Fantasy Action Adventure Scifi A Growing Menace - *Any Character, Any Genre*

[Hekazu]

Would he be comfortable with another person in the bathing space? "The time when I had the habit to think twice about whether such arrangements would be proper passed long since. On the ship I had before Poltroon's Regret such luxuries as 'privacy' were unheard of. I still wonder at times how the others found it within themselves to ignore the fact much like I did. Perhaps they pitied the poor captain. Or they were, simply put, zailors", he mused, making it more or less clear that Zava wouldn't need to worry for him. And as far as the bathing itself went, there were no real incidents involved. Rochdale did ask her to double check the site for the tattoo on his good leg would be clean enough, but even if it was not he would manage it without further assistance.

"It's funny, Lilac didn't seem to care much for the cleanliness. Still nothing went bad about it. I wonder how she did it, in hindsight…" Rochdale murmured mostly to himself. "Though perhaps the name whispered of her among the insane, the Queen of Inks… perhaps it may explain. I never fell deep enough to meet that side of her. It was all calculated. I did scar myself, but none of that can be seen past the vines and thorns." It seemed he was now reminiscing unprompted more often than before. But nonetheless, he did need a design to commemorate his vessel specifically. And that needed a certain description.

"Let's leave the sky dark. The false stars were never really too bright. Add a few bats against the background, if possible. Some lights on the steamer, but most importantly the beacon shining straight ahead. Maybe we should take this from the surface of the water towards the bow of the ship. What do you think?" he inquired, the preliminary design slowly building in his head.

 

[Fatal Nymph]

The bath was quite and relaxing. She made sure to help if he asked and was in general a kind and caring person. When Rochdale brought up the cleanliness issue, she herself knew what needed to be said but for the moment let him ramble on.

It took a but but her pen and glass square were like a pen and paper. She was drawing and shading as he spoke. His vision coming more and more alive with ever time he made a new mention. With a flip of her pad a few times showing him a picture that was there a moment before, Zava was getting a view of what was in his mind. Finally when things were settled, she looked to him. "What I am doing is worth more credits than what Joopis gave you. Not to mention the inks that I think would make it come together would certainly add to that tab. But if I know anything about you, its that you'll want it done right and to the best of my abilities. Hence the bath. I can tattoo on dirty skin and under just about every condition, but if I am going to give it my all, I will make the conditions as best that I can."

The anthro wore something comfortable a solid black loose silk crop top that exposed a shoulder, and a set of sweat like shorts. None of her tattoos covered or at least not fully covered, but to Zava. This was so much apart of herself, she barely took notice.

With that she began to uncover her tools. Her hands were gloved. Everything was sterile and clean. The female motioned for Rochdale to lay down where he would be comfortable. Without any more words the tattooing pen began to vibrate and a very low blue light. As she worked, her eyes would catch the glimpse of vines and dried blood. The artwork began take on life even as she worked on it a part at a time.

 

[Hekazu]

Rochdale recoiled as the worth of the job was mentioned to him, his eyes widening at the idea that a tattoo could cost such an amount of currency. "Ah. Then I-" he was about to call the thing off, considering the fact that he wouldn't have the means to pay it back easily, but apparently Zava was not deterred by this information and simply moved closer to him, the gloves brushing against him and the pen digging into his skin. It was a familiar feeling, but simultaneously different from Lilac's tools.

"I take it you have already thought of how I will be paying you back", he suggested, seemingly not reacting to the discomfort from the process. "After all, I don't know much of the means to make money, when everything starts with me leaving this theatre of a plane behind me. Do you think they might have something at the guild hall that can show me the way out and be paid in another location just as well?" It would make things slightly difficult for the arrangement unless he could pay from one job alone, considering this was rather clearly her main place of accommodation.

The question asked, Rochdale turned to observe a Zava for a reaction in turn, and in the meantime also made note of a few of her own tattoos. Naturally not indicative of her own skill, what with only a lunatic tattooing their own skin, but they still spoke their own tales of her likes and possibly memories much like each of his tattoos were. The few best in view were on her thigh and arm, so they ended up being scanned a little more than the others. Though he was not staring, if she had time to look to the side she would not be hard pressed to notice.

 

[Fatal Nymph]

A very calm and concentrated face met his gaze. Her golden hued eyes staring at his skin currently before a brief glance to the table which was being held in place, suspended in air above a disk. "You can work for me when you have time and I have zero fears of losing you if you thought that you owing me might slip through the cracks. Not that you seem that kind of person."

The easiest tattoo to see was the one on her leg. Where the fur stopped one could see cogs, wheels, intricate metal pieces. It was like looking through a fully mechanical leg and the longer one looked the eyes played tricks as though the piece was actually moving parts. It moved into a space nubula of colors and the darker reaches of the stars. There too one could loose themself in the space, the more you looked the more there was too see, though this one didnt seem to have movement, just depth beyond what space there was. That ended around her knee where a unusual tribal band was. The markings extremely abstract and it was easy to see that it was an old method as any ink was raised like on scar tissue.

