Ta-vora shakes his head.
“His mind may still be active, but that's about everything. A matrix trap projects an undetectable energy field, which, once disturbed, creates such a static crystal around the source of disturbance. It's the Ka-nuth equivalent of a stasis field trap. You said you can calm him down, so you can still reach him?”
Larra nods.
“Then your bond must be very close, as this crystal absorbs any psionic activity.”
One of the scientists continues: “Usually such a crystal can, of course, be dissolved, but I don't know how Demon will react to it. A shapeshifter's cellular structure is not as stable as that of a normal being, otherwise it couldn't change shapes. If we dissolve the crystal, it may affect the shapeshifter.”
“How?” Larra asks.
“There is a 30% chance that it either remains in its current shape forever, dissolves as well, or survives without harm.”
“Can't we just break it?”
“The crystal is an energy-matter hybrid structure. Force is unable to damage it.”
Ta-vora sighs slightly.
“He may deserve it, but we can't let him in there forever.”
“We could try to slow the dissolving process down, it may reduce the stress. But I am not sure.”
Larra looks down at her caught companion, then looks back to the scientist.
“Try it.”
The scientist looks to Ta-vora, who nods slightly. He nods back and picks up a strange device that has another red crystal embedded into it. Two more scientists pick up two more of these devices. A fourth one grabs a control device and connects the devices with transparent cables, apparently fibre optic.
The three scientists touch the trap crystal with the devices and stand back. The fourth announces:
“I'll iniciate the energy flux. Stay clear.”
It looks like a red glowing fluid flows through the cables back and forth between the devices.
Ta-vora turns to Larra, who eyes the process closely.
“You better warn him. This is not going to feel good.”
“I can barely reach him. He's in a state of panic.”
Ta-vora chuckles.
“I know, it is not very pleasant in there. During my apprenticeship I stepped into one of these traps myself. The experience can be quite disturbing.”
At this instant, the crystal changes. The shades of red flow faster and the crystal itself starts vibrating. A strange scream-like noise becomes audible.
A part of the red glowing crystal seems to shatter and the tiny pieces flying off dissolve into nothing. The crystal shrinks slowly, more and more of its semi-matter flying away, dissolving into nothing. When there is only a thin layer left around Demon, there is a bright red flash, blinding everyone in the room.
Once everyone is able to see again, the crystal, including Demon, has disappeared.
“What happened?” Ta-vora gasps.
“I'm not exactly sure,” the scientist with the control device answers, “but I think there was an energy jam which then discharged.”
“What happened to Demon?” Larra asks, sorrow written in her face.
Suddenly someone shouts: “Help!”
Everyone in the room looks up, noticing a black cat clinging to a hook hanging from the ceiling.
Several sighs of relief become audible.
“Demon! How did you get up there?” Larra calls.
“I don't know!”
“Well, come down!”
“No! They'll do this to me again!”
Ta-vora laughs silently.
“You're the one who jumped into the trap, we didn't put you there. Besides, I warned you to be careful. I promise you that next time you'll aboard, we'll make sure all of the traps are secured.”
Still suspicious, Demon nods, lets go of the hook and transforms to a black falcon to land savely on Larra's shoulder.
“Never use these things on me again!” Demon snarls to Ta-vora.
The Ka-nuth grins.
“Promise. Now let's see how Page is doing.”

------------------
The lie is a truth, too. The truth of the one who believes it.

Quote

Originally posted by Ta-vora:
**Seraphim, perhaps I missed it, but did you ever post your character's name? I only read “she” all the time.

**

OOC: No, I never posted her name but I guess it would be better if I did so I'm about to now in this post.

She sighed heavily as the mimicking man only mimicked her once more and didn't reply to her. She didn't see what the point was in mimicking her but it wasn't like she could really do anything about about it at the moment since he didn't seem to want to listen or respond other than mimick her. It wasn't like this man knew her. In fact, barely no one would know her other the some of the authority's in this part of the universe.

And yet, even she was in the dark on who and what she really was. Although there was only one name that always came to mind... Yume. Or that's what she thought her name was but she had always been called by that ever since she placed it upon herself as her name. No matter. It was only a name. A way of identification and no more.

