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#Adrasteia – November 20, 2017
November 28th. 22:38. Near the center of Adrasteia there's a much different vibe than on the outskirts by The Blossom. It's lively. Clean. Almost sterile. For a few city blocks around the Torthus-Cross building, it could almost be mistaken for a city back on Earth. Almost. Guard posts are never more than a couple blocks apart in any direction and the Enforcers roam the streets, armored and armed to the teeth. But, as was the case the
previous night, there doesn't seem to be much trouble. Citizens go about their business freely, most passing by the armed guards without so much as a batted eyelash. Unlike the outskirts, no space is wasted. No abandoned buildings. Spiffy apartment complexes and storefronts line the streets, the neon glow of their signs casting reflections in the puddles and slush left behind when the plows barrel down the street. This close to Cross' tower,
one nearly has to crane their neck back to see the top. And then, among all of the rebuilt and revitalized buildings, a single one-story prefabricated building stands out like a sore thumb. "Burd's Art & Shit" reads the sign above the front door, each end of the sign flanked by a bird with large X's for eyes. Across the street from Burd's, a screen on the side of the building is playing a Torthus-Cross ad. A female turian dressed in fine
clothing addresses the camera. "...during a time of turmoil and tensions. But Mr. Cross did not allow this to dissuade him. And what began with a simple handshake between himself and Idus Torthus not only grew into a partnership and business-venture which now stretches across the galaxy, but- far more importantly- helped to bridge the gap between human and turian relations. " she recites.
Dawn heads down the street with an occasional assessing glance cast at the Enforcers that patrol the streets. She lets out a quiet snort under her breath when she notices the sign for Burd's place, and starts heading toward it. When near the door the ad across the street catches her attention, and she spends a while listening in silence to it, a thoughtful look on her face. Once she decides she's heard enough she heads through the
door of the out-of-place building. She's wearing her winter coat as well as her sleek backpack and a cowl scarf, having left the cloak and the rest of her luggage in the room she's renting.
The inside of the building, much like the outside, seems to have been missed by all of those 'revitalization' credits being tossed around by Cross. It's old. Run down. But it's not dirty. Across from the door are five tattoo stations, each separated by a waist-high wall. An assortment of holographic photos line the walls of the room, displaying all manner of tattoo and other assorted modifcations they've performed. The photos shift every few
second, running through numerous albums. A biotiball match is on a screen mounted high on the wall to Dawn's right. There don't seem to be any customers currently, but a large krogan is seated in an even larger chair at the right-most station. He's leaned far back, large arms folded across one another. He's at least as big as Brix was. Tribal-like self-inflicted scars adorn his face, starting on the outside of his cheeks and arching inwards
towards the center of his face and the upper ridge of the plating on his head heas been replaced with some sort of silver metal alloy. Seated atop the dividing wall beside him is a drell. Unnatural icy blue eyes that match his complexion nicely. Large hooped piercings line his brow. He's wearing a grey, short-sleeved t-shirt and a pair of tight, black pants to go with his long black boots. Both of their eyes are fixed on the screen.
Dawn 's gaze wanders around the place as she enters. The lack of customers, or activity of any sort, seems to throw her a little, and the question quickly tossed her way catches her a little off-guard. It takes her a moment to focus her attention on Burd and the drell. She takes a few steps inside, glancing at the screen as she considers her response. "Slow day?" she asks, her gaze returning Burd, studying his ornamental scars and
Burd doesn't respond immediately. He continues to focus on the screen, watching with great interest. It's only when there's a lull in the action that finally looks Dawn's way. He gives a brief glance down the row of tattoo stations. "Eh." he grunts, "Nature of the business. Ya have your bad nights and ya have your good nights." He leaves it at that, assuming the lack of customers will assist in telling her what kind of night this particular
one is. He sits up, seemingly accepting that his rest and relaxation has come to an end. "You come here to talk at me or you here to get some work done?" he asks dismissively, his tone implying that the former is the less desirable option.
