Tilted Abacus

[Raron]

Darkness, as long as he could remembered he had never dreamed. Not while he was asleep, or perhaps he did dream, did swim through the night time hallucination but his brain purged them upon awaking. All he knew that some time during the night, day, whenever he was asleep he would become aware he was unconscious. Aware he was floating in a black beyond black that stretch on towards infinity and back again. He knew he wasn't awake, hadn't regained his body yet but instead laid where he had lost his connection to the waking world as 'still as death' as one late night acquaintance had point it so poetically one night after shaking him awake to make sure he hadn't had a heart attack during the night.

Slowly he could feel himself drifted towards gravity, towards the aches and pains and twinges from a hundred old wounds. Back to the prison and freedom of his body and yet in this blackness he felt so close to an answer, an answer to a question he didn't even know he had. Slowly he sank, and his eyes flew open just in time to whisper to the room.

"Alarm cancel... Bring it to sun rise."

He lay in his bed as his emerald green eyes looked up and watched as the stars vanished before the coming dawn. Sitting slowly on his elbows he sat on his red satin sheets and watched his own personal sunrise. The corner of his mouth twitched in a grin as he looked upon the light of the rising sun hit his bed and the beach sand underneath. He looked over the the side opposite himself where the covers were more crumpled, more messy and looked upon the empty space and sighed as he brought himself more upright. Old joint protested and aches and pains reminded him he had indeed not escaped them as he put his naked feet upon the sand and reached up to rub his face. He claws skimmed across the red scales of his flesh, scales that were getting grayer by the day, and down his chin before reaching without looking to his bed side table and plucking a thinly rolled cigar from a mahogany box. Lifting one end to his lips he bit off the tip and spat it into a trash can nearby and then puffed out his checks as a thin finger of flame reached out briefly caressing the brown wrapping before creating the familiar red cherry at the end of the cigar as the smell of tobacco and sea salt filled the air and the warmth of the run hit his body.

Tarsus Ridge, Fixer, Took his first puff of tobacco for the day. Unlike the scene of the sunset, a scene created by heat lamps, holograms and a cleaver paint job and carpet choice the tobacco in his cigars was real sure it was expensive but that synthbacco always left him with this horrible after taste and Ordo Seaman didn't make a synth brand and the smell of Sea salt and Tobacco was sometimes the only thing that got him through the really bad days.

"Window view."

His gravelly voice rumbled as enough of the hologram disapated and shifted showing a view outside. Sure enough it was in the middle of the expected rain cycle, two days dry, one day soaking as expected. It had been that way longer then he could remember but he admitted it looked worse then usual out there today. Looked cold and miserable... It was going to be one of those days and the absence of his companion from last night testified to that. Looking around on the opposite bed side table of the large bed he found what he was looking for. A note from the woman from the party last night. A friend had invited him to a party, he had met her, green hair, long ears, lilth muscles. They had talked and then left the party... the note simply said "Thanks - L" ... he wished he could remember what L stood for. Hooking up with a random stranger wasn't something he usually did. He was fairly old for behavior like that but... sometimes... well he was still male, she had been interested and bored with the party. He shrugged, his massive shoulders rolling with the motion. Slowly he stood a seven foot tank of a 'man'. Dismissing the view of the rain with a wave of his hand and a muttering to cancel the view he walked to his bathroom where simple black and white tile greeted him.

Reaching to his toothbrush the view in the mirror looked back at him a bit bleary. He had been up a bit too late with his... friend... the two of them up most of the night. He was surprised that she had gotten out without waking him but her muscles on her form, certain calluses... he knew that looks didn't equal age any more and he had a feeling she was a professional in something that had nothing to do with last night. He looked at himself, sixty one years old... not in bad shape. The canvas of muscle was a bit more... covered then it used to be but it was still there. The canvas was also much more scarred then it used to be... but better then the alternative. The scares were worst on his back, the shelled carapace of the red... mostly ankyosaur was covered in scars, cuts, a few cracks healed. The scars would never really fade. The ones on his back that hurt him the least were the most visible. As for his chest... he poked his stomach feeling the firmness of the dermal armor... and excellent investment for sure.

