Shouldn't I be nervous about this type of thing? Really, I know this is a situation most average people with common sense would, like, feel some sort of panic about. I don't. I'm comfortable. I know these people aren't too friendly with me yet, but I don't need to prove that. I like it like that. I just started feeling this way; I don't even know why I'm overcome with tranquillity right now. Nothing is even giving it to me, except my own brain teaching me. Wow.}
Stanley: "Oh, it's back."
Ren's video came back up for Stanley to admire once again.
"WE ARE NOW ASCENDING INTO THE SPACE OUTSIDE OF PERSEI YMIR-22, BE ON THE LOOKOUT IF ANYONE HAS NAUSEA! ARRIVAL IN THREE HOURS."
Magnus once again blared his voice through the shuttle's internal speakers; the people of Broken Halo could hear it from every corner of the seating area.
{Oh wowsers. Anyways, back to this video.}
Ren's video continued from where it left off, Oblivion and Ren screaming at each other. Stanley grew increasingly annoyed, and a little embarrassed for anyone sitting nearby.
{I wanna turn this off so bad. No way the rest of the video is Daryl making retarded faces and the Nullari and Ren screaming at each other.}
"Aight guys, I'm ending it here, ay? I think it's too distracting from these retards and noisemakers, huh, DARYL? OBLIVION?" Ren finally pushed Daryl's head out of the way of the camera and ended the loud screaming battle with the so-called "new boy", Oblivion, who Stanley is slightly confused by.
Before Ren could turn off the video recording, he called out the two people who annoyed him during his filming.
{The gentleman and quiet guy, Oblivion, and gut puncher did a fucking screaming battle like a fourteen-year-old. Not much to be said here.}
Stanley: "Yep. I got a hella ride ahead of me." He mumbled while he extended his arms forward, trying to avoid the screen while stretching. His back seemed extra tight and needed a release of tension as he finally started to get extremely comfortable. The ground below was becoming harder to make out, the flat red dust of Stanley's new place of comfort slowly disappearing beneath them. The sky was moving downwards; the further the shuttle went higher, the more Stanley could feel the gravity of his body being pressed down, irritatingly. His ears were making popping noises from the pressure change, and the crew of the shuttle was dead silent, which made it more awkward for the only person not listening to music/movies or sleeping.
{Maybe I should try sleeping. I did kind of help out making this thingamajig. Eh, good enough effort. Wait, what am I saying? I didn't even do shit; I just wanna sleep. Okay, final. Sleep for no reason except passing the time.}
While Stanley was internally sorting his brain out, he pulled his gun out of his pocket to admire it while it was on safety lock; he pulled it out enough to look at it while keeping most of it tucked away in his pocket.
Stanley: "Oooo. Sleeping mask." He said to himself out loud.
He finally found the sleeping stuff in one of the small compartments on his right, where an area was taken up in space, for shelves and the TV behind him, just like the one in front of him and Daryl's seat.
He pulled out a small drawer after seeing the sleeping mask in one, and found a towel, toothbrush, mug, a pen and a book. A cheap-looking black pair of headphones was also there, but Stanley didn't care about that.
{So, we got a mug with… Ren's face on it. um… That's uncomfortable as shit; I don't wanna touch that. Wait, fucking hell, THIS SEAT'S REN'S??? SHIT, that explains why it looked familiar in the video. gosh. Wouldn't this seat be, like, respected or at least something? Yeah, Ren's pen. His initials, I'm guessing. R.W. It's just on it. It's left here. No one cleans out the seats? Surely the towels are clean and the face mask? I trust that to happen at least, since the clothes here are maybe air-dried.}
Stanley, for a minute or two, looked around in his enclosed seat, wondering if anyone was seeing this as well, or judging him from afar. He peeked over the door with half of his face, looking wide-eyed at whoever was looking back from the other row.
Not a single soul.
He ducked back down and put his hand to his chest for a second. Slumped. Finally curling off his shoes. His eyes were now looking less concerned and more tired. Closing, with eye bags defined. No one was paying attention to him now. He normally likes attention, but he's a grown adult. Stanley knows that people need quiet on a plane.
Slowly but surely, the blazer of his black uniform peeled off calmly and tightly, annoying Stanley for the time being.
The heat of his uniform started to air out, and the air con of the ascending plane felt lighter and easier to recognise now.
