

 

[Jigajig]

Hawthorn's gaze shifted to Demetria as she spoke, his eyes flitting to various things from behind the mask as he contemplated her words. "It certainly is most... incongruous. The Rustport I knew of was nothing like this.. it's too.. clean, too perfect." His eyes shifted to the World Government-certified signage upon some of the buidings. "We need to be careful to say the least. It looks like the World Government have made their mark upon this place.." Hawthorn followed on beside his companion contemplating the peculiarity of it all before speaking once again.

"What supplies should we look for first? We require fresh water and rations. Also rum if we can find any according to the Captain." His mask shifted slightly as he rubbed his chin. "Perhaps ammunition as well if we can find some. Cannonballs and the like.. it pays to have a full armoury and not be caught short. Better to have too much than to little at a moments notice."

PlusUltra

 

[Japanime]

Jigajig PlusUltra



A commotion started up near the duo. A fisherman, his face gaunt with hunger, stood before an official clad in crisp, spotless blue. His hands trembled as he offered up his meager catch, the last of what he had. The official didn’t touch the fish. Didn’t even look at it.

A mechanical lens clicked over his right eye. A thin, metallic voice hummed:

“Subpar. Noncompliant.”

A heavy clang rang out as a nearby guard slammed his baton against a crate. The fisherman flinched, though he did not argue.

The official turned away, already moving on. The fish, his food, was seized and thrown into a disposal bin.

A waste chute.

The fisherman’s lip quivered, his hands curling into useless fists. His stomach growled loud enough to be heard over the waves.

But the line behind him remained silent.

The workers did not step forward.

They did not fight.

Because here, fighting was punished.

---

Nellancholy Traveler



The two crewmates would be near a factory district. The sound of industry was deafening. Metal against metal, gears grinding, steam hissing from rust-locked pipes. People filed into their shifts, sleeves rolled up to expose the pulsing implants embedded into their wrists.

Each step forward. Each wrist scanned. Each person permitted to work another day.

Until…

BZZT. ERROR.

A thin, ragged man at the front of the line stiffened. His implant flickered red. The guards responded instantly.

No questions. No hesitation.

A baton cracked across his ribs before he could so much as breathe.

He collapsed.

Another blow struck his back.

Then his side.

He gasped, choked on blood, but no one moved to help.

The workers stared straight ahead, lips pressed together, hands clenched at their sides. They did not react, did not flinch.

Don’t look.

Don’t interfere.

The man groaned as a boot pressed down on his shoulder, shoving him flat against the filthy steel floor.

The scanner beeped again.

“Defective.”

And then they dragged him away.

---

Sinny The Fool BarnaB



On their way to the fish-market, the two would pass the market square. Food lined the stalls. Golden bread, ripe fruit, meats still steaming from the grill. Spices curled into the air, teasing the noses of passersby.

But the best goods weren’t for everyone.

The baker, a thick man with flour dusting his apron, laughed as he handed off a crate of supplies, salt, fine wine, to a government official. A deal struck.

A child, small, barely skin and bone, watched with wide, starving eyes.

Slowly, hesitantly, the child stepped forward, reaching…

A baton slammed against the ground with a crack.

The child froze.

The guard didn’t speak. He didn’t have to.

The warning was clear.

The baker’s smile did not waver. He did not acknowledge the child at all.

Without a word, the little one shrank back into the crowd, eyes downcast, stomach empty.

The guard smirked.

The official took his crate of luxuries.

And the baker kept smiling.

---

s u n f l o w e r snurge



At the market, the twins had been discussing AI oversight with Enoli when something shifted.

A merchant, mid-transaction, froze.

For a second, they stood unnaturally still, their fingers hovering over a stack of coins. Their eyes flickered, vacant, distant, before they suddenly resumed, voice stilted, mechanical.

Then, another freeze. A nearby dockworker this time, in the middle of hammering a crate shut. A brief, unnatural pause. Before the motion resumed, stiff, robotic.

