The first thing people had realized in their month back on Earth was that the days passed by much quicker than to what was their norm. It was such a small planet compared to Mars, and much closer to the earth, so it orbited the sun on a faster scale. The first month was a month of rebuilding, cleaning, and shaping their new lives. For many, it was their chance to start over. For others; a chance to have the freedom to do what they wanted.

The biggest surprise was how the population still seemed to expand. Although it was in miniscule amounts at first, there was a definite boon to New York 2.0’s population as distant aliens started settle on the surface without so much as an acceptance note or a nod. With everything getting into place, Immigration was the least of their problems. The main focus of the dusty city was the Climate Reorienting Machine. Already it patched up numerous holes in the ozone layer, flushing a fresh breeze through the city and across the planet.
At one month in, water started to splash out of specific locations, and small sprouts of green were returning to Central Park and the other small patches around the entirety of the City. The planet it self was have its rebirth, much like its new inhabitants.

Sentience was quite creative it seemed. Scientists were already investigating the planet and studying how its old ores and materials could be used to benefit new technology, historians were in awe at the ways of the old planet as they could now confirm that all those old textbooks could be real, and rumors were already spreading from the more adventurous types about the “forgotten races” outside the city borders. Grotesque, ugly, mutated things that somehow managed to survive eons, but not without paying a horrible price…

For others, the focus was on the new city. Living conditions were a mix between some temporary shelters provided by the Human Union, or some just took to the ruins and quickly started establishing themselves. Some apartments were already holding numerous people, and their efforts to rebuild were giving the buildings new life. Sometimes the buildings themselves resembled some of the cybernetically enhanced, for they too were being rebuilt with completely new and advanced resources. Others were moving quick to start the basics: a hospital in an old skyscraper, a police station right nearby. Some poor fools were already tallying sins at a new bar: the Debris in an old Broadway theatre.
One month in, the several thousand citizens knew one thing: this was a test. Humanity was waiting for this new planet to thrive or die, and then they would decide if it was worth populating with others.

While some cared a lot about this test, some didn’t at all. It was their life after all, so they could do what they liked.

It didn’t matter to Two-Four and Teddy. Both sides of the argument would still stumble into the Debris after a hard day’s work. And universal currency was still accepted after places stopped printing money.

For Two-Four, this seemed like the logical next step. With experience that aged him beyond his years; he was ready to throw in the towel and work on something a little more relaxing. With a final smack of a hammer through a fresh nail, his job board went up against the side of the bar, already with some postings and other things he’d heard about through some of the citizens. Like a need for more doctors, or some educational facility to be started, down to an organized hunting trip of a Forgotten that they swore they saw lurking around the borders of the island city. Some others were working on exploring the sewers underneath, or delving through some of the buildings that seemed darker than all the rest.

What Two-Four hadn’t expected was the extra help he received. His cyborg eyes labelled the girl as Eleanor Roosevelt, and he was pretty sure she wasn’t supposed to be on the shuttles from Mars, but it didn’t bother him.

She was at least entertaining.

"One day I'm gonna rule this town!” She hiccupped as the she fell face-first into the bar.

Two- Four just chuckled. She kind of marched in a few weeks ago, slammed a relic of a weapon against his bar and demanded that he hire her, or “face the consequences.” His shrug was enough of an answer, apparently.

“Get a better gun and maybe we can talk,” he yawned as he piped another beer into her large mug.

"Fuck you, my gun’s the best…”

"I have a particle cannon under my bar.” He retorted with a smirk, “You have a peashooter that’s rusting even though I swear that the machines cured rust forever when they became sentient.”

"did your gun end the civil war Two-Four?" Her voice rose as she took another sip. She was practically shouting when she put it down again.

"Check the data banks for that micro-byte of information you rust bucket!"

He saw several customers leaving with a look of concern. He didn’t care.

"Which civil war? The one that happened eons ago or one of the 462 civil wars of the Vaggat dark age? coz I fought through at least 200 of those, and I can promise you they didn't use crappy rifles…"

He scratched at the back of his head, “That was one hell of a week…”

The world was starting to spin again as many sectors of life co-existed on this planet. Unfortunately, Two-Four had a feeling that everything might go to shit very shortly. He could already feel the eyes on the planet, and the other eyes lurking in the crowds.