Without looking, he used his right arm to reach back into the open drawer and pick out the eye mask. A silky black one. Smooth to the touch, padding on the inside. While his head was upwards and touching the back of his cream coloured seat, he pulled it back and fit it over his head, letting go and directly slapping him in the face.
Stanley, for some reason, didn't react.
He could still see faint colours if he opened his eyes with the darkness mask: some faint glows that moved like balls of light of any shade, this time mainly summer colours, starting to evaporate little by little. The colours all went from the top left in the dark to the bottom left and were nearly gone. Space was in a hand's grasp.
"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, THE LONG JOURNEY STARTS NOW. HEAD TO THE TOILET OR UP IN THE COCKPIT WHEN NEEDED; BE ON THE LOOKOUT FOR THE SEATBELT SIGN. ENJOY THE MONTHLY MEETUP OF BROKEN HALO, NEW PEOPLE; YOU WON'T SEE SOME FOR A WHILE. (cough cough) TALLURRE."
Magnus sent out his message while Stanley slowed down his breathing.
Stanley did know how to sleep on command within three minutes. Controlling your breathing was the main step.
Every little exhale.
Inhale.
It made his heartbeat slow down. His other senses heightened, like his hearing. Someone walked down the corridor behind him.
Someone sneezed.
Besides that, there was the actual vehicle.
The shuttle's noise. The engines. whirring. It was working. Smoothly and seamlessly. The windows muffled it.
He finally yawned.
A big final further sink into the chair, as he extended the recliner. He imagined himself sinking into the pillow. The chair would eat him and make him sleep well enough. Then, he made a countdown from thirty. He took a deep breath for every number he counted in his head. A lake he imagined. A new duck for every number.
By the time thirty hit, it was lights out for Stanley.
{Shit, I'm a lazy bum tonight. Or am I lucky? Am I stupid for coming here? The ultimate side quest? This shouldn't have ever been a possible future. This feels like me looking back when I'm dead at all the future possibilities that could've happened, and this was one of them. Huh. What am I? A slave to fate? Magnus was saying this was meant to be. This stupid thing. Me following Tallurre back to his car. Should I have done that? Am I even fine with this group? These people? I don't know. Are my emotions in check? Nope. Am I in love? No, but lust strikes me down whenever it's least needed. Stanley Kleitos. Are you even a person? How did I get a perspective? Is perspective an Anomaly? Something that shouldn't be a thing? I wouldn't have a clue.}
And Stanley continued like that.
Until he dozed off.
—————————————————————————————————————————
"Mm mm."
"Hmm. MMMMmmmmmmmm."
"DESCENSION DOWN TO LEEASH IS FINALLY HERE, EVERYONE! BE PREPARED, AND GET YOUR ASSES BACK IN THE SEAT OF YOUR CHAIR BEFORE THE SHUTTLE GETS DOWN INTO PARADISE. LITERALLY."
{is DESCENSION even a word retard boss? paradise? Magnus, what the fuck are you on? Goddamn, man, these cushions are so bad for my back- no firmness at all, just fucking nothing. ah. What's that? Fucking— OH MY GOD. SHIT. Whoa. Whhhhaaaaaaaaaattttttt… Why is the sky perfectly blue? Not one single cloud, and like, totally green ground. Like REALLY green. What even are those types of buildings?}
Stanley peered through the window, which shone yellow and blue across his entire body, shocking him at first, then, over time, as his eyes adjusted.
He remained incredibly close to the window, his nose nearly poking the thick glass that peered out to a vast futuristic world that had rounded architecture and strange futuristic buildings, clean reflective surfaces and vast, enormous spaces of empty green.
His breath left moisture on the window, which Stanley annoyingly wiped off with his long-sleeved black clothes.
He looked up. Nothing except the emptiness of pure blue bliss to look around at. A blank slate of blue, similar to the type of blue found in a blue screen in an old computer. everywhere.
He looked left; all that was in the sky was oxygen. If he tilted his head up to the point where he was stretching his chin, it seemed like an optical illusion. It was too perfect. Someone could mistake it for blue cordial, glass, and more.
Now, down at the ground, where he looked next, was the absolute pinnacle of green, smooth hills that seemed fake from above. Too noticeable. The colours don't blend from above or distort like in most planes; there were only two colours to be spotted from the nature sides of things. Blue and Green. That's all that seemed to be and ever was. No clouds, no leaves, no turbulence affecting the shuttle. Not even discolouration from a far horizon.
