He shook his head at her question, spending a few seconds on a brief inspection of how she seemed to look when smiling before indulging the curiosity. "Why I eat it? I don't, this is the first time I've had one of these in about ten years. I just wanted to have a nostalgia trip, and remind myself what it was like to eat these prepackaged assaults on a healthy diet." Having said this he winced a little, wrapping up what was left of his meal and setting it aside to be disposed of later rather than finished.
"Hasn't aged well. And yes, stuffing your face with this regularly will make you obese and kill your heart. It's the surefire strategy of fat and sugars, addicting to the brain and body. A reliable formula for business." It was a formula she was more than familiar with, given her "unique" status in the sector.
"Why do people do it? And do they not care about their health? I don't honestly know. I think it makes certain people happy to have a temporary moment of comfort with something as simple as food. So much so they're willing to compromise on their health and maybe even their lifespans to feel that way. Because contrary to popular belief, there are certain things that money can buy." It was a pessimistic and potentially even pragmatic outlook on the whole affair, but it was an honest response despite that.
"Ready to go?" She was by no means obligated to finish her meal if she didn't want to, and he smiled knowing that she probably really didn't want to.
At his offer to continue on their way, she just raised her index finger in silent objection as she took another bite of her cheeseburger. Now, however, Fiorella did not bother talking between bites and after a long and silent quarter of an hour, she finally finished her meal.
"It was a meal you invited me to as part of our trip, so it is only polite and natural to finish it."
Again, she had that slight smile on her face as she carefully gathered up all the wrappers from their food and lifted herself off of the mat. With her usual slow steps, she walked to their hoverbike and placed the crumpled wrappers in its saddlebags.
"Positive and negative experiences with this world, Mister Doe. Maybe the strange taste of the local fast food will allow me to remember this trip more clearly in case my parents or grandparents would be wondering about your cuisine."
With those words, she began to place the yellow-flowered helmet on her head and buckle it under her chin. She followed with a final assessment of her exterior and cleaned her clothes of the omnipresent sand.
"Where do we fly to now?"
Despite her aloof demeanor, there was a certain amount of enthusiasm and curiosity about her. She was in a good mood and did not intend to hide it behind an expressionless face.
She was allowed to speak and without any interruption, with him seeming to just listen and watch her while he packed up the mat and secured it on the bike. There was an unreadable expression to his face and a song stuck in his head. It was only after she'd asked him where they were going that he said something. "You look good when you smile." Both intended to serve as compliment, and an invitation to do it more often without asking for it. But it wasn't an answer and that only came once he'd put his helmet back on.
"We'll go to wherever heading in this direction takes us. I'll stop again when we find a nice place to stay." There wasn't a plan, and he genuinely didn't have a set destination in mind. He might have had a rough idea of where this route would go, but it wasn't certain. The whole point was for her to see this planet exactly as it was, and him curating the places they saw didn't do that goal any justice.
Once they had both gotten back on the bike, he looked back at her like he did when they'd started this journey. Wanting to know she was ready before giving the engine any power, a small courtesy that showed consideration for the person behind him.
She checked that her helmet was properly fastened and sat on the back of their motorcycle. She turned her head in his direction and answered him with her careful and methodical speech with her particular accent emphasizing the sonorous pronunciation of vowels.
"You know me, Mister Doe. I am no stranger to smiling - yet it is not something I take lightly. Every smile should have a clear reason and purpose."
When he turned to her and asked if she was ready to go, Fiorella nodded silently and wrapped her left arm around his body. Her right hand, however, remained free, apparently only needing to be held with one hand.
"I think we can go anywhere you want - I am a rich Manhattan celebrity after all. We have enough credits for almost anything, if needed."
The fact her false identity had her listed down as some kind of wealthy celebrity caused him to chuckle for a few seconds before they took off. Outside the city limits he seemed to be much more inclined to dig deep into the power the bike's engine offered, their surroundings blowing by them in a haze of drab beige. "A celebrity, huh? What's a celebrity doing exploring Houston of all places and with some average Joe? And what if the media finds out? Can't be good for any brands you're the ambassador of." His use of the name Joe here was a play on words, mashing the names John and Doe together in a combination that he felt was amusing. For the most part, he was content to play along with her false identity, at least somewhat. She'd stayed in character so far, so it would be rude if he were dismissive or belligerent about it.
