Solstis
Jul 29, 2005, 02:55 PM
Log 1: The Necessary Introduction.
A short, blond haired, grey eyed young man strode up to the Guild Counter, his face beaming with confidence. Far from any ordinary confidence, this surety was the sort that televangelists use to brainwash the masses.
Though Cyrus Merks had yet to brainwash anyone, it was on his mental checklist of things to do before he died. Then again, nearly every event possible was on this list, and he could never recall an action more than once.
Fortunately for Cyrus, he had randomly remembered to renew his Hunter's License during his daily shopping trip for things that explode. Far from adept with weapons, Cyrus preferred to use explosives because they required little more than a basic understanding of how to push a button. He rarely purchased the somewhat less common two button combination, which came in several trendy models, and he rarely spared a glance for the three button grenades. Cyrus believed that with the increasing popularity of the explosive projectile, the true meaning of the weapons was being diluted. He was, of course, completely wrong, but he had yet to die, and used that information as proving his convictions.
Striding up to the desk with an unsurprisingly insignificant amount of difficulty, Cyrus leaned on the metallic counter and winked at the Guild secretary. She attempted to give him a piercing glare, but only managed one that amounted to a polite tap on the shoulder. Cyrus felt a sudden urge to turn around, but ignored it, assuming that the children were up to their pranks again. The man had recently watched a documentary focusing on a band of children that tricked unwary hunters in the Slums of Pioneer 2. Though it was an outdated documentary, considering that the Slums no longer existed, as a particularly irate android named Alpha 360 had destroyed them (purportedly on accident), it was regarded as being very informative.
"I've come to renew Guild ID number..." Cyrus pulled a crumpled piece of paper out of his pocket and furiously attempted to unravel it. In a positively ordinary and annoying coincidence, he remembered his identification just as the numbers on the scrap were legible.
"...867 - 5309."
The woman scrunched her face to more accurately depict her annoyance at the mere thought of working, and then proceeded to punch the numbers into a keypad under the counter with menacing strength. This was not a particularly happy day for the desk clerk, as she had just turned in her 2 week notice. Now, this is not traditionally a source of great strain, but her manager had laughed when he received her angrily typed memorandum. Apparently, he had planned on firing her in 2 weeks anyway.
"Your membership to the Guild has been revoked due to alleged... 'Crimes Against Humanity.'"
Cyrus balked and found himself capable of a suitable response.
"Mwaaallr?"
Was the best that he could do. The desk clerk shrugged her shoulders and began reading off of an electronic list.
"You apparently destroyed a bacteria sample's container. It was then released, and 30 of the lab's scientists died before the outbreak could be contained. Then there came the resulting zombies."
Cyrus's entire body twitched. He made a mental note to get that checked.
"Zombies?"
Cyrus Merks had, two weeks prior, had been offered a high paying contract to steal a biological weapon from a laboratory on Ragol's surface. Though he thought it to be a particularly dangerous sounding assignment at the time, Cyrus considered the potential award to far outweigh the risks.
Coffee.
All food on the Pioneer 2 was synthesized using soy, dust, and surplus building materials. The resulting products tasted somewhat like traditional foods, but only with quite a bit of imagination. Though physically young, Cyrus was actually an immortal, owing to an adventure that he no longer recalled.
His immortality is, in fact, why he had not yet died due to his faulty grenades. Technically, if one of Cyrus's devices had detonated in his hand, he would have experienced a great pain and lost a limb or two. Fortunately for him, he appeared to be blessed with a divine luck that prevented such incidences. In actuality, Fate had rigged Cyrus's entire life to a certain point in time, thus mitigating any deadly situations.
Only two other beings in the history of the current Universe have ever been puppets of fate, and they both came to rather grisly ends.
The Guild woman tapped her fingers apprehensively on the counter. Her agitation was not only due to the fact that she hated Hunters, but also that the counter itself bothered her. The Hunters Guild could afford to purchase lanconium counters, but not pay its workers a decent salary. Lanconium is an absurdly rare metal, though some theorize that the Lanconium mining industry is lying, and happen to be sitting on a massive storage of the metal somewhere. Others theorize that the former theorists are crackpots, and that Lanconium only comes from a legendary planet that no longer exists.
Nothing that Cyrus did in-between the conversation with the Guild woman and entering the transporter was particularly interesting. A government official did choke on a half dissolved mint after spotting Cyrus, but was somewhat fortunate to encounter an android that squeezed the offending candy out of him. The man was later hospitalized for 3 broken ribs and a bruised left femur.
