darkSpyro

Summary:
You’ve moved to Xtorxia-- a metropolitan planet where goods and services abound-- within the last 50 years of its opening to the public beyond InterGAP itself. The world is almost like an embassy, in its own unique way, offering individuals across the galaxy cluster a place to live, work, and function as an asset to society; by extension, they will learn the values of InterGAP’s evolved culture and assist the greater cause of assimilating all sapient life. It’s a dark universe out there, and someone needs to be the light that guides them through it. But that isn’t your place; you’re a humble taxpayer, with your standard by-the-hour job and predictable schedule. It may be less glamorous, but it’s certainly no less crucial to the cause.
That being said, whether or not that cause matters to you is irrelevant. As long as you do your job and stay in your place, all will be well. That’s a guarantee.


Rules:

• Basic forum and RP rules apply here. No excessive swearing and content wildly inappropriate for a forum about a purple dragon. No godmodding, metagaming, OP characters, etc. You know the drill.
  
• Keep OOC topics and disagreements civil. We run a respectable city, here!
  
• Your character(s) is an alien of your choosing. It's somewhat preferred that you make up your own species rather than use one from a licensed concept, but I won't fuss if you choose the latter.
  
• Your character(s) is a citizen. That means, they aren't currently part of the colonization of other planets InterGAP is funding. All must have an occupation that keeps them within the city at most hours, and all must be within reasonable distance of the other player characters (ie, an hour’s walk or so).
  
• Your character can’t have any big, major advantages over other alien species. You're a typical, run-of-the-mill person. You can have special abilities, like flying, weak telekinesis, intelligence, or great strength, stuff like that. But you can't be, like, a light goddess with the ability to annihilate the planet with power of the sun. You get my jive.
  
• Don't start out with a whole bunch of characters. You can add more on as the story progresses, if you can keep up with them all, but at most start with 1-3 main characters. The beginning of the story is going to be heavily character-driven, so having too many to start with can over-complicate things.

Character Sheet:
Name:
Age: (Earth years to give us Earthlings a general idea, and the current stage of development(young adult, older adult, etc.). You can add whatever you wish regarding this)
Gender: (Male, female, genderless, hermaphrodite, whatever, it's a bunch of aliens)
Species: (Give us the name, basic anatomy, culture, and/or whatever you deem necessary to bring up)
Occupation: (May or may not be as glamorous as braving the wilds of the galaxies beyond, but that’s up for you to decide.)
Appearance and Attire: (How is your character different from the rest of their species? And what do they generally wear?)
Personality:
Brief History:
Quote: (What do they have to say about their lives on the fine world of Xtorxia?)

(Please delete all my parenthesis when you submit your sheet. It's harder to read otherwise)


Additional Notes:

• For those lovely users who’re coming from the original RP (ie, probably almost everyone), I must announce that the Conquestican Empire has now been scrapped. As you can see, there’s now a different drive behind the story. However, if the backstory of your character depended on the existence of a violent nation wreaking havoc on other worlds, feel free to create your own lore. It’s a big universe out there; just be sure it doesn’t try to interfere with daily life.
  
• You still can’t currently have a human character. To keep the reasoning vague, I can only say that they don’t have the means to reach Xtorxia.

Name: Ixl

Age: 12 Earth years; has the mental and rationale capacities of a human 17-year-old

Gender: Male

Species: He's a Zikn, a species of insectoid aliens. Zikn have a generally humanoid structure, but are clearly built like that of an insect. They have a long, segmented head built similar to a dragonfly's, with small mandibles, two sets of eyes (two large main ones, and two secondary ones over the main ones), and two short, fuzzy antennae. The neck is short and segmented, and connects to the thorax, which is basically the chest. Unlike insects, they only have one pair of arms. They have a pair of short, jagged wings, which allow them short, limited flight time. The lower torso is like the neck, being segmented and thin, only much longer. It connects to the abdomen, which is similar to human hips, and has a short, fleshy tail that looks like what an actual insect abdomen would be. The tail has slits that release a kind of tear gas as a defense mechanism. They have one pair of long legs. Their hands and feet are of the same structure. They're segmented, with two fingers, and two thumbs on opposite sides. Zikn are typically very tall, ranging from 6-8 feet. Coloring is usually a mix of greys, muted reds, and light pinks. Zikn are known to be a docile species, generally keeping to themselves but not going out of their way to avoid other creatures. They're herbivorous.

Occupation: Accountant

Appearance and Attire: He's 7'1, extremely thin and lanky, and not physically strong. He's a sort of greyish-pink color, his eyes being light pink, and his antennae and wings being a see-through, iridescent black. He normally wears well-fitting jackets and dress pants and shoes, usually in grey, white, or black.

Personality: Ixl doesn't really know what he's doing. He's only been a part of Xtorxia life-- or any society, for that matter-- for five years. Therefore, it comes as no surprise that he's clueless about how things work outside of his tiny circle. That doesn't deter him from finding his own way, however, as he's hopelessly curious about anything that intrigues or confuses him, which is pretty much everything at the moment. He's notorious for getting himself into bad situations, and even making them worse at times due to his lack of understanding regarding most things. That being said, he has his friendly disposition in his favor; while not overtly trusting, he doesn't have a mean bone in his body (or any bones, technically, but we're talking in metaphorics here), and his willingness to take responsibility for his actions, despite being bred from ignorance, keeps him from making enemies. He's also a quick learner, which is a massive relief to everyone around him.

Brief History: He lived his entire life on Xtorxia, spending 7 years of his life underground as a larvae until arriving into society as a physically matured adult. He's been doing his current job since he burrowed out of the city's agricultural district; how he managed to land it despite having zero experience is a long story.

Quote: "My boss told me I should get out more last week, but then she yelled at me for 'causing a scene'. I mean, how was I supposed to know that lighting fireworks in that abandoned warehouse could be considered arson? I didn't even know what arson was until the cops came over."

Name: Programmed Police Investigator Prototype (PIP)

Age: 28

Gender: Genderless

Species: Robot: Some might consider PIP to be an android, given its humanoid shape, but PIP could never pass as an organic lifeform. It is skeletal in appearance, its metal workings and inner wirings very clearly exposed at its joints. It has dull white, plastic-like plating that protects its inner workings. Its eyes are optics. PIP is a prototype robot, with a personality of a police officer programmed into it. All of the laws of society are part of its very coding, making PIP completely by the book when it comes to policing. It has no other function, so it has spent its twenty-eight years doing police work. Just like any piece of technology, it can be reprogrammed if it falls into the wrong hands. It has several security measures put in place to prevent such a thing, but should someone know what they're doing, it would be at risk. Its voice is just as robotic as its appearance.

Occupation: Police Officer

Appearance and Attire: PIP is skeletal in appearance, standing at 5'8 and having little "meat" on it. Its plastic skin is white in color, having dulled over the years due to age. At its joints and abdomen one can see its inner workings, and its neck is completely exposed to allow for movement. Its eyes are simple optics. As for its apparel, it wears a police uniform, complete with the hat and badge.

Personality: PIP is a no nonsense kind of individual. It takes its job very seriously, and it always seems to have a contemplative frown on its face. It has little tolerance for those who break the law, and especially those criminals who try to run away from it. It is a very calm individual, assuming it's not in hot pursuit of a criminal. Over its life, it claims that it has seen "everything" there is to see in the police force.

Brief History: Created in a laboratory, PIP's introduction to life was basically, "Report for duty." And it did.

Quote: "Dammit, Cardinali, you can't just break into someone's house without a warrant!"

Name: Chuligan the Fleet

Age: 72 (young adult)

Gender: Male

Species: The Aligor are a species of humanoid, octopus-like creatures. They possess damp, orangish skin with goat-like eyes, which vary in color. Instead of hair, they have long tentacles that flow down their backs, which can move and work like arms. Their main pair of arms stem from their shoulders like humans' arms, though their hands are clawed. The Aligor lack a nose, and they have two mouths. One is for eating, which is located in the center of their chest, and the other is for speaking. The mouth that is for eating is actually a hole in their chest with a beak concealed inside, which extends slightly when feeding. Aside from these octopus-like traits, the Aligor are largely humanoid in appearance. Octopus-like in their ability to squeeze through small openings, there's no where that's really off limits to an Aligor.

