Topic: Guns and Interplanetary Travel

Rayvinn

Date: 2011-12-09 19:48 EST
November 24th

Guns and Interplanetary Travel --Pt I


Mind was neither here nor there, but floating in the space between for now. A few moments to catch his breath, as it were. Or just trip the light fantastic. Still, when it was all over he snapped into place in the Metro. No sickness came with the sudden materialization, he had long since grown used to the feeling of coming into existence. The night was quiet, and the town brooded on such a silence in a way that spoke to Dillon. Telling him how slow the night would be. Well, until he remembered he remembered he had pot and video games at his place. Then it was all aces. Smoke trailed behind him in a slight fog as he prowled the back alleyways. Unseen by both predator and prey. Unnoticed by all until he came to the lawn of the inn and moved his mask into place. Quietly moving up the steps of the porch and inside.

Running shoes thumped up the steps, the powerful length of leg taking them two at a time, until Rayvinn was upon the porch. Bent over with palms pressed just above her knees, the elf was panting heavily and growing increasingly frustrated with herself. She had been home for nearly a month and didn't feel she was any closer to her previous level of health. A four mile run should never have winded her this much. Her muscles shouldn't burn quite this much from the buildup of lactic acid. Her head shouldn't be spinning as if at any moment she could fall over, especially if she closed her eyes.

Oh hello there, foul mood! A sword callused palm slammed into the door at the same time a jutting hipbone was checked into the lower portion and over the threshold, the Harbringer of Chaos stepped...looking worse for the wear. She realized she had nearly knocked Dillon over and offered him all she could force of a sheepish grin. "Mr. Dillon..." Her greeting was quite a bit lacking compared to the usual that required him to answer a near bajillion questions as rapidly as her quick little mouth could spout them out. Across the room and through the break in the bar she went, not a look or greeting for any other patrons, also not the norm. A bottle of water was pulled from the cooler, a note written on her tab, and she was moving back through the break and sliding her waifish form into a booth.

Now Dill could tell just from his own perception, and not some ultratech sensor array, what hand someone used at first glance. Their health. Their fighting style. Most anything that dealt with war. However he had a rather hard time just telling if someone was mad, or happy. Probably had more to do with him lacking a corpus callosum then anything, but that was neither here nor thre. When a usually upbeat and energetic Elfess just walked right by him with a rather singular greeting however, it did snap up a couple of red flags.

"Miss Rayvinn." Rumbled out with a general air of warm greeting, but she had already passed by him in that moment of confusion as Dill caught up to, well, social situations. Really, ask him to kill some eldritch God that was so incomprehensible it made people insane from just looking at it.... and he'll do it without even looking up from his video games. Ask him to ask someone what was wrong, and well, look what happens. Give him a few moments then he was slipping towards the bartop himself. Moving behind it to begin to make himself a new cup of coffee. His choir of artificial intelligences sang to him though, and gave him knowledge. "Rough day?"

"Nope." She drank the majority of the bottle in one long swig and gasped for breath once again, frowning at the bottle like the inanimate object was to be blamed. "Just trying to get my lazy ass back in shape is all." More like trying to make her recently broken body work perfectly without enough time to heal, impatient thing that she was. She slipped out of the booth once more and stood on the rung of a barstool, leaning waaaaay over the bartop to snag a bottle of..something from below. "Dillon...drink one with me?" Oops...forgot the polite formality this time. Apparently she had forgotten she hadnt ever seen the man drink anything other than coffee. Or maybe she was just playing the role of temptress tonight. Before receiving the answer, which would likely be "no," she grabbed up two glasses along with that bottle and slipped off of the bar and went back to her booth in the corner of the bar. Of course, she expected Dillon to join her there, regardless of what he was drinking. Give her a few minutes and his brain would be hers once again.

"Back in shape..." He was just testing out the words more then asking a question. His brow did furrow a bit, but things lined up again. He's been at work too much, it idled his brain in some places. He did however get a cup of coffee, which was his only goal of the night. So, so far so good. When she asked her question, he shrugged broad shoulders and unracked a bottle of bourbon. More then enough of a grip to move both bottle and mug over towards where the woman was sitting so he could slide into the booth himself with a small flourish of his longcoat as to not sit on it. The coat got angry when he did that, and it was a bit of a whiner. "What're you getting in shape for?" His mind assumed she was gearing up to kill someone. Just how he thought.

Which would probably why he and Raye seemed to get along...the way that he thought. She shrugged sweatshirt clad shoulders as she answered, he wasn't likely to get a fully truthful answer from the elfess. "Rehabilitating from injury is all." It was a truth, just not the whole truth, but some truth is better than none, right?

A sharp ebon brow arched as she saw the bottle of bourbon and glass. "Didn't realize you drank. This should be fun." Her gaze was pulled back towards her own bottle that she had blindly pilfered from below the bar. "Apple Pucker. F*ck that. You win." She pushed the bottle of neon green booze aside and lifted his bottle from the table. A small measure was poured into all three glasses before the bottle was placed in the middle of the table. Just a small drink, wouldn't want to look like a drunk, after all.

She slid his glass across the table and offered a half crooked smile. "So, last time we discussed combat jacking and the plasma weapon. You told me about your job and how very much you would like to help sever all of the gods' puppet strings from my life..." She nod-nodded even though that last bit was certainly not true...but the rest was, so maybe he would just go along with it anyway.

"I drink, well, used too. My people's land never makes sugar naturally, so we never made alcohol... It's a bit, different for me. More narcotic then just alcoholic." Though he was indeed pouring himself a drink and handing the bottle over casually. It had been a while, well, relatively. But that didn't seem to mind from Dill. He used to drink so much that this was a homecoming rather then a falling down. But the biotech running through his system could filter out anything he wanted in an eyeblink, turning him from a mess to a sober standup guy. The reason he didn't drink much anymore was because it also worked in reverse. He drank his glass down like others drink water. Setting it on the table top as he felt the heat move down his throat. "Mmmm." Give him a second. "...I never said I'd like to help. That denotes that I ask to do such. I just, do." A slow chuckle. "To anyone who messes with mortality. Gods or otherwise." Just to clarify. "There are a lot of rules for such though.?