Yume finally tore her gaze away from the mimicking man which was the Hacker, unknown to her, to look at the one who had offered a job. She tilted her head as she wondered for a moment before she shrugged lazily. It wasn't like she had any where else to go for the moment and it might be best to stick low for a while so she would need a job to pay for food and shelter.

So Yume raised her hand and waved over to Dech as a gesture that she wouldn't mind taking the job. Yume wondered silently if she would even get it as she had never really worked in a bar before. Hopefully she would have the requirements that the bar owner sought out of a person who wanted the job. But how hard can that be?

------------------

Dech saw the raised hand. "Excellent. You're the new janitor." Grinning impudently, he hopped over the bar again, and Ace and Nicol followed him out the door.

OOC: I'll be posting more in a bit. I'm just rather tired at the moment.

------------------
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Good things come in small packages.
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Larra and Demon walked slightly behind Ta-vora, talking quietly. Larra was amused. The shapeshifter was not.

"That's probably about the third stupidest thing you've ever done," the Acaran stated cheerfully.

Only the third? Ta-vora thought to himself, having overheard that part of their conversation.

"I still can't believe you let him try that thing. 30% chance; are you crazy?" Due to his agitation, Demon's falcon feathers were ruffled and sticking up in odd directions, and he shuffled around on Larra's shoulder.

She sighed. "For the third time, I wouldn't have tried it if I wasn't positive it would have worked."

"You trust that intuition of yours too much," Demon grumbled. "I'm sure you could have thought of a safer way."

"Sure I could have," Larra answered, much to the bird's annoyance. "I know several. But I knew this would work."

"What if it didn't, and I died or something?"

"Then I wouldn't have tried it in the first place."

"You wouldn't know."

"Of course I would." In a rush of feathers, the hawk took off from Larra's shoulder and flew ahead, smacking her with his wing in the process. She simply shrugged and quicken her pace, catching up with Ta-vora.

Demon didn't always trust her instincts as fully as she herself did, but that was understandable. He'd get over it eventually. As the two approached the remains of some sort of ship, strewn across one of the Azula's cargo bays, Demon screeched at them from his perch atop a large hunk of metal.

Larra picked her way through the wreckage of the mech Orion , searching for it's owner.

"He's probably inside it again," Ta-vora pointed out.

"Yeah," Larra agreed, then raised her voice a little louder. "Hey Page! If you need any parts or anything, Ta-vora and I can go find them!"

Walking back to Ta-vora, she pulled a deck of cards out of nowhere, and began absently shuffling them. Pulling a card out of the middle of the deck, she showed it to Ta-vora. Eight of clubs. Larra put the rest of the deck in her other hand, setting it on her flat palm. Smoothly she slid the eight back into the middle, then showed the Karee the top card.

Grinning at Ta-vora's expression, Larra put the eight of clubs back in the deck

"Do the your people have any good card games?" she asked, lazily shuffling the the cards.

------------------
If all the world's a stage, why'd I get the part of the psycho?

Janitor? Isn't that a person who attends to the maintenance or cleaning of a building? Yume tilted her head at the word but then shrugged her shoulders lazily. Alright then, she was a janitor now. But it was actually a good thing for her, who ever would come looking for her as a janitor in a bar? It was a nice cover until she had to move on.

Eyes would roam once more to the man who was mimicking her and she sighed heavily as she stood up. She watched as he followed her as she started walking off towards the bar. She was starting to wonder if this man was after something since he seemed quite determined in mimicking her but she couldn't help but think if that was laughter sparkling in his eyes.

Sighing, she looked now actually scanned the place she was suppose to work in. She guessed it wasn't really bad. She wondered where were the tools she needed to use to clean this place. Or maybe she needed to get her own? She wasn't all that sure since Dech just took off without actually explaining anything to her.

She repositioned her black bag over her shoulder as her sapphires roamed the bar. Maybe she was suppose to clean up after the people left the bar. Oh well. She took a seat at another table and watched casually as The Hacker sat across from her. She just stared at The Hacker and waited to see if he would do something other than mimick her.

