Cafe Orion - Comorro Station - <Comorro Station> ~~ Above the door hangs a white oval sign in Terran Standard and Hekayan, proclaiming this place to be the Cafe Orion in sweeping round blue neon cursive. Upon entering the Cafe Orion, one might notice that there has been some serious attempt at making it seem far different then the rest of the locations to be found on Comorro Station. The ribs that arch over to serve as the ceiling have been covered up by navy blue fabric with fiberoptic lights running underneath; holes have been punched into it in the pattern of constellations and other space bodies from the Orion Arm, creating the feeling of being upon a planet's surface on a cool evening. They give the place a dark and cozy feel, without being too dim. The walls have been covered by various bits of wood, metal and plastic paneling, but between the gaps one can still make out the grey flesh that is the station. The menu consists of various simple but well-known Orion Arm food and drink items whose components can be substituted with local fare or grown on the ships. The items are delivered by a wait staff clad in black and white.
The wall opposite the wide double doors is taken up by a makeshift collection of letters, photographs and all the other various knickknacks that make up a life, but this sober little memorial to those left behind in the Orion Arm does little to pull down the atmosphere of the cafe itself. One length of the wall is taken up by a bar made of gleaming steel and topped by a slab of smooth glass which glows a gentle blue. In the corner across from the bar is a small, raised stage that gives just enough room for performers and their equipment. By day the cafe's floor is filled with round steel tables and matching chairs. At night, when the atmosphere livens up, they're replaced with a few gambling tables and a dance floor. Lively music usually fills the air and drinks flow freely... as long as one has something to barter with. ~~
Vessa Harden sits at the bar with a coffee cup in her right hand, her left arm in a sling. She seems rather deep in thought.
Another shift done, more fish 'n chips to wolf down. Franceza, freshly showered, drags her boots in, flops down in the stool next to Vessa. "Girl!" Which sums it up, apparently.
Vessa Harden snaps out of her thoughts and grins in Fran's direction, "Hey, wuzzup?" she turns to the side to be able to speak to her new neighbor a little easier and leans against the counter.
"Nothin'. Ain't that two degrees north of sublime?" Fran smiles wide, a hand waving at the barpkeep, fingers ordering a beer and lunch. Then needs to explain, "Same as yesterday." Sigh. "One beer, fish 'n chips. Yeah, no thanks." Back to Vessa, she continues like nothing came in between, "No more work for today! Least that I know of. An' you hon. You bumped into a door?"
"Door?" she looks down at the sling then back up with a wry grin, "Nah, I got to experience a brief career as a chew toy, I think they were called wildings and nasty critters as well. Good that you have no more work for the day, so what plans for your boundless stretches of free time?" sips the coffee and sighs happily. "I have to admit, this place brews a good bean."
Franceza snickers, slapping Vessa on the back, though taking care to make the gesture not too harsh or painful, "Ah, you was bait?" Somehow, to her point of view, makes sense. "Next time, you go wild on the wildlings, promise. As for me..." She purses her lips, maybe going over the zillion options. Then answers, "One beer, fish, chips, and just maybe... Sleep?"
Vessa Harden takes the back slap like this is normal, "Ah they just surprised me, what was even better is that there I am, enjoying the mountains with my significant other, buck naked, and here these large nasty beasts pop up, I grab my guns and shoot one, then a guy I know shows up, I pop a cap in the next beasty, and then another guy I know shows up, so there I am, stark naked, shooting critters with two guys getting an eyeful with more of these things on the way." she shakes her head, "I finally am able to get dressed and not long after that get clobbered by a fuzzball with teeth. I was all ready to kick the things ass but got teleported out too soon to give it what for." she grins, "Now that sounds like a good plan, food, beer, and sleep." she nods.
Franceza barks a laugh loud enough to catch about all ear in the bar, "Whoo girl, so that's one disappointed honey and two more with wet dreams to last for what, a fortnight?" Her beer arrives, and she lifts the glass in an admiring toast. "Some girls just have all the fun."
Vessa Harden laughs and raises her cup in a return toast, "Ah well, on a bright note I know that the other two made it out okay, actually in better condition then I did, the bastards." she says the term affectionately, "And now I am back to being stuck trying to keep busy. No 'strenuous activity'" she rolls her eyes at that, "My whole life is strenuous activity, what am I supposed to do, knit?" she chuckles, "And so, since I have all of this free time I thought I would come see if the coffee was as good as I remember here, it is." she sits in companionable silence for a few moments, "By the way, was Wormy giving you trouble? If I need to I can kick his as with my one arm while you take pot shots at him."