Their environment was static for what seemed like a solid twenty minutes, the only variation being uneven terrain and the occasional sight of boulders and mountains looming in the distance. When lights appeared on the horizon, the engine screamed because it was being pushed closer and closer to maximum throttle. Under a darkening sky, the speeding bike was an amber bullet leaving a trail of tossed up sand in its wake. But when those lights became skylines and the dirt became an actual road, one that was dotted with traffic, the howling of the engine eased back into a rumble. It was clear why he liked this bike so much, because the speed it offered was truly a shock to the senses especially on an open plane like the one they'd traversed in record time.
For someone with such a rebellious streak, it was odd to see Morreti come to a perfect stop at a red light, but there it was. A few other vehicles were in the lanes besides, and even behind them, with the majority in the oncoming lane across their current position. It seemed like traffic going out of here was quite high, and intended to ship valuable hardware to Marlton that had a bustling operation carried by forced labor.
A police patrol car pulled in alongside them, having been given right of way some distance prior to the stop. "Nice bike." The passenger-side officer commented, presuming the pair on it to be some rich couple. Morreti's response was a half-hearted nod, with concealed contempt for the uniformed individual issuing the compliment. The light turning green was a relief, because he felt it was an opportunity to leave the lackeys behind. Cleverly, he allowed them to overtake him, figuring they would pull away gradually and turn off at one of the junctions on a routine patrol. Instead they just came to a stop after a few blocks, pulling into an alley and approaching what seemed like a tent.
The smart thing to do would have been to just gun the throttle and mind his own business. It would be less than a second to put this image behind him, but his hand refused to give the engine more power. Those shining badges brought back memories of decrepit people masquerading as pillars of society, and examples for his life to be based upon. With a mild jerk, the bike came to a stop near the pavement instead. "Wait here." Morreti instructed his guest, sounding quite firm and almost authoritative before dismounting gracefully. But there was something malignant about his demeanor here.
He made sure to take it all in, as the two approached the tent and wasted no time getting the next piece of their quota yanked out. Cutting through the fabric as the middle aged man inside pleaded tearfully that they were destroying the only shelter he and his dog had anymore. His four legged companion was afraid, startled from sleep and weak from hunger. But it still protested and barked fiercely. Something that the officers were less than pleased with, kicking what they saw as a mangy nuisance aside. That singular action was perhaps the perfect encapsulation of Liberty's attitude.
It must have dug some finely aged hate to the surface, because what followed was quite unexpected. It was quick, and from the angle de Marco had, she'd see Morreti pull a small laser pistol free from a concealed holster. The first officer who'd cut the tent open never knew what was going to happen, struck twice in the chest and then once more in the back of the head for certainty. It caused his partner to release the "suspect" and turn to face their assailant. He fumbled at his holster, afraid after how quickly the man he'd worked with for years was just put down. Almost like a dog.
Every inch of his hand from the wrist down was soon about as fried as the meat in the sandwich that Morreti hadn't finished. Two more shots went for the man's knees and forced him to kneel whether he intended to or not, grunting and howling in pain pathetically. As a last resort, he tried to speak. "Please, I have-" He wasn't allowed to finish, one more shot sent straight for the throat. Turning the plea into a gurgling mess as the assailant approached and kicked the soon-to-be corpse to the filthy concrete. In about an hour or less, the absence of the patrol unit would be noted. It was enough time to not be here by then. So as if nothing had even happened, Morreti holstered his weapon.
"Go get yourself and your friend a room for the night, and a hot meal. But if you're ever tired of this, use this to come find me." He'd handed this absolute stranger two things, a credit chip with a generous amount still left to its deposit and a small emblem made of particularly cold metal. In shock, the man who was clearly down on his luck couldn't even muster so much as a thanks but he was visibly glad and afraid for the fact this intervention happened. With a brisk pace, he carried his companion away with him, muttering comforting words to it.
Morreti was back on the bike soon after, taking a deep, almost satisfied sigh before continuing their journey.
As the speed increased, she clung tighter to the hoverbike and her companion and watched them fly swiftly across the barren landscape. She was not uncomfortable as she was relatively used to high speeds and maneuvers.
