Chronicles of The Omniverse Archived Westeria City: Little Shintenchi - Ration Stations

Tiko

Draconic Administrator/Mentor
Administrator
Mentor
Nexus GM
as written by Tiko

Today within Little Shintenchi served as many days had come to be as of late. That is to say it remained peculiarly lively, and cheery. Children played on street corners, and people went about their daily routines of work, shopping, and tending to family. Despite the crumbling of the city infrastructure and the absence of a governing body, a strong sense of community remained within the ethnic neighborhood.

A month had passed now since the TNG's departure, but the residents of Little Shintenchi seemed resolute in their decision to simply hole up and weather out the storm. To those accustomed to the unsecured streets of the city beyond, it was an almost surreal thing to see people so at ease but it came with a price.

One need not look far to notice armed men and women patrolling the streets or manning the barricades leading in and out of Little Shintenchi. Food and medicines had been confiscated while ration stations were setup to provide to those in need for as long as supplies lasted.

There was also a pointed ethnic division within Little Shintenchi that showed no sign of wavering. Many had turned up at the barricades seeking shelter and aid, but those not of Losenyu, Taiyou, or Volarian ethnicity had all been turned away. No amount of pleading, begging, appealing, or bribery had gained them entry. The only apparent exception was made for those few who had been residing within Little Shintenchi before the barricades went up, and whom already had an established presence within the community.

____

Despite the seemingly unscathed overview of Little Shintenchi, one blatant scar cut across it where Butcher's flames had swept down a city block length of street, devouring the buildings within their path.

Much of the street - now uninhabitable - had largely been converted for the use of rationing stations. Tents and lean-to sheds had been erected all up and down the street, and those buildings that were still structurally sound had been converted into storage houses. The areas too dangerous to traverse had been cordoned off.

The armed presence in this area was heavy and order strict as crowds of people gathered in large waiting lines. One side of the street had been setup for distribution of rations, while the other had been setup up for supply runners to check in supplies. The latter proved scant and bare today as good supply runners were becoming scarce. Few wanted to voluntarily venture into unsecured neighborhoods for meager pay.
 
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as written by Steph and Tiko

Little Shintenchi was her home. If your neighbour smiled at you, there's a damn good chance they've planned the fastest way to kill you and sell your organs for an extra coin already. Perhaps not everyone who lived in this district saw it quite that way, but Sam sure did. It seemed as though they all lived in a messed up fairy tale. As if the clean streets represented its inhabitants clean hearts, and its pristine buildings encompassed a view of their pure and altruist actions?

Sam scoffed as she whipped the sweat on her forehead with the hem of her shirt. Muscles flexed as she lifted yet another box of - she looked at its contents - yep, fucking raisins. Who even likes these? Sour balls of suck. She jumped down on the ground, from the back of the transport truck, and piled the box along with the other ones.

There was only one thing the ex-military hated more than people purposefully engaging in a conversation with the woman, and that was doing nothing. When you grew up developing calluses from throwing wood around, staying seated and having an ass scratching marathon, waiting for a bounty to come in, hardly qualified as productive.The market needed volunteers, even if the pay was crap (more fruits, of course), it filled her days. And right now, that was enough.

The war with the Ashen brought on great destruction - more so on the outside wall of Little Shintenchi that inside its tightly guarded walls. It was almost scary, Sam thought, how little had changed. A man nonchalantly slammed into her, barely uttering anything before he continued on. ''Fuckin' watch where you're going, asshat! Sam shouted and angrily slipped the dark cap back onto her head.

She cursed as she stared at the now destroyed crate of fruits and thought it was probably a fitting end anyways. Fuckers.

____

"Loading fruit again," a man's voice inquired as he approached her. "I would have expected your talents would have been better put to use with something more than manual labor," he said with a shake of his head.

The man in question was a scrappy Losenyu man by the name of Hachiro. His tone wasn't demeaning, so much as genuinely perplexed at her choice of work. The mercenary woman confused him, and it showed upon his furrowed brow.

"You know we need more people on supply runs," he said. "Why is it that you spend your days here? I know you're not afraid of the streets out there. Is the pay not good enough? Or are you just waiting for us to get desperate enough to come ask you?"