Sipping around a slow shake of head, the amusment lingers even when the spacer shrugs, "No trouble, just a bit rushed. I think. Invited me back in with Red Eclipse, but I ain't so sure all his buddies there would approve of me bein' there again. On account of past and shit and whatnot. He'll get over it."
Vessa Harden sighs and leans against the counter, "To be honest I don't know how many of us will be there soon. Too much unrest with no information on what is going to happen to the group. Personally, as much as I like Wormy as a teammate, I am not at all sure of him as a leader and I know he wants to buy the place out. There are others as well who I wouldn't stick around for." she shakes her head then grimaces, "That whole mess though, that wasn't your fault. Not much you could have done to prevent it, unless the past meaning the parts I don't know about, in which case screw em, it isn't their business."
That little speech earns Vessa two hands unceremoniously grabbing her face, Fran leaning in to hand out a big popping smooch - on a cheek. "Girl to my heart," she proclaims. "Is what I been sayin' all along. Wasn't me." She snickers, even to her ears that sounds silly.
Vessa Harden blinks in surprised for a few moments before chuckling softly then nodding, "Well that is true, it wasn't you. I may not have known the clone lady well but I sure as hell can tell the difference." she shakes her head, "Here I never knew so many women wanted to kiss me, she says teasingly.
"What," Franceza smirks, "Not the first today? Damn, all us hard workin' girls always end up last."
Vessa Harden shakes her head with a grin, "Nah, but the other one had the excuse of being my girlfriend so." she shrugs with her good shoulder, "She had reason I suppose. You might know her, she hands out on Comorro all the time, not sure how often she spends in the Docking Hub though. Her name is Maina."
Franceza is sitting at the bar nursing her beer beside Vessa nursing a coffee, the latter with her arm in a sling. Vessa also just got cheek smooched. "Nah, ain't no girlfriend material," the spacer snorts, "But not above applauding common sense. Of a sort then. So you stayin' with the mercs for now?"
Vessa Harden nods as she takes another sip, "Yeah, for now. I want to wait and see what happens with the ownership before I bail, if I bail. The group is good, Diri at least knew how to make a business out of a mercenary company and for all his faults, he was a leader I could follow into a fight. There are few who meet my standards for that. The question is, who can step up and continue, if not improve, upon what is already there. It would be a shame to see it go to waste."
"Don't lookat me," Franceza snorts, shying back a little, sipping, and handing out something close to a sigh of relief as fish and chips are served.
Not often a creature like Shinigami decides to frequent a cafe, tending to stay in the darker places of Hiverspace, but he's got specific purpose, the metal-winged mask-wearing humanoid making soft, slow steps to the counter.
Vessa Harden raises an eyebrow, "No worries, I mean if you felt the desire to rejoin the mercs then I would support you, and kick all asses who complained for being idiot assholes, but you don't sound like you want to rejoin and I am the last person who would try and convince someone who just doesn't want it." she looks over at Shinigami in curiosity as he moves closer to the counter, giving a friendly enough nod.
"Weeell," Fran stretches, even more when chewing, "Not sayin' I don't wanna per se or nothin', is more like a... Knowing where or when I'm not wanted kind deal? Been there one too many times already, feels like and I'm getting tired of toes I stepped on without even realising." Another bit of fish bites the dust and it's then that she follows Vessa's gaze, growing considerably quieter when staring at that mask. More precisely, the glowing embers inside that mask.
"Do you have it." The question sounds more like a command, Shinigami's 'eminating' from him rather than being spoke, voice sounding like someone speaking from an empty, deep well. The man can't help but turn a few shade paler than usual, bothering nodding and disappearing behind the back room. The gray-clad figure exudes cold. Not even in a metaphorical sense, the temperature noticably drops to any in a five foot radius about him. If he didn't move his head it might almost seem like a statue had been placed in his place. But his head turns just enough to view the living occupants in the room. When his 'sigh' lands on Vessa and Fran's table, it only lingers for a moment. He doesn't seem to have eyes, more like dark pits within the mask's eye holes, small pin points of orange light flicker like ghostly candles. It might seem like he's staring at Fran before the man behind the counter returns with s small package.
