Who is Chacal?

[Gen]

Who IS Chacal?

Like a snake in a really chaotic swamp, the question twirled around in his dark, murky mind. It bit him. Bit him in the eye.

He couldn't get this very question off his mind. Everything else was numbed, and this, very, resilient, annoying... thought... poked him so deep, it made it impossible for him to get a bit of a sleep.

What is her name? Jackie? Jeb? Jenny? WHO THE BLEEP IS CHACAL?

He sprung up on to his butt. Sat on the side of his messy bed along with some half full and some long finished bottles of liquor. He lit a cigar then hid his head inbetween his elbows for a bit of shelter, as if this would help him get rid of his pain.

"What is the matter, honey?" rouse a voice. He turned to look at this woman. Narrowed his eyes and wondered if this really is the one he brought with himself tonight. When did she grow a pimple as large as an apple on her usually very beautiful, little nose? Did he make love to her so strongly that she lost half her teeth? How did she grow a beard?

Even these questions could not cope up with the one which burned his mind so deep and was hurting.

WHO IS CHACAL?!

He had to find out. That poor gallic boy he met earlier loved Chacal so much, he would even offer Llarnas a threesome, even a penta-some, if Llarnas could find this sweetheart. The thought made his cheeks wet with tears. He was so deeply touched. He had to find this woman for the sake of love. Love HAD to win. (And free orgies didn't sound awful)

Standing up on feet and pulling up his zipper, Llarnas was determined to solve this case. He stumbled ahead, took a pause, looked behind to the bed where the other person had started to snore loudly. He narrowed his eyes. Memories of that night were extremely hazy. Shrugging, he took a half finished bottle and took a swig. Stepped out of the little part of the dorm in the Legion's barracks, over an Alferez, as carefully as his wonky legs would approve.

[Silver]

"WHO IS THIS CHACAL BAKAYARŌ???"

Tomoe 'Shiv' Gozen shouted under her mask, as she was starting her rounds, checking the Legion ships. As the resident tech, it was usual that by now that the masked tiny Kusarian was around the Legion bay, acting like the bay chief, and being the bay chief to be honest, and coordinating efforts. The Legion Maltesa had little resources, and she knew her knowledge from her time in the Blood Dragons would serve the Legion well. Throwing a wrench at the ship, she looked at the maltese bay workers.

"WHO IN THE BLEEPIN FRACK FLIES THIS, BAKAS?"

Noticing the hues in the ship, Tomoe raged at it, since it was laser burns, a pain to remove from the armor plates. What a night she was about to have, fixing it.
.

---

[8:32:45 PM] Dusty Lens: Oh no, let me get that. Hello? Oh it's my grandma. She says to be roleplay.
[12:12:00] Traxit: this is smut stop

[Backo]

Eliza was reviewing recent Legion reports in her temporary quarters on Cali Base in Tau-23. Swinging slowly in her seat she tiredly stared into the PDA that served as the only real illumination in the room. It was late again, her back was slightly numb from the rough metal chair that not even the pilot jacket she had taken off and used as a cushion could soften enough to feel comfy. Her only relief was that she was finally out of her flight suit boots and her naked feet could rest on top of the desk, helping her to keep balance on just the two legs of the chair.

The thought of actually sitting up straight popped into her head as she was waiting for her device to load the next report but putting her feet on the cold floor was something she was adamant to avoid. With a quiet sigh she tossed the idea out and gazed back into the illuminating display to read the dozenth or so report. Great, it was about those miners again. Eliza didn't like the miners and she reckoned they didn't like her back. They were a boring bunch to her so she quickly skimmed through the report and got to the comms log that was attached underneath taking note of each of the transponder names that were scattered among the lines.

Once done with the report Valdez twisted her head backwards and stared blankly into the ceiling. Her dull face suddenly twisted into confusion and with a quiet voice she mumbled to herself, Wait... Who's Chacal? Confusion soon changed into surprise as she felt her feet lift from the desk. She had swung her balance too far back - behind the two legs she was balancing the chair on and was now at the beginning of her free fall to the solid, cold ground. Instinctively she dropped the PDA in her lap and sprung her hands as wide as possible trying to imitate a bird flapping it's wings in a desperate attempt to undo her mistake. A loud and short OUCH! soon followed, her brave attempt to regain balance was all in vain. Screw this, it was time for bed...

---

[Gagadug.]

Dolfo sat in one of the many bars of Barrier Gate, sipping on his rum now and then. It had been a busy day in Liberty and he was ordered back to the Taus.
But not before he got some rest. Moving fighting units of the Legion was a far less organized process than it would have been in an actual military, the men and women got their next location and arrived when they could make it. Or not at all before they made some money for the fuel.
Now Dolfo didn't have this problem after the day he spent in Shikoku, he even had the cash to get himself a nice room on the gate and relax for a brief amount of time.
Thinking about more rum while sipping on the one he got he got bumped by some stranger.

You'd better go to the second floor, a man with your sign on the jacket started a brawl. Not so clever to start a fight here.

Dolfo nodded, stood up and hurried over to the stairs.
When he entered the second floor he saw nothing unusual at first, then he saw that the barkeeper sat on some chair while trying to stop his nose from bleeding. Some more people around him were fixing themselves up after what apparently was a brawl.
Once they saw Dolfo their looks turned quite hostile, one of them telling him to leave immediately. Legion pilots weren't welcome any more in this bar.
Dolfo asked where the other pilot went but surprisingly no one really knew.

While Dolfo searched for a new place to spend the night one question passed his mind again and again.
Who is Chacal?!
And why did he have to ruin this good evening?

[Gen]

"Too long a stick is good for you," an old monk was saying, frowning.

"That way was always the second best," his friend replied.

"The memory we used to share welcomes spring," the monk went on. "Another day sees the sun."

"Two plantation owners were murdered by mutants. Crazy stuff, man,".

The monk took a whiff off his joint, nodded and said quite solemnly, "That memory we used to share is omni-present, much like candy."

Llarnas had to agree, because you could not disagree with a man of the cloth without risking your head, or being probed in all the wrong ways in the name of their blue gods.

An hour earlier, he was quite eager to find this Chacal, but his optimism had run out along with the bottle he was holding. He figured he'd take refuge in a bar to reinforce his good spirit, and maybe ask if anybody knows this Chacal.

Nobody did. As time went on, he decided it was more likely that this Chacal was in fact a breed of dog disguised cleverly as a woman.

The monk was spitting at his face some words, but any sense of reason or logic had now completely abandoned Llarnas. Language was becoming harder to understand with each passing moment and all he could do was to concentrate on finishing his drink.

The words were coming out his mouth slurred, "I need... another drink,". And he noticed a new one on the table as soon as he asked.

"Sounds troublesome," the monk said, "you'll be needing plenty of help with your search... I advise we take a sabre, fully loaded. And you'll need a lot of wine, whiskey, vodka, cardamine and a platinum credit chip." he sighed after a pause, "this blows my weekend,".

"Why?"

"Because, naturally, I'm gonna have to come with you. We go to Liberty, and make a stop at Curacao along the way,".