------------------

OOC: Where's Phantasma-whatever?

------------------
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Proud member of (url="http://"http://thefifthcolumn.blogspot.com")The Fifth Column(/url).
Good things come in small packages.
thegreenfile@gmail.com

Quote

Originally posted by TheGreenFile:
**OOC: Where's Phantasma-whatever?

**

OOC: Don't know. Think he might busy in real life but who knows.

------------------

The Hacker stood and moped away, unexpectantly falling into a chair, half laying down as he stared at the level table. His shined eyes, bright and colorless, sparkling in the light, squinted. The light hurt his nocturnal eyes. Riddick( the only resemblance between Richard Riddick from Pitch Black and The Hacker is the shined eyes and daggers. Riddick isn't his real name, either.) turned his neck sleepily towards Dechtran Zel, and he stood exhaustedly and followed behind, the bright glint of two daggers showing on his belt. He had seemingly dyed his hair, now it was bright blonde and bright red, and he wore a black, short sleeved shirt that simply read. "I don't like you either.". A long-sleeved fishnet shirt was under that, and it went in between the area between his thumb and pointer finger, then back. He wore faded, cargo, black pants with two belts hanging on the sides, one on each, and a black studded belt. On his neck was a black choker, and his nails were painted black. All over his black shoes read the sign for anarchy in red. His hair was chin length.

"Where we headed? Dech?"

Under his right wrist dangled the bottom of a redwood, round rosary, mostly for style.

"To get some Pepsi? I need a pick-me-up, before I pass out, please. Thanks."

------------------
I hate people with fancy signatures. ._.

(This message has been edited by Phantasmaegoria (edited 06-24-2004).)

Suddenly, the bar doors swung open, threatening to snap the hinges that had already failed earlier that night. A short, stocky young man with a wild look on his face stalled in front of the door. Unaware of the Hacker's increasing thirst for a Coca Cola alternative, unaware of the rest of his surroundings for that matter, the nondescript man rubbed at a bit of stubble on his chin, considering his next move. None of the other patrons gave him any notice yet, so they failed to recognize his impeccable fashion sense. He wore navy blue cargo shorts that were much too large for him, sagging below his knees, and a black tee sporting the 8-bit image of an android -- no, a Reploid -- with the name "Megaman" underneath (a hero from another age and place who would here go unreconized). Over the tee but unzipped at the front was a New Army fleece, in light blue. Of course, nobody noticed any of this, so, raising his foot, the young man began to step forward, waiting -- frozen in dramatic pose to witness the next part of this unfolding drama...

------------------
Oh, there's nothing halfway
about the Iowa way to treat you,
if we treat you,
which we may not do at all...

(This message has been edited by JaceySquires (edited 06-24-2004).)

(This message has been edited by JaceySquires (edited 06-24-2004).)

