MISSION: BAD COMPANY, PART 1

[ximilian]

● ● ● M I S S I O N   4 . 1

INTRO • SETTLIN' DUST • BADROCK N' ROLL • DIRTY JOBS • FYI

// INTRO. beam us down!  

This time it’s barely past noon when the familiar ping of a message alerts you that a new mission file is finally available: it’ll read Scorpion’s Bend, and the file’s arrival is immediately accompanied by Viveca’s voice.

// VIVECA.AI

Sorry that it took us this long to get the teleportation machine charged again ... though I think most of you liked the reprieve. You have two days until the next mission. Read the file carefully.

To help you blend in, I’ve prepared bundles of clothes for each of you, rations for those with special diets, and enough of the local currency to buy you a few nights in town. After that, you’ll have to provide for yourselves. I’ve also divided you into groups, and each group will arrive at the town at a different time… so those in the first group, prepare to live in the town for a month or so, while waiting for the rest of the team to arrive. Make up a good story, and don’t blow your cover.

The instructions are clear: after you’ve familiarised yourself with the file and its contents, you find that, indeed, there are neatly laid bundles marked with a name in the common room providing appropriate clothing to help you blend in better… and is somehow tailored to fit you perfectly.

Unlike previous missions, there will be plenty of time to talk to those in the same group as you, to come up with plans and stories that’ll explain your arrival in town. And as the two days pass, you all gather to the center of the station again, some for the fourth time, some for the first — it is not only Viveca, in her robot body, who is there to see you off, but Degar as well. He tips an invisible hat in your direction.

// DEGAR

Howdy partners! Just wanted to pop in real quick to wish you all luck down there. Looks like you’ve got all the things you’ll need, that’s good. We’ve got things under control here, so we’ll see you when we see you.

Having probably seen far too many bad spaghetti Westerns, Degar sends fingerguns in the team’s general direction before blowing a breath off the tops of his fingers and re-holstering said fingerguns into equally invisible holsters at his sides. It’s really all extremely cheesy, and he knows it – made obvious from the slight grin on his face.

// DEGAR

Good luck, team. You’ll be great.

The platform hums to life as Viveca, too, smiles at the gathered team — even if there’s some tightness to it.

// VIVECA.AI

The orb’s somewhere in the town, that I’m sure of. But where, and whether it’s already done something… that I don’t know. I just know that when I was trying to access the information to get you the file, something wasn’t quite right. So be on your guard. I hope to see all of you back safely.

The increasing noise of the teleportation machine nearly drowns out her words as the light around you grows brighter, brighter —

Until it’s all you can see, and the familiar tug drags you away into nothingness. There, the echoing voices speak to you once more, laying out the goal you have to complete… and then, without a chance to respond, you are wrenched away through time and space.

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// PART I.SETTLIN' DUST  

As soon as the light dissipates and the voices die away, you are left floundering in the darkness — seconds, at most, as each of you is sent to a set time on the planet. But how you arrive will depend entirely on when you arrive.

1.0A: GROUP 1   Awareness returns to you as you find yourself on your feet, suddenly standing in the Mayor’s office with a half circle of twenty other Orbers just as mildly disoriented as you are. Madam Reilly is positioned in the centre, her fierce eyes shining with approval as she looks up to meet your eyes.

“We thought a curse had befallen us when no new wagons came for such a long time ... but it’s damned near possible we were bein’ a little hasty. Thank the Gods, they haven’t forsaken our little town. By the mercy of the Eight, you’ve made it here, and our town is much in need of new blood.”

She rounds her desk, studying every new arrival with care.

“Obey the law, find work, and you’ll find Scorpion’s Bend’ll take care of you … just so long as you take care of it. Crow’s Tooth Saloon and Thornbush Inn will offer you rooms, at least temporarily. But of course, should you wish to stay … there are properties to purchase. For now as a show of welcome: here, for each of you, a voucher for a free meal in the saloon. Consider it our hospitality.”

She sounds sincere enough, but the glint in her eye betrays her, telling you that she’ll likely expect that the hospitality be repaid through hard work and the wealth it will bring the town.

So take the voucher, thank the Mayor for her audience with you, and leave to do a little exploration; and as you do, many of the locals will wave at you, though some might eye you with suspicion. As Madam Reilly said — it’s been a while since any previous wagons made it to town. New arrivals are … well. They’re something of a novelty.

1.0B: GROUP 2   The first thing you register when you regain your wits about you is that the wagon you’re sitting inside of suddenly stops, making you jolt. Above you, the steady sound of rain hitting the wagon’s fabric cover with increasing intensity fills your ears.

Without preamble, a youthful voice from outside shouts:

“Come on out, newcomers!”

With nothing to do but brave the rain and leave the confines of the wagons, you follow your fellow Orbers out on shaky legs. Once outside, blinking away the rain in your eyes, you see riderless horses pulling the wagons, parts of their heads replaced with metal.

It won’t take long before you realize you are in the middle of the town road, and in front of the wagons stand two people: a large man with an eye-patch, and a smaller, young alien with sparkling eyes.

“The last time wasn’t a fluke! We’re really getting regular wagons coming in again. Oh, everything's finally in apple pie order!”

Deputy Duke speaks with a bright grin — one that the Sheriff doesn’t share.

“Yeah, sure seems that way. And they’re bringing in rain, which ain’t been seen for a while either. Sure getting all the luck today, aren’t we?” He huffs, wiping at his nose. “Well — guess we gotta tighten the security ‘round here, who knows what other strange folk we’ll be taking in.”