---

Rorik



Rorik had spent most of his time at the shipwrights, bartering for parts. But as he leaned against a supply crate, arms crossed, he noticed something strange.

A woman sat at a bench, carving a tiny symbol into the wood. A crude, hastily scratched sigil, a broken gear.

Rorik wasn’t an idiot. It looked like some type of resistance symbol.

Their eyes met for half a second. The woman’s breath hitched. Then she looked away, quickly covering the carving with her sleeve.

Rorik’s smirk was gone.

“What the hell,” he muttered under his breath.

 

[BarnaB]

Tsogo Del Reaf

Mentions: Sinny The Fool Japanime​

As they entered the markets and Eval made his comment about smelling something good the fishman gave a deep laugh. “Well if you think it smells nice it probably isn’t fresh fish” the joke was good natured in tone as he followed his nose and Eval's direction to the bakery and eyed over the bread from a short distance. “Bread’ll be good; if we can find some that’ll keep” Tsogo spoke and held up his fingers as he took stock of the market and tried to lay down his knowhow since he picked up that the first mate might be out of their element.

“We found bread, gotta pick out meats and fruit, we’ll definitely” Tsogo’s list was cut off by the scene near the bakery and the big fish man stopped mid-sentence. It was a sickeningly different take on a familiar scene, it was hard to imagine someone going hungry around so much food but here it was the strangeness of the surface striking again. The familiar sight prompted a familiar response. Instinctively his arm went for the anchor on his hip but he stopped himself before his hand went all the way down his torso.

Damnit, he promised the captain, he had to at least try to not cause trouble.

A random brawl wouldn’t help anyone anyway.

Tsogo gave a deep breath to collect himself and made a mantra to focus on the job “best food, get the best food.” It looked like someone was already getting the best food… but it’d be trouble to go get it now.

“Was I making a list?” He turned to Eval trying to change the subject on his mind.

 

[Traveler]

Aya Thorn​

Newer pastures, brighter futures?


Direct Mentions: Japanime Nellancholy
​

---

"Yeah yeah.. You get what i mean, i ain't good with names." Aya splurts out, as Urvashi corrects her on her.. well.. frankly insensitive comment.
Aya wasn't racist, but she was the type to refer to people by their key-features. This was not the first time she'd been misunderstood.
Although, the reaction could have been worse. She pondered for a moment on whether she should apologize.
...
Nah. She didn't feel like it was deserves.

Her thoughts on apology quickly disappeared as Urvashi flicked her drone, sending it twirling through the air.
Aya held a hand on her forehead, feeling a bit dizzy. Fast movements did not pair well with a hangover.
"Hey! Settle down up there! This is sensitive tech!"
An outright lie. She'd literally shot those drones and not left a dent.
Hell. That's literally what they were designed for.
The comment just slipped into her mind.

One of her four drones would fly along the rooftops, out towards the shores, gazing over the done activity pointed out by Urvashi.
"Not hostile, yet... but fuck..." She said as she got a closer look at the sentinels.
"Sure is heavy duty stuff." She muttered under her breath, as she moved her other drones over the district.

Soon, a commotion broke out a block or so down, a man was being beated down for being "defective".
"That's odd.." Aya muttered out loud. "Hey. Urvashi." She'd snap her fingers like an impatient person at a diner.
"Activity at 4 'o clock, guy just got taken out for being defective."
"They seem to have a system or sumn', we shouldn't make a scene and stand out, especially not with these sentinels around."​

 

[Nellancholy]

Urvashi had not in fact been in Rustport until now, but all things considered it was very impressive to her how well the biroids and other technology had been integrated into Rustport. If only...if only the people here had been given the freedom to choose this, instead of having it being forced upon them...the machinery in the area clanged, hummed, and hissed, almost like an emerging form of life of its own. It was nothing like the silence of the labs, broken up only by screams of pain and the sounds of weapons, allowing the prisoners to speak and plot only in the slightest whispers, for any greater sound would lead to them being heard, whether they intended it or not.