Doing supply runs was largely on a volunteer basis, but as of late fewer and fewer people were returning, and fewer yet were willing to venture out. Hachiro was having to step up his sales pitch to get the volunteers needed to keep supplies trickling in.

Of course finding competent individuals was proving difficult in itself, and the Volarian ex-military mercenary would be a great asset...

That he saw her here day in and out, helping unload and distribute food was as vexing as it was confusing for him.
 
as written by barney_fife

Everyone was going about their business, but there was a sudden and oppressive silence that suddenly washed over the makeshift little shintenchi bazaar. Just down the assortment of food carts and people trying to scrap by, an imposing, muscled man was standing there. His choice of attire was quite clear, dark leather motorcycle pants adorned with chains, and a ornate red and black motorcycle jacket, with a large design of a red dragon on the back.

The man's face was hidden by a pair of dark sunglasses, his cleanly shaved head glinted with sweat in the Westerian heat, to those familiar with Little Shintenchi politics would know the man only as 'Jyunichi' a brutal Taiyou gang lieutenant belonging to the Red Dragon syndicate.

The Red Dragons have always exerted some kind of influence in Little Shintenchi, whether it was peddling drugs or whores, street races, guns, fast cars, chop shops, if it was illegal and profitable; they partook.

Jyunichi's footsteps were slow and delibrate, clenched around his left hand was a chain, a chain that lead to a young woman in the dazzling grey camouflage patterns of an Aschen Imperial uniform. The petite brunette appeared emaciated, beaten from the weeks of being stranded here in Westeria.

There were the usual Aschen rank and fleet insignia on the uniform, but one patch stood out. A red triangle with a strange design in the middle and Anquietas text. Easily identifying what function this particular Aschen had.

Jyunichi kept the chain and collar fastened securely around the woman's neck, a woman who appeared no older than seventeen or eighteen, he dragged her with every step as he moved through the bazaar.

"Fresh servant, caught from the outside, for the low price of a weeks worth of ration!" Jyunichi bellowed, before kicking the woman, eliciting a yelp from her in response.

He stopped in the middle of the gathering of suppliers, before grinning.

"Plus taxes of course." He said, grinning.

"They make great manual labor! Housework! Or something a little more... personal. Firm body and that lovely Aschen stink that they all seem to have. Come on! her cunt smells like a new car!"
 
as written by Steph

Great, more interruptions. Do these idiots think I 'work' here to socialize? Sameera used the word work loosely, as real work in this part of Westeria involves more lethal types of tools and usual a scream are two from said 'work'.

She sighed and turned around, as she attempted to look polite at best. What was most likely supposed to be a smile turned into a scowl when she spotted the familiar face. "If you're aren't here to offer me something better, you can stop doing that thing with your mouth." Sam jumped down from the truck, with yet another box full of exotic looking glow-y fruit this time. Nothing she'd ever willingly consume, however.

She was impressed by her own choice of words. She didn't scream at him to 'get the fuck out of my way' and to Sam, that was a real improvement. "I already told you Hashiro, unless you get me what I need I would rather gut fish all day."

Of course, being trained in the military and having certain physical assets proved her to be extremely valuable in this type of mercenary work. And perhaps her ego was stroked from the personal offer - but Sam couldn't care less for what they had already offered her - and had actually declined any payment. Weapons, ammo, food. Those three vital things weren't that scarce to the woman.

What Sam really needed, was someone who knew how to calibrate her cybernetics. Doing it herself was nothing short of excruciating and she already dreaded the next calibration. Since she didn't have the proper tools, Sam had to plug herself into a source of electrical current directly. Generators were common, but the obvious power outage that followed the tinkering of her innards was less than subtle. Attempting to move straight after proved to be awkwardly painful and useless if you're trying to scamper away unnoticed.

"Get your head out of your ass, or kindly fuck off." She winked at him, as she threw the box down harshly on top of the others.

"Hey! Watch the fruit. You already ruined a box today,"one of the women yelled in Sam's direction.