"No?" Headcant as she lifted her own glass. "Are you certain? I am pretty sure I heard something like you wanting to kill gods." Damn him for having such a good memory! Her glass was raised as if in toast before the bourbon was tossed back. "Good stuff." She was over that train of thought quickly and focusing back upon his last words, even as she reached for the other glass she had partially filled. "So, what are the rules?" Not that the rules truly concerned her, she didn't generally like to play by the rules. But knowing the rules...that was the first step to knowing how to get around them, bend them, or all out break them.

"I do kill Gods, and Goddesses. Well, by the definition of Gods and Goddesses. Not the, actual God or Goddess." Yeah, he was at least agnostic it seemed. "I do not like to do it though. Too, messy. Demons are easy, even Angels. Just drag them to our level and beat them with experience. Gods are... tricky." He accepted the bottle back with a careful nod. More ritual then thanks. Some parts of him were just hard wired in from a misspent youth. "And the rules are pretty simple. Never kill another mortal. Never fight in populated areas if you can. Other then that it's pretty fair game. Though like I said we only go after Outsiders if they harm a mortal being, or interfere with their lives in a direct way." Another low rumble of a chuckle as he tilted the bottle to his glass with quite a bit of practice. Filling up another drink.

She would need to think on this for a bit to find the loophole, of course. In the meantime, the two fingers of bourbon from the second glass was sipped at as she stared at him for a moment, the wheels in her mind obviously turning--churning out a plot of some kind, most likely. Then again, she might just be thinking. "Do you like guns, Mr. Dillon?" Ahh...there was the formality again. She had never before called him by his name in a familiar manner, so this was a sure sign she was getting back to "normal"...or as normal as one with such a crazy fractured mind could be. Looked pretty normal, though, right? She was smiling just right. Maintaining eye contact. Sipping a drink. Perfectly normal.

Normal was a relative term. Especially when it was around him. "I adore firearms. Though it has been decades since I have used them..." A low rumble. A bit of a secret, or more like an omission. He didn't like people knowing that he wasn't as adept in firearms like he once was. Though, the bitter truth was... "I don't really need to use them anymore. Chemical based propellant is.... Kind of looked down at where at work for being antiquated technology. A common firearm doesn't even register on our ranks for dangerousness. Well it does, but its so low it's not even a threat. To us, or to what we hunt." Usual slow explanation. More used to listening then talking, but he can do the latter rather well.

Rayvinn

Date: 2011-12-09 19:51 EST
Some people, no, most people spent this day with family and loved ones. Others, like those gathered in the Inn, spent it with strangers. Others yet refused to do any of those things. For Dave, this day was like any other day. Business as usual. The hum of a tuned exhaust heralded his arrival, Serena pulled up to the curb before he spilled out of the passenger side and stepped onto the curb with his hand on the door; turning around, he closed the door and pointed at a vacant driver's seat. A smirk and a shake of his head. ?You stay close? The car took off, leaving him in the glow of brakelights before it skidded around a corner. A chuckle as he tugged on the lapels of that exquisitely tailored Dormeuil suit, shrugging his shoulders to better adjust the jacket. ?Bitch.?

She waved a hand of dismissal at his explanation for not using a gun. "Aside from work...I remember seeing your other weapons, I realize you don't *need* to use firearms. But...what about for fun?" She sipped at the bourbon again and nodded to something or other she had either heard or was thinking. "Mr. Dillon, we are going shooting. No cheating and using those technocrazy weapons you have. Just a straight up handgun and a target." Another nod as she decided this was a most excellent idea. Of course, as with all -excellent- ideas that Rayvinn had...best to be cautious. Of course, Dillon was like a f'ing Superman, if Raye knew what that was, so what could go wrong...right?

It was said with affection, of course. Up the stairs of the porch, reaching into the inner pocket of his jacket and pulling a cigar free as he shouldered through the door. A glance around would find four others, two of which he knew better than most. He spoke to them as he passed by Jackie and Acillio, looking them over with a shameless curiosity as he rounded the bar and studied his cigar for a few moments before drawing it across flaring nostrils. A nod of approval, his words spilling out drunkenly. ?Well, well, well...If it isn't Jack and Jill. Jack..? Nod to Dillon. ?Jill..? Nod to Rayvinn. ?Thirsty?? Snagging up a bottle of vodka from the top shelf and setting it down to rest upon the bar counter. Three shotglasses were set to rest beside the bottle before he made his way back around the bar. Didn't seem like they had much choice at the moment. Kicking a barstool out of his way, he sidled up against the bar and smelled the cigar again

Speaking of handguns and fun..."Dave. Who let you out of the pound?" He was blown a little kiss before she smirked and grabbed the bottle of bourbon she and Dillon had been drinking. She motioned Dave over with it before refilling Dillon's glass and her own and then pushing the bottle back across the table towards him.

"Har har har har." Over to Dave in a way of a greeting, but he did grin warmly. Dave got a lot more room then others when it came to Dillon, perhaps only because Dillon wasn't foolish. He'd kill an eldritch God in a heartbeat, but he'd think twice about stepping to Dave. "Rack them up man. And I would be happy to Miss Rayvinn.Just that I haven't shot a gun in... little over 80 years." Was he, apprehensive? Perhaps. Firearms spoke to a more primal and dark side of his personality. Was like a blade with noise and -pressure-. So damn lovely. "I guess I would be happy to go. You wanna go shooting Dave?"

"Dave adores pointing guns...especially at poor harmless little elven women." She was so harmless, after all. Compared to the company she was keeping lately, she was rather helpless, though no one should tell her this little tidbit of truth. "Of course, little elven women don't have a problem with pointing one right back, do they Dave?" She actually grinned at him, as he was a great source of amusement for her. "So, do we need to find you a gun, Mr. Dillon?" She returned her gaze to Dillon for a moment as she finished off the glass of bourbon she had just poured.

