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Post by Insano-Man on Sept 20, 2018 13:28:08 GMT -5
VES'NARUN KI DRASSA
Aliases: Fair Shadow, White Hunter, Nahli'Zamar ki Osmodan nes'ara Drassa, Ellienna Henderson
Affiliation: Independent, Townie (Lebedrovez Harbor, Low Orbit)
Species: Redworlder (Female)
Birthplace: Cloneston Wasteland
Birthdate: May 23rd, 1279 (OSC)
Height: 6'2" (1.87m)
Weight: 170 - 190lb (77 - 86kg)
SUMMARY
The one that got away. Ex-waster, ex-mercenary, and now a Lebedrovez civilian in some weird half-marriage to an AI-turned-slime-synth. Ves is one of those mythical greys that made it out of Cloneston alive. Things got really weird after that. Now that she's out, she's found more peace and happiness in life than she ever dreamed of. She's achieved her life's goal. She's found a new life in the process. She might not have a direction anymore - or half a clue as to what the Hell's going on in her life anymore - but she's happy where she is. Mostly.
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Post by Insano-Man on Sept 20, 2018 13:28:18 GMT -5
APPEARANCE
Ves'Narun is an odd one through and through. Spacer genes say she should be a giantess, but a hunger-stricken childhood kept her at a terrestrial 6'2". Family heritage says she should be grey and hairless, but she's instead a milky white with a dreamy head of snowy hair - even if most people remember her with peach fuzz. Her face is off, too; compared to her gaunt-faced kinfolk, Ves comes with full cheekbones and a rounded nose. Her eyes are a striking pitch black with blinding-bright pupils - even redworlders are a bit on edge about looking her in the eye. A puffy scar under her left eye is the only blemish of note - despite being shot and set on fire at every bend in the road.
Ves carries a few cybernetic modifications strewn about inside her athletic frame. Some are medical devices - blood filters, pulse monitors, nothing out of the ordinary for a second-generation planet-dweller. The rest are purpose-made combat implants she's never been particularly ready to divulge the details on. Only one actually breaks the skin; a small port at the base and back of her neck. She's kept that one to herself, too. Whatever all her extra parts do, she's got the speed, sight, and toughness to back them up.
Ves's outfit isn't far beyond what she rolled with in her days as a professional waster. A stark-white, sleeveless jacket covers her top half with its hood permanently pulled up - the exact same she left the city with. Tight black pants cover up her lower half to try to pretend she understands spacer modesty. Everything else hides under a drab-grey, custom-made counterpressure bodysuit. Heavy black boots and skin-tight white gloves cap off her feet and fingers. On days when she's expecting to be shot on the job, her jacket hides a custom-made light combat vest - and now that she's gone civilian, it's as much for her figure as her health.
Ves keeps her hair and most of her face covered up in her pressure suit's hood. Over the eye slit is another Cloneston holdover; a set of custom ballistic goggles fitted out with a few sensor modules on the left side. Night vision, infrared, and rangefinders are just a few of the options the gadget offers her. Separate lenses for each half means she can juggle two at a time as the situation demands. Flash resistance and glare protection go hand-in-hand with with a dark default shade - which means people can meet her eyes without sunscreen. An air-tight seal to her mask means she doesn't have to fuss around with a giant helmet poofing out her hood - much as it's not much breathing room.
Ves's chief weapons are a couple of Cloneston classics with custom spins. Her go-to gun is an MRP 80 battle rifle, shaved down to carbine length with a stubby integrated suppressor. A compact assault scope, hand-fitted furniture, and a few internal enhancements make it deadly accurate for a weapon of its length. When and where she can get ahold of it, the subsonic ammo it was meant for keeps it as quiet as a heart attack. A bulky ARGHESI handgun usually keeps one of her hips company. Knives and little spacer micro-grenades hide away whenever she's on the poor side.
Narun's refurbished, hand-tuned Eclectica D5 tablet is her primary access point to all things computerized. It can handle everything from hijacking clones to relaying tactical data, all without so much as a hitch or a hang. A few simple hologram projectors allow quick information sharing in a pleasing shade of lilac. A motion-capture glove tucked underneath allows Ves to access functions with nothing but a few waves of her hand.