Occupation: Gangster. He has a cover job as a bartender.

Appearance and Attire: Chuligan stands at about 5'10, with the pastel orangish skin that pertains to his kind and yellow eyes with black pupils. The tentacles down his back end at about his knees. He changes his clothes to fit whatever he's going for in a particular moment, which could range from a suit and tie to nothing at all. Regardless of what he's wearing, he has a habit of having jewelry on his person, ranging from necklaces to rings on his fingers and tentacles.

Personality: Chuligan is quite the little rascal. Like his clothes, his personality changes depending on what he feels will prove the most beneficial to him. Much of the time, however, this usually translates to an arrogant, rather silly, and admittedly flirtatious individual. If it's capable of speech, he's probably hit on it one time or another. Incredibly clever, Chuligan is exceptionally good at reading people and uses this to his advantage whenever possible. He can't quite stop the flirting, however, and it tends to get him in trouble more often than not.

Brief History: Chuligan was raised in what might as well be Xtorxia's own little Mafia, so he's very used to the life that was thrust at him.

Quote: "What can I say, handsome? Guilty as charged? You know me better than that."

OOC: Accepted!


Name: Constabali "Tabby" Cardinali

Age: 54 (young adult, as the average lifespan is 200 years)

Gender: Female

Species: Corvonian; a bipedal, bird-like race with a large variety of subspecies and a typically social disposition. They aren't very common on Xtorxia due to the far proximity of their homeworld. (species credit goes to Wylrin)

Occupation: Private Investigator

Appearance and Attire: Standing at a mere 2’6 feet, she has a short and petite build, not quite fragile but not particularly hardy. She’s covered in soft, fawn colored feathers, ending at the elbows and knees. The rest of her arms and legs are covered in light coral scales, each hand and foot possessing five digits. She has a small crest on her head that raises and flattens as part of her body language, its feathers being more reddish in color. Her face is encased in a keratin mask connecting to the beak, the mask being black and the beak coral. Her eyes are a caramel brown.
Her general attire consists of a blouse, a blazer, a skirt, and a pair of high heels. Her wardrobe always features bright and vibrant colors, and she has a fondness for floral patterns. Her favorite accessory is a light gray fedora.

Personality: Chipper and bubbly, she’s immensely enthusiastic about her job, and treats each case like it’s “her first and last”, as she likes to put it. She’s very bold and practically fearless when it comes to reaching her goals, whether they be long- or short-term. Her boundless energy can be a bit much to deal with, not to mention her stubbornness and bossiness when it comes to making things go her way, but it ensures that she’s very efficient and thorough with her work. She finds it easy to connect the dots and draw reasonable conclusions.

Brief History: Her childhood was spent with an extended family consisting of a single mother, four sisters, and uncle and an aunt with their two sons, and a grandmother. They inherited a plot of land for farming from her father, which they all carried their own respective weight for. For as long as she can remember, she’s had a deep fascination with detective work, and strove for her own spot in the big picture for many years, undergoing a long educational process to get to where she is now. Her family is very supportive of her goals, and they keep in frequent contact. She and her husband left their homeworld to work on Xtorxia one year ago. The local law enforcement hasn't been particularly fond of her questionable methods, however; she has consistently done things an honest, law-abiding PI should never do.

Quote: "There's trouble afoot. Always trouble afoot. Y'know, they'll always tell you that this town is safe, that nothing could go wrong. But no! Just the other day, I was on my way back from the coffee shop-- y'know how it is-- and all I had to do was peak down an alleyway and BAM! A couple of no-good-doers smuggling Gstrotinan silk! Y'know how bad things would be if someone just let a bunch of miscreants parade undocumented linens all over the city? Well? The economy! The economy depends on those taxes, and when they don't get them, you don't get to go get your espresso fix because some JERK ruined it for everyone!"


Name: Qionrad Cardinali

Age: 50

Gender: Male

Species: Corvonian

Occupation: Cashier

Appearance and Attire: Similar to Constabali, save for some notable differences. He’s a taller 2’10, with a slightly thicker, chubbier build. His feathers are more voluminous and are a vivid red, and his keratin and scales are bright orange rather than coral. He has dark brown eyes. His throat down to his chest and the tip of his crest is black.
He usually wears simple and casual clothes; pair of capri trousers, a buttoned shirt, and a pair of slip-ons. They’re usually of muted, solid colors.

Personality: He’s quite bashful and easy to frighten, but he can hardly be considered distant. He has a strong drive to help and be there for other people, and has a sweet, gentle disposition. He's dense and not particularly bright, easily putting his trust anyone who seems remotely civilized, often to the point of being downright gullible. On the other hand, he'll run for cover at the slightest hint of danger, dragging everyone he can with him in the process.

Brief History: Qionrad's a bit of an oddity in his family; among a long line of devout clergymen, he decided to forgo the tradition of undergoing many years of study in favor of being whisked away by his wife on her own pursuits. A friend since childhood, and a partner for many years, he was only more than a year ago married to her, as she spent much of her college education in a facility offworld and was unable to devote time to much else. Ever since their legal binding, Qionrad has been her shadow, devoutly sticking to her side to this day.

Quote: "Please tell my wife to come home, it's two AM and that's a bad side of town."

Name: Krie

Age: 23, young adult

Gender: Female

Species: She is a Tuvivara. They are mostly humanoid in appearance, with a round, bulky body type being most common. They always have fur, which is most commonly black but can be any shade of grey. They generally range from 4 to 6 feet in height when standing on their hind legs, but they can comfortably change to a more quadrupedal form. They have large, padded, cat-like paws with retractable claws on both their upper and lower limbs. Instead of ears on their heads where they would normally be, they have a pair of long, flimsy looking, flexible arms with a more human-like hand instead of paws. They can retract these arms so that only the hand part is visible. When retracted, the hands generally stay flat against the head, almost blending in or appearing to be a set of floppy ears. While they are nearly completely covered in fur, their face isn't, appearing to be just bone. They have a seemingly permanent Cheshire cat-like grin full of sharp teeth, and a pair of bright cat-like eyes that can be a wide range of colors. With their face having a more skeletal look, it almost appears to be a mask, rather than actually being a part of the body. They have a thick, fluffy tail that appears to have an almost draconian looking skull at the end of it. The skull has a big jaw full of sharp teeth, and a pair of glowing eyes that almost appear to be nothing more than little orbs of light, which always match the color of their other set of eyes. The skull also commonly has horns, which can be different for each Tuvivara. The tail can also retract so that only the skull part is visible, and can grow to equal the length of the body.
Tuvivara are actually completely mute, unable to make a single sound. To communicate, they use telepathy. While they can freely share their own thoughts with anyone in range, they can also block others' from invading their own mind if they wish to have privacy. However, they can't manipulate others' thoughts and memories, or use telekinesis to move items with their minds. Telepathy is simply an alternate form of communication, nothing more. While Tuvivara don't have the best hearing, they can understand others when they speak, given that they know the language. They simply can't reply with a speaking voice.
The Tuvivara are a scavenger race and are fairly resilient when it comes to food. They aren't picky eaters at all, and will typically eat anything they find that they deem edible. This pretty much consists of anything their teeth can bite through, and their teeth have a powerful bite force. Their stomachs are practically ironclad, able to digest basically anything their teeth can chew up. They're even immune to poison, making it incredibly difficult to get them drunk, if even possible. They can also handle a lot of strange food combinations without getting sick or food poisoning. It's believed that they don't even have taste buds. They also tend to have big appetites.

Occupation: She works in retail, stocking shelves and unloading trucks mainly.

Appearance and Attire: She is about 5'8 when standing on her hind legs, with the standard body type. She has jet black fur and yellow eyes. The tail skull has a pair of horns on the side of its head that curve forward, following the jawline. She wears a long, simple, eggplant purple cloak that wraps around her and nearly covers her body. The cloak also has a hood that she usually has up, covering most of her face. The cloak seems to cover everything but her tail. When she's relaxed and not doing much, her arms and tail will generally be fully retracted. She'll usually only extend them if she needs to. She also tends to walk on all fours most of the time, only rising up on her hind legs when she deems it necessary.