?Whiskey.?. Smirking in jest..?Animals..? As long as they were drinking it didn't much matter. That was as much as an invite as he needed. Pushing off the bar with his bottle of vodka and one shotglass in tow, he joined them at their table; a seat nudged out with his knee before he settled into it. ?Shooting? I don't know how.? A lazy smile as he set the bottle and the shotglass onto the tabletop. A cigar cutter was pulled from a pocket and the butt of it was snipped as he turned in his chair, facing away from them for a moment. He went through the motions of lighting that cigar, shaking the match out as his cheeks drew in from the effort of getting the cherry going strong. Smoke roiled out from his nostrils and he shook his head for Rayvinn's comment. ?You disappointed me that day, Rayvinn.? Obviously, he believed she should have shot him. A smirk for that after pulling the cigar from his lips and tipping his head back to send a plume of smoke towards the rafters.::

"Aww so sorry to disappoint you, doll. For some reason I thought your miserable hide was worth keeping around for a while longer." Obviously she didn't know exactly what he was...not that it would have mattered, she still would have pulled her gun in retaliation. She picked up the piece of cigar that had been snipped off and lifted it to her nose, inhaling deeply before smiling. "I can never get over how good these smell." She lifted a hand to move through the smoke lazily, as if fascinated by the way the plume separated and reformed into some different smoke shape. "Perhaps we will try that again, one day." She offered a little wink before looking down at her empty glass.

"I'd probably point a gun at you too when the situation called for it." A slow nod there, at least defending Dave's choice in the matter. Rayvinn was not some gentle flower not yet in bloom. "And for the record my armory has more firearms in it then the population of most planets. And I am constantly adding to it like some, crazy child with an urge to have an army." He already had one of those. But it was kind of hard to stop when even the making of the armory was automated, much less the making of the firearms. "My automated factories produce something along the lines of a few thousand tonnes of goods a day. Mostly weaponry. So, the armory grows." Taking another drink of his bourbon, taking it down as he looked between the two casually. The more he drank, the better the night got it seemed. Or at least the more relaxed he became.

"Well, then I insist on seeing this armory because I have an army of one to outfit." Cheesy--army of one. Not entirely untrue, however. Rayvinn had her uses, afterall. Ever since she had learned what a gun was and had been taught to use one earlier in the year, she had been reeled in...hook, line and sinker. If it was a weapon of any kind, Raye wanted to touch it. She would prefer to caress the hilt of her sword than a man, preferred to pull the trigger of a gun than that of a man--though that might be a bit crude to mention. She wasn't very high tech but she was curious and she was just naturally inclined to "get" weapons. They made sense to her, almost as if she could hear them speak to her. Of course, the elf was looney as hell so she might claim at some point that they do talk to her.

He chuckled for Rayvinn's appreciation for the cigar before turning and listening to Dillon spill the beans with a grin. ?You know, if you're interested I can hook you up with a few buyers. Get some trouble going on around here again.? Spoken like an old man who missed the old days; after all, one of the more nefarious of Rhy'Din's residents doesn't appeal to a man with Dillon's job with anything other than nostalgia. Reaching up, he patted at his chest in a check before producing a cigar and holding it out in silent offerance to Rayvinn. Whether she took it or not, the same was offered to Dillon. Another draw from his cigar when the process was done, reaching out to uncork that bottle and pour himself a shot. For as drunk as he was he somehow managed not to spill a drop. Trading the bottle for the shot, he smirked.::To lesbians and virgins. Thanks for nothin'.

"Do you have a place you prefer to practice shooting, Mr. Dillon?" She was already itching to slide out of the booth and get going with the plan to shoot a few targets and possibly talk Dillon out of some explosives. It couldn't hurt to try.

"Lesbians are cool." He'd take the cigar of course. He never turned down free vices. In some circles the offering of a rail of yayo was akin to someone else offering their guest a glass of water. Just how it worked out. "There used to be a pair of pros in the town. The Dame and the Kitten. Are they still around?" asking Dave of course, because, well, he'd know. But he moved off when Ray asked her questions. A shrug of shoulders. "I don't mind showing you the Armory, and yes, I do have ranges there." Ranges? It was a planet. He had -range-. And the automated factories kept adding new spaces, even when he wasn't thinking on it. Even the gathering of needed materials was automated, requiring Dillon to just find them. "Mmmm, I never made a good arms dealer Dave. You know that. Would rather shoot the people and take their money..." And this was the guy protecting everyone.

She accepted, he knew she would. She brought the cigar up to sniff at before looking at Dave with a laugh. "You are incorrigble. But seriously... I don't get the lesbian thing. I mean, I understand thinking a woman is hot...but, no men? Really?" She shook her head a little as if she were suddenly some expert on sexuality. Even Dave knew it hadn't been all that long ago that Raye would have allowed the floor to swallow her up before she would ever have discussed sex. Well, little Miss Innocent could really give a f*ck less now. Too much had happened in too short a period of time to change her. Life was far too short, even for an elf, to be worried about modesty and propriety.

Shoot the people and take their money. She just grinned as she heard Dillon and shook her head. He had weapons that blew her mind, so she was rather glad to be on the side of shooting "with" him and not being shot "at" by him. "Alright...armory and ranges...ready?" Patience wasn't a virtue she possessed, everyone knew this. Wait until Raye realized she was going to another planet to see all of this. Buy some earplugs...or a muzzle.

Downing his shot after his toast, he nodded to Dillon. Candor was not something to be trifled with. He offered up the truth as easily as Dillon had.::If they are-::A slight shrug as he set the shotglass down. ?I haven't seen 'em...? His voice trailed off as he glanced over to Jackie's outburst, watching her for a few moments. Always be wary of someone who didn't know what they were doing for they were often the most deadly. ?Off to shoot guns?? Extending his left arm with a snap of his elbow to get the sleeve of his jacket to ride up far enough for him to see his watch. A draw from his cigar as he checked the time. His arm lowered and, with a shake of his wrist, the sleeve of his jacket fell back into place. Turning his chin, he exhaled over his shoulder before going through the motions of filling up another shot. His eyes scanned over them. ?You aren't drunk enough yet.? His wise conclusion.