The truth was there were so many ways this whole set-up could go wrong, so the only thing any of them could do was be prepared.

The bar was dim but vibrantly detailed. The world was the same but that was of no consequence at the moment. In the bar that had been named Debris—accurately named for its dusty atmosphere—Aris was a gleaming entity on his lonesome sitting at the long counter. Dark fur skinned from the legendary Yonsilk of Jupiter hung from his shoulders and waist, any competent interstellar zoologist would assume he bought it from the Black Market. It was largely avoided, even by hunters.

Regardless, Aris acknowledged the small impatience that wiggled from his “Starborne” all of asudden. It had been making itself known lately. The excitement of endless possibilities egging it on. And that was exactly why Aris had chosen the less-than desirable establishment to dine at for the past two weeks. Information passed through there like the storms of Uranus, constant and undisturbed. A pattern that seemed near infinite.

He placed a golden hand onto the counter and tapped the wood twice with his sharp finger plates. It had become his calling card for drinks since his arrival and he knew the cyborg that managed the place knew it; it was always high-pitch and distinctive, like the shrill of an elegant bell.

Aris found the man out the pitch-black eyeholes of his helm, a smaller pair rested beneath the larger ones. “ You fought in the Dark Age?” he questioned with cold intrigue. “I fought in the war of Gargon v Celsi.” he continued casually, a witness to the initial skirmish that begun the altogether separate civil war.

Gargon of Himwa—had spat on the respect that Celsi—prince of the Jewels—had showed for his slain brother. It was an amusing spectacle that seemed forgotten in all the bloodshed. Till this day bad blood still lingers between the two clans of Pluto.

He purposely left the truth out that he had kill Gargon’s brother in order to obtain his ship, it was more incriminating than useful. “ It was nearly as bloody as the Dark Age. How did you survive such... atrocities?” Though he had witnessed far worse in his conquest of planets and gruesome work as a mercenary, Aris' greatest weapon was his cunning nature. It was hard-fought to keep his dominating tendencies intact but it would be worth it when he put his plans into action.

Debris' dim atmospheric lighting was somewhat ruined by one particular patron. Sera caused a quietly humming, blue radiance around where she sat from waste energy - kind of like her version of human bowel movements, only constant and way more appealing. She stared at the glass in front of her, she was trying to work out drinking, a difficult and lengthy process that had consumed her mind for the past few days. Work was slow and the Debris had become a favourite haunt of Sera's, sometimes Two-Four hired her on slow days, just to give the place some life.

Her attire didn't particularly suit her new surroundings, mind you no ones really did. A big grey city called for formal wear - suits and pretty dresses and the such. Definitely not the armours and rough and ready clothing that most people wore. Although it was a nice change of pace for a lot of people, even those from Mars. Those planets were cold. To be able to wear something suited to warmer weathers was a luxury that some of New York's newest denizens had yet to realise.

Sera slightly flickered as she heard mention of some old wars. Typical, a new episode for humanity had dawned - a new hope you might argue. And some still would still dwell on the past. One patron did catch her interest though, speaking of Gargon v Celsi. "Not many can boast to fight in that war. Most died in it, I remember the people of Pluto trying to clean up afterwards, not a pretty sight. Didn't fight in the war myself of course, two grown men fighting over their petty squabbles shouldn't cause one to begin with."

She reflected on the news of that war, Sera was travelling around at the time, as she had been for thousands of years. So much to see, in the universe. She almost felt sorry for those with short lifespans. But of course that naturally meant there were so many wars, at the time Gargon v Celsi was probably the dumbest. She recalled two moons being destroyed during the time, not that anyone in Sol could have helped, too far out for them.

It was near instant, a pull towards the static glow wrapped in clothing. He recognized it wasn’t his own intentions rather the will of the “Starborne” inside of him. He contemplated it for a moment but refused to face the unknown entity. From the way she dressed—among other things—It would appear the energy-being was female.

A kindred feeling perhaps? He sifted through the incomprehensible emotions and pulled the most dominant. No, an affinity.