Smiling past the cigar at a body under the effects of the ravages of age he couldn't help but remark.

"And yet they still come to you with their problems... guess there is no substitute for experience... at least that is what... Lilith!"

Tarsus snapped his claw tips and grinned, his sharp curved teeth flashing back at him.

"That was her name..."

Whistling to himself he washed off his face careful not to put out his cigar and taking a side trip to the kitchen to grab his coffee he went back to watch the sunrise.

[kitsuneflare88]

Hunter had woken up just a few minutes ago he was still tired but it was going to be time to work soon enough. He sighed to himself and began his morning routine. He first did push ups around 30 or so that way he was stretched and limber but not exhausted. He did a few other exercises like chin ups, sit ups, and other such activities.

He had always been someone who had to have something to do, he couldn't sit down and do nothing. So in order to stop himself from going nuts he exercised in the mornings the minute he woke up so as to stay limber and fit.

After he finished his morning stuff he went into his bathroom and brushed his sharp dagger like teeth. Before he went back into his own room. He grabbed a shirt his sweater and jeans, he then made his way to his front door

He shut it with a slam before locking it, he used one of those old fashioned key locks. With a click it closed and he threw up his hood. Satisfied with how he looked he smiled to himself and began his run.

He sprinted full tilt down the stairs, and when he came to the landing jumped in the air put his feett onto the the wall ran along it for a breif moment before he continued his sprint down three floors running full tilt as he usually did.

Thus started the beginning of hunter's day, morning exercises followed by a morning run through parts of the town before he headed over to the office to help his friend tarsus.

His day always began an hour or so earlier than those of his friends.

[Nemo]

Beep!

Like a microwave. Yeah. It was the only sound that came first, oddly cheerful.

A single robotic claw was the first thing to move in the darkness of the warehouse. It spun, the sound of oiled servos whirring the only noise present. In the absolute darkness of the early hours of morning, it pressed the power button on an old stereo system - one that played actual discs instead of data, an antique in its own right. The ancient, unconnected machine whirred to life, the disc in it spinning, illuminated by a bottom light in the darkness. Once at full spin, the claw pressed the play button.

(( ))

Things began to turn on. Lights flicked and sputtered as power was fed to them at last as the sound of stylized heartbeats echoed through speakers around the warehouse, filling the small world of the warehouse with the throbbing sound.

Then other things began to awaken. The robotic arm spun around and regarded its paused project only a moment before resuming its work, several others in concert commencing their functions in the process, like an elegant dance to the beat of the music playing through the oldschool stereo system.

Lines of pink text on a black field began to pour across a computer screen, and then the drones began to move - little helicopter toys retrofit with cameras buzzed about, crawlers went about the business of cleanup (each and every one painted black and fit with white lace trimmings), and little holograms - all of them depicting a pink-furred catgirl in a white sundress with anime proportions, went about their business, seeming to wave and jump up and down directing the little robots - a fun little touch, but that was Pheobe's nature.

She liked noise. "Strictly Necessary" didn't figure largely into her projects.

Come to that... there was a lot of pink about the place. There were posters on the walls here and there. Things were duct taped and jury rigged and all over the place - it certainly was not the scene of a conventional factory. In fact, it wasn't a factory at all, even if it was rented as such. Oh dear, if only her landlord knew...

Just the same, a combat drone should not have pink armor and project a bubbly catgirl. One would think it should... be gunmetal grey and project a soldier or something... Well up yours, Sanity. Pheobe (fee-bee) don't need your combat muffins.

[Raron]

Armed with a bit of coffee... and by a bit Tarsus admitted he had drunk half a pot in one sitting... but when you were size XXL you needed half a pot just to wet your throat. But with that coffee in his system he wondered to a set of hand carved mahogany from Melchior 7 dressers and pulled out his outfit for the day. The thing was he sometimes missed the old days when all he needed was a big enough Speedball Jersey and a pair of jeans and he could call himself good... but times had long since changed. He wasn't just getting jobs from street level or the edges anymore. He had even done some jobs for a pair of Corers. He still got the hebies when ever he thought of their perfect features, their sparkling eyes, and those flat white outfits perfectly creased... but with that situation change over the years he had to look just right. Dignified but dangerous but still approachable. A previous... acquaintance had helped him find the balance.

