Alfhedil

Star Wars: The Harbor's Due

@Paingodsson Natasha is cleared.

Star Wars: The Harbor's Due

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A thousand colors bloomed before her, racing along paths that dipped in and out of the ether in strange and twisting patterns. Blues and yellows skipped away from every footstep, splashing along the walls just to return when next barefeet touched upon deck plate. Purple danced along with her fingers above her head, the slow motions almost lazy as she danced with them, swaying and bobbing along to a tune only she could hear. To everyone else the ship was simply a box of durasteel and cable, but to her it was so much more. For Sena, it was a wonderous world full of color and sound that was there just for her. The cabling just below her feet sung with the data it carried, a potential of video from across the galaxy that could be anything from the face and voice of a friend to one of the holonet programs that always delighted her so. Joy was everywhere if one was but to seek it out, and of course she rarely had to try.

This was her home, a galleon of the stars that carried her and her makeshift family to many places of wonder. Verra always insisted that she stay inside, remain within her room, but how could she when there was exploration to be done? Her heart yearned to see what could be seen, to feel the winds of strange worlds on her face and listen in to the people of them. This one in particular called to her, whispering from far below of cold secrets and mystical treasures hiding beneath layers of ice. All one had to do was gently peel them back and it would all be there for them. At least, that's what she believed and had made up in her mind, imagination running rampant from the few stories sister had told her of the planet. Anchorage sounded to her like a wonderful place, even if it was supposed to be anything but. Thousands of aliens and humans alike, all gathered in one city that belonged to no one… It was like the stories of the old independent worlds before the Republic.

She could see like no other except her sister and their friend, a thin veil of blue silk hiding eyeless sockets that still peered through anything and everything. To her left as she turned her head, she saw their chef Mr. Grel already preparing the evening meal. Everyone called him Five-Toes because he was missing one, but she thought it was a little mean even if he insisted otherwise. The smell of the food called to her, and though she was tempted to come say hello to see about getting just a little nibble early, she also knew that he didn't like that much. That, and the familiar shape of a gizka was lurking nearby. Admiral Piff was once again trying to sneak into the kitchens, a sharp warning between pursed lips to get its attention was just enough to let it know she was watching. It scrabbled along down the hallway further, ducking down into one of the smaller maintenance hatches presumably to nibble on some cabling, but she knew that Piff was a good gizka and didn't do those kinds of things.

The adventure continued, a swish of color from both her sundress and the long single-braid of hair over her shoulder as she peered around a corner to see what might be awaiting. Since everyone was out and about, it was just her for now, and that meant that the conference room was hers to tap into the holonet. Verra didn't like it, said she needed to be careful, but she had also made it so very easy for her to understand and get what she wanted. A large remote sat on the table, her name on it in big stickers indicating it was hers and for the screens. Just the press of a button did what she wanted, recorded shows coming up right where she had left them.

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At one side the rodian cowered as if under imminent threat of death, and on the other Clu prattled on and on about the same moron that seemed to have impressed half the bar. Regardless of how she had put on, she did recognize the guy as a threat to the crew should their paths cross, however there was just one minor detail that seemed to be lost in the midst of all the rest. Yes, she knew his reputation quite well. Who in their right mind immersed themselves in the environment of pirates and mercenaries such as Anchorage without at least knowing the major players? Solace had Clu to thank for a few of the more obscure ones, but this guy… He stuck out like a lit lightsaber in a stormtrooper barrack. A good deal of the information on him was likely pure hyperbole, but it painted a picture clear enough that when it came down to it you just had to ask yourself one thing. Do you really want to risk it?

So far, she had done well enough for herself, her sister and this crew by answering a pretty firm "Fuck that" to said question. It was all the same for Viron Jek. If there was one thing she was good at, it was puffing out her chest to look tough and talk shit anyways, and it seemed that Clu might have forgotten that for a moment. Speaking of puffing out her chest, her cybernetics caught something of interest passing by, snapping a few pictures into digital memory as a remarkable looking Twi'lek blew a kiss and a wink her way as she left the bar. Red was most definitely not a common color on them, and she was almost tempted to force-sight to see just how far that red went, but she restrained herself and returned her attention to the topic at hand.

"Look Clu, I get it." She held a hand up to stop him, the glint of her armourweave catching the neon strobe of the cantina for just a moment.