Her words had suggested that she too had known the initial cause of the war. Aris had believed it was lost in the bloodshed, that only the long-lived and lucky would have known. He frowned behind his mask and sunk into a dastardly mood. He was not pleased though the reason why escaped him.

“Many did die. I just refused to be one of them. To die in that war would be the same as falling onto your own blade. Utterly useless and impractical. You say the war was over a squabble, I always heard it was because Celsi had killed Gargon’s brother. Was that not the truth?” he asked, turning his attention towards the glow.

Nov had entered the bar not too long ago and claimed a seat at the front counter, apparently unopposed in this sense as the other patrons made themselves at home in other sections of the establishment aptly called Debris for plenty of obvious reasons. The bar itself had literally been built into the backstage of someplace early humans called the Broadway Theater. An odd place for an establishment to be, well...Established. However no one was arguing this fact which in the end proved good all around for everyone, especially for someone like himself.

Normally, Nov would arrive occasionally much chipper and lively sometimes before and after shift but today, he had been contemplating crew re-assignments to different areas of the city and the bordering outer limits of the city yet to be absorbed by the quickly growing civilization. There was that and the new recruits joining into the force's ranks, mostly from off planet and very unfamiliar with the re-built city. The thought of being partnered up with a rookie or being assigned to other areas didn't bother him at all. What did though was all the meetings that came included with the mass re-organization of the force. Nov honestly would have rather been patrolling the streets than attend a long, almost drawn-out discussion. He felt they were not absolutely necessary and recalled some being more of a social gathering. Then again, he had a different outlook on things and only saw a few good reason for a written report if anything.

While sliding through the holographic rosters and assignment routes on his PDA, Nov couldn't help be listen on to the new conversation that had developed outside of his immediate attention and had nearly made him jumped once his cognitive sensors finally picked up the localized dialogue. He turned his head slightly and allowed his own neural HUD to highlight the chat's participants. There was Karson, the barkeep or Two-Four as he went by and two other figures; one clad in armor and decorative fur whilst the other glowing vibrantly of soft flowing energy. He didn't believe he recognized either of them. Nov mentally compiled a quick check over their identities through the city's inhabitant's database but in the end it wouldn't matter too much about who they were...Unless they were wanted or had a bounty on their head; he'd hate to be the catalyst of that ruckus waiting to happen, especially not here.

The topic quickly illustrated itself into the deconstruction of the Gargon v Celsi conflict, something Nov had figured to be way behind the date of his own birth or his nearly year long recovery after being, literally, blown up. At least two of the participants seemed to know the details quite well, though he was unsure if Two-Four was on the same page or not. Nov bet on his tip as unlikely. With several more hours before he was back on call, he placed the PDA flat on the counter and finally bothered to pick up the glass of scotch he ordered around that time he first sat down.

"Sounds like the most extreme if not overblown case of domestic violence I've ever heard of..." Nov openly commented from his position at the bar's counter, no longer retaining his neutrality in the discussion and now fully committed. His face remained partially fixated on the scotch-filled shot glass before him, seemingly intrigued of the residual alcohol sliding down within walls of the glass he gently twirled with his prosthetic fingers. "...Dare I ask what the dispute was initially about? Before...Err, Gar-whats-his-face's brother had been murdered?"

Sera's comment had drawn the attention of two patrons, the first was the one who originally piqued her interest, tall and covered from head to toe in a golden armour. Much like those used by the emperors of the more primitive worlds in their cult-like rituals. What kind of person is it, she wondered to herself, that would join a colonisation attempt for a new start - as was usually peoples motives for this kind of mission - but still hide their face? Did they fear someone would recognise them?

The second was a cyborg, although you could hardly tell the difference between him and a mech, there was so little human left behind. Probably some gruesome accident, Sera theorised, not many would do that to themselves through choice. Both were interested in the true start of the war, and although she didn't have a firsthand account she still had a fairly good idea.