Reaching into the drawer he pulled out the pants first that his drawers had presses while he slept. The smell of dry cleaned wafting to his nose. He shook them and then went to sliding the pants up to his tail he opened the tail fasteners and slid them over the stump left of his natural tail, after a bare couple of inches it went to metal shining in the unnatural light. Overlapping v shaped plates went down the hulking limb to a silver orb bisecting by a ring which barely glowed a neon blue. You had to squint to see the slight cast the light cast upon the orb but Tarsus as he latched the tail fasteners of his pants the corner of his right eye was filled with status reports on his tail as the ring pulsed briefly with light before dimming. His efficiency was down another .02 percent after last night and he made a mental note to go get a tune up before the week was out. The implant connecting the status of his limb continued spewing data as he reached into another drawer on continued dressing.

Before long he was dressed, a white shirt of a slightly shiny fabric was on his torso thin cuts going from in line with his his armpits down diagonally to almost his diaphragm decorated the chest of the shirt while the stomach was horizontal lines embroidered to the material flush with his belly giving him a slighter more muscular look then he possess. It was simply nature as he got older he wasn't less powerful but it was harder to keep a perfectly trim belly when you weren't starving to death by inches. The pants were straight black except for the neon green pocket lining and hemlines. It was a pretty formal and subtle outfit giving him a quiet dignity compared to most outfits. Nodding at the outfit he walked to the sun in his room and placed his hand on a spot on the wall and the walls slid out revealing a armory that would give the most fanatic supporter of freedom to bear arms either a scare or the need for new underpants... for a different reason.

Reaching up he started pulling out... devices... a mini grenade dispenser went around his waist, the dispenser behind his back. A pair of shoulder harnesses held a pair of revolvers built off a shotgun platform. He liked them for the sheer variety of rounds he could use. On his hips were a twin pair of machine pistols more there to provide cover fire and volume was best for that. He checked the clips briefly before grabbing his "lil" bootknife. He held it up for a minute and tilted the blade. It was an odd knife, more a short sword then anything one, double bladed. One side of the blade was a simple blade, a metal edge that gleamed with a wave pattern to it. The other side through was flat, a small slat cut out of the blade but it was still a blade for a port faced another port with the slot between them. Phobe called it an 'Arc Knife' Didn't have a long time period it was usuable, small battery, but once armed it would melt through just about anything. Sliding it home in the built in knife sheath in his boots he pulled his coat out in the middle of the weapon locker and slid it on.

The brown faux leather of the material was lined with ballestic liners, good enough against street level weapons but then again so was most of his flesh... but no sense taking chance, it was also flame retardant and shock and chemical resistant. It was fairly fashionable in it's cut and had more hidden pockets then a magicians cape. As he pulled it on and old tone came to his lips and his voice warbled it as he strode towards his door grabbing a soymeal bar out of a drawer as he sang.

"That is when I reach for my revolver~"

[kitsuneflare88]

Hunter ran his way through town he slid over benches, and occassionally lept over minor obstacles as he made his way down the busy streets. He smiled as he finally started to feel winded from his excersices, he figured it was time to visit pheobe and see what that strange brainiac had been up to.

He smiled to himself as he leapt over a fence right behind pheobe's apartment. He figured it would be polite to first try the front door. It was strange she would sometimes meet him outside when he came to visit. He had never seen her front door, shrugging and making a mental not that next time he should call ahead he knocked.

As he did so he noticed that there were a few oddly placed pannels and pads. As his claws knocked on the door a trap door opened and a large turret was aiming a laser site at him. He Probably had an anime chibi moment of aboslute shock and horror as he stared at the turret.

Figuring now wasn't a good time he Boooked it away from the scary front door. "WHYY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" was the only thought that he managed to say while he ran screaming until he reached the bottom flight of stares. "Wait.....I wonder..." he thought for a few seconds "its worth a shot."