One he might remember clearly was the piece down her back or rather pieces. What looked to be her back having been shattered, there was pieces that had images in them, some items, some people, all still frames of something. A couple looked 3D, one looked like liquid silver, another sparkled, each one different and easy to see done by different artists. There was still so much more open space as well, each piece done randomly to make it look like it wasn't meant to be all filled. Though only bits of it could be seen when she was hunkered into her work.

There was a band on her lower arm right below her elbow which may or may not have been an omen to Rochdale, it was a band of burning roses with smoke trailing up her arm and eventually vanishing amongst her skin. Below was a gold scroll that was two inches thick and nothing below.

Her white hair fell forward and didnt seem to bother her as she continued to work, her chest pressing into his side becoming a bit personal but not noticing.

 

[Hekazu]

Much like his tattoos, Zava's hardly revealed many truths about their carrier in the wild. Further insight into their symbolism was needed, something that Rochdale's mementos were less obscure about. Then again, he believed himself to need the more direct symbols of a time that was in order to retain the history of his exploits. He'd not come to be able to tell how obscuring them beneath symbolism would go, but he also believed it not to be something he'd want to test out. Yet the most peculiar of them all had to be the patchwork.

It could not be one whole. Unless its specific message was that it was not to be a whole, there could be no meaning he could discern from it, which might as well mean he had discerned the symbolism behind the works on the canvas. Even if he saw more of it, he believed not for this assessment to change.

But then again, there was the matter of work. "For now, I have nothing but", he addressed the need to have time to work for her. "It makes me wonder what kind of adventures might be ahead and how many skin-bound memories I will further indebt myself with down that road." Beyond that, should there not be further conversation, he'd settle down again and allow Zava to focus on her work, apparently paying little mind to how close she might get to him.

 

[Fatal Nymph]

Zava was capable of talking while working, though she preferred the soft buzz of her tool and the comfortable silence that was. Rochdale's words probably should have been responded to but the anthro stayed silent and worked. Time slipped by as she worked paying attention to his skin and the vines from the roses. Zava unaware of really anything other than her work finally came away from the male. "As much as you can probably take more. I can feel myself starting to stiffen and needing to stretch, besides sleep is always needed. As far as working with me goes. I can get you started with a solid job first, or if you prefer when my next adventure comes along and takes me. I'll let you think on that." The female then stood up amd stretched before cleaning her tools and putting away everything to cover it up once more under a cloth.

Zava pulled out what was assumed to a form of communication as she was tapping at the glass before responding a bit. A hand came down to her rump before sliding over and down pulling her tail out of the way as she sat down upon the bed. "If you want the spare bed there, I'm more than happy to have you stay with me, as long as I don't disturb you with my own presence. I know a few people find my species unethical or disgusting." Her eyes never left the glass, "And I promise I don't find you in any way unattractive." After a moment she froze and looked up to the captain for his reaction as she began to stammer. "I meant... I was trying... It was meant in good faith." Her cheeks flushed and her eyes suddenly down cast. "I'm sorry, I didnt mean to cause discomfort." After the reactions earlier to the gate procedure she really wasn't certain how to interact with the captain.

 

[Hekazu]

Zava eventually stopping seemed to lift Rochdale out of some kind of stupor, one that he attempted to brush out of his eyes with his bad hand. His fingertips rubbed on the eyelids as he begun to lift himself up, not protesting the idea of her stopping for now. "How far along is it?" he asked, lacking a clear view to it not the least thanks to the numerous vines she had had to work around. How she phrased herself, it sounded like there was still work to be done on it, but naturally he might need some time to heal from this phase just as well. Lilac had always done her work in a single sitting, so he had to admit this was something new to consider. "As for the jobs, anything that gets me out of this place", he reminded with a wag of his tracking bracelet. "A man is privileged to the privacy of his thoughts." In addition to the many other things he despised about this supposed utopia, but that was neither here or there.

When she spoke of her own species and how some people found them disgusting, Rochdale blinked very, very slowly as if his complete indifference to her nonhuman appearance hadn't been made wholly clear now. But once the real reason, or supposed anyway, for her mild panic begun to come to view, he raised his chin and opened his mouth slightly ajar, a vocalisation of recognition escaping his lips as a similar glint of understanding flashed in those deep black eyes of his. "I understand. You'll have to excuse me being distant, I have not regained my soul since the last conversation", he attempted to make a joke to lighten the mood up a bit, "but that is the reason why. Not because of you." Again he reached for his face with the fingers of the bad hand, this time running them along the left side of the bridge of his nose for a brief few moments. "And thanks to it, you'll find it very difficult to cause me discomfort. Or comfort. But I do appreciate the sentiment." He looked at her a moment longer, up and down her body for a brief second to really consider what others would find so concerning about it, locking to her eyes afterwards. He wanted to see how she would react to his news, more details about what it meant to live as he did. Would she find him disgusting in turn? She would not be the first. He didn't fear such judgement. Or would she retain her fascination? Somehow he thought that to be the more likely outcome.

