Watching the Drawings and Talking to Demons..! Wait. (Open)

Well, this had been going on for long enough. She was here with that cheery persona she used sometimes to get in, figure out who was in attendance and then get out. Now that she had 100% gotten all of the data she required to begin looking through, she could cut away that character she was playing and get to do what she was on Earth to do.

She reached into her bag for her scouter, not connected to any networks or any of the rest of her technology, and placed it over her eye. Certainly, there were scouters sold on Earth, but they were rather rare, and of rather more basic a model compared to her own, firmly placing her as an alien of some sort. ”Oh, there is a second reason, too!” She looked to the Namekian she still didn’t know the name of, this in reference to the question from much earlier when she was asked what brought her to Earth and the Tournament but spurred by the far more recent question about being there to fight and Erbia’s ‘recruitment drive’ comment. While similar to before, there was a new edge, only slight, bringing in an element of decisive confidence. The confidence of an adult or a public figure.

”I am a tuffle,” though she imagined those around who were familiar with ‘alien species’ would have already figured that out, ”from Plant, here for the Budokai to seek morally-driven and powerful warriors to recruit in preventing the Vegetans from committing genocide on us.” She looked to the various aliens around, including the Namekian and that definitely-an-alien red guy. ”I know you’re powerful,” and now she knew who was how powerful, thanks to the scouter on her head, ”so, I ask, are you moral enough people to help an innocent people against their invaders?”

Dang, the Namekian only had 500PL? Wow, she figured it would be wayyyyy bigg— 25,000PL! ... Oh. She did not visibly react, but she was certainly surprised.

Well, let’s see, let’s gauge some reactions and make some predictions:

Erbia was here to fight, and had some support. The vibes she got from him and his group didn’t scream ‘helpful’... but, then again, he was a Heran, and no self-respecting Heran would ever pass up the opportunity to prove themselves against saiyans, and this was perhaps the best possible opportunity for such a thing. Rassica was… an Earthling, a saiyan? If she was a Vegetan, as many saiyans were, she’d have reason to be opposed to such a thing. And the Broljin, Cheri suspected she'd go wherever the other two were.

The Namekian, she wasn’t sure. Namekians were generally trustworthy, from personal experience, and could be trusted to be ethically considerate, so she was hopeful in that regard. She was hoping it was just her learned tendency to be suspicious, but he had said some slightly suspicious things earlier.

And, lastly, the alien alien who was an alien (who was an alien)... well, no idea there. He had an air of mysteriousness, as if his power signature could evade her scouter’s detection at a moment’s notice. He seemed quite integrated into Earthling culture, and Earthling culture generally taught to help those in need, but he also seemed to be a business owner. She didn't know if he would put aside his estate for something like this.

So perhaps she wasn’t entirely hopeful about getting help from this lot but, well, she was here with a few participants, why not give it a go?

Oh, huh. Just like Cheri had gone to Earth to find warriors to assist on Plant, and Azoth had gone to Earth to find warriors to assist on Arcose, it seemed that Shakuhachi (again, not to imply that she knew his name) had gone to Earth to find warriors to assist on Namek. Cheri admitted that she wasn’t all that familiar with the political goings on of Namek but, as far as she could tell, everything had been peaceful there. Were there new developments, or was this some sort of powergrab Shakuhachi was attempting? Cheri could not be sure, she still did not know if the Namekian was unironically just naive, or deceptive in his manner.

The way he presented it, ‘multiple tribes’ who didn’t always ‘get along’, it sounded like he saw the tribes as fully capable of peace and that whichever issues they had could have been addressed and solved diplomatically. Why, she wondered, would foreign Earth allies intervening be of use in a situation like that? So, either he was just being overly polite about his enemies, or there was a whole lot more to this than met the eye. He at least seemed to be accustomed to a martial set given the topic of his questions… but mustn’t have been especially experienced in them, given the questions themselves.