Just then, a commotion broke out in the street below, a scene that must have played out many times since the occupation of Rustport. A commotion that would be shocking to an outsider, but that the locals seemed to have resigned themselves to, beneath the veneer of normality. They had long since abandoned the will to fight, in favor of their own livelihoods. And why wouldn't they? As long as one kept their head down, stayed quiet, and put in the work, one could live a pretty decent life...

At least, until you showed up as "defective", whatever that meant. And then got hauled off to who knows where...

Aya, for her part, counseled caution.

What kind of person was she, really...? Perhaps some kind of soldier. The kind of person who would bide their time to strike, or forgo a fight altogether. Class some things as acceptable losses, and others not. Urvashi could understand the idea. After her escape, she had to live as a survivor. A scavenger. A thief. Putting one's life above all else for the sake of seeing another day.

But this moment...seemed a turning point of sorts. Aya might have come to a certain conclusion, but Urvashi simply couldn't see it that way. Perhaps she simply wasn't the type to stand by helplessly, like she was before...if she had joined the fight the day the lab was destroyed, would more people have been saved?

"Heh, is that why you have that gun of yours? NOT to pull the trigger when it'd help someone?" Urvashi hid her own offense at the situation. After all, Aya's position probably seemed quite sensible from a different point of view, and she couldn't conceivably have expected to needle Urvashi in that way. "I'm no dancer, but if this makes a scene, then..." Backing up to the edge of the roof, Urvashi broke into a sprint, her tail snapping on the roof with a distinct SMACK as she launched into the air.

As one of the guards made to drag the "defective" worker away, a mechanical fist slammed into their head with the force of a sledgehammer. Denting it, turning the insides to paste, whatever the consequences were, Urvashi couldn't care.

Her claws scratching the ground as she landed, Urvashi clenched her other fist, the bracelet holding it in place glowing with a jade light. She let the sensation wash over her for a split second, the feeling of a pliant, ethereal appendage reaching into the air in front of her. And then she reached out and opened her hand, sweeping it like she was shooing away a fly. A cluster of Wisp lashed out, toppling a nearby stack of crates and flattening another guard under them.

Turning to the "condemned" worker, she grabbed him with her free hand, hauling him to his feet in a way that was perhaps more menacing than she intended. "Hey, looks like your lucky star is here. Can ya walk?" For better or worse, she was momentarily oblivious to any surviving guards or other threats in the area...

Traveler Japanime

 

[s u n f l o w e r]

Lotti & Leni Fontaine
Mentions - N/A
Interactions - Japanime snurge
​

Lotti and Leni’s heads tilted in eerie unison, their sharp green eyes locking onto the merchant as the glitch, because that’s what it had to be, played out before them. The flicker in his gaze, the frozen joints, the mechanical resumption of movement… They had seen it before.

Not just here. Not just Rustport.

But everywhere the World Government’s hand had reached too deep.

Enoli might have been the first to notice the unnatural precision of the town, but the twins had been cataloging anomalies from the moment they stepped foot onto the docks. The way people’s steps synced when they walked down main roads. The way the laborers never slouched, never paused to wipe sweat from their brows. The eerie silence between transactions, no idle chatter, no bargaining. Too clean. Too controlled.

This, though? This was confirmation.

“Malfunction,” Lotti murmured, her fingers tightening around the scanner in her palm.

“Not a common one,” Leni added, brow furrowing as she tapped the screen, recalibrating the device with a flick of her wrist. “Either this model is outdated, or it’s being pushed past its limits.”

“Would explain the sloppiness.”

Lotti and Leni exchanged a glance. It lasted less than a second, a silent relay of data between two synchronized minds.

“They’re real,” Lotti confirmed.

“But they’re not in control,” Leni finished.

The scanner beeped softly in her hand, a thin red pulse running along its edges. Readings flooded across the screen, neural signals, fluctuating, interrupted. Suppressed. Intermittent spikes where autonomy should be. These weren’t just surveillance markers.

They were overrides.

“AI-assisted cognitive regulation,” Lotti said.