"During the start of the war, I was travelling through Sol, looking to see what progress had been made since my last visit. You'd be surprised how far you humans have come in the last few thousand years. Outstanding technological progress for people with your lifespans," She made this comment casually as she began, humanity were an innovative bunch and they liked to be complimented on it, "News of the conflict reached my ears when I was on my way to see the Mars colonies. I didn't see the initial blood spills, but it was a reputable source. Now you see Gargon and Celsi didn't always see eye to eye, Celsi was a damn sight more family oriented. Most folks know the gist of the tale, it's just that facts get skewed. Celsi's brother was murdered yes, however not by Gargon. The conflict started because of the way that Celsi approached the situation, giving him the grandest funeral those colonies had ever seen. Gargon didn't agree with this respect for family, thinking it a huge waste. From what I heard he tried to interfere and that somehow, lead to war,".

Sera took a moment to pause, then finished her tale, "Of course, you'd be better trying to track down someone who was there, plenty of long lived beings in this galaxy, you just need to know where to look. By the time I arrived all I saw was hellfire raining down from the sky as those people tore each other apart,". She finished her tale by reminding those who listened that she wasn't there herself. Her word had a good chance to be correct, but it wasn't a certainty.

Aris was the first being Two-Four had laid eyes on that he’d been unable to identify, either through his own experiences or the Vagott eyes that occupied his sockets. Either way, he hadn’t caused too much trouble inside Debris so Two-Four had no reason to feel animosity towards the man,

And his usual wasn’t complicated. Just another glass of beer placed gently in front of him as these two ancient aliens spoke about wars that were long out of his league.

“Hehe. It’s such a relief to remember that Humans weren’t the only ones fighting wars. I guess everyone has something they think is worth fighting for. As for my survival, well, I’m just as surprised as you are.”

Poor Nov, on the other hand; he seemed out of his league. He’d been a regular for a while now. Many cops needed a pick-me-up with this state of the law enforcement at the moment. That state being unorganized and chaotic. Most of these new Earthlings were tough enough to take care of themselves. Still, law was a noble profession, and people long ago realized that banning alcohol was a fruitless endeavor.

Still, the three seemed to be taking care of themselves, and Teddy was off grabbing some things for some other customers when a shady man walked in and sat at the edge of the bar, waving Two-Four over. Carefully, he stepped away from his customers towards the man, and shared a hushed conversation around in the dark.

“It’ll be dangerous…” the man whispered, “but there’s people tough enough for it. You know most of the guys that come through here Two-Four. Is there anyone that would be interested?”

He gave a slight shrug, and grabbed a digital device from underneath his bar. Pressing a few keys, the information transferred from the little device and up to his larger holographic “JOB LISTING” board. "FORGOTTEN HUNT" occupied the board under its own heading. People came in to access or take a look at the board if only for another option. On a new planet, Credits could be hard to come by if you weren't in a government-approved position.

“I know some people, but you won’t know if they’re interested until they contact you.”

The man slipped out the side of the bar as quick as he came, leaving Two-Four to guide himself back over to the conversation as he started to polish one glass left behind.

There were some disgruntled sounds coming out from one corner of the bar. An alien – or machine – in dark robes and a shadowy mask was starting to raise his voice in a language few would understood. Them and their equally ambiguous companion were staring both at the Job board and at Two-Four himself with narrowing eyes.

The glowing entity's connection to the Starborne was nebulous at best. A mystery that Aris knew—even with his extensive knowledge and experience—would be hard to solve. Her recollection of the Gargon v Celsi wars only added on to his conclusion. He bit the soft of his lip beneath his helm before turning back towards the counter, his interest seemingly peaked. Adolescent but oddly wise, Aris’ voice was naturally condescending.

“Hmm, I shall trust your account. It’s very well likely that did occur.” His glass remained untouched, just as they always had when he ordered alcohol.

Before long Aris had finally noticed a machine-man nearby. He got the feeling the man or machine had been close for some time, however, he must have instinctively ignored him. A insect wrapped in metal, he thought to himself.

The Omino clad in gold eyed the job notice above. It may be advantageous to take on such a request. The title seems to imply that a hunt of sorts would be involved. It may be best for him to acquaint himself with the beasts that roamed the reborn world.

Ted slammed her mug on the table and brushed her rosy cheeks free from foam. She made her way behind the bar and motioned to Two-Four and the clock, her shift was about to start. She snuggly fit through the opening in the bar and took note of whose glasses were empty, beginning to fill up some replacements.

