| The World A Universe of multiple planets and their inhabitants. | | by: | This item requires reviews with ratings.
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| Item Size: 45 Additions
Created: 12:34am on 09-14-2009
Modified: 1:58pm on 03-14-2010 | |
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[Introduction]
Ok...a few ground rules I guess...
Dont cuss your mouth off.
You'll want a bio.
No explicit love scenes. Thats not cool.
No killing people unless you ask, ok?
And errr.....off we go?
_ _ _
Name: Silas Donel
Race: Human (Darkside Human)
Planet: Unknown
Appearance: He's about the average human size and weight. Black hair cut into a Mr. T style mohawk, dark, intense eyes, a sharp predatory face and light brown skin. He wears a set of Mk VII Infantryman Armor and a pair of battered goggles with orange lens.
Personality: He is a quiet, introverted individual. He’s a bit of a perfectionist as well. He can be arrogant at times, and can be irritating with unnecessary sarcasm or antagonism, but he is loyal and very caring to all those who make it past his "acquaintance" status. He tries not to bring attention to himself.
Skills and Traits: Darkside Humans are fairly moderate in abundance. They do not, however, possess any radical physical traits that would pick them out in a crowd, so their existence is a bit of a mystery. His eyes have excellent night-vision and he can see as clear as day in pitch blackness, but in result they are very sensitive to bright lights and daylight nearly blinds him. He is slightly stronger than an average human, and his sense of smell and hearing are above average. He has basic military training standard of all Evenal Militia, but he also has a knack for long shots. Despite being somewhat sociable he does very well alone.
History: Silas was born to unknown parents on an unknown planet that he never speaks about. It is shrouded entirely in darkness. He was raised by two good friends of his parents and left somehow at an early age. He joined the Evenal Militia, where he was taken in by his best friend Leopold’s family. He left after the Knights of Evenal began a vicious invasion of the eastern portion of the galaxy and has traveled around as an odd jobber, doing anything that can get him pay. He currently finds himself on Echelon IV.
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 About addition #1: By: Admiral.Small  Added: Sun, 10/18/2009 @ 9:06pmSize: 1,779 Characters Name: Arktheleon Lividivus. AKA: Ark
Race: Human
Planet: Echelon IV
Appearance: Slightly taller then the average human. Has green/blue eyes. He has dark hair that he keeps short at all times, and wears an out-dated Echelian Military Uniform(olive green)
Personality: Ark tends to keep to himself most of the time and will rarely attempt to make freinds with anyone. He reads for the majority of his free time, and tries not to get involved with other peoples lives. He carries a great pride for his home- system of Echelon, he will almost always get into a physical confrantations with people who are disrespectful to it.
Skills and Traits: Growing up in a time of lies and corruption, Ark is good at guessing a persons character and true intentions. He can repair any weapon he comes into contact woth, if given some time to figure out its inner-workings. Considers himself more of a follower than a leader, but can stepup to the challange if needed.
History: Born on the densely populated world of Echelon VI, Ark was thrust into a world of poverty, corruption, and civil unrest at a very earily age. When he was 16, the civil unrest reached its climax when the entire system of Echelon broke out in civil war. He was forced to join the Echelian Army at gun point and soon found that he fit in to military life. After the five year civil war ended, there was no clear winner, although the government that was in place before the war was eradicated. Ark, like many of the men and women that had been in the Echelian Armed Forces, left the system of Echelon behins them and drifted around, most became mercenaries.
Currently Ark is jobless and is considered a wanderer.
About addition #2: By: pamjay Added: Thu, 10/22/2009 @ 4:44amSize: 2,270 Characters
Race: Syronian. Syronian’s are human-like in appearance, although their ears are quite smaller and flatter against their heads. Expert swimmers, they have small slits in their sides that act like gills to aide their swimming. Syronia was a perdominately water-covered planet.
Planet: Perviously Syronia XII, Currently Echelon IV
Appearence: Strikingly beautiful, Adara has long black hair that hangs halfway down her back in a loose braid. Deep green eyes are framed by long eyelashes, a common trait among Syronians, to protect their eyes from the seawater. She has a slender figure, perfect for cutting through waves and weaving around reefs. She usually wears black tights, just past her knee. Tighter clothes are easier to move inconspicuously in.
Personality: Adara trusts noone. When she travelled to Echelon IV she was alone, and she has remained that way. Unimpressed with the judicial system caused by civil unrest, her passionate nature has caused her to act as a vigilante in the streets. She cares deeply about people and life, but refuses to allow herself to become too connected. She is afraid of losing people she loves, and so refuses to let people in. From this attitude, she has become withdrawn and shy.
Skills and Traits: Undeniably a talented swimmer, Adara has learnt to also be agile and quick thinking above water. She is street smart, and has an uncanny talent for escaping danger. Very capable with knives as weapons, she has learnt to be skilled with a dagger from her various hunting escapades when she lived on Syronia.
History: Her father left Adara and her mother on an isolated island whilst holidaying in Syronia. Adara was furious with her father, and is desperate to find him. Adara's mother was weak and soon perished in the overwhelming heat on the island. The next day a ship passed by and saved Adara. Adara soon learnt not to trust men, when she was abused on the ship. After reaching port on the mainland, Adara stole away on a planetary trade ship heading to Echelon IV, just as the civil unrest ended. She keeps her heritage a secret, afraid of being sent back to a homeland that feels more like a prison to her now.
About addition #3: By: Flaw Added: Mon, 10/26/2009 @ 8:02amSize: 1,869 Characters
Race: Human
Planet: Currently Echelon IV, origin unknown
Appearance: Of average height and slim build, Vargo has thinning hair flecked with the silver-grey of stress rather than age. He has large, ragged scars left from a horrific injury to the left side of his jaw, leaving him with a partially deformed mouth, which reveals pallid gums and false teeth. On his neck are the unmistakable tattoos of the Slave trade, rivalled, on his left wrist, by those of the interstellar prisoner of war establishment, Sharma. He is missing the ring finger of his left hand and walks with a slight limp.
Personality: Speaks very little, and always less than he knows. He seemingly takes little pleasure in life, but is driven by some unknowable purpose. His stoic attitude and reluctance to create emotional bonds with others often make him appear cold and unfeeling. He has the look of death and suffering about him and his personality gives the outward appearance of complete numbness.
Skills/Traits: Vargo is a jack-of-all-trades, skilled in many fields and a fast learner – what he lacks in social skills, he makes up for in cold efficiency. He is a competent soldier, experienced in the art of combat, though avoids conflict where possible. The poor reconstruction surgery on his face has done nothing to restore his powers of speech and he speaks with a slur.
History: Vargo keeps his past to himself. The tattoos on his body mark him as both a criminal and a slave, but beyond this there is only speculation. The injury to his face appears to have been caused by a blasting weapon at close range. One of his few possessions is a journal, potentially revealing the mysteries of the past, but he guards this with his life. Currently he is in search of a ship for hire.
About addition #4: By: Admiral.Small Added: Sat, 10/31/2009 @ 8:49pmSize: 2,822 Characters
"Hey, I've already told you once. Get the Hell out of here, you damned thieves!" Someone in the market yelled. Ark glanced over to where he heard the commotion and saw a man posted at a booth selling some odds and ends, pointing at a group of people all dressed he same. Ark couldn’t help but smile. The new government had made a promise to get rid f street crime, and they couldn’t even keep gangs away from markets in the primary city. Ark looked around as he made his way over the booth, and saw several of the new governments’ guards looking at the scene with disinterest. 'At least the old government dealt with thugs.' Ark thought to himself. He finally reached the booth where the altercation was happening.
"Is there a problem here?" He asked the man at the booth. The man glanced at Ark, then back at the gang with absolute rage in his eyes. "These 'people' are ruining my business. Every day they just stand here, chasing my customers away. And those idiots" He gestured to the guards. "Just sit there and do nothing." The man finished. Ark cast a glance at the group of street thugs and had to stop himself from laughing. They were just a pack of punks who thought they were tough. "Hey, go away or you’re going to get hurt." Ark said to them. They stared at him with venom. "Ya? What are you going to do about it if we don’t?" The 'leader' said, taking a step towards Ark.
Ark pulled out his old sidearm and shot the guy in the leg. The man fell to the ground screaming and clutching at his leg. The rest of the gang stood, stunned. Ark gestured at the man with his sidearm and made a gesture to go away. After a second of two, they got the idea and grabbed the man Ark had shot and pulled him away. He holstered his pistol and turned back to the booth man, and saw him smiling. "Who must have fought with the loyalists back during the war." The man stated. "Yup. You know any place I can find a job?" Ark asked. The man nodded "Sure, try the docks. Plenty of work, legal and otherwise, there. And thanks for getting rid of those thugs." The man said and threw Ark a voucher. "That’s good for a meal, just about anywhere at the port." He said. "Thanks." Ark said and began walking towards the space port.
