Futuristic 𝔸𝕤𝕔𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕚𝕠𝕟 | IC

[Slav]

Sil

Silvan Esser

Fight on!

With the sun slowly falling out of the sky, darkness was starting to settle over Europa. For many in the Core, this would be bed time. For the people of Zernos, this was when it was the busiest. With the temperatures falling, it made venturing outside less of a hassle. The city of Zernos was always lively at night, especially on this night. Today was the night of the derby, the Destruction Derby to be precise. It was one of the most watched events in the city. Many people came to watch the carnage, death, and brutality this event brought. There were no rules, the only rule being to survive. That's why this was an event that Silvan couldn't miss.

Despite hating Europa, he couldn't help but like the night air. His motorcycle cut through the wind like a knife, his helmet blocking the dust and sand that the bike kicked up. The venue was located on the outskirts of the city but that didn't stop many people from walking there. "Get out of the way! The streets are for cars, not hooligans!" He revved his bike, trying to push the crowd to the side. Some people moved, while others insisted on staying in his way. "I see how it's going to be!" Silvan's bike jolted forward, beginning to swerve through the gaps in the crowd like a maniac. Eventually he was able to bypass the crowd, making some progress on his journey over to the stadium.

Stadium was a generous word to use for the structure. It was shoddily built, the stands barely being able to hold the viewers. Junk littered the area around it, mainly from the wrecks that occurred inside. Scrap was the main material, much of it rusted. It was a miracle that it was even still standing. Silvan pulled up to an area where he could park his motorcycle. It was just a sandy field that contained vehicles. This was the only way you wouldn't have your vehicle stolen. If you left it anywhere else, it would be gone. "Hey Jax, make sure to keep a good eye out for thieves, they've been getting brazen lately." Jax was the paid guard on duty. Silvan liked Jax, he was a chill dude, his skills with his rifle were impressive. "Don't worry about it bossman. I've got a new thermal kit on this rifle, I'll see them first before they see me." Sil got off his bike, taking off his helmet and resting it on the seat. He fished in his pockets for his transmitter, taking it out so he could transfer some credits over to Jax. With a swipe of his hand, Jax received his payment, allowing Silvan to head into the stadium. "Something extra for you." Silvan slipped a pack of cigarettes into Jax's front pocket, patting him on the shoulder as he walked away.

Silvan pulled a cigarette from his pocket, using an electric lighter to light it. Even with the sun down, the heat was annoying but at least he wasn't being cooked alive in his leather jacket. The small breeze certainly helped, though the sand it kicked up was a trade off. Sil let out a large swath of smoke, proceeding down a hall that led into the venue. A drunk man decided to make the hall his bathroom, peeing against the rusted wall. "Have some common decency you bastard!" He kicked the drunk man from behind, making him fall into his own piss. The drunk man couldn't get up, rolling around in it. Silvan laughed hysterically, a few tears forming at the edge of his eyes because of the laughter. Getting drunk in public wasn't the best idea, especially if Silvan was roaming around. The laughter slowly made it's way down the hall as he proceeded into the venue. The loudness from the crowd hit him like a wave, feeling the excitement boil inside of him. Today was going to be a good event.

He took another drag from his cigarette as he leaned against the railing that was overlooking the kill zone... or that's what he called it. The event wasn't going to start soon but he always liked to get there early. He liked to see the contestants roll out there abominations on to the field. He always liked to root for the biggest vehicle, bigger was always better when it came to crashing your vehicle into another. Some people like to say the Destruction Derby is too violent. Silvan usually stuck his tongue out to those folks. This event exemplified the lawlessness of Zernos. Zernos wasn't the Core and he hated people that tried to make it similar to the place he detested. If the Core exploded, he would be in the streets celebrating. They never did anything for him, the only person that mattered in his life was himself.

Code By Nano

 

[Zedalith]

FILCH

MEDIEVAL MEDIC

Spikes Sustenance

interested

interactions

@ Nobody :[

Filch stands slightly removed from the crowd, eyes darting around the looming structure they call a stadium. His fingers twitch, almost aching with the pent-up energy, eager to apply his knowledge to the stream of injured bodies that will soon flood the area. His mind races with scenarios, possibilities—crushed limbs, deep gashes, internal injuries, things most people would wince to even imagine. But for Filch, they are opportunities, chances to test his skills. The thought of blood does not repulse him; rather, it thrills him, a sign of the impending reality where he can be the hero, the savior.

He anticipates, he almost craves for it. For the moment the first scream of pain splits through the air, he will be ready. He will plunge into the crowd of injured bodies, his hands steady, his mind sharp, his heart pounding with the thrill of the unfolding chaos. Filch plunges into the crowd, each nudge and shove against his smaller stature met with a determined push back.

"Hey!" A burly man, a good foot taller, bellows as Filch nudges past him.

"Watch it!" Another woman exclaims, nearly spilling her drink as Filch maneuvers around her.

"Got places to be, sorry!" He shoots a mock-apologetic grin over his shoulder, his words barely audible over the noise.

A man with a face full of scars steps into his path, arms crossed over his chest. "You think you're better than us?" He growls, eyes narrowed into dangerous slits.

Filch doesn't even break stride. He side steps around the man, a sly smile on his lips. "Not better, just quicker," he replies, his voice more amused than frightened. His smaller stature, often a disadvantage in Zernos, is an advantage in navigating through the densely packed crowd. As he breaks free from the sea of bodies, a wide, satisfied grin crosses his face. The night promises plenty of opportunities to be the helpful Filch, and he can hardly wait.

With his sights set on a bustling food stall just a few yards away, Filch makes his way over, navigating around clusters of spectators idly chatting. A sign, crudely painted and lit with weak neon lights, announces the fare: “Spike's Sustenance - Best Eats in Zernos!” It's an extravagant claim for a food stand that consists of little more than a grill, a fryer, and an assortment of plain ingredients.

Spike, a bulky figure with tattoos winding down both arms, mans the grill. He recognizes Filch with a gruff nod and a wink. It is a silent acknowledgement of their shared understanding; the derby always brings in good business, for both of them.

"Same as usual, Filch?" Spike calls, tongs in hand.

"Make it a double, Spike." Filch counters, sliding onto a wobbly stool. He's got a long night ahead, he reasons, and he'll need the energy.

With a knowing grin, Spike goes about preparing Filch's order, adding an extra patty to the makeshift burger and a generous dollop of a fiery sauce that Filch has a certain fondness for. As Filch digs into his meal, his gaze keeps straying back to the derby grounds, anticipation simmering in his veins.

Between messy bites of his meal, Filch unzips his worn, leather satchel, revealing an assortment of strange devices. They are tools of an older time, designs largely unchanged: a trephine with its aged wooden handle and a fearsome, circular blade, a fleam with its sharp, straight edge designed for bloodletting, and a set of rough forceps, more akin to a blacksmith's tool than a surgeon's precision instrument.

Filch's fingers, smudged with burger grease, run reverently over them. He studies the sharp edge of the fleam, the tarnished surface of the forceps, a slight smile appeared on his lips. Satisfied, he zips his bag closed again, swallowing the last of his burger as his gaze slides back to the derby field. The roar of engines fills the air, the first hint of the chaos soon to come. His heart rate quickens in response, eager anticipation coursing through his veins. Soon, very soon, his tools will be put to use.

 

[CasualTea]

"Fascinating human behavior..." She mumbled to herself. "What was that?" A girl with blonde hair and emerald eyes asked. "Oh, nothing. Just talking to myself. You can head back to the Core now. I think I'll be here awhile." The lady with horns said as she waved the other girl off. "Alright, just call if you need a ride." She said before heading off on her motorbike and driving back towards the Core.

She was getting stares from others that would discriminate but it wasn't because they assumed her to be an Unwanted. No, they knew she was from the Core. With the way she dressed and carried herself. If there were some who knew about her, they would know she's actually a pretty famed doctor as she had already visited Zernos before and made some miraculous feats in the medical field. She was mainly known for healing others in their wonderful ailments. She was now at the stadium, where she heard there would be much carnage and destruction. Now why would a doctor who healed many want to visit such a place? The simple answer would be to heal whoever got hurt, no?