<font size=-1>[ This Message was edited by: Solstis on 2005-08-13 12:54 ]</font>
A short, blond haired, grey eyed young man strode up to the Guild Counter, his face beaming with confidence. Far from any ordinary confidence, this surety was the sort that televangelists use to brainwash the masses.
Though Cyrus Merks had yet to brainwash anyone, it was on his mental checklist of things to do before he died. Then again, nearly every event possible was on this list, and he could never recall an action more than once.
Fortunately for Cyrus, he had randomly remembered to renew his Hunter's License during his daily shopping trip for things that explode. Far from adept with weapons, Cyrus preferred to use explosives because they required little more than a basic understanding of how to push a button. He rarely purchased the somewhat less common two button combination, which came in several trendy models, and he rarely spared a glance for the three button grenades. Cyrus believed that with the increasing popularity of the explosive projectile, the true meaning of the weapons was being diluted. He was, of course, completely wrong, but he had yet to die, and used that information as proving his convictions.
Striding up to the desk with an unsurprisingly insignificant amount of difficulty, Cyrus leaned on the metallic counter and winked at the Guild secretary. She attempted to give him a piercing glare, but only managed one that amounted to a polite tap on the shoulder. Cyrus felt a sudden urge to turn around, but ignored it, assuming that the children were up to their pranks again. The man had recently watched a documentary focusing on a band of children that tricked unwary hunters in the Slums of Pioneer 2. Though it was an outdated documentary, considering that the Slums no longer existed, as a particularly irate android named Alpha 360 had destroyed them (purportedly on accident), it was regarded as being very informative.
"I've come to renew Guild ID number..." Cyrus pulled a crumpled piece of paper out of his pocket and furiously attempted to unravel it. In a positively ordinary and annoying coincidence, he remembered his identification just as the numbers on the scrap were legible.
"...867 - 5309."
The woman scrunched her face to more accurately depict her annoyance at the mere thought of working, and then proceeded to punch the numbers into a keypad under the counter with menacing strength. This was not a particularly happy day for the desk clerk, as she had just turned in her 2 week notice. Now, this is not traditionally a source of great strain, but her manager had laughed when he received her angrily typed memorandum. Apparently, he had planned on firing her in 2 weeks anyway.
"Your membership to the Guild has been revoked due to alleged... 'Crimes Against Humanity.'"
Cyrus balked and found himself capable of a suitable response.
"Mwaaallr?"
Was the best that he could do. The desk clerk shrugged her shoulders and began reading off of an electronic list.
"You apparently destroyed a bacteria sample's container. It was then released, and 30 of the lab's scientists died before the outbreak could be contained. Then there came the resulting zombies."
Cyrus's entire body twitched. He made a mental note to get that checked.
"Zombies?"
Cyrus Merks had, two weeks prior, had been offered a high paying contract to steal a biological weapon from a laboratory on Ragol's surface. Though he thought it to be a particularly dangerous sounding assignment at the time, Cyrus considered the potential award to far outweigh the risks.
Coffee.
All food on the Pioneer 2 was synthesized using soy, dust, and surplus building materials. The resulting products tasted somewhat like traditional foods, but only with quite a bit of imagination. Though physically young, Cyrus was actually an immortal, owing to an adventure that he no longer recalled.
His immortality is, in fact, why he had not yet died due to his faulty grenades. Technically, if one of Cyrus's devices had detonated in his hand, he would have experienced a great pain and lost a limb or two. Fortunately for him, he appeared to be blessed with a divine luck that prevented such incidences. In actuality, Fate had rigged Cyrus's entire life to a certain point in time, thus mitigating any deadly situations.
Only two other beings in the history of the current Universe have ever been puppets of fate, and they both came to rather grisly ends.
The Guild woman tapped her fingers apprehensively on the counter. Her agitation was not only due to the fact that she hated Hunters, but also that the counter itself bothered her. The Hunters Guild could afford to purchase lanconium counters, but not pay its workers a decent salary. Lanconium is an absurdly rare metal, though some theorize that the Lanconium mining industry is lying, and happen to be sitting on a massive storage of the metal somewhere. Others theorize that the former theorists are crackpots, and that Lanconium only comes from a legendary planet that no longer exists.
Nothing that Cyrus did in-between the conversation with the Guild woman and entering the transporter was particularly interesting. A government official did choke on a half dissolved mint after spotting Cyrus, but was somewhat fortunate to encounter an android that squeezed the offending candy out of him. The man was later hospitalized for 3 broken ribs and a bruised left femur.
<font size=-1>[ This Message was edited by: Solstis on 2005-08-13 12:54 ]</font>