“If you’re looking for work, I don’t have much to give you other than a tab for the bar, but I do have a job.” Ted said sliding the mugs down the bar to their appropriate owners. Each glass landing perfectly to their owners. She glanced upwards at her gun giving it a warm smile before placing both palms down on the table. She thought about what Two-Four and the others were talking about, the war. She remembered it pretty well, she should’ve – she was raised in the middle of it.

“What a shit show.” Ted said quietly reminiscing about the war, the bar was illuminated by a form of energy – whose name was Sera sometimes they hired her to work as a sort of… Larger sentient lava lamp. It helped with the mood of the place. Debris was good for two things, both of those fell under the categories of lagers and liquor. Ted found Sera’s presence in the bar typically made it nicer, it was a nice hue of blue, not too blue but not quite a teal. “I don’t know what the hell you guys were fighting for.” Ted said with a hearty chuckle leaning back against the wall behind her. Ted related that war, the war that ravaged a large part of her memories to the wars they learned about in History class. When humans would squabble over smaller and smaller corners of the gem of a planet they were standing on now.

Ted tapped Two-Four on the metallic shoulder and got on the tips of her feet in order to reach his ears. “By the by, the thing I’m working on – getting some government funding, it’s going alright but we need to prove that this shit hole is going to last, ergo the job board and my little -- well, don't worry about my thing.” Ted said motioning towards the job listing. She had to tiptoe around government anything nowadays considering she wasn’t exactly the guest of honor on the whole tour-de-la-monde they were now enjoying. But – if she appeared as a honest and hardworking girl just working with her sentient computer on making people living on Earth a happy drunk, then just maybe they’d play nice.

In the streets of New York 2.0 a balding portly man was walking home after a long day at work at the colonial treasury office. He was unaware that 6 pairs of eyes were carefully watching him. Hundreds of years haven't changed one simple rule. Never walk in New York alone and at night. The man turned onto a poorly lit abandoned street and had crossed halfway until his stalkers attacked. Charging him down the street was a young Huxen female coming. The official, seeing his attacker, was about to scream as and run as fast as his legs would carry him, however the lone Huxen was just a distraction. Emerging from a side alleyway two more Huxen roughly grabbed the mans shoulders and brought him to the ground. The female leaped on the fallen man and clawed at his face and shoulders while the others held him pinned. Three more of the hyena men slinked out of the alley two of them bounding to join the mauling while the third (and only one to have passed any more than 20 earth years in this little attack) stayed back observing.

After a few moments the elder barked out harshly, "That's enough!" then louder when his order was ignored, "I said that's enough!". at this the attack stopped but they kept the man pinned to the sidewalk. Crocuta eyed his prey as he walked up to speak him. He was scratched and bleeding but to startled and surprised to cry out. And he was very afraid. Crocuta looked into his terrified eyes as he spoke to him. I think I know what your thinking right about now. What did i do to deserve this? Why is this happening to me?" the banker was breathing heavily and was too scared to speak so his attacker continued, "Some might say beacause he was careless, because he wasn't,fast or strong enough, or even the age old wrong place wrong time rationale." Crocuta then squatted down so that his face was level with his victims. "But the truth of things is you didn't do anything to deserve this, all you were doing was trying to get home. It's not your fault that you have to die." At this the man started to cry softly finally acknowledging what he knew was about to happen. Crocuta continued, "I know, and for what very little it's worth i'm sorry.If you need someone to blame in these final moments blame me. Work's slow, humans don't like or want us here, and credit is hard to come by and... I've been having trouble putting food on the table. Until you came along. I'm sorry little man, but my family is hungry." With this last statement he put one hand on his forehead. With the other he cut his throat with a bone handled knife.

At this his Crocuta's warriors began to eat, he didn't join them. His little speech ruined his appetite. He let them get their fill before calling them off "What's in his pockets?" Crocuta asked, "14, credits and some gum chief!" "Take six and leave the rest and give me a stick of that!" His warriors did as told but with looks of confusion on their faces. Seeing this Crocuta explained, When NYPD discovers this all they'll think is Forgotten attack, but if they find a obviously rich man with nothing in his pocket? Robbery. Leave the brief case too." With a sharp gesture the weaker, and incaple of combat emerged from the alley. An old male half-blind and lame in one leg, his niece who was still a child, and his mate Kasalia who was pregnant with their children.