“A leash on free will,” Leni clarified.

The marketplace continued as if nothing was wrong. The merchant’s fingers, now steady, pushed the coins into his register. The dockworker swung his hammer in rhythmic succession. Others around them continued their tasks, their routines unbroken.

But now? Now the cracks were visible.

“This place is not entirely filled with people being piloted,” Lotti said.

“But enough to keep the others in line,” Leni added.

The twins turned their gazes back to the market, silent calculations running behind sharp, unreadable eyes. Their hands twitched, the urge to record, to understand, nearly overwhelming. This was beyond simple surveillance. This was control. Direct and invasive. The AI wasn’t just watching Rustport. It was holding it in its grip.

But if the system was straining, if the malfunctions were increasing...

Lotti’s fingers brushed over the dial on her scanner.

“How easy do you think it would be…” she mused.

“…to break it?” Leni finished.

Lotti adjusted the scanner in her grip, tapping through layers of data with methodical precision. “There’s a pattern.”

Leni was already following her train of thought. “Synchronization points. Moments when control lapses.”

“Not perfect.”

“Vulnerable.”

And in that shared realization, an idea was born. A thought so sharp, so immediate, that it sent a shiver of static between them. Because if there was one thing Lotti and Leni knew, it was how to exploit vulnerabilities.

They exchanged a glance. Silent, but full of intent.

A test. A push.

A break.

Lotti shifted, her gaze sweeping the market. A fruit stand stacked high with wares. A display too precise, too carefully aligned. Perfect symmetry. Controlled.

Leni’s fingers flexed. The twin instincts sharpened in unison.

A single, calculated move.

The scanner in Lotti’s hand flickered. One tap, one pulse of interference, aimed at the synchronization field hovering unseen over the market. It wasn’t strong enough to do real damage, but it didn’t have to be.

Just enough to send a ripple.

At the exact same moment, Leni brushed past the fruit stand, seemingly accidental, a slight bump, just enough force to send a precariously placed basket of apples tumbling to the ground.

Red spheres hit the cobblestone. One. Two. Ten. Rolling, bouncing, scattering underfoot.

It was a small disruption.

But in a system built on rigid control, even the smallest flaw could potentially send a fault line cracking through its foundation.

 

[Sinny The Fool]

---
Location: Rustport - Market Square
Interactions: Japanime BarnaB
Mentions / Around: N/A
---​

An abundance of food lined the stalls and shelves of the market, offering an impressive variety.

With this much, nobody would have to go hungry! Val thought to himself

There was so much available he just had one problem, how was he supposed to know what to pick!?!

On their way to the fish-market, the two would pass the market square. Food lined the stalls. Golden bread, ripe fruit, meats still steaming from the grill. Spices curled into the air, teasing the noses of passersby.

As they entered the markets and Eval made his comment about smelling something good the fishman gave a deep laugh. “Well if you think it smells nice it probably isn’t fresh fish” the joke was good natured in tone as he followed his nose and Eval's direction to the bakery and eyed over the bread from a short distance. “Bread’ll be good; if we can find some that’ll keep” Tsogo spoke and held up his fingers as he took stock of the market and tried to lay down his knowhow since he picked up that the first mate might be out of their element.

Ahh, I think I'm busted...Val mentally noted as he nervously laughed out loud while rubbing the scruff of his neck "Hah! Yeah you got me, bread it is!" he agreed and put his trust in the know-how of their crew chef.

“We found bread, gotta pick out meats and fruit, we’ll definitely” Tsogo’s list was cut off by the scene near the bakery and the big fish man stopped mid-sentence.

But the best goods weren’t for everyone.

The baker, a thick man with flour dusting his apron, laughed as he handed off a crate of supplies, salt, fine wine, to a government official. A deal struck.

A child, small, barely skin and bone, watched with wide, starving eyes.

Slowly, hesitantly, the child stepped forward, reaching…

A baton slammed against the ground with a crack.

The child froze.

The guard didn’t speak. He didn’t have to.

The warning was clear.

