driftfleet | Why'd You Kill the Merchant?!

[Wrath leads the way. She walks very briskly, back straight.

That's a good question, though. And not something she's ever been shy about talking about.]

Kind of? When I was in the army, I'd go bar crawling and either find people to fuck or tear the place up and get thrown out. It was... the only thing I could do? When I started getting really confused, between wipes.

[She shrugs.]

Can't do that shit in the fleet, since you're the closest I have to a division now, but I can still tear shit up at waystations. Now that Dr. Crusher fixed my back.

[Monty's own movements are graceful long strides, keeping up with her easily.]

I beg your pardon, you went seeking partners for intimacy in such establishments?

[He assumes that's what she means by 'fuck.' That's a little horrifying. He should probably ask about the 'wipes,' as well, but those can wait a moment.]

[...what is that phrasing even.]

If you mean sex, yeah.

I... I do hope you've found better alternatives more recently. I don't think I should like to do that here.

Yeah, I've got some good friends in the fleet. Like... since it's a much less formal command structure, it's okay. Before, I didn't have time--no, that's not true.

[She takes a moment to rethink the statement to something closer to the truth as she can explain it.]

I wasn't allowed to have friends while I was in the army. It wasn't against regs or anything, but compliance... It's hard to explain. I couldn't. But anyway, being in the fleet has been really different and... nice?

[The blunt honesty - Is this honest? - of this woman is incredibly disconcerting. Monty has no idea what to make of it. People aren't supposed to just tell you these things. Isn't she worried about revealing some weakness to a potential enemy? Even if they never come to blows, Monty could use this information against her in some other way. It could be a clever ruse, depending on how good an actor she is, he supposes.

His expression is polite and attentive, regardless of his inner confusion and second-guessing of her motives. And his tone is wholly sympathetic when he speaks. Monty, at least, is a decent actor when he needs to be.]

An army where you can't be friends with any of your comrades seems a poor one, indeed. My apologies if it's rude to say, but morale must have suffered for that policy. I have not been to war myself, but it's in our darkest hours that friends may be a light to guide us.

[She shrugs.] I took care of my people as good as I could.

It gets really confusing because I don't remember most of it. Even my friends going away. I just know they did, because then they weren't there any more.

You... don't remember it?

[That has his brow furrowing in honest confusion.]

Has your memory been altered?

Yeah. That's what Compliance does. They take away non-compliant behaviors, and memories and... everything. I forgot a lot of things. I still forget things sometimes.

[They arrive at the bar and she shoves the door open. It's exceptionally seedy inside.]

[Monty's inclined to ask more and suss out how much of this is now just to play to his sympathies when they enter the bar. Immediately, he regrets being here. The men and women inhabiting it are entirely sinister-looking and brutish. His gaze flits from one to another, trying not to actually make eye-contact. Monty clears his throat quietly.]

Shall we find an open table, then? I can order us drinks at the bar, if you'd like.

[There are some snorts of either amusement or disbelief from those within earshot. Monty tries to ignore them, turning his full attention on Wrath.

He doesn't want to be here. He doesn't want to be here. He does not want to be here, dear God!]

Edited 2016-10-19 04:53 (UTC)

[Wrath looks around. This is definitely the kind of place she wanted to find.]

Nah. We're not gonna be here long.

[She makes a hand gesture at Monty unthinkingly, a standard combat thing: watch the door.

Then she fixes her attention on the biggest, nastiest looking person in the joint--gender doesn't really matter, in this case.]

Hi! I heard you like abducting and selling people. Is that true?

[There's a moment of stunned silence, and then the person starts laughing.]

[What is she doing? Why is she doing it? She's actually going to get them into a fight.]

Ah! Do forgive her! [Monty steps up, trying to put himself between the person - a heavily scarred woman - and Wrath. At least he thinks she's a woman.] She's just terribly curious. We probably ought to be going. Isn't that right, Lieutenant?

[The woman snorts.]

Don't much like military. Don't see much of that out in these parts.

[Her hand snaps out and she grabs Monty's tie, yanking him down. The woman's eyes are on Wrath, though, all but ignoring the gentleman.]

I don't like what I do, but it makes a living. This one yours, or are you looking to sell him, yourself?

[Wow, Monty, you're supposed to be helping by watching the door. But okay, she'll roll with this. He must be playing distraction. Or maybe once she gets things going, he's going to pull out some cool-as-hell moves. She'll believe it.]

That's okay if you don't like military. I don't like motherfuckers who survive off of spreading misery.

[Wrath smiles brightly--and then launches herself into motion. There's a flash from her combat knife that neatly severs Monty's tie--dumb thing to be wearing in a fight--and then she lunges up and up at the much larger woman.

And headbutts her.]

[He's supposed to be helping by getting them out of here unscathed. That doesn't seem likely, though, because as his tie is cut and he stumbles backward, the woman Wrath has engaged goes tumbling, thoroughly poleaxed by the headbutt to her jaw.