She had simply flipped her off. Think happy thoughts. Think happy thoughts. It didn't work.
 
as written by Tiko

"Oh jeeze, that again?" Hashiro muttered. "The only place around here I know for certain that you're going to find someone with the skills for that is in New Caprica, and you know that place is off limits," he sighed with exasperation as he took a step back to avoid any potential flying boxes. "They'll have you lined up and shot just for being Volarian. I mean it could be worse, you could be Taiyou. The Aschen are all sick fucks. There's a reason New Caprica is off limits. Right now they're content there, but if we stir that hornets nest, where do you think they'll be turning next?"

He looked across the way to where Jyunichi was bartering off an Aschen woman. There was plenty of jeering and laughter going on, as well as concerned onlookers.

Hashiro wasn't the only one uneasy about riling up their Aschen neighbors. Of course, picking up strays from the streets wasn't quite the same as sending a scavenging team into the heart of New Caprica. People disappear out there all the time, no one would likely miss this women. And from the look of her, she was Imperial Aschen and thus not from New Caprica. No doubt she was nothing more than a remnant left behind when the Aschen Empire had withdrawn their fleets from the local region. Abandoned and forgotten by her own people.

Curiously it was a young Losenyu torajin woman that separated herself from the crowd, her lips pursed.

"I'll take her," she spoke up loudly over the jeering.

Like most of the Losenyu in Little Shintenchi, the woman spoke Taiyou fluently and engaged Jyunichi in his native tongue - a respect typically afforded the Red Dragon Syndicate.

Her interjection drew more than a few curious looks though. The woman was Ming Sun, an instructor at the Ming Dojo before it had burned down in the fires a month ago.

No doubt the Imperial Aschen woman's humiliation would only grow all the greater at being sold to a torajin as the tables it seemed had turned upon her.
 
as written by Lobos

At first, it was nothing more than a low murmur approaching, but as the seconds dragged into minutes, a murmur became more, the sounds of many footsteps, and the projected voice of a wheezing speaker. Soon it came into view, the burned man in rags and a small crowd of people. Silvertongue turned to stride straight down the street of the ration station, following the jarring rhythm of shuffling forward, drawing heavy, labored breaths, and speaking in Losenyu, the tones of a native accent lying under the rasp of his damaged vocal cords.

"Fire has shown us many truths...tru-truths of the weakness of the supposed 'mighty'...the elevated 'rich'. Now that the fire is gone, where are these self-acclaimed 'guardians'?!" Pausing as he stumbled, the youth of earlier helping to stabilize his shaky gait, the eyes of his mad façade scanned across the makeshift relief station before he and his audience.

"Are any of them before us? Where are those who called themselves our government? Our benefactors? Our friends?" He coughed violently. "They are gone. Fled, in the manner of tyrants who feel the heat of danger against their soft, coddled hands. All that remain are brethren to help brethren, our own husbands and wives, fathers and mothers, brothers and sisters. Our children! Our children to do more to help us than those who would claim responsibility!"

"It is any wonder the gods no doubt weep?"

Moving forward, this seeming prophet continued his open musings, his improvised sermon. His procession's progress sluggish, as the wild orbs followed the sudden shifts in his neck, meeting the gaze of any onlooker to convey the targets of his words.

"I look here, and I see our people. Our strength. The efforts of our own, and I wonder why we ever thought we needed outsiders to decide our fates for us." A marred hand raised before him, clutching at the air like a macabre claw before raising a fist skywards.

"Are we a people in need of help? Or are we strong enough to help ourselves?!" This last, as much of a roar as smoke scarred and ash burned lungs could afford.
 
as written by Tiko

"Oy, and who are you?" an elderly old Losenyu man with a cane hollered back at the burned stranger.

Most simply assumed that Silvertongue belonged, and that he was one of theirs. A victim of the flames that had swept the street. But not old Huan. No, the nosy old nut had an uncanny way of knowing what everyone and their grandmother was up to, and he made it a point to judge every last one of them while he was at it.

Course the old man had been around as long as most could remember and few paid him much mind these days.
 
as written by barney_fife

Jyunichi said nothing as the Losenyu Torajin approached, and even addressed him in Taiyou. It was a sign of great respect for one to address the red dragon in their native language. Jyunichi hated the cursed Gaijin tongues.