His one eye scans over the Orbers who are slowly getting soaked in the downpour, and snorts.

“Well, ain't you some odd sticks? Listen here, lads and lassies — the name’s One-Eyed Wilson, and I’m the law in this town, y'hear? So don’t stray from the right path, and we're gonna get along just fine. But if you find that you do, well, then I'll be nailin' you to the counter and see that the rats in the cells are the only ones keepin' you company.”

“Yeah! What he said! I’m Deputy Levi Duke, an’ I’ll be watching you! Real careful-like!”

Somehow, his cheerful disposition makes the threat not really sound like much of a one.

Still, they both watch you carefully as you walk past them. Where you go next within the town depends entirely on you, but the signs pointing to the Saloon and Inn are clearly visible, and you’ll likely want to get out of the rain. And who knows, there might even be a few familiar faces already here to greet you.

1.0C: GROUP 3   You wake up with your face buried in something rough and dirty, paired with the sensation of someone shaking at your shoulders. As you blink your eyes open, someone’s face is too close to yours, a face you’ve never seen before in your life, and they’re dressed in rough-hewn work clothing. They take a step back, crouched on their haunches, but the relief in their eyes is palpable. With a sigh, they shake their head and then yell:

“Crimany! This one’s awake, boss!”

As you get up, you’ll see others dressed similarly, all miners, rousing familiar teammates around you. Scattered in your immediate surroundings are the remains of several wagons, a piece of a roof cover flapping uselessly against a large rock. When all of you have woken — some hale and hearty, some with scabs and bruises, some with bleeding cuts — one of the older miners approaches you, his gaze taking in all your faces.

“Don’t suppose you saw what hit y’all?” He doesn’t wait for an answer before he continues. “Must’ve been one of them sandwhales. The Mayor's been suspecting it might’ve been them, why no wagons came for such a long time here. Well, you survived, so that’s more than the others got. Welcome to Scorpion’s Bend. I’m Reginald Dooley, but everyone in town calls me Rex. Head of the Miner’s Guild, that’s me. My boys and I will see that you make it safely back into town.”

“Yeah we will, especially since it’s less than a hundred feet!”

One of Rex’s miners shouts and the others laugh, hastily helping the rest of you up on your feet to escort you along the road that leads into town.

Perhaps you’ll let yourself be helped, or you’ll rush to help those who have been wounded in an attack you can’t remember … or perhaps you’ve already left the others behind to go into town, to see what it has to offer and to meet those who have come here before you.

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// PART II.BADROCK N' ROLL  

With all the introductions said and done, it’s time to take to the small town of Scorpion’s Bend and scope out opportunities for the remainder of your stay. For those of you from more temperate, wetter climates, you might find that desert life takes a little bit of getting used to. Two suns beaming bright white rise high over the cloudless horizon, soaking the land with hot light throughout the daytime. With the dust and debris and very little lush vegetation, it’ll be easy to find yourself quickly heating up, where the only form of shade in this town is found within the establishments themselves and under awnings. The evenings do bring beautiful sunsets, however, with a spectacular sight of the five small moons of Badrock glowing like dim spheres of varying sizes across the dark, night sky. There are very few stars out and the temperatures drop dramatically when the suns are down.

2.0   A Bed Too Large: In front of Crow’s Tooth Saloon and the nearby Thornbush Inn, you’ll find seating as though these buildings can read your mind and understand the need for quick refuge from the scorching temperatures. This is where you’ll be able to find yourselves beds to sleep on tonight.

Crow’s Tooth Saloon is an especially lively hub throughout the day. Mornings will see a cluster of miners grabbing breakfast before their trek out to Guncross Mountain — small breakfasts of eggs and sausage and the blackest coffee; noon will find the desk-job men and stablehands congregating for lunch and a drink — sandwiches, biscuits and meat pies with alcohol; and by mid-afternoon leading into the late night hours, fathers and sons and daughters and miners will have returned for dinner and a chance to let loose before the day’s events repeat again the next day. The occasional lone rider might be found at a table some nights before heading to the next town over. A couple of miners, both younger and old, keep to themselves, sitting alone with their whiskey at the bar. The pianist, Tommy Jellison, makes his wages by playing the evening into the wee hours of the night for tips, spinning jubilant tunes on the keys with his five hands, and belting out the odd vocal accompaniment. Sometimes there will be games of cards and coins, and opiates and stimulants aren’t uncommon: both to obtain and to use. The owner, Emzi Hanegan, turns a blind eye to most of the latter.

But Thornbush Inn won’t be void of life either. A three-story rectangular building with painted black and white exterior wood walls, Thornbush Inn can easily be found not far from behind the Saloon. This is where travelers, not all that frequent lately, will come to stay during their time in Scorpion’s Bend. The Innkeeper, Terrance Trawley, has been doing this for a very, very long time, and boy the stories he could share, once coaxed, would paint a colourful picture of the town’s history. Rumour has it he’s been known to embellish a few details every now and then, though. "Adds flavour," he says. You’ll be welcome to keep a room while you’re here, but he'll encourage you to keep a roommate if you do — space is limited and so are the coins in your purse, but would you be needing the turndown service at all?

3.0   For a Fistful of Dollars: Turns out the money you’ve received to spend in this town goes out sooner than you’d like. This means making quick work of integrating yourself into the workforce by offering your services and using those airtight backstories to find a position best suited for you and your fellow townsfolk. For those of you who are good with people, you may want to speak with the owner, Priory Halhast, of Scorpion’s Bend General Store; she’s always looking for bright, gorgeous faces to greet customers daily, take their orders (simple and practical items such as hygiene products, toiletries, cleaning products, basic cooking ingredients and the like), engage in a little small-talk, and to offer the occasional home delivery service. If you’d rather keep to yourself, ask her about working as a stockist or helping to keep some of the books in the back in order.