Actually, she was just here to observe. To study Zernos culture. While in the Core, she can deduct their culture and traditions because they're in a more technologically advanced stature than Zernos. Everything could be linked digitally. But in Zernos, there's only blots of it which paves way for large gaps of information. She visits Zernos primarily for this reason. Healing is just a side job to gain more popularity with its people so she can move around more freely.

Once she entered the stadium with little to no effort, she was met with the loud roars and cheers of the crowd. Of course, it wasn't for her. It was for the main upcoming event. "Truly fascinating..." She mumbled to herself once more. She studied plenty about the humans' history and concluded that they were a pretty violent race. War being something the humans are very fond of. The Destruction Derby, seeming to awake an instinct in every human from what she deduced. Pure chaos. She looked around and definitely saw many who armed themselves with weapons. She also saw one individual with a thermal kit on his rifle.

She didn't see it as much of a threat so she decided to not do anything about it. But it begged her a question. Perhaps she herself should be armed? Under her coat, she formed her hand as if she were holding a pistol. Using data and symbols, her Aether Chip inside of her started to form a physical entity of the pistol she envisioned. It was a large revolver with a heavy and long barrel. She saw it in Zernos' market and thought it would be a good shell for her weapon if she were to get into a fight. She needed something she can use with one hand but delivery a very powerful blow. Knowing that explosive munitions were in the humans' technological capabilities, she knew how to program her weapon in order to be just as effective as she is in Velikan, or what the humans know it as Koschei-VII.

Although it was pretty heavy on her thigh so she made a couple of edits under her coat to lighten the weight of it, using her Aether Chip to manifest a holographic screen under it to allow her to make such edits. She looked at the individual's thermal kit and ran some tests in her head. After some results, she also made a couple more edits so that her coat would conceal her gun from thermals until it was brought outside.

A moment later, she felt a hand slap her rear as a burly male had approached her. "Heeey, little lady. How about you come with me? We can enjoy each other's company while watching the derby? Well, maybe you might have more fun doing something for me while I enjoy it." He said as he laughed. Aozalea had studied this type of behavior and it was quite understandable. Of course, species have an instinct to mate or seek pleasure and he was no exception. Unfortunately for him, she was in no such mood. She just smiled at him before typing really quick on the screen under her coat and tinkered with his brain to feel... nauseous. After the effects were implemented, he felt it immediately and rushed off to the restroom or to wherever he could puke while saving his dignity.

She then sighed and shook her head as she returned her attention to the center of the stadium, waiting for the destruction to come next. Either that or another person to bother her.

Spoiler: Hand Cannon

 

[Britt-21]

Slav (spoke to) CasualTea (mentioned briefly)

Everyone was excited for the event this evening, including herself to some degree. Despite depicting herself as a male with habits such as drinking, rough housing, and more; She was still a woman and can be indifferent to certain events. Derbies were no exception, it was just a bunch of cars and all smacking into each other with intent to not only wipe out the enemy, but also to be the last man standing. The only thing that stood out to her was when they either dragged bodies out (if they were able to) or if there was some explosions happening on the field. That's what made it exciting, at least to her. Azure hitched a ride on one of her original family gang members' bike, chilling on the back while he drove. The woman had a lollipop in her mouth and a hat upon her head and quite honestly, she looked like a gangster alright. The dust flew by, but luckily never went into her eyes due to her position of sitting backwards. The closer they got, the busier it got. More bikes and carts started to show up and she could already hear the revving vehicles, the people yelling. This was gonna be a long evening.

Once her buddy parked, she patted him on the shoulder "Thanks." And hopped off the bike, dusting off her clothes before casually walking toward the arena and through the crowd. Her goal was to get on those damn stands before anyone else can find a way to detour her with the massive crowd. She even caught sight of someone trying to hit on another, however ran off before anything else could happen That's what you get, bastard. Thought Az as she finally got her ass out of the crowd and got to the stands where she spotted a black and red-haired man leaning on the rail "Didn't take you to be the early one, Sil!" With hands in her pockets, she approached while also scanning their surroundings. "Usually I'm the one who's here the earliest." Standing beside him, she did her best to ignore the smell of cigarettes. Despite being around them, the smell alone always made her sick to her stomach but she knew very well she had to fight the urge to make a face each time. "Are the others coming too?" Az asked, referring to the gang that both herself and Sil had been a part of.

Red-eyed gaze shifted around, watching as people slowly filled up the stands with drinks, food, or some other garbage in their hands. Switching the Lollipop to the other side, she fiddled around with something in her pocket, though one may never know what it is till they push her the wrong way.​

 

[ThatWhichShouldBe]

Marshall Jackson
The bounty hunter himself is watching from the stands, dressed in his usual finery. Unlike many of the other people here, he wasn't very heavily armed at all. If anything, he seemed underarmed, with just two little revolvers in his holster. Size didn't matter though. Aim and speed did, and when it came to those two things, Marshall Jackson was one of the best. He keeps a firm eye on the explosions and death occurring in the race, but it's not just because that thing was fun to watch. For one thing, he had a bet riding on one of those racers. Bad habit, but it was pretty fun to win big once in a while by betting on an underdog.

For another thing, one of those racers had a bounty on their heads. He'd shaved, changed his face, gotten an implant or two, but Marshall had tracked his murdering, thieving, poker-cheating ass here. And if Marshall knew anything, it was this guy couldn't resist cheating once again to try and get ahead. The moment Marshall found him, it'd be popping a cap in his head and dragging him off the moment it became obvious one of the very few rules that this place had when it came to the Destruction Derby. They didn't have many, in fact, most people didn't know there were any rules at all, but there were rules.

 

[Servant]

Just an innocent cook

Cassin Naveyra

Serving smiles, one plate at a time.

Ah yes, the Destruction Derby, a spectacle of gore and viscera that morbidly brought the people of Zernos together for a single night of pure violence. While such an exhibition of brutality was the main factor that drew people into the arena, Cassia’s reason was a completely different one: Business. There’s not a single crowd out there that craves food and drinks more than the Destruction Derby attendants, after all live entertainment sure is more enjoyable when you’re chewing on some delicious cuisine. As a result though Cassia was forced to close “Serving Smiles” for the whole day, as prep for the occasion was absolutely insane and had practically emptied all of her reserves. It had all been worth it though, as her food stall was left with an ample selection of food to satiate most palates. From hot dogs, to stews, to meat skewers, to burgers, Cassia’s stall was brimming with options. Hell, she even had some apple puree for those who hankered something a bit more sweet. And of course, let's not forget the main star of the show: Beer. Granted, considering how extensive the menu was, it’s best not to dwell on where the meat came from, when I said she had to empty MOST of her reserves I wasn’t exaggerating. Still, besides that little “factoid”, from the looks on her client’s faces they seemed to be enjoying the menu she had prepared for them.

Speaking of the clientele, in truth there weren’t any particularly noteworthy interactions, most of them simply paid for their things and went on. I mean this being Zernos it’s fully expected that a sizeable percentage of them did fling derogatory terms her way as they made their orders, but that was to be expected at this point and Cassia had years of growing a thick skin to deal with them, in the end all that really mattered was that they were enjoying her food. Still, the young cook made sure to take a mental note of those who were particularly rude as potential…ingredient donors for the future. Nothing new there though.