"My price still stands, a weeks rations, but I'll accept weapons and anything else of value." He replied in Taiyou, yanking the woman forward and shoving her to the ground.

"I found this dirty bitch hiding in a spider hole, I had my fill so she's discounted." He added.

The young Aschen woman said nothing, the prideful and arrogant nature of the Imperial Aschen soldier was non existent here, she was beaten and had lost all hope. Mud, and blood caked her face, and her slender hands lacked the callouses and faint radiation burns associated with extensive weapons use.

"No honor, surrendered herself, didn't even put up a fight."

Jyunichi raised the hand with the chain, pulling the woman to her feet, he yanked the steel collar some more, causing the metal to press on her neck and windpipe, being bound she could not reach for the collar, only tear up, and choke. Struggling to get a breath before Jyunichi let her feet hit the ground, and she gasped and choked for air.

Jyunichi shoved her forward and she fell face first into the ground besides the Losenyu who offered to purchase her.

"Do we have a deal?" Jyunichi asked in Taiyou.
 
as written by Steph

Sam sighed as she continued to unload more boxes, never looking at the man, yet she listened to his every word. "Yeah, I know, you spin the same story every time." There was a hint of painfulness is her tone, yet it fled as soon as it showed up. Deciding her arms had enough, Sam grabbed her water bottle and sat down on the back of the truck. Sometimes she wished her implants were in her arms and shoulders. But she had to admit, dropping kicking somehow all the way through a brick wall is a feeling not much else can match.

"Then get me out of here." Simple sentence, yet near impossible task. With the right planning however, it might work. And if someone can do it, it's Hashiro. As much as she loved giving him shit, he's knows hit stuff. A quality Sam admires. However, It would mean leaving her home, her routine, her acquaintances - her life. That something Sam didn't think she was ready for yet. In reality, she probably had been ready for a longer time than she gives herself credit for. She'd rather not dwell on it, overthinking get her brain chatty and sometimes her mouth. The horror.

Sam was debating with herself - having an existential crisis and what not, until Jyunichi marched in in with fresh Ashen meat. She eyes the scene with little to no interest. Politics, racism, hatred - what was the point really? Sam firmly believes everyone deserves to be hated equally and she does a damn good job of showing all of them. Though, she nearly spilled water from her nose at the Red Dragon's comment. She might be a cynic, but heck, she still has a sense of humor.

The ex-military recognized the woman who bid on the poor soon-to-be slave. She frowned and stood up, stepping beside Hashiro. "Do you think she's trying to build her own army of kung-fu minions?" Sam often visited the dojo, and spent a lot of time sparring by herself or meditating, before she was banned for life. I only broke 4 bones in that one apprentice, big deal. Totally overreacted. Though, sadly, the stunning building had burned down during the attack. Does that mean my ban is lifted?

"And between you and me, her ass isn't worth that price." The colorful comment was accompanied with an almost comical sad expression.
 
as written by Tiko

Hachiro raised an eyebrow at Sam's latest line of inquiry and commentary before shaking his head in exasperation. He opted to ignore much of it in favor of responding to the matter of relevance.

"If you wanted to leave, you could have hopped any transport out of here when the TNG was evacuating the place," he pointed out. "We need resources. We can't be expending them on people having second thoughts about staying behind. If you want me risking people by sending them to the outskirts of the city then you're going to need to make it worth my time. Because that risk isn't worth a single supply run."

Her attitude was clearly beginning to grate at the man's patience.

"You know where to find me."

Leaving her to her work, Hachiro made his way back across to the other side of the street.

____

Meanwhile the transaction over the Aschen woman continued.

"We do," Sun replied.

The woman had lived rather frugally even before recent events transpired, and though she would feel the pinch of a week worth of rations she would get by well enough.

She smoothly counted out a weeks worth of ration cards and offered them out to Jyunichi, with her other hand held outstretched for the chain.

Through the transaction Sun scarcely looked at or acknowledged the woman on the ground at her feet.
 
as written by Script

A short while later, back at the supply stations.

"Is that Sun?"