"I do not represent any brand, I am an artistic musician, a darling of high society. And as for this visit - I can always say that I was looking for inspiration for my next compositions in here."
She remained silent for the rest of their journey to the distant settlement. She was focusing on the countryside around her, a vastly different scene than she was used to from Malta. She was just looking around without saying a word, examining all the details around her and maybe imagining how she would draw a view like this on a canvas back home.
It was such a strange feeling for her to suddenly stop at a red light and wait while the police patrol caught up with them. However, following the example of her companion, she only gave them a slight nod of greeting so as not to attract more attention and continued to appear relaxed, though somewhere inside she was beginning to be on alert.
Once their hoverbike was moving again, she kept a close eye on her companion's reactions near the patrol - hopefully to be ready to react if anything happened.
"Hm-?"
She only got out of herself when her companion suddenly stopped, ordered her to wait, and went to settle his dispute with the armed LPI patrol. Her facial expression remained hidden beneath the visor of her helmet and so she just waited to see how her companion, Mister Doe, would resolve the situation. Her questions were eventually answered when she noticed several shots fired from a small laser pistol and both peacekeepers were incapacitated.
As Mister Doe handed over the shiny metal object and the credit chip to the still surprised and somewhat frightened man, Fiorella looked around - perhaps to spot any possible witnesses to the event - but the locals had a very developed instinct for self-preservation and so the street was already deserted shortly after the police patrol arrived. Only from the darkened windows of the half-decayed house could someone have watched them. However, she was interrupted from a more thorough observation by her approaching companion and so she turned her attention to him.
"My estimate is that all of this was symbolic, was it not? But you can explain it to me along the way or at our destination - if there is one, that is."
As she remained sitting on the hoverbike's back seat through his armed encounter with the two patrolmen, she was ready to leave almost immediately. She had not even removed her helmet from her head and her visor was closed.
His response to that was a nod, briefly turning them into an amber blur again until they were a few blocks away, at which point he came back in line with the speed limit imposed on these lanes. As his mind cleared from the sudden onset of adrenaline that violence provided, he was able to discern his exact bearing and even which city this was. He knew where a low profile but still relatively comfortable place was for lodging. It wouldn't be long before it was dark and the night brought with it all kinds of heightened activity and perhaps the increased scrutiny of police investigation, following his stunt.
The place he seemed to be taking them to was well equipped enough to have a separate plot of land assigned for the purpose of parking. An automated barrier disengaged to allow them entrance, and from within this large shelter they'd have to dismount and walk through an entrance that was assigned for that wing of the establishment. Once they'd arrived at the door however, he felt the need to ask and clarify. "Preferences for the type of room?" This was obviously going to be subject to demand, but depending on her level of comfort and perhaps the mood so far, he could either request for a suite that they could share or a more divided accommodation for privacy. Truthfully, it mattered little to him but politeness dictated that he ask and spare any offense.
She lifted the visor of her helmet after their hoverbike stopped and though her eyes were covered by her mirrored glasses, she visibly raised her eyebrows and an amused smirk appeared on her face.
"What kind of accommodations I prefer - well, I like large, airy, spacious and sunny apartments with large windows and a garden or spacious balcony."
She slowly rose from the back seat and, unbuckling the strap under her chin, removed her helmet from her head and placed it on the bike's rack. But before she went to the door to meet her companion, she adjusted her slightly disheveled hair with her fingers.
"But you already know my preferences from our previous discussions, Mister Doe. Although, I do not think we would find anything here in the style of my Manhattan apartment - What are our options in a facility like this? What does accommodation on this planet actually look like?"
Having visited this planet several times now, he was fairly well versed in what accommodations looked like. So while staying here was certainly a step up from the safehouses that the Xenos relied on when operating on the planet, it wouldn't be the case for his "friend" standing beside him. "Varying degrees of rustic that range from decrepit to charming. Best way I can put it. If you're wondering where I'd place this spot on the list, I'd put it closer to charming. The whole aesthetic of faded glory adds a certain something, even if the reason for it is literal stagnation rather than design intent." He didn't point it out, but she'd misunderstood the nature of his question and as a result he resolved to use his best judgement and see what was available.
