An orb to fill the hole in his soul
Apr 28, 2006 20:06:20 GMT
Post by Musashi on Apr 28, 2006 20:06:20 GMT
Midnight landed in Guinness after a day of travel. He could have taken the trip in an instant with his transmission ability, but something within begged him to travel more slowly. The wind had blow past his armor, and the mercenary was lost in thought. He had one orb, one step of seven towards recovering his rightful place amongst the Juin elite. The mercenary wandered through the industrial nation. “A nation of corporate whores,” he thought.
Despite his long separation from Juin, some traits still carried through, and Midnight couldn't stand those who he thought weak, or cowardly. He found an alleyway off the main streets where he would not be disturbed, ducking into a doorway and dropping his stealth ability. He stripped his armor and shoved it into a dufflebag, replacing it with a set of relatively neutral civilian cloths. He added a wig of slightly longer hair, to cover his military buzz cut, tucking his thin warrior braid beneath the wigs top. He also quickly slid in a pair of colored contacts, making his bright eyes more dim and less recognizable.
Midnight went as far as to reapply the makeup like solution that he used to disguise his skin. The last thing he wanted was to stand out, to draw attention, and having the Juin glow was a quick way to get that unwanted interest.
Feeling suitably dressed, he slung the bag over his shoulder and wandered out into the streets like any other tourist to the great city. Paranoia ran strong, and he spent the next several hours just wandering from place to place, taking in the storefronts and “shopping” for useless trinkets which he would never actually purchase for himself. Midnight laughed inside when a storekeeper stuck up his nose at his relatively plain dress. Midnight was probably one of the richest tourists in the city that day, but the other man couldn't know this.
Finally, as the night went on, he headed back toward the hotel district. He chose his area carefully, knowing that the authorities would investigate all foreigners. He chose a middle price range hotel, not cheap enough to make them wonder if he was hiding out, but not expensive enough that they would look in to where his money was coming from. Midnight trusted his fake identification papers, but he was not one to take chances and avoiding close scrutiny would allow him to use the same identification multiple times without suspicion.
He signed in with the desk clerk, who eyed his passport with a casual air. “Welcome Mr. Mason, please enjoy your stay with us!” the man said in the obnoxious overenthusiastic customer service trained voice. “If I may suggest that you try our shopping district while you are here? We have a larger variety of stores and outlets then any city on Eden, well worth the trip.”
The mercenary nodded noncommittally, playing the part of a weary traveler. He took the keys from the man and wandered up the hall. Midnight walked into his room and put his bag down. His natural sense were attuned. He knew that many countries typically steered out of country guests toward rooms with listening equipment, and it would not do to have his profession revealed. He reached into his bag and began unpacking clothing, like he was setting up for his stay. Each time he reached into the bag, however, he was actually priming the device.
Finally, he heard a pattern of three distinct beeps and he knew he was alone. The jamming field would keep him protected. He pulled the armor out of his bag piece at a time and got out a cleaning kit. He wiped the salt off the plates, and carefully applied an oil solution to preserve the material. He buffede away the scratches, polishing them over and applying an acrylic flat black paint so that his armor would ever and always look like the black suit of death.
Upon completing this, he set to work on his weapons, constructing and repairing them, replacing any defective components with spares and cleaning the contacts. When he felt the task was complete, he walked and put everything carefully back in his bag, killing the jamming device as he did so. His excuse was to pour a glass of water from the jar they left on his dresser. With that, the mercenary walked back and lay in the uncomfortable hotel bed. Tomorrow, he would begin the search for his second orb, but tonight he would rest and recover from the trials of the previous few days.
Despite his long separation from Juin, some traits still carried through, and Midnight couldn't stand those who he thought weak, or cowardly. He found an alleyway off the main streets where he would not be disturbed, ducking into a doorway and dropping his stealth ability. He stripped his armor and shoved it into a dufflebag, replacing it with a set of relatively neutral civilian cloths. He added a wig of slightly longer hair, to cover his military buzz cut, tucking his thin warrior braid beneath the wigs top. He also quickly slid in a pair of colored contacts, making his bright eyes more dim and less recognizable.
Midnight went as far as to reapply the makeup like solution that he used to disguise his skin. The last thing he wanted was to stand out, to draw attention, and having the Juin glow was a quick way to get that unwanted interest.
Feeling suitably dressed, he slung the bag over his shoulder and wandered out into the streets like any other tourist to the great city. Paranoia ran strong, and he spent the next several hours just wandering from place to place, taking in the storefronts and “shopping” for useless trinkets which he would never actually purchase for himself. Midnight laughed inside when a storekeeper stuck up his nose at his relatively plain dress. Midnight was probably one of the richest tourists in the city that day, but the other man couldn't know this.
Finally, as the night went on, he headed back toward the hotel district. He chose his area carefully, knowing that the authorities would investigate all foreigners. He chose a middle price range hotel, not cheap enough to make them wonder if he was hiding out, but not expensive enough that they would look in to where his money was coming from. Midnight trusted his fake identification papers, but he was not one to take chances and avoiding close scrutiny would allow him to use the same identification multiple times without suspicion.
He signed in with the desk clerk, who eyed his passport with a casual air. “Welcome Mr. Mason, please enjoy your stay with us!” the man said in the obnoxious overenthusiastic customer service trained voice. “If I may suggest that you try our shopping district while you are here? We have a larger variety of stores and outlets then any city on Eden, well worth the trip.”
The mercenary nodded noncommittally, playing the part of a weary traveler. He took the keys from the man and wandered up the hall. Midnight walked into his room and put his bag down. His natural sense were attuned. He knew that many countries typically steered out of country guests toward rooms with listening equipment, and it would not do to have his profession revealed. He reached into his bag and began unpacking clothing, like he was setting up for his stay. Each time he reached into the bag, however, he was actually priming the device.
Finally, he heard a pattern of three distinct beeps and he knew he was alone. The jamming field would keep him protected. He pulled the armor out of his bag piece at a time and got out a cleaning kit. He wiped the salt off the plates, and carefully applied an oil solution to preserve the material. He buffede away the scratches, polishing them over and applying an acrylic flat black paint so that his armor would ever and always look like the black suit of death.
Upon completing this, he set to work on his weapons, constructing and repairing them, replacing any defective components with spares and cleaning the contacts. When he felt the task was complete, he walked and put everything carefully back in his bag, killing the jamming device as he did so. His excuse was to pour a glass of water from the jar they left on his dresser. With that, the mercenary walked back and lay in the uncomfortable hotel bed. Tomorrow, he would begin the search for his second orb, but tonight he would rest and recover from the trials of the previous few days.