Talys turned to look where Rune had gestured as they arrived, taking in the scene that was unfolding. The woman with a collar round her neck, and the ration cards being handed over to the man holding the chain it was attached to. He frowned. It was a poorly kept secret that the Red Dragons were involved with the human trafficking business. Little Shintenchi was an important thoroughfare for the trade that thrived in the poorly regulated Losenji, prospering for its access to the diverse and exotic variety of 'exports' that Westeria offered. Short of confronting the entire gang, there was little anyone could do about it.

Despite this unfortunate fact of life, the syndicate had never been so brazen as to publicly acknowledge that trade. So the fact that one of them was brazenly selling a living woman - aschen or not - in the middle of the street? It was nothing short of sickening.

"Bastard," Rune hissed, brimming with barely contained anger. "I should go over there and-"

"Wait, Rune." Talys put a calming hand on his friend's shoulder, as his shadow began to grow threateningly. "We can't take on the entire Red Dragon."

"So we just let them get away with this?" The fetchling rounded on him with a furious glare, clenching his fists, but his shadow did shrink back down to normal. Talys suppressed a sigh of relief. Rune had plenty of personal reasons to take issue with slavery, but they couldn't afford to draw the ire of the Syndicate. Not if they wanted to stay here. Besides...

"No," Talys shook his head. "But I trust Sun. She wouldn't endorse something like this. Let's wait until we have a chance to talk to her, before we consider doing anything drastic."

"Fine," Rune relaxed his posture slightly, though he turned back to glare daggers in Jyunichi's direction from beneath his hood. "But we're not letting anyone keep slaves. That's not becoming a thing. I don't care how much stability they're providing, if they start trying to make that normal..." He trailed off into grim silence.

Talys couldn't help but agree with the sentiment. But at this point, hurting the Red Dragon too much would be hurting everyone under their protection. They just had to hope that the gang wouldn't get too out of control with their newfound authority.

Because relying on a crime syndicate to do the right thing was a great plan, right?
 
as written by Tiko

A short while later, back at the supply stations.

"Is that Sun?"

Talys turned to look where Rune had gestured as they arrived, taking in the scene that was unfolding. The woman with a collar round her neck, and the ration cards being handed over to the man holding the chain it was attached to. He frowned. It was a poorly kept secret that the Red Dragons were involved with the human trafficking business. Little Shintenchi was an important thoroughfare for the trade that thrived in the poorly regulated Losenji, prospering for its access to the diverse and exotic variety of 'exports' that Westeria offered. Short of confronting the entire gang, there was little anyone could do about it.

Despite this unfortunate fact of life, the syndicate had never been so brazen as to publicly acknowledge that trade. So the fact that one of them was brazenly selling a living woman - aschen or not - in the middle of the street? It was nothing short of sickening.

"Bastard," Rune hissed, brimming with barely contained anger. "I should go over there and-"

"Wait, Rune." Talys put a calming hand on his friend's shoulder, as his shadow began to grow threateningly. "We can't take on the entire Red Dragon."

"So we just let them get away with this?" The fetchling rounded on him with a furious glare, clenching his fists, but his shadow did shrink back down to normal. Talys suppressed a sigh of relief. Rune had plenty of personal reasons to take issue with slavery, but they couldn't afford to draw the ire of the Syndicate. Not if they wanted to stay here. Besides...

"No," Talys shook his head. "But I trust Sun. She wouldn't endorse something like this. Let's wait until we have a chance to talk to her, before we consider doing anything drastic."

"Fine," Rune relaxed his posture slightly, though he turned back to glare daggers in Jyunichi's direction from beneath his hood. "But we're not letting anyone keep slaves. That's not becoming a thing. I don't care how much stability they're providing, if they start trying to make that normal..." He trailed off into grim silence.

Talys couldn't help but agree with the sentiment. But at this point, hurting the Red Dragon too much would be hurting everyone under their protection. They just had to hope that the gang wouldn't get too out of control with their newfound authority.

Because relying on a crime syndicate to do the right thing was a great plan, right?
 
as written by Script

A short while later, back at the supply stations.

"Is that Sun?"