From further away, to the bottom right was something reflecting, different from the uncomfortable norm of blue and green: an ocean, from what Stanley could make out. The sunlight hit at exactly the right angle, not too bright, not too warm. Somehow, even that felt abnormally perfect, bouncing back into his eyes from afar. It hit him like a reflective ray when looking at a certain angle.
When looking at the grounds, the number of buildings was surprisingly scarce. From thousands of kilometres away, only the lumps of around seven buildings spread out in different uncoordinated areas, like colonies that weren't too distant. Around a thirty-minute drive at a comfortable speed, and you'd be at the next closest building.
These buildings, even from afar, didn't seem big at all. More like a small shopping mall, or a tall skyscraper by itself, trying to merge naturally with nature. The smoother architecture could be spotted and more appreciated the further the Broken Halo group went down, as round, curved designs that used flowing lines, circles, and curves especially were the most dominant feature at a long distance. The whiteness of whatever material was used or paint was perfect cream white, combined with the standard white used in computers. A bright combo that uplifted the entire features and greenery on the outside, being used as decoration on the buildings, stood out closer when Stanley got lower.
Daryl: "whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat." Stanley heard Daryl speaking in a low voice, in front of him, commenting on something, probably the outside from his window. Tapping noises and finger movements were faintly heard, like he was moving side to side.
Stanley turned his head quickly to the right, away from the window and looking at Daryl's seat, to see Tono walking past with his baseball cap worn backwards, like it was a good fashion choice, tucking in his big flood of hair, a burst fade.
{Did he always have a cap? Copying Jordan, ay? Look at you, pal, Tono, I think. What type of last name is Xbanlanque anyway? Not really too foreign, from just looking at his white, sandy, freckled skin. He does seem out of it all the time. High. I know an avid drug user when I see one. I used to have all those symptoms, huh. Walking slowly and looking blankly, like an android, daydreaming.}
Magnus: "DESCENDING WILL GET A BIT LOWER NOW. I DON'T MENTION IT MUCH, BUT SEATBELTS ARE RECOMMENDED, NOT FORCED, AT LEAST RIGHT NOW, TEAM! IF YOU LOOK OUT TO YOUR LEFT, YOU CAN SEE THE PEACEFUL, TRANQUIL HOMES OF THE ENTIRE LEEASH FAMILY BRANCH, WHICH APPARENTLY EXTENDS TO TWENTY-THREE RIGHT NOW AND IS STILL GROWING, EVEN IN SUCH A PLACE." Magnus once again used his narrator/western pilot voice to announce whatever came to his mind, along with a little bit of the necessary pilot commentary.
Stanley looked up at the roof above Daryl, and then his.
It all looked professionally created, except for the painting choice of deep black. The entire cabin section was deep black, accompanied by white LED's that stretched in lines throughout the floor, walls, and roof.
Slowly, the plane felt as if it was leaning downwards, extremely slowly and safely. Stanley could feel the change, as the others could easily.
Everyone was still quiet in the plane; a few noises could still be heard.
Daryl's shuffling.
Tono coming back from the toilet, leaning on the right side of the seat doors, as the plane moved.
Someone from the front yawning loudly and annoyingly.
Someone from the front right, extending their arms up, like they were stretching them up in the air.
Over time, the plane got closer to the ground, and an enormous hollow circle could start to be spotted from Stanley's seat, with white grass paint all over the natural hills. Everything lined up, like the circle was naturally there, not just crop art for a modern version of a helipad.
Closer and closer it got.
Leeash's home ground.
Our main character had only a few thoughts for this whole situation.
Stanley didn't care or feel excited about it.
Rather, more like curiosity in a calm way.
{Now, how would this all be created? I'm familiar with some of this tech, of natural engineering, but not to the degree it became some guy's personal paradise and experiment that only seems like his family is allowed here. I suppose I'm curious for an answer on why this "Leeash" family needs our help. Mainly there's. Not sure how I'm meant to do shit. My skills are just to live for me. I don't mean that selfishly; I've always lived for me. Even with my ex. Never had the opportunity to change. Maybe I did, but I didn't want to.}
Every minute that passed, the closer the hills became, the more defined, smoother, and oversaturated in real life. Each bundle of grass Stanley could see from afar was almost glowing. Glowing with health. It looked overly happy in a field of nothing but grass.