Crocuta began barking orders, leaving two of his warriors to protect the others while they ate and then take the them back to the den. The physically strongest, Ruku, returned to his job of unloading crates at the starport. He took the remainder the youngest and the oldest warriors, with him. He didin't want this sort of honor less murder to happen again. So whith this two Huxen in tow he walked into Debris, looking for work.

"Tch..." Nov scoffed as he downed the last of his scotch through his visible human mouth and placed the empty glass on to the counter, "I swear there's a phrase for that kind of nonsense and a one-word summary is too easy use."

Picking up his PDA, he shifted through the dossiers again, catching up on the latest soon-to-be arriving personnel. He only had a minute to himself once more until a new job notice flashed on to the holographic Job Listings board. With still plenty of time to kill before his rounds would start, Nov fancied his curiosity to the board; he was a community serviceman after all. Though what he found though wasn't quite as friendly as he anticipated. The notice detailed a hunt of the Forgotten; living results of time-ingrained horrors almost too unimaginable to contemplate. Currently believed to hold no negotiable sentience and confirmed highly aggressive and hostile on numerous occasions, it was almost law to shoot one such creature on sight just as a safeguard for anyone nearby.

"Before I got re-assigned from Europa Station, I recall hearing - don't quote me - about the first humans who stepped back on Earth arriving armed, specifically to clear out the site for New York 2.0 of these things." Nov briefly paused to oversee those gardening as the notice too, apparently being rather sketchy and loud at the same time, "This was supposedly before the first wave of the actual colonists were shuttled down...And ambiguously before or after the CRM even deemed the planet remotely habitable."

Waiting to see if anyone would catch onto his conversation hook, Nov eyed the new arrival of three Huxen, naturally suspicious of anyone in not-so civilized attire with matching behavior to boot. Then again, the knight looking fellow would have fallen into this same suspicion if it were not for his almost elder-like demeanor. Luckily for him though, it was hard for anyone to guess what Nov was looking at as his thick visor hid his true eyes away and easily tracked anything around 180 degrees in front of him and thus allowed the cyborg to keep his physical focus causally in one place.

Aris turned his head towards the new arrival with a vague, unseen interest. A second species it would seem. One different from the humans and the cyborgs he had encountered before, a being severely different from the surreal entity that glowed beside him.

The gleaming gold of his armor reflected the dim light of the bar, vividly enhancing it and for a moment, allowing the others to see the world through his own blackened eyes. Through a vivid reinterpretation of colors.

“Animals? They are sentient if they are. They remind me of the Hyenas on Mars--the endangered few that survived Earth's previous life. Descendants perhaps?” His voice was rather loud as he scooted from his stool and approached with a steady, casual saunter. The three were muscled beasts, all standing on their hind legs and covered in tribal, scrap metal dress. Were they natives? Either way they interested him greatly.

Aris stopped in front of the three of them without a word as he looked them over. They were a head or so taller than him and if not for his “Starborne” would have been several times deadlier. His golden armor clattered as he folded his arms over his chest, ignored the following two, and instinctively stared up at the leader.

@Cuddle Pot

Two-Four gave a quick nod to Teddy as she whispered in his ear, but his eyes were laser-focused on the crowd of Huxen that were stumbling into the bar. He said nothing at first, but signals flashed across his eyes reminding him of the Galactic Union’s decision on the aggressive hoard of beasts. There were only five of them at the moment, all furry and all reeked more than back room of the Debris that Two-Four refused to clean or enter on the basis of it being blocked off from the rest of humanity hopefully forever.
As she turned to leave Two-Four grabbed Teddy by the shoulder and tilted his head towards the incoming aliens.

“Well, if we’re looking for proof, they may not be a bad place to start. ” He grumbled quietly as he pushed past his eager assistant and returned to the bar, giving Nov a great smile as Two-Four continued polishing a glass. His eyes HUD traced red “DANGER” boxes around the beasts, but he ignored the display instead to respond to the fellow cyborg.
“Yeah, you’re right about that. Some bounty hunters lookin’ for some easy coin and a couple other brave adventurers came here to clear out some stuff before colonists came in. I had a buddy in the mix. Actually, they were the one who piqued my interest in coming back.”