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Post by Insano-Man on Sept 20, 2018 13:31:33 GMT -5
BEHAVIOR
Ves is duality defined. On the one hand, she's the archetypical redworlder. She's a selfless conservative with a sense of community loyalty not many can top. She's been ready to die for the people around her dozens of times in the past - she's just never been all that good at dying. On the other hand, she's a loner, an opportunist, and distant with everyone she meets. Not many even remember talking to her. People out in the Cloneston Wasteland remember her better than any of the people who she's maimed or killed for.
There aren't many things Ves can't do. She's a skilled skirmisher and a marksman worthy of praise. Demolitions, hand-to-hand, sewage tunnel breaching maneuvers - as it turns out, slums in orbit are just a gravity plate away from being at home in Cloneston. Long-distance sharpshooting is where she comes into her own. It doesn't matter if it's the middle of a snowstorm, a hurricane, an artillery barrage, or all three at once, Ves will find a way to get a round on target. As a hunter, she's a master of the clean kill. As a bounty hunter, she's a master of the quick hit and the one-shot contract. She just can't find any jobs that go beyond stabbing distance these days.
Ves's talents don't end at fighting. As part of her trade as a scout sniper, she knows how to do just about everything. She's a field medic with the know-how to save humans just as well as her own kind. An upbringing in the wastes taught her survival skills that border on supernatural - much as that's not so important these days. Her years in Cloneston taught her how to handle code and tactical networking all by herself. Back in the city, her talents as a hacker were only above average. In orbit, they're not much better, but they're enough - and different enough that most never see her coming.
Ves's natural speaking tone is a low, breezy whisper, almost cliche for her upbringing in the wastes. It's marked by a typical Qashanish accent, inherited from her parents and held steady by Drassa. Her native tongue is that same language, backed up by full fluency in English and a working knowledge of Chinese and Russian. Her outlook is colored by a hearty mix of Cloneston customs, wasteland folk wisdom, and watered-down Space Looney teachings. A long history as a mercenary has offered her plenty more insight - for better or worse.
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Post by Insano-Man on Sept 20, 2018 13:32:07 GMT -5
GOALS- Zaja'Nazari. Adrian Henderson. Once upon a time, Ves had been ready to kill Adrian to keep him from killing Zaja. She made her peace a long time ago. Then the two disappeared into space on a shuttle explosion. She's sure they survived. She's sure they're out there. She owes it to them to find them - even if they've been getting on just fine in the time since.
- Erin Guse, too. As a weird adoptive co-mother to Caroline Guse - and someone who's felt the same sister separation anxiety - Ves's duty is to reunite the two once-stranded spacers. She's just got to figure out how she's supposed to get back down there.
- Ves made peace with her half-sister Amin, but only from a distance. She knows her last direct blood relative is safe in Jimmy's care - or safer than anywhere else, at least - but that's not good enough. She wants to see Amin in person again. Doesn't matter if one goes up, or the other goes down. Doesn't matter if they're going to have a hug, or curse eachother back into their old habits. A video call isn't enough.
- Money. Power. A bigger place with a better view. Ves might've cooled off from the whole "wasteland assassin" gig, but that doesn't mean she's lost her taste for nicer things.
- Walking the wastes gives you an appreciation for the finer sights in life. Ves isn't any different. As much as she'd like a better arrangement, she wants to travel. She's thought about settling down in a redworlder town, but that's not really for her. She wants to see places that aren't rotting swamps or radioactive landfills - without her stomach screaming at her. She wants to see something nice, out there in the wilderness. She knows there's more out there.
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Post by Insano-Man on Sept 20, 2018 13:32:26 GMT -5
RELATIONSHIPS- When it comes to family, Ves had it good and bad. She was born to Niza'Narun, fathered by Jaiz'Narun, and lived about half of a happy childhood with them. Both are dead now - and both under suspicious circumstances. Before she died, Niza brought Amin'Solah into the world as Ves's half-sister. Neither of the two siblings were happy about it. Raki'Sakazzah was Ves's cousin and a close business partner, up until the Red Bonfire. Ves had plenty of other cousins and distant relatives before then. They're all dead now. More pleasantly, she's in a happy, totally inexplicable marriage to Jada'Narun - who used to run by Vari'Surkovat. They're both deeply in love. They both understand it doesn't make a damned bit of sense.
