Scene #963: Grace intro

Owner	Pose
Perfect Grace	Above Afterus, A light blue, almost white, point of light appeared. A burst of radiation which dissipated harmlessly into the upper atmosphere as the dot began to expand into something resembling a whirlpool of light... One that was oddly 2 dimensional. It was as if a hole had been opened up in reality, and from one side of it came a ship about the size of a super-market. The other side of the portal appeared as featureless and empty as the void itself, and in fact, viewing this event from behind would make it seem like the ship was materializing from nothing, as the portal could not even be seen from that angle. Once the Vielar was through, another burst of radiation announced the portal popping shut with a string of light, as though space were rubber forcing itself back into shape. Another burst of radiation approached, this one, however, a frequency of communication. Radio, not very advanced, but it was easily picked up by just about anything. "This is Lieutenant Perfect Grace of the Vielar. Do you read, Afterus? Nice to see a planet again. I'm from another sector, coming to introduce myself. Do I have permission to land?"
Arthur Lowell	AFTERUS is populated by a very mixed bunch. Lots of humans, but alongside them, a great number of TROLLS, ELVES, and CARAPACIANS make this planet their home. It's one of the Carapacians that responds here, with a gruff sort of deeper tone, over an extremely precise and well-crafted radio transmission system. "Vielar, this is Afterus space traffic control of the City of Home, we read you. Transmit Syndicate Network ID to authorize for the user Perfect Grace. Meantime, we've got a warm hanger for you, marking coordinates, over." The hangars are well-furnished and well-maintained, opening to accept the craft should it take the invitation. The Syndicate Network is also opening up, should Perfect Grace provide the appropriate authentication, giving all the useful little contact options around here. The Network's Administrator, for example, seems to be available for contact or invitation.
Perfect Grace	"Mark that, Afterus Control, code Echo-Quebec-2817." The code is from another sector, which checks out, at least. As soon as it gets authorized, she gets up from her comms-console and pushes a button on the side of it. "Spanner, you're the responsible one. Shore leave granted, keep Ssisla and Saffron out of trouble." Releasing that button, the pegasus adjusts her uniform in order to make sure she's presentable, before Grace takes an ARC down. The craft has a wedge-like shape and is jet black, designed for minimum resistance on atmospheric re-entry, and covered in heat-resistant tiles, but is still glowing by the time it approaches the hangar. Thankfully, the thing cools off-somewhat on exposure to air and wind. The Vielar itself would break apart under its own weight in the atmosphere, necessitating the use of these Atmospheric Re-entry Craft. Grace disembarks from the craft, bearing only a sidearm in an obvious side-holster, but she suspects she'll be asked to give that up. As if she needs it.
Arthur Lowell	Oddly, Grace won't find much issue with that sidearm. The combination of favorable diplomatic relations and the tough population means a distinct lack of issue on that end of things. The hangar is well-furnished and well-maintained, and it'll keep the ARC housed and supplied during this little visit well enough. Authorization given, the Network blossoms like a digital flower, giving Grace her options. The various information available concerning jobs throughout the multiverse is the primary focus, of course, but contact is perhaps the more immediately relevant thing. The Administrator's heirarchy is fairly well-known and well-understood, so for a visitor who wishes to speak to the local 'boss', contacting him is simple. He apparently has a fairly straightforward 'meet me!' system set up, just sending off a quick message to his username ought to bring him out to Afterus Arrivals. The username is a little weird, of course. "profoundBadness". Not particularly official or like you'd expect the top brass to be.
Perfect Grace	Perfect Grace barely bats an eye-lid at the screen-name. It does make the pegasus glance down to the comm-link on her right fore-arm, though. For most creatures, a single button press would simply send the HUD up to their ocular implants. Grace didn't have the benefits of implants, as her unique physiology made them incredibly inconvenient. Thankfully, technology of the Empire had to compensate for the Sol Invictus's Amore sects, which generally considered such augmentations distasteful at best, blasphemous at worst. Zealots. It made things easier for her, though, to have interfaces for everything that didn't need those things. She glanced about after taking a look to her commlink's screen, and followed the prompts to reach her host. She shot him a message in return, it coming out as the more professional LtPGrace (followed by her ID number, of course, in greeting, before she saw him. Seemed appropriate.
Arthur Lowell	ARTHUR LOWELL is now here. Or, you know, after a bit of brief waiting. Several things are apparent all at once: The first is that the human boy is young, looks to be maybe 17. Second is that his mannerisms are possibly the opposite of professional. With a wide grin and a casual posture, he looks more like he's heading to a party. The arrivals area is well-furnished enough that the wait won't be long before Perfect Grace hears his voice, alternating between EMPHATIC and normal, casual discussion. "'EY!" He calls out. "You GRACE? WHAT UP, yo, that'd be YOUR radiation-dumpin' JUMP NOISE up in ORBIT, yeah?" He's... Floating, back down and parallel to the ground, his fingers linked behind his head casually. It's a reclining sort of posture. He's got a wide grin on his face. "WELCOME ON, girl. Heard you been OUT in the OTHER SECTORS, you droppin' in on the party HERE NOW?" He'll suddenly float right up to her, jabbing a hand out in a way that practically demands a handshake, which, if it's accepted, will be given with GREAT VIGOR. "I'm ARTHUR LOWELL, ROCKET-POWERED JERK and NETWORK ADMIN. I've got the BASICS, but gimmie YOUR words, what's YOUR deal, girl?"