The baker’s smile did not waver. He did not acknowledge the child at all.

Without a word, the little one shrank back into the crowd, eyes downcast, stomach empty.

The guard smirked.

The official took his crate of luxuries.

And the baker kept smiling.

Val was listening intently until Tsogo stopped midway through his grocery-list as he noticed an unfolding scene by the bakery.

It was a scene all too familiar for Val, and he safely assumed that it was the same way for Tsogo.

Bosozoku Kingdom was rife with scenes like this. An all too familiar sight especially in nations where resources were the most abundant. Val despised people like them, but he simply gritted his teeth and played out a quick mental fantasy of burying the baker underground in a steel box before moving on from the scene. They made a promise to their Captain after all, and as first mate Val felt responsible for setting an example by keeping that promise. There was just one problem - the nagging echo of his late brothers voice pressuring him to act.

But there was a part of him, and the voice of his brother in the back of his mind urging him to do something about it.
"You just gonna let em' get away with that Vally? Come on, mate! SHOW EM WHAT YER MADE OF!!!" shouted the mental echo of his late brother's voice.
He hushed the voice of Knieval in the back of his mind the best he could, but it continued to prod at his subconscious.

It was a sickeningly different take on a familiar scene, it was hard to imagine someone going hungry around so much food but here it was the strangeness of the surface striking again. The familiar sight prompted a familiar response. Instinctively his arm went for the anchor on his hip but he stopped himself before his hand went all the way down his torso.​

Damnit, he promised the captain, he had to at least try to not cause trouble.

A random brawl wouldn’t help anyone anyway.

Tsogo gave a deep breath to collect himself and made a mantra to focus on the job “best food, get the best food.” It looked like someone was already getting the best food… but it’d be trouble to go get it now.

“Was I making a list?” He turned to Eval trying to change the subject on his mind.

Val's eyes continued to linger on the boy as he shrank away back into the bustling crowd of the market square, and then his attention squared onto the official carrying the crate of goods away. One day the world is going to change.

He noticed Tsogo's response to the situation, which confirmed his assumptions about Tsogo's perspective on the scene. He was empathetic to Tsogo's current plight, as he was currently undergoing the same emotions.

He slowly nodded, his eyes fixed on the position of the official "Uhuh, yeah yeah..." he blurted, clearly not really paying attention as he was suddenly having an idea "Oi... I wonder where he plans on taking those supplies?" suddenly a mischievous grin stretched across Val's cheeks and he turned to face Tsogo "Reckon we should go take a look?" his tone said he was just curious, but the flare in his eyes told a much different story "Cap did say he wants the best, right?" he nudged Tsogo with that last sentence, clearly looking for vocal support.

 

[snurge]

s u n f l o w e r

Enoli cast a side-eye glance at the stuttering movements of the merchant, and a frown tugged at their lips just slightly, fingers twitching in their deep coat pockets. Odd. This whole place was far too odd, and they almost wanted to scamper back to the ship and set out back to sea. But, captain’s orders. They had a job to do. Enoli’s long, black fox ears twitched, then swiveled, monitoring both the twin’s chattering and the happenings of the town. The idea of some of these humans being controlled in some way – through an influence like AI… it made Enoli’s gut twist uneasily, and they shifted from foot to mechanical foot.

“A leash on free will.”

The phrasing made Enoli’s tail bush up, fur fluffing in mild alarm. It was just creepy, was all, and they found themself thankful to be out of the grasp of the World Government. They redoubled their efforts in scanning for ship parts, hoping to run these errands as fast as possible; the sooner they could return to The Paradox, the better.

Enoli wrinkled their nose just slightly as Lotti and Leni began to ruminate over breaking the AI. Getting involved seemed… risky. Hard to pull off in such a regulated place. If they caused a disruption, wouldn’t someone be alerted quickly? Enoli didn’t want to meet whoever was in charge of monitoring Rustport. Before they could voice these concerns, however, the twins set their hypothesis into action, and Enoli watched several apples tumble to the ground. It didn’t seem like much at all – just some fiddling with a scanner and an accidental brush with the crate. Well planned, Enoli had to admit, and while they knew this was some intentional scheme of sorts they weren’t really sure what was going on.

