|
Neidermeyer is, at the moment, perched in one of the calcified air sacs. He's gnawing on something that might be mistaken for a turkey leg, except it's purple and red. His face is stubbled with gray-black beard. There's an ugly scar tracing the right cheek. His suit, once a snazzy gray affair, is rather tattered from time and abuse. One of his black leather shoes is missing. The left foot is bare.
Along the way comes Bri, the small Sivadian keeping vigilant as she scans the area carefully. "If we do come this direction, we'll have to do something about that fuzzball," she says to the others with her. She doesn't seem to have noticed Neidermeyer just yet.
Jaswinder is tagging along after Bri, the Timonae walking around with the general air of looking forward to whatever variety of excitement might decide to happen to him. "I did offer to help with that, I think. Or did I forget to?"
A derisive snort escapes one of Bri's companions -- a girl only slightly taller than she is. "Well now, 'at all d'pends on what kinda somethin' yer wantin' ta do," she replies, a sly sort of smile following. "Cause lemme tellya what, kid. 'Ere's somethin, an' 'ere's -somethin'-, 'ey?" Kestrel winks and fishes a cigarette out of her jacket, lighting it and taking a grateful drag as she stalks along beside the Sivadian.
Neidermeyer grunts at the sound of voices speaking a relatively familiar language. Outversers! His eyes narrow and he shifts back a little deeper into the alcove, clutching the meaty leg in his fist like a cudgel.
"Aye, you did offer. I'm going to take you up on it, luv," Bri replies with an impish smile up at the Timonae. She shifts her attention to Kes then, "Have we ever done anything ha - " she cuts short right there as movement from the corner of her eye catches her attention and she peers closer at the person that moved.
Jaswinder pauses as Bri does, his attention also turning. "...Well. Company? Not *too* surprising, down here..."
Kestrel goes alert about the same time Bri does, eyes narrowing slightly as she too turns toward the movement. "Watcherself, kid," she comments quietly, taking a few steps forward. "'Ey, you. Yeah you. Why don'tcha come out wheres we kin seeya, 'ey?" Ostensibly, she's addressing Neidermeyer. At least, she's looking generally in the direction of where he's hiding as she speaks.
The man in the alcove sighs, shaking his head. He flings the leg aside. "Tastes like feet, anyway." He shuffles forward, drops a couple of feet to the floor, and limp-steps toward the trio. "Hot enough for you?" he inquires conversationally.
Bri nods almost imperceptively to Kes and lets her take the lead as the gunslinger addesses the man. When he comes forward though her eyes go wide, "Um...Kes....?" yes, the little Sivadian is actually speechless for a moment before she finds her voice again, "I'm recalling something from the museum...the one that talks about the space port on TK and how it got its name."
Jaswinder blinks at Bri. "...You know this one?" he asks carefully. "You aren't running for cover, so ...how much danger are we talking, exactly?"
"...Psh. No way," Kes says, first tilting her head at the man that emerges from the alcove, then eyeing Bri dubiously. She waves a hand dismissively. "'At ain't 'im. 'E's taller." She nods sagely, then shrugs at Neidermeyer and studies him a little more closely. "I dunno. Reckon y'ain't bad. An'... well, now 'at I look atcha a li'l bit closer... Say. You gotta name, chief?"
Neidermeyer shrugs. "Either you'll believe me or you won't. Honestly, I don't give three shits one way or another, but, now that I think of it, maybe you ought to believe me just the same. The name's Colin Neidermeyer. I came over here with four other clones courtesy of the Kamir Express." He scratches at the stubble on his cheeks. "Anyone packing smokes? I need a smoke. The only cigs they pass around down here are some foofy Gankri hallucinogenic shit that smells like an armpit."
Bri shakes her head at Jazz's question, "Nope," is her short reply as she looks the man over with yellow-green eyes which shift toward Kes, "Yeah..you might be ri - " she cuts short again and looks back at the man, then back to Kes with an 'are you thinking what I'm thinking look'.
The quartet are in the shady hideouts, the two women and Timonae escort standing near one of the calcified air sacs as they speak with a man that looks like he just stepped right out of a history book..if that history book had been dragged through the gutter a few times.