While they certainly didn't resemble the usual clientele of this place, the old man stationed at the front desk was all too happy to receive the pair. "Welcome to the Crown Dune. How can I be of service?" Despite his age, the individual behind that elegant and hand carved wooden desk was observant and clever. More than any of his young colleagues might have been, his uniform was freshly pressed and his face exuded a comforting expression. "Your finest room for the night, or at least the finest you have available at the moment." This request prompted the old man to glance over at a screen beside him, scrolling through the bookings they already had before glancing between the two guests waiting for a response. "It's been all too long since the Presidential suite saw any use. Stunning view of the administrative sector from the balcony and an intricately designed skylight that you can adjust the settings of. It would certainly fit a man of your caliber, sir. And I'm sure the lady would appreciate you exhibiting such good taste." It was every bit the sort of reply someone would expect from the organizer of a fine establishment, even if this place had seen far better days.
"Perfect. We'll take it." With a nod, the man behind the counter gestured to one of the other staff waiting beside an elevator. The younger man seeming to understand what this meant and immediately calling the elevator for the two recently booked guests. "Excellent choice, sir. Morgan there will show you to your room. If you require anything at all during your stay, please call and I will arrange for it. Please enjoy your time here at the Crown Dune." While relatively unremarkable compared to the options available on the more fortunate colonies in Liberty, this place must have been breathtaking when Houston had actual hope vested in a future.
The short elevator trip was unremarkable, save for the fact they'd reached the top floor so quickly in what appeared to be an aged elevator. A testament to the fact that the staff here were taking good care of the building and maintaining whatever was left. Eventually they were inside the four walls of the room Morreti had just booked for them, the door automatically closing behind them and even locking.
"Not bad." This revealed the fact that Morreti had never been here before, a comment he made while putting the keycard he was given for the door in a cut-glass bowl near the entrance. While not a sprawling room by any means, it was crafted, furnished and arranged with breathing room in mind. The living room had plenty of space around the large L-shaped and cream colored sofa set. Directly past it was the balcony, which spanned the length of this room and had no competitors from any of the other rooms on this floor. Through the large pair of doors on the left was the bedroom, and it boasted the skylight that was mentioned before. It was opened for them already, offering a clear view of the dark sky illuminated somewhat by Abilene, Houston's moon. And while the skies were bleak and spoke of years of intense industrial activity, it was still a view someone could appreciate and not nearly as bad as Pittsburgh. To the right and through an open arch with dull gold frills laid into its borders was a bar with a wall made entirely of glass to offer anyone enjoying a drink there a view.
Even if this wasn't perfect and imperfections were visible at every corner, it was ironically quite close to whatever de Marco had cited as being her preferred form of accommodation. "Want me to call the front desk for anything? Otherwise I'm taking a shower and then seeing what the view is like from out there." He gestured in vaguely the same direction as the bedroom's connected bathroom. In the back of his mind, she was sure she'd like to freshen up as well and was probably going to imply that it would be more polite if he let her go first.
She stepped into the spacious presidential suite and pulled her sunglasses high up in her hair. Her blue eyes, accentuated by her eyeliner and long lashes, glanced around the suite and grinned at her companion in amusement.
"That our nation is full of contrasts is something I have grown accustomed to, but that such a contrast would exist here on this planet - well, I would not have thought of it. On the contrary, I thought of this world as a poor and enslaved prison colony and nothing more, but here something else was planned."
At his question about room service, she just shook her head slightly before adding briefly.
"I will not need anything special since I assume they already have all the basic toiletries here. Although... there is one thing I will need - clean water to drink."
"If you do not mind, Mister Doe, I would like to take a shower first. I do not mind the hot and dry climate here, of course, but I feel rather dusty from our trip."
She looked at him briefly after these words, waiting to see if he had any objections. Once he gave her the go ahead, she entered the bathroom and locked the door behind her. Her shower, including initial bathroom inspection, took her almost half an hour.
She came out of the bathroom wrapped in a white bathing robe with a towel around her long black hair. She carried her folded clothes in her hands and laid them on the sofa in the main room.
"Much better. The bathroom is yours, Mister Doe, we can continue our conversation later."
She gave her companion a slight and polite smile, letting him know by her expression and body language that she would wait for him without any issues.
Once he was out of sight and locked in the bathroom, she stood up from the sofa and prepared a glass of icy water for her before returning to the large window to have a good look on the outside.