”Not a truce; truces only hold power for a set amount of time. It was a ceasefire made out of collective convenience, a convenience soon at its end.” Erbia wasn’t too far from the truth, especially about the Vegetan attitude to peace. The war was soon to resume in full, that much was inevitable. But even the comparative ‘ceasefire’ Plant had been ‘enjoying’ was still strife with conflict and battle, as Cheri had seen first-hand. ”Our forces are technologically and strategically advanced but, in a direct confrontation, do not fare well against Oozaru.” Of course, with the use of destron, it would have been a whole lot easier to take them down… but, not only was that ethically abhorrent, but it would kill the planet and nullify any eventual possible victory. ”Without intervention, a true victory is unlikely to the point of inconsideration. The two main eventualities would either be the Vegetans successfully erasing the tuffles from Plant or, as before, we would hang on unproductively.” The war had been going on for decades, and could go on for decades more given the opportunity. She answered truthfully and quickly, as if she’d answered these questions many many times before (and she had).

The Heran declined her offer. While she was not sure he would decline it, she knew that, if he did decline it, it would be for precisely that reason. ”Fair enough.” If he was a mercenary, he wouldn’t get much in the way of work with a code like that given that, ultimately, it was all politics in the end… but, she suspected, he wasn’t really a mercenary at all. And, yet, he seemed to be able to go against his code for so small a reason as who was technically doing the hiring, and it seemed he was a mercenary after all? Well, OK, she could look beyond the dissonance if it meant good work got done well. ”Hmm.” She feigned unsure consideration. ”I can do something like that.” She had some money spare for a situation like this; it was all her money, of course, for even despite her relatively low pay she spent even less of it. ”And I can pay quite a bit for it, so long as you’re directing your efforts to the Vegetans.”

Cheri would send some documentation and banking information to Erbia’s scouter to prove that she had the dosh. Entirely secure, of course.

And, lastly, Alastair the alien. He had quite the Power Level, and yet, instead of zeni, he asked for… well, she wasn’t entirely sure, but it seemed rather mystical and incoherent from the mundane perspective. ”... Oh? I assume you don’t mean zeni? Something significant to me, or…?”

Keep in mind that Cheri, being an IC character, has no way of knowing of the OOC mechanical transformation progressions of tuffles and saiyans.

‘Shakuhachi’, ‘Shakuhachi’! Finally, a name to the face.

How successful had she been? ”Quite.” Oh, yes ‘quite’, how very informative of you, Cheri. ”Remarkably, actually.” And, with some freedom of liquid time, far more successfully than Cheri had ever anticipated. ”It borders on the ridiculous, how many morally-driven and powerful warriors this planet holds.”

Oho, a saiyan going Oozaru in such a confined space? Yes, Cheri could imagine such a scenario playing out, and could see the humour there. She smiled at the joke, which lessened imperceptibly at the mention of zenkai. She’d dealt with that far too much, both recently and in decades past; yet another dishonourable means of cheating yourself unearned power.

... eh? When Erbia described a tuffle who had tried to hire him, and had apparently earned being called a ‘twat’, Cheri figured he was talking about Yangcong, as he’d previously in two other known cases made a habit of talking to warriors Cheri would later talk to but not being all that convincing about it. But… ‘Black Hearth’? That wasn’t a tuffle name, not remotely. Cheri was visibly, and legitimately, unsure of what that was supposed to mean. ”I’ve never heard of this ‘Black Hearth’. I can assure you, they have no associations with the tuffles proper.” And what the hell did ‘former tuffle’ mean? Was he upgraded into a cyborg? Corrupted into a demon, or vampire? Metamorphosed into a bio-android? The options were endless. Possibly it was some long-discontinued science project brought to Earth for storage and that broke out by mistake, but there was no way of knowing.

And, lastly, the alien, who spoke strangely, as if they were new to the world, or just supremely naïve. He spoke of ends and means, but not as they truly were, but as ‘outcomes’ and ‘steps’— she didn’t show it, of course, but she didn’t much appreciate the patronising tone of it. He spoke of a bargain as if he’d set up a bargain and, tellingly, spoke of the current predicament as if a matter of business. Was he, too, a mercenary? Or, like Qarinah, a demon?.. Oh. ”Ah,” she said in realisation, smiling lightly, ”you’re a demon, aren’t you?” Yes, that made sense.

”Well, let’s just say, if a group refused to pay a large group of mercenaries, the mercenaries generally wouldn’t be too keen.” History was full of examples of disgruntled mercenaries working against their once-hirers; Cheri had no reason to disgruntle them so. ”We have the pay to spare. That’s the advantage of the whole galaxy wanting your tech; the trade is remarkably profitable. If, indeed, one desires the pay.” For the aforementioned warriors, they were brought in by the motivation to save the day, protect the innocent, etc.