nysalogs | ain't seen the light since we started this band ( open )

Oh – alright. That makes it clear enough. (Jim's pretty observant, but he's not quite got a handle on what weapons are strictly native or otherwise, having found himself thoroughly confused by bullet-firing pistols already.) His body language shifts slightly at the revelation, more honestly attentive.

“Allegedly,” is what he says about worlds being gone. Look, man, he's seen some weird shit. But he moves on, and shrugs. “I heard the cattle call to action, and seeing as I got dragged up to the ground zero horror show, I'm interested in seeing how it shakes out.”

[ ooc - i'm so sorry for the delay, i had some strugglebus days irl!! orz;; ]

Allegedly.

76 appreciates anyone who maintains a healthy skepticism about their situation, and that alone makes him more willing to give the other man the time of day. Especially since it seems like he has a personal stake in this mission to find the rogue shamans.

He nods, accepting the explanation. All things considered, it will be easier to work with another refugee on something like this. He doesn't have to worry about trying to blend in on top of everything else.

"I could use the extra set of eyes," he admits, as he gives the stranger a quick once-over. "What kind of experience do you have?"

"I'm a captain in Starfleet, which is the exploratory, humanitarian, and defense force of the United Federation of Planets," Jim says easily. Jeez louise has he had to trot that line out a lot here. "I'm normally captain of the fleet's flagship, the USS Enterprise, but I was in interim command of the Endeavor before being brought here, as she's being rebuilt."

Jim shrugs. Plenty of military-grade experience, not so much detective work, though he can pinch-hit most things given the wide variety of situations he's been in.

"How about you? Military?" He seems the type. Sort of.

That's one hell of an introduction, but this Starfleet doesn't sound so different from Overwatch, only on a larger scale. Captain of a spaceship, huh? That's certainly good enough for him. So long as the guy isn't a civilian, he should be able to take on a search like this one. Mainly 76 wants to be sure he won't have to do any babysitting if things get hairy.

"Ex-military," he clarifies, and even that is only half-correct. Overwatch hadn't been a purely military operation, after all, but he isn't going to tell someone he's just met about what his life used to be. He hasn't told most anyone that, if they didn't already know.

"You ready to get going?" 76 doesn't want to waste any time, but he at least thinks to ask this much before he marches off to begin his search.

Jim's already heard of Overwatch, courtesy of someone else - but that's neither here nor there, seeing as none of this meta narrative is out loud. Anywhoo, he nods, accepting the (ex) explanation, and giving his affirmative answer. Leggo.

"Jim Kirk, by the way." So nobody's shouting hey you in a crisis. He doesn't stop for formalities, though, eager to get moving and see this thing through.

"We have any intel available or is this just a matter of casting a net over the right patch in the river?"

There's an efficiency in which Kirk handles the situation that 76 appreciates. No point in wasting time shaking hands or exchanging small talk, when there's a job to be done. Not that he would expect anything different from someone who used to be in a position of command. They're always strapped for time.

"You can call me 76," he says in return. It's good to know that much about each other, at least.

As for how to go about this search, he already has a few ideas. "We have some options," he explains. "We could head back up the mountain and question whoever's there, see if they'll give us some leads if we apply pressure." 76 isn't above a good interrogation, if the mission calls for it. "There's also a link between the shamans and that monster blood that people were giving out, so if you know of anyone who was dealing that stuff, we could question them too."

"76," is a quick affirmation of nice-to-meet-you. He's mildly curious, now, if it's just a code name or if he's an android of some kind, but those are questions for another time.

Jim considers for a moment, then: "I think everyone up at the shrine has talked as much as they're able. People weren't too happy with them, and if they haven't bolted, they're probably in the clear. I know a couple guys, though, who might be able to point us in the direction of a dealer, if not hook us up outright."

Bartenders and weirdos he's taken on odd mechanic jobs for, mostly. Jim's no blackops agent, he'd never pass muster as a spy (subtlety??? whose mans is this), but he understands hustling pretty damn well, and can read people.

Android or cyborg is a common assumption made about him when 76 gives a number as his name, but it's really not that complicated. He just doesn't much like to give out his real name these days, for a whole host of reasons.

It's still possible that those shamans who have chosen to stay at the altar might be able to tell them something about where their radical brothers have gone, but 76 doesn't mind working the angle that Kirk suggests, either.

"Works for me," he says almost automatically, nodding. "Go ahead and lead the way, then." He gestures forward, ready to fall into step at Kirk's side.

Indeed there might be more information up at the altar, so hopefully others are up picking through those remains. With multiple aspects to look into, there's no time to waste dithering-- if this doesn't pan out, at least it can be crossed off the list. (It would be nice, Jim thinks, if refugees were a bit more united, more inclined to work together for momentum, if not for a singular goal. But one thing at a time.)

"I've been doing a lot of weird odd jobs," he says as they go, keeping a brisk pace. "Just trying to get my bearings, figure this city - this planet - out."

Because it's REAL WEIRD, MAN.

The refugees work together enough in situations such as this that 76 is fine with it. He's well aware that some people want a more organized and unified front. While he's all too familiar with the benefits that kind of plan would have, he has no interest in it himself. Been there, done that, got the scars and the bitterness to show for it.

Odd jobs is how 76 had made his money initially. It's the best way to make silver when you don't want to necessarily sign yourself up for a full-time commitment.

"Define weird," he says with a glance toward Kirk. 76 has seen plenty since he first arrived on El Nysa, but he's still curious.

Y'all can take the stubbornly optimistic Star Trek post-scarcity future out of his cold dead hands. (Or not, there are enough multiverses out there full of equally stubborn Kirks, death is no obstacle!! Anyway.)

"Basic mechanic work for simple machines, bar back stuff, finding someone's lost baby flying dragon, collecting feathers from swamps, identifying mystery frogs.." it's nutty, varied, but informative. Sort of. Jim's opinion of these cities is still more than a little low; he won't feel bad about that for another week or two in-game, alas. Everything's just so primitive.

The people are alright, though. Mostly.

"You've made a career out of it, huh?" In the Knightryders.

It makes sense that someone who's usually on a spaceship would be more than capable of repairing anything that broke around here. The rest of what Kirk talks about sounds much like the sort of work that 76 used to pick up when he didn't have such a steady gig. He's a little more choosy with side work now, but he's also been here long enough to establish himself.

El Nysa is primitive, Kirk will find no argument from 76 on that point. But it's the only place they've got to live, so they've got to deal with it.

At the question, he shrugs a shoulder. "It pays the bills." Not that he actually has bills, save for rent, but he and Ana have to eat. "And it has its benefits."

"What kind of benefits?" The question is more honest curiosity than any form of info-fishing; Jim's too up front for proper deception. The Knightryders are an interesting group - they seem more like barely-organized vigilantes than an actual police force, but they're clearly what passes for that kind of thing, in Wyver. He's interested, too, in the fact that so many locals want the investigations double-checked by another faction operating outside the government.

ain't seen the light since we started this band ( open )

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sorry for the delay!! i was out of town

np at all my dude

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