Eventually, the grass became clearer; every minute passed.
Suddenly, Stanley's body shook a bit. jiggled and vibrated while looking at the window as the shuttle came hurtling down.
Magnus: "EVERYONE, ATTENTION, WE HIT GROUND NOW! OUR NEWCOMERS' FIRST MISSION!" He announced happily, which Daryl clapped mockingly and Aurora from the back fake-cheered. Everyone else remained seated and quiet for him to finish yapping as the shuttle stopped moving after a short period of time.
"NOW, LEEASH IS OWNED BY LANDLORD AND STOCKBROKER, TOBIAS LEEASH. A WEALTHY, WEALTHY LEGEND OF THE STOCK COMMUNITY. WE MAY HAVE ONLY SEEN FIFTEEN BUILDINGS OUT THERE, BUT TRUST ME, THERE'S MORE. WE'RE ONLY ON ONE SIDE. THE ONE CLOSER TO MR. LEEASH. I'LL EXPLAIN THE SITUATION ONCE WE ARE ALL OUTSIDE AND HAVE TAKEN OUR NECESSITIES, AKA SELF-DEFENSE WEAPONS MATCHING YOUR CAPABILITIES, AND OUR KEVLAR ALLOY BLAZERS. GRAB THE GEAR, AND MEET ME OUTSIDE. PEACE!" Stanley listened closely, even after Magnus turned off the intercom. He could easily hear the people starting to move and stand up, so he joined in quickly.
He had nothing much to carry, besides the gun, which he put in his inner blazer pocket.
He looked up ahead as he opened up his sliding door and walked slowly to the front before everyone else, who was either rearranging stuff or right behind Stanley.
Stanley was the first one to come through the tunnel of a pathway to the main tight entrance that was connected to the cockpit, with Magnus waiting there, wearing vintage-looking sunglasses that a rich man in Western America on Earth would wear every day, as his unique accessory.
Magnus: "Come on, Kleitos, First one? That desperate to see and smell the scent of heavily refreshed air?" He said with a stretched smile. Magnus was also curious to see the grounds, as Stanley could tell as he slowly inched forward; more people ended up in front of him before Magnus opened up the hatch with ease while looking back at the group, unaware of the breeze coming.
BEWWWWSHH!
Instantly, the fresh, fresh air blew into Magnus's face as the hatch moved outwards and to the left.
Everyone behind Stanley, or who could see Magnus, saw him poke his head out and started to wave confidently and mildly at a man in a tank top with blonde hair, a fair distance away, sitting on a checkered picnic rug, waving gently back.
Magnus turned back to his crew and colleagues and talked quickly.
"Now, who do all of you think that is?"
He said in an expressive tone, like a jolly teacher, while pulling the stairs out from the floor and extending them, without a thought of looking at his team members, standing two metres away, some bored, interested, annoyed and more.
"I don't know."
"Mm-hmm.A guy."
"Some dude? "
"A handsome dude at that."
"Mr Leeash?"
"That's one of the Leeash family members, sitting without a worry, Isn't it?""Rich posh bloke."
"A really friendly man, y'all.""I didn't hear that? Magnus, say that again?"
"I don't fucking know, Ryan Gosling, that old actor?"
"An earthling."
"Tobias, Tobias Leeash."
Magnus was nearly done sticking out of the stairs when he popped his head back in the car, shouting:
"WHAT?"
Stanley, Daryl, and Oblivion, the three closest, all looked at him, confused in different ways.
Stanley didn't think Magnus heard the discussion among the members.
Daryl thought all the talk was too loud for him to hear each one individually.
Oblivion assumed Magnus heard one thing and gave a reaction because of it.
Magnus: "Get OUTTA HERE RIGHT NOW SO I CAN HEAR YOU OVER THE WIND AND THE SHUTTLE DISCHARGING AND ENGINES COOLING!" He shouted at them before getting back up on his two feet to walk down while playing with his hair, trying to fluff it up to improve his appearance.
{Yeah, um. He didn't hear that. Shit, I'm the line leader. Line leader, huh. Haven't said that since primary school. I gotta move, now or else people will get mad.}
Soon, Stanley did end up following Magnus out.
But the light and the sheer freshness of the air were something unexpected to him, much similar to Magnus's reaction earlier.