Suddenly, the sound of engines revving reverberated throughout the entire facility, announcing the soon-to-be beginning main event. As such, not many people remained near the food stalls, as most had already rushed to their seats, giving Cassia a much needed rest as she slumped back onto her chair. Being constantly surrounded by heat sources for so long had almost completely drained the girl’s stamina, it didn’t even look like she had the energy to stand back up. *DING*. A kitchen timer went off, its banged-up state making the fact that it was operational almost a miracle, but it was enough to jerk Cassia back onto a standing position, every hint of exhaustion now suddenly replaced by her trademark smile. The timer had announced the end of several meat skewers’ time on the grill, which were promptly placed inside a basket alongside a sizable amount of other meat skewers. You see, if most of her clients weren’t gonna head down to the stall, then Cassia was gonna take the food to them. After making sure to secure most of her cooking equipment with locks and chains, Cassia was off to join the rest of the attendants at the main arena, taking with her one of her cooking knives just in case.

“Meat skewers! Get your meat skewers! No better way to enjoy the carnage than with some delicious meat skewers! Only 1 credit each!”

Code By Nano

 

[queanbean]

Stygis​

​

While needless violence wasn't really Stygis' thing these days - nevermind the scars on their knuckles and knees from childhood - the demolition derby had a special place in their heart. Sure, people got horrifically injured or killed and the clinic would be backed up for the next week, at least, but with all that carnage and chaos came a sense of community. They might all be out here in the shit of it, but they were all out here together.

Except for... one woman who was very clearly out of place. You could tell a lot about a person by the amount of dirt on their clothes, or the knots in their hair. Besides a few specks that had blown in since she got here she just looked pristine. Stygis almost laughed out loud but managed to stifle it to a huff and a grin. Oh well, who were they to judge where people came from and what they did with their free time. There were always a handful of morbidly curious higher class at these sorts of things. If people wanted to venture from the safety of the core to enjoy a little old-fashioned demolition they were more than welcome to do so. Too bad that sort of thing didn't work the other way around.

Stygis shrugged and turned back to watching the revving hunks of scrap scattering around the pit, showing off before the show really got started. A heavy hand clapped the slender creature on the shoulder, "Poachin' patients?" A group of familiar faces gathered around the Lumivern and were greeted with a bright, sharp-toothed smile. "Who, me? You think I go lookin' for work? Nah, they'll have ta come to me." The tone of their voice had the slightest lisp from the shape of their toothy maw that mixed together with local dialect in all the best ways. A couple of kids started running past, grabbing and hoisting up Styg's heavy tail to sneak under. They got a playful thwap on each of their backs, stirring up some obligatory whines.

People around the Unwanted chatted and smoked and chewed and filled the air with a buzz of excitement that tickled the psychic signals in their brain. The leaned back against the fence and grinned.

"...ewers! No better way to enjoy the carnage than with some delicious meat skewers! Only 1 credit each!” Stygis tuned in time to catch the chant coming from within the crowd. Raising a hand and their head, the nearly 7 foot tall Lumivern would be easy to see as they flagged down the chef. "Lots'f people around here are eatin' and it smells good. Was wonderin' where it'tus comin from."


mentions: Aozalea
interactions: Cassia Servant
location: Derby, by the fence
mood: High spirits, hungry
current appearance: default

 

[Slav]

Sil

Silvan Esser

Fight on!

Silvan turned his head, a smiling growing on his face as he saw Azure approaching. "Azure! Always good to see you!" He started jumping up and down like a child, the excitement too much to keep inside. "I'm always first to these events! Maybe I'm just that forgettable." Sil made a fake pout, grabbing Azure by the side and bringing her in close for a bro hug. "The others are coming soon! I just like to be early to these things." He released Azure, taking the hat off her head. He placed the hat on his own head, giving her a smirk before letting out a cloud of smoke. "You have to work on those muscles, you seem too feminine. Somebody might mistake you for a girl." He said, joking around with her. He leaned on the railing once more, looking intently out into the arena. He was waiting for the carnage, he wanted this event to be the best one.

Once his cigarette reached it's end, he flicked it away into the arena. The roar of the engines were getting louder, indicating that the savage carnage was to start soon. "This is gonna be amazing!" He punched Azure in the arm playfully, his eyes widening as vehicles started rolling out into arena. "It's starting soon!" With how fast his heart was racing, he thought he was going to have a heart attack. The roar of the engines shook the arena, Silvan feeling the vibrations on his finger tips. He searched around for the biggest vehicle, ready to choose the driver who he was going to root for. It didn't take him long to spot his victor. It was a dude dressed as a clown, driving a big armored truck. "The clown better win. You can't waste a good costume like that." Silvan said, pointing towards the burly driver in the arena.

"It looks like there is still a few minutes before things kick off, do you want anything?" He asked, turning to Azure with his red hues. Silvan was a cheapskate, he didn't like to spend credits on himself. Despite that, he didn't have an issue spending them for a friend. He liked to treat others more than he treated himself. "I'm not going to get anything so it's all up to you if you want something." He grabbed a comb from his pocket and began straightening his hair as he awaited an answer. He was fine however which way Azure answered.

Code By Nano

 

[Britt-21]

Slav Servant

Azure knew very well that no one could ever mimic this man even if they wanted to. With the way he was jumping, you could almost guess he was like a child in a candy shop at this point. "Not that you're unforgettable, hard for that to happen." She replied while he brought her close and hugged her like one of the bros and stole her hat away. Leaving her with just her getup "I mean hey, if someone thinks I'm a girl, then I can take advantage of free drinks." A smirk tugged her lips as a small laugh escaped her mouth and took a seat nearby. "Be careful I don't trick you into thinking that too, I might confuse you on who you're actually attracted to." Pulling the lollipop from her lips, she waved it around as she was talking and got up to stand by Silv who punched her in the arm. Despite his roughhousing, she didn't mind it and didn't bruise too easily so the punch really didn't throw her off "No wonder everyone likes to pick on you. You're like a child on christmas morning." She teased.

While some contestants were exposing themselves, she 100% spotted the clown and knew this was gonna be quite the interesting fight. Surely they're doing this for a laugh, or even perhaps going for the killer crazy clown vibe. Thought Azure while Sil offered to get her anything. With a raise of an eyebrow, she glanced back over and wondered if she should get that meat skewer that someone was trying to sell off. "I mean, if you want a snack I guess you can go ahead and get a meat skewer that the one person is yelling out about. It'll taste better while the show goes on and you can always throw the stick if someone gets you mad and hope it hits them." Azure gave an innocent smile, knowing very well if he got pissed off he'd do something like that.​

 

[CasualTea]

Stygis

​

While needless violence wasn't really Stygis' thing these days - nevermind the scars on their knuckles and knees from childhood - the demolition derby had a special place in their heart. Sure, people got horrifically injured or killed and the clinic would be backed up for the next week, at least, but with all that carnage and chaos came a sense of community. They might all be out here in the shit of it, but they were all out here together.

Except for... one woman who was very clearly out of place. You could tell a lot about a person by the amount of dirt on their clothes, or the knots in their hair. Besides a few specks that had blown in since she got here she just looked pristine. Stygis almost laughed out loud but managed to stifle it to a huff and a grin. Oh well, who were they to judge where people came from and what they did with their free time. There were always a handful of morbidly curious higher class at these sorts of things. If people wanted to venture from the safety of the core to enjoy a little old-fashioned demolition they were more than welcome to do so. Too bad that sort of thing didn't work the other way around.

Stygis shrugged and turned back to watching the revving hunks of scrap scattering around the pit, showing off before the show really got started. A heavy hand clapped the slender creature on the shoulder, "Poachin' patients?" A group of familiar faces gathered around the Lumivern and were greeted with a bright, sharp-toothed smile. "Who, me? You think I go lookin' for work? Nah, they'll have ta come to me." The tone of their voice had the slightest lisp from the shape of their toothy maw that mixed together with local dialect in all the best ways. A couple of kids started running past, grabbing and hoisting up Styg's heavy tail to sneak under. They got a playful thwap on each of their backs, stirring up some obligatory whines.

People around the Unwanted chatted and smoked and chewed and filled the air with a buzz of excitement that tickled the psychic signals in their brain. The leaned back against the fence and grinned.