Personality: Krie generally keeps to herself, but she's actually pretty friendly. She likes being around people, it's just that her social skills aren't the best. For one reason or another, she always seems to have trouble making friends. Either someone is unnerved by her, offended at her invasion of privacy, or they just don't seem willing to get to know her. To make matters worse, she can be rather oblivious and unaware of what the problem is.

Brief History: Krie has lived in Xtorxia all her life. It's the only home she's ever known. Her parents moved here before she was even born, so she's only heard stories of their homeworld, and has never seen it for herself.

Quote: "..." "Life's pretty simple. Can't complain, aside from it being a bit dull. But hey, like my dad always told me, boring is safe. You just have to look at the positive side of things and appreciate what you got."

OOC: Accepted! I suppose three is enough, and if anyone else decides joining they can pop in whenever. Do you want to continue from the bar scene, or start the day over?

Edit: So Cynder09 and Wylrin and I agreed to restart the bar scene, so here's the starting post, which is just me copy and pasting because I'm lazy.


~~~


"I'm sure glad I don't drink," Ixl had said to himself not minutes beforehand. And yet, here he was peering his head into the establishment, his four pastel eyes darting across the place. Although not so apparent in his face, as it was largely set in stone due to the hard carapace encasing it, his mild apprehension was clear in how he stood frozen in the door's entrance long after the little bell had chimed. He had heard bad things about bars. Stories of violent brawls, alcohol poisoning, blaring ambulances parking on the curb to attend to both... Well, most of those were exaggerations, Ixl was sure. People had a way of making things sound worse than they actually were. They always had a way of making things sound better, as well; such as, how one person had met their best friend at a bar and were inseparable since. In fact, it was this story that had prompted the insectoid's decision to even set foot into this particular place.

Ixl was concerned that his social life might have been stagnating, as most of the company he associated with were directly from his work and others who shared the apartment building he lived in. In other words, his friends were from encounters that were already bound to happen. He had idly wondered what could come of meeting someone who had no impact on his daily life; perhaps, admittedly, because it was easy to grow bored and weary of how synchronized and predictable it was. After expressing this fleeting desire, someone had recommended this place in particular. She said it was "hopping with activity every night" and that "he'd make a friend or two in no time". Maybe she was here this very night if she had such a high opinion of it. The thought of this placated his nerves for a moment, until he realized that would mean he would probably only spend time with her instead of the whole reason for coming here. No, this had to be an adventure. He was going to meet some new people and--

They were already looking at him! Were they going to say something and start a conversation? Maybe they-- Wait, why were they frowning?

"Oh!" Laughing-- a sound more akin to a cricket-like chirp-- at his own blunder, he closed the door behind him after having stood in the entrance for who knows how long. "Sorry. Letting flies in." Hoping that they'd find his awkward arrival charming instead of annoying-- that was a potential outcome, right?-- Ixl almost idled again just trying to decide where to sit. Should he go to the front and order something? But he didn't like the taste of those drinks. They burned. Who would want to drink something that hurt? Maybe they served water? Would that make him look out of place? Would that be a good thing or a bad thing? Maybe he should sit at one of the empty tables first? Would that make him look out of place? Would that be a-- Shoot! People were so hard to predict!

Sighing and knowing full well that standing there wondering wasn't going to get him anywhere, he decided to stride over to an unoccupied table and seat himself there. That way he could observe the people familiar with this place and gauge how to behave from a safe distance, right? He'd have to see. Making a ball with his hands and resting his chin on it, Ixl started to do just that.

It had been a long day. Of course, any day was most likely a long day when you're a police officer, but today had been a particularly long one. Well, actually that wasn't quite true. See, for a robot, time goes by at the same speed regardless of whether or not it is enjoyable. So perhaps for an organic individual it would have been a long day, but for PIP, it was just another usual day. Though admittedly, it had been one of the harder days. Between keeping track of Cardinali, running into a posse of gang members downtown, hearing out reports of a kidnapping... Well, it hadn't been easy. Any normal person probably would have gone to bed the moment they were off duty, but not the robot. No, it was instead keeping an eye on the situation in one of the local bars. While not on duty, it still wore its uniform to dissuade any bar fights or the like. Basically it was maintaining peace and order with its presence.

It stood leaning against one of the walls of the bar, out of the way but still within everyone's line of sight to remind them that it was there. It stood with its arms crossed, its optics surveying the bar and its occupants. Upon the arrival of a new individual, PIP looked in the direction of the door, blinking its optics when it saw that it recognized who it was. Ixl was his name, if memory served it right, which it always did; the robot was not capable of forgetting. It would have to sustain damage to its positronic brain for it to forget even the smallest, most insignificant of things. Bringing its thoughts from its memory to its surroundings again, the robot watched as the young man stood there in the open doorway for a while. Perhaps he wasn't accustomed to such a setting. Good. That should be one less person to worry about getting in serious trouble, then. Then again, who knew with this one? This was the same individual who had lit fireworks in the abandoned warehouse not far from here. He had seemed just as ignorant of his actions then as he did now.

As Ixl went to sit by himself, the prototype watched him for a few moments. Anyone else might have joined a familiar face, but PIP still considered itself on duty. It had work to do that didn't involve going to sit with someone. No, it had to keep an optic on everyone here, especially that bartender...


...Speak of the devil, Chuligan was wiping down the counter of his bar. Though this was really just to keep his hands busy while he subtly watched the bar's inhabitants. A good bartender always kept an eye on his patrons, and a gangster such as himself also benefitted from watching people and overhearing their conversations. And with booze to loosen everyone's lips, it made his real job all the easier. Every so often he would raise his head to glance at the cop standing against the opposite wall. A smirk on his face, he would simply return to his cleaning. The cop's presence hardly deterred him, even if PIP was more persistent than most coppers in the city. If there was a cop Chuligan respected, it was the robot. Of course, respect didn't mean he was going to be completely lawful in its presence. He just happened to find PIP competent. That didn't mean it posed a threat to him, though. No sir.

Upon the little bell at the door ringing, the Aligor allowed himself to divert his gaze from the cop and instead look to the newcomer. Said newcomer looked like a fish out of water, poor thing. Suppressing a grin, he watched the man stand there for several long moments before actually walking to an empty table. Oh, well that won't do. Walking around the bar to come to a stand near Ixl, Chuligan said, "Well what do we have here? Fresh blood in my little ole bar? Nice to meet you, sunshine. You wanna drink?"

Name: Dima Dilok

Age: 37

Gender: Male

Species: Cardassian - http://memory-alpha.wikia.com/wiki/Cardassian

Occupation: Cultural/Social Anthropologist

Appearance and Attire: Dima is short for a Cardassian, standing at a mere 5'5 and with a slight build that is also uncommon for Cardassians. Like most Cardassians, his hair is jet black and is swept back in the predominant military style, though he often tries out different hairstyles. His eyes are a pale blue. As for his apparel, he normally wears a long coat of some sort, as his reptilian nature makes him vulnerable to the cold. He'll wear just about anything so long as it's warm, and likes trying out new clothes from different cultures. People tend to think of him as a cosplayer since he wears certain clothes out of context.

Personality: A bit of an eccentric fellow, Dima is fascinated by even the simplest aspects of another's culture. He often tries to integrate other cultures and ideas into his own lifestyle, which at times yields questionable results. Curious and open-minded, though perhaps a bit gullible, he's the sort of person who wants everyone to like him and be his friend, and can't stand having an enemy. Dima is the sort who will try pretty much anything, even if it's something he knows he won't necessarily like, simply to try something new and foreign. Aside from his strange quirks, he is a very solemn individual, except for the times he gets overly too excited about a particular aspect of someone's culture.

Brief History: Back on his homeworld, Cardassia Prime, the whole "knowledge for knowledge's sake" approach is frowned upon, something that simply wouldn't do for Dima. Not wanting to pursue a military career like most young men of Cardassia did, he instead pursued one of knowledge, taking a particular interest in others' cultures. He has come to Xtorxia to see all there is to see and to study its inhabitants and their traditions.

Quote: "Salmakt. Oh, how silly of me. The traditional greeting is "hello," yes? You'll have to pardon my ignorance. I am not yet well versed in other cultures."

OOC: Accepted!

Krie was sitting at the bar, her back to the counter while she surveyed the rest of the room. She tapped her paws on her knees to the beat of the music playing, while the skull at the end of her tail picked up a glass and downed another drink. She had already lost track of how many she had, not that it mattered, since she was immune to the effects. She was a regular bar attendee, especially at this one in particular. She had a habit of sitting at the counter, talking to the bartender while downing a few drinks.