Perfect Grace	Perfect Grace is damn glad she met this guy, and anyone else on her squad. Spanner would turn around and walk out, Ssisla would immediately try to get both of them into trouble, and Saffron would have started copying him. She has to wonder why he's emphasizing seemingly random words, though. She decides not to go with formalities, he sure isn't. "Perfect Grace. Mercenary and carnivore extraordinaire." She extends a hand to shake. "Yea, I heard the real fun happens in this sector. And where there's 'fun', there's money to be made. Your network has done right by me so far, too."
Arthur Lowell	"Shit YEAH, ADVENTURES up in THIS motherfucker goddamn PRINT the CASH." Arthur says. "THAT'S a priority we can work with here. Let's see, let's see..." Snapping, a quick little magical projection flows around him. "If it's CASH you're after, we got, let's see..." He flicks the 'screens' his magic has summoned up. "We got JONO workin' on a BUNCH of small MERC JOBS up in HYDAELYN, we got the PROTECTORATE up in BROCKTON BAY gettin TROUBLE from some VILLAINS - we talkin' straight fuckin' NERDY COMIC-BOOK SHIT, yo - then there's some MAGIC shit GOIN' DOWN in CHICAGO might need some PAID HELP..." "Lookin' like there's plenty of TREASURE HUNTIN' you could do while gettin' the usual UNION HUMANITARIAN AID PAY up in the UNDEAD CRISIS on LORDRAN, the SYNDICATE'S been offerin' a BOUNTY on gettin' the weird ABSTRACTUM PROBLEM worked out by dropping in on the 'HOMEWORLD' and linking up with the people there,..." His big stack of projected jobs gets tossed over one shoulder, dismissively, then he makes a little double-fingerguns gestre at Perfect Grace. "If you're lookin' to get CASH, there's plenty of people lookin' to GIVE it if you're not feeling bad about gettin' into some WEIRD ADVENTURES. How's the sector SOUND to YOU?" He goes back to linking both hands behind his head, through his excessive hair, and floating, weightlessly, in the reclining position.
Perfect Grace	"Sounds like a tartarus of a time," Grace responds, while folding her arms. She has to admit she didn't expect this guy to be in charge. He's about Joule's age, after all. "Weird adventures are pretty much every day in the Equestrian Empire, anyway." She considers. These are some options, there. Of course, she doesn't know where half these places are. "I might need to update my navigation systems. I don't really know much about this sector, and my only engineer is overworked as it is. Where can I download the new maps, huh?"
Arthur Lowell	"FUNNY STORY." Arthur says, his grin wide enough to show off pretty much all of his teeth at once by now. "Turns out this SECTOR got what the SCIENCE calls 'EFFED IN THE BEE HOLE', space-wise, couple years back." He gives a quick shrug. "Reason you don't got PROPER MAPS, y'know? The CONFEDERACY tried to fuck around a bit with UNIFICATION." He puts both hands out dramatically. "Ended up BREAKING REALITY for a while. When we got it all FIXED, we didn't know our ASS from a PUMPKIN, cartography-wise. Bunch of WORLDS got REARRANGED." "Jump on the NETWORK." Arthur says, drifting off a little bit, an invitation for Perfect Grace to walk with him. "Even if we can't get you a SECTOR MAP, we can get you a map of the WARPGATES, and that's pretty much JUST AS GOOD for JOBS around here." He snaps, pointing at a screen that normally shows arrival and departure times and which now instead shows a complicated web-like arrangement. "The WARPGATES are your WORK COMMUTE around this sector. Got OBSERVER-BASED QUANTUM COLLAPSE CONNECTION on these bad boys, so most of these, just think where you need going, and if it's on the ROSTER of DESTINATIONS, bingo, there. Oughta be a little SMOOTHER RIDE than your big ol' GEIGER-DROPPIN' RADIATION-DUMPER of an FTL, know what I'm sayin'?" He'll probably give a quick little friendly elbow jab there before he snaps and reverts the screen back. "Anyway, I'll get a WARPGATE MAP sent your way. Anything else the Syndie Net can do ya for, girl?"