Similar positions can be found at the Trading Post, where all it takes is a quick chat with Lawturn, the gruff, bearded stocky owner in the poncho and black stetson. Dealing with imports and exports between other towns, they’ll be expecting strong hands and quick minds to handle some of the sales and incoming stock for the town. Sometimes this includes spare wagon parts and food and supplies for the animals.

And speaking of animals, for those of you who have a sixth sense with them, or simply want to avoid the chatty townsfolk all together, the Stablemaster, known simply as ‘Horseshoe’ could always use an extra set of hands to help with the grooming, feeding, cleaning, and maintenance of the horses and other animals, as well as the travel wagons. The Stables can be found near the Trading Post; it’s just a quick-ish jog (if you can stand the heat) to the large wooden barn in faded red wood where you’ll be greeted by the sounds of dogs, cows, chickens, sheep, owl-shrews, varkdogs, and flower mantisaurs.

4.0   The Good, the Religious and the Spicy: Over the month, some of you might find that even in a place as small as Scorpion’s Bend, there is disparity between the cleaner, ‘nicer’ parts of town versus the more dilapidated and seedier areas. The town’s segregation isn’t quite as clear-cut with the main street and its numerous businesses acting as a central hub for all of the townspeople. However, the schoolhouse and the church, Celestial Mercy, stands proud on one end, while Sindown, the town’s infamous pleasure house marks its place on the opposite side and are often referred to as the ‘Light’ and the ‘Dark’ sides of town respectively, and not always with a smile.

The schoolhouse is directly connected to the church, and the children in Scorpion’s Bend spend most of their days at their desks learning to read, basic arithmetic, history, science, and the planets. While not exactly off-limits to the Orbers, in order to keep disruptions of the childrens’ education to a minimum, the headmistress, Joella Friegrass would prefer scheduling appointments to speak with her or any of the other staff in school.

Some of these students will go on to become teachers at the school, indoctrinated into the Sect of the Eight Divines, or otherwise find positions throughout the town. While not closed to other practices of worship, Father Alois of the Celestial Mercy mainly preaches the gospel of the Eight Divines and would happily spend time explaining this religion with you. The church itself is a brown wood building with a peaked roof and long, arched windows lining the sides. Above the doors is a small bell tower, used to mark celebrations, funerals, the beginning and end of a sermon, and other special occasions.

If you decide to make a thorough exploration of the length of the town, you’ll inevitably wander over to Sindown, the Bend’s pleasure house. Sindown is owned by Madame Rella, whose brief appearances at her own establishment only ever seem to happen during the latest hours of the night, and only for long enough to check in on her clients and workers, and to ensure the peace. She isn’t a woman to be reckoned with and anyone who winds up on her bad side will find themselves regretting it for the rest of their days. Find someone you might want to have a night of pleasure (or pain) with, book a room within the house (with all of the comforts provided), and be sure to pay upfront. Or simply stick around for the drinking, the drugs, and the nightly card games shared among the townsfolk and vagabonds with higher stakes than those you might find at the Saloon.

5.0   After Hours: When the novelty of the stetsons and ponchos have worn off like the shine of the spurs on your boots, the more observant Orbers might find that the whole town feels just a little off. The incoming stock coming into Scorpion’s Bend never seems to change, and so the food at the Saloon arrives at breakfast, noon, and dinner without a hitch, always exactly the same, and all of it tasting just a little less flavourful the more you start to analyze it. Eggs and sausage and bread, for example, all start to taste like the same thing.

Everyone’s got their routine, including you, and you might start paying attention to those schedules as you continue to work at your job, explore the establishments, and speak with the townspeople — both the regular folks of the day-to-day, and the ones with a little more power and sway in the town. Every now and then, someone’s temper might flare up resulting in a dramatic bar fight amongst the drunk and those who happen to arrive at the wrong place and time; or you might watch as a couple of the Saloon’s patrons challenge each other to a noontime duel. Try not to make an obvious target of yourself as you explore the town, of course, or you might wind up in a bar fight or a duel of your own. Don’t have a gun? It might be time to find one.

6.0   Out of Town: Any hooligans and lawbreakers will find themselves facing Sheriff One-Eyed Wilson and his Deputy before you even have the wherewithal to utter: ‘yee-haw’. The Sheriff might only be working with one usable, clear eye, but he’s always been the fastest shot on this side of Badrock and he protects this town with everything he’s got. Petty crimes and rowdy behaviour will be punished in levels of severity ranging from warnings to fines to nights spent in the town jail.

One night you might wake up to the sound of shouts and gunfire. If you aren’t already awake, or if you never went to bed in the first place, you might be able to make out a group of figures on horseback, hollering and hooting with pandemonious glee as they ride through town, their faces covered by scarves and wide-brimmed hats. These bandits dash for the stores with the intention to loot the town for everything they’ve got before making their way out with their spoils. Remembering that this could be the last of the incoming stock for weeks, you might want to join your fellow Orbers and residents alike to defend the town from the pillaging or face weeks of struggling recovery.