About addition #5: By: pamjay Added: Sun, 11/1/2009 @ 12:46amSize: 1,409 Characters
A shrill gunshot rang through the air, Adara's eyes darted over to the south side of Grandvilia Avenue. A man in an outdated military uniform had just shot a street thug in the leg. She growled, the sound deep in her throat. That sort of needless violence frustrated her.
Shaking her head, she stood up and tried to get a better look.
The man at the booth had handed the shooter a voucher, probably for the port.
Adara rolled her eyes.
"Of course," she mumbled. "He did it for money."
The city never ceased to surprise her anymore.
Thinking about the space port, she guessed she'd being having take-out from there again. She leaped from the rubble, and landed lightly on the ground. She'd better start walking if she wanted to get there before dark.
The darkness in Echelon IV, was not like darkness anywhere else. There was no moon, no stars. Just complete black.
Of course, there were street lights - but in the civil unrest most had been destroyed. Now they were few and far between, and Adara didnt trust the citizens enough to travel alone at night.
She began walking to the port, a large grey building on the horizon.
About addition #6: By: Flaw Added: Sun, 11/1/2009 @ 9:28amSize: 1,240 Characters
The docks business had been slow since the civil war; the city had nothing to export and no real money to buy goods. The ships that did arrive at the docks were transports, carrying immigrants looking for work, from the slums into the city. These were people with a dream, but a dying dream.
Vargo watched silently as the latest procession of men and women, many with children, slogged their way off the massive ship and down the gangplank. Many had nothing, some families had only one bag between them. Yet they still smiled.
Optimism was a beautiful thing.
It was getting dark, the sun was almost completely submerged in the sea of desolate buildings on the horizon. Out of the corner of his eye, Vargo saw the half-hearted light of the 'Welcome to the Docks' sign automatically flicker on.
Time for business.
As he arrived at the door of the 'Lonely Traveller' inn, he heard the robotic doors clink as they unlocked. With a limp he eased himself into the building and looked around. Smokey, uninviting and stinking of booze. But at least it was quiet. For now.
About addition #7: By: Admiral.Small Added: Sat, 11/7/2009 @ 1:46pmSize: 2,216 Characters
Ark looked around and saw several people standing around, glaring at the new arrivals. He knew that they were loyalists who had lost their jobs to the waves of new people flocking to the system, looking to find their fortunes. A few yards to his left he saw a woman with a child standing with her. He could tell that they hadn’t eaten in a few days. Ark made his way through the crowd to the women and handed her the voucher. The women look at him with suspicion, obviously thinking that it was some kind of cruel joke. "No, really. Take it. You need it more than me." Ark said. The women slowly reached out and took the voucher. "You a loyalist?" She asked. "If you mean during the war, yes." Ark replied.
"Thanks a lot." The women said and went off, her child in tow. Ark knew he could last a few more days without food. He found out how long he could last without food during the Siege of Vanguard, possible the worst battle in the entire war. Ark sighed. Bringing up the past would only ruin the rest of his day. Ark looked around again and found that the area of the space port he was at was actually the part his company had defended during the war. He went over to a section of the far right wall and saw the holes in the wall where bullets had hit. Most people would just think they were made from misses. But Ark knew better. The bullet holes he was staring at were where his company commander had died. Ark saluted the area as a sign of respect for Captain Wilkson, and made his way toward the south wing of the spaceport.
Maybe he could find a job there.
About addition #8: By: pamjay Added: Sat, 11/7/2009 @ 11:03pmSize: 2,024 Characters
The dock's walls were fragile, filled with hollow spaces from the thousands of bullets during the war. She sighed sadly, so many people had died. Too many people.
Adara hadn't eaten in two days, but she didn't feel hungry. She didn't come to the port for food, not often - anyway.
She worked at a fish-market near the waters edge for an old man and his wife. What they lacked in paying her, she made up for in eating.She stole pieces every now and then, only on busy days though. Days when missing stock would not be noticed. But they were few and far between.
She preferred to come to the dock for the social aspect, rather than the enormous collection of food-booths. From sitting and watching the crowd, she could tell if things were better or worse.
Judging from the frail, pronounced bones of the humans in the dock - Adara would say things were worse. Much worse.
There was only half the usual crowd, more thiefs than buyers.
She placed her hands over her eyes, frustrated by the complete destruction she foresaw in this society. It was inevitable. Food takes time to grow, and the children didn't have time. Nor the elderly, nor did anyone else.
Standing up, she walked over to the bathrooms - unsuprised by the rubbish littering the floor, or the putrid smell.
She looked in the mirror, and splashed her face with the rust-smelling water. She was a mess.
For the millionth time she asked herself why she was still here.
She stepped out from the bathrooms and scanned the crowd.
Her eyes focused on the man from Grandvilia Avenue. He passed a voucher to a deathly-pale woman and her child.
Curiosity overwhelmed her. Who was he?
She walked over to the booth near where he was standing, bemused by the contrast between the mans previous and current behaviour.
About addition #9: By: Flaw Added: Sun, 11/8/2009 @ 7:36amSize: 3,105 Characters
Sipping from his tin cup of water, watching the drips and drags of humanity seep into the establishment, Vargo thought about the unifying affect of alcohol. Murderers, marauderers, soldiers and saints; they all found release in the pleasant numbness of an alcoholic stupour.
He did not have to wake long before the man he was waiting for arrived. He was a few inches taller than Vargo with a chiseled, grizzled face. Vargo did not rise to greet him. As he sat down opposite him, Vargo noticed the lines around his lips and the stench of smoke thickened. True enough, the man produced a long thin smokestick and lit up. It reminded Vargo of the cigars he had seen back on his homeworld, but these smokesticks glowed with a dark red flame, like embers in an abandonned fireplace.
"So," the man said the word as he exhaled a lungful of smoke, "you want a ride on my ship eh?"
Vargo took a few seconds to compose himself - a great speaker, he was not. Not anymore.
"Yesss," he slurred slightly. The ship's captain looked bemused, but puffed at his smokestick in a nonchalant manner.
"Well, my friend...it'll cost you..." The captain didn't like the look of this man. He was too quiet and observant, he had those eyes which never left you and saw everything. "5000 ECs."
That sum of money was a joke. With 5000 Echelon-Credits, one could practically buy a small spacecraft. Vargo was not wanting of money, but even he did not have that much. He sighed. How typical, that on this godforsaken planet, the only captain willing to talk deals was a moron who thought he was a hotshot.
He said nothing, sipped again from his water and stared cooly at the captain. The captain stared back, a little uneasy. He had just caught sight of the scars across Vargo's jaw. Must be a war verteran, he thought.
"Hey er, you're not a loyalist are you?" He asked tentatively. He did not like loyalists.
Vargo was indifferent, but he was not about to let that slip.
"Perhaps," he said coldly. The captain's eyes flickered. A bad past experience?
"I have to go," said the captain hurriedly, "Business is business. If you haven't got the creds then i can't take you to the ESTC. No hard feelings." He stood up, the scrape of his chair instantly abrasive against the gentle background hum of the inn. For a moment he looked like he was considering a loyalist salute, but then thought better of it. In seconds he was gone.
No transport to the Echelon System Trade Centre, a space station up in orbit above the planet, not tonight anyways. To another, this would have been a totally wasted trip, but not to Vargo. He had learnt much. All he needed now, was a loyalist.
About addition #10: By: pamjay Added: Sat, 11/14/2009 @ 2:42amSize: 2,648 Characters
She found herself staring at the ground, startled by the intense, raw defensiveness his gaze held.
She walked over to the closest stand, fumbling in her bag for a voucher. Upon realising she didn't have one, she lifted her eyes again to the strange young man in the uniform. He looked at her curiously for a moment, then turned on his heel and stalked away.
Adara cursed. She had a nagging feeling this man was a crucial element to something, like he would be important later. She cursed again as he disappeared from her sight.
'Relax!' she tried to convince herself, 'it's just your curiosity making him important. His existance is nothing to you.'
Seeing the bar a few hundred metres away, Adara focused her attention on making her way there unnoticed. She hated merchants and beggars asking her for money. As she reached the doors, she prayed that tonight Jaarid was working the bar. He had a soft spot for an attractive woman, maybe, if she played her cards right - she could get a drink tonight.
A man with disfiguring scars and deep brooding eyes sat at the bar, looking down at his drink. Adara stared at the glass as she hoisted herself up onto the stool. It was merely water.
"What're you lookin' at?" he slurred at her, his voice tense - but not unfriendly, just apathetic.
"I," Adara flushed, startled by the fact that he noticed her gaze. Not many did. She considered lying, then opted for honesty - this man didn't look like he patronised liars. "I was just noticing your drink. I'm sorry."
"What about it?"
"It's water. I'm sorry, I was rude. I just, well, this is a bar. You know, drown your sorrows - if you can afford it."
"You don't look like you have a voucher," he accused, lowering his eyes to point out her lack of shoes.
"Yes. Well, I was hoping Jaarid was working tonight," she smiled a little.
"He's not." The man growled.
"Oh."
Neither spoke again. The man took a sip of his water, and Adara traced the lines in the wooden bench.
She gathered up the courage to speak again.
