03-29-2018, 09:28 PM
Meanwhile...
Drake kicked around at a few of the corpses in the grand foyer of Gilgamesh's palace. Now that he was on his own since first becoming a Prime, he was suddenly feeling very tired. Shadows within the hall stretched long on the suede carpet, and the orange light was punctuated by the glimmering cherry of the smuggler's cigarette. He breathed out a long puff of acrid smoke as he scrolled through his datavice. He'd been asking SW3 to keep tabs on the Nippur situation, but data had slowed down now that it was growing into the evening. Obviously, the populace was excited to have their King back, but the streets of the city were still a dangerous place at night.
Drake glanced down at a corpse near his feet. He found it odd that it should be so skeletal and dusty after just two years of decay, but then again, it wasn't like he was a fucking coroner. A glint on the corpse revealed some sort of municipal badge of office. It had Nippur's lion seal, in gold of course, with glimmering red glass eyes. The businessman pinned it onto his jacket as he pulled it back over his shoulders. The desert got cold at night, after all. Drake stamped out the remainder of the cig and began to trudge towards the palace gateway, placing a call on his datavice as he did so.
After more than a few rings, Monika picked up.
"What the fuck Drake, it's like, two AM in Coruscant." she murmured. Drake smiled in spite of himself. The red-head was all proper and nice when she was in the club, but in more candid situations, she had a real anger inside of her. He liked it. Still, he wouldn't ask anything of her at this hour; nothing was that urgent at the moment. Besides, it was the nature of Primes to reveal themselves in big ways. He'd find the occupiers sooner or later.
"Sorry fam. Lost track of time. Sleep tight." he said softly before ending the call with the brush of his thumb. Looked like he was officially on his own for the evening. Alright. So. Gilgamesh wanted him to clean up the streets and kill bandits. This was problematic for Drake, because he didn't even know what counted as a 'Bandit' in Nippur. Street thugs? Blood crazed psychopaths? Cutpurses? Frankly, the smuggler didn't feel like blowing off the heads of some desperate street sharks. Times were rough, which made people do shitty things to survive.
Well, he just guessed he would have to see.
Drake wandered around the city, visiting the empty bazaar and strolling down the back alleys. He listened to the baying evening prayers of the town crier and the soft clicking of shutters as he walked past. The night fires were lit here and there; not nearly as many as needed, and it wasn't until a muddy-smelling twilight fell over the city that he encountered his first trouble. Some girl screaming from down the street, a little hooting and hollering. Sounded good enough. Cybernetic legs whirred and hissed as they casually carried the dextrous smuggler down the alley at breakneck speed. Drake skidded to a halt at the mouth of the alleyway to see two, frankly, young looking boys smacking and tearing at the clothes of an equally young girl. They seemed to preoccupied with their abuse to notice the lanky Prime, so Drake pulled out his pistol and fired two lazy shots in their general direction. The booming KCRAK KCRACK sent the hoodlums scattering down the opposite ends, and a pair of fizzling orange patches began to smoulder into blackness on the side of what was once a house.
Drake advanced on the sobbing girl and stared down at her with cold, stormy eyes. He gave her a minute to regain her composure before making sure that she saw the plasma gun also pointed at her face. The terror in her gaze was legitimate, and she was frozen in place.
"Am I 'bout to get jumped, bait-girl?" Drake hissed, glaring down at the child with unblinking ferocity. She could barely manage to shake her head.
"I mean for real though?!" Drake snapped, brandishing the gun slightly further towards her. The girl frantically shook her head, sending her black hair whipping in every direction before she completely broke. It wasn't until her sobbing became utterly tortured that Drake was convinced she wasn't part of some ambush tactic. The smuggler quietly tucked away his pistol and leaned against the wall.
"Yo, where you live?" he said in a flat tone.
"Away...uh...down...not far, uh..." she whimpered, while gesturing in the general direction Drake had just been coming from. He nodded.
"I'll take you there."
The girl simply nodded and stood, shakily, to her feet. The smuggler let her pass by him, still keeping an eye on the windows and rooftops as they walked in the silence of dusk. They got about a block before Drake spoke up.