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// PART III.DIRTY JOBS  

A substantial population of Scorpion’s Bend is made up of miners who have snatched up the opportunity for work and a promise of prosperity while in town. Early in the morning, every morning, those who have jobs at the mines wake up before the sun rises, have their breakfast, and head in split directions: some to Guncross mountain, and others, including you, to the mines located right at the edge of the town, for another hard day’s work. Wagons full of workers make the trek every day, digging for the wealth that lies underground: ore and metal and precious stone used in the formation of construction materials, jewelry, and other treasured items. It’s a lucrative enterprise but to maintain some semblance of order, all workers must first be approved by the Miners Guild, not always an easy feat for newcomers. You’ll learn that to be a full member of the Guild and have access to the mines on Guncross, you’ll need at least half a year’s work within the town, but prove yourself and you may have opportunities to gain some experience at least.

7.0   The Ecstasy of Ore: The wagon leaves just as the moons fade for the night and the barest hint of the suns begins to warm up the sky with light. You’ll be packed in with other townsfolk just like you: eager to get to the mines, or maybe still drowsy with sleep, or maybe a combination of both. During the trek there, one of the older miners might be inclined to share a bit of advice with you, give you the basic 101 in mining. “Keep a lookout for the shiny stuff,” he’ll joke. He looks to be in strangely good spirits for someone up so early.

You’re dropped off by the front with your gear and your fellow miners as the sun continues to rise. Soon it’ll be scorching hot but until then, you feel comfortable, maybe even a little chilly. You’ll be working alongside people who look human, and an alien race called tunnel hounds who have a particular talent for this sort of work. If you want to learn quickly, you might want to speak with one of them.

The tunnel is carved deep and bright lanterns lighting the way inside, hung on a long line of rope every six to ten feet (1.8 to 3 meters). As you work your way deeper, these lights become more and more sporadic, however, so it may be a good time to turn on your torchlight and continue with the group. The reflection of your light will inevitably catch on a shiny surface lodged into the tunnel around you and in crevices further in. It’s this metallic ore that you’re meant to be harvesting; this is the 'shiny stuff'. As you get to work, sweat forming along your brow, the rhythmic sound of your pick-axe pinging against stone, you may or may not hear a silent hissing sound in between. One of the tunnel hounds will suddenly reach out to stop you with sharp claws, and then make a silencing motion before gesturing to the flame-coloured serpent coiled near your foot, too close for comfort. This is an embera, a reptile that can infect their victims with a fire-hot venom that burns the blood in your veins until the heat of it kills you if the pain doesn’t first.

“They ain’t native,” one of the tunnel hounds will explain, voice gruff and muffled between his sharp teeth, “been seeing a lot more of them lately, but we’ve got the hang of ‘em. Learned how to keep to ourselves.”

Avoid getting bitten by these creatures that seem to make the tunnels their home; and if you do, there’s still a chance you can seek help if you do it quickly. The effects of the venom are slow (but still painful) and will be at its peak in a few hours.

8.0   The Countdown: Anyone that decides to explore the Scorpion’s Bend past the mines and tries to head to the desert or towards Guncross mountain may find that their long walk forward only leads them back into the other end of the town, strangely like they’ve somehow walked an entire loop. No matter the trek, this trajectory never seems to change. You might try leaving from the east, for example, only to wind up entering directly into the west side of the town.

Of course, you could try and ask around for an explanation to this bizarre occurrence, but even the most sensible of townsfolk will look at you with reactions spanning anywhere from sympathy and pity to amusement and disgust. Most will laugh and think that perhaps you should lay off the whiskey, maybe grab another black coffee. Others will simply think you’ve been out in the sun for too long or you've been chewing gravel. Either way, it might make you think; after all, that lone rider from the other night had left by the next day, hadn’t he? And what about those bandits chased out of town?

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F Y I

• The events in this log take place during the month of January.

• If you have questions about any of the prompts or the mission in general, please direct them HERE.

• To submit a search request speaking to any NPCs mentioned in the log, trying to overhear conversations, or exploring any specific place during any of the prompts, please do so HERE.

• And finally, have a soundtrack for this log! ♪ ♪ ♪

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takeshi kovacs | altered carbon ( group 1 )

[kovach]

BUSINESS — ( kovacs & cabrera detective agency )

---

[ it hadn't taken long for kovacs to put together the plan for his undercover background, aided by his own and his new (worried) partner's funds to find a small but decent enough storefront property to create into a working space. they wouldn't need much, just a sign to address their business and a few pieces of furniture just to arrange a look — a desk and two chairs (or, rather, one chair, since the first only lasted through the first week, coming to a tragic end when kovacs used it to knock out one of the bandits hurdling along the road after having stolen some cash from the register at the general store).

a month in, the routine is familiar at KOVACS & CABRERA DETECTIVE AGENCY, that aforementioned desk now messy with a scattered assortment of papers and a few tin mugs of coffee (along with the occasional nearly empty whiskey bottle), all typically shoved to one corner to make room for either kovacs or marta to steal a seat if the other's taken space on the solitary chair remaining. there are no high-profile cases, just the periodic minor mystery to clear up or ventured-off pet to find, enough to cover the bills while the real work remains in locating the orb, allowing kovacs to freely give attention to those details his envoy intuition is skilled at finding and marta to ask questions without having to do much lying (thus avoiding any unfortunate regurgitating incidents).

if he isn't out there under the scorching heat of the suns, anyone could find kovacs here, door open during most hours of the day, lounging back in the seat, boot propped up at the edge of the desk, already leaving faint marks on the wood from the number of times he's done it in the past month. despite the heat, he's draped in something of poncho, stetson hat propped atop his head, cigarette peeking out from his lips, and the scruff around his mouth and chin a little more grown than it had been when they first left the station. though he might look like he's taking a nap with the way his hat tilts forward over his eyes, he'll be available for a chat, business-related or casual. ]

