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May 2023 It's been hectic this last year, but we are alive and celebrating our fifth year of adventure and tales. A lot has been worked on to help make the Monoverse one that everyone can enjoy and explore their story while becoming a part of the greater cosmos. All of you, new and long time players, stay safe, and see you in the Sea of Stars!
Post by Lemon Jankins on Sept 20, 2023 16:00:21 GMT
It had been a month, a month of running, a month of hiding, unsure if there were actual pursuers. The lump of baggy clothing sat at the bottom of one of the massive trees present in one of the many parks of Daiban, guitar in hands. She had gathered a small crowd of listeners, their beady little eyes staring while they nibbled on the nuts she scattered before her. She sang of green fields, the mental projections washing over the uncomprehending animals, she had to assume that they at least liked the music and food. Being off the grid had its perks, but she would soon have to return to civilization so to speak, her cash was running low.
Glancing up at the skyscrapers rimming the park, she had to admit that it was a beautiful day, cloudy, a light rain, with warm sunlight shining through. Most people didn't like the rain, so she had the luxury of the petrichor and fresh air mostly to herself. She missed the smell of citrus trees and buzz of pollinators, but the life around her was still a welcome break from towering artifice. Pulling her hood farther down to keep the rain out of her face she started started playing another ancient song through her headset, broadcasting it she watched the small racoon like scavengers react to the strange new sounds coming from inside their heads. She sang along where she could, a lot of the words escaped her, her head filled with half-remembered snippets of an old movie she heard the song from.
Glancing down, she turned her commlink on by reinserting the battery, might as well see what she missed during her time away from everything.
Post by Tycho Kalhalati on Sept 20, 2023 17:38:14 GMT
There would be an audio-only message from Tycho in her personal message directory, dated to a little under a month ago, likely just a few days after last seeing each other in the Reach.
// "Hey. Hope this gets to you." //
A small pause, and the slight bleed-through of ambient Urban noise in the background. The whine of aerodynes overhead, and such.
// "I never got to thank you for Auriga. I don't think things would've gone the same way if you weren't there. Hoping we can work together again someday." //
The garbled speech of someone passing by, boisterous and guttural.
// "I don't want to assume what's going on in your head, it's not my place to... but I'd imagine it must feel very isolating, socially-speaking. I may not be able to empathize with all of it, but if you just need someone to talk to, you have my handle. I'll hit up your feed if anything comes up about our mutual source of grievance, back in the Frontier." //
A frown creased her forehead, people weren't supposed to give a shit. Sure, spouting company lines or platitudes in person was the social norm. She'd need to respond sooner rather than later. She started typing.
//Got your message, I've been off grid making sure spooks didn't grab me. I'll be looking for more work, wouldn't be opposed to a familiar face if you need another. Need to get me a ride of my own, soon, this rock is starting to feel like a gilded cage. Lots of jobs, but lots of places for spooks.//
She looked at the gathered critters, contentedly nibbling on the scattered food, she'd stopped messaging them when her focus turned to her commlink but nothing had startled them yet. A bit more practice was in order, offensive, bounty targets were great for testing psychological warfare on; one day she hoped to get some dues back from the Frontier, that mutual grievance.
He was either a really good spook, or someone to keep on the contacts list, and she had a feeling it was the latter. Spooks were good, but the ones who were that good probably weren't after her. Giving a shit was hard to fake.
The racoon-oids gave off a general vibe of "OH SHIT" when she suddenly stood up and they scattered. She needed to go get her shit from the nearby stash, hopefully the stray dogs she'd bribed into guarding it did their job.
Post by Tycho Kalhalati on Oct 2, 2023 18:09:26 GMT
For the time gap, a reply came ironically quite quickly; text, this time. 4 messages back-to-back, seemingly a lot more conversational. The tonal difference between a text and an E-mail.
// Hey. Good to hear from you. //
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// Job market's pretty broad for alphas, as I understand it-- would love to run some with you, totally. Work's been good, but running solo's just not the same. Miss having chooms. //
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// Recently got my own transportation situation sorted, would be happy to at least play taxi driver whether we take the same jobs or not. Least I can do. //
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// Just let me know, I'm probably around. Haven't been straying too far from Daiban recently, save for work. //