"I'm Adara," she smiled, extending her hand.
The man looked at it disdainfully.
"Vargo." he muttered.
About addition #11: By: Flaw Added: Sat, 11/14/2009 @ 1:06pmSize: 2,237 Characters
He'd spotted this Adara girl as soon as she had entered the bar. No, it was unfair to say that she stuck out, but her manner seperated her from the normal lowlifes which entered a bar such as this. And of course her bare feet. The amount of broken glass, scrap metal and other debris made it impossible for most to comprehend walking bare foot. She was very beautiful, perhaps the most beautiful woman Vargo had ever seen. In a world of destruction and desolation, her beauty was lost on no one in the room - Vargo imagined she turned heads wherever she went. But as she sat down beside him, she changed posture and was instantly unassuming and inconspicuous.
I guess she turns heads only when she wants to...
He swilled his drink and sat silently - he had said too much for his liking already - but there was something about her, some compassion that he could not identify. Out of the corner of his eye, he examined the girl. Clearly a Syronian, the only marginally webbed toes had given it away. Not many Syronians in the Echelon system. Intriguing. And the tight clothing did nothing to hide the blade she carried at her belt. So she was armed - but so was everyone. What was more amusing was that it was a knife not a gun; most carried a small firearm, especially into a bar. Vargo mused. There had been grace in her walk, perhaps even...threat? Maybe she could bring a knife to a gunfight and win.
Not that he cared. He could feel her eyes on his face, on his scars. She was just like everyone else; a misfit out of luck. What did she do for a living?
Was she a thief?
A begger?
A prostitute?
No, not with that nobility in her eyes.
Why was he concerning himself with such things, he had bigger issues on his hands. Something in him wanted to give her what was left of the water. Instantly, his conscious snuffed out the candle of altruism and he downed what was left of the drink. Just some misfit out of luck, just like him.
About addition #12: By: Admiral.Small Added: Fri, 11/20/2009 @ 12:25amSize: 1,591 Characters
Ark entered the bar and blended in with the small crownd as best he could. Instead of heading right for the women, he made his way around the bar, pretending to look for someone. Of course, his gaze rarely left the women, after all, she might know that he was there. After about a minute Ark had made it half way toward the women, and noone showed any signs of even acknowledging him. He finally got a look at the man too. Nothing really special about him, just a few scars on his face. Suddenly the women extended a hand to the man. Ark could tell that her attention was fully on the man, and he made his move.
In about five seconds he had made it to the bar-counter and had positioned himself behind the women. He readied his pistol as he took one more step towards her, and then pressed the barrel in to the womens back.
"Move and your dead." He said to her.
About addition #13: By: pamjay Added: Fri, 11/20/2009 @ 6:22amSize: 2,424 Characters
She did not flinch, she knew noone else would be able to see the pistol. He would definately have it covered by something. So she sat calmly, only furrowing her brow slightly.
Vargo, the man with the disfigured face looked up carefully. Adara looked in his eyes, pleading for some sort of communication. She needed to know who it was behind her, before she could decide on a course of action.
Vargo looked down, and stared at the empty glass before him. Like he was contemplating whether or not he should help her. Adara reasoned with herself, she would contemplate it too. Echelon was too uncertain a place to get yourself involved with such things.
Finally, arching her back away from the tip of the pistol - she spoke.
"Somewhere more private, perhaps?" she asked, her voice just above a whisper.
The pistol drew away from her spine, and as his hand tightly gripped her elbow, she felt it rest against her stomach. She looked fleetingly at Vargo, begging for his help. He pulled her up, the pistol still hidden by his coat, and led her upstairs to a small, dark room.
She still had not seen his face. But as he threw her away from him, and she collapsed violently on the musty bed, she caught a glimpse of him.
What faced her, half hidden by the shadows, was the handsome face of the man she had followed in the main market square of the port. The man who had passed a voucher to a pale woman and child, who had shot a man in the leg with the same genuine ease in both cases.
He walked over to her and hit her across the face.
"Who are you?"
"Why?" she spat, rubbing her cheek gingerly.
He hit her again.
She placed her hand around the hilt of her dagger, and stared at him viciously.
With a quick flick of the wrist she pulled it out from her belt and slashed his ankle, watching him topple to the ground.
She launched her body on top of his, sitting on his back roughly. She leant forward over to his ear and whispered menacingly.
"I am Adara. And if you move," she placed the cool silver blade against his throat "you're dead."
About addition #14: By: Flaw Added: Fri, 11/20/2009 @ 3:23pmSize: 2,001 Characters
Vargo sat coldly at the bar, contemplating his next move. He had been instantly aware of the man's presense, ever since the light breeze had brushed his face as the man opened the door. He did not look anything special. By his dress he was just a washed up soldier. There were lots of them about; men of war lost in a time of peace.
He was surprised, however, when the man proceeded to press a gun into Adara's back. But to be surprised was one thing, to act it was another.
This was not his fight - the girl was nothing to him.
Vargo feigned disinterest as her eyes pleaded for help. He did not like the feeling of her eyes on him, questioning, challenging him to make a desperate bid for altruism and nobility.
Vargo felt the pressure of his pistol under his belt. It was immaculately kept, promising instant vindication with but a flex of the hand.
He kept his hands on the table.
Altruism and nobility were archaic concepts.
But as Adara got reluctantly to her feet and began to be led up the stairs to the rooms above, Vargo caught sight of something.
An opportunity.
An insignia.
A loyalist insignia? Worn so abrasively, obviously on the shoulder? Surely not. In some areas, such a sight would get you a knife in the gut.
Vargo placed a couple of credits at the bar, blanking the appreciative barman's smile. It was always better to pay with cash.
He reached the stairs and heard a shriek of pain. His mind retched at what could be happening in the room - a frustrated ex-soldier throwing his weight around - but his face remained unchanged, as did his stride. A hand slipped to his belt and flicked the safety off his pistol. For a moment, Adara's face came back into his mind, young, beautiful and still, somehow, hopeful.
He reached the door the noise was coming from.
It was time for business.
Time for business.
About addition #15: By: Admiral.Small Added: Mon, 11/30/2009 @ 2:48pmSize: 995 Characters
"Nice to meet you Adara. I guess you dont work for the new government after all." He said. The women didnt say anything, but Ark felt the blade press against his throat a little harder. "Nevermind." Ark mumbled. Suddenly the door to the room opened and someone came in. Ark could see him out of the corner of his eye, and saw that it was the man that Adara had been talking too at the bar. The man stopped in the door way and didnt move after that. Ark could tell that Adara was giving him a curious look, but the man didnt show his face.
After a minute of uncomfortable silence, the man simply put his hand on the pistol and stood there.
About addition #16: By: pamjay Added: Tue, 12/1/2009 @ 12:56amSize: 2,099 Characters
"Adara, I see all is well here." his tone matched hers, but his grasp on the pistol didn't loosen.
"No thanks to you."
"Well, you know the times."
"Clearly not well enough."
The man beneath her struggled, and Adara planted her feet more firmly, readjusting her weight.
"Please don't try." she spoke condescendingly to the young man. "Mother and Father are trying to speak."
"I apologise for not helping sooner, Adara. This man, it seems he was troublesome?" Vargo gestured to her cheek, now bruising.
"He was{/}. It's under control now."
She felt the man sigh beneath her.
Vargo spoke again. "You a loyalist?"
"Maybe."
He walked to the young mans side and kicked him viciously in the stomach.
"You a loyalist?" he repeated.
"Yes!" he groaned. "Please get off."
Adara consented, if he tried to hurt her, she was sure Vargo would help her now. He wanted something from the man. She knew it.
"That was unnessecary, Vargo." she chided.
"Nothing is unnessecary."
The young man sprang to his feet, and walked over to a chair. He held his head in his hands and sighed.
"What do you want from me?" Adara asked him softly.
"I was worried. Scared. Angry. I saw you following me."
"That's no reason to try and kill me."
"People don't seem to need reasons anymore."
He looked angrily at Vargo, "I've noticed."
"Okay. Vargo here is clearly wanting something from you. So how about we get down to business. Since he decided to help me, I'll help him. Under one condition." she raised her eyebrow at Vargo. "I want in."
About addition #17: By: Flaw Added: Tue, 12/1/2009 @ 2:04pmSize: 2,104 Characters
And he had been alone a long time. A long time.
Somewhere at the back of his mind, a small voice of the past told him to squeeze a few rounds into both of them, take the uniform and be done with it.
Vargo said nothing to Adara's ineferring eyes and motioned for her take the man's gun. She was not at home with a gun in her hands and she turned it over in her hands, looking like a child with a new toy. Maybe she was.
He would keep her in his line of sight...just in case.
The loyalist had gone very pale, not quite shivering, but scared. But he held his head up high. Now that his adgenda had been revealed, he was taking pride in who he was.
Vargo was glad Adara had let him up; as much as he enjoyed the flicker of adrenaline as he had kicked the man, it was cruel to destroy a man's dignity. Besides, he might need that dignity later.
"I need you to do something for me," Vargo said, looking straight at the loyalist, testing the man's eyes with his own.
