| abstract
| - Sirocco Street - A vast change from the city above, the undercity is filthy. Lights hang from the ceiling, shining onto the cracked gray asphault. The air is completely still, with the only breeze being stirred up as a vehicle passes. Factory fronts have grown like weeds amidst the ruins of old shops that once inhabited this street. It's awfully quiet if one listens down toward the residential section of the undercity, most of the denizens nowhere in sight. Walking up from that direction is a rather familiar figure: slight, pink hair, miniskirt, rifle case... Yup. Kestrel. She's sauntering along as if she hadn't a care in the world, whistling tunelessly to herself. Sheppard is, as normal, moving along the alleyways, rifle held at the ready. He doesn't seem to note Kestrel yet, but his path will intersect with hers at some point. He also has a potato held between his teeth. "Too many potatoes is bad for you, you know," Kestrel calls to the rifle-wielding Solan, giving a slight chuckle. "Starch and all that." "But the skin's got vitimins an' minerals." Sheppard replies, turning towards the sound of the voice. Kestrel chuckles again. "And dirt. Lots of dirt." She grins, and heads over his way. "Find anyone profitable this evening?" "Naw, not too much. Money's been a bit scarce this week. Almost afraid I cleaned 'em out, might 'ave ta start workin' the upper city." Sheppard replies, removing to potato from his mouth when he speaks. "Pity," Kestrel replies, wincing. "Had one earlier, myself. Cakewalk, really. Guy didn't even know what hit him." She gives a little smile, then taps one finger on the center of her forehead. "Right there. Best way to do it." "I 'unno, sometimes I think it's funny ta watch 'em clutching at spurtin' wounds, teach the meat lovers a thing or two," Sheppard replies, "But did once see a sniper take off someone's arm with a fitty cal, that was fuckin' sweet." Kestrel grins slyly. "Yeah. You can do some pretty nasty damage, and they don't know what hit em unless you screw up." She tilts her head slightly to the side. "Usually they gave me the smaller rifles, though. Easier to move around with and such. Sendin me through the damn air ducts." "Ever take part in a boardin' op? Those things are fuckin' bloody, died in one of 'em," Sheppard replies. "Nope," Kestrel replies, shaking her head. "I can't shoot anything but a slugthrower, something that isn't exactly optimal for boarding actions." She chuckles softly. "And, well... take a look at me, man. I'm about useless in a fight unless I've got a gun with me." "Some of 'em were a 'ell of a time, others were fuckin' 'ell though," Sheppard replies with a nod to that, "Guess didn't miss much, lotta fightin' is like that," Kestrel nods, wincing slightly. "Even setting up ambushes and such, still, sometimes we got our asses handed to us. I'm lucky to be able to say that I never died." She smirks. "Came close a few times, but they never did get me." "Wouldn't 'ave myself if the fuckin' Nall didn't jump out at me from inside a fuckin' bulkhead, tore right inta my back, didn't see 'im comin'." Sheppard replies. "Ouch," Kestrel replies, again wincing visibly. "Yeah... we were attacked by psionists once, and counter-ambushed several times." She shakes her head. "I've been creased plenty of times, shot real good once, but the psionists never did get to me." "Didn't 'ave ta go up against psionists too often, fortunately, mostly just engaged foot sloggers or went on boardin' actions myself," comes the reply from the potato holding man. Kestrel wrinkles her nose. "Plenty of good people died in those flames. Not me, though." She shakes her head. "If only more people had faith, then they'd have nothing to fear from those sorts of powers." Sheppard snorts a bit, "Faith...guy rises from the dead af'er three days, well yah know what? I've risen from the dead twice and gone back ta kickin' Nall ass, but yah don't see people bowin' at my feet now, do yah?" "...Jesus?" Kestrel asks, one brow quirking upward. "That's not who I'm referring to." She smiles. "Newm. That's who I have faith in. He's saved my life more than once." "'e die and come back ta life too? Really don't care if 'ee did, then," Sheppard replies, ripping a large bite out of the potato. Kestrel chuckles and shakes her head. "No. He killed hundreds of people in gun duels when he was alive. So many that Akari herself refused to unsheathe her sword to take his life when he was wounded." Another smile follows. "Now, he's one of our saints." "Yah worship someone 'oo killed people? Fuckin' sweet, 'ave ta give yah credit on 'at one," Sheppard