Dawn 's gaze wanders across the various photos that line the walls, her hands lingering in the pockets of her coat as she seems to evaluate the depictions of their work. "It is, isn't it?" she says in response to his first comment, a faint hint of an almost wistful smile briefly tugging at her lips before fading. Only when Burd asks her a direct question does she look his way. "I'm not sure." she says with a small shrug. "I'm... new
Burd nods to himself. "Talking to the right people then, kid." he says, remaining seated. "Have-..." he's interrupted as the drell beside him leans forward. The silent mannerism is all that Burd needs to do to know he's missing something good. He looks towards the screen, suddenly leaning forward himself, resting his large arms on his treetrunk-like legs. Soon enough, his head snaps away. "Ah, fuck." he growls, casting a sneer towards the
drell whose only response is a wry smirk. Action over, his attention returns to Dawn with a grunt and he gestures along the wall beside Dawn, presumably to the photos. "Have at it. Been here forever, so we'd need a second place if we wanted to show off all of our work, but the pictures should give ya an idea of what we're capable of." He seems to think that's the end of the conversation, settling right back into his large, comfy chair.
Then, as if recalling something, he gives a nod her way. "Look all ya want. But you try and steal something and I'll break your arms off." he adds. It barely even sounds like a threat. Just a statement of fact.
Dawn 's gaze is inevitably drawn to the screen as well. A cold scowl makes itself known as she watches the biotically assisted acrobatics of the players, a small shake of her head following as she forces a netural expression back into place as her attention turns back to Burd. She gives a nod, unzipping her coat the hoodie underneath it, hanging them over the chair nearest the entrance. In a black tank top now, the sleeve tattoos
that cover the scars on her arms are clearly visible now - swirling dark clouds interspersed with with violet flowers. Half of an ECG line tattooed over her heart is also visible, as are two characters on her neck and upper back, running along her spine - 生 and き. She walks slowly along the wall once free of her winter wear, taking her time in studying the photos of tattoos and other modification. Her expression is thoughtful,
The photos are numerous. Holographic displays slowly shuffling from one photo to the next. From simple tattoos to full body scarification. Subdermal implants to surface piercings. It seems there's little they don't dabble in when it comes to body modification. Despite the less-than-luxurious digs, one thing is certain: Burd expects quality from his employees. Nothing looks halfassed. Which means it's also probably expensive. The photo in front
of Dawn shifts to a man and a young woman side-by-side. Both have olive complexions. The man has a bright blue design that flows up his cheeks and across his browline, obviously imitating an asari's facial markings. The woman is a canvas of tattoos. Full sleeves. Hands. A star on her right temple. She's tugging down the top of her black tanktop to display fresh ink. A red and blue banner with containing elegant asari script. [Those Without
Fear of Death]. And then it fades away, the image replaced with a human man who has undergone extreme facial implants that enlarge his browline and cheekbones to an unnatural degree.
Burd seems content with focusing on his game, paying no mind to Dawn whatsoever. He rarely has to worry about customers. A threat is all it ever takes to keep them in line. Eventually, he passes a glance her way. He remains quiet, not bothering to pull her attention until he's finished studying her tattoos. "Looks to me like you already got yourself an artist, kid." he muses aloud, a bit of occupational respect. The artwork seems to have
The photos are numerous. Holographic displays slowly shuffling from one photo to the next. From simple tattoos to full body scarification. Subdermal implants to surface piercings. It seems there's little they don't dabble in when it comes to body modification. Despite the less-than-luxurious digs, one thing is certain: Burd expects quality from his employees. Nothing looks halfassed. Which means it's also probably expensive. The photo in front
of Dawn shifts to a man and a young woman side-by-side. Both have olive complexions. The man has a bright blue design that flows up his cheeks and across his browline, obviously imitating an asari's facial markings. The woman is a canvas of tattoos. Full sleeves. Hands. A star on her right temple. She's tugging down the top of her black tanktop to display fresh ink. A red and blue banner with containing elegant asari script. [Those Without
Fear of Death]. And then it fades away, the image replaced with a human man who has undergone extreme facial implants that enlarge his browline and cheekbones to an unnatural degree.