They weren’t about to blow any covers though. Enoli closed a hand around the dagger they kept in their coat pocket, taking a deep breath to visibly settle themself. Pretending to give mild interest to the fallen apples and nearby fruit stand, smiling apologetically at the vendor.

“What are you doing?” They murmured to Lotti quietly.

 

[Japanime]

Traveler Nellancholy

Two guards seized the man beneath the arms, his legs dragging uselessly behind him as they hauled him toward a side gate. The line shuffled forward. No hesitation. No questions. If they moved, if they looked, they might be next.

Then, something broke the rhythm. A crash. A sharp, wet impact.

The first guard’s helmet crumpled inward with a sickening crunch. The body convulsed before slumping, limbs twitching in final, broken spasms. The second barely had time to turn before something struck. Something unseen, something forceful. A crate toppled from its perch, burying him beneath shattered wood and loose, rolling parts.

A murmur spread through the workers. Some gasped. Some backed away, glancing over their shoulders, gauging the distance to the nearest exit. Others, those who had seen too many moments like this end the same way, clenched their jaws and turned forward, forcing themselves back into line.

But the nearby sentries had seen.

From the rooftops, from the shadows, two mechanical figures detached from their perches, silent watchers until now. Their human-like bodies shimmered in the dim light, their limbs unfolding with eerie precision. They moved without sound, their glowing eyes locking onto the source of the disruption.

One of them landed hard, its feet striking the steel with a resounding clang. Its arm unfolded into a long, segmented baton crackling with electric charge. The other raised its palm, fingers splitting apart into needle-thin barrels, a soft hum building at their cores.

A voice crackled through a hidden speaker, dispassionate, unyielding.

“Unauthorized intervention detected.”

A third sentinel stepped forward, scanning the fallen guards before tilting its head toward the workers.

“Resume productivity. Failure to comply will result in disciplinary action.”

Some hesitated. Others stepped forward, determined to prove their obedience. One woman, eyes hollow with exhaustion, reached down to lift her fallen coworker’s dropped tools. Her hands trembled.

The sentries did not.

Two surged forward, moving to contain, to subdue, to silence Urvashi. The air was thick with the scent of ozone as their weapons charged.

The line had broken. The gears had jammed.

And Rustport did not tolerate inefficiency.

---

s u n f l o w e r snurge

The apples tumbled from the fruit stand, their fall a series of soft thuds that echoed through the market, each one a deliberate crack in the polished illusion of order. The moment they hit the ground, something shifted. A tension that stretched thin, almost audible, like the tension before a storm.

Lotti’s scanner sent a pulse of interference that radiated outward, a subtle ripple through the market’s hidden controls. But the effect, however small, was profound.

The merchant, still mid-transaction, didn’t freeze this time. His entire posture stiffened, locked in place for an instant. His gaze darted to the fallen apples, his eyes wide, as if something inside him had momentarily flickered, recognizing the disruption but unable to process it fully. His hand wavered, trembling over the coins in the register, before he resumed his actions with a robotic smoothness that didn’t quite match his earlier fluidity.

Nearby, the dockworker’s hammer had been mid-swing, but as the pulse hit, the tool dropped from his hand entirely, clattering to the ground with a noise far too loud for the controlled quiet of the market. His body jerked, his eyes wide and unblinking, not at all in sync with the rest of his surroundings. A split second of disorientation stretched into a full second before his movements resumed, rigid and unnatural. His mouth opened as if to speak, but the words never came. Instead, he continued hammering, the strikes now too fast, too harsh, an erratic rhythm that was completely out of sync with the rest of the workers around him.

A child, holding her mother’s hand, pointed at the overturned fruit, her small voice calling out, “Mama, the apples are moving funny!” Her mother, looking down in confusion, frowned. Her hand tightened around her daughter’s, pulling her close, her attention drifting between the scene unfolding and the other strange figures around them.