PLEASURE — ( crow's tooth saloon   OR   sindown )

---

[ if he isn't on the job, it's more than likely that kovacs can be found seeking out to wet his whistle somewhere a little more lively. wherever he goes, he's still carrying that old familiar pink backpack brought over from the station, despite it not being part of the town's more common dress code, making him all the more easy enough to spot depending on which side of town he ends up on.

if he's at crow's tooth saloon, he's probably seeking something a bit more quiet, tucked in one corner of the bar with his drink, smoke in hand, left to an assortment of thoughts, either related to the day's work, to the ongoing mystery of the orb, or to ... some kind of weight that's far more personal. he's not entirely unwelcoming in his sight, especially if it's to a familiar face, but there is a seat available next to him at the bar if anyone wants to approach.

if he's at sindown, all the quiet dissolves away with the more rowdy setting, like the chaos of the pleasure house can be distracting enough to steer him away from darker thoughts. with a keenness for reading people with talented skill, his luck at the card tables are impressively good, possible to even be an aiding voice to someone trying to get a little extra cash. he might even simply be sitting aside with a drink, a little more giddy in his demeanor than often with the tipsiness offering a bit more of an eccentric curve in his typical sarcastic wit, friendlier for company than he would have been at crow's tooth.

whether or not he's drunk, he's more than likely high on these nights, whether aided by the drugs present in the establishment itself or by whatever he has stashed in his own backpack, and at some point of the night, he'll have his fingers slipped into the hand of an unfamiliar woman, the state of her skimpy, revealing dress signaling that she's definitely a lady of the night rather than any actual romantic entanglement. the hope is always that she'll lead him away to one of the private bedrooms upstairs, but — well, unlike with the gambling, luck isn't typically on his side here, interrupted by an approaching friend (on purpose or not) or even by the sudden rush of a fight breaking out amongst the patrons, whether it's over a paid lover or a card game gone wrong. either way, it's more than likely, kovacs will either suddenly end up in the fight, accidentally or with the intention on aiding a fellow orber in trouble (no doubt suggesting he'll more than likely end up sleeping in an empty bed tonight). ]

WILD CARD — ( varied locations )

---

( if anyone would like to do anything in particular that isn't listed above, just go ahead and ask, either through pm or hit me up at hepburns. options above could steer in different directions with the options present or feel free to shift details a bit to bring in your character as you'd prefer. if anyone from groups 1 or 2 want to do backdated things prior to group 3's arrival, i'm down for that as well! i've got a permissions post too, with some of his more typical warnings, along with some information on his envoy abilities. )

day 14 —

[naloxone]

[ the walk from her room in thornbush inn to their little office isn't normally one marta would complain about, but that morning's torrential downpour proves any distance is immediately too far when one isn't properly equipped for such weather. from the way the townsfolk skitter beneath awnings or stay shut within their homes, it's safe to say no one of scorpion's bend is really prepared for the rain — though many seem grateful for the reprieve from badrock's suns anyway.

a cheerful bell signals her arrival in kovacs & cabrera detective agency; it was a remnant of the space's old use, grandfathered in out of a mix of apathy and a desire to make the place seem more furnished than it actually is, but the sound feels especially out of place now amidst the backdrop of rumbling thunder and pattering rain. she stands soaked by the door, clutching a tumbler of hot coffee in one hand and folded up scraps of paper in the other. the former untouched (not for her), and the latter plucked up from the little tin they have outside where locals can drop off minor requests for them without having to go through the rigamarole of coming in for questioning.

she glances over at the desk, not surprised to see kovacs seated at the chair, boots propped up over some scattered paperwork and hat tipped over his face. he looks to be sleeping, but marta can tell from the uneven rise and fall of his chest that that is not the case.

she walks over after shrugging off her jacket, ringing out her hair. the tumbler she sets by his feet, the papers she drops onto the desk to join the others. ]

Did you hear? The second group's shown up.

[kovach]

[ he doesn't need to peer out from behind his hat to know it's her. anytime anyone steps inside, their identity is almost always given away to some extent in the manner in which they do, from the ring of the bell sounding the entrance to the speed in which the door opens signaling the familiarity of the person stepping in from the other side. with marta, there's routine in it now, two weeks in memorizing the pattern from the soft shuffle of her shoes on the wooden floorboards and the exhaled sigh in her breath like she's somehow relieved whenever she makes it past the door (likely from the way she's been regularly trying to dodge conversations in town that might urge her to utter a lie).

admittedly, there's an expectation in the regularity of it now, too, possibly the thing kovacs has come to dread the most. it's never a good idea to get used to anything, and yet, every day, he anticipates the parts of the morning that his business partner steps inside, because it's been made routine, because she's reliable, because she's always there when she says she will be.

(it's all temporary, he reminds himself. because getting used to anything is pointless for someone who knows anything stationary is only going to be picked apart the longer he's in this deal.)

what he doesn't expect is the words she opens up with, snagging at his hat with his fingertips to tip it backwards, revealing his eyes that appear to be as tired as they normally are from lack of sleep, while still remaining somehow attentive like he's just accustomed to working around the exhaustion over time. ]

How's the town reacting? No suspicions? [ he doesn't fully straighten in his seat, boot still propped up but he does shift himself to not be so slumped on the chair. he almost wants to ask who's arrived within the group, but he bites the question back. ]

[naloxone]

[ he makes no comment about her dripping water all over their desk and floors, but marta had already assumed he'd be pretty preoccupied with the news. she searches his eyes like she does every morning, checking to see there still remains a spark in them. ]

None. Most are just happy there's new wagons coming in. Some are even calling it a good omen from the Gods that they came in with the rain.

