Mon Mar 27 02:34:37 107 PA.
From Chronicles
The current game time is: Mon Mar 27 02:34:37 107 PA. Weather at Mon Mar 27 02:34:38 107 PA (-5.05C, 22.91F): Indecisive wind churns a moderate snow fall from wavy ridges of clouds overhead. The first quarter moon hangs overhead.
Either very late in the evening, or very early in the morning depending on how one looks at it, still like any city this place is never truly dead. There's always some people who are out and about trying to do something, get somewhere, or even just get home. Then there are those who are out hunting for something, or perhaps someone in particular. Zyvis is out and about, walking the streets as he searches for something. His armor is torn up as compared to normal, heavily damaged by laser fire but it's still holding together for the moment anyways.
With her back pressed firmly to a wall, one filthy boot lifted in the universal symbol for 'I am standing here nonchalantly,' (which also has the benefit of keeping her scabbard from digging into her side) Celaeno is enjoying herself a cigar. Her coat is unbuttoned to the bitter chill as the occasional fluttering breeze kicks its way through, though she seems quite happy in it.
When he see's her Zyvis immediatly adjusts his course over towards Celaeno, his gaze flicking over the woman from head to toe before looking back up towards her face. He approaches and then takes up position against the wall, "Evening, or morning. However you choose to look at it." He states cooly, without any real warmth in his words or any emotion at all really.
Celaeno's gaze finds its way to Zyvis as he greets her, eyebrows lifting in a pleasant enough expression, "Well, you look beat to all hell," she comments. "You manage to bag your beastie - want a nip?" Lowering her foot she moves to give the armour a slightly closer look, eyebrow lifting as she peers down at the pockmarkings off a high-powered laser.
"You know I don't drink." Zyvis says simply. "Why'd you send me to the Junkyard?" He asks with the barest hint of curiosity in his voice. He doesn't seem to care about being looked over in such fashion, not moving at all.
"It's where I'd look if I were hunting something. If I were a critter looking to hide, where else in the city are you going to go? Magic quarter with all the uppity mages? The Landing Strip with all the jets coming and going, and heavily armed caravans?" Celaeno gives a shrug, her cigar sliding back to her mouth, "I guess there's the park, but there'd be reports of people getting hacked to bits up there. Plus, I ran into some pretty nasty squid monsters in there, looked like a family. Figured if you didn't find your invisible bastard, you might have some luck with them."
"So you didn't send me there as some sort of setup then." Zyvis says flatly, "Sending me deep into a gang's territory armed with high powered rifles and body armor on purpose then." He still has yet to move really from where he leans against his chunk of the wall, helping to support it. His gaze however, remains locked on the woman with whom he speaks. "Because that's what it's looking like to me. Like you set me up by giving me false intel. None of that gang had even heard of any invisible creature hunting them."
Celaeno's eyes practically roll as her gaze fixes bemusedly on the man in front of her. "Can't see why I would - and I'm pretty sure you knew about the gangs. Thought that was the whole point of the thing - creatures on the lam go where the law isn't. And as for it hunting 'em, well, they're the most likely candidates for something that likes the hunt but isn't suicidal to me. Chaos, a place to hide, and more chaos. You tell me, where would be better?"
"It's a predator." Zyvis says with a narrowing of his gaze, "It's not a human, it's not an intelligent problem solving creature that is running from the law. It's just hunting." He then pushes off from the wall. "The best place is where it can sleep in safety, not where there are other predators that can kill it. The way I see it, you set me up. There's a difference between knowing there are gangs, and sending someone into that gangs most heavily defended turf." Turning to face her then he tilts his head, "A logical conclusion is that either you are paid to send new adventurers to them, so they can be robbed and you get a share of the profits, or you are actively working with them. Convince me otherwise." He moves a hand down towards his holstered pistol, but doesn't draw it yet.
Celaeno's eyes fix on Zyvis, all mirth gone. "It's a smarter beastie than you're giving it credit for, and it lives for hunting and killing. You're chasing down something that's invisible, ripped a Juicer apart in seconds, and you expect me to think you might not be able to handle yourself - that I'd send somebody like that to be rolled by my buddies? There are easier fucking marks." She takes an extended puff on her cigar, not blinking or moving her gaze.