"If we run into the edgelord, we'll play it nice and easy. However, we're still not exactly up there on the ranks and that's personally where I like to be. Yeah, climbing up the ladder and gaining notoriety is cool and all, means bigger paychecks and more legitimate contracts, but I would rather not deal with assholes like that."

It was a rather firm position she held, and had always stuck by. The Gray Mariners had a bit of a reputation already, partially from the fabricated background of her alter-ego, but also from their previous actions. It was a bit of a balancing act that she wanted to keep in the delicate state that it was, not too willing to jump into that extra bit of risk. Most, if not all, of the crew was wanted by the Empire. Herself and Kabal perhaps more than the rest, as the bounty had long since changed to proof of death rather than any attempt at bringing them in alive. For her it was that whole mess with the moff nearly ten years ago, a real pain in the ass that the imps seemed to be capable of holding a grudge like none other. The little gremlin though, oh that was a mess. It was one of the few times they had to trade shots with other ships, and very nearly made her regret letting him on. The little bastard had a skill though, and unlike most who are simply skilled at what they do, he enjoyed what he did.

Not too far away at the table with her was Kabal, adding in his own two credits to the conversation. Big was a bit of an understatement, but she wondered to herself if he was already thinking on how to take down Jek. It was hard to tell, the Ubese had been a mystery for almost as long as the republic knew them, and strangely her force-sight had never quite been able to perceive what he was beneath that suit.

"Yeah, he's a bit big, but not our problem. He's a reaver, and reavers gotta reave. That puts him in direct opposition to the Empire, and if we just sit back and let him do his thing, he'll get what's coming to him eventually. Besides, the dude just ups and disappears from time to time."

About to continue, she felt the soft buzz of the communicator in her ear alerting of incoming messages. Sable had seemed to have found himself a bit of entertainment in the cargo hold, yet another stowaway. Looks like they would need to reset the incident calendar in the conference room. It was one of those things that they just had to accept when traveling in such a large ship, inevitably there would be people sneaking on board to try and cheap out some transit to another planet off the shithole they had been stuck on. She didn't blame them, Miraluka had a natural wanderlust that inspired her to travel and left a strange unsettling feeling when she sat for too long. Or maybe that was the deathsticks again? Either way, she knew eventually she would have to intervene, so tapped the communicator to transmit so she could give her instructions.

"Copy Sable, do the usual. Subdue and keep her restrained until we get back to the ship. If she cooperates and willingly surrenders herself, then we can negotiate some kind of travel arrangement. If not I'll put a blaster bolt in her myself when I get back."

---

Listening in, Sena couldn't help but see a misunderstanding waiting to happen. She could already see the auras converging on the cargo hold just down the hallway, and heard the passing steps of four of the other crew. Sir Elbas was down there at the moment, peering through the walls she saw his outline standing in direct opposition to another. That one was interesting, and almost immediately it was clear that she was the stowaway. Aside from the shape of the person, there was a strangeness to her aura, tainted in a way like her sister's but not quite. Things were getting tense now, Sharp had joined in with weapon drawn. At least as she watched Buure was trying to de-escalate, but it wouldn't take much.

She got up from her seat, smoothing down the front of the flowing dress she wore, the pleated skirt swishing with every motion as she took one more look out into the hall. Good, no one else seemed on the way, though she was sure that Airus would be coming as well. Today, she was going to do the thing! It was always left up to Verra or Airus to take care of things like this, but she knew she could as well. Yes, a firm nod and confidence was all she needed to set off into the hallway.

++Sena, no. Go back and watch your shows.++

And of course her sister had felt her resolve to help out, speaking to her over their bond and trying to convince her to return to her room or at least the conference room. She pursed her lips and huffed, a little disappointed for the moment and about to do just that when she decided to be just a little more firm on it. Most of her time was spent in her room or on the ship in general, it always being too dangerous to go out on her own, and even when it wasn't she had to stay close to sister or Airus. No, this time she was determined! Mop-deka padded on by as she clenched her fists and nodded, seeming to think that perhaps it was directed at him and pausing to stare up at her. He always seemed so sad, so she did what she always did. First check his spray bottles to make sure he had all the water he needed, then a quick check of the small pouch at her hip. A sticker. That always made mop-deka look happier, and this time was no different. A small rainbow decorated the insectoid head of the former battle-droid, a series of beeps sounding his acceptance as he continued his routine.