replies through his hunk of potato. "Even during the great conflict in our afterlife, he took no side," Kestrel continues, giving a soft chuckle. "He duelled some of the champions on each side, but ultimately, cared not for the end." A slight shrug follows. "He's the Saint of Gunslinging. Guns know no good and no evil. They're a means to an end no matter what side you're on." Sheppard pats his rifle, "Oh, Jen knows what she kills, takes as much pleasure in it as I do," he replies. Kestrel chuckles softly. "They're all targets to me when I'm working. Nothing more, nothing less." A slight shrug follows. "I have to admit I have a soft spot for a challenge. It's only to be expected of someone that follows Newm, though, I suppose." "Challenge is always good, 'specially if it's because of meat lovers, then get ta take a lotta pleasure in it, an' Jen an' the rest o' the girls like it too," Sheppard replies. "You named em all, I take it," Kestrel replies, giving a grin. "Cute." Sheppard nods, "Jen, Allie, Kat, and Jess," he replies, pointing to his projectile rifle, energy rifle, projectile pistol and energy pistol in turn. Kestrel chuckles softly. "Not named after exes, I hope?" she asks, giving a mischievous grin. "Naw, but can't ever go on a date with a girl named the same as one of 'em, would make 'em jealous," Sheppard replies, shaking his head. "Hm," Kestrel replies, then chuckles softly. "Welp, I'm not named any of those things," she muses, then frowns. "Not that we're gonna, y'know, go on a date or anything. Just an observation." "Right, know your true intentions, Whatever, you jus' keep playin' that game, you'll come around eventually," Sheppard replies, taking another bite of his potato. As always, it's in that rather uncaring tone. Kestrel runs a hand across her hair. "Thought you were just into the sex, anyway. Not the dating." A vague shrug follows. "Anyway, I suppose the game's up and I ought to just admit it. Right. The whole reason I came to Tomin Kora was to seduce you." Deadpan. Completely deadpan. Nonchalant, even. "Knew it. Fuck it takes a while ta get somethin' straight outta you," Sheppard replies through that hunk of potato, same tone. "...You know what sarcasm is, right?" Kestrel asks, one brow quirking upward dubiously. "Course I know what it is," he shakes his head, "But naw, you said it," he replies, but it's still in that uncarign tone and he doesn't look as if he's about to DO anything about it so...yea. Kestrel seems genuinely puzzled at this point. "I can't figure out if you really believe that or not," she admits, with a soft chuckle. "Yah said it, so I'm believin' you," Sheppard replies simply, finishing off that potato of his. "...right," the La Terran agrees, one brow quirking upward again. Kestrel chuckles and shakes her head. "Do you believe everything everyone tells you, or only the things that get you laid?" She grins at that. "Not everythin', that school girl keeps tellin' me she's not a school girl, but I know better," Sheppard replies. Kestrel laughs softly. "So wait, am I a school girl the days I wear my little plaid skirt?" she asks then, her head tilting slightly to the side. "Naw, 'cause you don't wear a full uniform, and you aren't small enough," Sheppard replies, shaking his head. "...I'm five foot two," Kestrel replies, stifling a giggle. "But alright, whatever you say, Shep. Not small enough. I gotta mark down this day, cause that's the first time I've -ever- heard that." "Yea, but you're tall enough tah be outta 'ighschool, so you're fine," Sheppard replies to that. Kestrel grins. "Well, at least you're giving me that much credit," she replies. "I get told I look like I'm about eighteen. Usually by filthy perverts that're about twice the age I really -am-. Ew." "'ow old /are/ yah?" Sheppard asks, blinking a bit, seeming to have to think about this. "Guess," Kestrel replies, blinking coquettishly. "Guess right and... uh... I dunno, something good, I suppose." "Twenty nine." Sheppard says firmly. Kestrel winces. "Ouch," she notes, in a mock-sad tone. "Now I'm hurt. I don't look that old, do I?" "Was a guess, I'll try again. Twenty three." Sheppard says, still not in any tone that implies that he cares but...he never really seems to care about anything more than killing and veggies anyways. "Twenty-six," Kestrel corrects, shaking her head. She chuckles. "Sorry, chief. No prize for you." A pause then, her expression contemplative. "Guess it really wasn't fair, though, cause I know damn well I look like a teenager. Look on the bright side, at least I didn't bet you you couldn't guess." "'s true, can't spare the