The boy curled his fingers around the handle of his sword. The shudder that ran down the spines of millions ran down his. His tattered clothing whipped around his form, and the air took on a thick smell of smoke. The boy stood tall, but he was horrified at heart. None had stood before the warlord and lived, and this boy, even with Antaries' might, was scared for his life.
And then he came, the black cape flowed into view from behind the building. The wind whipped the thick cloth around, and the boy turned stiff. A thickly plated greave stepped out from behind the cover of the building. A shockwave of sheer power whipped around the corner and the boy staggered back.
The rest of the body followerd the foot and soon the Warlord Kergoth in all of his terifying glory stood before the boy. The massive horned helm creaked, as the covered face turned to the boy.
DESTROY
The Warlords words echoed through the winds.
Z found hmself shaking. His palms began to sweat, and he was losing his grasp on Antaries' handle.
DESTROY
The Warlord's words ran around Z's head, poking into every crevace. The boy, as determined as he was felt something he had never felt. Fear.. The Warlord drew his massive sword. The Blade glowed a blinding blood red, and Z held onto Antaries tight.
DESTROY
----------------
Page shot up from his bed. He was sweating.
"Hmm, must've dozed off." Page flexed his left arm ignoring the dull pain that always lingered there. He rifled around in a pile of clothes, paper, and other random objects and produced a pack of cigarettes. He took one of the old and crooked smokes out and put it in his mouth.
Page wandered out of his room and down the thin corridor of His battlemech. The corridors were so thin in fact that it was questionable if anyone even a few inches thicker than Page would be able to travel through. Page climbed up a ladder and into the cockpit.
How was your nap? The onboard computer teased, in its monotonous male voice.
“Shut up..” Page lit his cigarette with a match he found on his chair. He looked around at the many screens that hung from the cockpits ceiling, looking at ship status’ and damage reports.
All of the generators are charged Captain Hamilton, and the ether chambers are online. All of the repairs that remain are skeletal.
“Direct the Karee engineers on how to fix all of it, If we need spare parts just get them from the ether chambers.”
I know my capabilities Captain Hamilton, and I will use my systems accordingly.
“Don’t be a wise ass, and how many times do I have to tell you, call me Page?”
----------------
Page yawned as he walked down one of the massive cables running from the back of Orion’s head.
“Hey Page,” Larra called over from her seat.
“Playing cards?” Page asked through a veil of smoke.
“No, Ta-vora’s no fun when it comes to card games. You wanna play?”
“I cheat..”
Larra frowned.
“That’s no fun,” demon piped up.
“Its too easy, unless you’re playing against D’nel.. I’m going to get a drink, I’ll be back later.”
Page sidestepped a pneumonic crane holding one of Orion’s arms, and strutted out of the door, in his almost lazy fashion. Even tired Page walked far too swiftly, and elegantly to fit in with most of the humans.
He soon got to the bar with a strangers wallet in his hand. He pulled out the ID, and then a cred-stick with well over a thousand credits on it.
“Hey! Drinks for all on General Cade Smar-“ Page walked directly into the man in the dramatic pose, and wobbled for a second as he caught his balance. The vellosian cast a sideways glance to the man who was just standing there and shrugged it off.
“who just stands there like that?” Page asked the Hacker, randomly.
Page tossed the cred-stick across the bar to Dech, and hunted for a seat.
He soon found home at a booth in the corner of the bar. Next to the table there was a tiny porthole looking out on the north tip asteroid belt. And to seal the deal, there sat behind him, giving excelent shade, a tall, leafy, plastic potted palm tree.
“Almost like home,” Page said as he downed his drink and waved for another.
He took off his sunglasses and slipped them onto the palm tree behind him.
“Much better..”
Page closed his open eye and massaged his left shoulder. He then stopped suddenly. The pitter patter of the Hackers typing was audible even through the crowded and loud bar.
Page began to get the feeling he was being scanned. He something poking at his mind, Page merely flared his weaves, and attacked his minds assailant. A solitary weave slipped through the smokey stale air over to the Hacker’s table. It wrapped itself around his laptop and closed it as it constricted. The hacker stared at his closed laptop in confusion. Then he looked over to Page.
He was massaging his shoulder. But there was a smile on his face.

------------------
Valence, Always aiming for the stars...
Then realizing he should have shot the bodyguards first...

Unsmiling however was the odd individual frozen at the entrance.

He suddenly stamped his hovering foot on the floor, causing the mist to twirl around his bare ankles for a moment. For five seconds he paused once more, slapped his forehead, did an about face, and exited the bar.

“I hope I can at least find this place again,” he thought to himself, looking upward at the creaking wooden sign.
“The ‘No Name.’ Convenient,” this time aloud.

Turning left at first, only to jerk his body into a quick walk to the right, the young man headed in the direction of the weapons stalls. Thirty yards later he stopped and leaned against an abandoned warehouse wall, gasping for breath. The crumbling mortar sticking to his sweaty palms, he continued toward the market, shuffling now at a much slower pace.
He stopped again shortly and turned to face a pirate who blinked his single eye back at him.
“Interested in a modified blaster, youngster? Look no further. This here modified blaster will do to the flesh what a Zid phase disruptor beam will do to a ship’s hull, I guarantee it.”
“Heh, no thanks,” the man forced a nervous laugh.
The pirate returned a toothless grin as the man excused himself and left. The eye rotated in its socket, following the man’s back as he proceeded to the opposite end of the market.