Perfect Grace	"Hey, Subspace isn't so bad. Just needs a lot of short jumps. Actually kinda pretty in there. Folded space gives you quite the view." She's following along behind him, listening. The elbow jab made her wince a bit. Not big on the physical contact. She glances over the screen with all the times and places, warp-gate palooza. "I guess gates get you there faster, though. I hope yours are more comfortable than the blink gates the Empire has. They get you where you're going in no time flat... Along with a nasty case of vertigo." And nightmares. Those happen too. "Alright, guess all my problems'll be solved by just CONNECTING to the NETWORK," Grace shoots with a smirk, adding her own little jibe at his speech.
Arthur Lowell	Arthur does another double-finger-guns gesture, doing a brief ":D" sort of look when Grace imitates his mannerisms. "That's the HOPE! Lemme tell ya, back in the day? Stickin' to the UNAFFILIATED stuff, that was a recipe for IGNORANCE and gettin' SHITKICKED. Last dudes tried to do a WORLD-GROUP like mine got their shit BUSTED HARSH. This bein' all TWO-POINT-OH of that, I'm doin' ALL I CAN to make some PROBLEMS GET SOLVED, yo." "Anyway, WARPGATES got NO PROBLEMS, yep. Long as you're not droppin' by a few SPECIFIC worlds, I guess. Some places got their space fuckin' WHACK, we talkin' CALABI-YAU SHIT TWISTED so bad I wanna sell it as PRETZELS." He puts his tongue out, in a faux-grossed-out way. "But you'd hit that whether or not you used a WARPGATE, y'know? Anyway, gimmie a SHOUT if you need anything ELSE, yeah? Info-wise. You need anything else gettin' intro'd on this SECTOR? Anything else you need for the whole MEET AND GREET stuff?"
Perfect Grace	Perfect Grace says, "I think I'm good," though she doesn't sound all too sure. "I guess I could use some people names instead of place names, but the job listings should hold me over anyway." She lifts her right forearm to glance over it. A few finger flicks and gestures and she's looking at them. She heard this sector got crazy, but this place sounded downright ^italics^fucked^normal^, Empress excuse her language. "And those gates I shouldn't be taking. Unless I have a job to.""
Arthur Lowell	"PEOPLE NAMES? Sure thing." Arthur sets onto the ground and takes a pondering posture. "JONOTHAN STARSMORE handlin' some stuff off of HYDAELYN, the PROTECTORATE'S loudest mouth is a dude called ARMSMASTER, I'm pretty sure PSYBER can get you linked up with stuff goin' down in CHICAGO, there's a big white GHOST LADY called PRISCILLA handling the LORDRAN issue, kiddo named DEX ALRUIN dealing with some DIMENSIONAL COLLAPSE DEATH GAME shit, uhhhh..." He taps his chin. "Honestly fuckin' half of EVERYONE is in on this ABSTRACTUM bullshit, ask goddamn WHOEVER." He makes a really vague shrugging gesture. "Either they KNOW or they KNOW A GUY WHO KNOWS, if they're an ELITE." "As for the GATES you wanna NOT TAKE? Most of 'em, you can't unless it's INTENTIONAL. Might run into some spatial WEIRDNESS with some first version of EQUESTRIA or something, I guess? But, like, they don't ever come up, pretty much EVER." He does a sort of glibe, dismissive shrug. "That's about it. Can't think of much else to tell ya, girl. 'Sides where to get some good MEALS around HOME CITY while you got your SHORE LEAVE on, yo. Gimmie a shout if you need me, I'm usually on the FREQUENCIES and all." He takes his reclining posture again, and seems OK with Perfect Grace leaving or continuing to converse at her discretion.
Perfect Grace	"Hey, thanks. I'll be heading out now. I'll talk to you if I need anything else. Thanks for the information. If there's anything you might need four heavily armed and surprisingly professional maniacs, we'll be in touch. Though..." Her stomach rumbles a bit, and she looks down at it. Oh c'mon. She's sure there's nothing to... "... Hey, do you, like, have any game animals on this planet? I'm pretty hungry. If not, just tell me where the best steak in town is.
Arthur Lowell	Arthur gives a quick little sort of salute-esque gesture to Grace, alongside the friendlier side of his smirk. "Happy t'help. I'll give you a CALL if I got anything I need to bring the PAIN DOWN on, yo." He gives a more intense sort of grin. "OH, you more into the HUNTING kinda shit? LEMME TELL YOU," He says, jabbing a finger at her. "We got ALL KINDS of shit out here on AFTERUS, everything from POKEMON to WYVERNS. Plenty of GAME ANIMALS," He laughs, briefly, at his own joke. "But HUNTIN' 'em is TOUGH. Here..." He provides, of course, two sets of directions: One to the nearest steakhouse, and the other to one of the, apparently, many monster-infested forests of Afterus that one can find delicious creatures within.
Perfect Grace	Did he just say WYVERNS? She grins widely. Too widely, the kind of grin only someone like her can give. "That sounds like /fun/. I'll be out there looking for food then. Oh, and my subordinates are in town, if they cause any trouble at /all/, I'll deal with them." She starts walking briskly away, and it's not entirely clear if she's as hungry as she is looking forward to the hunt itself. Weird pony.