A Rat in the nighttime.

[Anonymous]

The Rat snuck around the nightclub, looking for some poor sod to pick off and steal from. He wanted someone rich and stupid: someone who looked out of place in the bar. The Rat was clever, the Rat was cunning. The Rat needed barter that the Psychics couldn't find.

He found what he was looking for: a young man who practically oozed arrogance but didn't have the balls to follow through. He followed the man a short way, keeping to the shadows and dodging the surveillances cameras.

He needed something good or Darga would kill him. He had already lost his pinkies to her, tomorrow it would be his tongue. He slipped the small pulse-emitter down his sleeve and into his hand, waiting for the right moment.

It came when the man stood in front of a side street. The Rat scooped up some rubble and threw it to the other side of the man. As expected he looked around and took a step back. The Rat had the man looking right at him. The Rat flipped the switch and blinded the man, easy as pie.

With the man blinded it was little problem to push the man back into the side-street and do away with him. The bastard put up a fight but that was little problem for the second-hand pulse emitter.

The Rat efficiently stripped the man of his clothes and valuables before shoving the man into the very corner of the street.

[Anonymous]

There were many questions an alien could ask himself.  Inquiries concerning their purpose, their agenda, or their location.  For this particular alien, of a breed of rather brute-sized humanoids known as Yavarians, it was the latter.  For years after his service to the Yavar Sky Force II, Rhyrec had been wandering the galaxy and had been in awe of his findings but this planet was a strange one indeed; stranger than the jungle mountains of Drome and more hostile than the sanctions of the military regime of Halexa.  But what was he to do about such things?  He was but a lone Yavarian on a foreign planet.

Of course, he didn't just punch in the system codes for this place without doing a little research of his own about his place called Earth.  There were horrid things he heard from certain inhabitants of the Space Stations about Aedolis but he thought it best to investigate for himself.  Then again that wasn't the reason for him venturing down to the nation itself.  As a matter of fact, Rhyrec needed someone who could provide him certain services that couldn't be had upon either human dwellings.

As he strode down the dark street in this city that humans called the Synesthesia part of a city known as Haviah, he fingered the guns he'd worked so tediously on and meticulously for a time in his holsters and thought savagely of the damn parts that smashed when the guns were fell from about three hundred meters in the sky to the solid ground.  He considered himself lucky that he had found them again before they were stolen.  He may have been an alien but that was no excuse to remain ignorant about such things.

Rhyrec had heard of these people called Pilots and what they wanted with psychics.  He was one, as ever born-and-bred Yavarian was, and used his mental strength to cast down his presence in every mind available in the area.  As he rounded a corner, he noticed a shape shuffling a body into a shadowy corner.  There were a few subsequent grunts that noted that perhaps this person was small but nonetheless Rhyrec strode forward on the off chance that perhaps this person might know where he might find some guns.  Not the run o' the mill farmhand pistols but the top, military-grade stuff like what he currently carried on him.  Well...pistols that weren't smashed to simplify the matter.

He carefully unveiled his presence to that lone mind as he approached the shadow and opened his mouth in the Common that had come so easily to him.  "Hey, do you know where I might find some equipment?"

[Anonymous]

The Rat stood up and slipped the pulse-emitter up his sleeve. He didn't trust strangers, even those asking for weapons. 'What equipment? What do I look like, a shop? Go use your credit elsewhere boyo,' he snapped. He stood up and tried to hide the corpse with his body.

After a few moments thought he changed his mind. If the man was genuine and brought custom to Darga, the Rat may just keep his tongue long enough to pay back the debt. An angry Darga scared him. He felt sure she could kill him with even something as simple as a paper-clip. She was so inconspicuous too, she could almost pop out anywhere and look like she belonged. The only thing he knew for sure about her was that she wasn't a mage or a psychic. If she was she would have killed him for what he thought about.

'What sort of equipment were you looking for anyway?' asked as he scratched his head. He sounded off the cuff, uninterested and tried to make his appearance echo his voice. If he didn't and this was some psycho or Pilot, he could could the minutes of his life on his hands: eight minutes. He'd give the man two and then he'd split.

[Anonymous]

Rhyrec was only slightly taken aback by the tiny man's abrasive attitude.  But thankfully, he wasn't the type to be easily scarred.  He hoped this would be an easier situation but alas, perhaps the other wouldn't make it so simple after all.  And to think, all he wanted to do was buy a gun.  Of course, much of the Yavarian's mental strength remained intact, save for what the damaged inhibitor chip kept at bay, and he felt that he could invade the mind of this creature rather easily, had he wished.  But Yavarian discipline scorned such use of power and despite abhorring the ways of his old world, this was one lesson Rhyrec held close to his heart.