"Oi, as I said if you want to join and toes are stepped on about it then just let me know, I will back you up. You know, for mercs some of these people are too damn sensitive." she mutters as she takes another sip of coffee, she watches the man from over her cups rim before looking back to Fran, "You do what you want Fran, and don't let any ninny with an easily bruised ego stop you. If you don't want to rejoin, well then, that is another thing entirely." she nods with emphasis, "Bloody silly the way some of them carry on."
Still, Franceza shudders, not even attempting to hide the sentiment when Shinigami glances over. Then again, even the most die hard merc just might at that stare. "Maybe they need unsensitivity training," she murmurs, eyes pulled away from those ghastly eyes, though she keeps her attention on the general area of bartender and masked one. "Get their ears clipped. Nose pinched. You can do the ass kicking," she tells Vessa this way.
"The deed is done, our business is concluded." Shinigami 'says'. The man behind the counter looks a little hesitant. "So...it's over, right?" he asks, a tad bit nervously. A single nod is returned. "Your selfishness has been rewarded. He will no longer be a problem to you." is simple, blunt answer. The package disappears into the depths of his long coat. "How. How was it completed?" is the next question. The former Angel only tilts his head at him, causing the man to rapidly correct himself. "Yeah. Probably don't want to know." That said, Shini turns to walks away, only this time starting to leave does he regard Fran, looking down at her. "If you have issue with me, than I suggest you say something or stop staring." 'eyes' boring down on her.
"Hell yeah I will do the ass kicking if you need it, and we can call that unsensitiviy training." she is about to say more when Shinigami stops at the table and speaks to Fran, she blinks up at the guy, "Dude, it's cool. I doubt she meant it in offense."
Swallowing, barely preventing food going down the wrong way, Franceza stares up, though not quite meeting the eyes, picking a random spot on the mask instead, "No issue," she murmurs. "Heard nothin', seen nothin'." And for the rest, "What she said." The spacer's now too tense to eat though, putting down the chips she still held in her hand.
"Then do not look upon me as if you hate me if you do not have the conviction to say what you feel, mortal." Shinigami, echoing, cavernous voice says. But for the most part, he seems rather impartcial. A sniff, the sound of air sucking through holes in the noise. "You do not smell artifical. You must be the real one. Not the mindless, hollow shell I encountered not long ago. Much death has been caused over you, I have heard."
"Oi, that is enough dude. She is the real one and it wasn't her fault. You might be big scary immortal guy but come on, manners please." her voice goes colder and she leans forward, "As for looking on you with hate, I didn't see that. Maybe you should get your facts straight before you start accusing people of feeling things when they look at you. By the by, she doesn't have to say anything to you, conviction or no."
Franceza glances at Vessa, briefly, with a short smile of appreciation, but she can speak up for herself and does, after swallowing away that lump in her throat again, still sounding a bit tight from it, "Don't hate you. You scare me, won't lie, but... Unless you keep blaming me for the madness of others, ain't got no beef with you." Briefly she meets Shinigami's gaze, regrets it an instant later and shivers, goosebumps forming.
"Quite." is the single word response. Vessa might as well not exist to him, because he doesn't regard her presence. "I blame you for nothing. Your copy was a pox on this plane of reality. I had intended to kill it myself before it was done away with. It is a problem that you will have to deal with till the end of days. Of course, blame will not be piled upon you, however it does not mean there are those who will not do so anyways. Because you share the same face." His wings twitch a bit. "Apparently a man who was well liked died over you even though it wasn't you. Irony. And now the rest of those descend on his belongings like vultures." he leans up. "No blame. Only pity." That said, he turns and leaves, footfalls a whisper.
Vessa Harden glares at the back of the man as he leaves before looking at Fran, "Let what he said wash over you, it needn't touch you if you don't let it. Fuck those who toss blame like confetti, they are sad little people with nothing better to do. As for Diri's stuff and the ass wads who are fighting over it, fuck that too. It is only your problem if you let it be."
Franceza breathes again, when Shinigami is good and well leaving. "Ain't sensitive, but damn, that guy scares me shitless," she confides in Vessa, shivering violently to get the sentiment out of her system as quick as she can. "He's right do, there's plenty of people who will blame me and I'll have to deal with them at one point, no doubt. Whether it's my problem or not. Oh. *shiver* Fuck." She douses it with beer.
Shinigami stops in the hatchway, like a thought had crossed his mind. "Do you really think she was the only clone created? Do you not suppose others could have been created in her stead? Or a backup?" Pause. "And who is to say you are even the original? There would be no way to tell that one way or another. You would have no idea. I hear science can do many amazing things in plane of reality. Memory implants. Consider yourself, for you may be just another clone in the quest for revenge by a mad woman." That said, he glides out of the room, to do only what the demonic man knows.