At first, stepping out caused him to squint, as looking at the sky was what he wanted to do; then he adjusted abnormally quickly to the light, adjusted for advanced races, like the Leeash family.
Then, following Magnus, who was doing some arm stretches at the bottom, took in the sheer beauty of the air.
When someone drinks water, sometimes they can feel the sensation of water spreading around the body, causing them to feel refreshed, even if they don't feel it.
Stanley's nose took in that sensation of pure spring bliss for the nose, as the air got sucked into his nostrils, travelled down his throat and into his lungs. Every single molecule felt needed. Pleasant for Stanley. It wasn't "too" fresh air that tickles the nose sometimes, or humid air that makes you think it's a lot hotter than it actually is and makes you sweat bullets.
{Oh! Oh. Oh wow.}
He was nearly reaching the bottom of the staircase, now looking at the grass much more clearly.
Exactly how he depicted it at the top of the atmosphere. Green, healthy, clean. Perfect for rolling around in. Gives the kind of illusion that you couldn't get dirty from it.
He took a deep breath and unconsciously closed his eyes.
He opened them again and was right at the bottom of the stairs, more relaxed and slightly unsettled by the perfect landscape to build anything on.
Daryl: "Stanley! I'm sure you're seeing this right?"A hand popped over his shoulder, pointing towards the man, far away, now drinking a fairly rich-looking wine, with an actual wine barrel right next to him, out of view earlier.
He started to wave. Again.
Magnus, this time, looked for a bit longer at the man, instead of looking at his team, and started to walk over, to the point that he seemed like he was rushing smoothly and fast-paced.
By the time Stanley, Daryl and Oblivion were down, he was fifty metres away, and the group didn't question it and followed, trying to catch up to him.
{Oh man, He's long gone. Is that Mr Leeash, or someone else? It's probably him, waiting for us, isn't it? I wonder what Daryl thinks. He's just on my right, a little ahead of me, walking with a tight face and walking with freaking cool swag. Oblivion, that weird guy, is a bit behind me, I think. Let me check. Yeah, He's walking near Oswald and others. It all seems a bit cool, I guess, all of us walking in different areas, at different paces. Daryl and I at the front, most in the middle, except for Sheng-Ri, I think. And Johnny and Lori, chatting away in the back.}
Tallurre: "Excuse me, Mr Kleitos." Tallurre bumped into Stanley's shoulder, and then double-tapped Daryl meanly with his hand while looking out at Magnus, who had now reached the man, and politely greeted him with a bow, and sat down on the rug, then pointed at the two of them.
Daryl: "He's talking about us?" He said, unsure.
Tallurre: "Carter, he's calling us up, I think, to join Mr Leeash." He said to Daryl, walking side by side with him, with more gentlemanly calmness than most of the group. Stanley got pushed to the side and was a bit more curious about what the two on his right were talking about that needed him excluded.
{Now, I'm a bit jealous, not really sure why, maybe because I feel like I'm missing out. yeah. That might be it. What do we have here—more healthy grass, that softly mows itself with firm dirt, that doesn't seem to leave much residue when I look at the sole of my shoe. What am I even saying? Am I trying to accept that I'm not included in that conversation? Goddammit.}
"Hey!"
Magnus called out.
Daryl and Tallurre: "Hmm?"
A few seconds later, after looking at Magnus ushering them to come…
They both just patted each other on the back.
Tallurre: "Tell the others to stand around here."
The two, Daryl and Tallurre, started to jog their way towards Magnus and the picnic man, after reacting with a small shock.
Stanley saw them zoom past, slowed down his walking and turned around.
Stanley: "Y'all."
Oblivion, the one who paid the most attention to his movements, looked up from his conversation with Tono and Oswald.
The rest behind noticed the one in front of them pause and stop. They all repeated that.
Oblivion: "Yeah?" He said calmly, in an annoyed tone.
Stanley: "Yeah, um. We gotta wait for a bit." He shrugged, not knowing what else to say, and expressively extended his arms to match his shrug towards the others.
The rest all seemed, in their own way, alright with it. Accepting the details fast and didn't mind it.
"Yep, more time to kill."
Tono, near Oblivion and Oswald, sat down fast and lay down, doing some sort of unique meditation pose that seemed oddly comfortable.
Sheng-Ri: "Eh."