Six minutes later, he found himself passing an empty stall. Rounding the nearest corner he entered a lonely alleyway. The pavement, cold and moist beneath his feet, seemed unwelcoming but familiar.
He began to pass abandoned munitions canisters and crates full of various contraband, the occasional sack of trash thrown in for good measure. Cold and clammy with the sweat still clinging to his palms, he stared straight ahead.

Then one of the heaps of garbage lunged at him.
“It’s a little late for boys like you to be out, isn’t it?” the filthy vagrant asked.
The younger man pulled, trying to escape the stranger’s grip, couldn’t, then whipped his arm in the opposite direction, freeing him from his grasp.
Darting down the alley, he didn’t give a second look to the tramp who tripped over his own rags in his attempt to pursue him. The man fled as a hideous moan echoed after him through the alleyway.

The man stopped and shuddered. His mind snapped to attention. He was back here for some reason... What could have possibly been --
“THERE!” he barked.

In a corner by a shattered crate lay a red backpack.
Recognizing it, he ran --
WHUMPF!
-- into the chest of the thug who stepped around the corner just as the young man would have reached his sack.

“Looking for something?” the thug challenged.
Two more figures emerged from the shadows...

For the second time that day, but for altogether different reasons, the young man froze where he stood.

He was in horrible trouble, he was desperately lost, and he was all alone.

The thug reached out and tightly gripped the lost young adult. “ What are ya doing out at night in a place like this ? I guess ya didn’t know how ugly it can get if ya run into strangers when they’re leavin. “

He thrust the young adult at a smelly trash can and turned to leave, when he exclaimed, “ What’s this! Is this thingy yers? “ , he said to no one in particular , “ Hey guys, it looks like we hit the jackpot tonight! Guess what’s in here?” . He waited for someone to guess, but no one answered. “ Ah, whatever. It’s 150,000 credits! And we didn’t even have to rob anyone! Man are we lu- “ The minor interupted him. “ Uh, that’s actually my backpack. I came looking for it. “

The three thugs burst out laughing. “ If you want it back come fight me for it ! “ , said the obvious leader of the small gang.

So the young adult got up slowly and lunged at the thug, which caused the thug to fall backwards and drop the backpack. The young adult grabbed the red pack, dodged some punches from the other two thugs, and ran down the alley. The leader sat up,dazed, and yelled for the other two to follow the young adult, “ Catch up with him! He’s only a minor! “, but the two of them stumbled and tripped over each other’s feet while trying to run.

The young adult ran down the alley ( the crazy man in the garbage can was asleep now ) and turned out into the street. He ran into another alley, and at the end turned to the right . He was so happy to see the ‘ No Name Bar ‘ no more than 100 yards away from him, and so he ran all the way there.

When the young adult walked inside, he headed for an empty table at the very back corner and sat down there. He ordered a glass of ice water, but the bar tender gave him a glass of icky brown liquidy stuff. He took a sip and ran outside clutching his stomach. He threw up in a bush at the back of the bar, then went back inside. He slept for what seemed an hour, but was really only a few minutes.

The young adult checked his backpack to see if his credits were gone. They were still there. Suddenly, the bar door was thrown open, and the three thugs came in, each holding a different weapon of mass distruction. One held a rifle, another a cerebreal bore, and the third, a gigantic super soaker. “ Where is he?” , said the one with the cerebreal bore( his question directed to the bar tender). Then he cerebreal bored the bar tender.He burst out laughing, and it was so evil that he couldn’t stop laughing.

The young adult tipped his table on its side as a shield and lay on the floor, waiting............

Coolio, in a bar you make up and control your own characters. Also, you try not to use characters belonging to other people until you know the character a bit better. I'm not trying to be rude, just explaining. If you like you can start your own character, but it's up to Jacey whether or not what you wrote in your previous post will actually happen.

------------------
If all the world's a stage, why'd I get the part of the psycho?

OOC: And the bartender's currently away at the moment. People keep forgetting that. Everybody just help yourself.

