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Post by Deleted on Sept 1, 2016 5:20:46 GMT
Namorel
Powerlevel: 5,130 [Base -75% Heavy Weights]
It had been some time since Namorel last visited West City. However that time had turned into a mush less favorable approach with the instance of the fight where the namekian tried to help the super powered being known as Celmaru. He had yet to interact again with the saiyan halfling and his peculiar green life partner. Come to think of it he hadn't seen Noxa since that day either. It was peculiar, the bio android woman always seemed to run into the namekian at the most peculiar times, but it hadn't been happening a lot lately; It was neither worrying or reassuring, but he had become rather used to it and it felt peculiar. Who knows, he may see her in the city today, she seemed to spend most of her time around the city anyways... a place Namorel almost never visited. For this he did not know, the sounds no longer bothered him... perhaps it was just the number of people that were there or the crowded feeling he got from how close the buildings were to one another... anyways he did not know.
Without any encounters with those he knew however; he had been part of a few other interesting encounters with a few saiyans and an odd human being. Kaile seemed like the rambunctious type that intentionally got herself into trouble, while Raida was the more bestial type of being. The human on the other hand... Ayumu eluded Namorel in every sense of the idea that was curiosity and investigation. The man had no power level that the scouter could pick up, yet he had some sort of overwhelming pressure to him... a sort of magical pressure that better symbolized the possible power hidden with in the man. The peculiar ... ritual? That the human enacted with Namorel... something about fire was it...
"This last week has just been a convoluted mess."
The namekian said to himself as he turned unto a street known as 'Iguana Street'. He had heard bad rumors of this street, but was not worried about the possible mugging or attacking that may occur down here. He was looking for a very specific... was it a club that the humans called it? Whatever it was he was looking for it so that he could get a taste of a type of music he had overheard, hearing that the club specialized in 'underground' musicians. Perhaps he would take a shot at it himself if he could find the damned place that is. His appearance would be daunting as he walked down the wide street, his cape blowing gently in the wind and his immense stature scaring off most humans as he approached them.
KP: 3/3 [No Techniques used]
@noxa
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Post by Deleted on Sept 1, 2016 13:25:11 GMT
Thread power level 57,186!
Heavy weights ACTIVE! Current PL: 14,296!
There was a lot of reasons for Noxa’s disappearance from Satan City. It was still her home — her ‘nesting zone’ as she came to call it. The most important reason for the woman’s ‘break’ had been the recent destruction that had taken place there. An innocent day for Noxa had rapidly devolved into a clusterfuck.
The woman had started off looking for a fun little adventure, but instead she found herself captive by armed bank robbers. She had been taken hostage and lured into a high-speed chase… Which was then turned into an all-out rumble when a giant monster showed up out of nowhere, destroying the city.
Long story short: there was a lot of broken infrastructure that needed to be fixed, and all of that ‘fixing’ meant eons of construction work. Noxa didn’t like construction — especially not at seven in the fucking morning when she was trying to sleep! So, naturally she began to sleep within the city less and less.
The other reason for her departure was simple: she’d been told to explore the world. Learn more about human culture and civilization. That’s exactly what she was doing here in West City. She was told by a news broadcast that ‘there was never a boring day here’ — and the reports had been right so far. This entire place was bustling with life! Shady characters, music, businessmen, food stalls… This place had it all!
Noxa had been here for a few days already. She’d have gotten a little ‘hint’ of how this place operated. She wasn’t exactly a big fan, but it definitely had its charm. In an attempt to blend in a little better, Noxa had bought some camouflage — or, rather, clothes. It was a necessity, really. Noxa had already been forced to knock-out quite a few people who gave her trouble for sticking out. Their comments had all so far revolved a canine dame, much to Noxa’s confusion; she had no pets, and certainly had no canine DNA within her.
Either way, her shopping list thus far had consisted of: A yellow and purple snap back, which she always wore every way imaginable — except the way a snap backwas meant to be worn. Vibrant green shutter shades. A very ratty, very pink tube top. A purple hoodie that was several sizes too much — zipper absolutely didn’t work. Red boxers with white stripes. Often visible, because her pants were always sagging. Pants so baggy no one could even see her shoes, which were... 700-zeni pair of Geordans.
Noxa didn’t exactly enjoy this look. She much preferred her bio-armor. In fact, this didn’t even come close to the wonderful silk pajamas she had been introduced to while under Katsu’s care. Still, wearing this had caused Noxa to at the very least not get weird glances while walking down Iguana street. Her outfit had carried out its primary purpose flawlessly: keep her hidden in plain sight.
Noxa sucked on a lollipop as she wandered the crime-infested street. She walked by half-destroyed stands which sold CDs; she walked by gamblers who crouched at street corners, rolling dice. There was all kinds of activity here — all of which she’d grown accustomed to in just a matter of days. The woman rolled the grape-flavored lollipop around her mouth just as much as she rolled her eyes at at the occasional offer of mixtapes. She didn't even bother responding to the last one who offered her his 'lyrical genius' — some slim, ivory-skinned guy with a buzzcut — word 'shady' written proudly over his shirt's chest. It wasn't before Noxa shove him out of the way and told him to sit down that something caught her gaze.