"I'll do nothing for you, government scum! I'd rather die than help you!" The hansom man struck a noble pose and his eyes spoke no lie.
Vargo ran his fingers over the butt of his pistol, contemplating. Adara was looking at him. There was an alertness in her expression, a new awareness of the weapon in her hand. She did not trust him.
Good.
He did not trust anyone.
"Sit down." It was a command, no more no less. The loyalist sat down. "You're bleeding."
"That bitch cut me," the loyalist spat. The harsh words seemed unused in his mouth, said out of fear.
"That bitch spared your life. Be grateful its just a fleshwound." Though she did not show it, Vargo could sense Adara's smugness.
About addition #18: By: pamjay Added: Thu, 12/3/2009 @ 9:02pmSize: 1,269 Characters
"Your uniform, I want it." Vargo stated clearly.
"NO!" shouted the young loyalist.
"Perhaps we can make a trade?"
"NO!"
Adara tutted. "Honestly," she scanned his uniform searching for a name, "Arktheleon, why won't you consider?"
"The uniform is a symbol of what I stand for, giving it away for something - clearly not in the planet's best interests - would be wrong."
"What is it you want, actually, Vargo?"
"I want a loyalist uniform." Vargo avoided the real question.
"For what reason?" spat Ark.
"That which does not concern you, will not be told to you."
"It's my uniform!"
"Not for long. Adara, please?" Vargo gestured to Ark, clearly indicating he wanted to take the clothes off him by force.
Adara scoffed at him. "You can't be serious." she walked slowly over to Ark's side."You want me to take the clothes off this man's back, for you? I'm not your servant."
Vargo looked bemused.
"So what are you?"
About addition #19: By: Flaw Added: Fri, 12/4/2009 @ 11:14amSize: 2,708 Characters
"I'm free!" she exclaimed passionately.
Ark looked sideways at her, newfound respect appearing in his face. Maybe he had misjudged the Syronian.
"I'm a free woman; free to do whatever i choose," she continued.
She would have made a great loyalist, thought Ark ruefully, stauncing the bleeding from his ankle.
Vargo remained silent. Downstairs, they could hear the hustle and bustle of the tavern as the regulars arrived for their first early-evening escape from reality.
Cooly, Vargo weighed up the odds. These people were not his friends - he owed them nothing. A poverty-stricken Syronian and a whimpering loyalist. What were they to him? Just animal matter, just cogs in a machine.
Maybe the bullet would be the better choice.
"No more words," he said, the pain in his scarred face beginning to become highly unpleasant. "You have something I want. Name you're price, loyalist." He turned to face Adara. "You have nothing to offer me. Take your revenge on this man and be done with it, or get out."
Adara looked hurt. The knuckles around the pistol grew to a white intensity.
Vargo was pleased. He had said all he needed to say and the words had had the desired effect. Her fury would melt away. Fury was better than being dead.
Vargo was not the only one considering his options. Ark's life could well be in the balance. He did not know what he had intended for Adara. He would not have killed her. Just knocked her about a bit. Tought her that being a government agent was a very poor career choice. Done her a favour.
But now the gun was in the other hand quite literally and if she choose violence then this was the end.
Ark was not a coward. He had served in the army, he knew how to survive. He knew guns, he knew gunmen and he knew Adara wasn't one. Disarming her would be easy. He hoped...
But the other?
There was intensity in Vargo, a dark, electrifying energy undulating just below the surface. An unpredictability waiting to break out. And, judging by the scars, he'd seen his own share of combat.
But he couldn't give up his uniform! It was all he had left of his ideals; a last bastion of hope for a better life. He would never surrender it. Better to die wearing it with pride than live, barechested and ashamed.
Ark touniqued his injury with a strip of material and prepared himself for whatever was to come.
About addition #20: By: Admiral.Small Added: Sun, 12/13/2009 @ 7:48pmSize: 1,923 Characters
He didn't reach for it yet, but he did take his time covering his injury. "You know, Vargo, if you kill us, or just one of us, you wont get out of here alive." Ark said, finally finishing up with the make-shift bandage. He looked up, and even though he hid it well, Ark could tell that Vargo was curious about his remark. "I picked to confront Adara because, if things went badly, I could always count on backup." Ark said and gestured to the door. Vargo and Adara both were wondering what he had ment, because no-one was at the door, but after a minute they heard what Ark had meant.
From down in the main bar room they heard the Echelian Anthem being sung. "You see, this is considered a loyalist bar, and us loyalists stick togeather. Now then, if we could all be more civilized." He began saying, but stopped himself and turned to Adara, "I apologize for the rather rude manner in which I attacked you. I suppose there were better ways to find the truth, but I prefer the more direct route." Ark apologized. Adara simply stared at him in response. "Why did you think she was following you anyway?" Vargo spoke up.
Ark didn't want to tell them why, but figured the situation couldnt really get anyworse. "Becasue the new 'government' have been hunting down loyalists who were awarded the Nova Star Badge, which I was. But thats a diffrent story. If you tell me the reason you want a loyalist uniform, I might be inclined to help you get one."
About addition #21: By: pamjay Added: Mon, 12/14/2009 @ 7:21amSize: 1,402 Characters
She wanted out. The one thing she had learned about these situations is its better to bail, then stick around for the payment.
Sure, whatever Vargo was hunting would have benefited her somehow - but nothing was worth trying to fight her way out of a bar filled with angry, pathetic loyalists. Since losing the civil war, the fighters still hung up on their 'mission' had become almost cult-like. Acting as vigilantes, superior 'leaders' acting for the benefit of Echelon citizens. Unfortunately all the really achieved was a bad name for an essentially good cause.
"Well boys, this has been fun. But - I'd better be going. It's clear I wasn't following you. So.." She attempted to push past Vargo, and he attached his wrist to hers. His cold, vice-like grip, curled around her slim arm, and Adara inhaled from shock. He was hurting her.
"I don't think so, you see, you've witnessed this transaction. So you're in, or you're dead."
From the corner of her eye she saw Ark nod in agreement.
Her second death threat for the day, Adara winced in pain, his tight grip forcing her to her knees before Vargo.
Vargo looked down on her, a small smile curling on his lips.
"I think you just agreed."
About addition #22: By: Lord Raith Added: Tue, 12/22/2009 @ 4:21pmSize: 2,998 Characters
He pulled up to an empty spot near the Lonely Traveller Inn and entered, loosening his Evenal Militia service revolver along the way.
He had put his things away just in time it seemed. He came in just as they had started some old Loyalist song.
He thought about going into the bar and getting something to eat, then decided against it. Frankly he was too tired and angry to care right now. A few of the guards in the market had done nothing but laugh their asses off at a man who was shot in the district. When the man requested an arrest on the one who shot him, they had done nothing but bumped it down to one of the grunts, leaving him with the task of looking for him. By the time he had given up, it had become the pitch black of Echelon night, and he had ridden in the uncomfortable seat of the grav-bike for hours. Now he was here, and all he wanted to do was get to his room and sleep.
As he made his way up the stairs, his hand passed over his face, through the short mohawk, and down to the nape of his neck, which he rubbed for a second wearily. 'I can't wait for that dirty old sack they call a bed' he thought to himself. The floor was nearly as comfy as that concrete pallet they tried to pass off as a bed. But he didn't care. He just wanted the day to end.
"But thats a different story. If you tell me the reason you want a loyalist uniform, I might be inclined to help you get one." he heard behind one of the doors he passed by. He backtracked to the door and stared curiously at it, then pressed his ear to the door. Silence.
What was going on in there? Who wanted a loyalist uniform and for what?
"Well boys, this has been fun. But - I'd better be going. It's clear I wasn't following you. So..." That was a woman's voice. He heard footsteps from the other side and quickly backed up, but they were cut short, followed by another voice.
"I don't think so, you see, you've witnessed this transaction. So you're in, or you're dead." That instantly set him on alert. He slowly drew his revolver. He had been considered old fashioned, growing up as he did with modern knights. A woman in distress he would always help. There was a moment of silence, then the same voice spoke again, with an air of slight malevolency.
"I think you just agreed."
'Yes I did,' he thought as he positioned himself next to the doorknob.
About addition #23: By: Admiral.Small Added: Wed, 12/23/2009 @ 11:21amSize: 1,288 Characters
Ark crouched and aimed at the door. He wasnt surprised to see that Vargo and Adara had also grabbed whatever cover was available. Standing in the door was a single man, holding what looked like a revolver. Ark didn't hear or see anyone else, and he didn't hear anything from downstairs, so it probably wasn't a police raid or anything of the sort. But that didn't worry Ark. What did worry him, was the fact that he had one shot and the guy in the door looked like he knew what he was doing. Of course Vargo had a weapon too, but Ark couldn't really count on him. After all he didn't know his intentions.
There was an uneasy silence for a few seconds, and the man in the door finally took his first step into the room.
About addition #24: By: pamjay Added: Fri, 12/25/2009 @ 12:09amSize: 1,740 Characters
Adara, realising this man was an aid to her, not a hinderance - released herself from Vargo's now distracted, and loosened grip, and stood tall.
