The Hunt (Striker)

    In his blinding haze of hurt and exhaustion, Dion failed to recognize the ridiculously large power signature slowly converging on his position. Not that it mattered all that much anyways, it wasn't like he could make a getaway even if he wanted to in the shape that he was in, but if he had to face death Dion would have at least liked a forewarning.

    But no, it was not the grim reaper that now commanded his attention toward them. Or at least, Dion was pretty sure it wasn't, considering he had never heard of an iteration of it being a... hedgehog?

    Watching the ball of green and gall make their way toward the feet of Dion's laying figure, the young man stared upwards at the curious being with an even more confused stare back at them. Clearly, this thing, er, person wasn't one of the horrific eldritch horrors he expected to find this deep into the ruined metropolis. Although her energy most definitely fit the bill for the "horror" part- the reading his inner radar was getting was utterly inconceivable. 

    Still, the panic subsided slightly, as confusion began to take precedence in his tired, but still conscientious mind. Forcing himself to a sitting position with a grunt of effort, Dion panted a bit, staring still at the young woman as his head tilted in continued fascination. Konatsians didn't look like this, did they? Kabe didn't mention any resemblance to Earthly creatures, so he supposed she couldn't be a native. 

    Not that any native would have the type of firepower this person had on them anyways. Rubbing his eyes to ensure he wasn't hallucinating out of pure exhaustion, Dion blinked a few times, readjusting his glasses as he managed to croak out a response to the question asked prior, saying, "I-I mean, I'm alive, so I s-suppose that's a start, right?"
    
    He'd laugh openly if it didn't cause him so much pain to do so. Instead, the Saiyan attempted to pick himself up to his feet again, staggering back down to sit on one knee bent as his body failed to carry its own weight. Looking around cautiously, making sure it was only the two of them, Dion asked Striker, "S-say, you wouldn't know how far Fruco Harbor is from here, do you? N-not that I intend on going there, b-but I've gotta get back to some people, and that's the only major landmark I remember being near our camp..."

    Dion kept the details purposefully vague- even weakened he wasn't an idiot, and knew not to trust every somewhat friendly face that came up to him in every wrecked city he found himself in. He was still partially truthful though, he really did have no plans to return to exactly where he had made the effort to run away from, but it was the only place simultaneously that he knew acted as a good measuring stick as to where he and Kabe's ship and crew were camped at by comparison.
    
    Hopefully, this weird, Earthly looking person would be able to tell him what he needed to go so he could be on his way.

    Deep down though, Dion could somewhat feel that it was going to be a lot more complicated than that.
    
PL: 45,000 - WC: 543 - TWC: 1013


    "Between the beatings I've taken and the beasts I've seen, I think I'll take the beasts over the beating in this case," came the contrarian reply from the battered bartender as he managed to shakily get himself to his feet with Striker's help, clutching at his right side as he winced in pain. Internal bleeding? Maybe. Bruised or broken ribs? Probably. Either way, his body was pretty banged up- and the burning blood that coarsed through his veins did little to improve his perilous predicament.

    At the very least the company he was keeping didn't seem out to make his matters any worse. While the greenette did come off as a little snarky, who wasn't at this point in the cosmos? It was rare to ever find anyone not a little jaded, and considering the nature of the lives most of them led, Dion supposed it was only natural to find a way to cope.

    In light of Striker's surprise at finding someone who wasn't some sort of otherworldly, eldritch abomination, Dion's blood appeared to singe a bit in response- the youth shuddering in discomfort from the sudden shift within his veins as he replied in a grateful voice, "Trust me, being reduced to a pile of limbs still might've been preferable to the alternative that I was put face to face with... Or maybe it wouldn't be? Doesn't matter anyways..."
    
    Rolling his shoulders a bit in a futile attempt to work out the creaks he felt growing inbetween the blades, Dion raised a single eyebrow at the woman's apparent call-sign. The Green Nova? While he wasn't really one to judge, seeing as his 'codename' was 'Wonderboy' of all things, the Saiyan wasn't aware of any body of work that required such a nickname besides professional wrestling. And seeing as that was mostly localized to Earth, his curiosity behind the nickname's origin was safely piqued.

    Shooting Striker a small salute, Dion nodded his thanks, saying in a polite albeit weakened tone, "I appreciate the helping hand, Ms. Nova. Heckuva nickname you've got going for you- you part of a band or something?"

    Waving a dismissive hand, the enfeeble fighter still seemed determined to stand on his own two feet. Moving, Dion took about two steps before falling to his knees again in a heap, an angered grunt now sounding from him as he looked back toward Striker with a sheepish expression on his face.

    "Carry? No. But, uh, a little help would go a long way, eheh."   
    
PL: 45,000 - WC: 424 - TWC: 1437


    Honestly, Dion didn't really know what she looked like to him. Initially, the Saiyan believed Striker to be some sort of hedgehog type lab experiment gone awol- similar to the type of origin the self-proclaimed Tuffle Zoki belonged to back on Plant a million space-miles away. But, upon closer inspection, Striker was much too intelligent to be just some escaped lab rat, and much too different to the hedgehogs he was used to seeing back home to actually be one. 
    
    The Saiyan found it all fascinating, really, just how little he actually knew of the cosmos in its entirety. It was as though every day brought a new person from a foreign species he knew next to nothing about. Nervan, Zoki, Salvo, and now Striker- it was like a menagerie of new massively different species and races was opened up to him in the span of a week or two.