Jaswinder watches the two women have their silent conversation, and then fishes in a pocket for a battered pack of cigarettes, which he holds out wordlessly to the battered human. Apparently having nothing to say means saying nothing - at least for now.
Tamila makes her way into the area, almost seeming at home in her soundings but that doesn't make her any less cautious. She makes her way though the area, fingers absently tapping against her waist.
Kestrel, for her part, looks stunned for a few moments, her mouth hanging open slightly. It causes her cigarette to just dangle, apparently stuck to her lip. "It -is- you!" she says after she rescues the errant death-stick into her hand, peering wide-eyed up at Neidermeyer. "An' yeah, ya don' wanna touch 'at Gankri stuff. Ech. Give ya th'screamin' meemies somethin' bad, yessir."
Neidermeyer accepts the pack with a nod to Jaswinder. He plucks out a cigarette, then tucks the pack into the inside left pocket of his jacket. Poking the cigarette into his mouth, he pats at his other pockets. Nothing. He rolls his eyes. "Fucking plasma lighter. Lost it to that one-legged Hekayti in a poker game. Of course, he had it worse. He lost to a Gankri with his ass on the line. Literally. Randy mutant space kangaroos aren't to be taken lightly. I hear it lasted a few days. Eventually, the Hekayti cut his own throat to end it." A beat, then, "Great weather we're having. No rain in weeks."
Bri simply blinks as Neidermeyer speaks and at his last comment she peers, "That's the nice thing about living in the arse end of a spacewhale," she replies with a soft snicker as she looks him over one more time, "Look like you could use a drink though," she adds then looks to the others, "Whatta you guys think?" she doesn't seem to have noticed Tamila just yet.
Jaswinder shrugs. "Sure," he says. "Someone else can buy though. I supplied the smokes. Looks like there's a story in the air, might be worth knowing about."
"...Wonder if'n 'at was th'same H'kayti... nawwwwww, couldn't be," Kes says, seemingly talking to herself. She shakes her head. "I didn't shoot 'im so bad 'e woulda lost 'is leg..." Pause. Blink. "I think." She takes a drag on her own cigarette, then pats down her pockets briefly before offering a cheap disposable lighter to Neidermeyer. A nod's given to Bri. "Sure, I'd buy 'im a round'r two. Hells, th'man's gotta -spaceport- named after 'im, 'ey?"
Tamila makes her way up to one of the entrances of one of the hardened sacks, hand slipping into her coat. She feels for something inside, making a face when she doesn't locate what she's after. She opens the coat and peers at the internal pocket, and heaves a sigh when her hand falls out the bottom. "Scummer lovin' crap," she grumbles, as she turns and starts to head further into the Shady Hideouts.
"Drinks?" Neidermeyer takes the lighter, flicks it to life, ignites the tip of the cigarette. The lighter joins the newly acquired cigarettes in the jacket pocket. He takes a drag on the cigarette. Shrugs. "Not much for beer hall socializing right now, much as I appreciate the sentiment. Maybe another time. Gotta get some new threads. Get my shoe back from that Lotorian whore peddler. You know how it is." He wanders back toward the shadowy air sac, resting on it like it's a bench. "Since you're here, though, maybe I can do you a favor. I had a bit of a falling out with myselves."
"Well...maybe next time then? I mean...she's right. In our time and place you have a frickin' spaceport named after you," Bri replies, one brow raising slightly. She pauses for a moment, seeming to consider something and her attention is pulled to Tam, a smile and a nod of greeting given before she turns back to the scruffy man, "Okay..now you sound like Mr. Stu..um..." she fumbles with the words a moment, "...why is it that stuff that starts out like that sounds more like we're going to end up doing you the favor?"
"Cos you're a really perceptive little schoolgirl," drawls Jazz, amused. "Billions of people vanish into clusters of atoms. This kid gets saved multiple times over. Guess it's good to be loved by the gods." He looks the human over from head to toe. "Relatively speaking."