Burd seems content with focusing on his game, paying no mind to Dawn whatsoever. He rarely has to worry about customers. A threat is all it ever takes to keep them in line. Eventually, he passes a glance her way. He remains quiet, not bothering to pull her attention until he's finished studying her tattoos. "Looks to me like you already got yourself an artist, kid." he muses aloud, a bit of occupational respect. The artwork seems to have
Dawn 's attention is abruptly brought back to the here and now as Burd speaks, and she turns her head to look at him. It takes her a moment, and a glance down at one of her arms, before she responds. "I... did." she says, emphasizing the past tense. Her gaze lingers on her left arm, which she holds out in front of herself as she speaks. "Everything but the back is her work." She frowns after speaking, not entirely sure why she
Burd silently continues to study the work from across the room. "Well I don't do coverups." he finally warns with a huff, "Not on work like that. It's just disrespectful."
Dawn furrows her eyebrows. "I don't need any coverups." she's quick to reply, but Burd's apparent appreciation of the work done negates any offense she might have voiced at the suggestion of it. Her gaze moves on to the tattooing stations as she wanders further into the room. "I do my own work now. Don't suppose you have a remote rig?"
/npcac Burd gives an amused snort, looking to his drell employee. "Look at this one." he muses through a grin before returning his attention to Dawn with a shake of his head. "Sorry, kid. We ain't the Citadel." He gestures to the apparatus hanging from the ceiling above the almost dentist-like chair beside him. "But you tell me what you want? I'll take care of ya." he offers before giving
a toothy grin towards the drell. "Unless you're looking for a softer touch." he continues in an almost antagonizing tone as he pats the back of his hand against the drell's chest, "Then you're Ronin's problem."
Burd gives an amused snort, looking to his drell employee. "Look at this one." he muses through a grin before returning his attention to Dawn with a shake of his head. "Sorry, kid. We ain't the Citadel." He gestures to the apparatus hanging from the ceiling above the almost dentist-like chair beside him. "But you tell me what you want? I'll take care of ya." he offers before giving a toothy grin towards the drell. "Unless you're looking for
a softer touch." he continues in an almost antagonizing tone as he pats the back of his hand against the drell's chest, "Then you're Ronin's problem."
Ronin doesn't seem to take any offense to it. As a matter of fact, he finally gives a glance Dawn's way. His icy stare locking onto her before he gives a short bow of his head.
Dawn looks back to the two of them. She meets Ronin's gaze when he looks at her, giving a slight bow of her head in return before turning her attention to Burd. "I... prefer to do my own work." she says, but something seems to occur to her as she studies the bulky krogan, and she adds: "But I'll keep that in mind." She crosses her arms and looks to her side, studying the biotiball match on the screen for a moment as she thinks. "I
understand you're something of a fixture in Adrasteia. Don't suppose you could give a newcomer some pointers?" she asks, looking back to Burd, one eyebrow raised slightly.
Burd studies Dawn for a moment, suddenly realizing this visit probably isn't about tattoos. He gives an annoyed grumble as he settles back into his seat, his attention moving back to the screen. "Fixture." he repeats with a snort, a bit of enthusiasm drained from his voice. "That's a new one. Been here longer than that over-compensating-prick's tower, I can tell ya that. Shit, kid, I was here when they laid the first road down. But yeah,
let's go with 'fixture'. I'm a fixture." He falls silent for a moment as his large eyes scan back and forth across the screen. "I'm also not known for my patience." he finally adds, "So if you ain't a paying customer, then how about you cut the crap and say what you need to say?"