Vessa Harden glares at the retreating man's back before looking at Fran again and using her good arm to pat the woman's hand, "Hey, that may be true that you have to deal with them at some point. But you don't need to do it alone, damn woman I already told you that I got your back and I mean it. Don't pull a Diri." she says with a pleading voice, "Don't let me fail here too, I am in your corner and I will stay there. As for not being the original or whatever shit that guy was spreading, who the fuck cares, you are you damnit and that is all that matters. Besides, as logical as his hypothesis initially sounds it is still bullshit, clones are expensive and time consuming beings to make, or so I am told, and you still have to keep them alive, the clone I met had no will of her own, no action was really truly taken without being told to do it. She was programmed with very rudimentary actions and reactions, and that was it. Just please, if you think there is someone gunning for you, let me have your back. I can't lose another friend that way, I'll break."
Who cares? Franceza, no doubt. The spacer's still staring the empty doorway, pale as a sheet. Even the glass in her hand shakes before she sets it down. Faintly she murmurs, "What if he's right." The idea alone is enough for her to grip that patting hand. "Forget shitless, fanculo, he's killing me."
Vessa Harden grips the hand back, "Hey, listen to me. Listen! You are not a clone, you have been living your life for how long? Even before that shit happened, and never had any desire to go and off Diri. You just kept right on going being Fran. You are nothing like her. Nothing!" she gives the hand a little shake in emphasis, "I met her remember. Besides, what would be the point of multiple clones, why potentially waste the resources making more then you know you need? The woman was insane but not stupid, or wasteful. Everything she did was well thought out, planned, and executed to the final detail. Making a clone and leaving her to work as a dock hand would have been stupid. You...Are....NOT....A.....Clone." she looks at Fran intensely as she says each word, trying to impress upon her the importance of what she says and that Vessa herself believes every word she speaks.
Franceza uuuughs, using her free hand to rub the headache away. "This shit sucks," she states, passionately. "You're right, but..." Lips crunch and she closes her eyes. "Thing is, I'm just bloody clueless about what to do. If I try to take responsibility for all the shit I pulled that I don't even remember, others tell me to let it go that it ain't me. And when I tell myself that alright, I don't need to do anything with it, someone comes along and rubs my face in it accusing me why I'm not payin' my debts. See what an amazing mood killer bein' me is?" She takes her hand back, but returns her eyes to Vessa, "Listen hon, seriously appreciating you callin' me a friend, but at the same time, how long you known me, mmh? Really. Won't hold it against you if you bail. Seriously. No guilt trip or nothin', just sayin' I get it and it'd be cool."
Vessa Harden lets her head fall against the table and drops it a couple more times for good measure before looking up, "See, that was because I thought I heard you say that it was cool for me to bail. Lets get something clear right now, if I like someone, get along with them, and get to know them enough to give a rats ass about them, then they are a friend. Don't care if that takes five years for five fucking seconds. I do NOT ditch my friends." she leans forward and looks Fran in the eye, "Ever." she says clearly, "And whether you think of me as a friend or not, I consider you one. Now that that is out of the way lets deal with item number two. You did NOT do this shit, that was a woman who terrified me, who made a clone of you and did shit using your name and face. What, is it Jesus's fault people commit atrocities and war in his name? No, nor is it yours so I don't care who comes and tells you to pay dues you don't owe, they are just looking for someone to blame, and you get to be top of the list for reasons that are not your fault. As for mood killer, yeah the spook had a burr up his ass and I am sure there are plenty others. Just keep in mind that you don't have to let it affect you and you don't have to take it either."
Franceza snorts a sigh in the end, "Your choice," she tells Vessa, though a note of warmth overrides the possible sting. She rises, sliding the credits for her mostly uneaten lunch and beer over to the bartender, teh reaches out to ruffle Vessa's hair, "You're alright, Vessa Harden, and if you keep on bein' stubborn like that, will at least try to be a decent friend in return. Promise." Sniff. Temple rub. "Right now though, it's me, a package of painkillers and a whole lotta sleep."
Vessa Harden nods with a half grin, "Damn straight it's my choice." she says in a light tone, a wider grin on the ruffled hair before nodding in turn, "Sound good to me, feel better and if you ever need me you call, even if it is just someone to knock back a couple of beers with and hang." she raises her good hand in a wave.