"Lady, you want to do *me* a favor? Kill me," Neidermeyer replies, grunting a puff of smoke as he taps ash on the ground. "I washed my hands of the whole fucking thing. I didn't want to get involved. Still don't. I'll leave the hero shit to people willing to die for it." He shakes his head. "I've had more than one spaceport named after me. I've been a general, a president, a crime lord, and king of my own goddamned homeworld. I've died a few times more than most people, it's true. But, you know what? I remember it all. Every pain. Every agony. Fresh as if it happened yesterday. The victories? I remember those too. But the bad shit? Yes. Wake up in the middle of the night screaming shit right there."
Kestrel tilts her head at Neidermeyer. "...Huh. Sounds like what happens when Laz'rus tech goes all... y'know, wonky on ya." She snorts. "Never did trust 'at stuff. Eh." A brow is raised then, and a slow shrug given. "If'n ya really wanna die, reckon 'at ain't too much ta ask. But first, what's all 'is 'bout yer clones?"
"Think we've all got our things that have us doing that. Hell's....got shot down in Ritter's market....and blown up over on the second level..what was the name of that street?" she pauses thoughtfully for a moment and glances to Kes then back to Neidermeyer, "Right, she's got a point. What're you saying about your dopplegangers?" She does glance back at Jazz with a bright smile, "It's the way the universe works. No rest for the wicked, luv."
Jaswinder smiles wryly. "I know that as well as he does," he says blandly, nodding toward Neidermeyer. "So when you've got the answers you want, if he's serious I'll snap his neck for him."
Neidermeyer studies the smoldering tip of his cigarette for a few moments. "Touch my fucking neck and I'll hunt you down from the grave, skull fuck your progeny, and I'll use your body to upholster my shiny new chair back on Earth-I-love when I get home." His eyes shift from the cigarette to the gathered Outversers. "My four friends have gone their separate ways, each with his own agenda. One got it in his head to work for the Zar, so he's going to be gunning for that Hekayti holy man - Zeig. Another said 'Fuck that, Leroy,' and is actively working on a plan to assassinate the Zar. One decided that what he really wanted to do is become a pirate, so he can show the Medlidikke how it's really done. The other...well, he's looking to blow up our friend Comorro. I couldn't get him to explain *why*, exactly." He lifts a finger to touch the scar on the side of his face. "But I did get an answer before he left. I just didn't like it very much."
The little Later stifles a giggle at Neidermeyer's initial outburst,, though she quiets it quickly enough when he starts speaking about the other four clones. "...So. Seems like two'a 'em's what we gotta worry 'bout 'ere," Kes reasons, nodding slowly. The cigarette gets perched on her lip, and she shoves her hands into her pockets. "Th'one what wants ta blow C'morra outta th'stars, an' th'one what's after th'priest." She wrinkles her nose. "Th'other ones, well. Li'l less reachable, 'ey? Ain't 'bout ta go knockin' on Medlidikke doors 'r nothin'."
Bri tilts her head to one side curiously, "Um...what did he actually say?" she asks, her brows drawing together with concern. She looks to Kes, "We gotta worry about the priest? Can't we just let somebody off him and leave it at that? Or you got a reason to want him around?" She looks between Jazz and Neidermeyer, "He's useful though..." she mutters to the scruffy man as she gives a look in Jazz's direction.
The trio are standing near one of the calcified air sacks as they speak with a scruffy man that's leaning against said air sack.
Jaswinder raises an eyebrow. "Guess the nightmares aren't as bad as all that, then, huh," he says mildly. "Give my regards to my soulmate if you try it. She'll be the one that brought the crocodiles to the party." He pauses, then adds, "You've said what all your twins are doing. What did *you* decide to do?"
"Maybe I was too subtle about the 'when I get home' part," Neidermeyer snarls. "I hear that B'hiri bigwig, Okaskatitch, has a ship that'll go from here to normalspace. I hear he might even be willing to use it to flip over, get a look around, see if things are as bad as the Kamir claim. Good or bad, though, I plan to *stay* once we're over there. Time and circumstance allowed me to become a little more open-minded about aliens and everything, but, uh, this place? Too fucked up for my liking. Give me Earth-I-love. If we really are in 2651, Earth's alive and well. No plasma bombings! I'm sure I could prove useful to the Vanguard."