"One man is only one man. Doesn't matter if he's a juicer, a cyborg, or a fucking mind melter." Zyvis says with a smirk, "Doesn't matter how bad ass they are, enough goons with guns can kill it." He doesn't give any indication that he notices you're drawing on any powers at all since he still hasn't drawn his gun. "What I'm hunting doesn't use multiple shooters hiding behind reinforced fucking walls. A defensible position anyone is an easy fucking mark. That's why the cops don't come in here without serious fucking numbers."
"The cops don't come in here," Celaeno looks at him flatly, "Because the cops don't give a damn. That's fine by me, but let's not get things mixed up here. And if they're looking to take your shit, they're not going to blow it all to hell, now are they? What's the most expensive thing on you? And even if they were after you, why the hell would they want you dead - /they/ don't give a shit about you. And if they did? I'm pretty sure they'd have taken you down." Puff.
Zyvis does draw his pistol then, the NG-57 coming out of it's holster but staying low for the moment, unless of course things get more dramatic than that. "Lets see, there's all the weapons, and the e-clips, plus the salvage of whatever armor I was wearing. I guess it never occurred to you they didn't try to take me down, that my armor is only shot up because they were being fucking -friendly-. That brings us to the point at hand. I'm out 40 grand because of your 'friendly' advice."
Celaeno's eyes drift to the gun, then back to the man. The space behind her eyes simmers. "You walk into the dregs, it's the fucking price you pay. Shit happens. You want to blame me for it, that's your goddamn business. Now, I suggest you put your gun away, take up fucking drinking, and move on with your life. You want to be friendly and talk about maybe working something out? We can be friendly. I like you, you fucking bastard - but if you'd prefer, we can go ahead and have it out in the streets. Put on a show for the locals."
"I'm making it your god damned business." Zyvis says simply, "You owe me a suit of armor, there's two ways we can handle that. One is that you pay up what it costs for a replacement or we go with the second option. You become prey, I get a good meal, and I take that pretty neural mace and sword off your corpse to recoup some of my losses your 'advice' inflicted. Wether or not the locals get a show doesn't matter to me one iota." He sniffs the air once, "Choice is yours. I've made mine."
Celaeno's hand moves to her sword, her eyes flickering as she does, the katana rattling and gleaming the gleam of pure high quality steel as it emerges.
As the sword is produced, Celaeno ducks to the right, kicking out away from the wall as she moves, circling. Her other hand moves to her neuro-mace, the clasp giving a soft, yielding "pop" as it comes loose. She maneuvers to remain within lunging range, but does not as of yet begin a press.
With the sword being drawn Zyvis smiles ferally, "Nice choice." He says as he reaches up to draw one of his own swords with his free hand, thumbing it to active as he does so. He doesn't wait though beyond that, as soon as he has his sword out he is lifting the pistol and obviously making ready to fire at the woman with the pistol while keeping the sword in a ready position to defend himself with his left.
With the gun skittering to the ground, Celaeno quickly moves to interpose herself between it and her opponent, her mace coming around sharply as she does so in an attempt to back him up, katana held at the ready.
With the pistol slipping from his fingers in his attempt to bring it up to quickly to fire Zyvis snarls, bringing the vibrosword around to block the swinging mace with a clash as he stops the swing from getting near him. He presses forwards then trying to back the woman up as he draws his other sword and thumbs it alive then brings one forwards in a slash towards the womans midsection. Apparently, dropping his pistol has really pissed him off, adding insult to injury of his ego.
As Celaeno slips the parry with her katana, Zyvis's sword arcs into her forearm, slicing through her coat before sliding away - a distinct lack of blood and dismemberment is suddenly apparent. With a sneer, she quickly presses her attack, her katana quickly whipping around in a gleaming arc before drawing back in a quick jab.