money this week," Sheppard replies with a nod. Kestrel smirks and nods. "Yeah. I hear you there." She wrinkles her nose a bit. "You seen Pavel, by the way? The, er... pedophile, I mean." "Naw...should see if I could find 'im, promised me those pomegrenades a while ago," Sheppard replies, frowning a bit at that. "We, um... sorta had a bit of a tiff," Kestrel admits, frowning. "I have to talk to him. Soon, hopefully." A slight shrug follows. "If you see him, tell him I'm looking for him?" Sheppard nods, "I'll 'ave ta look for 'im at some point or another...hell, could look around now," he replies. Kestrel shrugs vaguely. "Could. I hadn't seen him around the market, but he's gotta go back there eventually." She chuckles. "Else his clients'll tear the place apart." "Well, can check the bar first then, 'ee might be there," Sheppard replies, turning towards the elevator, "Come on, Jen'll protect yah if 'ee gets rowdy," he says, and it's hard to tell if he's entirely serious on that bit, either. "I got a cute little semi-auto pistol that'll do well enough," Kestrel agrees, chuckling. "Thanks, though. I mean that. Chivalry's not entirely dead - just on life-support, hm?" She follows him toward the elevator. "Never said I'd do it, Jen will, she's good with people," Sheppard replies, and then he's inside. Upper Reach Tavern - The Upper Reach Tavern is busy, day and night. Shift managers from the lower-level factories and fancy-suited executives mingle on a regular basis. The white-carpeted floor is free of stains - beer or blood - thanks to the indentured servants who are always ready to clean up the mess. The bar is long, a good twelve feet in length, with a mirror running behind it. The walls are painted a soft sky blue, with chips missing here and there. Inside the tavern isn't too busy this time of the night. Bri sits in one of the booths, a glass of juice in front of her as she has her eyes glued to the holoviewer. Sheppard stalks into the tavern, Jen slung at his side, while the rest of the girls are visible strapped to his kevlar, but Jen is at the ready. When he steps in though, he turns to the doorway again, as if waiting for someone. While waiting, he pulls out a carrot and a lighter and...lights up. Kestrel saunters in, rifle case at her side, and lights up something of her own - a dark-colored, sweet smelling cigarette. She eyes Sheppard sidewise and chuckles. "Great minds. Or something," she notes. Bri looks over at the two as they enter and waves with a bright smile to Kestrel....suppose it could look like she's waving to both. "Evening," she calls out cheerily. "No pedophile," Sheppard comments to Kestrel after looking around briefly, "But the school girl's 'ere," he does comment as Bri waves at them...her. "Hey there," Kestrel calls back to Bri, waving, then nodding at Shep. "Maybe she knows where we can find him," she reasons, heading over in the Sivadian's direction. Bri smiles even brighter as Kestrel moves toward her, "How're you doing?" she asks, "Would you like to join me?" "Right," Sheppard replies, smoking his carrot as he follows after Kestrel, "I'm in a killin' mood, an' so's Jen," Sheppard replies to Bri, not seeming to care who she was speaking to. Kestrel chuckles softly. "Actually..." She pauses, biting at her lower lip. "Now that I've got you here... I was hoping you'd know where I could find Pavel. To, um... apologize to him." She winces then, and falls silent. Bri looks up at Sheppard with concern, "Jen?" she asks, then looks over to Kestrel, "I'm not sure right now actually. I think an apology would be nice though. I could go with you to find him if you like."
* Click* is the sound of a round being chambered into Sheppard's projectile rifle, "Jen," he replies with a nod, "An' Jen'll be the one makin' sure pedophile don't get rowdy when she appol0-whatsit." "...I don't think it'll come to that," Kestrel says, placing a hand on Shep's arm and giving a faint chuckle. She nods to Bri then. "Maybe if you're with... well, maybe he won't avoid me like the plague, at least," she adds, again wincing. Bri nods, "We can go look for him," she says brightly. There's a look up to Sheppard as she stands and she calmly retorts, "If anything happens to Pasha...you'll be the first to regret it." "Jen's the one makin' sure, not me," Sheppard replies with a shrug to Bri, "'sides, who ever said she's gonna talk ta 'im? Jus' makin' sure 'ee don't get rowdy, Jen can do a lot without talkin'," he replies to both of them. Kestrel winks at Bri. "Nobody's ventilating anyone," she replies. "Don't worry." She pauses then, her lips pursing. "So. Any clue