WHO: Yondu and Misc WHERE: Around Rhakotis WHAT: He's starting plans to save his friend. WARNINGS: Nothing notable yet.
how we got here - ota
Yondu had gotten weak, but he also found a balance. It was so easy to slip into his old ways. If he walked into the wrong crowd, the first harsh hands on him would result in a broken finger. If someone raised their voice to him, they'd receive gibberish and a threat of an arrow. This didn't always turn out great for him, either. He had taken to earning pretty good money, wanting to save up so he could get a new ship. But a good half of that money was going towards getting patched up every paycheck. Sometimes he'd pick the wrong fights, and it's lucky that he's still alive at this point.
On the other hand, the train had taught him patience that was surprisingly easy to swing back to as well. He knew that cold, brutal, punishing part of him was true to his real self. But so was the part that could help a kid that's wandered far from their magic avenue find their mom. Or always smile in his accidentally unfriendly way when his favorite waitress greeted him. He now found himself able to talk his way out or walk away from a fight on occasion. Growth, right? But he hadn't warmed up enough to go back to making friends again.
Today is a bad day. He's in a rougher part of the city, not exactly slummy but it was founded by a warrior culture and attracts that sort. Has the best damn food as far as he's concerned, mostly meat. One good argument has earned someone else a hole through their hand and a broken arm and it's earned Yondu a black eye and a mild sprain, with a few good solid body bruises between them. But they weren't out to kill, just to prove some kind of point. Even if Yondu's not sure what that point was. But now the frozen meat he was buying to stock in his fridge is being held to his face (at least there's wrapping around it) to ease the swelling as he shambles down the sidewalk back towards his home. He's going to have to get patched up again. At least he's used to it, but his wallet is hurting more than his leg.
God he misses the train's pricing. Quantity over rarity was a gift.
evidence of a good man - closed to MOTOKO KUSANAGI
Whenever he does a mission for the Library, he's quick to report in with whatever findings he acquired or file a pretty thorough report. He's hoping that it's given him a good name with them. Enough to trust his judgment on making a proposal, which he's not done before.
Doing what he's paid to do is nothing new. Following someone doing the 'right thing' is something that he's easily fallen into. He's a leader type that, when he comes to think of it, isn't much of a leader. He's a facilitator and organizer and pretty good at it. But he's taking the initiative on this one. He's got all the info he could dig up in the depths of the Library from a place called Kamakan, #93426194992 according to the Void Ministry, a dwindling technologically tainted world that V had helped the train's crew save. He'd worked out a ton on the virus, kept company to all those kids off in cyberspace, picked apart shit only he could see in an artificial world.
Kusanagi seemed the right one to go to on this one. If he could convince her that V could change and save a world, possibly even his own with the right push, he could do one goddamn one bit of good in the whole of his life. Someone who wasn't Peter. And it'd be his choice.
putting together a team - closed to cr or preplanned
Yondu uses whatever contact he can. A private message, word of mouth, showing up at someone's work and leaving a note. If anything he'll invite them to his favorite seedy restaurant. In that same riotous warrior district, one where everyone's loud and it's easy to be ignored in if you wanna be. With little posses of people at their own tables laughing, clinking beers, ranging from scarred Amazonian women or alien Vikings analogs to quiet darkly dressed mystery souls off at their lone smaller tables with something warm. People minding their own business unless they're angling to make trouble for themselves, and out of force of habit and comfort Yondu wants to recruit his help with that kind of background noise.
He'll wait there with his own beer and occupy his mouth in the meantime by tearing into a rack of ribs that come from... he doesn't know, something unfamiliar. Beside him there's something on the table that looks like a giant bug, eating from a bowl of oddly covered berries and somehow timing its bites exactly with Yondu's.
no subject
WHERE: Around Rhakotis
WHAT: He's starting plans to save his friend.
WARNINGS: Nothing notable yet.
On the other hand, the train had taught him patience that was surprisingly easy to swing back to as well. He knew that cold, brutal, punishing part of him was true to his real self. But so was the part that could help a kid that's wandered far from their magic avenue find their mom. Or always smile in his accidentally unfriendly way when his favorite waitress greeted him. He now found himself able to talk his way out or walk away from a fight on occasion. Growth, right? But he hadn't warmed up enough to go back to making friends again.
Today is a bad day. He's in a rougher part of the city, not exactly slummy but it was founded by a warrior culture and attracts that sort. Has the best damn food as far as he's concerned, mostly meat. One good argument has earned someone else a hole through their hand and a broken arm and it's earned Yondu a black eye and a mild sprain, with a few good solid body bruises between them. But they weren't out to kill, just to prove some kind of point. Even if Yondu's not sure what that point was. But now the frozen meat he was buying to stock in his fridge is being held to his face (at least there's wrapping around it) to ease the swelling as he shambles down the sidewalk back towards his home. He's going to have to get patched up again. At least he's used to it, but his wallet is hurting more than his leg.
God he misses the train's pricing. Quantity over rarity was a gift.
Doing what he's paid to do is nothing new. Following someone doing the 'right thing' is something that he's easily fallen into. He's a leader type that, when he comes to think of it, isn't much of a leader. He's a facilitator and organizer and pretty good at it. But he's taking the initiative on this one. He's got all the info he could dig up in the depths of the Library from a place called Kamakan, #93426194992 according to the Void Ministry, a dwindling technologically tainted world that V had helped the train's crew save. He'd worked out a ton on the virus, kept company to all those kids off in cyberspace, picked apart shit only he could see in an artificial world.
Kusanagi seemed the right one to go to on this one. If he could convince her that V could change and save a world, possibly even his own with the right push, he could do one goddamn one bit of good in the whole of his life. Someone who wasn't Peter. And it'd be his choice.
He'll wait there with his own beer and occupy his mouth in the meantime by tearing into a rack of ribs that come from... he doesn't know, something unfamiliar. Beside him there's something on the table that looks like a giant bug, eating from a bowl of oddly covered berries and somehow timing its bites exactly with Yondu's.