She moved past the lower back of the group, went to the middle of where Oblivion and Stanley were standing, plopped herself down gently, hands in pockets, and looked up at the sun while adjusting her sunglasses with a mildly annoyed squint, legs spread outwards and back straight.
"-As I was saying, right? This place is fucking freaky, dude."
"Lori, I dunno. I like it 'ere. Look right, look left. It's perfect material for a good shopping centa'. "
Stanley turned his gaze away from Sheng-Ri, who seemed comfortable basking in the sun like a toddler, to Johnny and Lori, now moved up a bit, closer to Stanley, after acknowledging him.
Stanley: "Eh."
He took a few minuscule steps and moved closer to Sheng-Ri before sitting down. Only two metres next to her, who didn't seem bothered at all. More like her mind was focused on her daydreams.
Chidieberre: "Stanley! You gotta be kidding me-that we gotta wait longer now, right?"
A voice behind Oswald, who was behind Stanley on his right, spoke up after walking with her arms crossed, annoyed and disgruntled.
"Nah. There ain't no way we can change that for now, Yeesh." He replied to the woman in a fast tone, much to his relaxed face, which gave off a calm vibe, good for Chidieberre, at least, to approach him.
Stanley: "Chidieberre, right?" He pointed at her while turning his head around, relaxed.
She took a few steps toward him.
"Yeah?" She said.
"When did you get those glasses, by the way?" He turned his body towards her, and she reacted by raising her eyebrows faintly, which could be seen above the square tinted sunglasses.
"Her." She said casually.
She pointed to her right, which was Stanley's back now, at Lori, who was standing around with Johnny, chatting, not too interested in this place, acting more uncomfortable about it than she was talking about with him.
He turned back to look at Lori and Johnny, who nodded back in their own way.
Chidieberre: "Also. You got gum?" She asked him quickly.
"Nah, why ask n—" Stanley replied before a cylinder was launched in the air towards Chidieberre.
She caught it with her left gloved hand in the air, and it was sent up higher than her own height.
Sheng-Ri: "Yeah, gum."
She shook her head, but didn't turn her body around. Still looking up at the peaceful sun.
"…"
"Crazy move, you pirate." She exhaled and replied calmly, like that backwards throw of her gum container wasn't going over her head.
Chidieberre: "Hmm. Spearmint. Classic girl. Good one." She mildly applauded her.
POP!
She opened up the container and poured out four rectangular, smooth pieces of white gum from the branded container of gum.
And threw it back underhand.
Stanley: "That's going ove—" He commented.
She quickly turned her head and caught the object that went back over her head. Seemingly on purpose.
Sheng-Ri: Yeah, just throw better next time." She turned her head back to the sun and put the gum back in her left pants pocket.
"Okay, you cannot be talking." She replied to her comment, seemingly a bit agitated.
{Is that a car?}
"He looked to his right, behind Chidieberre, and saw a biker of some sort, in a branded green tee, with a professional helmet, moving suddenly.
The group seemed like it noticed it beforehand, as all conversations went silent, except Chidieberre's and Sheng-Ri's.
{What? Why is that—why is there a biker here? HERE? HERE, of all goddamn places. Coming to us. Maybe to greet? I feel pretty safe around these people here; I don't think they are gonna press us for something. There are only like twenty-something family branches, so not a lot of people to come and frequently do this.}
After every minute passed, a new detail could be spotted about the biker, who was getting closer.
At first, he thought it was a grown man. turns out it's only a young guy.
He seemed muscular from over a kilometre away, turns out he's really a tall, skinny, lighter-skinned man.
His bike made plenty of noise, but looking back at its tracks, it was doing practically no damage to the trail behind it, only leaving semi-flattened grass, unusual for a loud toy of a bike.
"Hey! WHO Y'ALL?"
The kid came closer to the group, stopped moving, drifted a little bit trying to divert the energy sideways, and put on his kickstand before getting off and shouting at them.
The first person to respond was the group's doctor.
Johnny: "Kid, who are you?" He spoke, genuinely confused and extremely vocal about it, speaking in a loud tone while sticking out his arms to him, who was around ten metres away from the couple.
"I'm a man who lives here, duh. I wanted to see who my cousin was waiting for, out in the cold. Duh." He spoke out with prideful hints in his voice, loud and annoying, was a quick assumption, easily targetable for dislike from his demeanour and the way he carries himself.