"Who was that?" he said softly. It was still sharp enough to cause the girl to jump. Drake had no pity: he couldn't think of a damn reason for a girl that was...what...twelve to be running around after dark. Something smelled off about this.
"M...my brother, and...another I do not know." she mumbled.
"Your brother-wha? Deadass?" Drake said, trying to sound genuine. Didn't work.
"Y-yes. He said he would walk me to Nana's house tonight, because she had made a dinner for us, but...the other came...they started hitting and pulling. I...do not know why." the girl said, speaking through a sorrowful grimace the entire time. The smuggler's shark-like sensibilities immediately started laying out scenarios as for motives, plans, and goals of her story. Frankly, it sounded like a gang hazing. As they arrived at the girl's house, Drake let her stumble into the arms of her mother before asking one final question, this time, to the woman.
"You know where your son at?" Drake asked, his voice dusky and firm. It took the mother a moment to find the courage to respond.
"Are you going to hurt him?" she asked in a thick mesopotamian accent. The skinny Prime shrugged.
"Maybe. Depends on the kid."
Mom was trying to hold it together here, but Drake could tell there was a lot of context that was being left out. Okay. Let's try to win her over.
"I ain't gonna kill him. Seems like he runnin' wit da wrong crowd. I work for the King. I can do somethin' bout it." he said, flicking the badge on his coat. The mother swallowed hard.
"M-maybe...he and the other boys have all started talking about a man named Vito. That's all I know. Vito. I..." the mother stuttered as the daughter tried to pull her into the warm safety of the stucco hovel, "...I must go now. Thank you. Um..."
The sentence was left hanging there as the door clicked shut and several locks slid into place. Drake paused for a moment and nodded to himself.
Vito.
Yeah. Vito sounded like a bandit.
Drake walked off into the deepening shadows to go kill Vito.
Drake kicked around at a few of the corpses in the grand foyer of Gilgamesh's palace. Now that he was on his own since first becoming a Prime, he was suddenly feeling very tired. Shadows within the hall stretched long on the suede carpet, and the orange light was punctuated by the glimmering cherry of the smuggler's cigarette. He breathed out a long puff of acrid smoke as he scrolled through his datavice. He'd been asking SW3 to keep tabs on the Nippur situation, but data had slowed down now that it was growing into the evening. Obviously, the populace was excited to have their King back, but the streets of the city were still a dangerous place at night.
Drake glanced down at a corpse near his feet. He found it odd that it should be so skeletal and dusty after just two years of decay, but then again, it wasn't like he was a fucking coroner. A glint on the corpse revealed some sort of municipal badge of office. It had Nippur's lion seal, in gold of course, with glimmering red glass eyes. The businessman pinned it onto his jacket as he pulled it back over his shoulders. The desert got cold at night, after all. Drake stamped out the remainder of the cig and began to trudge towards the palace gateway, placing a call on his datavice as he did so.
After more than a few rings, Monika picked up.
"What the fuck Drake, it's like, two AM in Coruscant." she murmured. Drake smiled in spite of himself. The red-head was all proper and nice when she was in the club, but in more candid situations, she had a real anger inside of her. He liked it. Still, he wouldn't ask anything of her at this hour; nothing was that urgent at the moment. Besides, it was the nature of Primes to reveal themselves in big ways. He'd find the occupiers sooner or later.
"Sorry fam. Lost track of time. Sleep tight." he said softly before ending the call with the brush of his thumb. Looked like he was officially on his own for the evening. Alright. So. Gilgamesh wanted him to clean up the streets and kill bandits. This was problematic for Drake, because he didn't even know what counted as a 'Bandit' in Nippur. Street thugs? Blood crazed psychopaths? Cutpurses? Frankly, the smuggler didn't feel like blowing off the heads of some desperate street sharks. Times were rough, which made people do shitty things to survive.
Well, he just guessed he would have to see.