++I'm going to help~++
++We've got it covered, honestly Sena.++
++I want to help, I can talk to people too!++
++She could be dangerous though, you don't know who this is. Just let Sable and Airus deal with her and we'll talk when I get back, okay?++
++Hmmm… I'm just going to say hello~++

Further protest was pretty much ignored as she skipped along the hallway, barefeet just barely kissing the durasteel as she made her way down towards the cargo hold. It wasn't far, and already she could see the standoff without any effort peering through walls or doors. The lights were off though, and that was weird. No one could see anything without the lights, so without even thinking about it she hit the light switch at the door to turn them on to full. There! Now everyone could see, and no one would accidentally trip on anything. She didn't need the lights of course, and could see everyone just fine, but still. In front of her were the people from the crew that had come to look, and there was the other woman.

Now, she was no expert in such things, but seeing the guns pointed at her and the way she had been cornered it seemed to Sena like she might have been hiding and afraid. Certainly there were hints of it in her aura, whether it was fear of being shot now or just the normal fear of discovery was beyond her, but she was determined to do her best to solving the problem before her. Without even waiting for the others to react to her presence, that of the near-identical image of their captain except with long multi-colored hair and a brilliant smile, she took a step forward and introduced herself.

"Hello! I'm Sena, what's your name?"

Star Wars: The Harbor's Due

@Moro Before I forget to put it here in the OOC, yes the character is cleared lol

Star Wars: The Harbor's Due

@conman2163 Go ahead and send him over to the characters tab. You're good to go.

Star Wars: The Harbor's Due

It's all good, I'm still sick with the plague or whatever lol.

Star Wars: The Harbor's Due

It is an era of strife and tyranny within the galaxy. For sixteen years a new order has slowly been imposing itself over the crumbling remains of democracy. The Empire as it is called, headed by the former Supreme Chancellor employs an iron fist and ruthless propaganda in order to keep control over an increasingly dissatisfied populace. While mere ripples for now, as fewer and fewer senators remain in opposition the shadows stir with rumors of credible dissent. Nowhere is this more prevalent than the Outer Rim. For millennia the region had operated as barely an extension of the Old Republic, belonging to it in name only for many sectors and others less so. Here among the darkened star lanes, at the very edges of the galaxy has many a rebellion been born, and it is here where empires have died.

Within the shadows of Imperial rule people gather to whisper of such things. Some are the expected, troublemakers even under the Republic's more lax view of order in the Outer Rim. Bounty hunters, assassins, smugglers and more besides. They have had the run of the edges of the galaxy for millenia, and while credits still grease the palms of officials everywhere, it is harder to do business when the Empire feels it necessary to exert their will through fleets of starships on patrol. Common scum, criminals and various gangs see this as not just breaking with the tradition of looking the other way, but a threat to their existence. It is not just the scum and villainy though, as citizens of all professions and station feel the boot of the Empire against the backs of their necks. In the dark spaces where once only the more criminal element gathered, now dissent festers and grows.

It is in one of those dark spaces in particular where a gathering of all kinds has come together. For on a planet broken away from its stellar moorings, a great festival is being held. Killers of both the legal and otherwise come to share their stories of the last year, shoulder to shoulder with spice-dealers and smugglers. Traders of every ware chart the dangerous and shifting hyperlanes to the Dark Harbor to buy and sell at Anchorage. A thousand starships from the smallest snub-fighters to relics of bygone eras at high-anchor disgorge their crews to the myriad cantinas to celebrate and prepare for the great game. For it is here that they will find glory, credits and for some a way to escape their troubles, so long as they pay...

The Harbor's Due

Star Wars: The Harbor's Due

Unidentified Planet, Unknown Regions - 57ABY

"Sterling, Ackermann! You're up on grid K-16!"

The announcement roused the two engineers, bleary-eyed and barely rested from the last shift. Neither of them complained though, eager enough for the work even if it came at a moment's notice and usually in some shithole that would have been better to send droids into. That was almost exclusively what they were treated to on what the New Republic designated as Resource Extraction Candidate X-45574. A most glorious and inspiring name for the hundreds of people who had volunteered to settle this inhospitable rock for reasons that were as varied as mind-numbing. Simon Sterling didn't blame them too much, the brutality of the Galactic Civil War and all that followed had tempted him to take up the offer as well. Gray speckled his short dark hair, this time not from plasma-cutter debris and he had started to resolve himself to taking a treatment to it, but either laziness or the idea of being seen as "experienced" killed that thought.