- As a matter of xenophobic obligation, the Loonies aren't fond of Ves. She's not much of a fan of them, either. She's found a few of the bunkers out in the Cloneston Wasteland. It's never ended well. That's all there is to it; she's never killed a Looney and the Loonies haven't gotten around to killing her.
- The Space Loonies have a passing awareness of Ves. They don't want her. Her mom and dad acted up so bad they got the boot. Exiles aren't popular in orbit, second generation or otherwise - especially if they've gone merc in a place like Cloneston. Narun is a bit indifferent on the subject. She respects her heritage, and she's finally started to rub shoulders with them on Lebedrovez, but the Space Looney lifestyle isn't for her.
- Ves has had a few run-ins with the Cult of Meat since she got loose from the wastes. Most of them were thanks to her crew, but that's gotten her a place on a very special hit list exclusively reserved for the worst of the worst. With all that in mind, the Cult mostly sees her as another person to kill - even if her mugshot's a little meaner than usual. Whether it was her crew's fault or not, Ves is ready to live up to what the Cult sees in her.
- Narun is a classic redworlder xenophobe. As far as species go, she's not happy about working with humans. She's not very keen on unionites and a bit touchy about sorassan. Paleworlders are just right out. Cloneston took a bit of the edge off, especially around mankind, but she's always preferred her own. Clones get it rough. They're lucky just to be acknowledged as people around Ves.
- People in Cloneston know about Ves - sort of. In the city, she got the nickname of "Fair Shadow". The people that actually remember that name all think she's dead now. Word got out that she'd been killed in a gunship strike during the Siege of TransUrban Tower. It's since stuck as the official line for most senators. As far as Ves is concerned, that's the way she wants it. That means no one's going to come up looking for her.
- Ves's real history is with the Cloneston Wasteland. She's registered in a few outlying Cloneston stations as a violent offender, but that's not the important part. To the mutants and marauders of the wastes, she's one of the biggest legends of the century. To them, she's the White Hunter, a wandering spirit and a force of nature. Mutants fear her. Bandits want her skull. Ves is just glad she's not there anymore.
- Jimmy is the one man in Cloneston who knows Ves is still alive. He was the one who got her out - of the city, and the same gunship strike that nearly killed her. He also shacked her up with the bunch of rejects she's stuck with now. Ask Jimmy and he'll have some very flattering things to say about her. Ask Ves and she'll end the conversation right away.
- Ask Gregor Chuikov and he might just skin you alive. He knows he didn't get Ves. He wants that fixed. He doesn't have much force projection to chase the Fair Shadow all the way across the planet, but he's got enough spacers on his contacts list to get a few goons out to meet her. Without a city for Ves to blend into, Chuikov's sure this'll be the last time.
- There have been stranger unions than Ves'Narun and Vari'Surkovat, but most didn't turn out so happily. Ask Ves, and she'll tell you that she's not really into girls. She just had such a run of bum luck with guys that she was ready to try. With how damned weird Vari is, Ves isn't sure that's what she got, either. What she's sure of, though, is that she found her soulmate. Whatever the rest of Vari's body is made out, her heart's solid gold, as far as Ves is concerned. The fact that Ves is still alive is clear proof of that.
- Raki'Sakazzah is one of Ves's last few blood relatives. He's one of those tiny handful that knows she's still alive. She's glad she won't have to see him again. He was the one who found a way to turn most of the others into a big barbacue in the RIP Smokeout. Raki always used to talk as if he'd be happy to see Ves finish off her life's work to leave the city. Now that she's out, he's a little miffed she was actually serious about leaving.
- One wasteland legend to another, Ves knows the Dough Man. She knows the Leather Man and the Red Hand. She's been witness to its fleshy intervention, time and time again. If there's one thing she's happy about, it's that she'll never have to see that thing again. Ezimat never heard that Ves survived. He still cries when he's asked - which is something unsettling to see on an eyeless flesh monster. Some people even say he's trying to get loose into the wastes to get away from it.
- Amin'Solah is Ves's half-sister. Before TransUrban, the two hated eachother's guts. Now, she's just a little upset. She knows Ves made it out - of TransUrban, and the city itself. For once in her life, she wants her back. Ask Ves and there'll be an uncomfortable silence. She's finally found common ground with her sister - even if it was just someone they could both hate. Now, she's up in space, almost literally looking down on her. A long-distance call won't sate either of them anymore.