Talys turned to look where Rune had gestured as they arrived, taking in the scene that was unfolding. The woman with a collar round her neck, and the ration cards being handed over to the man holding the chain it was attached to. He frowned. It was a poorly kept secret that the Red Dragons were involved with the human trafficking business. Little Shintenchi was an important thoroughfare for the trade that thrived in the poorly regulated Losenji, prospering for its access to the diverse and exotic variety of 'exports' that Westeria offered. Short of confronting the entire gang, there was little anyone could do about it.

Despite this unfortunate fact of life, the syndicate had never been so brazen as to publicly acknowledge that trade. So the fact that one of them was brazenly selling a living woman - aschen or not - in the middle of the street? It was nothing short of sickening.

"Bastard," Rune hissed, brimming with barely contained anger. "I should go over there and-"

"Wait, Rune." Talys put a calming hand on his friend's shoulder, as his shadow began to grow threateningly. "We can't take on the entire Red Dragon."

"So we just let them get away with this?" The fetchling rounded on him with a furious glare, clenching his fists, but his shadow did shrink back down to normal. Talys suppressed a sigh of relief. Rune had plenty of personal reasons to take issue with slavery, but they couldn't afford to draw the ire of the Syndicate. Not if they wanted to stay here. Besides...

"No," Talys shook his head. "But I trust Sun. She wouldn't endorse something like this. Let's wait until we have a chance to talk to her, before we consider doing anything drastic."

"Fine," Rune relaxed his posture slightly, though he turned back to glare daggers in Jyunichi's direction from beneath his hood. "But we're not letting anyone keep slaves. That's not becoming a thing. I don't care how much stability they're providing, if they start trying to make that normal..." He trailed off into grim silence.

Talys couldn't help but agree with the sentiment. But at this point, hurting the Red Dragon too much would be hurting everyone under their protection. They just had to hope that the gang wouldn't get too out of control with their newfound authority.

Because relying on a crime syndicate to do the right thing was a great plan, right?
 
as written by barney_fife

Jyunichi nodded somewhat in approval, before he took the ration cards. The Red Dragon lieutenant really had no need for ration cards, and often traded them for things such as weapons, ammunition, and what few things he could find here on Valore. The man was Taiyou by birth, from Niihama, born and raised in sector 2, and there were still a great many things about Valore, and little Shintenchi that confounded and confused the man.

After taking the ration cards, Jyunichi nodded in approval.

"All yours." He replied, and then handed Sun the chain. "I beat the fight out of her, so she should be broken in for you." He said. "Just don't turn your back, sneaky bitch tried to escape the first couple nights."

Once the transaction was completed, Jyunichi turned away, and started to move away from Sun, while letting his gaze move over to Sam.

He lifted his dark glasses a moment to reveal his eyes, and then he winked at her just once, before he turned to walk away.

---

The young medic looked up at Sun, her eyes were red from exhaustion, tired and broken. She looked back down to the ground as she kept on all fours.

For the young medic, the hunger pangs were a fact of life these days; the last month had seen meals being few and far between, especially since the rest of her squad had been killed by bands of marauders, and the last week had been spent in the custody of the Taiyou, brutalized, raped, and beaten by the thugs of the Red Dragon syndicate.

She expected nothing better from the woman that purchased her for what looked like ration cards. Imperial Propaganda taught that these savages would stop at nothing to savage the citizens of the Empire.

She was too weak to keep fighting though, the hunger pangs returned, and her stomach growled.

Anxiety washed over her and the woman's world began to spin. She went from being on all fours, to curling into the fetal position, chains rustling as she quietly sobbed.
 
as written by Steph

Sam had continued her work, carrying around a distracted mind - something unusual for the woman. Cursing her thoughts, she decided a break would only serve her well. Hands clasped the edge of the trucks door at the very top, Sam effortlessly lifted herself into a series of pull ups. The exertion of physical activity often cleared her mind, enveloped her thoughts in a comfortable haze. Adrenaline helped her focus on every muscles in her body and nothing else.

Is that what I'm gonna so the rest of my life, carry around fuckin' boxes so lazy assholes don't have to do it? Somewhere along the way, her pride faded and all that was left was stubbornness. She traded the brain-washing and sheep-following to do the same thing out of her own free will. It pissed her off that she had just decided to realize this fact. She really wanted to punt someone's head off - also, probably, a side-effect of adrenaline.