Joey was getting the speeder ready, a much younger man who had been born after all that chaos was just embers. He was younger than most out here, many of their fellow engineers people who had signed up because they were tired of the known galaxy and all that it entailed. Everywhere he looked, Simon could see the same faces and moods. At least here, with all the misery they had escaped the hell they knew.

"Hey Simon."

"Joey, remember the vane and to put the shields on a discharge cycle. Monitor hasn't notified of a change in weather over K-16 since this morning, so we need to pack the enviro-gear."

"Yeah, I got the suits stored away in the boot and made sure to set the deflectors to single-pass refractive. We should be good as long as we avoid the hotspots."

"Whose turn was it to fly anyways? Was it you or me that did the run on G-38?"

"No idea, been a bit of a rough shift since our last outing. I can fly if you want though."

"... I think I'll just fly us this time, no need to take any chances. K-16 is always a bit moody and you don't have your advanced cert yet."

"Fair enough, let's strap in and go."

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For hours there had just been the sound of environmental suits pumping oxygen through the hardened tubes, ensuring that both men could still breathe despite the toxic miasma below and the ravaging storm above. Electromagnetic disturbances screeched and careened off the charred pillars that burst from the ground for the couple hundred square kilometers that was Grid Section K-16. Some of the others theorized them to be some kind of Pre-Republic ruins of some kind, though the last one that had been able to actually get close enough to one without getting ripped apart had commented on the strangely organic nature of them. Simon and Joey were not archeologists though, nor were they biochemists. Whatever theory there was about the tangled morass that was K-16's scorched pillars and bridges, it didn't matter to them.

No, what they were there for was the recently revealed glint of metal within the grid. Wrecked starships were the most coveted prize of all in the Unknown Regions, as unlike within the greater galaxy, there was no guarantee it could just be some random ship. Here there was still wonder, mystery and… The Unknown. That pitch had been given so many times to the engineers, that it even came to them in their dreams, was a bit of a joke muttered at the canteen and had truly lost most of its meaning. Yes, the Initiative was vital in many ways, but only the New Republic pretended to see it as anything other than what it was. It was a desperate ploy to get the citizens of the galaxy distracted from the underlying issues, away from the still smoking ruins of the Galactic Civil War and to give the Remnants something to generate charity with. No one understood that better than these two, particularly as Joey's father was Pentastar admiralty and Simon fought with the Alliance during those turbulent years.

Yet both of them had resolved themselves to this task despite it all. Despite the powderkeg that was still their home, and the utter futility of their task itself.

"Got a lock on the abnormality."

Abnormalities was what the Monitors liked to call things like this. Anything and everything that stuck out from the natural order of things, looked manufactured or just looked interesting. Most of the time it was just something inane, a striation of rock that had been disturbed by seismic movements, or places like K-16 itself. The whole grid section and some parts of the surrounding sectors was considered an abnormality, mostly because it was the only part of the planet where the pillars were. Elsewhere was just nothing. REC X-45574 had been utterly unremarkable save for this one region, and if it wasn't for the discovery of a possible starship wreck, Simon figured they might have been packing up soon.

"Taking us in slow and steady, get the stablights ready."

They approached through a particularly dense area of pillars, the lights flaring up and illuminating them. Striations of the scorched surface material made dancing shadows, a strangely natural pattern to the ridges and valleys. Simon carefully guided the speeder underneath one larger than a freighter, a groan sounding as the mass shifted with the wind and nearly made both of the engineers jump out of their skin. Few enough actually were still on the list for K-16, only volunteers now willing to head into the mess that it was. This was why. There was no reason for it all, no method, not even madness. Just chaos. Everyone had seen battlefields and the disasters they had left behind, but this was something else entirely.

Closer and closer the pair came until finally, coming around the side of one of the pillars their lights hit the abnormality. Shattered and broken into three pieces was the wreck of a starship just as they assumed, the pillars winding around it and looking as if they had yanked it out of the sky. It was close enough to the ground that they could see wreckage strewn below, likely the personal belongings of whoever had been unlucky enough to have been on board.