Ronin has no interest in interrupting either party. He just remains perched atop his makeshift seat, eyes on the screen, showing no interest in the pair's conversation.
Dawn gives a nod in acknowledgement of Burd's words, keeping her gaze on him despite the fact that he's looking at the screen. "Alright. Short version, then. I've heard rumors that Cross has biotics working for him. Human biotics. Powerful ones. But information is... spotty. Any truth to those rumors?" she says, arms still crossed as she studies him, expression inscrutable.
Burd's attention finally returns to Dawn as she drops Cross' name. At the mention of his biotics, he shifts in place uncomfortably. He turns to Ronin, giving the drell a small nod. "That rolly-polly motherfucker should be coming around next month. How about you go through the supplies one last time. Figure out what we'll need to last us through summer.
Ronin doesn't need to be told, but he plays his part, acknowledging Burd's request to give him privacy with a melodic: "Of course." He passes another glance Dawn's way, accompanied by a polite bow of his head before he departs into the back room.
Dawn watches Ronin leave, her expression unchanged. Once they're alone her attention turns back to Burd, and she lifts her left hand slightly in a dismissive gesture. "My name's Dawn. Not with anyone. I've come a long way looking for answers."
Burd snorts loudly. "Heard that one before, kid. Children of Aite?" he asks, clearly not convinced. "I'm gonna tell you the same thing I told the last guy. I ain't interested in getting involved." A scowl crosses his features and, soon enough, he rises from his seat as another theory enters his mind. With a roll of his thick shoulders, he stomps closer to Dawn, glaring down at her. His goal is obvious: Intimidation. "Or maybe you're one of
Cross' little puppets here to play more games." he continues through clenched teeth, giving Dawn a nice whiff of his hot breath, "Looking to see what I'm willing to say? Is that it?"
Dawn seems unfazed as Burd stomps up to her, staring him right in the eye, even when she has to crane her neck considerably to do so, his krogan breath in her face. "I have no stake in the conflicts of this place." she says, unflinching. She gains hard look to her face as she adds, almost in a snarl: "And I'm damn well nobody's puppet."
Burd continues to hold Dawn's gaze for an uncomfortable few moments, his rank breath filling the small gap between him and her. Maybe it's her lack of fear, or perhaps the conviction in which she defends herself from his accusations. Whatever it is, something causes Burd to back down. He turns on his heels, loudly stomping back towards his seat. "It used to be easy. You got a problem? You take him out or he takes you out. None of this
politics bullshit..." he growls before turning back around and dropping into his chair. The piece of furniture buckles slightly under his weight, a low groan sounding out, but it holds.
Dawn scrunches up her nose after Burd turns, the smell having been just about the most challenging part of the standoff. After a breath of fresh...ish air upon his departure she responds, letting her arms drop to her sides. "Sounds like a lot changed here after this Cross person arrived." She doesn't immediately press her question again.
Burd nods to himself. "The whole damn game changed, kid. Got an asshole sitting up in his little castle, playing general and trying to sweep all of the bodies he leaves behind under a rug with a pocket full of credits. Got assholes running around the city, planting their bombs just to try and get under the skin of the other asshole. And a whole lot of people who didn't ask for this stuck between them. But ya know what? Most of them are
assholes, too. Because the moment Cross offers to fill their accounts? They'll forget everything he did to our city in a heartbeat. To our people." his hand tightens around the end of the armrest on his chair. A small fissure begins to form across it, but he realizes and releases his grip before it outright cracks. "Don't take the credits? You're on Asshole Number One's shitlist. Don't pass along info that's likely to get a handful
of good people killed? You're on Asshole Number Two's shitlist. Wish they would hurry the fuck up and finish killing one another already so I can work in peace."