"...ewers! No better way to enjoy the carnage than with some delicious meat skewers! Only 1 credit each!” Stygis tuned in time to catch the chant coming from within the crowd. Raising a hand and their head, the nearly 7 foot tall Lumivern would be easy to see as they flagged down the chef. "Lots'f people around here are eatin' and it smells good. Was wonderin' where it'tus comin from."


mentions: Aozalea
interactions: Cassia Servant
location: Derby, by the fence
mood: High spirits, hungry
current appearance: default

As the main event of the derby was coming near, she started to see some of the contestants roll out in their vehicles. From it looks like, the clown was getting much attention. Probably because of the outfit. Seems like it was just humorous to have the clown come out on top. Though now that she thought about it, some of the humans' records show that clowns could also be quite a horrific figure. It gave her a small grin. Clever. She thought to herself. As she started hearing a food vendor shouting and advertising their meat skewers, she looked around. Upon a glance, she saw one hand going up and she recognized whose hand it was.

She started making her way to the humanoid figure. She, like her, was an Unwanted. But she knew her in other means. She soon got next to her and tapped her shoulder, offering a friendly smile. "Dr. Stygis, order one for me too. I'll pay for both of us." She said before settling down near her. "I didn't think I'd see you in the derby today. Thought you would be getting your clinic ready for the aftermath of it." She teased. She never met Stygis personally but she did ask for some pictures of the receiver of some of her inventory. As money wasn't much of an issue for Aozalea, she would send some quality supplies to someone in Zernos for cheap. Who knew she'd met them here. "Oh, I'm Dr. Croselle by the way. I'm sure you are the one receiving my supplies, yes?" She asked, wishing to confirm that this person was the one she is thinking about. Sure, she had pictures but what if she missed some information and this was just another individual within her race? It was going to be a little embarrassing to get the wrong person. She'd probably pay for one additional meat skewer to apologize for the inconvenience.

Servant

 

[Servant]

Just an innocent cook

Cassin Naveyra

Serving smiles, one plate at a time.

As Cassia made her way through the rowdy sea of Zernos’ finest, occasionally striking up a deal with some of them, the young cook was hailed over by an easy to spot soon-to-be customer. The client in question stuck out like a sore thumb, their distinctive appearance was unique even among the few Unwanted Cassia had gotten a close look at. Hell, she was pretty sure she had seen her around Zernos before, though her occupation eluded her at the moment. Whatever the case was, Cassia wasn’t one that casted shade upon someone without hesitation, after all it doesn’t matter if you’re human or whatever they were, food has always and will always be something everyone can relate to. Still, Cassia’s intrusive thoughts briefly trailed off when she began questioning if the meat of an Unwanted tasted that much more different than that of a human. Just a fun thing to consider.

"Lots'f people around here are eatin' and it smells good. Was wonderin' where it'tus comin from."

“Then you’ve hailed the right person! Cassia’s the name and serving smiles is my game, I take pride in every single one of my dishes, and these bad boys are no exception. Just one credit each!” Before the transaction had come to an end, a third party entered the fray.

"Dr. Stygis, order one for me too. I'll pay for both of us."

Would you look at that, another Unwanted, guess when you’re classified under such a name it's best to stick together. This new arrival though was definitely more normal looking when compared to their partner, guess Unwanted came in all sorts of shapes and forms. Not that Cassia dwelled too much time on those thoughts, she was just ecstatic to have another paying customer. Accompanied with a “Coming right up!”, the young cook passed the duo their food and, after being paid, directed an appreciative nod their way before continuing on her merry way. Cassia only had to take a few steps when, even amongst all the screaming and chanting, her ears were able to pick up somebody uttering a certain string of words:

“...an go ahead and get a meat skewer th…”

Boom, without even a moment to hesitate Cassia was off and appearing right in front of whoever had unwillingly summoned her presence. Yet again another duo, but unlike the previous ones these two were just some regular humans. Not only that, but their faces were DEFINITELY recognizable, though she only knew them by their looks. Welp, time for a proper sale’s pitch:

“Hey hey! I couldn’t help but notice that you two seemed in need of some hearty snacks, sadly though I dooooubt that a single meat skewer will do the trick. But don’t worry, I’ve brought you a special offer! Tell you what, for 3 credits I’ll give you two FOUR skewers. That’s practically a full meal! You won’t get a better deal tonight, I promise you that!” Perhaps if she hadn’t been born a cook, Cassia would’ve made for an excellent door-to-door salesman.

Code By Nano

 

[queanbean]

Stygis​

​

The combination of the horns and the fluorescent patterns that psychadelically shimmered across Styg's charcoal skin certainly made them easy to spot. Despite that, they were awfully glad to be noticed by the skewer-dealer. "Oh perfect. Then I'll-" They began, before being cut off by... would you look at that, the very city-dweller they'd only just finished passing judgment on.

Stygis grinned, their expression a mix of intrigue and confusion. "Uh- yeah, f'course. Make't two." They held up two fingers. It was the offer of free food that kept the Lumivern's usual stubborn attitude toward strangers at bay, though they'd soon realize this person wasn't quite as much a stranger as they thought. "Dr. Croselle!" A glimmer of recognition crossed their face and the fluorescent pattern seemed to do the same. "In the flesh, huh?" The Unwanted clinitian chuckled and set a hand on their hip, holding the skewer in the other and chewing it - really chewing it, who knew what this was made of.

"Didn't think I'd be seein you at the derby. Nah, I like the energy. It's good t' see my community all t'gether, y'know? Does you being here mean I'll be getting supplies fr free this time?" They teased and nudged their company's shoulder. "Foolin'. Mostly. I do really preciate all the stuffs." Another fangy grin cast across their lips. "So wha'but you? Just curious about the action? No poaching on my patients, hehe."

mentions: Servant CasualTea
interactions: Cassia and Aozalea
location: Gettin' meat
mood: Pleasantly surprised
current outfit: Fun orange jumpsuit

 

[Slav]

Sil

Silvan Esser

Fight on!

"The only reason why I'm all giddy is because I get to see carnage today." That wasn't the only reason he was all excited. Just being in this crowd was a whole experience in of itself. The energy from the crowd was rapidly filling Silvan up, becoming fidgety as things seemed to be almost starting. He took the hat off and placed it on Azure's head, patting her on the back. "I know what I'm attracted to and you're one good looking dude. If you didn't have a stick between those legs things would be different." He found Azure to be quite alluring, though he wouldn't openly admit that. His manhood prevented him from saying more, turning his attention to the lady who had the meat skewers.

He was going to call her over but it seemed she had overhead their conversation as she hounded them like a dog. Silvan didn't listen to the sales pitch, she already had him at meat skewer."Sounds like a fine offer to me, hand them over." He sent the credits over to Cassie whilst grabbing the skewers. He handed half of them to Azure and immediately started tearing into the meat like a rabid wolf. His eyes lit up as his taste buds ignited, putting a smile on his face. Whatever was in these skewers tasted like heaven. Before he could ask Azure how they tasted, a man was slowly walking to the middle of the arena.

The man only had a microphone in one hand and a gun in the other. Silvan stared at him like a hawk, waiting for the inevitable. Once the man reached the center, he stood there for a few moments before bringing the microphone up to his face. "The only rule of this derby is that there is no rules! Let's get this carnage started!" The man raised the gun in the air, firing a round. The sound reverberated through the arena, the roar of engines following it. "They are starting!" Silvan's yell struggling to make it through his mouth full of food. With the sounds of crashing beginning, he knew that this was going to be a good event.

Code By Nano

 

[Sierra-Alpha]

Ford Léandre
Location: The Pit
Status: Waiting for the first of many.

---

A crude cacophony of clashes and crashes of steel reverberated throughout the arena. The deafening engines of the jalopies droned on during the bloody spectacle with the event being punctuated by thunderous explosions and the shrill screeches of tires and vocal cords. As the junkers were shredded, razed, and obliterated until they were nothing more than slag heaps, blood and motor oil began to soak into the poisoned earth. This horrid slurry started to drip down and down, further and further into the bowels of the arena before, at last, emerging from the ceiling of the underground.