She was about to order another drink, when she noticed another customer come in. The insectoid alien seemed unfamiliar with bars, since they just sort of stood there, and even neglected to close the door. That didn't bother Krie, though. If anything, she was curious as to why they would come here if they didn't normally visit bars. A fly buzzed over towards her and the skull turned to watch the insect fly around. As it drew closer, the skull snapped at it, trapping it in it's powerful jaws. The skull made a swallowing motion and then seemed to look for seconds. When no more flies seemed to dare come any closer, the skull turned back to the counter and rested on top of it. Its eyes were on the bartender, until he left his previous position behind the counter.

The Tuvivara watched as Chuligan approached the insectoid that had just come in. She figured he was probably just greeting the new customer and offering him a drink, accompanied by his usual charm. Since the insectoid seemed unfamiliar to the place, Krie wondered if they would be drinking alone, or if they were meeting a friend there. This didn't seem like the kind of place they usually came to, so why would they decide to come all of a sudden? Maybe they could use a drinking buddy, and Krie was willing to volunteer herself.

Krie opened up a mental link with the insectoid, "Hey, is it alright if I join you? It's more fun to drink with others, rather than alone." She kept watch from where she sat at the counter, and gave a wave with her paw to get their attention and also give a greeting.

Upon the bartender's approach and subsequent greeting, the Zikn turned in his seat to properly face him. Relief was evident in his tone as he promptly replied, "Yes-- um, hello! I'll... uh..." The hard shell of his arm clinked against the table as he leaned on it, an attempt to appear casual after the awkwardness of his long pause. "What would you recommend to a first-timer?"

Ixl was expecting to be the one to initiate a conversation, whenever that would be. It didn't occur to him that anyone wouldn't simply gloss their eye over him, busy with their own drinks and company. Imagine his surprise when, not one, but two people made contact with him not five minutes after his entry. Soon after his request, something teased at his antennae-- or in his head? Oh, was it Clamiene? Was she giving him a surprise visit? It had been her idea for him to come here in the first place, so maybe she decided to help him?

Upon a quick survey of the bar's interior, he didn't see his fellow coworker; rather, a creature in a purple cloak waving at him drew his attention. His antennae twitched in confusion before he made the connection. Weird, he could have sworn that voice sounded like her's. Then again, all mental links could have the same voice, for all he knew. Aside from this stranger, Clamiene was the only person he knew who spoke telepathically.

Realizing how long he was taking to answer everyone's questions, he sent a rapid, almost panicky message to the cloaked patron. "Yes-- I mean, no, I don't mind! Uh... wow, you have great timing. Can you help me? I've never been at a bar before, and I'm trying not to look like an idiot." Perhaps it was a little too late for that, as he had already been facing away from the bartender and staring at this person blankly for over ten seconds.





Meanwhile, while the Zikn had no idea what he was doing, a Corvonian knew exactly what she was doing. Tiny heels clacking against the pavement, Tabby paused before the establishment to gaze up at the flickering neon sign and put her hands on her hips. This was the place, without a doubt. Here, allegedly, was where that smirky little creep allegedly worked for a living. Allegedly. The word flitted across her brain so many times that week, it didn't even sound like a word anymore. Not that it could be helped, considering how much of his-- alleged-- backstory and daily life didn't add up. Add up to what, one may inquire? Well, how could his nightly hours here explain the times she caught him shuffling about in dark alleyways, conversing with shifty-eyed characters, and trading stuff for things in nondescript bags and boxes? It was suspect. Highly suspect.

A patron pushing out of the double glass doors made her gaze flick back to the entrance, the sound of mood-setting music and loud chattering meeting her ears long before the heavy dragging of feet. Now was her chance. Legs flying underneath her, she scampered through the thinning opening before the doors could close, the atmosphere of the bar enveloping her senses. The constant noise, the overwhelming scent of alcohol, the countless partakers of it ranging anywhere between flailing their arms erratically with their story-telling or laying their head in a puddle of drool on the tabletops... oh. There he was.

That little sneak doesn't even know I'm here, Tabby thought to herself, pleased to have caught him distracted. She was going to keep it that way, too; dropping to her hands and knees, the little bird-like creature slid under the table of some unaware patrons, the latter laughing raucously at some given anecdotal. Ducking under their kicking legs, she commenced with her reconnaissance on the Aligor, eyes narrowing under the brim of her hat as she straightened it.

At the insectoid's hesitant reply, Chuligan simply smiled a close-lipped smile, keeping himself from grinning with teeth. It wouldn't do to scare off the newcomer, now would it? When asked what he would recommend to a newcomer, he gave Ixl a look over. Well, it was pretty obvious he was new to this whole bar thing, probably to drinking as well. He considered suggesting a beer, but looking at the poor sap made him wonder just how high his alcohol tolerance was. The boy barely had any meat on him. He'd probably be knocked over unconscious by even a simple beer. Suppressing a chuckle at the thought, he said, "E'er hearda kombucha? That's what we'll start ya off with."

He quickly noticed, however, that the boy's eyes were not on him, but were instead directed elsewhere. Smirking, he asked, "Should I take offense to ya spacin' out like that?" Following his gaze to see what had distracted him, he was immediately met with the sight of... Ah, that made sense. He sent Krie a wink and a wave, thinking to her teasingly, Jumpin' 'im the moment he sits 'is butt down? That's supposeta be my job. Of course, no one was getting jumped in his bar (though perhaps outside his bar, or behind it, or in the basement, maybe). Suppressing a chuckle at the thought of what might be happening his bar's hidden basement right now, he turned to look back at Ixl, saying, "I see ya've met Krie. She's a regular here. If anyone can get ya all settled in, it would be her."

Taking a step back, he said, "Lemme getcha that kombucha." Excusing himself, he went back behind his bar. He knew he had some kombucha somewhere. Not a lot of it, mind you. Not a lot of people came into his bar searching for low alcolhol drinks. So it would take him a while to find the said drink of choice.

Name: Levem

Age: 410, older adult. Roughly equivalent to a human in their 40s. They have the lifespan of about a thousand years.

Gender: Male

Species: He is a Kutika. They are mostly humanoid and can range in height from 3 to 8 feet. While they can be both quadrupedal and bipedal, they generally prefer to walk on two legs. They are predominantly feathered, but have fur as well. Their heads, necks, shoulders, and tails are mostly feathered, distinguished from the rest of the body by their navy blue or black coloration. Whereas the brighter colors of the body, the chest, back, legs, parts of the arms, are all furred. The brighter colors are commonly lighter shades of blue, purple, and/or pink with varying patterns to them. Typical patterns are variations of stripes, while they are rarely spotted. Although they have claws, they are mostly for climbing trees, as they are predominantly herbivorous. The smaller Kutika spend more time in trees, with a diet of mostly fruit and seeds, rarely ever eating meat. The larger Kutika tend to only climb trees to reach the higher branches for food, and will eat anything they find in the tree, including small mammals. Their beaks are strong enough to crack open the tough outer shells or skin of the fruit they eat. Despite their glossy eyes making them appear blind, they have keen vision and exceptional night-vision. Their eyes reflect light like a cat's.

Occupation: Graveyard caretaker/grave keeper/gravedigger

Appearance and Attire: He's 7'5 when standing upright. He usually wears little more than a simple utility belt for carrying some basic necessities. https://sta.sh/019355wavy91

Personality: Levem is an interesting individual who seems to live inside a world in his own head. Either that, or he has possibly gone mad and genuinely believes everything he says. Due to working long hours at the graveyard for most of his life, Levem has developed quite the imagination. He spends so much time alone that he tends to create fun scenarios in his head, such as the corpses he tends to coming to life and rising from their graves. Although, it can be hard to tell if he's kidding or not, since he can make those comments with such a sincere, even tone and a straight face that you would swear he's telling the truth. He can even be found talking to the graves, or to himself, carrying on entire conversations and replying to himself in different voices.

Brief History: Levem moved to Xtorxia not long after it had opened up to the public. He has been in the business of taking care of graveyards ever since he was young since his parents were funeral directors. He had always helped them out, since they were short-staffed in the beginning. However, after his parents were too old to continue working, the business got new management, and new staff was hired to help out. Levem wasn't needed as much and his work load was decreased. He wasn't satisfied with the easier work load, though, and was considering leaving his job. However, he didn't have any experience with anything else, so it was difficult to find another job. He also liked his job at the funeral home, and simply wanted more to do. So when an opportunity finally opened up for him to work in Xtorxia, he took it without hesitation. Now Levem would be in charge of taking care of a graveyard again, doing most of the work himself. He works full time there, and seems to rarely have time off as he's normally found there.

Quote: "You hear the wind begin to howl, and hear the beating of your heart... All the trees begin to moan, and the graves grunt and groan... From the darkness, you can see a creature creeping closer... You feel your head ache, and colors seem to brighten around you... Hmm? Haha, what's with that dreadful look? You look as if you've seen a ghost. Then again, maybe you did. Who knows really? Long hours of being surrounded by dead people, all alone in the dead of night, tends to play tricks on the mind. I promise no one's rising from their grave anytime soon, though. Probably not anyway... We'll see if anyone gets restless tonight..."

OOC: Accepted!

