#finally a starter

The brief meeting with the Vastayan didn’t end up the way the noble had hoped for. It was understandable considering his ambitions sounded...dare he say it? Made him appear a little crazy. He disagrees as his purpose, long overdue, was to gain a kingdom for himself. To be the king of many who would follow him and rend those who opposed him. His lovely cabal has been doing so much for him already. Continuing to serve him and gain information that would help quicken his goal. 

All he had to do was gain more persons to aid him. So that he could use them until there was nothing left they would offer. If they wish to serve him, he wouldn’t deny them of that pleasure. The noble adored those who kneel and kiss his feet. 

Vladimir had ventured into Ionia once again. Waiting a couple of days for their interaction to fade into the past. He would ask him one more time as he seemed the perfect fit for his needs. Someone who would be at center stage while he handled matters in the shadows. Only a few things before he would join and cause havoc.

The noble dusted off a speck on his shoulder that wasn’t there,making his way to the pit. The sounds of cheering and curses gradually grew louder the closer he got. Pale eyes studied the place around him, taking in the familiar sights as well as making sure there was no attention on him. Keeping to the shadows while he watched many persons busy drinking and shouting among one another. It reminded him of the arena in Noxus. So loud and much much smellier. But it did entertain him enough whenever he was bored. Watching people bleed always brought him pleasure. 

Hands clasped behind his back, eyes wandering over to where the Boss of the pit was. The sight of the man only brought a smile to his fine features. It was good that he didn’t have to wait long until he appeared. He’d rather get things done as soon as possible. The level of patience dwindled when he didn’t get what he wanted. 

Footsteps stepped softly against the hard floor, making his way to the area where the Boss was. His eyes fell upon the guards that were stationed there. A familiar one that he played with was there. Would he remember the noble? He would be upset if he didn’t. Flirting with him and using him to demonstrate his abilities.

A soft smile appearing upon his lips, making his voice gentle and friendly. 

“ GOOD MORNING , AANG. ”  katara’s already up sitting at the pot , stirring the liquid around with soft pulls by her bending. she fixes him with a smile. “ you’re just in time for breakfast. do you mind grabbing the bowls over there for me ? ” 

      “ah -- -- ! ”

      it’s with this wretched little sigh of hers that the imp materializes into a shadow being, bent over an imaginary surface, her chin cradled in both hands. midna lets her eyes go hooded, go bored -- it’s with this boredom that she watches the ‘ fated hero ‘ nurse her newest bruise.

>Recognized PROJECT. >Object name: ZED >Proceed.

Solicitor Carlton had been decent, that was what had decided him. A year ago when the first trial had been underway and no one had given a bent credit for his survival, Carlton had been the only one in his corner.Certainly, he’d been paid to defend Lt. Thomas Hastings in the military proceedings, but even so, he could have been a lot more obvious about his lack of enthusiasm. So when, two months after there had been a Galaxy-Wide call for his arrest pursuant new evidence in the Capricorn Case, Carlton had made contact over a secure channel and claimed to be acting for Greg, Thomas hadn’t thought too long before agreeing to a meeting. 

It seemed a bit strange that after all this time, and after House Hastings had officially cut their ties with their personal black sheep, Greg should actually initiate contact with him. But then again, the family hadn’t much liked being in the spotlight the first time and might not want the whole business dragged through the courts again, especially if - as he rather expected - it were to end up with a ceremonial execution. No, it wasn’t hard to talk himself into believing the stoic solicitor when he explained that Greg Hastings, last scion of House Hastings, wanted to arrange for his disgraced brother’s immediate disappearance. He was a little relieved that Greg hadn’t decided to just arrange for his disposal in a more direct and permanent way. Perhaps there was some small shred of familial connection left between them even now? It was something to hope for, maybe. 

At the end of the interview he had been given a small transportation device and a lump sum of credits which would allow him to settle in comfort wherever he was being sent - a lot more than he could have asked for. At that moment perhaps Thomas should have remembered the fact that his brother had been working in the Inter-Time and Dimensional Transportation Division of the Military Sciences. Perhaps that would have aroused his now habitual caution when being made an offer that was far too good to be true. Call it sentimentality. Call it family. Call it what you will, he didn’t remember and he didn’t suspect until he activated the device and the world corkscrewed around him instead of merely fading away. 

It was some time later that he came to himself, lying on a wet, hard surface and already shivering from the rain pelting down around him. Weather, he thought disjointedly. Something that hadn’t existed in major cities for many decades now. Where was he? The floor was hard, rough. He felt it with a cautious palm, and couldn’t quite make it out - not anything like the slick pathways of New London - also nothing he could have expected to find in the country, no farmed grass or corn heavy on the air, no low hum of greenhouses. 

Where was he?

Thomas opened an eye and closed it immediately, a spike of pain shooting through his head in response to the sudden light. Wherever he was, the journey had left him feeling like he had been caught in the exhaust fan of a space bus and churned around for a few thousand cycles. Despite the very logical, very real truth that he needed to get moving, and get moving fast before he started looking suspicious to whatever authorities were in charge around here, Thomas found the idea of moving downright nauseating for the time being and opted for trying to understand his surroundings from what he could feel and hear first. Cold hard surface. Rain. Wet. Sounds - shouting, the rumble of engines - but what engines? That was a pitch too low for the solar-powered vehicles that ran in most Human colonies. A rumble, in fact. Loud alarms - insistent beeping, voices in a muted hum all around him. The words he could make out certainly seemed to be of the Common Tongue but - lacking in nuance. Full of words that were unfamiliar to him. Perhaps Greg had sent him to a Human Colony on an alien belt planet? Perhaps one of the colonies currently conquered by the Circati? That would have been a last ironic gesture from his older brother. 

Trying to understand the mystery was simply making his head hurt more, so Thomas reached around until he felt a wall at his side and slowly, very slowly sat up, preparing himself for the unfortunate necessity of opening his eyes.