 

[Fatal Nymph]

His words were comfortable to hear and even understandable. She didnt like stuffy places like this universe, where was the risk versus reward? Why was everything a facade? She herself loved the adventures and places that took her breath away and to leave friends behind.

When her words became flustered and that moment came that she could not longer speak, the captain spoke up and even though her cheeks flush her eyes looked up to his face to see him speak. He was kind and endearing. Rochdale even made her smirk.

It seemed he had a very jagged minefield of shrapnel and corpses around his soul and all because of a curse or law as he suggested. Her mind thought he looked rugged, unique, and in pain. It was obvious a physical discomfort as well as a mental one. Perhaps one day they could find a solution to his problem. Unlike for her, she was a dog and human hybrid. Well all anthro were and though they were a natural mutation in her universe, it seemed that for most species this seemed rather unethical because of how they view their pets and the similarities. It really was a shame. They were like everyone else.

"Captain, I honestly don't know how anyone can think you anything other than an old sea dog with a very dark sense of humor." Those eyes shown with compassion and respect, even a touch of worry but it seemed there was no malice, no hatred or fear.

 

[Hekazu]

There was camaraderie in the air, something Rochdale could recognise even through the dulling curtain of his lacking soul. And it wouldn't go past him to recognise that a dog-person had just called him a sea dog. He raised a corner of his mouth to imitate a lopsided smile, something he knew to be expected from such jests, and even lifted his eyebrow up a bit. "The road I travelled housed many kinds of madness. And while I avoided as much as I could, I was not unharmed by my vengeance. My reputation as an abomination, further accentuated by the law, is somewhat justified. But you've only ever known me as I am now, so if none of what you see bothers you, I have little need to explain the details", he explained how he would come to face hostile attitudes, turning to brush a finger against the verdant vines.

Rochdale climbed to his feet, going over some of his clothes as he thought about his options on what to do next. To sleep was rather high on his list of priorities. Eaten they just had. So perhaps just resting and letting the inks settle would be the smart thing to do. "I don't think they'd like it too much if I tore holes in all of the sheets, so I'll need to protect that somehow", he murmured mostly to himself, picking up his salt-speckled overcoat and laying it down on the mattress, next beginning to stuff part of the blanket inside his pullover. Tomorrow would be a new day. Hopefully a day where he could leave this dimension behind. But then again, the tattoo was not done as far as he understood.

 

[Fatal Nymph]

With a nod of understanding she leaned back into her bed of choice for the night. He spoke and his words rang true. It really wasn't her business of who he was before now, it was the here and now that mattered. And it seemed like he had much to keep in the dark, just like herself. No use in digging up what no one wanted to talk about.

He mentioned the sheets and blankets. "I would worry about it too much until you want a new set. The owner is very much aware what hostels attract and the different species that heavily use them." She moved or rather shifted to lean against the wall and continued to respond to the glass device.

Finally she set the device down. The anthro leaned forward and grabbed a semi thick blanket pulling it up and over her lap. Zava was very much a person who was slow to fall asleep but eventually she would crash.

The dark void took hold and comfortable darkness. Dreams drifted like slow lapping waves, never enough to wake her up but enough to make her toss and turn.

 

[Hawksearcher]

All was silent in the night, or at least the equivalent of night in this dimension with no formal sun. The lights of this section of the city dimmed as the residents of this district had voted on a natural circadian cycle--most of the permanents in this part of town did indeed require darkness to sleep effectively.

Still, usually there is some residual light that filters in from the large glowing crystals that float a distance above the city streets. Which is why it was all the more noticeable when Captain Rochdale and Zava got an especially restful night's sleep. The reason for their deeper rest was because no light ever came on to simulate the rising of the sun and to signal the start of the next day.

The power was completely shut off, and Zava's room was thrust into a darkness so deep that even her eyes could scarcely pierce it. The only reason why either of them could see was because there were small emergency lights along the floor of the hallway outside of Zava's room, and their eerie amber glow floated faintly between the imperfections in the seal of her door.

Despite being a less wealthy district, Zava would definitely regard this as highly unusual. Since she isn't a historian, she most likely would not know the exact reason why Silver Nexus has unlimited power, but she does know that this dimension is quite well known for solving their ancient energy crisis through the discovery of the giant crystals that float in the sky and supply the city with all the power it would ever need.