No, frankly, Ixl never heard of... "comboocha" before, and he wasn't about to let the bartender know that. While he typically wasn't the prideful sort, he had found that it often worked in his favor to fabricate an air of self... assurance... comprehension... eh, sometimes it was better to act like he knew more than he did, especially after his repeated blunders throughout his arrival. It hadn't even been ten minutes since he came stumbling into the bar like he had already gotten drunk prior, and he was already having people flock to him as if he were a lost sheep. He was starting to feel a tad bit embarrassed about the whole thing, so instead of sticking to the truth, he felt it would do his shaken nerves some good to instead call out after the bartender, "Yeah, something along those lines! Thanks!"

Satisfied that he-- hopefully-- didn't look like a complete neophyte, he swiveled over in his seat again, plated hands clicking against the chair's back as they clasped over it. Four eyes, flickering with uncertainty, met with the four patron's as he said, perhaps needlessly, "So, you're a regular here?" He was sheepish about proceeding to an inquiry of more substance, as was evident by the hesitant pause and slow phrasing, "Um... exactly how much of an oaf have I proven myself to be so far?"





A private eye peering innocuously from under one of the tables was having her own issues at the moment, as well. But seeing as though she was not to be... erm, seen, they hardly stemmed from a need to appear seasoned and charismatic. No, right now, she was getting simultaneously kicked in the rear and face from two very twitterpated-- and very drunk-- patrons who were were attempting to play footsie with one another. Whether or not one knew the other was even trying to play the little game was a wonder, as Tabby was pretty sure that there hadn't been a barrage of flailing limbs arming the hiding spot like a series of pivoting pendulums before she had crawled under there. Perhaps it was fate's way of telling her that it was time to find a new one, as her current proxy had dipped out of her radar briefly after attending to the newcomer.

Fate proceeded to hammer in its point by kicking her straight out from under the table, causing her to unceremoniously fall flat on her face with her butt up in the air for all to see. Her beak snapped irritably at having been forced into plain sight as she picked herself up, the only solace here being that dignity shorts always payed off, which she was thankful for as she patted her skirt down. Readjusting her dislodged hat with an intent flick of the wrist, which also garnered a click of disapproval at having to repeat this action, the little creature skittered off to the nearest table. This time, she opted for one with a single, lonely occupant who looked more ready to fall into a booze-induced coma than to engage in any sort of tomfoolery that would land her another kick in the rear.

The robotic cop watched as the bartender slipped away, presumably to get the drink he had offered Ixl. Despite the loud chatter of the bar, PIP had heard every word of their exchange (not including, of course, the telepathic dialogue). Some might call it selective hearing. The robot wasn't entirely sure what it called the ability to tone out others' voices in favor of honing in on a particular conversation. The rest of the bar, in those moments, had become not unlike static to it; static that, through the haze of it, concealed the words that it was most interested in.

Call it a hunch, but PIP didn't like the looks of the man. Well, alright, perhaps not his actual appearance, as the robot had no concept of aesthetics, but something about his behavior didn't sit well with it. It had never seen the man do anything particularly suspicious, unlike the private investigator, but something told it that this individual was one that it needed to keep an eye on. And it had nothing to do with the fact that he was an Aligor, either. If it had possessed an organic mind that allowed it to think in any other way other than to follow protocol, perhaps it would have kept an eye on the man for such a reason. As it was, its coding dictated that no one should be discriminated against due to their species. So for its own purer reasons, the police officer was keeping an eye on him.

Whether she was keeping an eye on him for such reasons, however, was impossible to say.

PIP had caught sight of her as she tumbled out from under one of the many tables. Had it been organic, it might have sighed. But pretending to be organic wasn't in its coding, so it didn't sigh. Instead, it merely watched as the little Corvonian darted underneath another table. Now the robot wasn't an idiot. Cardinali was probably up to no good. Whether she intended on relieving someone of illegal substances or was snooping about in places she shouldn't, it knew without a doubt that something was up.

Its first inclination was to confront her. It knew she was probably about to break any number of laws, but as it uncrossed its arms, it paused midstep. Returning to its original position with its back against the wall, it considered its options. She wasn't doing anything illegal... yet. While hardly proper etiquette, hiding under tables was by no means against the law. It couldn't confront her without having some evidence of foul play. That, and there was another reason why PIP hesitated. If Cardinali was following someone, it had reason to believe that this someone was up to no good. She might not follow the law, but she did seemingly have some sense of justice. She went after criminals and gang members, it knew from experience. So if she was following one such individual, well, blowing her cover by confronting her would allow whoever it was to slip away. She might be onto something, and if that were the case, it needed to be prepared for anything.

So PIP did not intervene with the little Corvonian's antics. Not yet, anyways.

Despite literally hearing voices in her head, Krie didn't respond to either right away. Instead, she was distracted by something that had caught her eye, or at least by something she thought she had seen. Krie hadn't noticed them at first, whenever this person had apparently come in, but she could have swore she saw them slip under one of the tables. The movement was so fast, and the person was so small, she had to take a moment to process what just happened, to make sure she hadn't imagined it.

Krie was certain she indeed hadn't imagined it when this person proceeded to get kicked right out from underneath the table, and ended up falling flat on their face, no less. Surely it would be an embarrassing experience for nearly anyone sober enough to comprehend what's going on around them. This person sure didn't seem drunk, at least not by much, from what Krie could tell. Actually, now that she got a good look at them, she could have swore that they seemed familiar. They were clearly a Corvonian, but Krie could tell that it wasn't her co-worker. Was that perhaps his wife? Who proceeded to duck under another table? Surely it wasn't just a coincidence that she was here, doing... Whatever it was she was doing exactly.

Remembering she had yet to reply back, Krie figured now was a good time to rat out this sneaky little guest. "Oh, come on, Chul, look at this guy. He clearly needs a chaperone. He'll probably be wasted with one drink, and won't even make it home by himself. I've just decided to volunteer myself." She paused briefly. "Oh, by the way, thought you should know there's someone hiding under tables here."

Krie stole one last glance at the Corvonian before getting up from her seat and heading over to the insect patron. She sat down beside him, facing him. Her tail was extended to the floor, the skull just resting there, facing the bar. "Yeah, I come probably every night, so I can help you out." She emitted a chuckle that seemed to echo in his head. "Eh, don't worry about it. I mean, sure, it's kinda obvious you're new to the scene, but trust me, most people will be too drunk to remember, some too far gone to even notice. So you're honestly fine. Everyone looks like a fool in a bar, so you're in good company here."

Well, that's... kind of reassuring? Ixl swiveled in his chair to properly face who he believed would be his new drinking buddy, shoes clinging to the metal bar of his stool and hands clamped tightly together. I mean, thank you. It was... heh, it was a pretty stupid idea to come here by myself, now that I think of it. But, since we're here, I'm Ixl. He turned a hand in presentation to the cloaked patron. And you are?





Chuligan! The Corvonian's clawed fingers dug into the floorboards she was laying flat over. Where are you, you little-- Scratch marks embedded in the path her curling fingers made. In all of that tomfoolery with the idiots playing foot games, she lost sight of where that sneaky bartender went. And with her less than stellar hearing, she couldn't make out what was being said between him and that bug person. It could be assumed he was going to fetch the newcomer a drink, but she wasn't about to risk blowing her cover searching for him. No, he'd be back, soon enough. And by the Stars, he wouldn't escape the investigator's watchful eye again.

"Um, hi?"

So long as these drunken baffoons would stop getting in her way.

"I'm... pretty sure kids aren't supposed to be here?"

Tabby hopped to her hands and knees, head twitching up at the patron's drooping face as his long neck was craned down to look at her. "I'm..." Think fast, think fast-- "I'm... not real. You're sleeping. Go back to bed, sweetie."

She sprung from under the table and skid underneath the bug person's.

Nailed it.

Name: Kulnok (this is his surname; he'll rarely tell people his first name)

Age: 32

Gender: Male

Species: Cardassian - http://memory-alpha.wikia.com/wiki/Cardassian

Occupation: Formerly a soldier in the Cardassian military, Kulnok is now searching for steady employment.

Appearance and Attire: Possessing the same ashen scales and swept back black hair that is predominant in his people's military, one might think that Kulnok looks like any other Cardassian soldier. Well, they wouldn't exactly be wrong. Kulnok is the very image of what a Cardassian soldier should be. He stands at 6'0, with an impossibly straight posture and a lean, well toned build. He has a small scar on his left cheekbone. His pale blue eyes possess a keen awareness of his surroundings and they are always watching either for something out of place or a subtle order from one of his superiors. As for his apparel, he'll wear pretty much whatever the situation requires, though he'll always wear a black leather gorget that covers his neck and shoulders. Whatever he wears tends to be either black or of earthy colors, with the exception of whenever his niece wants to play dress up.