Rayvinn was certain it was Dave's sole purpose in life to force her to wait around, ruin her fun, or in some way or other f*ck up her plans. "Gahh...Dave. We can get drunk on the way." Truth.

" #$%^&* they were awesome..." A somewhat of a sad response there from Dillon back to Dave. Dame and Kitten were worth the price. Though not like he'd do anything now a days. He was as tame as a castrated bull. A look over toards Ray when she spoke up. "Right now?" He'd have to do some heavy math. "It will at least be a bit of time. This is not a walk down to the corner. It's... a bit of distance." A few million light years give or take. A look over to Dave. "I guess we are. Wanna come along?"

"How much distance?" rapid fire reply from the elf as she refilled her glass and tipped it up, swallowing the contents in one long swallow. The cigar was sniffed again before she tapped it upon the table a few times. "We can wait until another night if that works out better for ya. I can take a raincheck and a few cartfuls of explosives for the imposition." She offered a sweet smile and an encouraging nod. Hey, it was worth a try.

He sniffed slightly, like an animal weighing the possible outcomes; an animal that refused to trust. He was looking at Dillon for a long, unblinking moment as he drew from his cigar. ?If I wake up in a brig...? A thick smoke spilled out with his words, meaning he hadn't inhaled. His eyes narrowed so as to not let his eyes burn in the smoke as he glanced over to Jackie and he smirked. ?You go on without me, Kids. Daddy wants to play...Or maybe Peaches would like to come along.? He'd caught her staring.::Hmm?::A questioning tick of his chin.::

She was caught but she didn't look sheepish about it one bit. The question was weighed in her head, the brief silence filled with another long pull of whiskey before she shook her head. "Ain't much lookin' to travel with a buncha people I don't know to play with guns. Not that I don't like guns, but that's how them horror movies usually start from what I hear." She shrugged and gave a wide smile. "Thanks for the offer though, darlin'."

"It's on another planet." In way of an answer to Ray. "It takes a bit of, thinking to get me and you there. Dave's not much of a problem, I've got a lot of info on him." Said while speaking to Ray, just to make Dave a bit more paranoid. A puff of his cigar contently before he pulled it out from his lips and held it in the crook of his finger. Giving Dave a chuckle and a grin, but he remained quiet so the man could do what he was doing. "And you'd like our brig! Spacious rooms, great food, and you might be neighbors with an ancient and incomprehensible demon, or some tentacled monster from beyond! I mean, think of the sociological applications."

There was a bit of a clatter out on the porch, before the gnome came in, taking off her goggles, and using then to fan away a wisp of smoke coming off her clothes. "Whatever you do.. don't go off the left side of the porch for the next ten minutes..."

Rayvinn

Date: 2011-12-09 19:52 EST
"On.." She tilted her head, that mess of hair pulled into the ponytail swayed from the effort. "..another..planet? Are you f*cking serious, Dillon?" Oops, she had dropped the formality again. She just shook her head at Dave. "You'd get luckier if you didn't call *every* woman Peaches." That was just her opinion, however. He received a bit of a crooked grin as she slid his bottle of vodka over to fill up her glass then shook the bottle in the direction of the woman Dave was speaking with. "Care for a drink?"

?I hate you.? Sarcastically spoken to Dillon even as he continued staring right back at Jackie. Whether the said hatred was for the man's dossier or his description of the brig was unknown; perhaps both. ?Well then come on over and make yourself acquainted, Peaches. Bring a shotglass for yourself.? The words were distinctly expectant, as if he knew she had nothing better to do. Laughing, he looked to Rayvinn. ?I don't call every woman 'Peaches? Just the ones he wouldn't mind eating; besides, she didn't know it yet but her name had been changed to Billy. She would know soon, perhaps not tonight but soon indeed. He almost coughed on his pull from the cigar when Portia entered. ?Maestro...?? The ingenious gnome had come under the slaver's employ almost a year ago now but she still scared the hell out of him with comments like that. The way he'd spoken her name was enough for her to know that he needed more details before he could relax.

Cough cough. ?Just.. a small chemical fire, Boss. Should burn itself out soon enough.?

Rayvinn immediately looked for the gnome's stilts, remembering the first time she had met the Maestro. Gods but that had been some hellaciously hilarious fun! A wave of "her" bottle of vodka towards the gnome before it was settled upon the table once more and a drink was taken from the glass.


"In his defense, Peaches ain't all that bad where I come from. I been known to call m'self that throughout the years." She lifted her glass of whiskey in the woman's direction. "All set on drinks, but thank you kindly, miss." She refilled the glass with more whiskey and then she was sauntering out from behind the bar and over to the trio. The smoking gnomel got a look and a raised brow as she dragged a chair over to the trio and sank down into it. "Name's Jackie Daniels." Said with a lift of her glass in greeting to all of them.

?Well met, Jackie. I'm Raye." Simple enough, and she lifted her glass to the woman in a return greeting before a small sip was taken.

Dill whistled a few bars from a Steve Miller band song before Ray's question got a look from him again. He spoke in the space that the gnome had made. Great silence came after such a thing. "Mmm, yes. My planet actually. Terran enviroment. No habitable population. My automated factories are actually stationed in the asteriod belts nearby." A slow nod there, serious as a heart attack. And dosier? Come on Dave, Dill has more then that on the man. Though he'd never admit such. Or the tiny sensor that follows him around. "It's not a bad planet. Kind of lame, to be honest. No real predators, a lot of herbivores. There are hydras though, but they leave me alone."

Once she was certain all the smouldering was finished on her own person, she wandered her way over to Dave and handed him what was likely the source of said fire, a rather charred looking wooden box about the size of a sardine tin. ?At least we know the new fuel suppliment burns well.?

"Pleasure to meet yah, Raye." She took a sip from her glass, her gaze shifting to Dill as he spoke of his planet. Usually Jackie always knew what to say but everything about what Dill had said was leaving her at a loss. So, she continued to drink. Because you can't go wrong there.