"I thank you, sir. I am not, quite, the captured - but your help is most appreciated." She lowered her head in respect.
"What was," Silas corrected himself, "what is, the situation here?"
Ark stood, idiotically assuming this man was a loyalist like he. "I'm Ark, I too, thank you for your help. It is pleasant to think that loyalists are always willing to help in an, uncomfortable, to say the least - situation."
"I'm not a loyalist." Silas stated coldly.
Ark looked shocked, then a faint red shimmer of embarrasment crossed his cheeks before he stepped backwards and sank onto the floor.
"Who are you then?" Adara asked casually, certain she was at least in the safety zone.
"I am Silas." he pointed his gun at Ark, and indicated for him to move next to Vargo.
"I'm Adara. Can I leave?" she was anxious to be away from these men.
"Unfortunately, I don't think that's possible. You can soon, but wait until I get the story from these men."
Adara sighed restlessly, this was shaping up to be a long-winded night in a bar.
About addition #25: By: Flaw Added: Sat, 12/26/2009 @ 5:45pmSize: 2,440 Characters
"So, who the hell are you?" The mohawk-headed man motioned with his gun at Vargo.
Vargo assessed the man.
The service revolver was police issue, but the haircut was far from standard. A mercenary perhaps? And where was the police badge? Coming into a loyalist bar was a pretty brave move for any EPP man. No, he was not a cop. Maybe he had bought the gun on the black market, or maybe killed its original owner.
That was a sobering thought.
Then again, the knowledge that the man had no backup was invigorating. Afterall, he was just one man.
"My name is Vargo," said Vargo, tensing his grip on the gun he held in plain sight. "You've just interrupted our business,"
"Business? It sounded to me like this woman was here against her will. Isn't that right...Adara?" The man was controlled and his gunhand did not waver.
Adara nodded eagerly; she just wanted to get out of there now.
Somehow, for some unknown reason, that stung Vargo. How quickly life turned on its head. Minutes ago, he had been a savior. Now he was an agressor, an enemy; his role, his valient altruism, usurped by this 'policeman'.
Vargo chanced his arm and lifted his gun to settle on the man's chest.
The atmosphere of the room changed. It was as though a seal on an airlock had been breached, like any warmth, sound, comfort had been sucked out, to be replaced by the cold, unforgivingness of space.
The two mens' eyes were locked in a deathly still gaze. Neither moved a muscle.
Ark, next to Vargo, gulped at the standoff. Adara looked lost and confused. Once again, the gun in her hand was calling for her to make a decision.
'So this was it then,' thought Ark, 'a four-way massacre'. In such a small space, there was a no chance of missing. The rest of the EPP would put it down as a textbook, 'you do me, I do you' suicide pact. No, he had life in his blood. And enough of his blood had already been spilled on this dingy, grey little room.
He put away his one-shot and stepped, with conviction, between the gunmen. Intersecting death, his heart quibbled.
He mustered the strongest voice he could find, deep down in the bravest fraction of his soul and spoke:
About addition #26: By: pamjay Added: Thu, 01/14/2010 @ 7:43pmSize: 1,686 Characters
He glanced warily at the two guns, one facing towards him, held expertley in the hand of Silas and the other aimed directly at his spine, held by Vargo.
"Explain to me, and cut out the lies. I don't have the time nor the patience." Silas instructed, impressed by the mans unwilling bravery.
"This girl," Ark indicated towards Adara "Had been following me. I saw her come into this bar, pressed a gun to her back and forced her into this room. Drastic, I know. But in times like these, a loyalist can never be too careful. She overpowered me, " he winced, paritally from embarrasment, and partially because the deep wound in his ankle was throbbing with him standing, "and Vargo came in. He needs a loyalist uniform, and Adara here for some reason wanted in on the transaction. When she changed her mind though, Vargo and I prevented her from leaving. Obviously our transaction is not in the interests of the new government, and so, us not knowing her well enough to trust her - had to force her to stay."
Silas nodded. "It does sound plausible. Adara?"
"Its true," she nodded.
"Why did you change your mind?"
She looked directly at Vargo, her eyes burning with dissapointment.
"I remembered 'the times' we are in. And how helping someone, is no longer a question of morality, but a question of being bothered. And I realised, I wasn't bothered."'
About addition #27: By: Flaw Added: Fri, 01/15/2010 @ 3:21pmSize: 2,006 Characters
Needless to say, he was not amused at this new developement. Guns on top of guns. In any other circumstances, he would have quickly walked away from the situation. But this needed to be done. He wanted off this planet.
In uncanny unison, Vargo and Silas holstered their pistols.
Ark breathed a shallow sigh of relief.
"Mr Ark, I have a job for you," said Vargo, coughing slightly. Beneath his heavy coat, the others caught the sallow face of a man not well of body or soul. "A job only a loyalist can do. A job befitting your forgotten friend; honour. If you're not up to it, there are hundreds of your kind in drinking holes like this." And with that, Vargo, passed Silas and descended the stairs.
The ball lay in Ark's court now. Silas looked at him warily. Was there some kind of felony being committed here?
"So what's it to be?" he said. Ark looked sheepish, a young boy under the scrutiny of his parents. He shuffled forwards, head bowed past Silas. He looked up slightly at Adara, inquiring after his gun. She dropped it on the floor and did not enjoy watching him pick it up as much as she had anticipated. He straightened up. With the slight trace of a wince, he looked her straight in the eye.
"I had you wrong, Adara, I apologise."
Then he was gone, limping down the stairs and outside into the night.
Vargo watched Ark stifle his limp as he exited the tavern. Signs of weakness were a dangerous thing at night. For a moment, he wondered what drove the loyalist. He knew words like 'pride' and 'honour' would capture most loyalists attention. But enough to follow a man who had just pointed a gun at him, out into the night, on a mission of no aforementioned reward? Maybe those words did still mean something to Arktheleon.
About addition #28: By: Lord Raith Added: Sun, 01/17/2010 @ 2:14amSize: 3,198 Characters
She was very pretty; a whole lot prettier than any other women he had met here. She was easy on the eyes, and smelled faintly of seawater and seaweed, meaning she wasn't completely human. Which was fine with Silas; he wasn't completely human himself. His heart filled with a sensation he hadn't felt in a while. He inhaled sharply, and her eyes snapped back to him, wary. Apparently he was as easy to read as an open book, for she quickly stepped out the room without a word. He could hear her footsteps down the stairs.
He sighed and repeated the same gesture as before, running his hand through his mowhawk and along the side of his face. He took a seat in a chair in the corner and pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Ai mi, por que?" he said to himself. He looked to the open doorway of the dimly lit second floor, deep in thought. He needed a vacation. Or something new. He looked over towards the battered dresser of the room, then abruptly sprang up and jogged to his room. He entered and geared up, strapping the webbing and loading his assault rifle. He snatched the gas mask off the bed and rushed down the stairs after locking his room. He ignored the abrupt silence his abnormal behaviour caused, and ran out the doors. Though he wasn't neccesarily looking for her, Adara was nowhere in sight.
Looking left and right, his keen night-eyes spotted Ark and Vargo down the road, and he sprinted towards them. They both spun at the sound of his footsteps, hands nearly simultaneously resting on their sidearms. They hesistated when they recognized him.
"Hold up cowboys I'm coming with you." He said once he had caught up with them.
"Says who?" Ark asked, puzzled. Vargo's faced showed nothing, but a sense of irritation flashed across his eyes.
"Says me. This whole working for the police thing is driving me nuts. And...." He paused to fit the gas mask over his head and let it dangle around his neck, then pull the goggles up to rest on his forehead. "Places you would need to go in order to find a loyalist uniform should be jammed packed with things to do." Ark was on the verge of speaking, but Silas cut him off.
"Not to mention I do still know what you are. I could always turn you in. I'd be sure to get a raise from arresting a Nova Star winning veteran like yourself."
Silas smiled, a little evilly, and the two men might as well have gone all the way and glared at him. Ark worked his jaw, while Vargo shifted his weight.
'Oh yeah, this is more like it.'
About addition #29: By: Admiral.Small Added: Mon, 01/18/2010 @ 1:02amSize: 679 Characters
About addition #30: By: pamjay Added: Mon, 01/18/2010 @ 1:18amSize: 1,905 Characters
**
Adara watched from the roof of the tavern. The three men walked off together.
She exhaled loudly. This was so, so stupid, for lack of a better word. And yet simulatenously, she felt drawn to them. As if somehow, theyd be able to offer her something she needed. Though she was unsure what yet.
Drawn. The word reminded her of the awkward situation in the room. Silas had looked at her in such a way she wasnt sure whether to punch him for thinking it, or feel flattered for the same reason. So escaping seemed to be the best plan. She was grateful he hadnt followed. A confrontation would only cause her to lose her self-control.
She would follow them, she decided half-heartedly.
If there was any hint of them realising they had someone on their trail, she would turn around and not give them a second thought. But whilst they thought she was young, vulnerable and frightened of them - she may as well see how this ridiculous transaction turned out.
