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And so, Kopaka returned to the place his quest had started.
Helping with the cleanup and rebuilding process for the newly descendant island of Nausicaa had taken far longer than he had hoped for. The reluctant forces of The City of Hope had contributed only a token effort into the damage control effort, focused more on repairing the damage to their own infrastructure. It was as if the people of Nausicaa had ceased to be Skylanders to their urban kindred the second the mote had been snatched from the sky. It was only through incessant, nearly threatening insistence on the part of Kopaka and General Althaus that any of Comstock's industrial coterie offered consistent succor.
Frankly, Kopaka was glad to be far from the City of Hope. The very name of the place seemed to be a hypocritical farce, and seeing his own efforts fail to dent the scale of the situation had left him with a sour taste in his mouth.
A Toa, he had concluded, was not a builder nor a savior. His job was to intervene and save what he could, and he had the tools necessary for maximum impact to that effect. Once the dust had finally settled on the now desolate, but otherwise secured, Nausicaa Isle, Kopaka had lamented that darkness and vileness had multiplied elsewhere in the Crossroads. Luckily for him, he was now in the company of other individuals who held the same disdain for greed and debauchery. It had been decided that the Toa, Morene Fellon, and Doctor McNinja would be dispatched to Erde Nona to help hunt down any number of known bounty targets currently sullying that World.
McNinja had gone rogue almost immediately, as was his nature, but Kopaka found a surprisingly kindred spirit in the knochten woman. Both of them had a desire to pursue and complete specific objectives as efficiently as possible, and it made for an easy working relationship during the rebuild of Nausicaa, as well as their first few days in Arcadia.
...
...However, the ability to get along easily did not make them any better at communicating. On this particularly dreary, blustery day in the Royal City, Kopaka stood at the threshold of the Saedath Auditorium, waiting for the heavily armored woman. She was ten minutes late for their rendevouz, and their VIP client was becoming impatient. Kopaka wasn't entirely eager to serve as a private bodyguard; there were surely people in the Hinterlands in need of rescue from dragons or demons or some such drama...but Ezrihel had stressed the importance of gaining a positive reputation within the echelons of the Kingdom of Arcadia.
A skybus roared past overhead, casting the courtyard of the opera house into shadow for a moment as the gleaming LED stripes that adorned the building across the street became obscured by its bulk. Kopaka watched the hulking canister, filled with patient commuters, round the corner, when he became aware of Morene's tell-tale marching approaching him from behind. The android turned on his foot and regarded Morene with an impassive expression.
"You are late. The client will be here in less than fifteen minutes." Kopaka chided. Morene frowned, and shifted her weight slightly. The cerantium servos growled softly to compensate.
"No, you're late. I've been talking to the theater staff and inspecting the perimeter. Locating exits. What good does standing around waiting for the client serve?" she drawled. There was a small contest of silence between them as another immense skybus rolled past overhead.
"We should invest in telecommunication devices to better coordinate our actions." Kopaka relented, before turning back to face the road.
"Agreed." Morene said flatly. They stood at equal, armored height, perfectly spaced ten feet from each other. More flying cars, some of them fantastical clockwork contraptions, others sleek and futuristic, rumbled past. The LED lighting on the opposite building shifted from golden yellow into burgundy as the hour struck noon. Five more minutes until the client arrived.
"Hey Kopaka, the people who run this theater group...they feel a bit uncanny." Morene spoke up.
"Explain."
"Well, they're all wearing these scowling, screaming, laughing--it's hard to tell--grinning masks. Dressed like clowns in leotards...even the ushers are masked." Morene continued.
"So are we. Are you certain you spoke to the staff and not the playwrights themselves?" Kopaka rebutted.
"Yes." Morene said, somewhat pointedly. "Actors, stagehands, snack vendors...all of them dressed with masks and checkered tights."
"Is that odd?" Kopaka buzzed. Morene rolled her eyes slightly before catching herself; Kopaka had a very loose grasp on humanoid culture. This was probably his first time even being within a hundred yards of a theater production.
"I think so. But it's more than just the costumes. Their demeanor is also masked. As if, when speaking, they're always about to start singing or...deliver a punchline. Like they're never being totally honest." Morene said, shrugging in finality. Kopaka nodded softly.
"I have no reason to doubt your judgement; perhaps our client feels the same way about these people...thus our hiring." the biomech offered. Morene snorted, only partially out of amusement.
"Makes no sense to me...why buy tickets to a show where even the mophands feel threatening?" she chortled.
"Ours is not to question, only to fulfill the contract. Also, I believe this is the car." Kopaka said, gesturing towards a shining, red limousine that skated along a track of gleaming energy. Everything about the vehicle whispered the glories of wealth and status. It slid to a stop, almost silently, at the zenith of the Saedath Auditorium's curved driveway. Kopaka and Morene approached the doors as they hissed open, and immediately took up positions flanking the lavishly dressed VIP as they exited...