Personality: One can probably tell just by seeing the way Kulnok acts that he was once a soldier. From replying, "Yes sir," to everyday exchanges to standing at attention at seemingly all times to the way he flips someone who surprised him over his shoulder... yeah. He may or may not have some PTSD that makes him react as if he were still a soldier on the battlefield. Despite this, he is not quite unpleasant. Granted, he might come off as intimidating due to his appearance and seemingly almost unemotional demeanor, but he's far from the arrogant, condescending character that one usually associates with a Cardassian soldier. Indeed, there's instead a sense of humbleness that radiates from him, almost to the point where he hardly has an identity of his own at all. But make no mistake, there is indeed a person in there, which can be most obviously observed when he is interacting with his niece. It is with her that his usual neutral expression will lift into a soft smile, the rigidity of his posture easing. He loves his niece dearly, and she is perhaps the only thing that keeps him sane after the horrors he experienced as a soldier.

Brief History: Kulnok had a rather typical childhood for a Cardassian boy. When he came of age, he enlisted in the military, where he served faithfully for many years. A certain series of events made it critical that he leave the military and instead come to care for his niece. Wanting to start anew and searching for job opportunities, he and his niece moved to Xtorxia recently. Even more recently, however, his niece has gone missing. Now Kulnok is trying desperately to find her while also struggling to keep himself financially afloat.

Quote: "Have you seen my niece? She's seven years old, long black hair, dark brown eyes... She was wearing a red dress, white stockings. No? I'll... keep looking, then."

The bartender chuckled aloud at Krie's thought-words, though he doubted anyone heard it over the racket of the bar and from his position beneath the counter. At her last sentence, however, any semblance of amusement was banished from his face. His mouth situating itself into a small frown, he poked his head up over the counter, but all he could see was above the tables. Lowering himself back down to examine his drinks half-heartedly, he thought to himself for a few moments before sending a message to Krie. Little fellow? Bird-like? he mentally asked her. He'd been warned that a private dick was in the city now, but he hadn't really expected anything to come of it. This wasn't like the movies where they could do whatever they wanted without any sort of repercussions. Apparently this little Corvonian had skipped that part of private dick school. She was extremely nosy, from what he'd heard, getting herself into all sorts of places she shouldn't be.

"Huh," he said to himself. Apparently she was going to be more trouble than he'd initially thought, if she was already snooping around his bar. Well, it wasn't really as if anything could be done about it. He couldn't kick her out for creeping under tables. Not that he really wanted to kick her out, per se. How suspicious that would seem. Chuligan rarely kicked people out of his bar. They had to do quite some damage to earn that level of wrath from him. So it would be rather uncharacteristic of him to kick someone out.

He laughed quietly. Gettin' a little jumpy, ain't ya? he thought to himself. Now that wasn't like him at all. If anything, this person should be someone new to flirt with, someone new to get hopelessly drunk and spill some profitable secrets. Smirking to himself, he felt himself relax. A new private dick wasn't anything to be concerned about. She'd get torn up in this city of sharks. She'd be packing up and heading home in no time. Either that, or they'd find her in a ditch. Grinning wickedly to himself at this rather morbid thought, he finally found the bottle he was looking for. Taking it in one of his tentacles, he forced his face into a mere close-lipped smile before raising himself to his feet.

Walking around the counter and presenting himself at the insectoid's table, he set down the bottle of kombucha in front of him, offering him a simple smile that betrayed nothing of the man's predatory nature. "'Ere, this 'un's on me. Don't ya worry yer little head o'er it."

"You're welcome," Krie replied. She emitted a mental chuckle. "For the first time? Yeah, not the brightest idea there, bud. You really should have a buddy who knows the scene and can keep you out of trouble. Also, someone who's willing to take you back home if you happen to get wasted. It's easy to lose control of yourself if you drink passed your limit. Unless you're awesome like me and immune to the effects, of course," she emitted another chuckle.

Krie glanced down at Ixl's hand briefly, before offering up one of her front paws. Her paw was like a large cat's, rather than a human hand. He could grip her paw for a shake, but it would be difficult for her to get any sort of grip on his hand. "I'm Krie. Uh, don't mind the paw, I just don't exactly have hands." She paused briefly. "Well, sort of, but you might not want to see where my hands come from exactly." She tilted her head slightly. "Sometimes people are weirded out by me."

The skull at the end of Krie's tail rose up from the ground slightly, and turned to follow the Corvonian who was scurrying about. Its eyes were locked on her as she skid underneath that very table. It didn't attempt to do anything else, but it was watching her carefully. Very carefully. "Yeah, I got my eyes on her right now, definitely a Corvonian," she mentally said to Chuligan.

Name: Jeck
Age: 4 earth years, akin to a 20 year old human, species can live 90 years at least and 200 at most
Gender: Male
Species: Crustakian - Like Fiddler Crabs the Crustakians have one giant claw on their lesser dominant hand and a tiny paw shaped hand on the other, they do however resemble lobsters more than crabs in the way their claws look and how they have long antennae. Crustakians have long, thick tails that they use to balance as they are mostly hollow and can be blown over easily, the tail have a claw like that from a claw machine on the tip that can grab onto things and can close and become drill like which is used to dig burrows to live in underwater. Crustakians don't need to sleep for weeks on ends, but when they do they can sleep for days which is why there are designated "Shielders" Which are the Crustakians with the largest claws that stay awake while others sleep and protect their schools while the others sleep. Crustakians can range in color and some even change color based on emotion, the most common colors are red and blue, white are very uncommon. Crustakians have three sets of arms, the middle being tiny, serrate and very sharp claws used for offense and the bottom set being longer and sometimes even dragging on the ground with reptilian hands that have thumbs. Their legs are reptilian and they have four claws as digits, one being bigger and on the side of the foot to help with balance. They have lobster-esque faces albeit more anthropomorphic
Occupation: inbetween jobs
Appearance and Attire: Unlike most common Crustakians, Jeck is gray in coloration and can change color dependent on emotion, yellow when embarrassed etc. Jeck wears an old patchy brown coat with a long teal and cream colored scarf, over top of a worn grayish blue denim button up shirt, he wears torn and shredded jeans. His second set of more offensive claws are covered with cloth wrapped around and tied so he can't accidentally harm anyone.
Personality: Jeck is kind in every sense, perhaps too kind, he lets people take advantage of him and he's oft embarrassed about things, he's very modest and can be quite shy when it comes to being complimented. He feels bad that others have to endure his raggedy looks and what he assumes to be bothersome company. He is hard working however and not soft spoken when it comes down to needing to be honest and speak his mind. He tries to mask his sadness with comedy.
Brief History: Exiled from his planet for a crime he did commit, but thinks is absolutely ridiculous, he came to Xtorxia when he was only 2 earth years old, despite Xtorxia being a welcoming place, not many people wanted to hire him considering he often accidentally injured someone or punctured something by accident with his claws, he hasn't found something he'd be good at or anywhere that would hire him that he'd like to work. His depression about his life also may have something to do with not being able to find a job. He lives off the beaten path in a clearing in a forest in a makeshift home made of cardboard, wood panels and tarps. He's very good at making things and often makes treasure out of the trash he finds.
Quote: "I appreciate the money but did you have to put it in my full coffee cup..."

OOC: Both characters are accepted.

Jeck wasn't like some other homeless people he knew in the community, he didn't want to spend his money on getting drunk, though there was nothing wrong with that, he understood wanting to numb the pain and forget about your troubles for a few hours but he much preferred the bar for its warmth and its company, that's what he'd buy if he had the money: friends. That particular day had been a cold morning, he was woken at 6 am due to the winds blowing a tree over and nearly crushing him in his home, so maybe drinking would be a good idea, but still he would forego it, he just wanted someone to talk to.

As Jeck entered the bar he could feel the instant intensity of the warmth enveloping him in a blanket of comfort, he could hear the people chattering and laughing and clinking their drinks together having a good time with friends. He heard the music, playing through the bar and echoing back and forth between the four walls, this was one place he couldn't be forced out of, bars were always welcoming no matter the patronage and how they looked.

This wasn't Jeck's first time here, he'd come in every night to get a glass of water and every now and then a cheap meal if he had the funds to spare. Jeck approached the barfront and smiled. He wasn't aware that Chuligan was currently in a telepathic conversation, if he had he would have felt terrible for interrupting. "Excuse me, could I have a glass of water, I'm thinking I'll live on the edge today and even get a lemon wedge, I think I deserve it."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Krie!" Without a moment's hesitation, Ixl took the paw in his offered hand and shook it, keeping his grip firm before he pulled back. People seemed to like firm grips in handshakes; they always made a point of noting that after he did so. "You? Weird?" He shook his head, eyes squinting at the little cloaked lump before him. "I don't see how, personally. Lots of people here don't even have any limbs to speak of." Hands resting in his lap, he gave a thoughtful glance to the side, saying to himself, "Huh. Maybe that's why they hired me."

His antenna twitched at the approach of the bartender, and he blinked once at the clink of the bottle as it was set before him. "Oh! Um... thank you?" That sounded way too much like a question.

"Um... uh... 'On him"? What does he mean by--"

"Oh, yes, yes, th-thank you!" He snatched up the drink and held it to his now rigid body. "I-I appreciate that!"

Nothing could describe the thankfulness he held for that person who just distracted the bartender from his attention. God, he felt so stupid.