    He wondered exactly what the race Striker came from classified as, but he was sure the question would be answered sometime soon- after all, it wasn't like he was planning on paying their people a visit anytime in the near future, no need to go poking around what could be very sensitive territory.

    Instead, Dion gave the young woman a harmless shrug, saying in an indifferent tone to the obviously sarcastic reply she gave when questioned about the nature of her nickname, "To be honest, I didn't think democracy could live while the rest of its constituents appear to have died to, whatever the hell this, eldritch abomination of a plagued city is. Do you guys still do public shows? Or do those get crashed by whatever unholy creature the big hole in the sky brings in on any given day?"

    Curiosity continuing to grow at the nature of her actual work, Dion worriedly patted down his pockets- a relieved sigh leaving his lips as he found his person still in possession of the emergency funds Kabe gave him in case he was in need of purchasing something besides what was listed to him to look for. Knowing this, Dion nodded understandingly at the greenette, stating simply as he stood up once more on shaky legs, "I get it, gotta make a living somehow, right? Weird place to try and do it though, if you don't mind me saying..."

    "... Speaking of which, you said Novas, plural- there're more of you out here? Why? This planet seems pretty, er, mean, from what I've been able to glean."

PL: 45,000 - WC: 423 - TWC: 1860


    Dion had to work to resist the sarcastically-driven snort that threatened to explode right out of his lips. No, really, what gave his foreign tourist-nature away, exactly? The clothes (or lack-there-of, considering they were akin to rags at this point) that were left on his back, or the particular means of articulation he had rolling off of his tongue? Shaking his head a bit, the Saiyan forced the want to reply snarkily in return down below as he recalled who was giving who a hand in this situation- as well as the glaring power gap between the two. The last thing Dion wanted to do was piss off the person able to wipe him out with a simple, offhand sneeze.

    So, instead, Dion shut his big mouth, and listened intently to what Striker had to say about her and her crew's chosen place to call home. Honestly, while it sounded like a ton of work, the Saiyan had to respect the grit the group must have had if they were still determined to reclaim and salvage what was left of this planet in spite of a great deal of it being ravaged by magical malignancy. He wondered what their group would do in regards to the less-than-friendly stragglers such as Salvo, but, he supposed that would be a problem they handled when they got to it.

    For now, Dion guessed that it was enough for them to try and cleanse the planet first, and after swatting at the finger that now poked at his still tender stomach, the Saiyan said, "Sounds like you lot have got a decent amount stacked on your plates- I wish you luck with the whole, scar removal bit. I've had my fill of magic, so, I hope you guys don't have too much trouble with it."

    While he appreciated the offer, and also respected the need to shamelessly self-plug, Dion didn't think he needed any group of bodyguards any time soon. After all, with the former Queen of the Saiyans and a legendary bounty hunter in his literal contacts list, who else was really needed? Still, that didn't mean he didn't think of their potential skill any less. 

    Though, one detail seemed to stick out like a sore thumb to him. Head tilting in an inquisitive manner, Dion asked in a cautious tone as he folded his arms together, saying, "So, you said you were Green, then there's this Blue person- what about the rest of your gang? If you don't mind giving me a rundown, of course."
    
PL: 45,000 - WC: 430 - TWC: 2290


    Feeling more and more like an invalid the longer the conversation went, Dion stayed directly in tow behind Striker as the Tenric guided him through the various backalleys and passageways of the once great Konatsian municipality. The journey somewhat reminding him of many similar ones he had taken in his childhood back on Plant when navigating through the bustle and hustle of their still intact capital city. A small crackle of magically powered Ki skirting across his forehead, Dion winced at the comedically timed bit of lightning, wiping his brow of the sweat the grew from maintaining their quickened pace as he replied, "Yeah, me neither- but I have more experience with it than I'd like to admit."

    "It sounds like you've got quite a lot of people looking to enter your ranks," replied the Saiyan as his eyes darted back and forth from darkened corner to darkened corner, as though expecting Salvo or something to pop out and mug him right then an dthere. "It'll be, interesting, to have a group of individuals such as yourselves making their own way throughout the cosmos. Don't think I've ever heard of no official soldier-of-fortune group such as yourselves- at least, not one that's entirely very legal, anyways."

    Did Dion actually believe their activities were going to be mostly legal? Of course not. But he liked to give people the benefit of the doubt. Even if one of their members may or may not have kicked the shit out of him directly following the senseless slaughter and pilfering of innocent strangers.

    Looking unblinkedly straight ahead, Dion nodded to Tenrec, feeling comfortable enough to spill at least some of the beans as he said, "A little bit of ship issues is all. Think it had something to do with the propulsion systems going awry mid-launch, and those problems not rearing their ugly heads until much later into the journey. Had to make an emergency crash landing down here."

    "I've got faith in my crew though, they're a bunch of smartly brained individuals- wouldn't trust them by their lonesome if I didn't, haha."

    He wondered if Striker would buy him being the captain of his own motley crew of space pirates.

    Probably not. But Dion wasn't sure if Kabe would want his name coming out of his mouth to just any random local he came face to face with, so he thought he'd at least try to respect such unspoken wishes.

    "What about you though? I assume you aren't from around here either, right? What brought you to Konats?"
    
PL: 45,000 - WC: 432 - TWC: 2722