Then, it happened.

The nearby sentinels, standing at their usual positions around the market, began to stir. They were always there, silent, vigilant. But now, something was different. Their heads turned almost simultaneously, their eyes scanning the market with unnerving precision. Their bodies, once still, moved in perfect synchronization, pivoting as if cued by some unseen signal. Their hands, once relaxed by their sides, moved to their weapons, their fingers brushing against the hilts with mechanical readiness.

The pulse that had spread through the market from Lotti’s scanner had been faint, but it had triggered something. A disruption too blatant to ignore. Their minds, hardwired to respond to anomalies, had been activated. The crack in the system was noticed. And the sentinels, once passive observers, were now alert, calculating, ready to respond.

---

Rorik

Pushing off from the crate, he straightened, stretching his arms slightly as he strolled toward her with an easy, confident pace. He didn’t make any sudden moves, just kept his steps casual, as if he were strolling past an old friend rather than stepping into something far more complicated.

“Nice day for woodwork,” he called out lightly, his tone full of that easy charm that came so naturally to him. “Hope I’m not interrupting.”

The woman stiffened, but she didn’t look up right away. He could practically hear her thinking, weighing her options. Whether to keep up the pretense or acknowledge the truth. He’d seen it in people before: the moment they knew they were caught, but still hesitated. And Rorik wasn’t about to rush things.

“I have to admit, I’m not much of a woodworker myself,” he continued, sliding into a half-smile, his voice dropping just enough to carry a hint of curiosity. “But that symbol? You don’t carve that sort of thing without knowing it’ll catch someone’s eye.”

She finally met his gaze, and Rorik could see the wariness behind her eyes. That was fine. He wasn’t asking for trust. He was just asking for a story.

“Careful where you carve your allegiances,” he added with a wry grin, tilting his head slightly, like someone who had all the time in the world to see how things played out.

There was a beat of silence before she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m not the one you should be worried about.”

Rorik’s smile widened ever so slightly. “Maybe not. But I’m the one talking to you,” he said, his voice smooth, disarming. “So, what’s your game? Or is it just some hobby?”

He wasn’t pushing. Not yet. But he knew how to use words. How to coax, how to gently nudge. And he was betting that the right question, asked the right way, would get her talking. Maybe she had answers. Or maybe she was just another cog in the wheel. Either way, Rorik didn’t mind. He was good at this game.

 

[Jigajig]

Hawthorns attention did a full 180 when he heard a loud clang. From behind his mask, his Red eyes narrowed slowly as he took in the sight before him. A fisherman, frail as anything looking emaciated stood before a official, offering up what must have been his catch for the day. The official did not even look at the offering before slamming their baton upon a crate and moving on. The fish, carelessly discarded down waste chute. The smile upon Hawthorns mask slowly turned upside down before setting into a straight line. His gaze sweapt over the line, the people all looking thin, frail, hungry.. Rustport had it's fair share of problems in the past but this.. this was hell on a new scale. His usual carefree demenour had changed along with his posture. His hands slowly curled into fists. Gone was jovial Jester...

He looked at Demetria before his eyes flitted about scanning the surrounding area, weighing up his options. With a slight flick of the wrist a single card appeared betwixt his fingers, which rather peculiarly glinted in the sunlight. Just a small flick would do it.. "I know the Captain said to stay out of trouble and to not cause a fuss however.. I simply cannot stand by and allow this injustice to take place" Thus he proceeded. With a simple movement of his fingers and with an extra "push" the card left his hand at speed, hurting towards the back leg of the official. Specifically the tendon. He wasn't aiming to kill... just make them suffer.

PlusUltra Japanime

 

[Traveler]

Aya Thorn​

Trouble in Paradise.