The darkness on Echelon was overwhelming. Syronians have excellent eyesight regardless of the night, but it was not the darkness that made Adara exhale slowly, and cause fear to creep into the depths of her very being. It was that when it was dark, she was not the most able being out there. Nor the most dangerous.
Although there were only few streetlights, enabling humans to see for short distances, she made a mental note to stick with the shadows. The other men were less ruthless, but Vargo, she was not so sure. Her hand moved slowly to the hilt of her dagger, and she pulled it out with that thought. Pouncing off the rooftop and landing silently onto the cemented path next to the front door of the tavern, she began to trail the three men.
About addition #31: By: Flaw Added: Tue, 01/19/2010 @ 11:05amSize: 2,716 Characters
Silas recieved no answer.
The night was still and gloomy, bleak like a man with no hope and an uncertain future.
"So why the Rose?" he asked, this time looking at Ark for an answer. Ark shrugged, pulling his coat round himself tighter. He ankle ached with every step - he hoped it was not deep enough to need stitches afterall. Silas looked at Vargo, who did not look at him back.
"The captain of the Rose is a hedonist," he said, seemingly with no intent of continuing.
"So?" asked Silas. Ark shared his vacant expression.
"He needs money to feed his habits. We don't have money. The government has money. He does their dirty jobs and they give him enough money to keep a smile on his face." Vargo coughed shallowly.
"The bastard," spat Ark, "Its people like him that cost decent people their lives." He simmered quietly at the thought.
From the shadows, Adara heard everything.
It all made sense now. This guy was a government lackey. And what did government lackeys fear? Loyalists. Especially loyalists with guns.
This mission was blackmail.
But to what ends?
Silas mused as they walked. He did not trust Ark, much less Vargo. These men were out for themselves, no more, no less. Was getting involved with them really such a good idea?
His keen eyesight picked out small family of refugees, huddled round a barrel fire a few hundred meters away. They warmed their hands gratefully, sharing round a piece of meat. Pinched from a decomposing rubbish bin or perhaps donated by one of the restaurants.
As an EPP officer, it was his duty to arrest them. Probably to be deported. The port only transported a limited amount of immigrants in per annum - enough that could be catered for. But, of course, there were always stow-aways. People trafficing was big business.
Crime was an industry many could line their pockets with. As the pay for a decent days work went down, the pay for a days criminality went up. And so humanity depreciated.
No.
He was ex-EPP.
Whatever was on the Albert Rose was better than this. A new beginning. Though he knew nothing more, he knew that he did not want to stay.
Afterall, where there was blackmail, there was money...
About addition #32: By: pamjay Added: Sat, 01/30/2010 @ 6:23amSize: 796 Characters
Not from shock, no. The idea that they were blackmailing an already corrupt person was no surprise to her.
The men were merely metres away from her, a gasp of shock was not only uncharacteristic of her, but also incredibly stupid in regards to her precarious situation.
No.
Rather, she gasped from pain, as a strong, tight grip grasped her throat.
"Keep it shut," whispered the voice, haughty and coarse in her ear.
"Loosen it" she spat, the words an effort to release.
As the rough, calloused hand loosened its grip on her throat, she shrieked piercingly. "HELP!"
Her body was thrown to the ground, her head crashing to the stone ground.
About addition #33: By: Flaw Added: Sat, 01/30/2010 @ 8:28amSize: 2,722 Characters
How had she let this happen to her? So enthralled by the mens conversation, she had let her guard down. Maybe for the last time.
Then she heard a voice.
"Stand up and drop the knife. No one needs to die tonight,"
In her bemused state, she could not make out who it was. Then she felt an all new kind of cold - the cold of a steel blade pressed against her throat.
"I'm not gon die," laughed the man, looming above her like a hungry vulture guarding carrion. "Ain't that right boys?"
From the shadows, more men appeared. About half a dozen of them. Each in tattered clothes and with guant, ruthless faces.
Silas was well informed about gang activity. There were hundreds of them operating in every big city of Echelon VI; mugging, raping, stealing, smuggling. Most of the members began as children, born into poor families to which a life of crime was all the world had to offer them.
Vargo, Silas and Ark all looked at the gang down the barrels of their pistols. They trusted their abilities. Or did they?
Silas spoke again.
"Leave her alone. If you want money then you can have it. Just let her go and be on your way."
The ganger pulled Adara roughly to her feet by her throat and laughed.
"Its not yure creds we're afta," he said, his eyes roving over the men, testing them, "it's 'im we want." The man pointed with his knife at Ark. The gang around him wooped and howled a little, all smiling along with their leader.
"You shot one of ma boys today." he said, placing the knife delicately against Adara's throat once again. Shining weapons were beginning to appear in the gang's hands as they closed in around the other men. "He wasn't doin anyone any 'arm. Just tryin to get by. 'E might lose that leg now."
The man was getting red in the face, his teeth gritted together. Ark's blood was running cold, but he did not show it. Vargo assessed the situation again. The odds were not in their favour. The concept of breaking a deal with the gang entered his mind; Ark's uniform and Adara's safety for Ark himself, no questions asked.
No. They would never go for it. This was a gang out for revenge and a trade was not going to be in their best interests.
"So," said Silas, "You wa-"
"Shut it, four-eyes," the man interrupted, "Let the shooter speak,"
About addition #34: By: Lord Raith Added: Sat, 01/30/2010 @ 6:16pmSize: 3,149 Characters
"So," said Silas, "You wa-"
"Shut it, four eyes," the man interrupted, "Let the shooter speak."
Four eyes?
He promptly shot the man through the shoulder joint. His nerveless fingers dropped the knife, and Silas nearly simultaneously followed up his disarming shot with a bullet to the head. Luckily Adara had dropped by that point. He took the second of surprise that went through the rest and shot down the flunkie next to him. The rest rushed them. Silas spun around, hoping to get a shot at at least one of them from behind, but he was too close. Instead he blocked the knife stab with the rifle, yanked him off balance, then rammed the butt of the gun into his face, sending him sprawling back. The other tackled him to the ground. He wrestled with the man on the ground, grabbing a hold of the arm with the knife. With his strength, the punch to the man's jaw sent him rolling over. A gunshot rang out, and Silas looked over in Vargo's direction. The scarred mercenary had his pistol point blank at his assailiant's lower jaw, and had blown a hole through the back of his head. The second man from before jammed his knife into Silas' back, puncturing enough of the armor to stab into his back. He yelled in pain, and hit him in the face with his armoured elbow. Reaching back, he yanked the knife out turned his gaze around just as Vargo fired again. He took the man in the gut, then fired twice more, hitting him in the chest. Silas looked back at Vargo, nodding his thanks, then snapped his head back around as Ark finished off the last gang member with a bullet to the head.
"All right. Not exactly the way we probably wanted it to go, but it worked." Silas said as he picked himself up. Retrieving his rifle, he noticed the man he had struck in the face on the ground, crawling away weakly. He made to shoot him, but Adara brought the gun down.
"No. He doesn't need to die."
"If he doesn't, he might think of getting a couple more buddies around to help. Should've thought twice about coming around." Silas said and moved her out of the way, putting three rounds into the man's back, who twitched once and went still. "Now, how did you end up right behind us? Following us?" he asked her, smirking.
Her face wiped the smirk from his face. She stared at the body for a moment, then locked him with her green eyes. She exuded anger and sadness, especially directed towards him, and he was actually taken aback by her reaction.
'Oh perfecto stupid. Another genius move.' he thought.
About addition #35: By: Admiral.Small Added: Sat, 01/30/2010 @ 9:25pmSize: 2,306 Characters
Ark could tell that there was some sort of tension between Adara and Silas, but he could care less. If he were luckey, they would attack each other and distract Vargo long enough for him to get away. But Arks' luck had never been that good, so he doubted that anything would go in his favor for sometime.
"Well. I dont know about the rest of you, but Im tired, so Im going to get some rest." Ark said to the group, as he made a sharp left turn. "I would like to get this business wraped up as soon as possible." Vargo said, sounding slightly annoyed. "So would I, but to get you a loyalist uniform, we need to make a trip to Sivers City. And that will most likely take a few days, and I can get us transport, tommorro." Ark informed Vargo.
"Why cant we just get a loyalist uniform in this city?" Vargo asked. "Because, no loyalist would ever part with his or her uniform while they were still alive. And I will NOT allow you too kill a loyalist while Im alive. But in Sivers City, there is quite a large collection of uniforms, amoung other things." Ark said as he stopped in front of a metal door. There was a small lock combination slapped on the handle. Without letting anyone else see the combination, Ark entered it in, and opened the door with a shove.
The door opened to reviel a small room with a few bunks, a table, and a weapons locker. "What is this place?" Adara asked the question on everyones mind. "Echileon Army Civil Guard Station 275-A87." Ark informed her as he shut the door after Silas entered. Without waiting, Ark walked over to a bunk and laid down. He was asleep in a matter of seconds.