"So, you are taking me to another planet to see your personal armory, shoot at your ranges and give me large amounts of explosives and some new guns? Sweet." All he had to do was even look like his head was tilting forward an inch and she would call that a nod which was consent which meant she would finally get her hands on something useful. "I don't have a clue what a hydra is, Mr. Dillon but I am pretty sure it must be a smart creature to leave you alone." And she would drink to that, glass was lifted to do just that.

A sigh of relief when Portia explained. Chemical fires he could deal with but he wouldn't even get close to another dimensional rift again. Seeing himself mow a lawn with kids playing outside was ordeal enough. A nod to Jackie, introducing himself and the others as Portia approached. ?I'm Dave.? A tick of his chin in Dillon's direction. ?That there's Dillon Jones. Cute, isn't he?? A draw from his cigar, chuckling before plucking the stogey from the corner of his mouth and indicating Portia. ? Maestro. You want something built, invented or improved then she's your gnome.? A slight smile before he turned his attention to Portia, the silver eyes of a blackphase timberwolf snapping down to the box. ?Is that what I think it is?? Clamping his teeth around the cigar to free his hands up before reaching out to take the box.

"Big, snake like creature with multiple heads. They ain't so bad, but they are becoming intelligent. They have a pack mentality, that's really a stepping stone for evolution. I've begun to move everything to another location, but it will take years. I just don't want these things evolving intelligence in a few millions years and suddenly digging down to find more weapons they they can handle." Yeah, he thought about such. Would be nice to have just a nice, plain, tame planet. He was already looking around, but there was a few.... billion to go through. Plus he wanted to keep it off Company radar. "And yes, mark one weapons though. You ain't getting into the mark two shit." A slow shake of his head. "Dun need people running around here with anti-matter rays and positron emitters."

To be fair, the dimensional rift wasn't entirely her fault. Serena had played a hand in that one. ?Uh huh. Just a sample though. The rest'll be here Monday.?

She didn't have a clue what the hell he was talking about but if he said she wasn't getting it, then she knew it was exactly what she wanted. For now, she would play it cool. "What is the mark one stuff?" Hell, she would settle for some C4, she had recently learned what that was. Suuuuch fun...nice boom.

"Dave, Dillion, Raye, and Maestro." She lowered her glass with a smile. "Alright, we're acquainted. But I still ain't comin', thank you all the same." Her chin was lifted in Dill's direction. "He's ain't doin' so good at sellin' the idea of his planet what with the big snakes and stuff like that." A hand lifted to Dill. "No offense." She was back to sipping her drink, her gaze shifting to the box passed from Portia to Dave.

He nodded, unwilling to reveal the contents of that box to the table. ?Get yourself that wine you like so much, Maestro. On me? Shifting in his seat so as to tuck that small box into a pocket. There was a pleased smile on his face but little did he know Dillon's tiny #$%^&* sensor would let the man in on the "progress" his little project was making. Needless to say, the few people that did consider themselves his friend would be getting more sparsely numbered very soon. Business was business, after all. Pulling the cigar from his mouth, he took that shot he'd filled up a few minutes ago; drinking it down as if it were water. The cigar was ashed to the side as he listened to Dillon describe his planet.::Explains everything.::A smirk.::

She looked at Jackie like the woman had three heads. "I think he is selling it great. Snakes with multiple heads...f*cking cool"

"Hello." Nice enough to the woman he was talking near about his planet with giant snakes and more weapons then entire civilisations would need. But he looked back over to Ray. "Mark one stuff is.... normal stuff. Military grade? I dunno. Normal weapons." It was hard to explain. "If it could kill a mortal being easily, it's in mark one catagory. If it leaves nothing of the mortal being, it belongs in mark two." A slow nod there, that was a better way to put it. "If it kills the mortal being and
: cracks the planet that you are on down to the magma mantle, then it's mark three." The mark system, goes up to ten... A look over to Dave again with a cut of a grin. "Hey, I offered you this years ago. Could of already gone rogue and become a God of your own little galaxy by now but nooooo, you have to be the consumate rebel."
?Hydra venom is a rather valuable commodity...? Something almost lustful in the soft statement, like she'd just die to get her hands on some. Instead though she bounced her way behind the bar and climbed up to get down that bottle of wine. Good top shelf stuff.

The look from Raye didn't seem to bother Jackie any and she only shrugged in reply. "Maybe I jus' ain't a snake person like you are." She settled back into her seat, listening as more explanations and conversation floated about. All of it taken in with more whiskey. Now that she was looking down at her glass she realized she should have dragged the bottle over with her from the bar.

Oh yeah, she was gonna find a way to get the mark two stuff. Who wouldn't want some of that? Not that she was displeased with the thought of bringing back military grade explosives and personal weapons, because the thought of it made Raye smile like a kid on Christmas morning. Only for her personal Christmas...Santa was Dillon sans the big belly and white beard. Maybe that rumbling laugh of his could be considered jolly if one drank enough of Dave's high grade vodka. The thought made her smirk. She wouldn't allow herself to think of the mark three grade and up. It was good to dream but reality, when she could actually grasp it, suited her much better. Of course, Dillon messed up when he mentioned "...become a God of your own little galaxy..." hadn't that been -exactly- Raye's goal since she was just a wee little elf? It had, indeed! She offered Jackie a crooked grin as she shrugged. "Snakes ain't for everybody, nope."

"Milking the hydra is quite a troublesome process though." A pause.... "Milking the hydra...." He tried that out for use later when making lewd sexual comments to his foes.

"Mr. Dillon..." she just stared at him. "Why...the hell...would you milk a three headed snake?" The fact that he nearly burned RhyDin City to the ground...or melted it, or whatever...that didn't make him crazy. Milking snakes...yeah, there was the crazy stuff right there.

?Oh I don't know about that. Good hydra wrangler or six and a proper distilling plant and you could be in business.?

He couldn't help but laugh for that one, snickering softly with a slow shake of his head. A wink to Jackie, then, in faux apology for Dillon's Hydra comment. ?Boys'll be boys.? Glancing over his shoulder, he spotted Maestro having her way with her wine and beckoned her to rejoin them as he took another pull from his cigar. A lick of his lips, tasting the fine tobacco before he sent another plume of smoke sailing towards the rafters. Still chuckling to himself, he shamelessly watched Jackie. She had newcomer practically stamped on her forehead. They were always fun to watch. ?Don't get your hopes up, Maestro. Dillon's a tease.?