The alien stood stupidly like a giant in the dark but quickly brought an answer to his lips in case the smaller man had a short fuse.  He didn't like conflict, no true Yavarian ever did, but he wouldn't hesitate to defend himself should the occasion arise.  "Look, chief," Rhyrec snapped casually, clenched a gloved hand a little before releasing it to relieve himself of compounding stress.  "I only want a pair of pistols.  Not the poor-man's stock, but the latest in military grade.  That is... if you know where I can find something like that.  Just simple replacements that all.  Something I can use in the meantime," he finished, before pulling out on of the damaged pistols at his side and revealing its state to the man before him.  "D'ya think you know where I can find something like these?  Well...er, something...not broken?"

[Anonymous]

The man wanted pistols; Darga sold pistols. She considered projectiles to be outdated but she still kept a few on hand. 'Hypothetically, I might know of somebody,' the Rat sneered. Darga's methods of payment weren't always pleasent. 'You might not finish your business with them with all your fingers though.'

He lifted his hands up to demonstrate that two were missing. If the man was willing to risk Darga, then he would definitely be serious about getting a proper (and perhaps illegal) gun. The Rat eyed the gun. It looked like it had been well made, something the military would use. The man was into some heavy duty sh** if he wanted something like that. A replacement would cost him a pretty sum of Edanithian cash, which would make Darga happy. What made Darga happy made the Rat happy.

'I don't know what she might have but I'm sure she'd have something a little more exciting than a pistol.' Curse it! He'd mentioned that his contact was a she. Slipping information was dangerous, and what was dangerous for Darga meant less fingers for the Rat.

[Anonymous]

Rhyrec glared down at the man as he demonstrated his missing digits quizzically before retorting smartly, "I'll keep all my fingers, thanks."  There was something strange in the air that was for sure.  Something unlike what the giant person was used to, but, to add to it's enigmatic entirety, Rhyrec didn't feel fear from it.  It was almost too exciting to be doing dirty dealings with someone who had the right connections.  However, in reality, this was and aspect the Yavarian already knew he would have to do.  After all, you couldn't buy guns like his in some second-hand shop.

He combed a large hand through his blonde hair and listened to what the person had further to say.  A she, huh?  Then this person wasn't hypothetical at all, but Rhyrec was careful to appear as if he was another dumb alien.  "Well, if this this hypothetical supplier of yours has what I need, then you don't have to worry about my hypothetical creds."  He grinned convincingly and awaited what might be this person's response.

In complete honesty, Rhyrec indeed did bear the money for what he'd imagine his requested equipment would cost.  Indeed probably more than most honest workers made in a year, but Rhyrec had grown accustomed to his miscellaneous work as a mercenary and no doubt had accumulated a handsome amount of cash.  As much as he would pay for a new set of guns, he doubted it would cost as much as it would to repair the ones he already had.

[Anonymous]

OOC: arrrg, must-complete-post!

If the man was willing to risk a few fingers, that meant he might be harder to handle. The Rat wasn't sure. The Rat didn't like being unsure and this stranger made him nervous. The Rat pulled his sleeves back over his fingers and felt for his gun. It was a habit he had: twitchy fingers. If the giant made any trouble, he'd end up like the man in the corner.

'Good. If you've got the creds, wait around the corner, I have to finish off some business. Drop something if someone comes,' he said. He also didn't like relying on someone he just met but there was the ransacked corpse to attend to and he didn't want to share the goods. The Rat didn't really care about the body but there was some fine pickings just sitting next to it.

He could always kill the tall man and take the "creds". It was just a thought, and a profitable one at that. If he could get away without Darga knowing he'd killed a potential customer, it would be the more beneficial option.

[Anonymous]

Rhyrec crossed his arms over his massive chest; though it would have been ironic to point out that he was indeed the smallest in his family.  Yavarians were notoriously large humanoids and the very image of them was more likely than not going to be a cause for intimidation to smaller beings.  But he didn't care.  All he wanted were his damn guns.