When the sword comes around in those quick maneuvers Zyvis seems ready for them, to an extent. Moving quick on his feet he sends the slash up to the side so that the arc wizzes by without scoring a direct hit but his fencing is apparently not up to snuff on the thrust. Twisting to the side is the only thing that saves his life, it was a preparation for further onslaught but his second parry doesn't manage to stop the apparently magical katana from slicing through his arm and bisecting across his chest at an angle, severing those last bits that were holding the armor together leaving what remains practically useless tatters. Zyvis continues on though with a growl, apparently trusting in his skill to see him through to the end which may be foolish but he whips one vibrosword around in another slash towards her chest and then as he spins another following behind it in a flurry.
As the two circle and move around the street, a few passers by - yes, there are passers by at this time of night - they huddle quickly to the side, watching with either concern or interest as the blows are exchanged. The first slash finds its way home as Celaeno's footwork fails her, the parry coming once again too late, but the only give in the strike comes from her coat as it's shredded.
When his second sword falters for whatever reason, it really seems as if luck is not on his side. Rather than continue pressing forwards with the sword swings however the Psi-Stalker lunges forwards as he drops the faulty vibro-sword, trying to tackle the woman and knock her down, rolling past regardless if he knocks her down or if she manages to avoid it to gather up the pistol he had dropped earlier and recover that weapon.
As the Stalker comes barreling towards her, Celaeno brings her neuromace up in a backhanded blow, not moving an inch. That is, until he bears her to the ground and keeps on trucking. Disengaged, she quickly moves to regain her footing, not especially worse for the wear. "So, still determined to die, are we?" she asks, eyeing the gun again.
"Way I see it," The Psi-stalker says as he shakes off the strike with the mace, grabbing his gun after that momentary near-stun, "I'm still here, and you can't last forever. Eventually you'll run out of energy." He snaps the pistol up, keeping the sword ready for defensive maneuvers and fires off an ion blast at the woman with that constant grin even now as energy blasts start flying! Them onlookers might wanna start going for cover now.
Celaeno simply stares at the man, barely blinking an eye as the ion burst burns a giant hole in her already tattered coat. She looks down and simply shakes her head, sword lifting, "I didn't set you up, but if you were this stupid with the gang..." She sighs, her sword drawing back as she closes to finish things.
The Psi-stalker deftly brings the vibrosword up with a clash that sends the other one harmlessly off to the side. He smirks, "And yet, I'm still here." He says with a grin as he fires off two more quick shots with the pistol at point blank range knowing that the only way he's going to win this is if he can cut her defenses down enough to make her burn out of energy.
As the two shots go wide, Celaeno's face is one of grim determination, obviously not happy with the situation at large. But it remains nonetheless, and back her sword draws, stabbing forward as she slowly advances.
For all his bravado it was really only a matter of time, especially with coming into this without a good set of armor. Even though he landed more shots, in the end it doesn't make a difference. As the thrust comes in Zyvis tries to bring his own sword around to block the katana coming towards him, to no avail. Striking dead center and right on it's mark there is a brief look of surprise as the blade ends up tearing a rather large hole through his midsection. He looks down but he's already dead, slumping to his knees in a cascade of blood and then tilting over to the side, a steaming corpse in this cold night weather.
Once it's done, it's done. Celaeno's sword clicks off as she draws it back, turning away. With a quick motion and soft "click," her mace is reattached to her belt. The few people who remain gather in somewhat more adventurously now that the ion blasts aren't flying, eliciting a glare from the woman who's splattered in the gore. The remnants of her coat are removed, the sword tentatively wiped down before she uses the scraps to clean off what else might remain splattered a scarce few millimeters from her body. "Fucking bastard" she spits, sheathing the sword while she goes to drape the coat over him - making sure to gather whatever belongings survived - and only barely picking over the body before dragging him back to the wall. A streak of crimson is left, the puddle that had been slowly expanding outward dragging with him before she props him up. A few members of the Family slowly trickle in to watch, giving her largely disapproving looks and the occasional muttering, but nothing for the moment. As she walks away, leaving any repercussions that might later come, she unscrews the cap of her flask (magically spared) and promptly drains it off as she heads home.
