Post by Parker Bomba on Mar 18, 2021 18:28:17 GMT -5
Parker knew he would never get used to the cold on Arcose. The plummeting temperatures and bitter windchill ate away at you, made it easy to lose hope. With each passing breeze it felt like you were being shredded, layer by layer, until you would be nothing but raw nerve endings and spite. Maybe that was why the Arcosians were the way they were – living on a world like this would make a monster of anyone, surely.
He pulled his scarf – the old man’s scarf – a little tighter around his neck as he approached the spaceport from what felt like the least conspicuous angle. He needed to get inside without being recognized, find someone with a ship for sale, or willing to stow him away, or even just a ship to hide on. He had to get off this blighted rock, and he didn’t care where he ended up because it had to be better than Arcose. It had to be better than the cold and the wind and the constant threat of vipers biting at your heels.
There was also the matter of the fact that he’d stolen from the Arcosian government and assaulted several law enforcement officers. He hadn’t thought about it, but he figured this whole thing might make him a terrorist, at least in the eyes of this particular world. He hadn’t envisioned that for himself, but he had to admit that it didn’t really bother him. To be considered a villain by villains…surely placed him on the right side of things.
He grabbed at his left wrist, where he’d put on the strange device he’d stolen, the Polar Vortechanger. He hadn’t been able to get it off ever since that first night. It was as if using it, transforming with it, had bound it to him in some way. He wondered if that was a feature or a bug. It was just a prototype after all, a prototype he knew very little about. He wasn’t a trained scientist. He was more like a really clever janitor. Like a janitor that had a knack for numbers.
He slowed as he got closer to the spaceport, and took a moment to look around. Something didn’t feel right. Like something was coming. He needed to get moving.
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Parker's PL - 5,000
He pulled his scarf – the old man’s scarf – a little tighter around his neck as he approached the spaceport from what felt like the least conspicuous angle. He needed to get inside without being recognized, find someone with a ship for sale, or willing to stow him away, or even just a ship to hide on. He had to get off this blighted rock, and he didn’t care where he ended up because it had to be better than Arcose. It had to be better than the cold and the wind and the constant threat of vipers biting at your heels.
There was also the matter of the fact that he’d stolen from the Arcosian government and assaulted several law enforcement officers. He hadn’t thought about it, but he figured this whole thing might make him a terrorist, at least in the eyes of this particular world. He hadn’t envisioned that for himself, but he had to admit that it didn’t really bother him. To be considered a villain by villains…surely placed him on the right side of things.
He grabbed at his left wrist, where he’d put on the strange device he’d stolen, the Polar Vortechanger. He hadn’t been able to get it off ever since that first night. It was as if using it, transforming with it, had bound it to him in some way. He wondered if that was a feature or a bug. It was just a prototype after all, a prototype he knew very little about. He wasn’t a trained scientist. He was more like a really clever janitor. Like a janitor that had a knack for numbers.
He slowed as he got closer to the spaceport, and took a moment to look around. Something didn’t feel right. Like something was coming. He needed to get moving.
______________________________________
Parker's PL - 5,000