Hunter made his way along the building until he was away from the front door. "Ahh hell worth a try." He said to himself as he ran at the wall, he then lept and grabbed onto a window ledge. He then made his way up the building with surprising speed and agility, given that he was barely given adaquet handholds.

He made his way up to pheobe's living room window and clung to the window as he used a claw to knock on the door with his claw. "Damn it I hate this." he thought to himself as he tapped at the window while simultaneously struggling to keep his grip on the window.

[Nemo]

No sooner had Pheobe really gotten into the swing of things than some complete bastard set off her proximity alarms. Intoning a little prayer to the gods for patience, she cycled through viewports to see what had set off the system. Nope... the turret tilted its barrel, confused, and made a little whirring noise as its barrel spun up before returning into its panel. She sent her consciousness outward and little cameras, hidden all around her little fortress, did their merry work.

One of her holoprojected catgirls stamped a foot and flitted off, the hoverdrone working its way through the mess of activity that occupied most of her factory floor to the guest room - a ten by twenty room dominated by two huge old matching couches, a coffee table, a refrigerator, and a coffee pot on a stand in the corner - more of a break room than a living room, because that was exactly what it was.

The drone flitted to the window and pushed it open after working the latch, the projected catgirl (in full maid's uniform) tapping her foot some distance behind it.

"I gave you a key necklace, not once but twice! What happens to them, I wonder? What if I'd been out?" She miffed, but there was little venom behind it. She was glad to see him and it showed in the smile that broke in the corner of her mouth. She made a valiant effort at keeping a pokerface for all of six seconds before grinning! She was glad to see him - no ammount of irk would hide it - he just looked so silly running around, then dangling sheepishly by her window!

[Raron]

Tarsus was still singing as he got to his garage and pursed his lips for a moment in indecision. Truthfully he would prefer to climb aboard his Fuji Exile Hovercycle. The feeling of the air pouring over his limbs, the rush of the danger that came with no protection on the sides, the heart pounding drops... but he needed to pick some people up, maybe do some errands and while the cycle was a wonderful creation of steel, plastic, and physic defying science... but he supposed he would have to settle for what little Phe called "The Hearse" Large, black, and with more trunk space then God it sat clamped in the garage, shining black and chrome it was what many called 'retro' but Tarsus liked it's classic look and the power under the hood and had been modified to something that could keep up with just about anything except the fastest of corecity crafts.

With a smile at that thought he ran his thumb over the scanner and a soft beep rang out as the door slid open for him and he dropped himself into the seats that were already heating up for him. The holo displays popped up and he ran a finger over them as he engaged the engine, set the radio to a station that Phe called 'Dad Rock' blared in the confines of the car and a voice announced to him.

"You have five points left on your~"

Tarsus swiped his finger over a orange cursor."

"EYUWIO ZAPPANOCK--- You have two hundred and twenty five points left on your license."

Tarsus smiled as the garage opened and the clamps released letting his car drift in the open air and pull out into the sky. You didn't get as old as he was without cheating.

[kitsuneflare88]

Hunter shrugged as he tried to remember what had happened to the key. They had a knack for being hard to find, they always seemed to make there way into areas where he couldn't get to them or he would simply be unable to find them.

"Sorry pheobs, I just can't seem to keep track of them. You know they shouldn't be so tinny doesn't help to much." he said as he slid into the room with a smile on his muzzle. He stretched his semi sore muscles, a moment before he sat down. "Those little bastards have a knack for getting into places i just can't find them." He added with a big grin.

He gave her a reassuring and ammused smile as he sat there one leg on his knee. Oddly he couldn't seem to sit still for a long period of time, as he sat there. He gave a sigh of relief, "I see the old dinosaur aint here yet." he added with a wry grin as he thought about tarsus.

He laid back as far as possible laying in the pillows as he looked at the pheb's apartment. His smile there as he laid back his hands behind his head giving him a very lazy look as he crossed his legs, his eyes almost closed as he waited. "Hehe...slowpoke."