~~~


Unaware of the pair of yellow eyes boring into her back, Tabby clasped her hands tightly together in anticipation as Chuligan's feet appeared in her little view. Try getting away from me this time, you-- Another pair of feet followed, standing next to him. No way. She didn't have to risk a peek out from under the table to know who they belonged to; despite the thumping music and the chattering filling the bar, she could hear his voice just fine from this distance.

Jeck?? Does he--? She scratched a finger under her chin. Does he come here often? More chin scratching. That would mean...

What was she doing chasing this Aligor's tentacles around, when all she needed to do was ask Jeck for some of that juicy intel? Jeck knew everyone, after all. But questioning him would have to wait; she couldn't be caught preforming suspicious activity with this barkeep about. At least not with her crouched under a table as she was. With that in mind, she simply waited for how this exchange would go down, eyes narrowing keenly up at the gum-encrusted table's bottom.

As the door signaled yet another person's entrance into the bar, PIP flicked its optics away from the Aligor and towards the newcomer. It wasn't at all surprised by who it turned out to be. Jeck was a regular here, it knew from experience. It had conflicting feelings about the Crustakian, if they could be called feelings. On one hand, Jeck wasn't one to get hopelessly drunk and start bar fights or the like. On the other hand, he had quite a reputation for loitering due to his homeless status. A pang of sympathy resonated in its coding, as it was programmed to feel any time a particularly sorrowful thought occurred to it. Even it wasn't a heartless machine, though machine it be.

The robotic officer listened to the conversation initiated by Jeck, but as usual, did nothing to intervene. Scanning its optics over the entirety of the bar again, it kept an eye out for anything suspicious, or the private investigator.


If he were still crouched behind the counter, he might have frowned at Krie's confirmation that it was a Corvonian scurrying around. As it was, he was surrounded by people, so letting them know of his displeasure was not an option. Smile pretty for the patrons, he always told himself. So smile prettily he did, though his thought-voice didn't possess that same smile when he replied mentally to the telepath, Thanks fer lettin' me know. Though there was hardly a smile in his thought-tone, there was certainly a degree of gratitude. Smirking, he thought to her, What would I do without ya? Well, he'd probably have a newborn drinker on his hands without Krie, for one thing. The thought nearly made his smirk turn into a shark-like grin, full of sharp teeth made for defense instead of feeding. Ah, but he controlled himself. Can't go scaring the customers.

He was about to respond to the insectoid's adorable little squeaks, but a request from another patron kept him from doing so. He didn't need to turn to see who it was, but he did anyways for the sake of politeness. "Well look who it is!" he said with a grin. "Water with lemon? That'll cost ya a dime," he told him with a wink that suggested he wasn't really serious about charging someone for a mere glass of water, even if it did have the delicacy of a lemon slice included in the package. Walking around the counter, he poured a glass of water, adding the slice of lemon on the rim. Offering it to Jeck, he asked, "So what's the occasion? Did ya find a job?" He spoke this last line a hint more quietly than his previous one, almost as if he were asking for juicy gossip.

Now here was the thing. Part of Chuligan wanted this gentleman to get a job. No, truly! As it was, he wasn't exactly spending any money during his visits. Having a job would change that, no doubt. Ah, but that was small game. The bar brought in a nice trinkle of money, sure, but that wasn't where the real dough came from. People without jobs? Desperate. Desperate enough, perhaps, to involve themselves in some shady, however profitable, business. The thing was, he couldn't quite get a good read on the man. For some, it was easy to tell whether they'd be interested in illegal dealings. For whatever reason, however, he couldn't quite get a good picture of Jeck. The man seemed too... nice to be into that sort of thing. But then again, Chuligan himself could be considered nice when he wanted to put on a false front. Besides, something just nagged at him that there was... potential here in this man. Call it a hunch, a gut feeling, but he felt that perhaps he could use Jeck somehow. But he'd have to play his cards right.

Ah, but that was for a later time. For now, he had yet to see if the man was currently employed. Then he could make plans.


The cool night air was both a blessing and a curse to the Cardassian. It chilled him to the bone and made him sluggish, as it did all reptiles. He felt numb, both in mind and body, and in that sense, it truly was a blessing. Thoughts of war and his missing niece constantly plagued his alert mind. Having his mind clouded by the chill of the air took some of the pain away. His movements were slower than they normally would be, but they possessed a purpose. Gray fingers didn't tremble as they hammered yet another missing poster on a post, though they most certainly would have had he been a mammal. Or perhaps, had he been a mammal, he wouldn't have minded the chill at all.

Such things didn't really occur to him. He was practically on autopilot, his movements automatic and his mind hardly contributing at all. Like polishing boots or maintaining a gun, there was a sense of comfort to be wrought from the mindless repetition of it. Only when the poster was secure did some semblance of awareness seem to return to Kulnok as he looked about for anyone to avoid bumping into before continuing on down the street.

