02-22-2010, 06:54 AM
A tall figure loomed over the bar on Barrier Gate. Viewed through the dim lighting and prevalent smoke of the place, the hulking shape was only vaguely humanoid. It gestured for a drink, and those closer to it could hear its rasping metallic voice calling for a bloody daquiri, large. Once the drink arrived, the large hands slid around the tumbler, fingers smoothly positioning themselves to support it. It raised the drink to its head, and a hiss of pressurized air escaping could be heard as its face slid open to reveal that of a twentysomething man. He took a deep draught, set the glass down, and ruminated.
A disheveled man to the figure's right, glanced at the face and a spark of recognition light his eye. "You...I knowsh you..." The giant ignored the obvious great intoxication of the other, and stared fixedly on its drink. Undissuaded, the other pressed on. "You're Danielsh Schneider! You...you killshd my brother!" Daniel didn't look up. If the staggering drunk next to him got worked up into a frenzy and did something stupid, he would have only himself to blame for the consequences. The other man's face twisted into a rictus of hatred, and he snatched Daniel's drink. "LISHTEN TO ME, YOU BASHTARD!" Then he drew back his arm and hurled the glass at Schneider's head. Click, whoosh, clunk. The faceplate on Daniel's armor slid and locked into place, pressurized oxygen feed activated, and the magnetic pads on the soles of his feet sought and latched to the steel floor.
"You ruined my drink, punk. That annoys me. Your family knows a good morgue, I assume."
The drunk looked a bit put out by the ineffectiveness of his attack, but he recovered quickly, flailing about him before his questing hands found and grasped a bottle of wine on the counter opposite. The man whose drink had just been stolen started to protest, but slid into a gibbering heap as the thief smashed off the neck against his head. Thus armed, he turned again to face Schneider, who was watching in amusement at the antics of this man. With a hoarse yell, the other launched himself at the armored figure, swinging his improvised knife wildly and catching several of the other patrons across the face or arm as he did so. As he drew his arm back to strike, an alloy-clad hand backfisted him across the room, knocking over several tables, drinks, waiters, and incensed patrons on his way to a hard meeting with an unforgiving wall. Daniel walked over to where he lay, picked him up by his throat. In the utter silence of the bar, everyone could hear the faint whine of motors driving the soft-spoken behemoth's right arm as it forced the dazed man up against the wall. Up, up, up, feet off the floor, held in place only by an arm and a grip of steel.
"Tell me, why shouldn't I kill him?" This was addressed to everyone in the room, but a single voice answered. It belonged to a man slightly shorter than Schneider's own two meter frame, or at least, what was left of the man. Render Beleren stood up from his seat and strode out the door. "It's unprofessional, Schneider, and you know it. Let's go, Keller's got a job for us." Daniel made sure the man's nose was broken before he let go, and then almost as an afterthought, broke his left thumb. They headed for the hangar and their ships.
A disheveled man to the figure's right, glanced at the face and a spark of recognition light his eye. "You...I knowsh you..." The giant ignored the obvious great intoxication of the other, and stared fixedly on its drink. Undissuaded, the other pressed on. "You're Danielsh Schneider! You...you killshd my brother!" Daniel didn't look up. If the staggering drunk next to him got worked up into a frenzy and did something stupid, he would have only himself to blame for the consequences. The other man's face twisted into a rictus of hatred, and he snatched Daniel's drink. "LISHTEN TO ME, YOU BASHTARD!" Then he drew back his arm and hurled the glass at Schneider's head. Click, whoosh, clunk. The faceplate on Daniel's armor slid and locked into place, pressurized oxygen feed activated, and the magnetic pads on the soles of his feet sought and latched to the steel floor.
"You ruined my drink, punk. That annoys me. Your family knows a good morgue, I assume."
The drunk looked a bit put out by the ineffectiveness of his attack, but he recovered quickly, flailing about him before his questing hands found and grasped a bottle of wine on the counter opposite. The man whose drink had just been stolen started to protest, but slid into a gibbering heap as the thief smashed off the neck against his head. Thus armed, he turned again to face Schneider, who was watching in amusement at the antics of this man. With a hoarse yell, the other launched himself at the armored figure, swinging his improvised knife wildly and catching several of the other patrons across the face or arm as he did so. As he drew his arm back to strike, an alloy-clad hand backfisted him across the room, knocking over several tables, drinks, waiters, and incensed patrons on his way to a hard meeting with an unforgiving wall. Daniel walked over to where he lay, picked him up by his throat. In the utter silence of the bar, everyone could hear the faint whine of motors driving the soft-spoken behemoth's right arm as it forced the dazed man up against the wall. Up, up, up, feet off the floor, held in place only by an arm and a grip of steel.
"Tell me, why shouldn't I kill him?" This was addressed to everyone in the room, but a single voice answered. It belonged to a man slightly shorter than Schneider's own two meter frame, or at least, what was left of the man. Render Beleren stood up from his seat and strode out the door. "It's unprofessional, Schneider, and you know it. Let's go, Keller's got a job for us." Daniel made sure the man's nose was broken before he let go, and then almost as an afterthought, broke his left thumb. They headed for the hangar and their ships.