There they settled the speeder down, the electrostatic vane extending so as to direct any errant disturbances towards the speeder and away from where the engineers were working. It was their job to investigate first, ensure the scene was safe, and once it was determined so the other experts would come to do what they did best. All around them were the lives of people they had never known, nor ever would. Clothes lay scorched in the sand, a couple medkits buried partially here and there, some weapons discarded or perhaps thrown from the crash. Chaos, just like the rest of K-16.

"Well, unfortunately looks like it's Republic or Imperial, can't be too sure until we get to the datacore since it has no markings."

"Kind of an older one though, right Simon?"

"Yeah, if I'm not mistaken… Some kind of modified CR90 from the looks of it. These old girls could run forever, I'll tell you what."

A bit of chatter went back and forth between the younger man and the older one, the former never minding the way the latter seemed to like talking about the old days. For all it was back then there had been heroes, as he was fond of saying. Steadily they climbed through and into the crushed hallways of what looked to be the main deck, seeing yet more devastation but not what they had expected. Outside was what they expected, strewn belongings and discarded supplies as what they assumed to be survivors shed weight to look for civilization. Inside… Inside it was a battlefield. Blaster marks littered the walls, their directionalization looking as if repelling boarders, but neither of them were experts on such things. Long thin gouges ran the length of the corridor, stopping and starting in places only to continue until they reached the main living space and near the computer core. Multiple barricades had been set up long ago, defensive positions without any sign of the defenders and only dimpled marks in the deck plating to show where grenades had gone off.

"Fuck Simon, this ship…"

"Yeah, starting to get a bit of a bad feeling. I'm going to pull the black box records and see if we can at least get an ID on the ship. Watch my back."

Neither felt as confident as they had before, what had started as just a simple "look and book" as most called a run into K-16 had complicated in ways that they just knew would mean yet more months on the dustball. As Simon worked at the datacore, wires trailing from his handheld terminal and fingers working at the keypad, his partner kept a steady lookout on both the corridor to the bridge and where they had come from. Something here was seriously spooky and the younger man in particular wasn't too keen on finding out what it might be. He stepped lightly, the sound of his rebreather rapid and showing the growing panic. All around him was the scene of a battle, except for one thing. There wasn't a single body. Sure there were scorch marks, a few smears of old blood on the floors and walls here and there, but shouldn't there have been bodies?

"Got it!"

A moment of silence passed as Simon stared at the information displayed on his datapad, face paling at the name in bold and the most recent crew listing.

"Well?"

"It's… Fuck me, it's the Noreaster. The Noreaster."

"What is that? Some kind of special ship?"

Sometimes he forgot about how the remnants often operated the same as their Imperial predecessor. To him, he had grown up alongside the Rebellion, fought with them and watched legends like this rise to prominence. For Simon, who had once crossed paths with her crew, this ship was more than special.

"No, she's a legend among the Outer Rim. Surely you've heard of the Gray Mariners and their captain?"

"Well yeah, everyone has. They were some kind of special ops group with the Rebellion, weren't they?"

"Ha, anything but. That's just what Pentastar and Hand want you to think. These people, they were like us kid. Outer Rim through and through. Sure, maybe not all of them started in the 'Rim, but it was their home. They did what back then, we all dreamed of. Rising up from nothing, from being just a bounty hunter, just a smuggler, just getting by. Each of them had come together on this ship and one day resolved to be more."

"They sound like the real deal."

"You're damn right they were. Never before had such a crew come together, and somehow become more than just that. These people, they didn't care who you were or what you did. If you were able to contribute and were willing to be part of the crew, they welcomed you. No matter what. Shit, some of them had been wanted by the Empire dead for millions of credits. Yet still, rumor says they had the sack to actually turn in bounties to them and demand their fair pay."

"Rumor also says they killed krayt dragons, held their own with Vader and stole a Star Destroyer."

"Yeah, well maybe some of their deeds have been exaggerated over the years, but there's one thing they did that you should know quite well. They're the ones that killed Viron Jek."

"Wait, holy shit. That was them? They stopped the Dread-Tide?"

"Details are a bit fuzzy, but everything I've heard says they stormed the bastard's ship and killed everyone in their way, sabotaged it and hacked the turbolasers to rip apart his own fleet. Then, just to ice the damn cake, they airlocked that big bastard."

"If they did all that, and were so great, what happened to them?"