Sam dropped down, her breath considerably hitched. She leaned back against the truck's wall. The service tattoo on the inside of her forearm gleaming with sweat. She gritted her teeth, making a note that she needed this cow-brand covered up as soon as possible. Sighing, Sam closed her eyes and repeatedly hit the back of her head against the wall. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck." Sam so elegantly and poetically spoke. Though crass in nature, it held a meaning of desperation and illustrated the dangers of fighting with one's own mind.

"Fine. I get it." she spoke aloud to no one. A passerby gave her a look and she didn't even bother flipping him off. The woman stepped down from the truck and marched with a new purpose in mind. She had never liked running supply runs as they reminded her too much of her time of service, yet the purpose was different, and that had to mean something at least. It was her choice to risk her life for others and having been broken to think her servitude to her government was a fair trade off for them letting her live - even if you call it that - was probably the worst case of Stockholm syndrome anyone could ever have. One that plagues many individuals.

Determined, Sam grabbed the sandwich she had packed for her lunch. No mustard and no onions, of course. Food comes before business and man did she love satiating her hunger. She all but devoured the sandwich, discarding the greasy paper into a pedestrian's face when she was done. The woman looked to be clearly Loseynu, even behind the mayo stains on her face. She heard something that sounded a lot like cunt before she disappeared behind the heavy traffic of bodies as she crossed the street. Conveniently, the supply posts were close by.

She had attempted to come up with something to tell Hachiro, but everything came out like it usually does; a whole lot of tactless with a hint of crass. Once the woman had reached the stations she stopped a volunteer, distracting them from their work to ask if she had seen the man in question. "You seen him? Looks like an asshole, talks like an asshole." The woman frowned. "What? That not specific enough for you?"

With an exasperated sigh, Sam pushed passed her thinking he shouldn't be that hard to find - there was barely anyone here. Unless you're one of those who like to think three's a crowd. Like Sam for example.
 
as written by Tiko

Indeed Hachiro wasn't far from Sam, having only just crossed to the other side of the street. Also aiding Sam's search was the fact that the drop-off side of the street was sparsely populated, unlike the crowds packing the distribution side of it. When Hachiro had said they were short on runners, he hadn't exaggerated the matter. Only a handful of people were working on unloading and inventorying newly deposited supplies.

Once Sam exited the crowds and crossed the street, Hachiro would be easy to spot chatting with Talys, Rune, and Adriaan.

____

"Supplies are good for now," Hachiro answered Talys. "The Red Dragon Syndicate is still sending teams out, but most of the immediate surrounding areas have been stripped already. We need more people venturing into the unsecure districts."

"I wouldn't ask you guys to head out again so soon, but if we don't get more supplies coming in we're going to start running short on medicine and food within a month. Pharmacies aren't getting shipments anymore, so what's out there in the city is what we've got until we can get some sort of trade system setup to bring things in from outside Westeria City. I've got a guy working on that, but no headway yet."
 
as written by Tiko

Meanwhile Sun saw to the Aschen medic as she knelt down to pull the woman to her feet, not by the chain but by her arm. Before she could rise though a small child had separated from the crowd to take wary steps forward. Too young to understand war and racism the young child - with shaky hand - held out a small bottle of water to the sobbing woman.

He had scarcely made it within a few feet though before he was jerked away by his mother.

"But m-"

"It's none of our business," a woman's voice was heard as the two disappeared back into the crowd.

Sun watched a moment before her eyes shifted to the fallen bottle that lay upon the ground. She picked it up and held it for the aschen woman to take as she stood up, pulling the medic to her feet to try and guide her through the crowd, and out of the ration stations.
 
as written by Steph

Sam easily spotted Hachiro whom was engaged in a conversation with three others. She might have seen them before, but no face seemed familiar to her. With a frown on her face, the woman walked up to the group, yet her eyes were glued on the leading man. "That's it?" She asked incredulously, eyes wide. "Christ, when you said you were low on runners I didn't think you had less than a soccer team." What the fuck did I just get myself into? "The fuck-" The woman stopped herself in mid sentence - something not usually this easily accomplished. The heat in her body was already buzzing - heart beating quicker - and truthfully she didn't know why was this pissed off.