where to start looking for him? I haven't seen him in the market in days..." Bri shrugs, "That was going to be my first suggestion actually," she says with a little frown. "That's where I'd start." "Market it is 'en," Sheppard says, turning towards the doorway, still keeping Jen shouldered but loaded. Ritter's Market - The market is a bustling place, with different merchants peddling their different wares on the side. Pirated software at one booth, cheap replica pistols at another. The array of strange curiosities seems almost endless in this area. The clucking, barking and meowing of different types compete with the loud and general drone of the market going public. Gangs roam the area, looking for a moment of opportunity to cause trouble. A clear area lays around a run-down looking lift, which leads down to the wastelands below. For the last few days, Pavel's been rather scarce, wherever one looks. But today, as if nothing has happened? The pink tablecloth is absent, but there's the purple-haired Ungstiri, sitting at his table, feet up and cigarette lit up. Kestrel saunters in, cigarette between her lips, and rifle case in one hand. She seems to be leading at least one person, as she's talking over her shoulder to whomever it is. "So why Jen?" she asks of Sheppard, one brow quirking upward. Sheppard is definitely following her, Jen slung at his side, and his other girls all strapped somewhere to his kevlar, "Think the name suits 'er." he comments. He raises Jen in the air and fires off that loaded round into the sky, continuing on without pause or flinch at the projectile rifle's noise. And behind them comes Bri, her hands clasped behind her back as she looks around the area. Pavel seems to just be savoring his cigarette, taking long, slow inhalations, his eyes half-lidded. He's dirty, scruffy, but rather relaxed. And he shows no sign of noticing the familiar faces. The pink-haired Later flinches at the sound of a rifle shot so close to her, and eyes Shep sidewise. "Must you?" Kestrel asks, giving a soft chuckle. "Though I suppose you'll tell me Jen just had something to say, right?" "Aye, she's been dyin' ta talk. She's usually pretty talkative, but 'aven't given 'er too many conversations lately. She likes long ones best, but those don't 'appen very often," Sheppard replies. Bri spots Pavel though and starts across the market at a quicker pace, "Pasha!" she calls excitedly as she rushes toward him. Kestrel progresses toward Pavel as well, though at a more sedate pace. She pats her pockets briefly, then reaches inside her jacket for... something. She gives a nod at Sheppard, and a faint smile. Sheppard nods, following after Kestrel, "'Ey, fuckin' pedophile mate, how're the pomegrenades comin'?" he asks. Meanwhile, there's a bit of an angry looking vendor storming towards the carrot chain smoker. The guy might just be a meat vendor, judging from the sausages sticking out of his pockets. Hopefully that's what the bulges are, too. Bri throws her arms around Pavel and nuzzles her cheek against his if he lets her, "Being good," she says softly before kissing his cheek lightly, "I've missed you, love," she adds with a little grin. "I have been being bad," Pavel laughs, not resisting the display of affection- indeed, he lets his arms curl around Bri in return, and kisses her while she's nuzzling away. "But it is good to see you." The pink-haired Later approaches the table and draws forth what it was she was rummaging for - ah, that would be a pint of vodka. Good vodka. She places it on the table in front of Pavel with only the smallest of sounds, and looks at her boots. "I've never had to tell anyone I'm sorry for calling them the devil before," Kestrel says then, wincing. "So I'm not sure where to start." 'Ey, fuckin' pedophile mate, pomegrenades?" Sheppard asks as he follows up behind Kestrel. That guy with the sausage and odd bulges in his pants is nearing the group, looking at Sheppard. If his profession isn't already obvious, the man can be seen carrying a long butcher's knife now. Bri smiles and leans into the kisses returning them with kisses of her own before trying to slide into his lap. She stays quiet for now, almost like a kitten curling into his lap and purring contentedly. Pavel leaves an arm around Bri as she settles, holding her closer. "The pomegrenades are ready, how many would you like to order," he says absently Sheppard's way, gaze now on Kestrel. "Well. I have been thinking about it. And I suppose I cannot mind being the devil, especially with a beautiful woman on my lap and some good vodka on my table." Kestrel smirks and shakes her