Plumpaw seems to tumble in from...wherever Demarians tumble in from. Mostly the tall cat seems to relish the though of standing up straight and stretching, before she notices the pair of familiar people mixed in the cluster of familiar species. That's the direction her footpaws take her.
Kestrel shrugs vaguely, then gives a slow nod. "Wonder what it'd take ta git 'im ta do it, though," she says, thoughtful. She shifts her attention to Bri. "Dunno 'bout you, but I want 'im 'live cause th'Zar wants 'im dead," is her simple reply, a second shrug offered to the Sivadian. And then, a blank blink is given at Jazz. "...Crocodiles. Atta party. You serious?"
Bri nods at Kes' reply and quirks her lips, "Alright..." she replies softly then looks over at Neidermeyer, "There's no guarantee that you'd end up in whatever time you want...unless that spider can get so specific as to find a precise year to end up in. Either way..doesn't sound like you're going in our direction anyway." There's a moments pause and then she adds, "Of course if you wanted to stay...we could always use another brain in our group."
Jaswinder smiles a bit wryly at Kes. "Yeah, actually. Don't worry, I'll know her when I see her. Kind of beside the point at the moment. It seems somebody that looks like this kid wants to kill Comorro. Maybe we oughta, you know, tell her. Or something. Or at least go hang on the inside of a ship with life support turned on."
The former King of Earth, the erstwhile ruler of Tomin Kora, and the man who gives cockroaches a run for their money, Colin Neidermeyer clambers back up into his little alcove in the bowels of Comorro. "Yeah, go talk to her. I'll think about what you said. Maybe when I get a sense that it's safe to crawl out of my cubby hole and head topside, we can talk more."
"What about shipping?" Plum asks, arriving just a bit too late to really get a Neidermeyer-look. All she sees is scampering.
"Hokay," Kes says, offering a helpless little shrug in Neidermeyer's direction, before turning back to Bri. "Yeah... muckin' with time an' space stuff, ech." She blinks at Jazz again then. "Uh. So. Why -crocodiles-?" A hand is waved enthusiastically at the Demarian. "Hiya Plummy!"
Bri watches the former ruler of TK and man with a spaceport named after him, take off into the deeper recesses of Comorro, "Good meeting you either way," she offers with a quirky smile before turning to face the others, "Yes...why?" she asks before offering a wave and a brighter smile in Plum's direction.
Jaswinder blinks, evidently rather surprised to be asked. "Oh...kind of a long story, but the *short* version is I poisoned her son, instead of babysitting him. She got a bit cheesed."
"'Aallo," Plum nods to Bri, and Kes, lifting a paw in greeting.
Kestrel eyes Jaswinder, and tilts her head far, -far- to one side. "...Jazz. You an' me, we's sittin' down over drinks one day, an' you -are- gonna 'splain 'at one," she says. "Cause 'at's jest too 'Kari-cursed weird fer any one person ta make up. Even a Timmie." The little Later winks, then salutes sloppily. "M'gonna git back. Kanter 'erself only knows what Josh's set on fire 'r blown up while I was down 'ere." With that, she scampers off toward the Forgotten Quarter proper.
Bri watches Kes go, then looks back to Jazz, "I suppose that being a woman she didn't quite care about the reasons why you poisoned the little scamp?" she asks, "And I'd be willing to buy drinks to hear the rest of that one," she adds with a snicker.
Jaswinder winces, rubbing the back of his neck. "It's a long story," he says. "And there's better stories going on right now. Like that guy's clone wanting to blow up Comorro. Don't you think?"
"They're willin' to buy drinks for it," Plumpaw observes, holding up a finger for emphasis. "That must mean it's preee-tty interestin.'"
Bri shrugs and nods, "I guess..." she says softly, "So...off we go to find Comorro's avatar?" she asks with a sad look to her eyes.
Jaswinder wrinkles his nose. "The only reason I tell you guys the truth so often is you usually have the sense not to believe it. I'm allowed to pretend, or what's reincarnation good for? Let's go ...wait, I think Comorro's avatar might still be kaput. That'd make it the gearclanger hub we have to get to."