Perhaps it was the fact that Hachiro didn't make it out to be such a big deal when clearly they're struggling. Or rather, she just wasn't really listening to him, cocooned up in her own stubbornness. She could have spotted the worry lines prominent around his face, and the way his shoulders and back were set tightly.

There was also the dangerous and scary prospect of having others depend her, and the team, to get supplies they needed.

The biggest catalyst to her anger, however, was that she was here for one reason only and that's reason made her want to puke - she cared, and she absolutely hated that emotion. Anger was easy, and it was her go-to. Sam realized you could be angry for good reasons, and no apparent reason at all, and there was once a time where it kept other emotions at bay. Her military instructor and mentor was big on using anger to fuel skill and concentration. To rid one's mind of fear altogether to gain the ability to jump into a hornet's nest without a second thought. Yet, that wasn't her life anymore and hadn't been for a long time.

Sam took a deep calming breath, exhausting some air before she continued: "You're right - I'm a gigantic asshole the size of a moon crater and I'm willing to run for you." Sam sighed again as her eyes jumped from person to person. "Yeah?"
 
as written by Script

"Well, until then, we'll do what we can." Talys said, glancing across at Adriaan. "If we find a way to get in touch with your Vanguard, hopefully they can help on that front. If we-"

He cut off, as a new arrival barrelled into the conversation with all guns blazing. He thought he recognised the woman from a few past encounters in passing. Her particular brand of abrasiveness was memorable enough that though they'd never exchanged words, he knew her by reputation. Sun had certainly had plenty of words about her after she got herself barred from the dojo. "I'm going to go out on a limb here and guess that you're Sam." Talys gave the woman an appraising glance over. She certainly looked the part of a former soldier, and if she'd decided to come around to helping out, she'd probably be an asset, and if she could avoid putting too much emphasis on the ass in that, that would just be a plus.

"Hachiro's mentioned you in passing a couple of times. I'm Talys." He bowed his head to her politely before continuing. "I don't think we've met, but I've heard a little about you." A small smile, at that, not quite adequately masked.

It was possible that Sam had heard his name before, if she'd spent much time with the other members of the Ming Dojo before being barred. Talys had been both a dance and a martial arts instructor before the attacks, a close friend of the dojo's owner, and generally well liked within the community. His unique style of blending combat and dance was unusual, to say the least, but surprisingly effective.

Beside him, Rune also nodded his acknowledgement of the mercenary, his expression difficult to read - shrouded as it was by his hood. His alabaster skin tone marked him clearly as something other than human, but this was Westeria - that was hardly uncommon. After a moment, the small furry snout of Caedmon poked its way out of his pocket, and the weasel scampered up to find a better vantage point on his shoulder. "Rune," he offered. "That's uh, quite the resume you've got there. I don't know that it's what I'd go with, but hey, whatever works for you."
 
as written by barney_fife

The medic didn't speak a lick of common, and that made things all the more difficult for her, the taiyou and common words as alien as anything else as people spoke.

Offering a water bottle was a universal gesture, even if she thought she was simply being put on display as a spectacle for everyone to watch.

The bottle was outstretched as Sun tried to help the woman to her feet, but the mother snatched the child, causing the aschen woman to recoil slightly, pulling away from Sun and the water bottle. She licked her dry, parched lips but did not move away from Sun, having vividly remembered the beatings Jyunichi had given her.

The woman hesitantly took the bottle, thinking it was some kind of trick, thinking the bottle would simply be ripped away, Jyunichi did similar things afterall, laughing at the frustrated medic before beating her.

But the bottle eventually found its way into her hands; and she looked at Sun with slight confusion.

Her voice was hoarse from screaming and crying, but she managed to choke out a single word, mangled by weakness and thirst.

"Gratius." She said quietly; before opening the bottle and guzzling the contents with such ferocity, the water was gone in seconds. But with the days of being without food or water, her stomach heaved and the water she just consumed was expelled onto the ground at Sun's feet, weakness overtook her, but she allowed herself to be pulled away from the ration station.
 
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