"The gnome is right. Hydra venom is quite lucrative. Not to mention, exceptionally impressive for chemical and medical technologies. In fact one of our absorbtion agents comes from Hydra venom. It's quite effective in anti-viral work, even for mutated and outsiders strands of virii." A couple of nods. "Plus the older hydras are pretty smart. I've only met one that could communicate though, he actually works for me now."

She walked her way right across the bartop to where the other's sat, plunking down on the counter. ?Oh I know Boss. Quality hydra venom takes centuries to extract.?

Smirking, he took another draw from his cigar before putting it out by grinding the business end against the underside of the tabletop. It was simply, nonchalantly dropped to the floor afterwards; filling up his shotglass again as he listened in. ?Heads up, Peaches.? Exhaling that last draw over his shoulder before sliding the bottle across the table for Jackie to make use of. Probably wasn't her poison but he had made vodka drinkers out of better.::

She smiled at Dave. "Trust me, I might not get everythin' everyone says, but 'boys'll be boys' is somethin' I know. Pretty sure I got a brand of those words on me somewhere 'cause I live by 'em so much." Dave's stare was easily returned then she gestured at him with her whiskey glass. "Last time I saw you, yah were lookin' a lot different. Wearin' leather if my mind is right." What little of her whiskey left was drained from the glass. It was then refilled with the offered vodka, though she didn?t seem in much of a rush to take that first pull.

?Can't ride wearing something like this at this time of the year.? An easy enough explanation, though perhaps the vodka made it easier to admit the truth of it, for he usually wore an old pair of jeans when he rode. ?Besides, I needed to see if I still fit into those pants? It had been years, after all. As far as the vodka went, she would find it carried no odor and tasted little more than slightly salted water even at room temperature. ?It's from back home. Even the Russian Quarter still can't make a decent vodka out here.? Jackie had probably just found her first fellow Earthling, though he hardly carried a trace of his true roots; nor did he sound like he missed the place by the way he spoke the word 'home'.::

The gnome seemed happy to just observe the others as she worked her way through the wine, probably already off in her own world making plans for her next project... Poor Dave's bank account.

Raye blinked a few times to refocus her gaze and smirked at Dave. "I never get drunk until I drink your booze, I am startin' to think there is something in it." Because she hadn't already drank a large majority of a bottle of bourbon -before- she started in on the vodka, right. But it had to be Dave's fault as most things were, he was an excellent scapegoat when one needed to blame someone for their less than savory behavior.

Raye stood up, a little wobbly, and grinned that charming little crooked grin that graced her angular features more often than not. "Heh..hope I get up the stairs without breaking something I might need." Like her trigger finger! She leaned over and ruffled Dillon's hair a little then looked at Dave. A hand lifted as if she would do the same to him before she laughed and lowered her hand. "I ain't in the mood for a gunfight right now." Obviously, she was deathly ill if she wasn't wanting to shoot something. She smiled at everyone as she slid from her side of the booth, running shoes lightly thumping upon the wooden floor as she finally made it free of the booth and staggered for the steps.

"Don't forget boys...we are milking hydras and shooting asteroids next time! Drunk!" And she would be finding some way to get her hands on some proper weapons. She knew a few people that needed to not exist any longer and apparently the mark two weapons could make that happen. Her step was suddenly a little peppier as she stumbled up the stairs; her uproarious cackling could be heard down the stairs by the other patrons. Room one twenty-two was eventually located and she fished around for the key out of her yoga pants before -finally- getting inside and promptly passing out on the bed.

"Fair 'nough. Can't say I coulda pictured it in my head the other night, but now that I see it right in front of me? Yah pull off both looks jus' fine." When he spoke of the vodka she lifted the glass to take a brief inhale of it before a sip followed. It wasn't bad and her expression said as much. She was about to ask for details about home even if he didn't sound that enthused about it when Raye's words and movement stole her attention. She lifted her glass in a silent goodbye to the girl while watching her stumble off and up the stairs. She quickly made a mental note to not drink this vodka as quickly as she did the whiskey, even if it did go down smoothly.

A knowing smile as he watched Rayvinn depart. Dave had been there more times than he could count and he still wasn't done. ?Take care, now..? Watching her depart and staring at the staircase which led up to the rooms long after she'd disappeared from sight. A harumph, looking back and smirking for Jackie's observation as he knocked back another shot.

Rayvinn

Date: 2011-12-09 20:01 EST
November 25th

The Infinite Armory


When it came time he did not take any chances. Not that there were any mistakes anymore, but he was a man from the 'old' times at The Company. When hundreds of people were just, lost, during transits. Or worse, came out of a jump... wrong. But totally on the up and up now! Statistically irrelevant. And like any good foolish pilot will tell you, Dill's done this a thousand times. Nothing to worry about... Well, there was Dillon's arrival. Which came on the city like a hammer striking the anvil.

Equal rights people in Rhy'Din might say that magic and technology shared equal parts of the city. But let's be honest, they don't. It was magically rich, thick. And Dillon was anything but magical. He actually arrived a few blocks away but people could feel it just for that split second before technology kicked in to actually counter-act his own technologies presence. But he was there. And he definitely was not wearing a suit. He almost had it down by the time he came to the lawn of the inn but there was still a long range of problems. Mana still dispersed around his form, dying a sharp death of entropy at his technological presence. Sizzling off in whispy purple like mists. But that was just here and there. The grass died, and lived. And was born. Not entirely in that order. A worm grew super intelligence and decided to make a break for it, but was picked up by a raven that became a well decorated bunt cake with a surprised worm inside of it. Again, this was not was normally happened around Dillon. But you put oil and water together and strange shit happened.