As the smaller man departed with instructions to alert him if an intruder was found, the alien obeyed and walked away to the indicated corner.  With little effort, he continued to suppress his presence in the minds of all that might be in the area, excluding the man who left to do whatever the hell it was he was wasting time doing.  Out of sheer curiosity, he brushed across the man's mind slightly.  Tiny.  Just as I suspected, he thought smugly.  But as he retreated, he caught a glimpse of a malevolent thought and his senses were alarmed.  Kill me, eh?  Like hell he will!  Rhyrec had hoped there would be no need for confrontation, and was a little disappointed that this would be one of those sticky situations.

Still, he waited, patiently to the point where he leaned up against the building behind him.  He sensed another presence in the area, a cold, lifeless one at that, but persisted in keeping himself steady.  As long as the man suspected nothing, he would best be able to pierce through any guise, if this person did indeed want to kill him.  Just because his guns were busted didn't mean he was defenseless; years of training in the esoteric arts of his home world would indeed pay off if it came down to belligerence.

And he continued to wait.

[sorry for the delay.  School and Persona 3 took over my life for a bit.]

[Anonymous]

The Rat rummaged around the corpse wile listening for any signs of movement. He didn't trust the other creature, if any military personelle came past it was just as likely that the man might deny any involvement with The Rat.

He'd been right about the dead man, he'd been packing. The Rat dug the man's chip from out of him and stole everything of value. The man even had a small laser gun. It was compact and lightweight. It looked more like a child's toy than anything; hopefully it wasn't. That would not impress Darga.

Now to hide the body. He had no way of bringing it with him. The Rat had no matter compressors. He could however turn the body invisible. It would last three hours but then the body would still be trackable. The Rat lit the body then turned it invisible. No smoke or any other signs could be seen. Only a stench or burning flesh told of what lay in the dark.


A woman staggered down the street, her lips wrapped around a wine bottle in a tacky leather bottle holder. She stumbled, fell to the floor and grumbled about worthless men and aliens. She attempted to get upbut fell over, hissing again. She sat there and stared at her bottle, shaking it and frowning as though it was empty.

She pulled the bottle out of the holder and threw it at the ground. The sound of shattering glass pierced the night. The woman turned so that she was sitting against the wall partially facing the alley. She just sat there swaying with her eyes closed and her hands near her head.

The woman was unremarkable in appearance and of an undeterminable age. Her face was covered by a dirty hoody several sizes too big for her. She sniffed at the air and coughed. Facing the wall she dry wretched and muttered about men yet again: the stench of men, how useless they were and how they should be drowned in their own filth.

Her mind was more confusing though. She was thinking of numbers, counting out of order as though she couldn't remember how: 61, 7, 135, 2, 48, 59... The numbers echoed throughout her whole mind, scrambling any other thoughts or memories as though they were a potent drug. She seemed completely inebriated.

[Anonymous]

Rhyrec couldn’t say he trusted the street rabble anymore than either.  How often was it that he had to sneak onto an imperialistic planet just to find the right people with whom he might need shady equipment from?  Not every sun burst that was for sure.  Back on Yavar, you didn’t need things like guns to survive for just being one with the elements and with the land, you could survive countless things.  But not for Rhyrec, no, he was a little more practical than that.  He’d fought in a war, he knew what it was like to have a handy blaster at your side when the time came up to need it.  It was like his old friends used to say, “Better to have it and not need it, than to need it and not have it.”

He flexed his gloved hands as he waited for the other one to finish his business, but for all his Yavarian training in his native fighting arts, he was beginning to lose his patience.  He still kept a look-out for anyone, ready to alert the other guy shuffling around in the alley if there was anyone here.   When he found himself clutching his empty holsters quite annoyed, Rhyrec whispered harshly into the alley, “Hey, chief, can we get a move on here, or what?”

[Anonymous]

The Rat heard shattering glass then the strange alien calling out to him. Curses! How stupid is this guy?! though the Rat as he scuttled out of the alley. HIs eyes flicked around the area, making sure there was nobody around.

There was.

On the side of the road a drunk woman sat, swaying behind a broken bottle. The Rat would kill her and then this stupid guy who didn't know how to keep guard. If he was too stupid to know the basics, he was too stupid to see Darga. She'd kill The Rat if he ever brought such a stupidly innocent person.

'Don't ever do that! Don't ever call out "get a move on" when someone's on a job,' he hissed in an almost inaudible voice. 'Do you want to get us caught?'

'LOUZHY MAN-FREAKSH!' slurred the silently counting woman. The shout had The Rat grab for his gun, ready to blast the woman to bits if she did something.