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    Post by hosriuscamnus 5th January 2021, 7:38 pm

    Hosrius Camnus "The Dark Angel"
    Job Log #9747

    Earthland was way behind in its technological advancement and that fact was going to cost Hosrius a lot of man hours. While he was completely accustomed to cleaning and tinkering with his weapons and ship, he generally liked to avoid doing so in exchange for the opportunity to scout out more information from the locals. He had a target that was hiding out on this planet and, as such, that meant that simply hoping to run into him would amount to nothing. For a brief moment in time, the Jirian had considered the slow pace of his hunt a benefit. It would give him a chance to learn more about the customs of the world and the strange presence of the ‘magic’ that was bountiful. There was no time limit on when he could bring a bounty in, after all -- it was just required that he did so or else he paid a heavy price.

    But now that Grubar was here, things were complicated. His friend would run into more roadblocks than Hosrius, being the gruff and scary alien that he was. The Jirian had done some research and discovered that aliens were not a common understanding and belief in the world. There were some morphed variants of the ruling sapient species but overall, it seemed that most intelligent creatures were all similar. And while Hosrius had, as well, gotten some strange looks, his mannerisms had earned him consideration and communication. Grubar, for the powerful and strategic bounty hunter that he was, looked like a giant lizard and that was likely to give people pause, if not his brash attitude. No, he imagined that Grubar would make even less progress than him but any kind of progress was still detrimental.

    After his run in with the spirits during Christmas, Hosrius understood that he had to be better prepared. His weapon was useful as a sniper rifle consistently but the pistol variant was slow charging. If he was going to face such strange and unusual odds, he would need to make some adjustments to its core. As explicitly stated before, usually he would leave this to a paid professional so that he could go about his own business. But upon venturing into the market of the Neutral Grounds, all he found was failure. The mechanics looked at him as if he had three heads, explaining that they had no idea what to do with the weapon. They were all too happy to look at it, even offering to buy it from him. But Hosrius imagined that was with the intent of reselling it to a corporation for a far more exuberant price, exploiting the Jirian for their own gain. He gently turned down their offers and instead sought out tools that he could use, which was an adventure in its own right. Earthland possessed the tools but they were rudimentary, far below the level that he was used to working with. Little did he know that images of his weapon were already being loaded on the Lacnet in hopes of securing an interested party to round up the weapon itself.

    That explained the tail he had picked up near the end of the day. Hosrius had managed to find a local job board shortly after Christmas. It advertised dangerous objectives so that people that were not aligned to a ‘guild’ could earn the local currency called jewel. Though he didn’t claim to be any kind of ‘mage’ as the magic users were called, he was exceptionally prepared to hunt down anything to earn a wage. He’d made himself a decent amount of jewel and used it to purchase supplies. But by the third store, he had spotted the same few figures out of the corner of his eye. He sighed. “Greed is abundant wherever you go,” he mumbled.

    “What was that sir?” The checkout lady asked, looking up at him with wonder. It seemed she quite enjoyed the sight of Hosrius.

    He gave her a smile. “Nothing, madam. Thank you for everything and have a pleasant day.” He pulled up his bags into his arms and departed from the store, his tail following shortly after.

    The Jirian acted none the wiser, walking along his merry way and heading down the street. At an impasse between street and alley, the Jirian turned and headed down the slim path, moving into the shadowed area between buildings. The thugs came around the corner and watched him for a moment before they nodded, deciding. This would be where they jumped him -- away from prying eyes. Besides, he was just a freak; no one was going to miss him. Pulling out daggers they followed after, now picking up speed as Hosrius rounded the corner deeper into the ravine of structures.

    When the brigands came around, ready to break into a sprint, all they found was… the bags of supplies sitting on the ground. “You know, it’s rude to stalk,” Hosrius said from behind them, having leapt up onto the side of the building and grabbed onto a railing. With his leg strength, a two story jump straight up was nothing. After the men had rounded the corner, he leapt down behind them. His arm panel ignited, the orange glow swirling over both of his arms and forming energy tonfas. As the men spun around, Hosrius struck the first pair, slamming the blunt ends against their stomachs, chests and faces. They stumbled back, even as the third rushed in with a wild stab. Hosrius blocked it to the side, shifting his weight and his feet so that he carried the arm forward and took the man off balance. A quick sweep of the leg followed to drop the man on his face, the Jirian slamming one of his tonfas into the soft space on his neck to temporarily knock him out.

    The other two had recovered, now charging with their knives. Hosrius blocked one stab and carried the arm down so that the blade stabbed into the other’s knee. A pained cry escaped the impaled man, even as Hosrius spun the tonfas around and punched them both into the third man’s stomach, rending him from consciousness. He then brought both tonfas up and around to crack the screaming man’s temples, depositing him into darkness along with his friends. With the brigands handled, Hosrius sighed and deactivated the arm panel, the tonfas disappearing from his wrists. “Don’t worry, you’ll wake up soon enough. And the last thing I need is bodies painting a target on me.” He scooped up his bags and continued down the alleyway, already planning out what he wanted to make for dinner.

    TAG: @name WORDS: 1108 000 NOTES: bleh

    MEL @ WW


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      Current date/time is 13th May 2021, 8:33 am