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Post by Insano-Man on Sept 20, 2018 13:32:42 GMT -5
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Post by Insano-Man on Sept 20, 2018 13:33:02 GMT -5
FALLING OUT
Ves was born to the wastes, but that wasn't where her cells first started dividing. Instead, her prenatal history is a bit more complicated. If she'd come a bit sooner, Ves would've been born as Ves'Narun nes'ara Messer-Bannon. Her parents were Space Loonies, Niza'Narun and Jaiz'Narun, both on the LCV Messer-Bannon. On another ship, the two might've done alright. On another ship, Ves might've grown up in happy poverty with a steady mom and dad. Instead, there were problems.
The first was that they were redworlders who'd gone human - and there weren't a whole lot of humans on the ship. They'd taken up an alien culture on a ship full of their own kind. People usually did their best not to talk to them. No one would've minded if they quietly disappeared. The worst was that they weren't all that crazy about playing by the rules. It ran in Niza's blood; she was a Sakazzah by birth. Jaiz just went along with it. The two worked in environmental together and used it to its most to rake in fuel credits. Falsifying operational reports, dumping off "surplus" parts at trade stations - if they could get away with it, they'd do it.
It caught up with the two around July of 1278 OSC, not more than a month after Ves's conception. By then, they'd racked up so many offenses that the command staff were ready to consider a round of airlock justice. People had gotten sick, nearly died, or lost time on critical work because of them - sometimes, all at once. In the end, luck was a bit more kind to Jaiz and Niza. The officers were still a bit on the fence about killing their own, so they decided on a novel solution. They'd dump them off in the worst place they could find short of an active volcano. The Wretchwoods and the Grasping Heights were a few months away on their schedule, so they settled on the next best thing; Cloneston.
No one knows how Niza was let off the ship. Rumors are all anyone's got to go on, Ves included. Ordinary Space Looney practice was to keep expectant mothers onboard to for their child's safety, pending exile or not. Some say she had medical reports forged to keep Jaiz with her. A few others say the command staff just didn't care. Whatever really happened didn't matter much in the end. Jaiz and Niza weren't Space Loonies anymore - and neither was the daughter they were smuggling down to Cloneston.
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Post by Insano-Man on Sept 20, 2018 13:33:15 GMT -5
FALLING APART
The two Naruns dropped in with a freelance freighter in August of the same year. They arrived in Cloneston to find a city that was doing its damnedest to kill them. Just a week into their stay, Niza came down with something awful. Jaiz was stabbed twice and robbed of everything but his dignity. When they finally figured out where the nearest hospital was, they were out the door the second they walked in; none of the doctors knew how to treat a redworlder. Half of them were terrified that the two were agents for one of the city's senators.
The two worked for a few months to try to break even. They had the skills to cut it in the city, but none of the know-how. The Space Loonies hadn't given them anything but a few bioreactors to keep them from starving. Even then, they lost most of them not long after landing. They went from homeless shelter to homeless shelter, chasing after every tiny tidbit of employment they could find. It was only three months in that they were able to find permanent residence - for a week, until the landlord realized they were aliens. All the while, Niza was looking rounder and rounder.
Cloneston didn't care. Jaiz was stabbed again in around October. He was picked up on suspicion of working for VANDAL in December. He went missing for a week in January after a moody tram took him halfway across the city. Both of them were saddled with disease for every minute of their lives. If it wasn't some kind of virus, it was an allergy to something their spacer skin had never touched. Niza nearly miscarried on a dozen different occasions. Neither of them ever saw medical attention.
It'd gotten so bad by February of 1279 that the two couldn't even think straight. Between all the muggings and asthma attacks, they gave up. No one's sure what exactly the two were thinking, but they decided the city wasn't for them. They packed up what they could, found a tram to the edge of Cloneston, and left by way of a sewage canal out east. Supposedly, the idea was to break loose across the wasteland and find a redworlder settlement that'd be a bit more sympathetic. Neither of them had any idea about the Drassa Enclave in the south.