Ford sat and watched as the sludge dripped out of the numerous cracks of the ceiling; it trickled down the walls and coagulated against the slick sandstone walls which added to an awful mural of past events. The walls of The Pit were caked with the stuff at this point due to the popularity of the bloodsport, and every time the rancid fluid came down, it brought an awful, awful smell.

The man was overwhelmed by the stench, and he brought up a gloved hand to pinch his nose closed. He never could get used to it — the derbies, that is. The needless spilling of blood and the relentless destruction of such fine handiwork was utterly repulsive to him. So much is wasted... and for what? Did the common rabble seriously get their kicks off of this bloodshed?

The entertainment gained from these spectacles was subjective — Ford was a testament to that. But the money it brought in? No arguments were made there.

Beneath the arena and down in The Pit — an aptly named filthy pitstop — there are a number of mechanics who toil and work on machines of death and destruction before they're rolled out onto the stage — and these people are well compensated. It was wise to not skimp out on the pay of the backbone of these games; the events ride on their expertise, after all. This investment definitely paid off. Thousands come to the arena to watch these spectacles, and between the entry fee, the earnings from the concessions, and the fees from the "souvenirs" scavenged from the arena, the derbies raked in some serious dough.

Some of this wealth found its way into the hands of Ford, and it was the only reason he put up with the horrors above. People wanted to see the derbies, and if he wasn't capitalizing off of it, then someone else would. Someone who couldn't tell the difference between a bolt and a screw — like ol' Willie Pete. Probably couldn't, anyway. With the metal monstrosities that man conjures, it would certainly give off that impression. And was he... soaked in petrol? Might've worked on that clown fella's ride. Crazy bastard's got a thing for fire, Ford thought to himself as Petey sauntered by. The scent of fuel wafted towards the man when he foolishly unclamped his nose to prove his observation, and as the potent smell combined with the existing stench, the truly horrible odor was nearly enough to make him hurl. Fortunately, he was able to keep it in.

It looked like Petey was heading toward the exit that led to the stands. He might be heading off to watch his handiwork in action, and despite Ford's rooted stance on the sport, a morbid curiosity struck him as he wondered how his machine would fare in the arena. Most excellently... the man speculated as a smirk crept up on his face.

The Unstoppable was already a heavy girl before Ford made his modifications, and with the slabs of thick plating shipped straight from the local steel mills skillfully welded onto her exterior, the truck was now colossal in mass. Its gargantuan ram was backed up by a skillfully jury-rigged V16 engine, and the only time that beast was going to stop was when it rolled back into The Pit to bang out the dents and peel off the viscera.

That last tidbit was a little too brutal for the man. He shook off the intrusive thoughts before berating himself internally for succumbing to the dreadful allures of the bloodsport. However, in truth, The Unstoppable was genuinely one of Ford's finest works, and he was sure that it was going to come out on top. If things go wrong, though, then the reinforced internals would keep the driver safe and sound if the vehicle was ever disabled. It was the least he could do for his benefactor; it was an honor to work on the driver's machine in the first place. Nice woman, that one. Tips well, too. Might even take home a nice bonus if she takes home the trophy, Ford wondered.

The man looked around the pitstop and saw a myriad of mechanics milling about and prepping for the event's epilogue. The survivors and their rides would roll into the shop after the derby concluded, and they would both have repairs made to their bodies. The local clinic wasn't that far off from here, after all. While the docs worked, so would the mechanics, and Ford would benefit from getting his tools in order as well. Though... it couldn't hurt to see the carnage for himself, right? A couple of the blackfingers seemed to be making way for the stands along with Petey, and there'd be no shame in joining their ranks.

Ford hastily rose from his stool and jogged towards the exit. As he made his way up the steps, he rationalized that he was going to evaluate the performance of The Unstoppable which would help him make future improvements. The man emerged from the belly of the arena, and the derby in its total glory was presented to him. The smell of roasted meat, both from the concessions and from the arena, permeated the stands, and the audience was tumultuous as ever. The typical clamor of the crowd was occasionally broken by a burst of cheers and jeers whenever one of the machines made brutal contact with another.

He began to make his way toward the precipice, and he tried his best not to trample over the crowd of seated folk while offering apologies for those who happened to be in the way. He shrugged off the occasional derogatory statement flung his way, and he made sure not to make any eye contact with those with wild eyes and itchy trigger fingers.

At last, his eyes caught a glance of the beautiful, barreling behemoth as its engine roared throughout the arena. Its silver sheen burned brightly across the battlefield with the occasional blood spatter painting the chassis. At that moment, there was truly no finer sight for the mechanic. It was like watching a hatchling soar out of the nest.

Ford couldn't help but smile as he leaned against the railing.

---

Location: The Stands
Status: Watching the chaos unfold.

 

[CasualTea]

Stygis

​

The combination of the horns and the fluorescent patterns that psychadelically shimmered across Styg's charcoal skin certainly made them easy to spot. Despite that, they were awfully glad to be noticed by the skewer-dealer. "Oh perfect. Then I'll-" They began, before being cut off by... would you look at that, the very city-dweller they'd only just finished passing judgment on.

Stygis grinned, their expression a mix of intrigue and confusion. "Uh- yeah, f'course. Make't two." They held up two fingers. It was the offer of free food that kept the Lumivern's usual stubborn attitude toward strangers at bay, though they'd soon realize this person wasn't quite as much a stranger as they thought. "Dr. Croselle!" A glimmer of recognition crossed their face and the fluorescent pattern seemed to do the same. "In the flesh, huh?" The Unwanted clinitian chuckled and set a hand on their hip, holding the skewer in the other and chewing it - really chewing it, who knew what this was made of.

"Didn't think I'd be seein you at the derby. Nah, I like the energy. It's good t' see my community all t'gether, y'know? Does you being here mean I'll be getting supplies fr free this time?" They teased and nudged their company's shoulder. "Foolin'. Mostly. I do really preciate all the stuffs." Another fangy grin cast across their lips. "So wha'but you? Just curious about the action? No poaching on my patients, hehe."

mentions: Servant CasualTea
interactions: Cassia and Aozalea
location: Gettin' meat
mood: Pleasantly surprised
current outfit: Fun orange jumpsuit

Aozalea chuckled while shaking her head. "No, no." She said. "I have my own patients. I actually came out for research on some wildlife outside the Core. If there is any." She said with a shrug. "I just came over here as it was recommended by a friend." She then bit into her skewer and started chewing on it. She noticed that Stygis also had some difficulty chewing it down so she knows she wasn't the only one finding it a little tough.

"As for the supplies, it'll come like usual. Might take a little longer this time due to some problems with my assistants back at the lab. They're not the best at keeping inventory." She admitted before she looked out to the stadium. "So, how does this usually go? Someone wins in the end, right? What happens to the losers?" She asked curiously as she wanted to learn much about the lifestyle outside of the Core. Her mission is to study the cultures and lifestyles there is. It would be a pretty challenging mission considering the humans themselves are extremely diverse. Adding other species onto that just stacks the amount of diversity there is.

 

[queanbean]

Stygis​

​

"I just came over here ass it was recommended by a friend." Stygis cracked a half-smile in response, leaning back against the precarious railing. "I see I see... Your friend's gotta sick sense uh humor." Despite the comment, Stygis also seemed to find it amusing. "Mm... depens on who you ask. I personally wouldn't say there isn't really a winner persay... jus someone who doesn't get'emselves mortally injured by tuh time everyone else-s. That bein' said, there are some pretty sweet prizes for whoever causes the most chaos in the end."

