Thread: Into the Black (Velociraptor Noise & Defiant)

Well Whitefall was certainly a pleasant little backwater shitstain of a planet, wasnt it? Not that Rem had expected much else. Thus far this sun-bleached, yokel world was exactly everything hed heard about it - near to a T. Hed done his research prior to leaving the ship, padding out and building on the general background of esoteric hearsay hed picked up and never forgotten, just for just such an occasion as their crew being stranded there thanks to three broken thermal pistons. Theyd always accused him of being a prickly, paranoid bastard. Hed simply said that he prefered the term well-prepared. At any rate, they truly didnt know even the half of it. Hed much prefered to have been able to say that well-prepared, in this case, would have meant that hed have foreseen the breaks in the engine room bowels or to have anticipated their last mechanics abrupt end of his usefulness. But, sometimes you have to make-do with what you have. And in this case, a convenient bit of dark net gossip about a particular mechanic shop on dried up, sheep-fucking Whitefall was what he had. Because, as hed already told Najdek at least three times today He couldnt fix anything that didnt operate in 1 and 0s. And until they made space boats that ran off of digital fucking coding that wouldnt be changing anytime soon no matter how many times his pock-marked ass asked him. And even IF the government and every damn shipbuilding company and guild did pull their heads out of each others collective rectums and finally got on the right train to the digital age, unlikely as that would ever be, you cant fix four clean inches of cracked stainless steel with a clever bit of code routing. If he hadnt wanted Najdek to bluster without response until he was red in the face with impotent fury he wouldnt have phrased it that way, its not as though he wanted that giant angry slavic bull traipsing after him while he brokered sensitive, underworld-privy deals anyway. And the Captain, when that selfsame bovine had wrenched open the door to bridge decrying Rems manners and his hurt feelings, had agreed that it was best for all parties if Najdek kept to ship. Rem didnt play games he didnt know he could win. It was so easy with Najdek he almost felt bad. Almost. If he wasnt assured in his position among Lovelands crew he wouldnt have stayed with them. It was funny what good looks, the will to use them and a brain would do for you in that regard. No wonder Najdeks life had taken such a dark turn that he was relegated to taking consistent verbal beatings from a kid half his age. Again, he almost felt sorry for the old bull. Small victories aside, he was keen on getting this unfortunate and inconvenient matter dealt with quickly. The idea of an extended, unpredicted stay on a world he knew, respectively, little about wasnt appealing in the least and if it had him on edge at least hed managed to only take out the anxiety on Najdek. Rem Kovacs, when he left the Red Tail, certainly didnt have the look of someone on any kind of edge. He looked unavoidably out of place among Whitefalls bumpkin populace, but it was the right kind of out of place. He had no desire, nor was he in nearly desperate enough straights at current, to make any attempt to blend in with their ilk. Besides, he needed to make an impression. Just as much as the fine cut of his practical clothing and his general hygiene, his age set him apart as much as anything. If only because of the contrast that his lack of years set against the rest of his cadence. He was a thin, gangly youth - long and lean in limbs and the arch of his neck. The effect would have been unsightly if he didnt have an odd, but undeniable kind of poise that put all of those features to gloriously efficient work when he cared to. And he usually cared to. Rem had the kind of racial hodge podge of features that were common among his generation, but in his particular scenario the dice had fallen in an undeniably favorable configuration. There was something of eastern descent in his pale skin and smooth, inky black hair but the one almond-shaped eye not hidden beneath long, side-swept bangs was a vibrant, almost acid shade of green and the planes of his narrow, angular face were well defined with an aquiline nose and high-set cheekbones. He wore a cowl-necked jacket, though his neck was covered to his jawline by a very high-collared cotton shirt beneath and sensible pants and boots considering the dusty, uneven paving of even the township streets. If it wasnt far too ambitious to call this a town in any manner unironically. Likewise his arms were covered by cotton sleeves even though hed rolled the cuffs of his jacket up over at his elbows. Rem walked armed, like anyone with any amount of sense, but not overtly or oppressively so. The deringer in its holster at his hip was the only obvious arm on him. It hadnt been too far of a walk, theyd had enough use of the ships engines and landing mechanics to get to Whitefall and certainly enough to end up near enough to where Rems net-reputed mechanics held shop. Even so, it was wretchedly hot, dry walk and he was more than happy for the relative solace of the shaded coolness of the cement shop. He didnt bother knocking, the door was open as hed expected. The usual little bell tinkled above the door as he opened it so be didnt bother calling out to announce his presence, though his visible eye glanced around in quick, efficient observation.