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Post by Insano-Man on Sept 20, 2018 13:33:31 GMT -5
RUNNING AWAY
Things lose a lot of clarity from there on. The story goes that the wastelands were a bit more kind to the two, but only just. The toxic swamps and industrial runoff weren't that big of a deal; between their spacer immune systems and Cloneston's smog, it wasn't anything new. The mutants and raiders weren't too bad; they might've been a little more interested in skulls, but they were easier to spot and fewer in number. The lack of opportunity just didn't matter anymore. All they had to worry about was whether their bioreactor was still churning out food.
That, and Niza's impending due date. It was the worst situation imaginable for a spacer. They were trapped in a blighted hellhole with a daughter on the way and a doctor missing from the picture. The likely scenario was that Niza and her child were both going to die in the process. If things went well, only one of them would end up dead - and Jaiz would end up burdened with the sickly survivor. Finally, on the 23rd of May in 1279, about two months late, Niza delivered. Christened in the slime of the wastes was Ves'Narun, already sick from an infection her mother had picked up a week prior.
Wasteland legend claims that Ves was delivered dead and rose as a wandering ghost. The truth was a sight more impressive. Somehow, in a miracle unbecoming of the badlands, both Ves and Niza survived. Not only that, Ves kept growing. She made it through her infancy without a hitch. It wasn't long before she was waddling alongside her parents and playing in wasteland muck. She learned fast, too. By 7, she was using handguns better than her dad. By 8, she knew how to line up shots with a rifle in the middle of a sandstorm.
At the same time, she was shrugging off the worst of the wastes. Her parents had coughing fits any time something tore on their patchwork pressure suits. Ves was bound up in whatever soggy rags they could find, all without so much as a sniffle. It hardly made sense; she was a pint-sized juggernaut that should've died before she was even born. Instead, the wastes welcomed her in. Ask Ves about it and she'll give you the same answer every time; as sleazy as they might've been with the Space Loonies, her parents were solid. In any other hands, she would've never made it past her first year.
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Post by Insano-Man on Sept 20, 2018 13:33:42 GMT -5
SPLITTING UP
In 1287, things took a difficult turn. The three had caught the attention of a mutant warband, the Penjiggi Squattalumders. It was a cultish horde of hare-brained half-shamans who figured it was some kind of holy labor to kill off a family of three. Only a week after Ves's birthday, the Squattalumders launched their assault. A three-ring circus of scapula-swinging freaks on motorcycles circled around their camp. When the mutants closed in, the Naruns split up. Ves went one way and her parents went another.
For a few weeks, the three tried to link back up. Every time, the mutants showed up before they could get close. One way or another, Jaiz and Niza managed to get a message to Ves; stay back, lay low, and let the heat die down. The child of the wastes was on her own. It didn't stop the Squattalumders from chasing after, but she knew the land better than they did. Glowing eyes or not, catching a tiny sniper on her home turf wasn't easy. A little less than a month later, they were off the Naruns' case and back into the wastes.
There was just one problem. Ves had no idea where her parents were. They had no idea where she was. They'd been run off so far that Ves could've been hit by a storm and her parents would've never seen the clouds. It was only by the grace of foresight that everyone had their own supply of food. It was there that the legend of the White Hunter took its first steps. The Squattalumders went home with stories about a pair of white dots putting tiny holes in foreheads. Somewhere out in the wastes was the genuine article, hitting up every bandit camp and rusty town for her parents. Word got around - just not fast enough to make a difference for Ves.
People were always a little surprised to see a redworlder turn up. Most didn't even know what a redworlder was. Just about every town thought Ves was a mutant and shut their doors tight. Some even chased her off. It took about a month of hiking and hunting for someone to finally let her in - so to speak. It wasn't her parents, but it was a couple looking for a daughter all the same - so to say. One night, Kathleen and Matthias Webley happened upon Ves's roost somewhere out in the northeast highlands. The two were looking for shelter from a storm. What they found was a terrified orphan clutching a rifle in her sleep.
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Post by Insano-Man on Sept 20, 2018 13:33:54 GMT -5
SWITCHING UP
In the morning, Ves ended up as the foster daughter of two humans. The fine details on how it went down have never met the light of day. Bonding was a difficult process for the two. For Kathleen and Matthias, they'd just adopted a fighty young girl with gleaming eyes and an awful language barrier. Neither knew anything about redworlders. Until they found Ves, they didn't even know they existed. Worse still, the tables had turned; Ves was a walking biohazard for the both of them. Whenever she was too close, there were fevers, rashes, or worse.