Direct Mentions: Japanime Nellancholy
Potential Tie-In: Gunshot making a lot of noise, anyone in town would probably hear a pop
​

---

Aya snarled, like a wild animal. Honestly she did portray the vibe of a tired cat at times, maybe there was something to that theory.
"Listen, i ain't against shootin' a fucker. Thing is we were told not to make a scene and keep an eye out."
Aya would look up from her monitor-glasses for a moment, looking up at the clouds as she scratched her head, a look of confusion being planted on her face.
"Come to think of it, how are we supposed to call in to the cap'n if we do see something? Didn't exactly give us a number."

She thought to herself that it's a good thing nothing of too much trouble is happening now.
Wouldn't want to disappoint your captain on the first mission, especially something so easy as playing lookout.
Aya would glance back at the monitor again, just in time to watch the guard crumble.
"Heh.. Look at that, more people pickin' fights. Must have a death wish, right Urvashi?"

Aya would glance to the rooftops, to her friend.
"Urvashi...? Oh for fu--"
Or... Where they used to be.

Well. If it was a fight she wanted, a fight she would get.
Aya watched through her monitor as two sentries, out of sight from the average person made their move.
Suckers, she thought. Who uses classic eye-scanners for recon sentries? Drones are where it's at these days.
Eye-based scanning systems have one easy flaw in them. They can be blocked.
Aya would manouver her drones, as they would begin to slam together in midair, in pairs of two.
The durable yet malleable metal forming "rings" around the heads and in turn eyes of the two sentries.

In the meantime, Aya burst into a sprint towards her ally. Once close, she'd dive for cover behind a box.
"Sentries on your right! Their optics should be down for long enough to make a getaway with the target."
Aya gestured for the defective worker.
"I'll cover you. Get them somewhere safe, then we take the offensive."
She commanded them quickly and sternly, a stark difference to her sassy drunkard state usually.
Aya had definitively seen battle before.
"Guess we're doing things the loud way."

Peaking up from over the box, Aya would grab her massive revolver from her hip.
To call is a beast would be an understatement. This thing packed a punch, no doubt.
She'd quickly take aim, going right for the hyper durable drone barrier around the head of the left sentry.
Aya had her drones engineered to withstand her bullets, but her plan was not to just destroy the thing, she was saving her friend time.
This meant causing further destabilization, she wanted to shake the sentires head around with the impact of the bullet.
Basically using the drone as a bicycle helmet to spread the force evenly all over it's head.
And once she fired one shot at the left one, she'd quickly shift to the right and do the very same there.
The sound of Aya's gun was powerful, birds from all over town would take flight. The sound would reach several nearby districts.
Going silent wasn't an option anymore, and from the look on Aya's face, a slight smirk, she wasn't fully against this.​

 

[BarnaB]

Tsogo Del Reaf

Mentions: Sinny The Fool Japanime ​

Eval’s words brought a toothy grin to Tsogo’s face. “Those were the captain’s exact words if I recall correctly” Tsogo’s took a minute to think. He took a look around the area and let his voice grow quiet, very much aware that he was probably a big attention grabber in this city due to his size and species.

“But we’ve got to try not to cause trouble so we should try to do it clean and I feel like I’m not exactly inconspicuous around here” Tsogo made the observation while towering around the market for the different stall’s offerings, aware that he was technically pointing out a loophole in the captain’s words but too lost in the desire to be petty towards the system to care too much. “You’ll probably need to take the lead with it, I’ll grab some bare essentials and try not to fall too far behind you in case things get hairy.”

Tsogo rubbed his chin in thought for a second before adding on, “we’ll need some way to let the other know if something bad happens if we get separated. Like a very loud distinctive sound, what do you think?” Tsogo ended off his ideas while looking towards the first mate in case he had something else in mind

The planning almost brought him back to his days with the Guardians of the Sea, where he would have taken the lead in their anti-establishment plots. He pretended to browse while he plotted trying not to bring too much attention to the pirate’s scheme.

He stopped while waiting for the response at the far-off sound of gunfire. He stopped his browsing and straightened up, “you uh, hear that loud distinctive sound?” The question was somewhat rhetorical, he was already gauging if he should charge off towards the commotion even though he had no clue what it was about, probably something bad.