As a ship's captain, Rochdale would undoubtedly have some understanding of the transference of energy systems to some degree, and most issues with the supply of energy occur in one of two places--either there is some cut or sever between the power source and the area being powered, which is usually easier to address, or there is some issue with the power source itself, which almost universally is the greater of the two problems.

What was going on?

 

[Hekazu]

Morning never broke. It had not done so for him for years. Waking up in darkness, however, was not the norm. There was always some light around the ship, and the patterned glass on his cabin door had let in a fair bit of that of the hallway. Before that, the bunks of the shared areas were always dimly lit. He knew to be concerned. Though right off the bat, he simply had to check the bracelet he had chosen to wear over the oppressive assault upon his mind. Was it loose now? Or did it still work tirelessly on its task, reporting in? Either way, this action was simply to satisfy his immediate curiosity. He still had that nagging feeling of needing to look further.

The man rose up in the dark, his eyes that were darker than this darkness around them adjusting to the lack of light without difficulty. The colour of the deepest Zee, the hue of the flesh of the beasts, one of the illegal colours of the Neathbow, Peligin, granted him what most would lack. Rochdale only had the moment for a quick stretch before moving towards the window of the room and observing the streets outside. Just as dark as in here. Trouble in paradise? Served the regime right. But the ordinary people of the realm did not deserve this kind of trouble. Not that he owed them to fix it.

Rochdale returned to his bed and begun a series of extended morning stretches, ripping several of the thorns out of his flesh and letting the blood flow on his skin. This felt like a day where he needed his full mobility. Even if it meant dirtying the one set of clothing he had to his name and making the wounds worse for the next time. Afterwards he would slowly dress himself, still having to fight to get past the snagging thorns. Finally, his hand grasped the notched bone-harpoon while the other set the hat on his head. It was poor form to deliberately wake others. But Zava appeared to be already stirring, if not wholly awake. "The lights are out", he'd note the obvious. "Time to see what is being made of this." If she joined him, he would give her the time she needed to be ready.

 

[Hawksearcher]

When Captain Rochdale looked down at his tracker bracelet, he noticed that the small blue light along its edge, which was once steadily glowing, was now slowly blinking on and off. It seemed that the bracelet had not completely deactivated, but something definitely seemed to be interfering with its operation. Unfortunately for the freedom-loving sailor, the bracelet did not loosen nor break off of his wrist after the power went out.

Nevertheless, as Rochdale went through his morning stretching, there were no catastrophic events that occurred in the dark of the morning, save for a few very faint voices floating in from the hall outside.

Then he spoke out loud.

From Rochdale's point of view, his voice was completely normal, with the faintest reverberation and echo as it bounced around Zava's hard-walled room.

However, from Zava's still-waking point of view, when the captain spoke aloud, from his lips uttered language that was completely foreign to her. Her new friend, whom she had spent the entire previous day with, was now verbally incomprehensible to her. And should she try to speak back, she would perceive her own voice and language as normal, but Rochdale would hear the strange lilting language of her kind, equally indecipherable...

 

[Fatal Nymph]

Sleep was deep, so much so that an internal clock went off. Eyelids batted open and her tail swished or rather twitched as it was partially stuck under her body weight. Zava sat up and sleepily took in the sight before her. The red light seemed to be too bright and Rochdale looked as though he was unaware or didn't mind. With a swipe of her eyes, the female changed into normal every day cloths. The same pants from before but this time a form fitting half sleeve. This one had dark green vines with a broad fringed leaf pattern. The design was obviously from another place than the pants. Though they were both the same dark black.

Rochdale seemed ready and his voice came forth but his words were from another dimension. The lights. She turned and looked out the window. It was like this everywhere. The female turned to him, "Different language." Her eyes shut thinking for a moment. She communicated with tribes all the time. Once more those eyes opened and she looked at him, he seemed ready to go, but to where and why. At either rate, with the loss of a close by universe, it was best to go see what was going on.

Without much more hesitation she grabbed her bag and shouldered it before pointing to the captain, herself, and then out the door.

 

[Hawksearcher]

As the two Travelers stepped out of the door into the hall, they first noticed the eerie amber lighting that glowed from the emergency strip along the edge of the floor, stretching the far way up and down. The light barely permeated the hall, as the lighting cells themselves seemed clouded and faded from disuse--evidently, they hadn't been maintained, perhaps because there has never been a real need for them before.

The second thing the pair noticed was the cacophony of sound that floated through the halls. It was just so... alien. Whereas before, all of the conversations they might have overheard was immediately understandable as their own language, now it seemed that the growing crowd of hostel guests emerging from the different doors were strung along through a maelstrom of different alien dialects, vowels, clicks, and grunts.

One such Traveler, who shortly after the pair emerged from the room beside them, turned to them and spoke in a ghostly and lilting hollow voice.

​

"Vloo vara vorune va'akrun val varn?"