The language barrier was as much a problem for Ves as it was for her new parents. She could only speak enough English to tell people to stop shooting at her. Her parents had taught her Qashanish and not much more. She never suffered the same kind of allergies her handlers had, but humans were still new to her. Ves had only ever seen them from a distance - and most were just the template for a sideshow's worth of mutant horrors. If not mutants, raiders. If not raiders, clones - half-crazed and otherwise.
For Ves, the worst part of it was the permanence. Kathleen and Matthias hadn't a clue about her missing parents. Both thought they were dead - or that they were half-sentient mutants that'd just eat Ves as soon as they saw her. They intended to keep her for good. Ves didn't need to speak the language to know what they were talking about. She wasn't happy about it. At least six separate times, she tried her best to get loose, find her real parents, and leave the sniffling pinkskins behind.
Problems compounded problems. On her first attempt, she was hit by a storm and reject clones before she could get a mile from camp. Not long after coming back, her foster parents wised up. They realized she was tethered to the handmade bioreactor her parents left her. On the second attempt, Ves charted a clear path out and away. As soon as she snuck out, she found out her sole source of food had been confiscated. For the two humans, they were just protecting the girl from being trapped out in the wastes. For Ves, she was being held hostage by aliens while her real parents were suffering alone.
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Post by Insano-Man on Sept 20, 2018 13:34:05 GMT -5
BREAKING UP
Tensions escalated over the course of about four months. Kathleen and Matthias didn't have any direction; they just wanted to be away from the city. They wandered around the wastes, dragging Ves along behind them, with the girl's feet digging deeper and deeper with each step. Around halfway through their association, after yet another escape attempt, Matthias lost his patience. Whenever things got rough, Ves was his punching bag. First it was just verbal abuse, useless cursing in a language Narun didn't understand. It didn't take long before that escalated to knuckles and backhands. Kathleen caught him only once - and promptly ignored it.
The fact that the two didn't turn up as wasteland skeletons was nothing short of a miracle. Ves had killed before. She'd shot mutants through the teeth and wiped the blood off her rifle herself. At 8, she was approaching Kathleen's height. Matthias wasn't much taller. She wasn't afraid of them. She just wasn't a sociopath, either - not yet, at least. Given enough time, enough abuse, and enough days spent thinking about her mom and dad, that could've changed.
Could have, if it wasn't for the clones. Around November of 1287, a Cloneston air patrol found the Webleys. Conveniently, it ignored Ves. The two humans didn't know anything about the wasteland abductions. They figured the clones were just loitering a little longer than usual. Ves was a waster to the bone - she'd seen it plenty of times. She snatched back her food jar, ran for the hills, and watched Pedro steal away her two biggest problems. Once the gunships were gone, Ves gathered up her things and hit the trail again. She didn't shed a tear over the two. She just wanted to figure out what was left for her.
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Post by Insano-Man on Sept 20, 2018 13:34:15 GMT -5
RUNNING BACK
A few weeks of searching led Ves to a bombed-out mining facility. Outside, it was a jagged ruin half-sunk into a muddy bog. Inside, it was Stringer's Sinkhole, a trading hotspot for slavers, raiders, and mutants of all walks. Ves wasn't exactly the kind of company they were looking for - not without a price tag, anyways - but they let her in either way. The establishment didn't have a prohibition against kids with guns. Seated inside, in a corner as far away from everything as physically possible, was exactly who Ves was looking for. One of them, at least.
Niza wasn't selling, for sale, or even buying. She was just there, a stray from out in the wastes, looking for somewhere a little less radioactive. The reunion for the two was the definition of bittersweet; Jaiz had gone missing during a clone air raid. A bit suspiciously, it was around the same time the Webleys took to the sky. There wasn't much argument on what their course was. Catching up could happen on the road. Tears of joy could wait until dad was home. They packed everything together, exchanged what they could for supplies, and made for Cloneston. If Jaiz was anywhere, that was their best shot.