Simon went silent, this part of the story had more rumors and myth to it than any other. In truth no one knew what happened, just that one year the Gray Mariners disappeared from the Galaxy.

"All of that fighting and struggling wears on someone kid. They had earned their place in the annals of legend, fought and lost many along the way in order to be counted among the greatest heroes of the galaxy. Yet... Some losses are too great. Sometimes, all it takes is one person to keep a family together, and when they're gone there's nothing left. Even legends need someone to bring them together, and some people say that without her they just couldn't continue as if nothing had changed."

---

Anchorage, The Outer Rim - Current Day
First Port - Last Resort Cantina

"Viron Jek? Sounds like a fucking loser."

Glass met durasteel and the woman speaking gave a wry grin at the others gathered around her. Rumors had been circulating for the last week of potential competition for the great game, of who looked set to be top of the pack and who would be eliminated first. Solace truthfully cared little as to what the brokers thought of the game and which way the bets were swinging, though she had given her word that she wouldn't do anything to "endanger the Noreaster's standings". Their own broker's insistence that one, looking to score a little extra for either himself or the ship's coffers by betting both for and against the company. Anywhere else, it might have been considered illegal, but here most things were and only a few things were against the rules. The lack of a blaster at her hip showed her adherence to the first and foremost of them, keeping compliant with the Harbormaster's desire to keep people from killing each other on the iceworld.

A good brawl was a different story, and she had just been treated to a couple fine ones, giving a wave towards the formerly charming smuggler who now looked far less so. It was an eventuality in these places, and she enjoyed a good fight here and there, especially when she was encouraged not to start any or get into any. Precious little other fun could be had, as not many appealed to her standards, and the drink was about as harsh and foul as it usually was. Truly, the only reason her and the crew came to First Port was to see who might be in need, set up an interview and onboard some fresh blood. With the imminent festival and competition, there was a relative glut of independents searching for a crew to make their name with. Her cybernetic eyes gave a soft whirr as they focused in on one in particular, her reticence to use her other gifts here forcing her to rely on more mundane means. On second thought that one was a bit too much of a liability, she moved on to scanning other prospects as the prior one got involved in a fight with a KX droid.

The crunch of bone and an incredibly manly scream over the pounding music explained exactly how well that particular choice went. She brushed aside a bit of her short auburn hair, the color dark in the dim light of the cantina and only occasionally going a vibrant shade as the flashing lights hit it.

"Seriously though, I've got my doubts on this one."

A contact of hers sat beside her, a rather squirrely looking rodian that had looked terrified the moment she thought to voice her thoughts on what he identified to be major competition to their outfit. He had explained a few of the details, and she recognized the last name well enough to know what he was about. The Jeks were a long-standing family of reavers and pirates that had been harassing the Republic for as long as there had been one by some accounts, and this Viron had been a particular thorn in the Empire's side of late.

"Look, I'm just saying he sounds like an absolute edgelord. I mean, what kind of dumb fucker names his ship Deathknell. Ooooooh, so scary. And the Dread-Tide? Seriously? Unless the dude is like twelve feet tall and jacked to shit, I'm not even going to bother with him. We've done well enough on our own so far, and we'll keep doing fine even if some edgelord tries to interfere in our bounties. Shit. We'll just kill him and add him to the score. Isn't that right, crew?"

Star Wars: The Harbor's Due

@Hellion@Amethyst Loril and Sai'rys are clear for sending over.

As a note, do apologize for the bit of time it's been taking regarding launching the IC, sickness has been unforgiving on that note and drained pretty much any inspiration to write. I'll for sure have at least something done over the weekend though, as I generally have no other choice lol.

Star Wars: The Harbor's Due

@Hellion Read through the sheet and it looks pretty good from what I can tell. If you're looking for someone to collab on that section of the CS, I certainly don't mind once I've gotten through this cold/flu. Most of us are also on the Discord where we have been doing quite a bit of plotting regarding character relations, who knows who how well, and who is mostly likely to get shot first once the IC starts. Of course, there's a lot of bants, but I think that's the selling point personally :v

So yeah, feel free to swing by the discord and see who wants to collab something out. Fairly certain most of us would be open to it to some degree or another.

Star Wars: The Harbor's Due

@Eviledd1984 It's all good, honestly I'm sick as shit right now so there's no rush on characters.