Drake wandered around the city, visiting the empty bazaar and strolling down the back alleys. He listened to the baying evening prayers of the town crier and the soft clicking of shutters as he walked past. The night fires were lit here and there; not nearly as many as needed, and it wasn't until a muddy-smelling twilight fell over the city that he encountered his first trouble. Some girl screaming from down the street, a little hooting and hollering. Sounded good enough. Cybernetic legs whirred and hissed as they casually carried the dextrous smuggler down the alley at breakneck speed. Drake skidded to a halt at the mouth of the alleyway to see two, frankly, young looking boys smacking and tearing at the clothes of an equally young girl. They seemed to preoccupied with their abuse to notice the lanky Prime, so Drake pulled out his pistol and fired two lazy shots in their general direction. The booming KCRAK KCRACK sent the hoodlums scattering down the opposite ends, and a pair of fizzling orange patches began to smoulder into blackness on the side of what was once a house.
Drake advanced on the sobbing girl and stared down at her with cold, stormy eyes. He gave her a minute to regain her composure before making sure that she saw the plasma gun also pointed at her face. The terror in her gaze was legitimate, and she was frozen in place.
"Am I 'bout to get jumped, bait-girl?" Drake hissed, glaring down at the child with unblinking ferocity. She could barely manage to shake her head.
"I mean for real though?!" Drake snapped, brandishing the gun slightly further towards her. The girl frantically shook her head, sending her black hair whipping in every direction before she completely broke. It wasn't until her sobbing became utterly tortured that Drake was convinced she wasn't part of some ambush tactic. The smuggler quietly tucked away his pistol and leaned against the wall.
"Yo, where you live?" he said in a flat tone.
"Away...uh...down...not far, uh..." she whimpered, while gesturing in the general direction Drake had just been coming from. He nodded.
"I'll take you there."
The girl simply nodded and stood, shakily, to her feet. The smuggler let her pass by him, still keeping an eye on the windows and rooftops as they walked in the silence of dusk. They got about a block before Drake spoke up.
"Who was that?" he said softly. It was still sharp enough to cause the girl to jump. Drake had no pity: he couldn't think of a damn reason for a girl that was...what...twelve to be running around after dark. Something smelled off about this.
"M...my brother, and...another I do not know." she mumbled.
"Your brother-wha? Deadass?" Drake said, trying to sound genuine. Didn't work.
"Y-yes. He said he would walk me to Nana's house tonight, because she had made a dinner for us, but...the other came...they started hitting and pulling. I...do not know why." the girl said, speaking through a sorrowful grimace the entire time. The smuggler's shark-like sensibilities immediately started laying out scenarios as for motives, plans, and goals of her story. Frankly, it sounded like a gang hazing. As they arrived at the girl's house, Drake let her stumble into the arms of her mother before asking one final question, this time, to the woman.
"You know where your son at?" Drake asked, his voice dusky and firm. It took the mother a moment to find the courage to respond.
"Are you going to hurt him?" she asked in a thick mesopotamian accent. The skinny Prime shrugged.
"Maybe. Depends on the kid."
Mom was trying to hold it together here, but Drake could tell there was a lot of context that was being left out. Okay. Let's try to win her over.
"I ain't gonna kill him. Seems like he runnin' wit da wrong crowd. I work for the King. I can do somethin' bout it." he said, flicking the badge on his coat. The mother swallowed hard.
"M-maybe...he and the other boys have all started talking about a man named Vito. That's all I know. Vito. I..." the mother stuttered as the daughter tried to pull her into the warm safety of the stucco hovel, "...I must go now. Thank you. Um..."
The sentence was left hanging there as the door clicked shut and several locks slid into place. Drake paused for a moment and nodded to himself.
Vito.
Yeah. Vito sounded like a bandit.
Drake walked off into the deepening shadows to go kill Vito.
![[Image: screen_shot_2018_02_16_at_4_33_57_pm_by_...c3dkog.png]](https://orig00.deviantart.net/883e/f/2018/047/1/d/screen_shot_2018_02_16_at_4_33_57_pm_by_tearen_and_zearen-dc3dkog.png)