------------------
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Good things come in small packages.
thegreenfile@gmail.com

OOC: I was watching the posts like a nerd for the last 36 hours, and Coolio's reply was the best anyone could come up with? I was kinda hoping a bar vet would jump in and save my character -- since that would have been the first welcome I've received since joining this board :frown: ...
Just kidding, I'll see what happens immediately after coolio's post. If someone continues where I left off, fine, if from where coolionomadz left off (crazy man in a garbage can?), that's fine, too. But I call the next post after that. (And that cerebreal bore might be a cool weapon if it could show up later as a "cerebral bore." I get first dibs on that one, too.)

------------------
Oh, there's nothing halfway
about the Iowa way to treat you,
if we treat you,
which we may not do at all...

Sorry that we didn't welcome you earlier, Jacey. I guess I could try to work through a massive of writer's cramp, but don't expect this to be too good.

"Not bad," Demon announced, flying across the cargo bay and landing on Larra's knee. "One facial expression and you've got him convinced you don't cheat at cards."

Larra laughed, "I only cheat when it's necessary." Suddenly remembering that he was supposed to be mad at her, Demon spread his wings and flew out of the ship.

"What was that about?" Ta-vora asked, watching the shapeshifter fly away. Larra shrugged absently and did a few card tricks, including one where she put two black aces face down on the floor, then had Ta-vora flip them over, only to find out they were actually red queens.

===============

Demon flew as high as he could in the low tunnels of the Rock, then, out of frustration, finally landed out of sight in an alley. He entered the crowd again in the form of the pure black German Shepard he had been for awhile before.

Raising his head, the large dog sniffed the air, picking up all kinds of smells and way too much cigarette smoke. He coughed a little and continued, having to constantly snap at people to avoid being stepped on. In a less smoky area Demon sniffed again, picking up all the smells one would expect in a black market. Dirty people, grease, smoke, dust, and a little of something he didn't want to know the origin of.

But there was something else as well. The shapeshifter took a deeper whiff, detecting the smell of fear in the stuffy air. Most people would claim fear didn't have a smell, but Demon would be one who would argue that point, sneering at humans with less sensitive noses.

Curiosity getting the better of him, the shapeshifter, jogged off in the general direction, slipping like a shadow through a dark alley. Three burly men surrounded a smaller younger one. It was the young one that reeked of fear.

"Always the good guy," Demon muttered to himself, then dove at the nearest thug. The leap was a good one, and he sunk his sharp teeth into the man's shoulder, twisting and dragging the yelling human to the ground like trained attack dog.

One man pulled a blaster, while the first fought to throw the shapeshifter off. He finally succeeded, just as the youth tried to sneak away. The third man caught the young man, as on the other side of the alley, Demon rolled out of the way to avoid a blaster shot. He growled deep and low, staring at the man with the gun. Quite suddenly, and with no explanation at all, the man's boots burst into flame.

Panicking, he dropped the gun and attempted to bat out the flames. The first man was getting up, but Demon dove at him with a snarl. Unnerved, the thug backed away slightly, starting as several boxes stacked against the walls came in contact with the other's flaming boots, and caught fire as well.

Planning to escape the inferno, he ran. The shapeshifter didn't bother to give chase. Instead, he turned and approached the third man and his captive, purposely foaming at the mouth. When faced with a seemingly rabid dog in a burning alley, the massive man wasn't so brave anymore. Pushing the kid at Demon, he turned and ran from the alley.

With a great howl the dog sped after him and gave chase for a few yards, then turned back. Unwilling to give away his shapeshifter identity, Demon trotted up to the young man, who was reclaiming his backpack. Putting a bit of a friendly tone in his voice, the dog barked once, then turned and began walking through the safest route out of the blaze. Realizing this, the young man followed uncertainly.

------------------
If all the world's a stage, why'd I get the part of the psycho?

OOC: Lets give Jacey a big ol' No name welcome! welcome to the boards, and the bar, enjoy your stay!