About addition #36: By: pamjay Added: Sat, 01/30/2010 @ 10:06pmSize: 1,508 Characters
She winced and her fingers slided across. The red marks would be hideous.
Her eyes surveyed the room carefully, memorising every detail.
Three bunks made up the most promintent features of the room, made from metal and welded to the floor, they not only looked uninviting, but also pointed out one blatant fact.
There were four of them, and only three places to sleep.
Ark was already lost in his dreams, and Vargo had set camp up in the bed furthermost from everyone else.
Adara sighed, and slumped into the uncomfortable seat beside the kitchen space, burrowing her head into her arms resting on the table.
Silas looked over her, his brow furrowing in uncertainty.
"Take the bunk, Adara."
"No," she turned her head and looked at him, her eyes wide, "You saved me, and you didnt have to. Sleep well, Silas."
He blinked in shock at the pleasure he found himself experiencing at hearing his name slip from her lips.
"I insist -" he began, prepared to argue, but as he looked at her, she had already fallen asleep.
He lifted her slender body in his arms and put her on the stiff bunk.
"It's the best I can do," he muttered, surveying the uncomfortable bed. "But at least its better than the chair."
About addition #37: By: Flaw Added: Sun, 01/31/2010 @ 10:44amSize: 1,666 Characters
We've got ourselves our very own action hero.
It should never have been a gunfight, but, as with many things in the system nowadays, violence was seen as the acceptable answer. Just a few more bodies for the rats to eat.
The guard station was cramped and smelled of damp. Like a nuclear bunker; built for purpose not for pleasure. But still, a bed was a bed and Silvers was a long way away.
Vargo racked his brain to recall the place. It had been years since he had been on Echelon VI and now all he wanted to do was leave again, not trail around after a trigger-happy, goggle-wearing cop and a loyalist with more guts than brains.
He wondered why they were still alive.
He could easily have put a bullet into Ark and ended this whole cherade before it began. And Silas, well; he could have let the ganger cut him to ribbons with that knife. But Adara...
Vargo's eyes began to drop slightly as he thought about the situation he was in.
Thought of the solutions which should not be, but were popping into his head.
Thought of the bootknife he carried, solid and shining, in his boot. Thought of the puncture wound he could make to the roof of Silas' skull. Of the deathly silence that would follow. And then of more blood as Ark would gurgle his passing into death.
It would get him the uniform afterall.
As his eyes finally closed and sleep took over, the dark deeds drifted into the void of unconsciousness. How many terrible acts had been spared in history due to pure fatigue?
About addition #38: By: Lord Raith Added: Mon, 02/1/2010 @ 12:22amSize: 4,292 Characters
It wasn't that anything in the bunker was too uncomfortable for him to sleep on. Sleeping in a tent on the hard ground of Evenal winter was not something anyone, not even a Evenali, would want to experience. Something else was keeping him. Multiple things actually, but one thing foremost.
Adara.
It surprised him that she affected him so. Her looks were striking. her demeanour and reactions always seem to catch him off guard. He couldn't help but glance in her direction ever so often, drawn to her as he was. When he had moved her over from the chair to the stiff pallet, he had almost not let her go, content to just hold her.
Then there was the incident. It was a bonehead move, he knew it. Dangerous too. But once again the thought of Adara in trouble, coupled with the unusual offensive he took to the ganger's remark, had felled them all into a quick but brutal combat. Her reaction to the heartless execution he had perfomed on the downed ganger had hurt him worse than the knife wound. He hadn't the voice to say sorry. He had hoped his eyes would, but she had barely paid him the slightest attention as they had made their way to the hidden post. He slapped his head in shame.
And there was Vargo. He didn't need to see the man to tell that he was losing more and more patience with Silas' antics. He glanced over at the man, who slept soundly on his bunk, like any good soldier could. Even from this distance he could pick out the faint trace of anger and caution that the scarred merc exuded ever so often. Truth be told Silas didn't trust the man as much as he disliked Silas. He was of the type that had an unaturally cold outlook on life, colder than you could even teach a warrior. Whatever he had gone through had turned him into something more of a monster than a man. He had been willing to exploit Adara for his own selfish gains. That was enough for Silas' disposition of him, and silently snarled in his direction, baring the fangs his sub-race had gifted him with. He would keep an eye out on that one.
Silas shook himself from his brooding and decided to search for something to eat. He raided the kitchen space as quietly as he could and found little: a few MRE's and box of bottled water.
"Eh, It'll have to do." he whispered to himself and he cautiously opened the tin and dug in. He guzzled down the water, his back throbbing more and more so until he decided to finally take care of the wound. He tried his best to sneak through to the bathroom, snatching off his shoes after they had almost awoken Ark, grabbed a fresh pair of clothes from his pack, and sock-footed the rest of way there.
A shower, change of clothes and a rummaging through the first aid cabinet later, he stowed his armour away at the foot of Adara's bed. He grabbed a towel, his guns and his pack and tip-toed to the table again, wincing as the heavy bag made a little noise as he set it down. Spreading the towel over the small table, he pulled out his cleaning kits and began to strip down and clean the revolver and the rifle. He fell asleep halfway through cleaning the bolt of the assault rifle.
_ _ _ _ _
Silas awoke with a small start. he was still at the table, bolt in one hand, cloth in the other. The others were still asleep. He wasn't surprised. Just one of his small curses he had to live with. About the time he joined the Evenal Milita, he had experiencing bouts of sleeplessness. He couldn't sleep right anymore. Had he gone to bed early, he would wake up repeatedly throughout the night. Whenever he had gone to sleep last night must've been late, maybe even into the next day, as he had awoken early, before dawn, which was the norm.
He yawned and slowly put the rifle and revolver back together and put his things away, folding the towel and laying it on top of the pack. he looked over at the weapons locker. 'Something in there maybe.' he thought to himself. There looked to be a simple lock, nothing a good kick or so wouldn't fix, but it was too early. He made himself content with waiting for the others to wake which, judging by who he was with, shouldn't be long.
About addition #39: By: pamjay Added: Sat, 02/6/2010 @ 6:06amSize: 1,927 Characters
She didn't open her eyes, rather just pricked her ears a little to listen to the noise around her.
Snoring.
Coming from her left.
Ark.
But, when she fell asleep last night she was on the chair, and Ark was across the room almost directly in front of her.
Which meant -
She raised her arm, and slid it across the metal bench she slept on.
The bunk.
A soft, fabric roll was underneath her head - which would explain the neckache.
She smelt it.
Silas.
She felt her eyes prickle, and a light wetness coat them.
She'd thought him a cold hearted murderer, and yet, he'd offered an almost-stranger his bed and comfort.
He'd protected her, twice.
Was it possible for someone to be both sharing, and murderous?
Could she despise his actions, and appreciate them?
The thoughts being far to complicated for an early morning, she shook them away and focused on the sounds of the room.
Footsteps started, and quickly stopped short at her bed.
"Adara" a hesitant, gruff voice startled her.
She opened her eyes immediately, to the familiar glare of Vargo.
"Good morning" she said sweetly, a sarcastic undertone to her voice.
He nodded briefly, had she blinked she would have missed his acknowledgement. As she rose she watched him kick Ark's bed, and watched the poor man stutter himself awake.
"Get ready Ark, Adara." Silas said nonchalantly. "We're going."
Silas' dismissive tone stung Adara.
How could he be so apathetic, after such previous kindness was bewildering to her.
But then, she had never been a very comprehensive morning person.
About addition #40: By: Flaw Added: Sat, 02/6/2010 @ 11:08amSize: 3,352 Characters
The wind was gentle and the streets were quiet. Somewhere a few streets away, somebody was cooking something, the sickly-sweet smell drifting through the slums to pitilessly tease the starving.
The streetlights were just beginning to automatically shut down as the group reached the PortStreetMetro - the public transport station which would take them to across the city to the outskirts on the other side. From there, Ark assured them, there was a 'direct route to Silvers...if you don't mind a bumpy ride'.
Ugh, I hate riding the metro.., sighed Adara. Her people were of fresh air, cool water and the space. Here there was none of those things, only filth and claustrophobia.
They ascended the steel stairway up to the platform thirty feet above their heads. They did not bother to hide their weapons as they passed the four EPP guards; no weapons were allowed in the metro, but it thesedays it was far too much effort to confiscate each one. Much better for the EPP to be ornamental - a throwback to when peacekeeping agents actually kept the peace. Now they were just there to look imposing and keep an eye on things. Besides, in the cramped conditions of the metro, a gun would be impossible to pull on anyone. A knife was far more dangerous.
They piled into the already packed compartment that was, in fact, more like a prison cell than real prison cells. Bars on the windows, no seats, no furniture. An automatic camera, about the size of a thimble, was screwed into the corner of the compartment. Whether anyone was watching it or not was anybodies guess.
Adara found herself crushed next to a window, sandwiched between Vargo and Silas. About a hundred people were crushed in alongside them in the space which could not be more than 5 metres by 2 metres, and it was not even rush hour yet. There was a monumentous crunching thud - everyone in the carriage tensed in unison for the inevitable fall to their doom - but then the carriage pulled away. Had they been able to see behind them, they would have seen another uniform carriage slot into place instantaneously at the station.