head. "I'll explain sometime. Promise. But, um... yeah. For now..." She shrugs vaguely. "We can be civil, at least, right?" She wrinkles her nose. "I still need to talk to Seraph, though. Her lady doesn't much like that sort of thing." She hasn't noticed the guy with the knife. "How many yah-" Sheppard begins to Pavel, but is cut off by the man with the big knife, who grabs Sheppard's shoulder and pulls him around, raising the knife to jab down at him, "You killed my brother!" he yells, and quite angry sounding at that, some spittle flying out as he speaks. Sheppard is rather calm about the whole thing though, managing to catch the butcher's hand before he strikes, but that does mean that he has a big bloody knife a few inches away from his face. Bri sits contentedly until the man attacks Sheppard, her eyes going wide as she shrinks into Pavel trying to make herself very small. "Aaah-" Pavel jumps to his feet, moving in front of Bri protectively- not that he's a very big shield. "No fighting around here," he snaps at the man assaulting Sheppard. "Fuck off or die!" The pink-haired Later girl seems to be in agreement with Pavel, since Kestrel whips a pistol out from within her jacket and levels it at the would-be knife fighter, then manually pulls back the hammer. "You know, we -were- having a decent conversation here. I can't abide rudeness." The pink-haired Later girl seems to be in agreement with Pavel, since Kestrel whips a pistol out from within her jacket and levels it at the would-be knife fighter, then manually pulls back the hammer. "You know, we -were- having a decent conversation here. I can't abide rudeness." "He killed my brother!" Butcher man replies to the two, pushing his knife a little, which leaves a thin red line along Sheppard's cheek. It's hard to tell at the moment if that's Shep's blood or the blood already one the knife. Sheppard though, has used his other hand to free Kat, perhaps why his arm slipped slightly, and fires a round, point blank, through the man's gut. Butcher man goes wide eyed at that, dropping the knife to the ground as he too, tumbles, not dead, but the way he's bleeding, probably not alive for too much longer. Sheppard proceeds to rant at that point, "Fuckin' meat lovin' cunt whore. 'S why I killed your brother, yah know that fucktard? Cause you're meat lovin' bastards!" Bri cringes behind Pavel, peeking out from around him, her eyes wide as she watches the scene unfold before her. "You killed his brother for eating meat?" Pavel asks Sheppard more than a little skeptically, eyeing the bleeding butcher. "Hoop, man, what kind of reason is that to kill someone?" Kestrel smirks and shakes her head. "Just put him out of his misery, Shep," she offers, then flicks on the safety on her pistol and pockets it again. She shrugs vaguely at Pavel. "I find it best not to ask sometimes, truthfully. This is one of those times." "Fuckin' meat lovin' bitch! Have some meat up your damned ass!" Sheppard says, and he does indeed end the man's misery, putting multiple rounds into his head and chest, spattering blood and brains on the pavement. He finally stops when his mag runs out, "There yah go Kat, gotcha a nice 'ittle conversation," he says to his pistol, reloading as he looks towards Pavel, "Well when 'is brother was down in the lower city killin' folks and takin' my jobs so 'ee could take the bodies and give 'em to 'is brother to grind up an' sell as meat...figgure it's worth killin' 'im for." Sheppard replies, "An' 'ee came after me," Bri's eyes go even wider, "He's crazy," she cries out, "I told you he wasn't quite right," she mumbles a little softer. Pavel hmms at that, considering Sheppard after a moment. "Well. I would not say he is sane," he tells Bri over his shoulder. "But feeding humans to other humans is a good enough reason for me to see someone dead." With a none-too-worried shrug, the Ungstiri resumes his seat. Sheppard nods a bit, reholstering Kat, "Right. Well get some pomegrenades ready for me pedophile mate, I'll be back sometime ta get 'em," he states, kicking the dead man a bit, before wandering off in the direction of the shanty town. Bri nods, "Nobody's sane here," she says softly as she reaches for Pavel, trying to keep herself close to him. "Do not worry for a moment," Pavel softly tells Bri, arm tightening around her. "I will always protect you." Glancing up and over to Sheppard, he calls to the departing man, "Wait! How many? Four-fifty eash." "Get me one for now, will probably get more later, money's tight this week," Sheppard replies before he's gone.
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