"You can come out now," Page yawned.
The young mans head poked out from behind the potted palm tree, and sighed a sigh of relief. Demon trotted over and hopped up onto Page's booth.
"You know I was going to help," Page began, "But i'd say you did pretty good by yourself. By the way that shoes on fire trick was ****in' inspiring, I oughtta take notes."
Demon blushed, well, tried to blush.
The young man began to slink away slowly and timidly from Page and the talking Dog.
"Hey."
The younger man stopped dead in his tracks.
"You have quite the ****in' knack for putting yourself in bad positions. Take a seat and help yourself to a drink."
About twenty shot glasses floated over to Page's table, followed by a handle of sailian brandy. The glasses arranged themselves into paralell lines of ten on either side of Pages table. The bottle of brandy tipped itself over each glass and filled them.
"How'd you do that?" The boy asked.
"How about i tell you over some brandy," Page grinned and lit two cigarettes.
"Uh," The boy gave Page a sideways glance, "Sorry I don't smoke." -->(this okay?)<--
"Oh well, my buddy here'll take it," Page tossed the cigarette into the mouth of a smoker across the bar.
"So whats yer name kid?"

OOC: Just some stuff on Page: He's arrogant, smokes too much, curses a little too much, is short tempered, but not to the point that he'd kill anyone elses char. He's also a telepath, a Vellosian to be specific, yes like the vell-os from Nova.

------------------
Valence, Always aiming for the stars...
Then realizing he should have shot the bodyguards first...

“Uh... m-m-my name? Hehe... if you’ll excuse me just for a moment, sir...” and he was out the door.
----------
What was that for? He asked you your name.
“I know, but what do I say?”
Your name! You tell him your name! And if someone offers you a cigarette or hard liquor-
“But I don’t smoke”
-you accept it like a man. Pretend you’re making a friend. Oh wait, that’d be a first for you, wouldn’t it?
“That’s not nice of you at all.”
Oh, let me check -- that’s right. Nobody asked what you thought. Besides, I don’t want you owing anyone your life just because you can’t take care of yourself. If anything, you need to impress them. Which makes me realize... why don’t you let me take the wheel for a while?
“The wheel?”
You know, the figurative wheel, as in the steering system to an old hovercraft, except what is meant in this case is that you will surrender total control of your body to me.
“Wait, I’m not ready yet.”
Like you have a choice.
“Just give me a cha-”
SHUT UP. Things need to be done, and they need to be done right. Preparations must be made. Discussion over.
----------
Passers-by may have noticed the young man standing frozen in front of the No Name Bar, but they wouldn’t have heard the words he had been mouthing the entire time to himself.

After a minute he unfroze, picked up his backpack, slung it over one shoulder, and dashed eastward in the direction of the marketplace.

Passing a crumbling warehouse on the way, he was accosted by a group of bums whose leader was a drunk with hideous breath and an even worse face to match.
“Hey, aren’t you coming from the No Name Bar? That place sucks. And ... uh... Boozy Bar rules!”
Hardly glancing at the abandoned brothel with the words “Boozerama Bar” scrawled on it in tainted blood, the young man pushed him away, muttering, “You can **** a ****.”
Not bothering to allow the drunk a response, he hurried to the weapons stall of the one-eyed merchant he had met earlier.

“Hey old-timer, lemme see that Zidagar phased disruption blaster or whatever you mentioned earlier.”
As the pirate turned to take a modified blaster off the shelf behind him, the man quietly pocketed a plasma blaster from the front display.
As the pirate began to demonstrate the “Zidagar” weapon, praising the “tried-and-true effectiveness of real phased disruption beams on ships’ hulls,” the man interrupted him -
“Nevermind, not interested”
- and turned. But, before he could step away the pirate noticed the empty spot where the stolen blaster had been.
“Hey what do you think you’re doing?” he snarled.
To which the younger man retorted:
“You wonder how ugly old b******s like you lose your teeth? By being stupid.”
While the pirate considered this, the young man simultaneously dropped his bag and balled his fist, then shattered the pirate’s jaw with a solid uppercut to the chin. He was unconscious before his head struck the pavement.