As if on cue... "The only rule of this derby is that there is no rules! Let's get the carnage started!" A flood of childish excitement courses through the Lumivern's body, their fluorescent patterns glittering like a swell across their skin. "Buckle up, doc." They beam a fangy grin at the doctor and lean against the railing. Cacophony of engines revving, metal scraping and crunching, and exhausts backfiring mingles with the encouraging cries of the crowd. Stygis doesn't cheer too much, but the way they chew the leftover skewer and lean forward with wide eyes is evident enough of their enjoyment. "Wow, wow! Look't that one. Huge beast, amazin'." They pointed out a shiny scrap beast covered in blood already and barreling through, fawning without realizing one of its mechanics happened to be within earshot.


mentions: CasualTea Sierra-Alpha
interactions: Aozalea, mention of Ford
location: Watching the show
mood: Childishly excited, impressed
current outfit: Fun orange jumpsuit

 

[Britt-21]

Slav Servant

Azure practically snorted at his remark, though said nothing more as he returned the hat to her head. It's gonna take him a very long time to figure this one out. Az thought with a shake of her head. Suddenly they were approached by the girl selling those meat skewers almost as if she knew they were eyeing those suckers. Taking those that he handed to her, even she herself began to go for one of the skewers, taking a bite of the meat that immediately gave a party in her mouth. "Well thank you for your special offer. Cause I can assure you if there's more, I'm gonna buy more. This is actually pretty damn good!" She gave the girl a smile and continued to snack on the skewer as her red eyes shifted towards the arena as everything began. The revving engines, clashing of metal on metal, and even the crunching noises from the cars. The screaming, the cheering, I'm gonna be deaf after this.

Her eyes shifted back to the girl "Where and how did you make these? I'm very interested in learning these techniques. Especially when they're very delicious." Taking another bite, she felt as if she was going to heaven and quite honestly was probably going to order more of them shortly because well...She was already almost done with a skewer and quickly making her way to the other. The more Az thought about the food situation, the more she realized that there was no way in hell it would be easy to get enough meat to make all these skewers unless you got lucky. Hunting to her wasn't easy but had to be done just to live. A satisfied sigh left her lips before going right back in for another bite, waiting for the girl's response.


​

 

[Servant]

Just an innocent cook

Cassin Naveyra

Serving smiles, one plate at a time.

And thus once again Cassia’s on-your-face strategy began bearing its fruits, as yet another transaction had been fully solidified, this time with the cute lil couple. Passivity gets you nowhere in a place like Zernos, especially not during one of the rowdiest nights on the calendar, you’ve gotta learn to show certain levels of aggression to stay afloat here. In any case, all that mattered at that moment was watching the glee and satisfaction wash over their expressions as they took a bite of their meaty delights, that truly was the reason why she got into cooking in the first place.

Cassia was so invested in watching her brand new would-be customers enjoying themselves that she barely paid attention to the show that was about to commence, only being brought back down to earth after a particularly loud rev woke her back up. Her perfect frame for selling food was slowly coming to an end, thus she needed to be quick on her feet if she wanted to sell what little remained of her stock. Before Cassia was able to go about her way though, the blue-haired customer had some parting words for her:

"Where and how did you make these? I'm very interested in learning these techniques. Especially when they're very delicious."

Aha! Could this perhaps be a kindred soul that sought to persecute the wonders of the culinary world? Such an individual was a complete and utter rarity these days. “Oh! If you’d like to, I can show you the whole process some other time. You can usually find me over by my restaurant: Serving Smiles! It’s by the central square, and should be easy to spot due to the yellow tables and chairs, plus the sign of course!” Before continuing, Cassia took a brief moment to take count of her current meat skewer stock: 5 in total. “Aaand as per your previous inquiry, I’ll sell you the skewers I have left for 3 credits!”

 

[Zedalith]

FILCH

MEDIEVAL MEDIC

the stands

interested

interactions

Sierra-Alpha

As his jaws clamped down on another bite of the sandwich, the roars of the engines ramped up into a terrible tremor. Slightly greased fingers hold tightly onto his meal, as a trickle of hot sauce drips out of the corner of his mouth. His gaze swivels to the arena, a heavy beast of a machine—The Unstoppable, had just made its way to the arena. Filch squints at the monstrous vehicle. The Unstoppable. He's seen it before, down in the arena. But it looked different now: Ford had his signature smeared all over that machine.

It was always a good idea to make acquaintances, even more so when they had something interesting to offer. He felt an unusual excitement in his belly at the prospect. It was an opportunity to see injuries and damage from another perspective… from the ones who inadvertently helped create them. The meal is discarded, the sizzling meat half-eaten as Filch’s legs pull him towards the stands. Through the crowd, his form cuts through with practiced ease. The crowd closest to the pit would be a great spot to begin his search.

He walks up to a group of spectators near the entrance to the pit. A woman with hair dyed an unnatural shade of pink is shouting something about a bet she'd made. When he taps her shoulder, she turns, and the annoyance that briefly flashes in her face subsides into curiosity. "Have you seen a man called Ford around here?" He holds up his hand, indicating a height taller than himself. The woman squints at him, before shaking her head and turning her attention back to the arena.

Asking around had become quite the quest, he only had vague descriptions and conflicting information. He hones in on a cluster of folks, their hands and faces smudged with oil. "Excuse me," he repeats, "I'm looking for Ford. About yay high," he gestures again, "I saw some of his handiwork on The Unstoppable." His questioning is exchanged with an array of quizzical expressions, and finally a point towards the stands. A lead at last.

It's like trying to find a needle in a haystack. Armed with a vague physical description—dark skin, brown eyes, and slightly taller than average, he continues the search. Here a flash of dark skin, there a pair of brown eyes, and yet the whole package eludes him. In the distance, he sees a figure that closely matches the description he had. As he gets closer, the figure turns slightly, revealing a pair of brown eyes.

"Ford!" Filch calls out, voice piercing its way through the noise. He strides up to the mechanic with a sharp grin staining his features. He glances at the Unstoppable, the sheer size elicits many images of possible injuries it could inflict. "That’s your beast out there, ain't it? Seems to me like you and I are both creators of a sort. You build 'em up for destruction, and I patch 'em up after."

He taps his bag with a nod, filled with tools, the sound of metal clanking together is lost in the ambient noise. "What say, Ford, shall we observe this art of ours together? A new perspective always adds more depth, don't you think?"

 

[Sierra-Alpha]

Ford Léandre
Location: The stands.
Status: Admiring his work.

---

Ford continued to be transfixed by the behemoth of a machine. He tightened his grip around the railing of the precipice as the truck plowed through the arena and left grueling debris of mud, blood, and metal in its wake. It wasn't wrong to admire his work, was it? There truly was no finer sight within the arena — so long as you have good taste, of course — and it was hard not to be enraptured by the vehicle's performance. Cruel as it was, how could one resist the sights and sounds of the fantastically brutal display of the beast flinging a jalopy across the battlefield?

Its beauty was akin to that of a raging sandstorm, or of a building engulfed in flames, or of the rhythmic drumbeats of a raider party on the horizon.

Though enamoring in its presentation, they all brought nothing but destruction and misery — and The Unstoppable is of no exception to this. Ford had to remind himself of this as he scanned the battlegrounds to see numerous wrecks of machines desecrated for petty entertainment. The stories of these poor contraptions and their drivers are now nothing more than piles of scrap waiting to be picked clean — like carcasses for the vultures.

Ford let out a sigh as he shook off the harrowing implications and carried on with his intent observations. After all, he was here to judge the machine's performance. Or so the man told himself. Though, as he watched, Ford was able to pick up on a quip of one of the spectators through the incessant clamor of the crowd. "Wow, wow! Look't that one. Huge beast, amazin'," said one of the abundant bystanders. It was almost as if the string of words was filtered through Ford's consciousness; his swelled up ego had arrogantly assumed that the admiration was directed towards The Unstoppable.

He couldn't help but try to affirm his hunch, and his head swiveled back to try and find the source of the compliment. The rabble before him was certainly sore on the eyes, but his attention locked onto a peculiar looking fellow and their companion. Clad in an orange jumpsuit and seated next to an... exotic looking woman, it was clear from judging their focused gaze on the barreling machine — like a feline stalking their prey — that this one had also taken a liking to the mechanic's work. While Ford personally never had many interactions with the myriad of unwanted within Zernos, he couldn't help but smile as he watched the stranger gaze intently upon one of his finer works.