Lori: "Kid, this is private business and services. We won't answer any ques—"
She got cut off by the kid in casual clothes, who turned his head a fraction to ask a question to another person, ignoring Lori and that conversation.
"Mr Nullari, can I ask a question?" He spoke in a lighter tone, raising his pitch a slight fraction, and talking more outgoingly than demanding. His attention went towards Oblivion, for whatever reason, who looked back at the kid with his eyebrows slightly raised and his arms in his pockets.
Oblivion: "Whatever floats your boat, Mr. earthling." The kid seemed a bit confused by the fact that he got called back his race name, like he just did, but brushed it off.
"Uhh, yeah, so." He raised his hands behind his head, scratching it with his left hand, and started to lean on his dirt bike, nonchalantly.
"There's a big debate on Advent: who could dominate in a battle, A common Nullari male or a Demitria Pale Synid. My friends all like believe the Nullari absolutely slams, but a few like REALLY believe that the Pale Synid's got that in the bag, man." He spoke fast-paced, like this was on his mind for a long time and needed to be answered.
The Broken Halo group all looked at the kid, then at Oblivion, who seemed a bit dumbfounded that this was apparently "trending on social media".
Oblivion: "Kid, hold on. What's your name, by the way?" He put his left hand on his temple and massaged it while thinking.
"Terry?" He said, confused and a bit worried.
Oblivion: "Terry, right. I would absolutely "slam," ' as your friends said in the question."
Terry: "THAT'S WHAT I'VE BEEN TRYING TO SAY! YOU GOT VIBRATION DISTRIBUTION, AND THE BEST NATURAL EARS EVER." He raised his tone excitedly in his response, seemingly happy that the man near him agreed to his comment in a short time of thinking.
{Ok? I mean, Sheng-Ri and Oblivion can just duke it out right now to prove it. I think Sheng-Ri's got the Pale Synid's weird crystal thing, and Oblivion just got sonically resonating natural shit. Man, I really had to break my phone in Polonian Lepidus. I want to go back and use social media so bad, if fighting questions like these is trending. Didn't that kid also just say freezing earlier? what?}
Chidieberre: "Kid, Terry, you aren't supposed to talk to people like us. Get out of this location, and head to your mom or someone else." She said after a few seconds of good energy and vibes were put in the air by the overly chatty kid.
He turned his head, tilted it a bit, and pointed his index finger at her.
Terry: "WOAH!" He said, shocked, mesmerised by something about her.
"Oh, what?" She said, annoyed.
"Nothing…" He said, in a cheeky tone. Obviously having some sort of dirty thought about the goth-suited woman near him, and his body language was there to prove it.
Terry: "You were saying something, miss?" He spoke in the cheerful tone that was absent from Johnny and Lori.
"Yeah, hurry back. Go."
"Nah, y'all are an interesting bunch of people. Just look around; the variety is wide, miss." He waved his arm at all of them, pointing at each, and being vocal about it.
"This is like, what? the third group this year?"
Johnny: "Group? So, there's been other randoms here like us?" He took a few steps forward to the kid, trying to be curious and vibrant to the teenager, even though he looked like an outdoors western ranger.
Terry: "Yeh, man." He mumbled his words, speaking a little too fast to pronounce some things right.
Tono: "Cool reveal. Doesn't affect us too much." He spoke up, inviting himself to the conversation from the back, where Terry and the people who spoke the most were.
Aurora: "Yeah, it does." Replying with a tone of attitude to Tono, who was right near her, in the back.
"It means that the others failed or did some sort of other task aside from this one. Hopefully, the second option." She turned to her right and smugly frowned at him. Tono looked annoyed, looking back at her.
{You know, what the fuck even is this? This is so weird; I'm in a conversation with a fourteen-year-old about racial beatdowns while in the place the Windows logo lives. Crazy turn of events for my opportunistic bitch ass.}
Terry: "Anyways- I feel bad for Toby. I'm sure he let on the details about Sierra?" He said in a questionable voice, back to Oblivion, who was focusing on him and his voice.
"I am still waiting on orders and missions as of right now. No context has been given about this job." He said, calmly and simply, different from the usual responses informal people would give.
Stanley: "Uh?" He became vocal for the first time in this conversation.
Terry turned to look at the guy, who was lying with his upper body turned towards him, and his other half facing the sun, wearing many layers of clothing.
"Really? His wife? Not a single detail yet?"