Dawn listens in silence as Burd laments the situation in Adrasteia, seeming in no real rush. Her gaze is drawn to the armrest as it nearly buckles under the pressure of his grip. The last comment elicits a quiet snort. "Like I said... I'm not interested in taking any sides here. Just looking for answers." she says with a small shrug, crossing her arms again as her gaze moves to the screen, faint hint of a frown returning as she
Burd follows Dawn's gaze to the screen, but the slight fluctuation in mood is lost on him. "Smart. That's how you stay alive." he responds as he looks back to her. Another moment passes before he decides to finally decides to answer her initial question. "Powerful human biotics. Human." he repeats with an amused snort. "Been around my fair share of humans, kid. Plenty of good ones, and plenty of assholes. But those two?" he gives a
shake of his head as his gaze returns to the game on the screen, "They're not human. They're just a couple of varren waiting for Cross to release their leashes. Nah-..." he seems to reconsider with a shake of his head, "...Not varren. Varren are loyal. Those two are just a couple of wild animals looking to sink their teeth into someone."
Dawn raises an eyebrow as she looks back to Burd, her interest obviously piqued. "So it's true. What can you tell me about them?"
Burd continues to stare at the screen for a few moments before finally looking back to Dawn. "Not a whole lot. That leash Cross keeps them on? It's a short one. And if Cross is around, you can bet your ass they ain't too far away. But he tends to keep them out of sight. After the show they put on when Cross first showed his ass in Adrasteia, I figure he's worried about appearances. Hoping to let things be forgotten. Well-..." he snorts
Dawn goes quiet, processing all of Burd's words. Her reaction is subtle, but undeniable. Her gaze moves off to the wall, pursing her lips as she thinks. There's a slight tremble to her right hand. She clenches it into a fist, briefly closing her eyes. Breathe in... and out. In. Out. Eventually she speaks again, looking back at Burd. "So... I take it the best way to find them would be through Cross?" she asks, seemingly entirely
Burd gives a loud, hearty laugh. It's not until he realizes she's not joining in that it begins to die down. "Look, kid. I ran with an asari Huntress for long enough to lap your life ten times over. One of the best." He brings a meaty hand up, running his thick fingers across the plating over his head, "...I'm good friends with trouble and no stranger to biotics, believe me. But the shit I've seen them do?" he gives a small shake of his
head, "It's enough to make a tired old krogan blush. I don't know what you're looking for, but trust me, you don't want any part of that."
Dawn 's gaze lowers briefly, Burd's words only serving to reinforce her suspicions. She shakes her head, her gaze moving to her right hand, which she holds out in front of herself, turning it over as she studies it. "I appreciate the advice, old man." she says, in a tone that suggests otherwise. "But I'm not turning back now. I have to find them."
Burd's attention moves to Dawn's hand as well, an unamused snort as she gets her shots in. "Why?" he asks sharply, his gaze rising to meet hers again. "See, all I know is any time those freaks show their faces, people start getting hurt. You want to shake some trees and see what falls out? It's your life. Waste it however you like. But, whether the asshole in the ivory tower wants to admit it or not, Adrasteia is still my city. And I
Dawn 's gaze snaps back to Burd's face, her arms clenching into fists and shooting down to her sides as swirls of biotic energy form and flow down her arms, highly visible, volatile biotic fields surrounding both hands. There seems to be something happening beneath her skin as she channels her biotics - at the spot of each flower amid the clouds on her arms there's a faint violet glow. "They're not the only freaks around..." she
responds through gritted teeth, more biotic energy continuously surrounding her - some of the smaller nearby tattooing implements clatter and hover just slightly above where they were placed. There's a growing sense of eletricity to the air, and there's a static crackle to the biotiball broadcast. Her gaze remains locked onto Burd's, her feet rooted in place.