One might have frowned at the question that Chuligan raised since the fact of the matter was that Jeck still couldn't find a place willing to hire him, maybe it was because he wasn't exploring every option or because he wasn't talented enough or good enough to be hired anywhere but those thoughts didn't occur to him. Not only was Jeck applying every day, he was also a part of a free walk in employment help agency that helped him create a resume, of course he didn't have anything to put on a resume so he sort of had to stretch a few things to make them more impressive, he didn't like that, he knew it wasn't lying just adding a few bells and whistles to the truth but it still bothered him. Either way, Jeck still couldn't find employment and while one might think he'd hate living on the streets it wasn't so bad, he had his own little camp and he knew a lot of people who would donate clothes and other things to him and he'd sometimes get hired just for odd jobs such as mowing lawns or cleaning cars.

"Not yet! The occasion is that I'm hopeful, something about today just seems like it'll go my way, I don't know what but I just know today is going to be lucky." Jeck took a sip of his water, it wasn't his favorite, water, but he couldn't afford anything else and he needed it to survive, he often lived off dollar menu food, food drives and donations as he was saving up his money for this one specific house with a terrace. "Oh, are you new?" he directed his attention now to Ixl. "I haven't seen you around before, are you from out of the area?"

"Same here," Krie replied to the insectoid. She would have offered a smile, if her "mask" wasn't firmly stuck in that expression at all times. Having a face essentially made of bone made it difficult to communicate with people sometimes, especially those who relied on facial cues and expressions, something she was incapable of making. So she had to rely on other methods of conveying emotions whenever she chose to display them. "Hey, nice handshake," she noted. Krie personally didn't understand the point of handshakes, but knew people liked firm ones, so she made sure to note that Ixl had a good one.

Krie shrugged at Ixl's comment on her being weird, or rather, not weird from his perspective. "I don't pretend to understand it, I just know I get a lot of strange looks from people. Could be for any reason, really." She had seen all kinds of reactions to her over the years, and while she had grown used to it, she still didn't quite understand the reasoning behind it. "On him, means on the house. As in, for free. Just sit back and enjoy it." Krie answered. Since the mental link was up, she was getting all surface thoughts from those she was linked with. Krie always had a hard time keeping out of others' business and not commenting on their thoughts.

"You're welcome, Chul. That's what I'm here for." With her ability to talk telepathically, and also have two sets of eyes watching the scene, Krie was well suited to watching over the bar and conveying any strange findings that could lead to problems for them. "You'd have wasted drunks everywhere, with no babysitter to watch them," she answered in an amused tone.

Krie had noticed a familiar face walk into the bar, immediately identifying him as Jeck. He was a regular here, despite not usually paying for much, or hardly at all. She was curious to find out how he was doing with his job search. She opened up a mental link with him as well. "Hey, Jeck, how's it going? Have any luck with job hunting yet?"

See? Again, always making a point to note the handshake.

"Huh. Now that you mention it, I get a lot of weird looks, too," Ixl said, eyes darting around the bar as if searching for any such glances coming his way. "Maybe it's normal here?"

It was upon his massive social blunder that his thoughts froze along with his body, cold drink clutched closely to his chest as he stared down at the cup rings on the table, hoping above hope that everyone would eventually forget what had just come out of his mouth. And then a lobster started talking to him.

"Uh-- um--" Wings rustling back into their resting position after his jolt disheveled them, Ixl stammered for far longer than necessary as he replied to the stranger, "Well-- Well I don't-- I'm, uh-- sort of? I mean, I don't--" Come out of my room. "-- come out this way very often, but I live around the neighborhood."


~~~


A life isolated to work and home wasn't as uncommon as Ixl would think. Many didn't care to step outside one's set routine, prefering the familiarity and stability of the daily grind. Qionrad was one such person; rarely did his feet stray from such a path, slipping out of the bed sheets by daybreak to begin the morning meal, walking the short distance to the bus stop and to the store, standing by the register for spanning hours, and retracing his steps for what remained of the day, only to repeat the process the next one, and the one following. Like the man he would soon pass on the bustling streets had found, there was a certain comfort in repetition, in preforming a task with little difference in its practice.

And his wife-- Stars bless her-- seemed determined on taking that comfort away.

He wasn't supposed to be here. At home, safe in bed and having long since drifted to sleep, was where he and she needed to be. Not out in the city, after dark, with no knowledge of where his other half had taken off to. Though the sidewalks were packed with pedestrians, and the night sky lit up with bright neon lights, he was no less frightened of this situation. His fears were rational. The city could be dangerous for small creatures such as themselves, and his dear wife, as brave as she was for tackling her line of work, was just as much of a fool for not alerting him of her whereabouts. He knew the risks, just as she did. With the things he knew her to get herself into, trouble was likely to start. It would be in vain to ask her to remain in the little bubble of safety that was their home. But was it too much to ask for a little bit of communication?

If the lack of reply to his string of calls and texts was anything to go by, she must have deemed it so.

Qionrad sighed, stuffing his communicator into his pocket for the thirtieth time that hour. It was foolish of him, perhaps, to believe that he could find one woman in a sea of citizens, in an ocean of roads and blocks and buildings. But it would be just as pointless sitting in his nest and waiting for her arrival. He wouldn't sleep without knowing she was safe. He couldn't. Besides, now that he was surrounded by a cloud of potential witnesses, he didn't have to depend on his own pair of eyes, did he?

One individual stuck out to him. Scaled skin, holding a hammer and a stack of posters, but more importantly, tall. Someone with that height was more likely to pick out a certain masked face from above the crowd.

"Um-- Excuse me?" In a decisive spin of the heels, he pursued, tiny legs flying to keep up with this fellow's stretching strides. "Excuse me! You with the papers! Can you help me?"

"Oh well, a few odd jobs here and there," To tell the truth it felt like the entire world was against Jeck, he couldn't get hired anywhere, it seemed a bit ridiculous that in a place full of so many different characters of all shapes and sizes that he'd be the one getting rejected. Maybe it was his past following him or maybe it was just bad luck but either way it didn't bother his happy disposition on the outside, it only made him painfully alone on the inside. "How about you, how's the retail game going for you? A lot of people tell me not to even bother trying to apply for retail, say I couldn't handle it.

Jeck smiled at the new face, it was obvious from the stammering that he was reaching for a lie to cover up the embarrassing truth but Jeck didn't mind. "Well, what brings you out this way? Something tells me it isn't just the friendly faces or the bustling bar life."

"Ay, ya gotta run with those good feelins! Hopefully somethin'll come of it!" Now whether he actually meant that or not was... questionable, but hey.

Heh, that's fer sure, Chuligan thought to Krie. His playful thought-voice turning more serious, he requested of Krie, Keep an eye on our little bird, won't ya? I have some business to take care of right quick. With that, he politely excused himself from the table with a slight bow of the head before slinking away through an "Employees Only" door.


The words directed at him almost went unregistered. He was cool, the noises of the city drowned out as if he were underwater. Perhaps it wasn't the best idea being out here. He was more likely to collapse than to find his niece, but he wasn't about to let that stop him. Determination fueling him, he quickened his sluggish pace to--

Wait, what?

Slowing to a stop, Kulnok took a moment to process the words being spoken. Looking down at his bundle of papers rather numbly, he supposed he did fit the description. Normally when people addressed him, it was with words like "Cardie," "spoonhead," or some combination of "cold-blooded, imperialistic, militaristic, genocidal oppressor." He'd heard them all before. He supposed it might be different here on Xtorxia, where the Cardassian military was likely a power of far away that no one really knew of. Still, even as he turned on his heel to face the individual who addressed him, he wasn't entirely convinced that he was the one this person was addressing.

He didn't catch sight of said person for a few moments, admittedly. When his eyes finally chanced to look down, he saw who he presumed to be the source of the voice. Was that a Corvonian? He supposed he shouldn't have been too surprised. Corvonians tended to be everywhere, it seemed. But surprised he was, for he wouldn't have expected to run into a species he was familiar with.

So distracted by the individual's species, he almost didn't register the last words that had been spoken. His clouded mind fumbled over the words. Help? He was being asked to... help? This was stranger than being addressed in a civil manner, and admittedly, he almost wasn't sure how to react.

After a short, no doubt awkward silence, Kulnok nodded suddenly as if having just woken from a slumber, saying, "Yes. How can I...?" Whether he trailed off due to a cold wind that seemed to cut through his coat or because he didn't know how he could help was questionable. How could he help when he couldn't even help his niece?

Forcing that train of thought out of his mind, he asked again, with more conviction this time, "How can I help you?"