The first step onto the porch of the inn and the wood almost splintered trying to get away from him. He paused right there, not daring to put anymore weight on the groaning structure. Alright then... He eased back slowly and came to a rest on the cobblestones outside. "Can you pleeeeeease get her up?" Asking... the inn... with a nice little flourish of a bow towards the porch. Smartassly done of course, but at least it had some air of respect. Let the inn decide how to get her up, but one can be assured... when the thing you are sleeping in wants you to wake up, you wake up.


Since Dillon had been slightly respectful, only one of the front windows broke; as if there had been an explosion from inside the building, the glass blew outwards in a forceful motion that left large shards in the yard in front of the Inn. Apparently the Inn was a ?one trick wonder? this morning, however and the way it chose to awaken the elf wasn?t far different than the warning it had given Dill.

The large bay window in room one hundred twenty-two also busted and out sailed the bed that Rayvinn was snoozing so soundly upon. The bed rushed to the ground, still right side up, but took a sharp change of direction so that it landed upon the porch between Dill and the front door, right upon the distressed wood. What happens when something heavy lands roughly upon something weak? The porch fell in; the boards collapsing inward with Raye still asleep in her bed until she landed upon the cellar floor. Whatever happened to Dill during all of this was a mystery but every inch of wood and stone upon the Inn groaned and shuddered as if to say ?Since you asked so nicely, Dillon.?

Raye opened her eyes without bothering to sit up. ?So this is what happens when I decide to close my eyes for just a second. The whole damned world just erupts.? Typical of such a seemingly self-centered elf.



It probably was not the best way to wake up, admittedly. But Dillon can say with a straight face that he's waken up people with much worse. He didn't even flinch, but that was unsurprising. Clothing for the man was probably as normal as one could imagine. Though from Dillon's stance this was one of the few times he actually came to the Metro, in the flesh. The actual flesh. And clothing became a bit of a variable when one could decide anything they wanted to wear with a thought. But a white hanes T shirt and jeans worked anywhere. Plus he tossed a leather coat on it, even if the coat was beat to piss. All the choices of nigh-infinity and he went with T shirt and jeans. "I would say something smart ass, but that actually was a bit of a messed up way to wake up." Hey, the man liked his sleep. But he was still grinning a bit. He wasn't expecting that, but he'll take it.

"We're going on a trip. A long one but a short one. In the tradition I am borne to there is no way I can say no to a reasonable request from an innocent... So you are going to the Armory. My, Armory." As if it was something, but, well it was. Willy Wonkalike. He held a keys to a magical, massively insanely armed place. And this was actually, part of his job in a weird way. It was his duty, to arm her. It was his charge and honor. And he took these things... well it looked like he was being a big smart ass. But he took them very seriously. "So up, up. I don't know if you have to put something on, or do your hair, or whatever it is women do... I try not to think of those things." A big smart ass.


For a very long moment, Rayvinn just laid there in the bed, with the blankets pulled up to her chin. She heard Dillon without any difficulty what-so-ever but she hadn?t yet decided how to respond to all of this. Finally she sat up, yawned casually as she looked around then peered upwards in the direction she had heard the voice of Dillon. Couldn?t mistake that voice, after all.

?It was an entirely messed up way to wake up, yes. I am just going to assume you are responsible for this and not ask even one question.? A clue that it was definitely a messed up way to awaken...since when had Rayvinn not asked Dill a plethora of questions from the very second he came into sight. She was obviously handling this all quite well. ?You don?t reside in RhyDin, at the Red Dragon especially, and not expect something entirely ridiculous to happen.? Truth.

Her feet came over the edge of the bed and she grimaced a little at the cold that touched the small expanse of skin bared from her pajama pant leg riding up. There was something wet and slimy touching the bottom of her foot now as well and this is what earned Dillon the scowl from the nine levels of hell as she finally focused through the dusty air upon Dillon?s face peering down at her. ?You couldn?t behave like a normal man and possibly send a card of invitation telling me at what time and on what day to be ready? You had to throw me down into the cellar? Good Gods, Mr. Dillon..if this is how you treat women you are just taking to shoot, I would hate to see how you treat a date.? She kept muttering under her breath as she looked around and finally found the steps up.

?I will meet you upstairs. I am going to my room to get cleaned up. Yes, I need to put some different clothes on as pajamas are not acceptable attire for a shooting range. I am going to brush my hair because I prefer not to go around with debris in it. As for what else women do to get ready...I simply cannot trust you with a secret that could destroy the entire universe. Can I, Dillon?? All of this was spoken so patiently as if Raye was speaking to a child. He was a man..so in her mind...same thing.

It really was the same thing in that odd way. Even weirder when you realized someone, gave the man absolutely way too much power. The real question came in just how insane he actual was with all of it. Now he was insane before he even got such things, for clarity?s sake let's just say that. He was trained to kill from six years old by a hyper-intelligent corporation, taken from a people who regularly eat demons. Even just saying that out loud makes people insane. But the sun hasn't exploded yet, so so far, so good.

"Alright, alright... I'll wait out here." With hands outstretched. Hard to tell who he was talking to though, the inn or the woman inside of it. Hey, before he left he used to have a room at the inn. Besides the town itself was screwy.

He did his best to keep a low profile, which was insanely hard to do when random insects around you were zapping alight in puffs of smoke around you like you were some large bug zapper. These were the things he had to deal with to do his job. And even then, this was him muted and quiet. It wasn't hard to see why he tended not to come around, in the full sense of the word. Any more of him and the town might just begin to rebel. Still he managed it to work. Even sparking up a cigarette out there on the lawn as he waited. Note he didn't ask anything about the woman stuff. Still blissfully unaware.

Jeans and a t-shirt. That was standard fare when she wasn?t trying to win some fashionista award. However, Raye?s t-shirts generally spoke her mind for her. Just take a little guess what it might be saying today. A jean jacket that had seen better days was tossed over the red shirt and a pair of boots with minimal heels (gasp!) were pulled on. This was after she had washed the goo off, of course. Going for the uber-glamorous look, Raye brushed her hair and pulled the long, unruly lockes into ponytail, grabbed her bag, armed herself--it wasn?t nice to run about the universe naked of course, and made her way down the stairs.