Burd's gaze bounces from Dawn to the flickering screen then, finally, towards the the nook that leads to the back room. Where he keeps his old Graal. He's quick to his feet for a creature of his size, the sheer force causing the massive chair the skitter back a few steps, stopping just before it would crash into his station. "You don't want to do this, kid!" he growls, clearly taking her show as a threat. He plants his feet shoulder-width
Dawn draws in a deep breath, the tension in her body obvious. As is its release as she exhales, eyes closing for a moment as the biotic energy disappates. The tools that started to float fall back to where they were, perhaps slightly out of order. "No. I don't." she agrees with a slight shake of her head, sounding almost drained as she looks at Burd. "I'm not looking to 'start any shit'. I'm just looking for answers. And they have
them." The electricity in the air seems to linger for a while after her display, but the screen is quickly back to normal.
Burd doesn't immediately stand down, hands low and out in front of him, ready to make his move. The snarl etched into his features remains long after the tools have lowered back down. He looks back towards the spot he stows his Graal one last time and then.... reigns himself in. "Cute trick." he finally grunts dismissively, though he certainly shows no sign of sitting back down, her display clearly having rattled him. "I don't know what you
want from me, kid. Cross tolerates me." he says, minding the spacing between him and the potential aggressor, arms still tensed, "Because he has no choice. Because he knows damn well that putting me in the ground would light a fire under these people's asses that he ain't ready to deal with yet. But those fre-... Those mutts of his? I got no pull with them."
Dawn continues to let the remaining tension drain from her body, her own stance relaxing and her fists opening. "I asked for pointers and I got them." she says, glancing off to the side, almost looking briefly embarrased by the outburst. She brings her right hand up to her temple, rubbing it with a drawn-out sigh. "I don't except anything else. I'll figure out the rest on my own." She turns, rather uncermoniously starting to head
Burd unclenches his wide row of teeth. His fists loosen, falling down to his sides. His gaze travels down her arms, lingering on the tattoos. "What kind of answers are you looking for?" he asks bluntly when she reaches her clothes, the anger finally having left his voice.
Dawn grabs her hoodie, putting it on first before moving on to the coat. "Won't know until I have them." she says with a small shrug, figuring a complete rebuffal won't go over too well after Burd answering her questions. There's a bit of lingering discomfort in both her voice and expression, perhaps regretting her show of force. After putting on her jacket she pulls a pill bottle out of an inner pocket, unscewing the lid and
Burd's gaze remains on the tattoos on Dawn's arm right up until they're covered by her jacket. He grinds his teeth against one another as he listens. "And how in the hell do you plan on getting close enough to get these answers of yours?"
Dawn shrugs after putting the bottle away, grabbing her backpack and slinging it over her shoulder. She still hasn't met Burd's gaze. "Haven't really figured that part out yet..." she admits, lingering in place for a moment as she studies the photo wall.
Burd's gaze moves over her shoulder, settling onto a specific photo that fades into view. His eyes lock on it, staring right up until it disappears. Finally, he puts his back to Dawn and starts towards his seat once again with heavy footfalls. "So fucking angry. They're always so fucking angry..." he mutters to himself. As he reaches the chair, he pulls it away from his station and begins haphazardly reorganizing things that were knocked
about, biting down hard to keep himself from speaking. "Tomorrow night. Be here." he grunts, immediately regretting the words leaving his mouth. He keeps his back to her as he speaks. "You run around Adrasteia pulling that shit you just pulled with me and you're gonna get yourself, and others, killed. I'll get you your meeting with Cross. From there? It's on you. But whatever the fuck this is about? Keep that shit locked down, you
Dawn seems rather surprised, clearly not having expected the offer of assistance. She looks over her shoulder with a conflicted frown, seeming uncertain how to respond. Before the silence grows too long she speaks up: "Yeah. Okay." she says with a nod, chewing on her lips as she lingers a moment longer. "Thanks..." she adds, almost reluctantly, before starting to head for the door.
Burd remains silent, merely casting a glance over his shoulder her way once she reaches the door. Once gone, he slams a fist down at his station. "The fuck are you getting yourself into this time, you old fool..." he mutters to himself.