Log – Contrary’s Homecoming (2/5)

** Start Contrary Description **

At six foot eight, Contrary is a big girl with her healthy build mixing a strong musculature and rounded, feminine figure. Her fur is a solid shade of slate gray, short and orderly. Her vulpine features are an exotic addition to an otherwise humanoid body, eyes strange in that the orbs themselves appear to be silver with grey irises that match her hide. Her hair is silvered in hue, long enough to drape her shoulders, yet at the moment it has been pulled back into a bland ponytail.

She wears a solid black shirt over her full chest that leaves her shoulders bare, held up by slim shoulder straps instead. It descends to a point just above her bellybutton, the lower inch and a half of the shirt is trimmed with a ring of shiny silver material. The sleeves descend to her elbows, where the dark fabric ends, only extending loosely a few more inches under her forearms.

A baggy pair of dark blue cargo pants are worn, riding precariously loose on her hips. The legs are dotted with pockets that close with silvered snaps. What holds gravity at bay is a belt composed of chain links. Four links wide it’s made up of silver, golden, brass and bronze colored links in random patterns. Clipped to her right hip is a PDD player, its headphones hooked between her and the player. On her left hip is a six inch long canvas sheath with the tip of a snuggly secured balisong knife peeking out. Half hidden by the just-to-long legs of her jeans are a pair of dark gray sneakers, black laces tied up in double knots.

Her accessories are varied, her triangular ears pierced, the left’s tip holding two rings, one with a small bell and the other with a silvered ankh dangling. The right has three studs of alternating silver and dull gold along each side. Another slight ring pierces her bellybutton, a tiny, quarter inch YinYang charm hung from it. Her wrists are bound by black leather bands that are lined with a double row of silvered studs, her hands bearing a pair of black leather palm gloves. A slim black choker is wrapped about her neck, a small ivory skull mounted at its center, above her throat.

** End Contrary Description **

** Start Scene **

This late in the evening there are a few people out and about, and of course the guards. Though the city gate isn’t nearly as bustling as it is in the afternoon. There are various vehicles parked around the area, one in particular is a large free quebec reloader. Sounds of hammering and grinding can be heard as sparks fly out from underneath the reloader. Two black, armored boots stick out from underneath the reloader.

The evening is young at 8 PM as late arrivers filter in slowly, while gate guards check for citizenship cards and those without them are searched before being allowed in. At one checkpoint in particular, Contrary has just finished getting checked in, the guard handing her bag of personals and a few bits of paperwork for later. “Thanks for the info.”, she says in parting as she hefts the strap of her bag to her shoulder and turns to enter the city proper. She strikes out with a brisk pace at first, but slows as she gradually looks around, taking in the first layer of buildings in the relatively big city with a mild look of determination.

The grinding and sparks continue to fly for a few more seconds before the grinder dies down and an armored figure comes sliding out on a wheeled board. The man stands up, completely clad in new tech’s finest, and because to put away the grinder and board in a large cargo bay door in the back of the reloader. Along with the equipment being loaded in is a strange vehicle, a turbo-wingboard for those that would know. It seems to be secured with rope that is connected to a small crane, though it seems mostly to prevent jarring during travel than to help with loading/unloading.

Contrary eventually comes to a stop, having found a place a bit to the side where she can take a few moments to let the myriad of sensations filter in without interruption. Movement all around, people walking and a few vehicles rolling down the streets. Sounds and smells. Late night cafes remain open to catch a few credits from hungry travelers. And the smells are tempting. Contrary is too distracted, however. Seeming a bit uncertain, she has looked toward the sound of grinding and the sparks that stand out in relative dimness, yet there is so much more, she doesn’t get a good look. When a late arriving caravan decides to roll through where she stands, however, she elects to move to the side rather than argue, closer to the loader and it’s armored owner.

The armored figure reaches over and begins to undo the ropes tying down the wingboard. The man moves fastly with an obvious practice of untying and retying the wingboard. He places a hand on the freed machine and it lifts off of the cargo bay floor. He pulls it outside of the reloader while it floats. He releases it and it gently floats to the ground. The man watches for a moment as the large gull wings rotate downwards, showing the true wingspan of the craft. The man looks in the cargo bay for a moment before turning around to look at the wingboard. As he does so he catches a glimpse of the strange humanoid. A moment’s pause comes simply out of suprise before he nods to her lightly. “Hello” he says politely, before kneeling down to examine one of the wings.

** Start Roan Description **

The man under your gaze is quite tall, a little over 6 feet in height. He seems to be in his late teens or early twenties. Raven black hair falls fluidly over this man’s muscled shoulders, its soft texture smoothing out his hardened features. His face is tanned and worn by weather, speaking of the harder times he faced. He is quite handsome, his sharp features molded from the chaos that bred this man. He walks with a steady grace and agility, almost unnatural for someone his size. This man has changed significantly from his first arrival in Kingsdale. His eyes no longer hold the aspiring wonder they once contained. The driven edge of ambition consumes his eyes, sizing up the world as it stands. In the company of friends this edge is dulled and the boyhood wonderment emerges once again, behind the veil of his ambition.

Black armor conforms around this figure’s every curve. The face of the figure is hidden behind the black, reflective, face plate that is locked into the helmet of the armor. A multi-optic band wraps itself around the forehead of the helmet, obviously in easy reach of being pulled down. A strong, wide belt is secured around the waist of this figure. A Wilk’s Backup is holstered on the right hand side of the belt with a e-clip container secured behind it. On the other side of the belt is a secured MP-10 with several clips of ammunition behind it as well. Around the back of the belt are sheathed three very strange knives. Their hilts are organic looking, almost as if they had been carved out of something living. Two smaller 12 inch knives rest on each side of a larger 16 inch knife that are all sheathed on the backside of the belt for some reason. A vibro-sword hilt that has been strangely modified is holstered towards the center of the belt. Another hilt, shaped like a Katana, is strapped to the figure’s left arm as some kind of forearm weapon. Overal this figure seems to be bristling with weapons, but why?

** End Roan Description **