There was a pot of coffee already made, probably the Inn?s way of apologizing; after feeling around beneath the bar, she found a thermos and filled it. Cups and thermos were shoved against her body so she could open the door and she just stopped as there was a massive gaping hole between herself and Dillon. He was just given a ?are you effing serious?? look as she shook her head and extended a leg to the side to step upon the wider ledge of porch.

Raye extended the thermos and coffee mugs at him, fully intending that he would carry something. ?Coffee.? It was rather obvious, but she apparently needed to be certain he understood. Not such a morning person, was she?

Shoulders just kind of raised, and lowered in a casual shrug. What could he say, this is what he does. Though the cup and thermos? Priceless. Literally priceless. It actually had him laughing a little bit. "Oh my dear, you have no idea how funny this all is. But you will, in a few minutes." Rumbled out to her as he pointedly flexed fingers in the air as he began to walk away. "I am going to need both hands for this one." In way of explanation.

He was moving to the street. Not that he needed to, but he actually didn't want to push his luck with the inn. It tended to remember shit. "It all began actually in nineteen fourty three. When the Terran United States began the experiments to create the first of a new kind of weapon. The atom bomb." Rumbled out behind her, with a tone of somewhat nobility. He might of been a smart ass, but he was never patronizing. Even now he seemed to exude a heavy respect. For her, for his words, for everything. As it was Dillon actually there, it was also him there in a full mind. And so... a bit weirder in some ways. Or just eventually... Send people through. ?You might... want to close your eyes for this bit." And then, like a whip crack. -Snap-. They just weren't in Rhy'Din anymore.

They were in a rather large, plain, white room. White floors, white walls. No doors. But she might not realize that right off. The first jump was always a bit of an unknown. Sending your form between dimensions to another point in space/time perhaps trillions of miles away... tended to have a bit of an affect on people. Dill's done it, literally, hundreds of thousands of times before. It was as easy to him as having a cigarette. Plus the tech was smoother then when he was starting out. But still... "You alright?" Asked over to her, once he had stabilized them both and tied down the math so some of his artificial intelligences could take over.

She couldn?t help but smile a little as he laughed. Shoving the thermos and cups into her bag, she arched a brow at his words. ?Need both hands for...what??

She followed behind him as he moved to the street, watching him curiously as he spoke. She had read several books about Earth and was always intrigued when someone could tell her more about it. She was *just* about to begin her usual rapid fire questioning but then he was telling her to close her eyes...so she did.

When her lashes fluttered open once again, she was staring at a white floor, as she dry heaved over and over. ?Ughhh what did you do to me?? Straightening, or attempting to, with her hands pressed to her legs to help keep herself partially upright; she forced her gaze to roam over her surroundings, taking in...nothing.

A sharp inhalation of breath was released slowly as she forced her mind to just stop its mad racing. Pushing up from her leaned over position, she wobbled just slightly before finally stiffening her spine and regaining her usual posture. ?I?m fine,? was offered before her one question was asked. ?Where are we??

"What I did to you was encased you in an electromagnetic bubble and snapped every atom of your form across space into another dimension. Well not technically, we kind of skip in the quantum foam between dimensions..." Quantum foam. It was a real thing. Only Terrans could come up with a name that fun. "...It tends to bend the laws of reality enough that going, uhhh... 941.4 billion miles away from Rhy'Din to a planet orbiting a yellow star half way across the galaxy, isn't that big of a deal." It was, that big of a deal. To her stomach. When she got up to her old self he grinned a bit. See, right as rain. "Which is where we are. Another planet. Under it, actually. Give or take five or so kilometers under the surface? I never thought about it."

Now, is when he would do the talking. Only because, well, there was a bit of explaining to do. She would just have to keep pace. "The fifty two artificial intelligences that administer this place have coined a name for this place... and I can't override naming functions. So, welcome to the Infinity Armory." Rumbled over to her as he made a flourish to... the empty room they were standing in. "Oh, shit. Give me a second. Been a while..." Once he turned and noticed the blank wall. Then the wall began to split open at the middle of sets of panels. Moving away mechanically to open and reveal a space that... was beyond a space. It was so large it had a horizon. It wasn't even filled with anything mostly. Just emptiness seperated by rather large sections of floors that held up massive arrays of containers. In some places these large floors moved, collided with other floors and became larger. And larger. And larger. As they seemed to be standing above the largest set of floors. It was large, but still large enough to kind of get a dimension of. Dillon didn't recommend it, she might get vertigo. "Called such because it is in constant production. Of weapons. Ammo. Even new areas and production facilities... It builds to build more."

Raye couldn?t even comprehend what he was saying to her. Even if she hadn?t just been hurled 941.4 billion miles away from RhyDin, encased in an electromagnetic bubble, she wouldn?t have comprehended most of what he said. Poor Dill, making friends with lower functioning mortals must just..suck! Except that he would get the immense amusement of watching her reaction.

?Another planet. Infinity Armory.? She just nodded at first like this happened to her every day. She just stared at him for a moment as he indicated the bland, plain white room devoid of windows or doors (she did notice that finally as she was contemplating her escape--so typically Rayvinn). ?This is your armory? You made me nearly puke for this?? Turning to stare at him incredulously.
Then the wall opened and there was just...a vastness she also couldn?t fathom. What she could comprehend, however, and she clung to like a drowning man to a life preserver; there were containers of weapons farther than the eye could see.

Turning back to Dillon with eyes wider than they had perhaps ever been, she finally spoke. ?You did something to those petty gods and I somehow have been admitted to Heaven, after all.? Because an entire world of weapons, most she had no name for, equaled pure bliss to the elf...and heaven was supposed to be bliss right? Forget the faulty logic that if there was a heaven, it would contain the means of killing the entire population of...anywhere.

?Best f*cking day of my life. No lie.? And off she went. She had been beyond terrified even five minutes prior...and now she was just running off. There were so many things to explore, after all.

"Ha! Good reaction." Just what he looked for really. Anyone who isn't at the least bit in joy isn't mortal. Mortality was about weaponry. At least in Dillon's mind it was. It was the universal middle finger to whatever was out there. And it was pure technology. The lawman had a bit of an affinity for it.