Helping with the cleanup and rebuilding process for the newly descendant island of Nausicaa had taken far longer than he had hoped for. The reluctant forces of The City of Hope had contributed only a token effort into the damage control effort, focused more on repairing the damage to their own infrastructure. It was as if the people of Nausicaa had ceased to be Skylanders to their urban kindred the second the mote had been snatched from the sky. It was only through incessant, nearly threatening insistence on the part of Kopaka and General Althaus that any of Comstock's industrial coterie offered consistent succor.
Frankly, Kopaka was glad to be far from the City of Hope. The very name of the place seemed to be a hypocritical farce, and seeing his own efforts fail to dent the scale of the situation had left him with a sour taste in his mouth.
A Toa, he had concluded, was not a builder nor a savior. His job was to intervene and save what he could, and he had the tools necessary for maximum impact to that effect. Once the dust had finally settled on the now desolate, but otherwise secured, Nausicaa Isle, Kopaka had lamented that darkness and vileness had multiplied elsewhere in the Crossroads. Luckily for him, he was now in the company of other individuals who held the same disdain for greed and debauchery. It had been decided that the Toa, Morene Fellon, and Doctor McNinja would be dispatched to Erde Nona to help hunt down any number of known bounty targets currently sullying that World.
McNinja had gone rogue almost immediately, as was his nature, but Kopaka found a surprisingly kindred spirit in the knochten woman. Both of them had a desire to pursue and complete specific objectives as efficiently as possible, and it made for an easy working relationship during the rebuild of Nausicaa, as well as their first few days in Arcadia.
...
...However, the ability to get along easily did not make them any better at communicating. On this particularly dreary, blustery day in the Royal City, Kopaka stood at the threshold of the Saedath Auditorium, waiting for the heavily armored woman. She was ten minutes late for their rendevouz, and their VIP client was becoming impatient. Kopaka wasn't entirely eager to serve as a private bodyguard; there were surely people in the Hinterlands in need of rescue from dragons or demons or some such drama...but Ezrihel had stressed the importance of gaining a positive reputation within the echelons of the Kingdom of Arcadia.
A skybus roared past overhead, casting the courtyard of the opera house into shadow for a moment as the gleaming LED stripes that adorned the building across the street became obscured by its bulk. Kopaka watched the hulking canister, filled with patient commuters, round the corner, when he became aware of Morene's tell-tale marching approaching him from behind. The android turned on his foot and regarded Morene with an impassive expression.
"You are late. The client will be here in less than fifteen minutes." Kopaka chided. Morene frowned, and shifted her weight slightly. The cerantium servos growled softly to compensate.
"No, you're late. I've been talking to the theater staff and inspecting the perimeter. Locating exits. What good does standing around waiting for the client serve?" she drawled. There was a small contest of silence between them as another immense skybus rolled past overhead.
"We should invest in telecommunication devices to better coordinate our actions." Kopaka relented, before turning back to face the road.
"Agreed." Morene said flatly. They stood at equal, armored height, perfectly spaced ten feet from each other. More flying cars, some of them fantastical clockwork contraptions, others sleek and futuristic, rumbled past. The LED lighting on the opposite building shifted from golden yellow into burgundy as the hour struck noon. Five more minutes until the client arrived.
"Hey Kopaka, the people who run this theater group...they feel a bit uncanny." Morene spoke up.
"Explain."
"Well, they're all wearing these scowling, screaming, laughing--it's hard to tell--grinning masks. Dressed like clowns in leotards...even the ushers are masked." Morene continued.
"So are we. Are you certain you spoke to the staff and not the playwrights themselves?" Kopaka rebutted.
"Yes." Morene said, somewhat pointedly. "Actors, stagehands, snack vendors...all of them dressed with masks and checkered tights."
"Is that odd?" Kopaka buzzed. Morene rolled her eyes slightly before catching herself; Kopaka had a very loose grasp on humanoid culture. This was probably his first time even being within a hundred yards of a theater production.
"I think so. But it's more than just the costumes. Their demeanor is also masked. As if, when speaking, they're always about to start singing or...deliver a punchline. Like they're never being totally honest." Morene said, shrugging in finality. Kopaka nodded softly.
"I have no reason to doubt your judgement; perhaps our client feels the same way about these people...thus our hiring." the biomech offered. Morene snorted, only partially out of amusement.
"Makes no sense to me...why buy tickets to a show where even the mophands feel threatening?" she chortled.
"Ours is not to question, only to fulfill the contract. Also, I believe this is the car." Kopaka said, gesturing towards a shining, red limousine that skated along a track of gleaming energy. Everything about the vehicle whispered the glories of wealth and status. It slid to a stop, almost silently, at the zenith of the Saedath Auditorium's curved driveway. Kopaka and Morene approached the doors as they hissed open, and immediately took up positions flanking the lavishly dressed VIP as they exited...
Quest: Introduction to Arcadian High Society
Participants: Kopaka & Morene Fellon
Word Count: 945/5,000