Getting back into Cloneston was an awkward challenge. On the one hand, no one was trying to keep them out. The mutants might've wanted payback on the little sniper that could, but they weren't forming blockades - just hunting parties. On the other hand, no one was welcoming them back in. The clones weren't going to scoop up a couple of redworlders out of the goodness of their heart analogues. The wastes weren't going to show them in. The raging AI wars at the bottom of the city weren't going to put themselves on hold.
It took two months. Getting back inside was something that nearly killed the older Narun three different times. She climbed Cloneston's staircase of sorrow without any toes on her right foot and a finger gone from her right hand. Ves made it with just a few bumps, bruises, and psychological scars. Along the way, someone pointed them south. It was the first time either had heard about the Drassa Enclave. Niza was ready to kill herself over the news - she'd raised a daughter out in Hell thanks to pure ignorance. Ves was so soaked-through with toxic muck that somewhere that was just normal sounded like a bad joke.
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Post by Insano-Man on Sept 20, 2018 13:34:40 GMT -5
SETTLING IN
Sure enough, Drassa was real. It was the only one of its kind in Cloneston; a city within the city, carved out by redworlders, for redworlders. The Naruns got the same welcome they would've gotten in any other redworlder town. Here was a woman half-dead from wasteland slime and infected gunshot wounds. Here was her daughter, uneducated and paranoid about everything around her. They went straight to a clinic, walked out without paying a dime, and continued on to a free house. Granted, everything was on the cheap; self-taught doctors, homemade drugs, and a shanty slathered up against the outer wall of a tram tunnel. Still, it was a better deal than Cloneston had ever given the Naruns.
By the time all was said and done, Niza was on the brink of insanity. The welcome had only made it sink in even more. Drassa was right there the whole time, but she and her husband opted to run screaming out into the badlands. She'd lost her daughter for months. She got her back only to lose her better half. Not even a week in, something snapped. She left Ves to the care of the community and left. She was out to find Jaiz or die trying. If she was going to feel like an idiot, she wasn't going to do it alone.
Somewhere else in Cloneston, it would've been the worst choice of Niza's life. Leaving Ves to her own devices would've been like tossing a strip of bacon into a crab den. Instead, in Drassa, it was the same as any other redworlder community. Ves was shy, damaged, and just a little radioactive, but she was there to stay. Drassa made sure of it. She was kept fed and safe by her neighbors. She was coaxed into a school by the night watch. Things were normal. For once, Ves wasn't sleeping with a knife or a pistol. Things were very normal.
For her, it was something strange. Something alien. She was still a little waster at heart. People were supposed to be stabbing her for salvage or hurling ribs at her for blinking too much. There were no freakish mutants with dead, black dots in their eyes. There was just that comforting light she'd always associated with her parents. People were helping her. She was getting free food that didn't taste like skin flakes. She was so confused with the whole thing that she hardly even noticed it when, a few weeks later, Niza returned.
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Post by Insano-Man on Sept 20, 2018 13:34:50 GMT -5
GIVING UP
Jaiz wasn't with her. Somewhere along the way, Cloneston had finally caught up with him. He'd been beaten to death somewhere out in the city - why, nobody knew. It wasn't much of a surprise that Ves didn't realize her mom had come back. The woman that came back with the news wasn't Niza. It wasn't Ves's mother. It was a hollow shell, a widow who'd lost every bit of herself. It only took a month before people in Drassa saw the writing on the wall. It was going to be their job to take over as Ves's parents, one way or another. Niza wasn't going to be able to take care of her.
Niza could hardly take care of herself. She was so riddled with pain and complications from her time out in the wastes that she was stuck chasing after every pill and needle she could find. Pain medications gave way to harder and harder drugs. If she wasn't breaking down in public, she was stoned out of her mind - most times, not even at home. Drassa kept up the charade for as long as possible. They nurtured Ves as one of their own just as they had when Niza wasn't in the picture. Every time they tried to get her real mother back into the picture, it just made things worse.
Something happened around the end of March. Niza found a wake-up call she wasn't ready for; she was pregnant again, with another daughter only six months away. The details on how it happened are slippery. Murky rumors are all anyone's got to go on. Somewhere in her addled mind, the real Niza woke up. She couldn't make peace with what had all happened. She left in a hurry without so much as a single goodbye to her daughter. No one in Drassa was all that surprised. Ves was heartbroken.
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