Two-Four placed a glass back against his display before he started adjusting some of the shiny bottles that he kept under neon light. Supposedly bars were all like this once-upon-a-time. He thought it looked alright.
The bar was his masterpiece; he could do with it what he pleased.

He turned back to the bar. One heavy metal hand tapped the heavy gun hidden behind the bar as the other leaned against its surface.

“That bein’ said,” Two-Four grinned, “My friend said that some of them stayed out there. There’s many secrets this planet has to offer. It did have to go through five, six apocalypses or something? Actually, I’d love to know if there’s any remnants from when the machines ruled the planet with an iron fist.”

He broke the tension with a guffaw, laughing at his own joke for a second before his face went cold once again.

One of his eyes flashed a warning light, and his attention turned back to Aris at the edge of the bar. That guy too seemed to detect something strange about the group of aliens that were close to Debris. It didn’t really matter what happened if they were on the hit-list. Two- Four figured he could spin it into a good light for his bar either way.

He couldn’t rely on booze from old friends forever. If this was the way to get a more effective store of alcohol running, so be it.

There was something else that needed to be said.

“Hey, Aris. If you plan on doing something extreme, please keep it out of my bar.”

Crocuta was studying this strange alien trying to determine if his words and actions were a challenge. He sniffed the air catching its scent. It was something he had never countered before the musk reminded him of a cold empty room. As he studied the scene he noticed that he and his kin were all getting not so friendly stares. This was something every Huxen who had ever traveled would always experience. The important thing, especially around the youth of his clan was to not appear afraid.

"Vivian, check the job board find something for you and your brother! Rhanu trade with the owner!" The female Huxen eagerly went over excited for work, Crocuta eyed his younger accomplice with an angry stare. "No drinking, this is our families money!" he ended with a sharp bark. He then turned to talk to this strange entity before him.

"Not animals Huxen! Though ask anyone in this bar and the'll probably tell you there's no difference!" He stared around the room looking at the patrons as if daring them to speak. "In a way the Huxen come from this earth, in another we come from our world of Scarlo. When humans abandoned Earth they took a few animals with them not many but enough. One of the first aliens to contact humans traded them technology for a predator from each continent of earth. They took genetic samples from them, visited tribal species around the galaxy and mixed the sample into them during crucial periods of evolution creating their own species! The Huxen were the most successful." At this Crocuta and his tribe let out a victorious howl, and the grizzled pack leader smiled, yet this vanished as he continued his history lesson.

"Then humans found Scarlo, and its rich mineral pockets and fuel reserves. They wanted to trade. We didn't, They wanted to conquer. We wouldn't let them. They declared war. They don't like the way we fight war. They won, now were scavengers, criminals, and pirates, but still Huxen not animals!". Anger and rage had crept into his voice now. Yet simmered down as he continued, "My people's genes come from earth, the Huxen are just as much a bastard child of it as Any human." His smile returned, Were just a little prettier is all!"

"So Space man, are we animal? OR Huxen?" He said grasping the handles of his knives, just in case he had to prove just how animal he really was.

“Animal,” he answered stately, his arms unfolding and falling to his side. “Regardless of how you look at it, your origins have not changed. However, you’ve done well to make it this far. You and your family.”

He glanced towards Debris’ owner with agitation—though his helm hid the emotion wholly. He disliked have a infant even remotely give him a command, regardless of ownership or authority. The Aris the Oculus mustn't be as renowned as he once believed. “That is unnecessary,” He chuckled lightly to ease the man’s worries. “Let us speak, Huxen, I have … a proposition for you and your kind.”

Aris strode away from the counter and toward a table far from prying ears. He waited near the dimly lit area, refusing to take a seat before the Huxen had responded to his offer. Five seconds would be all the time the Huxen would receive before Aris had chosen his answer for him.

"Hey assholes." Ted said motioning towards Two-Four with a large grin. "Unless you like your asses well done, get take it out of our fucking bar." She looked over at Two-Four and made an expecting noise, somewhere between a grunt and an excited chirp. He didn't seem to be phased by it, somewhat perturbed maybe but her actions and words were not completely unexpected. They were coworkers after-all.