Rushing back to the bar he ran headlong into the drunk he met minutes earlier, still surrounded by a couple of his drinking partners.
“Hey, Emainiac, isn’t that the guy who insulted you earlier?”
“Why, **** my mother, it sure is! Nobody makes fun of the Boozerama Bar and survives!”
Before the drunk could move, however, the young man neatly flicked out his blaster, held it to Emainiac’s face, and pulled the trigger.
Emainiac’s charred flesh splattered the nearby walls.
“Greetings from the patrons of the No Name Bar!” he yelled over his shoulder as he ran back to the bar.

Though hardly out of breath, he stopped at the bar doors once more before entering.
----------
He looked better that way. And look at me, I haven’t even broken a sweat. See how it’s done, kid?
“Yea, I do, b-but I want my body back.”
Ah, but I’m just getting started.
----------
Barging through the entrance of the No Name Bar, the young man threw the doors wide open and announced in a clear, confident voice, “My name” - he paused dramatically - “is Jacey Squires.”

“Took you a while to remember, didn’t it?” Page asked with raised eyebrows.
“**** you,” Jacey spit back, sitting at Page’s table.
But after downing the remaining shots of Saalian brandy, he added, “Though if you don’t mind I could use a smoke right about now.”

------------------
Oh, there's nothing halfway
about the Iowa way to treat you,
if we treat you,
which we may not do at all...

Blue jewels roamed over to the boy who had confidentally introduced himself to the whole bar but soon her gaze roamed away again. Ignoring every one and everything around her if she did not find it important, like always. It happens to someone when they lived alone for most of their life-time and so they get use to not finding many things important.

Yume had found a hand clothe and now was slowly cleaning the counter of the bar which had a few spilt liquid of beer and other refreshment the bar offered that had been carelessly made by other people in the bar who were sitting in the stools near the bar. There was no need to rush if by the time she finished one spot, there would be another spilt area somewhere on the bar and her work wouldn't be done yet.

But there had been one thing that caught her attention, where had that man that had been mimicking her go? Yume's gaze roamed around for a moment in search for the Hacker but then remember seeing him finally leave with Dech or so she thought. A lazy shrug with the shoulders and then she returned to doing her new work.

Although there were a few times which some drunk men at the bar whistled to her and told her to come over to them but she rudely ignored them. Finally one who was fed up in calling to her, walked over to her and sat in the stool next to the area she was cleaning at before he asked in a rough voice between his hickups.
"Hey baby... whatcha doin?"
The only answer given to him was silence.
"Well...hickup what's your name, hun?"
Again, the reply was silence.
"Oh, hickup I get it...your the shy type, aren't you?"
And with that, the man suddenly wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled Yume into his lap.
Yume only blinked and stared at the man coldly as she didn't have time for this. She had work to do. And besides, she was way younger than this old geezer but he didn't seem to notice or just didn't seem to care.
"Come on, hun... Hickup! Don't be shy... I'll be gentle..."

But soon, a sickening crack was heard as the man's head flew back once Yume's fist collided with his face because he had tried to kiss her. No one... Absolutely no one kisses me! She thought as she stood there and stared at the man who was on the ground with a broken nose which seemed to be making a stream of blood down his lips.

The other group of men that the man had been with only stared at her for a moment before they whooped and laughed at the fallen man while saying "She got ya! She got ya good!"

Unfortanetly for Yume, she soond found herself surrouded by the group of men who were now being annoying pests as they bombarded her with questions which she seemed to refuse to answer some but would answer others she could answer with just as nod or shake of her head.

Another noticable thing about her is that Yume never seemed to talk at all for not one word had escaped her lips since she had entered the bar. Maybe she just didn't see a reason to talk? Or perhaps she is mute? Who knew but the men around her were only getting the silent treatment from Yume.

------------------

The Arrow sat, complete, in the hold of the Longbow.

Dech stood gazing at the ship. He was happy.

=========

Dech eyed the dead bodies outside as he entered the No Name. "Somebody's been busy. Whoever made that mess, get rid of it, please. Dead bodies stink, and stinking is bad for business."

Dech eyed the newcomer. "Welcome to the No Name, Jacey. Can I get you anything?"

------------------
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