The stench of hot bodies was unbearable. There were no windows, just a tiny air conditioning unit on ceiling, feeding recycled, stagnant air to the masses. And this was a journey which would take almost an hour.
Nobody spoke. The carriage was silent bar the enormous racket of metal sliding against metal as the metro slipped along its tracks. Like a packet of cigarettes purchased from a vending machine, traversing the machinery inside before falling into that all-controlling pair of hands.
Adara looked out between the bars. From this high, it was hard to make out people on the surface. She supposed that once upon a time, there might have been a nice view. But now, it was all grey and black and smoke. And towering high rise buildings, like guards watching over the metro and its contents. Or watching fate play out in front of them and laughing at the injustice of it all.
About addition #41: By: Flaw Added: Fri, 02/26/2010 @ 12:49pmSize: 3,927 Characters
Vargo was beginning to think this was not such a good idea. Meeting loyalists and having them reliquish their prized uniforms? It did not seem very likely, given their repuation as staunch warriors. And, worse still, it gave Ark the upper hand. One wrong word from him and he could have them all killed. Perhaps that was is. He was leading them to their doom.
"What now?" asked Vargo, watching passively as the rest of the passengers made their weary way down the steps to the ground below.
"Now, we wait," Ark said, slumping down against the cold seat of a metal bench.
"Wait?" repeated Adara, sitting down next to him, "Wait for what?"
"Wait," he said, exasperated "for a friend of mine." No further explanation was given, but the three others exchanged looks as Ark stretched himself out comfortably on the bench, a smug half-smile on his face. They were in his domain now and he knew it.
Hours passed. Skyrail carriages came and went, each bringing a new wave of blank, emotionless faces. It was approaching midday and the sun was high and hot in the sky. The air was humid and still. A solar powered digital clock, with a crack down the screen, showed the time and a light to its side flicked from green to red. The Metro was on its hours break.
For years, eco-campaigners had fought the Skyrails construction, the pollution is was and would cause would devastate the planets atmosphere. But, of course, the fatcats up in their shining glass palaces cared only for profits.
When it was first construed, the skyrail was a private transport mechanism for moving VIPs quickly about the area. However, within weeks of its unveiling, a major engineering flaw would result in the fatal crashes (or should that be, falls) of multiple Skyrail carriages, resulting in over a hundred deaths.
The company blamed Eco-terrorists and the media had a field day. Whatever the case, the government was having none of it - desperate for popularity, they liquidated the company and nationalised the transport system. Free to ride for the public; the new 'Metro' transport system was a stunning success. And in compromise with the ecologists, the government promised a one hour 'maintenance' break a day, where the system was shut off for a period. It was not much, but it was taken none the less.
The platform was finally deserted. Ark talked quietly with Adara, whilst Silas sat on the edge of the platform, looking down over the side, for this 'friend' of Ark's. Vargo was taking the pain medication he took everyday. He swallowed the small handful of pills dry, lamenting that he had long since run out of intravenous injectors.
"Do you trust him?" asked Silas, peering over his shoulder at the taller man. Vargo looked at him squarely and said nothing.
"Do you trust anyone?" implored Silas.
"Should I?"
Silas studied his goggles. Mistrust was a vice which affected everyone and not without good cause.
"All I know is," he said, "people die everyday out here on the outskirts. Hundreds. Thousands maybe. We're alone out here Vargo; theres no EPP, no watchmen, no nothing. If we're gonna survive, we're gonna have to stick together."
Vargo half smiled and Silas could not work out if it was sincere or sarcastic.
"Here he comes," said Vargo, pointing over Silas's head to the ground beyond.
About addition #42: By: Lord Raith Added: Tue, 03/9/2010 @ 1:27amSize: 1,548 Characters
Silas slipped the goggles on as the daylight began to blind him. Able to see clearly now, he could make out the figure that they guessed to be Ark's friend. He was average height and lean, with short black hair and skin tanned by exposure to the system's sun. He was identical in clothing to Ark from the waist down, but the waist up was covered in a olive green tank top and a pine green sleeveless vest. Silas suddenly felt a little out of place in his white Evenali armour, sticking out of the ragtag group like a strange, sore thumb. he stepped over to Ark and Adara and tapped Ark's shoulder, interrupting their conversation, then pointed towards the approaching man.
"That the guy?"
"Yep." Ark said and stood up to go greet the newcomer. Suddenly his face seemed familiar, like Silas had seen it before....
Antonio DeVanio. He recognized the smirk anywhere. Instinctively he began to bring his rifle to bear, ready to arrest the known criminal, but he stopped himself short at muscles tensing. He wasn't EPP anymore; no more a grunt to be run around to do their dirty work. He was with Ark and Adara, and Vargo. He'd follow them, forget the EPP and their damned police.
'This is getting harder than I thought' Silas thought as Ark introduced Antonio DeVanio.
About addition #43: By: Admiral.Small Added: Wed, 03/10/2010 @ 7:59pmSize: 1,833 Characters
"Well thanks for meeting me anyway. Let me introduce you to everyone else." Ark said gesturing to the others. "Antonio, this is Silas. Silas, Antonio DeVanio." Ark greeted the two. They nodded to each other.
"And this is Vargo, they guy who needs a uniform." Antonio took in every detail of Vargo, and Vargo did the same. After a few silent seconds of silently evaluating each other, Antonio held out his hand. "Nice to meet you. We'll talk about your uniform once we get out of the suburbs and into open country." He said, his voice low, but just loud enough to be heard over the bustle of movement around them.
"And lastley, this is Adara." Ark said. Antonio saw a small bruise on Adaras cheek. "What happened too you?" He asked, holding out his hand. Ark looked to the ground in-shame. "Commissar Akinsons information retrevial trainning." He mumbled.
"Akinson was a harsh bastard. I'm just glad I didnt have too serve under him." Antonio said with disgust. "But that is beside the point. We need to get to Sivers city ASAP. Operation Avalanche is going to kick off soon. Lets go." Antonio said and started walking off.
Vargo shot Ark a venomus look, Ark shruged, not having any idea what Operation Avalanche was. "Just another delay." Ark said, not really concerned.
About addition #44: By: pamjay Added: Sat, 03/13/2010 @ 6:36pmSize: 1,848 Characters
"Commissar Akinsons information-retrevial training." mumbled Ark, as if that were explanation enough.
The bruise was the least of her worries. Her head was still pounding from the night before. Standing seemed enough effort, without the thought of the long walk ahead.
"Just another delay" she heard Ark weakly explain.
His incompetence was starting to annoy her.
The mismatched group began the walk, Ark and Antonio striding ahead. She stood behind Antonio, and although his glancing back, feigning concern, made her uncomfortable - it was nothing compared to the uncomfort of walking with Vargo and Silas.
She could tell they was some conspiracy between them, but for the first time - she decided to let it go.
Curiosity had got her stuck in this mess, she wasn't about to make it worse for herself.
Lost in thought, she hardly noticed when Antonio slipped back into step with her.
He held out his hand once more, and after her initial start, she shook it lightly.
"I didn't introduce myself earlier," he smiled, but the expression didn't reach his eyes - he was insincere; "I'm Antonio."
"Adara" she said softly, and pulled her hand abruptly away.
She felt the eyes of Vargo and Silas upon her, but did not turn around. Rather, she flashed a smile at Antonio and decided simultaneously to make things alot easier for herself.
Antonio smiled at the eager response she gave him, and started small talk.
She laughed, occasionally touching his shoulder or arm - leading him on.
About addition #45: By: Flaw Added: Sun, 03/14/2010 @ 1:58pmSize: 1,588 Characters
"Who is he?" asked the gruff voice of Vargo. Silas scowled harder, his eyes boring into the back of Antonio's head as it bobbed happily upon his shoulders.
"A smuggler. Not above killing people who get in his way either. Of course, its all in the name of the loyalist cause." Silas said ruefully.
"Anybody can wear the clothes of a martyr..." Vargo coughed. His pain killers were wearing off. Silas scoffed.
"Martyr?" he lowered his voice to an impassioned whisper "They're as bad as all the rest. If they ever had a noble cause it died along with this places humanity."
Antonio looked back over his shoulder, to which Silas gave him a sardonic smile.
"You gentleman ok?" asked Antonio. Without waiting for a reply he turned back and continued his conversation with Adara, who was practically linking arms with the man.
"I don't like him," confided Silas. Vargo remained impassive and said nothing. Nothing would be gained from goading on Silas. Besides, he disliked Silas as much as the rest of them.
"Strange guys," smirked Antonio, turning back to Adara, "quite a colourful band you've got together." Adara just smiled. Antonio, uninhibited, carried on. "What brings you all together if you don't mind me asking?"
"Coincidence," said Adara, halting that line of questioning. She snuggled up a bit closer to Antonio, somehow aware of the mens' eyes on her back. "So, Antonio, tell me about yourself..."
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