[ laying low, listening in — these were things marta didn't have to work too hard at. she's used to being overlooked, ignored, or thought so little of that it hardly mattered what was said around her. despite the novelty of newcomers, despite the position kovacs had helped create for her — there are still some things so inherent that the people around wouldn't be able to ignore. or thoroughly ignored, in her case, thanks to that familiar invisibility she wears as a shield.

slowly she leans up against the desk, wiping a hand over her brow and neck to clean some of the water off. in a tone far too nonchalant to be as casual as she hopes it is, ]

Should we go see who's made it?

[kovach]

[ kovacs can hear the heavy rainfall outside, even more audible against the wood structure of the buildings here, hardly surprised to catch marta somewhat drenched by it once she comes in, but if she leaves puddles of evidence around their office, he's the last person to criticize a few wet spots around (to her credit, it isn't blood, which is the kind of mess he typically leaves around when he enters a room).

the topic of conversation seems more worthy of his attention, relieved when it seems like the townspeople aren't any more fazed by the new arrivals than they had been when their own initial group had first arrived. but having already been here two weeks to settle in, it's strange to imagine a whole other set of their team suddenly piling in.

(is clara in this group or the next? for plenty of reasons at the time, he hadn't asked.)

when the private question lingers in his mind, he's shaken out of it by the one marta asks out loud, turning to look at her to find her leaning against the desk, the way he's come to see her do a number of times now to the point where the image is one of the more familiar things he's come to find in this town. ]

Not yet. [ he plucks the cigarette that's been hanging almost forgotten from his lips, frowning when he sees nearly half of it already burnt off. holding it off the edge of the chair, he taps it to let the ash fall, joining the wet floor to just dirty it further. ] Much as we got a good cover here for snooping, we should keep a low head. We'll check out the saloons later to start counting heads. Pretend we're going out for a drink or something.

[naloxone]

[ the state of their office is... passable, at best. if she were to ignore the general explosion of papers the desk is usually in, one could even call it cozy. but it seems dust and dirt remain constants here, and no amount of sweeping really does anything for them. now with the rain added to the mix, marta's about ready to throw in the towel for any hope of getting the place properly cleaned. but maybe that's for the best. maybe it'll discourage certain parties from spending too many of their nights here... ]

Is it really pretending?

[ she won't pretend she couldn't use the drink, after all. but the evening is still some time from now, so the least they can do is be productive a different way.

reaching over the fold of his legs, she plucks up one of the papers from their little request box. ]

Today's lucky winner is... A missing owl-shrew.

[ outside, thunder rumbles like it's laughing, and marta's lips twist into something wry. she drops the slip of paper on kovacs' chest. ]

I hope your boots are waterproof.

[ hers certainly aren't, ugh. ]

[kovach]

The "pretending" part was just to make you feel better.

[ as if kovacs is so often the type to every trying to accommodate people's comfort with the way he talks. if there's anything the orbers picked up fast about him, it's likely his bluntness (and a number of other things, not limited to his excess cigarette intake and apathetic opinion regarding public nudity).

when marta reads off their first request for the morning, he gives an exaggerated scrunch of his nose, peering up at her with an obvious sense of reluctance. ]

Can't we just leave it missing? They know we're not animal control, right?

sindown GOOD CLEAN GUN

[groupiedrifter]

[Newt's taken up a gig at sindown as a pianist because he's, uh, used a little too much money on the pleasure part of this prompt, if you know what I mean. It wasn't too difficult to adapt his work in something a little more western, something that properly gets the rowdy group into the card-playing, beer-drinking mood. Plus, this place pays him quick and easy, cash right into the hand, no long-standing job to be adhered to. It's pretty cool!

The downside is, of course, the types of company that ends up here sometimes. Sure, a lot of people are just wanting to sit around and drink and bone brothel workers, but there's definitely a good amount that think they're reaaaally something intimidating and special. Braccia was way more controlled than this, that's for sure.

One snobby little gunslinger type with a big chip on his fringed shoulder is giving some old drunk a hard time to Newt's left, and it's getting progressively more and more difficult to ignore it. Newt's bad at shutting up. Really, really bad. Oooh, his nerves are building. Finally, he stomps into standing, slapping his hands on the keys.]

Hey! Will you give it a rest and leave the old guy to drink his two-dozen drinks in peace?!

[There's a twirl of a gun, and the gunslinger in all black aims a thin revolver barrel at Newt's face. The group quiets around them, and Newt's mouth snaps shut as the guy says: "What were you saying, little man? You want me to punch your teeth out with some bullets?"]

[kovach]

[ when kovacs comes to sindown tonight, as when he comes here on most nights, it's with the clear intention in minding his own business, and to preferably get the chance to shut down his mind completely with some aid from some much desired company. there's already a woman sliding her fingers against his shoulders, nudging in her body close to his with a glint in her eyes that make the suggestion of going upstairs. he's ready to accept the offer, palm sliding against her hip when he hears the sudden slam of piano keys —

he could ignore it, sure, make the reasonable decision that it has nothing to do with him and go about his business with the lady in his arms. but he's already sighing, like he knows he only ever really has one choice in these scenarios.

pulling away from what he'd hoped to be his good luck for the night, kovacs sneaks through the crowd to make his way towards the piano, slinking up to the man pointing the gun at newt before raising up his own as he slips it out of his jacket. ]

Good entertainment's pretty limited these days. You sure you want to waste those bullets?