There's only the sound of the giant tumbling, then silence for several long seconds. Monty's eyes widen. He tries to grab for Wrath's hand.]

John told us to do it! Take it up with him! [There must be some person named John in this seedy underworld that people can turn their ire on. Monty's guessing there, but it's a common enough name.

As he tries to jerk Wrath back toward the exit, though, all hell breaks loose. A man overturns a table in front of them, smashes a bottle against the wall, and points the jagged pieces of what's left in their direction.]

Johnny Boy can go fuck himself! No one messes with Killin' Kate's gang!

[He lunges and Monty's forced to break away from Wrath as he dodges to the side, directly into another man. Instead of punching him into the ground, the man just steadies him.]

Me and my boys owe Big John a level for him shaking those raiders off our tails. You got us, lad.

[There isn't much room to be grateful or even process the fact that apparently he's just started a miniature faction war. Soon enough most of the bar is engaged in attacking each other, calling out for their leader - Johnny Boy or Killin' Kate.]

Edited 2016-10-26 19:49 (UTC)

[Good luck trying to move Wrath when she doesn't want to be moved, Monty. She's shockingly heavy. Comes with having composite bones. She shoots Monty a look like, what the fuck, mate and then -- oh, Monty is brilliant! Get everyone fighting and then they can just pick them all off one by one in the confusion. That could be fun too.

She flashes Monty a thumbs up. And then jumps on the nearest tough and takes them down in a move that's a little too fast to make much sense.

She pops back up in the crowd a moment later and gives Monty another thumbs up.]

[No. No, this is not a situation that warrants a positive response. This is a situation that warrants them getting out of here in the confusion and melee. Monty has to duck down to avoid a swing from a woman, his hands going up.]

I'm sorry! I'm terribly sorry.

[She snarls a swings again, then lunges for him.]

I'll make you sorry!

[Monty dodges away toward the ground, only to find himself kicked squarely in the side by someone else who promptly trips over him. This starts something of a chain reaction of people falling over one another before he can crawl away and scrabble to standing once more. This is not his idea of a good time, and he looks around for Wrath, hoping to make her leave.

He earns himself a painful clip to the jaw as he dodges and weaves around combatants. Not really intending it, he seems to be leaving a rather long trail of injured people behind him by virtue of the fact that he's rather slippery and close proximity means people are hitting each other when they don't land a punch or kick on him.]

Lieutenant! Lietenant Wrath, we need to get out of here!

[Hey, no one gets to punch her backup! He seems like a delicate guy. In a flash, Wrath's over by where Monty is, punching and kicking ferociously and clearing him a bit of breathing room. She's grinning ear to ear through it all.]

Why? We're winning!

[Monty, by contrast, is wide-eyed and panicking. He wracks his brains for an excuse that isn't 'because you're insane and I don't want to be here!']

Because I- Renart! Renart called me. She needs my help back on our ship. I have to get back to her. Please. It's important!

[Wrath doesn't particularly like Renart, but it doesn't occur to her that her personal feelings should matter. Her battle buddy has been called away, so she needs to facilitate that.]

Okay!

[And like a small, pink battering ram, she makes sure the way to the door is clear for him. Though she shows no interest in following.]

You gonna be okay--

[She kicks someone who gets too close in the face.]

--from here?

[Should he leave her? The gentleman in him says no.]

I think I'd feel better if you came along out of there, Lieutenant. You haven't got back-up.

Aw, that's really sweet.

[Someone gets punched.]

These guys are like kindergarten, though. I'll be fine. You don't want to keep Renart waiting!

[You're making this difficult for him, Wrath.]

It would be unconscionable to leave an ally behind in the thick of battle, Lieutenant. Even with something so simple, we did go in together.

[Why you gotta make things so complicated, Monty.]

Okay. Um. Gimme a minute. Watch the door.

[Fine, he needs to go and he won't leave without her. And she's not going to leave a fight undone. Which means the gloves are coming off. She dives back into the fray and starts incapacitating people. Broken bones tend to slow anyone down.]

[That hadn't been an invitation to leap into the fray and start pummeling everything in sight again, Wrath. Monty has to duck when there's a bottle thrown his way, but soon enough just about everyone save the bartender appears to be down from the fighting. Dear god is this a mess.]

Ah... you can send the bill for damages to the Atroma, sir.

[Monty has absolutely no idea if the Atroma can be sent bills, but the baleful look the man behind the bar says probably not.]

L-Lieutenant. We really ought to be going.

Edited 2016-11-16 15:50 (UTC)

[Wrath dusts her hands off. She's feeling quite satisfied with a job well done.]

Okay! Let's get you back to your ship.

[Personal obliviousness field: on HIGH.

She heads toward where the shuttles are docked.]

Good game, Monty. That was fun.

Why'd You Kill the Merchant?!

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