She glanced over at both the Huxen and the other... Thing. And motioned towards the door. "I don't care what you do as long as it's outside. Please."

@Write
Crocuta growled as he removed his hands from his knives. "Calm yourself human! If we were gonna fight it would have happened by now.". This strange alien made him uncomfortable, and angry to say the least. Yet he came here looking for work so he wasn't going to just pass it up.

@RedXCross
Rhanu approached Two-Four with a large bag slung over his shoulder. Barman, need new bottles? Scavenged from the city, one credit each! My family will even clean them for two.", the young Huxen then slyly put 6 credits on the counter, "and a bottle of cheap wine, no need to tell the chief."

@Renny
Crocuta followed the strange alien to his corner table and sat down. "So space man, what did you have in mind?"

Nov listened to Two-Four's knowledge of the early stages for Earth to be re-colonized. Most of the details the bartender laid down matched up to what Nov had personally known about and then some. Apparently the spiel of the planet encountering several cataclysmic events was something he himself wasn't too knowledgeable about, especially the part about machines owning the world at one point. However Two-Four's laughter on the notion gave way to Nov's doubts on that particular event's legitimacy - or maybe that was just the "iron fist" play that was amusing.

"First time I'm hearing about it - they must not have ruled the planet for very long." Nov replied, his ambiguous focus still set on the Huxen arrivals.

A miniature debate had apparently erupted between what appeared to be the Huxen ringleader and the armored alien from before. Though the knight-ish being seemed to speak in open-minded observations of the feral and Hyena-looking creature where as the Huxen boasted upon his species origins with knives in grasp in declarative defense from the word "animal" that the knight - really need to get that guy's name - had used to describe them. The Huxen's argument didn't seem to sway the alien's opinion nor was it appreciated by Two-Four or Ted whom Nov had guessed had their hands on a gun of some sort the moment the Hyena-thing armed himself.

Thankfully, the Huxen knew his place and backed down before taking up the armored alien's offer into a more private conversation elsewhere. In the end, it was a win-win for Nov however; a fight didn't break out and he didn't have to arrest anyone while off shift. It felt great when things worked themselves out to one's benefit.

The notice board had quickly turned around the conversation that filled Debris, from an old war to the new one they all faced - against those who somehow survived living on this god forsaken rock for all these years.

The hunt stirred a commotion, but nothing like the one stirred by those who had recently entered the bar. Huxens - Beast-like people fitting the title of Animals that had been given to them. Although most in the bar were technically a breed of animals, the Huxens were the most animalistic in their behaviour - despite their attempts to shed the title.

Sera couldn't blame them, they were harshly judged due to their scavenger lifestyle - living on everyone else's leftovers. Whether they had adapted to New Earth and abandoned those ways wasn't her job to know. Although perhaps she could make it her job to know, did New York 2 have any information brokers?

She knocked on the counter to draw the barkeeps attention, a low resonant humming sounded out,[color=00a651]"Say Two-Four, you know if the city has any information brokers? I hear that people pay a lot of money for information on the rest of the Galaxy. Not to mention it may give me a consistent income, if the markets open,"[/color=00a651]

As she tossed the idea around she liked it more and more, while brokering wasn't illegal it was somewhat frowned upon in higher society, none of that here though. It also left herself room enough to keep trying with the whole musician thing without living on the bare minimum.

"Its fairly simple to be honest. I would like to propose a... partnership of sorts. This planet Earth is new... rebirthed. Your kind, however, has been here since the beginning; witnessed its changes... its progress. I expect that your animal instincts has sensed my power. I offer you protection and anything else I can provide in exchange for information and help should I call upon it."

Aris slid into his chair with a tense but fluid motion then, the muscles in his body naturally coiled. The "Starborne" inside of him sent a rather tentative caution up his spine but nothing that he hadn't received from other carnivorous species. His furred cloak scraped the wood. A hint at just how tough the coat of the Jupiter beast he had slain really was.

Before the Huxen could speak, Aris continued. "I know its a bit much but do think on it. In the end, every animal falls to the stars. Only a few chosen will rest eternally in its dark arms."

@Cuddle Pot