[groupiedrifter]

[Newt gulps nervously, but some of the fear that flashes in his expression lifts when he takes note of the familiar face stepping out with his gun pulled. You'd think he was actually totally out of danger, with how he smiles and looks way too at ease.]

Oh hey, man! What's —

[The gunslinger snorts in response, and shoves the barrel of the gun into Newt's cheekbone roughly. "I was never a fan of the piano anyways. Back off, fella, or I'll kill him and you faster than you can blink. I'm the fastest hand in this place, you understand? I've taken out five gunmen in a second flat, nobody ever sees me coming, and if they hear I am, they get the hell out while the getting's good-"

He's gonna keep going, Kovacs. He's gonna talk forever if you let him.]

[kovach]

[ the gunslinger can talk away, since kovacs is going to take advantage of those passing seconds to observe his features, posture, habits — the details in a person, on a body, that spell out everything one needs to know, a talent that comes from his own envoy conditioning.

the talking itself is a dead giveaway that the gunslinger prides himself more on boasting than actual performance, but the gun on newt means he's still plenty capable of enacting violence — so not a completely empty threat but not necessarily the highest level of worry, either. easily distracted, more concerned with making a scene, preoccupied with reputation. finger's on the trigger but not so locked, which leaves a window of opportunity for dodging before a reactive shot— ]

Piano Man, duck.

[ fingers crossed on newt's reflexive response time because kovacs moves quick, swiftly shifting the aim of his own gun, changing the target from the man's face to the man's thigh and pulling the trigger without a beat to spare. ]

[groupiedrifter]

[Piano Man ducks, as instructed!

Which works wonders, because the gunman's strangled sound of surprise at the pain in his thigh is punctuated by another gunshot as he reflexively tightens his grip on the revolver in his hands. The bullet whizzes through empty air into the far wall. And as it does, Newt can't help but feel some sort of familiarity in the moment; Yzak and Raleigh have apparently done him well back aboard the Ximilia, as he critically recognizes an opening and takes it —

Hands move with muscle memory, grabbing the arm holding the gun, and he proceeds to use his small but husky frame to flip the gunslinger over the top of him and onto his back on the floor. It happens kinda quick, and honestly, Newt looks a little surprised that he did that himself. In awe, he perks and says:]

Shit, man, that was so cool-

["I give, I give!" the man says from the floor, his revolver abandoned on the floor. "Don't kill me; I didn't mean no harm by it. I was just messin' around!"]

[kovach]

[ newt isn't the only one to feel the surprise in that little stunt. everything else proceeds as expected, with the gunslinger's reflexive reaction in taking a shot but even with his own skilled observation, he hadn't actually anticipated newt's own movements towards taking action, recalling the last time he'd had to step in and rescue him (to an extent).

aside from a brief widening of his eyes, kovacs carries on his focus for a moment longer, stepping in towards the revolver on the floor and picking it up. opening the chamber, he empties out the remaining bullets into his palm before tosses the gun back to the floor. ]

Well, next time you want to go messing around, don't fuck with the music, alright? Now go give a good tip to the waitresses for being an asshole.

[ turning to newton, he looks him over, pursing his lips a little. ] You good?

[groupiedrifter]

[Listen, Newt doesn't need someone complimenting him for anything he does, because he's already clearly basking in it himself. He stands up a bit taller than usual, almost beaming with victory, the only breaking of the illusion being the way he pushes his big glasses back up his nose.]

I'm great! Dude, I owe you one. You helped me, and didn't punch me in the face this time! [Before he can give Kovacs the chance to even respond, he leans in and gives him a big one-armed squeeze of appreciation.] What a badass; we've got a badass over here!

How do I repay you for stopping my face from getting blown off?

[.......]

... I mean, I totally had it under control, so that wouldn't have happened.

But still.

pleasure

[calmness]

[after just one drink, xichen's still pretty much himself with a bit less stiffness in is shoulders and a more genuine smile on his lips. or, he's more of the man he was before guanyin temple and his arrival on the ximilia.

but that fact is not something he shares, neither here nor there for his fellow orbers.

he's n his way home and inebriated enough though, that when he and kovacs cross paths and the man invites him for a night at the sindown -- well, tim lan does not have the reputation of refusing. not after the last few nights of drinking where they've crossed paths. so back to the sindown it is.

a round of drinks later and another he's sipping slowly, he's leaning back into his seat as he looks around the sindown. he is relaxed here, not sitting with back straight and shoulders squared as he normally does. there's laughter on his lips, teasing and playful words on his tongue laced with more familiarity than warmth that still manages to be distant.

they have some drinks behind them, a poker game ahead and if kovacs' has asked xichen has already encourage their next round of drinks.] You know, I'm quite surprised how similar these establishments are. No matter where you go, it seems. [he motions around the room with the glass he's holding in his hand.]

[kovach]

[ there's a chance it's probably not so wise to be getting himself as drunk as often as he is, loosening up night after night, despite the directive he's supposed to be keeping his attention on. but the weeks have been long, with kovacs having been stuck here for the entirety of a month and some already, little to be discovered save for the abundance of bottom-tier help requests he's been receiving at the detective agency.

these days, the mission hasn't been the only thing on his mind either, having the weight of a recent deal change constantly dragging down on his shoulders, along with a recent break-up that's shaken up and halted the process of him actually having become a bit more pleasant to be around. now, there's a layer of quiet aggravation often present in his moods, only dissipating with the consumption of nightly drinks, giving way to a more lively kovacs albeit with the continued presence of a bit of tension.

finishing up his last shot present on the table as they await their next round, kovacs turns to xichen, his choice of company for the night, brow raised with intrigue. ] You saying you run around houses like these often, Tim?