However, Ford wasn't content with the knowledge that his finery was being appreciated. He needed to know what exactly The Unstoppable is doing that made them tick. And besides, a little light conversation never hurt anyone. The man baited his hook with a sharp whistle, and with a smile on his face, he began to address the unique character with a raised voice. "Hey! Horns!" the man spoke. Unfortunately, the quip could've also been addressed to the strange looking lady seated next to the stranger. A brief and careless oversight, but the more the merrier, right? Hoping to have caught their attention, Ford turned towards them and leaned on the railing.

"She's one hell of a beauty, ain't she?" Ford spoke as he snuck a gaze toward the machine while also jabbing a thumb towards The Unstoppable's direction. "I gotta lotta money riding on that one taking home the trophy! You think-" before the mechanic could finish his inquiry, a sharp voice pierced through the crowd and caught the man's attention. "Ford!"

The man tensed up and froze as his name was called out by an unfamiliar voice. Nothing good came from someone yelling your name out like that. Ever. Ford snapped around toward the source with its now quickening strides as he shoved his right hand in his jacket's pocket. Mid-motion, a myriad of thoughts tumbled around his brain as he tried to ascertain the reasoning for the presence of this new assailant. A messenger, maybe? Shit, an assassin? From whom, though? Maybe it was from that big and mean lookin' client from a week ago. Wasn't one of my finest works, but it was adequate, right? Fuck, that guy was probably a gang leader or something, and I definitely pissed him off. Even if my work wasn't great, it certainly wouldn't warrant sending- Ford's train of thought screeched to a halt as soon as he was able to get a good look at the scrawny looking boy before him.

Oh. This kid lost or something?

Ford's grip on his firearm faltered and his hand slipped out of his pocket as he relaxed his back against the railing. Ford definitely doesn't know this one, but it definitely doesn't seem like he's out for his life. Maybe he got his name from one of his colleagues? Looks like this kid's got more to say. "That’s your beast out there, ain't it?"

The mechanic raised an eyebrow at the little man's inquiry. Looks like he's taken an interest to his work as well. How 'bout that? "Sure is," Ford replied.

"Seems to me like you and I are both creators of a sort. You build 'em up for destruction, and I patch 'em up after." A doctor, huh? Ford's attention was brought to the boy's bag as he taps on it and the two thuds were ever so slightly audible above the crowd.

It appears that these two men were in contrast with one-another. One wrought death — albeit indirectly — and the other, life. There was a glint in this boy's eyes that suggested that he more than welcomed the production of new cases and cavities to dive into. A strange fascination, but it's in good spirit, no?

"What say, Ford, shall we observe this art of ours together? A new perspective always adds more depth, don't you think?" the boy spoke.

Given that Ford was already looking for the opinions of the masses regarding the vehicle, he was more than welcome of another voice in the crowd. Eccentric as this kid is, Ford was sure that he'd bring something meaningful to the table. With a chuckle, Ford spoke to the boy. "Sure thing, kid!" he replied. Looking behind him, he snuck another glance towards the machine as it roared across the arena, and he turned to address the boy once more. "Hey, while we watch, is there anything in particular that you'd wanna know about that beast? Got a big list of details about her, if you'd like." Ford said. The mechanic was definitely welcoming of the appreciation of finer details regarding his work, and he could talk about such things all day.

Having not forgotten about the strangers seated further away, Ford flicked his gaze towards them and spoke with a raised voice. "How about you two? There anything you wanna talk about the one in silver? I helped build the thing, by the way!" he yelled as he tapped the railing with his right hand. There was plenty of room to stand around the edge of the arena, and it shouldn't be too much of a hassle to cross over the crowd, Ford thought.

---

Location: The stands.
Status: Makin' some smalltalk.
Mentions: queanbean , CasualTea , Zedalith
Interactions: Stygis, Aozalea, Filch

 

[Firelie]

font callfont callfont call

Duwhal McKinney

Total Debt

-14,251,991 Credits

{Roof}

{Now Arriving At... The Fool}

{馬鹿 馬鹿 馬鹿 馬鹿}

There Were No Stars. Not in Zernos at least. As much as the glittering, shining specs of city light may try to deceive you, there is nothing up in that sky but smog. A thick plague up above a dying city, holding it and its glittering lights down, strangling it slowly. Surely. Only the core at the center of it all pushed out above the sickness, reaching out towards the real sky above.

Below The Choking Fog, and above the glittering city, a figure worked laboriously at a cracked rooftop. The building once belonged to many as an apartment block, but years of gang warfare whittled it into nothing more than emptied rooms and rotting walls. It was a canvas now. McKinney had been working tirelessly at it all day now. Not many paid attention to what she made anymore, nothing like the attention she drew in her hay days, but she didn't care. That didn't matter for a second.

Night fell around her as she stepped back from her completed work. She was quite proud of it. For a moment she stared at it, expressionless. Then, the corners of her lips tugged up into a smile. In that moment all that existed was her, her piece, and the awful smog hovering above them both. Then, the moment passed, and McKinney had work to get to. She flipped around and moved briskly to the edge of the rooftop, staring down at the hustle and bustle of the world beneath her. Her gaze wandered about until she locked onto her target. A circular arena, almost certainly jam packed and glowing brightly, sticking out like a sore thumb. The derby race was today, a joyous event where Zernian's reveled in the action of monstrous vehicles turning each other into scrap. It was gory, it was violent, and most importantly it was lawless. McKinney had a hit on a man she knew was participating. He used to go by River, but ever since his identity change she has lost track of him- McKinney took a couple steps backwards, preparing her descent to the arena- She had a tip on the man, and she knew he would be there. In a Vehicle called "The Unstoppable."

The Engines in McKinney's mechanical legs whirred to life as she moved for the end of the roof, leaping off the edge with grace. She bound expertly from roof to roof, skating across deteriorated flat tops and grinding her way across tile topped slant roofs. Ten miles per hour. I've got until the end of the derby to finish the kill. Twenty now. River was a gang man, belonging to The Wraiths specifically. There are no rules in the arena, The Wraiths can't touch me for what happens during the event Thirty, wind was whipping at her greyed hair now. Should I fail to get the kill in time, I'll be messing with The Wraiths, I'd be dead in a week. Forty, close now. No room for error either. No medical support if I muck it up. Forty-five and she was a roof away. This is worth five hundred creds, I can't afford to mess this up. She stuck to the side of the roof, grinding on the edge until the very end and leaping out at the corner. McKinney was a faint figure glowing in the lights of the derby as she careened through the air, on trajectory to land directly in the ring. Game time.

Mechanical Suspension screamed out at McKinney as she hit the floor, disappearing into the chaos of crashing metal and thrown up dust. The momentum didn't stop though. She sped through the ring, narrowly evading crudely built derby cars. She leaned to the right as she turned about the edge of the ring, head on a swivel trying to find her target. There it was- The Unstoppable. A terrifying beast, it stood out even among the spiky, terrifying forces whose engines roared like lions of old. The Unstoppable was well built, much to McKinney's dismay. She held a hand out, and a heavy duty wire shot out, whose hooked end found the back bumper and wrapped around it, attaching McKinney to her target. She gripped it with another arm, trailing behind the speeding beast and slowly pulling herself closer to the machine, ready to break should it slam into something.

{fluticasone}

night owl

CODE BY fluticasone

 

[ThatWhichShouldBe]

Marshall Jackson
The gunslinger watches the race, his eyes locking onto the Unstoppable and its driver. There. That was his quarry. The revving cars, the cheers of the crowd, weren't any matter of his. Just the bounty. He gets up from his seat in the stands, walking down the aisle as the race starts in earnest, making his way down to thin barrier that separated track and audience. He was practically counting out his earnings already. But then Marshall sees her. In the midst of the cars, a grey-haired cyborg flying down the road among them, hooked to the back of his quarry by a line. She might've been pretty if she didn't have the flinty, dusty face of a woman with everything to lose and her life on the line. Marshall locks eyes with her for a moment, and in that frozen sliver of time they reach a silent understanding.

