Freeport 10's "Sylvania Dome"

[Sabru]

Ryka blushes at the compliment."My Big Brother told me all about Achille and his 'ways'." Ryka thinks for a second. "Wait a minute. You mentioned someone named Jessica. Who is that, and why is it a shame that you arent here?" Ryka's suspicions are raised.

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[Remnant]

Pausing for a moment, bursting out laughing. Putting her hands behind her back with a slight grin. "s-sorry, I don't mean to be rude, you're the first person to react that way though. Don't worry about Jessica, with luck you won't have to meet her. She doesn't float around these parts too often, a sister of mine. While she's probably quite a bit smarter than I am, she does have tenancies to go after other women. As long as you don't make her mad, you'll be fine. Just.. don't worry, don't worry, she won't be around here."

Calming herself down again with another quiet apology.

"Achillie is.. difficult to deal with sometimes, i'm sure you'll find that out yourself. If you're used to people acting one way, you'll find that he tends to defy every single law that you put out for human nature. You get used to it though. Just don't tick him off and you'll be fine. Hopefully."

[JaaY]

A large yawn spread across Sean's face and his mouth gaped open as remarkable sign of fatigue. As the deep breath he took before escaped his lungs again, he tried to remember the last time he slept but failed to do so. It were probably just a few days, but it felt like months.
The exhaustion dragged him down, physically as well as mentally. His concentration was on the lowest point possible. Perhaps the reason for his insomnia was his subconscious mind automatically trying to protect him from experiencing these gruesome nightmares, which would haunt him every once in a while. Should he visit a doctor? A therapist? A psychologist? However, it also made sense if the stress would be too much for him to take. He just seemed to be not able to unwind.

Sean continued to ponder about this for several more hours, while occasionally fading into microsleep. Such days were a real rarity; it gave him almost a break from all of the chaos around him. Almost.

---

[Enkidu]

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Commonport One.

---

She was as barbaric and seething as a kettle of vermin. Her docking bays were a pulsing bedlam, her biomes a twisted Eden. Luxury, debauchery, criminality and necessity all packed together in the Last Chance Saloon before the desolated mysteries of the Omicron regions, and the intrigues of the hispanic worlds.

Insistently, you find the throb of the crowd repelling you with its headiness, pushing you away towards the silent spaces and creeping lines of the corridors as you roam instinctively towards the outer superstructure, winding east, if east would bear a meaning at all on a fragile, material space station - synthetic chaos through which no compass would point north. Their was no north; no magnetic guide-rail from which to orient yourself.



A batch, a door, another rat-run of plastic and polymer, and the labyrinth unexpectedly spits you into the sun. Except there is no sun - the horizon is a hologram and the warmth you feel from the vents mere feedback from the station's heat sinks. But you can dream.



"Oai, asshole, drop the mop and find me a sidewinder fang. Light. Don't spit in it." You yell at the nobody cleaning the floor from grot of the previous patrons - as you gently find your feet and a chair with which to stare across the concourse - and flip him a credit chip. Suddenly, the Taus seemed just a wee less desolate.



You relax into your chair. Perhaps you're asking for it?

---

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THE SYNDIC LEAGUES
(A co-operative of Rheinland's outlawed trade unions, determined to take the underworld for themselves.)

Information | Recruitment | Message Dump |
Feedback | Diplomatic channel

(Links pending redevelopment).

[Johnathan Nox Carter]

A tall figure enters the Dome silently, while the only thing that may peak interest is his dark-blue jacket with a curious emblem on the shoulder. Upon closer inspection though, the silvery patch quickly denotes his affiliation to the Crayter Republic (even though the squadron designation is only a number: 17th).

He paces slowly through the crowd of various people, ranging from diplomats and traders to less "pleasant" individuals, while he casually looks around with a stoic certainty in his eyes. After a couple of minutes, he stops in front of a zoner managing the area.

He gazez right into the man's eyes and asks: "Tara Snow, where do I find her?"

[Remnant]

The man keeping an eye on things tilts his head slightly. Rather curious that someone would inquire directly to the Administrator without any prior announcements on who he was, or what he was doing here. Crossing his arms slowly, he says smoothly.

"I'm sure any business around the Freeport that may be of concern to yourself, I can take care of. Is there a problem?" He states smoothly, giving him an inquisitive look.

[Johnathan Nox Carter]

Questions were to be expected, but it wasn't a real issue. The Crayterian glanced away for a second, then replied:
"While I'm sure you are a very capable person, it's miss Snow that I'm interested in talking to."
He pauses for a moment, and lets out a slight grin, barely noticeable.
"Rest assured, there's no problem. However, what I have to say, she'll want to hear - at least if the TAZ were right about her."
During his words, his comm. unit flashed a few times, but as he noticed, he merely silenced the device and maintained a steady stance in front of the zoner, finishing his phrase, then awaiting a response.

[Remnant]

The man lets out a quiet breath. Shaking his head a little bit. "I suppose I don't know enough of your business to make that decision for her." Motioning behind himself. "Out of the building into the Biodome. The park outside. You'll find a small creek. She's usually around there when she has free time. Lucky for you, you caught her when she came back to the Freeport and isn't on the Bell currently.

She shouldn't be too difficult to miss. She's the one trying a little too hard to avoid people."

[Johnathan Nox Carter]

~trying a little too hard to avoid people... that sounds interesting~ he thought to himself.
With a firm nod, the Crayterian replied "I appreciate the help.", then gently started moving, taking the route indicated by the zoner.

A minute later, he found himself near the suggested creek, with sparkling water flowing quietly and a lovely woman in sight. He took a couple of steps towards her, then cleared his throat loudly.

A plain "Good day." could be heard.

[Remnant]

The female glances up hearing someone approach. Standing to her full height. Having been sitting on the grass, some papers and a tablet right next to her.

"Good afternoon.." Crossing her arms in front of her curiously.

"Well then, what can I do for you. I would make up an excuse and say i'm busy.." Glancing down at the papers. "Although sadly that's not the case right now."
Eying the uniform and the patch. Seeming wary. "Don't tell me there's been another NoFireZone breach which I haven't been told about yet.. Those are always a pain to deal with."