[calmness]

[xichen hasn't downed his drink yet but he does between his own statement and kovac's answer. he sets the glass down, nose wrinkled. he's not sure what he just had but he laughs a bit.] Not often but I live in one once.

[it's not a pleasant story, all due to circumstances of the war. but it's a tale still to tell and he doesn't quite realize how it may sound to others as he says it aloud.

wilder than it was.]

[kovach]

[ despite how easily willing he'd been about dragging xichen around, how he's come to see him as a viable option for company for all that he's usually determined to avoid having company around to begin with, he still knows fairly little about his life, something that hasn't been more apparent than it is now with the casual confession. ]

Really? [ an interesting lifestyle, but even with how often he's spent here, settling down here for a permanent residence is unlikely. ] What was that like? Doesn't exactly sound quiet.

[calmness]

Really, but only for a short period of time. [not too long, luckily. the tides of the war had turned and xichen had reason to return to his home, to rebuild when it was safer.] It was certainly loud. Louder at night, of course, and no two nights were the same in terms of music or festivities.

[what can you expect.] I helped out with chores and the accounts when --- [he cuts himself off, frowning, then takes a deep breath, shaking his head as if to shake off an unpleasant memory that's settled over him.] When the person normally in charge was unavailable.

It was a good cover. [he looks at kovacs with a sad smile.] No one would normally think to look for me at a brothel of all places. [and then an amused chuckle] Well, except now I'm here quite often aren't I?

[kovach]

[ whatever the reason for living in a brothel, it doesn't sound like it comes with the best of memories, carried in xichen's eyes as kovacs watches him speak. the man carries a kindness in his voice, but the good in someone doesn't always correlate to happier memories, evident here in something he doesn't detail.

kovacs has no reason to push otherwise, so when xichen brings out his chuckle, he gives a quieter one of his own, straightening up in his seat when the next round of drinks finally arrives at their table. ]

Makes for a better dwelling when you're not doing chores. Least you can drink and not worry about all the other bullshit, right?

Crow's Tooth Saloon

[morethan084]

[The pink backpack sticks out like a sore thumb, and yet it oddly brings Daisy some comfort to have something familiar here. She does feel safer to have people here she trusts. Dressed to fit the style of the town, Daisy makes her way over to his table acting as though she has no idea who he is beyond that he's a detective in this town.]

Can I get you another drink? Something to eat?

[She's picked up that something weighs heavy on his mind, and she's doing her best to act as though she hasn't noticed. Except her eyes give it away, that she's concerned.]

[kovach]

[ kovacs knows plenty about blending in, about improvising to make himself sink into the scene, but sometimes this body of his tends to draw more attention than he'd provide, especially considering he never had the choice in picking it in the first place to better suit his intentions. then again, he's not exactly helping matters much with that bag of his, though there's a reliability to the old thing, knowing it'll have what he needs in a pinch, easy to track too amongst all the washed out brown in this place.

it likely also means that the other orbers will know who he is amongst a crowd, and he could see that it's likely what draws daisy his way, raising his brow slightly in seeing her garb, aware that some have put in a little more effort into blending than he has.

by her words, he could tell that she isn't looking to give away their familiarity with one another, common around here where they're all trying to keep their stories straight regarding their histories. he could work with that, of course, taking a long drag from his cigarette before he exhales a heavy breath, straightening a bit in his seat to give her more of his attention. ]

Not too sure this place has what I'm craving.

[morethan084]

[There's a gentle smile on her face that she quickly replaces with something more unusual between the two of them, her body language changes completely into flirtatious. She can play along, and that's the trait she's known for in here. Flirting with the patrons, seemingly to get tips. When, in reality, the money doesn't mean a whole lot to her. She just wants information.]

Oh yeah? What're you craving? Maybe I can suggest something else.

[kovach]

[ he can tell she's putting on an act considering the typical arrangement of their relationship, casualness that often leaves them slumped side by side somewhere to share a smoke. the flirtatious air she has on isn't meant for him, he knows that, and if they both didn't have their roles to play, he might crack a joke or two about it for his own amusement.

but it's easy for him to maintain his posture as just another man of the saloon, downing his drinks, hopeful for a companion even when he lacks the inviting nature for one. ]

Ways to forget.

[ spoken like any other gritty local down on his dumps, though there's irony in those words, knowing he personally doesn't need the aid for doing just that. ]

The bottle only does so much.

[morethan084]

[She's been at this whole improvising thing long enough that she can get into this character easy enough, even if it feels weird to be flirting with him. Sure, he's attractive, but she's never really seen him that way. Especially after their interaction in his memory.

They're both pretty reserved with their emotions, but Daisy noticed back on the station something was off. So it's hard to know if this is an act or not, and she forces herself to not look concerned at all for his well being. Instead she makes a show of looking over her shoulder at her boss before leaning against the table.]

I know a way to make you forget about whatever is troubling you.

[There's people within earshot, so she keeps this up.]

I get off in three minutes, and my room is empty.

[It's a good excuse to get him alone so they can talk openly, see what info he might've gathered. Maybe see what's bothering him too.]