They were both hunters. They were both after the same prey.

Jackson makes a running leap, launching himself off of the barrier, to land upon the hood of a passing car with a thud, rolling with the impact to minimize damage. The racer in the machine snarls, drawing out a knife, but an augmented arm slams through the glass to crush the driver's throat with a punch, leaving them choking on their own blood. The gunslinger locks eyes with the cyborg one more time, as his hand grabs onto the racecar's wheel. Duwhal has a moment to realize what he's doing, before Jackson twists the wheel. The car Jackson's on is sent careening towards the side of the Unstoppable, slamming into it. If she didn't do anything about it, she'd be sent swinging on the wire probably into another car, or worse, into the path of another car. Neither of which was particularly healthy.

"If you survive, how about splitting this bounty!" Jackson calls out with a grin, before leaping from the hood of the careening vehicle he was on, onto the flatbed of a truck in the race just ahead. Marshall hears the clicks of weapons being drawn all around him, as the race drivers prepare to shoot it out in the middle of the race. A free-for-all gun battle.

Hell, and he'd thought this would be boring.

 

[Slav]

Sil

Silvan Esser

Fight on!

All that yapping about how those skewers were made was ruining the event for Silvan. "Talk about the skewers later, the carnage is here!" His full attention was on the violent impacts that were on display before them. He had already devoured his own food, not wanting anything to take any attention away from this event. With his concentration fully on the event, it wasn't hard to notice the figure that had made it's way into the arena. Not just one figure, another that had jumped onto one of the moving vehicles. Silvan could feel the anger slowly brewing inside him, a storm ready to rage. His face was visibly annoyed, grinding his teeth as he watched this disrespectful display.

"Get out of the arena you morons! You are ruining everything!" He yelled with ferocity, though you probably couldn't hear it through the chaos that was ensuing. He slammed his fist into the railing, breaking some of it off due to the scrappily made nature of it. These people thought they could just venture onto the field and do what they will. The people of Zernos continued to surprise him, the audacity of people here was unparalleled. "If I ever get my hands on those fuckers I will make sure they don't walk again!" His anger was unwavering, barely suppressing the urge to run out there and fight them.

His gaze wandered around looking for a throwable object. In a place like this, finding pieces of junk was as easy as breathing. He picked up a piece of scrap, examining it before winding up his arm. He threw it as hard as possible, aiming for Duwhal in particular. He didn't expect to hit anything. He just needed a way to physically show his anger and any lose piece of metal or rock was going to be his ammunition. "You guys suck!" The flame inside him as been started, slowly engulfing him. He hated them with every fiber in his being. They were ruining the one thing he enjoyed, chaos.

Code By Nano

 

[Firelie]

font callfont callfont call

Duwhal McKinney

Total Debt

-14,251,991 Credits

{Derby}

{Now Arriving At... The Fool}

{馬鹿 馬鹿 馬鹿 馬鹿}

Complications. McKinney despised them and how much they loved to rear their ugly heads. There was one now- a well built man, mid-20s. Cybernetic limb, and armed as well. A bounty hunter, a competitor. Duwhal hissed in disapproval just as a rock came careening into the side of her head. Hot pain swam in her head. breaking her concentration for but a moment. Then- her head snapped up, looked for the source and found it. Another man, yelling and jeering- and just winding down from a throw. She locked eyes on him, her intense cobalt gaze picking the man apart- remembering him. Then her attention was forced elsewhere- she didn't acknowledge the bounty hunters words, but his actions were unavoidable. Her wire hissed and snapped as pressure was put upon it. Mckinney was careening left now, and she was rapidly approaching The Unstoppable. Mckinney flicked a wrist and the wire dispensed rapidly from her hand, disconnecting herself from The Unstoppable. She rode her momentum, The Unstoppable now between her and Marshall.

McKinney glanced to her left to see another car rapidly approaching. She had mere seconds before it turned her to scrap and mincemeat. Turning toward the oncoming vehicle, McKinney revved the engines of her legs and shot towards it, leaping towards it in a dive. Metallic hands impacted on the hood of the car as it slammed into The Unstoppable. Had Mckinney non-metallic arms, they would certainly be crushed into dust by the raw force of opposing forces meeting, but the artificial arms held. Mckinney pushed off of the hood with tremendous force, using the opposing cars speed to fling her forward as she careened gracefully over The Unstoppable, clearing the beasts roof entirely as she twisted and spun midair, unsheathing a blade as she came down.

With a violent crash, McKinney landed atop the hood of Marshalls stolen vehicle. She slammed into the thing on all fours, driving a thin blade through the hood of the vehicle. Her head hung low, hair dangling over the front of her. "How about you drop the bounty, and get OUT. OF. MY. WAY." Her voice was raspy, void of discerning emotion and terribly intense. She snapped her head up, all but a single blue iris peaking out from behind a curtain of grey and white hair, stained crimson and whipped by dust. The vehicle rattled the both of them as The Unstoppable turned into it, trying to force it away. McKinney didn't move. "If you survive." She added, mimicking the cowboy. Then she lifted her bent arms taut and with surprising flexibility spun her body around so her legs were facing the man. Then, in one smooth motion, using the leverage of her sword in the vehicle, kicked forward with enough force to snap the man's jaw clean from his skull.

{ ThatWhichShouldBe Slav }

night owl

 

[queanbean]

Stygis​

​

Stygis watches the barreling beast totally dominating the field - anything could happen real quick but for now it seemed like the Queen. They grinned and made to point out something else about the arena to their temporary guest when a pitched quip called them out, "Hey! Horns!" Horns? Yeah, that's not too bad. Styg found the voice and lifted a finger in their own direction as if to ask, Who, me? Yes, Stygis, as Ford made his way over.

"Sure is! Hard not to watch'er." The unwanted clinitian grinned and slouched casually against the fence. They were totally prepared to engage in conversation as it were, but the subject of introduction seemed to get snatched by something else. Stygis kept a curious eye on the stranger but couldn't see who he was talking to, until a shift in Ford's stance gave them a glimpse of an unfortunately familiar face.

There were poachers and then there was this brat. "Jus a minnut." Styg tapped Aozalea on the shoulder and sauntered over, staying casual and keeping the friendliest smile on their face. "How about that." They hummed, joining the two against the fence. "Figure you'd be 'ere. Waitin to snatch'em up fresh huh?" The tall Unwanted teased Filch with a subtly mean glimmer in their eye. "Make sure they at least hit tha ground firs though, yeah?" They weren't too terribly well acquainted, but Stygis had certainly seen their fair share of his 'work' and civility certainly came at a moral cost. That being said, Stygis had no intentions to create a scene during such a loved event, and definitely not in front of a guy who was just trying to show off his work to a couple of strangers.

While Stygis wasn't intending to make a scene, it would seem that there were others who didn't share the same sentiment. "Uh... heya, Ford, was it? You know those people? Sumthin' goin on with ya'machine." They hated to be the bearer of potentially bad news, but it would only be a matter of time before pretty much everyone with eyes noticed the growing commotion among the dusty derby vehicles. This hypnotist had pretty good eyesight and was able to pick out two figures clashing around inside. A scowl spread across their lips - they couldn't have an idea what was really going on in there but it was a damn shame some people would step in like that and spoil a bunch of peoples' fun. That being said, the reaction seemed mixed. Some people were straight up angry, near rioting even, while others had clearly started to think that maybe this was a planned thing. It sure didn't seem like it, but people could do what they want.


mentions: CasualTea Sierra-Alpha Zedalith Firelie ThatWhichShouldBe
interactions: Aozalea, Ford, Filch
location: Watching the show
mood: Ugh, double ugh
current outfit: Fun orange jumpsuit