Both her sucking and eye-rolling, however, came to a stop.
Something caught her eye. Noxa’s jaw dropped. The lollipop would have easily smashed in the ground, if he hair had not acted fast and snatched it mid fall. Strands of her red mane stuck the purple sucker back into her mouth and the woman closed her jaw — mumbling a thanks to her instinct-driven hair.
STILL! What she was was unmistakable! Lean! Mean! Green! It was the swag machine: Namorel! Noxa had only recently learned to sense Ki, but the woman didn’t need to sense ki to KNOW that was her bro. The woman zoomed past many kiosks and gamblers, blurring towards Namorel. Should Namorel not sense her coming the redhead would smash into him, sending the two tumbling through the pavement.
Plenty of phones were whipped out as other bystanders others shouted atop of their lungs “WOURL STAR!”
Those claims, however, would easily be drowned out by Noxa’s cry of “NAMOREL — MAH NAMEK! WHERE YOU BEEN?!”
A small crowd had gathered around the two. However, they quickly dispersed once they realized there were no punches being thrown.
“WHAT ARE YOU DOOOINNG HEEREE?! SO FAR FROM YOUR MOUNTAINS! AND SATAN CITY!”
The idea that the green man had come this far out into the human world — really blew Noxa’s mind. The Bio Woman was happy to see that Namorel was attempting to broaden his horizon, just like her! Or, at least that was her preliminary assumption.
Assuming Namorel had not moved out of the way — or stopped Noxa — the woman would at that point attempt to help him up alongside herself. The woman dusted her raggy clothes promptly — mumbling something about the lack of ‘respect’ the dirt had for her ‘dope-ass style’.
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Post by Deleted on Sept 4, 2016 21:27:49 GMT
Namorel
Powerlevel: 5,130 [-75% Heavy Weights]
Iguana Street didn't seem like the kind of place Namorel would normally visit and those that looked at him with dismay or irritation seemed to feel the same way about an alien being on their turf. However none of hem would bother to attack the tall, green and muscular namekian that continued walking, his eyes were sliding from side to side as he continued to search for the club he had heard of. All of these buildings looked the same to Namorel, although some were more run down then others or seemed shadier than they really needed to be. This didn't bother Namorel, his scouter reassured him to the fact that these humans were not a threat to him in any manner. However his scouter then lit up in a flash and blinked rapidly for him to turn around. He had a split second before Noxa would have crashed into him, he swung his body to the side and grabbed whatever limb he could of Noxa's to save her from the fate of falling on the ground as well.
"I could ask you the same question. However I am looking for a.. club? Of some sorts around here. I think it was called 'West City 12'. The name sounded interesting and I heard there was a variety of music there I have not heard yet."
The namekian replied to the bio-android. She was dressed in a manner that didn't really fit her usual attire and made Namorel curious. However he bothered not to ask on this matter and let her do what she wanted in that regard. Instead awaiting her reply. Perhaps she knew here way around this street unlike him. He also found it rather peculiar that he had alwys met with her in instances like this, but again that was another matter he did not want to question.. the universe did operate in weird ways.
KP: 3/3[No Techniques used]
@noxa
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Post by Deleted on Sept 5, 2016 4:42:49 GMT
Namorel’s quick thinking and fast reaction was what kept the duo from sprawling to the ground. Noxa stumbled a bit as the Namekian’s grip firmly found itself on her bicep. The woman was taken by surprise — she hadn’t expected the green man to be so fast! It had been a while since they hadn’t seen each other, and it was more than clear that she wasn’t the only one who had done some growing. This idea of a new, improved Namorel really made Noxa’s heart beat just a little faster — so exciting! She couldn’t wait to fight him again! After all, the last sparring match between the two was absolutely thrilling; she couldn’t imagine what it would be like now, that both warriors had long surpassed their previous plateaus.
“West City 12, huh?” Noxa found herself repeating after him. The simpering woman, beaming with the joy of reunion, found her lips splitting into a wide grin. “You’re in luck, green man! I know exactly where that is!” Noxa said proudly, “I’ve been here for a few days; I’ve passed by it a few times on some business, but I can’t say I’ve gone into it yet!”
A hearty chuckle left her lips, though she found herself taking a few steps back to better admire just how much her friend had changed.
“Sweet new get up! I see Celmaru really had an effect on ya!” The woman mumbled, reaching up and letting her fingers tap on the side of her temple, referring to Namorel’s scouter. “Haha — green suits you!” Her eyes narrowed, “Though the cape and everything else looks a bit more unique. Either way, still looks good!” She assured him.
Although there were a few questions that popped in Noxa’s mind. She took a few steps back, bringing her left hand up and motioning over her left shoulder with her thumb. “I’ll take you you there, big guy. C'mon.”
Noxa turned around, stuffing her hands into her pockets as she began to make her way down the street. Her wavering scarlet hair, which held her lollipop still, returned it to her mouth once she had begun walking. The sugary treat was nearly completely corroded by now, only a light coating remained on the white plastic stick. Still, the woman rolled it between her teeth as she strolled through the concrete jungle. Behind her not-so-glassy glasses the Bio Android couldn’t help but once again take in her surroundings. Plenty of commerce, poverty, pollution.
The culture in West City was a little fun. It was carefree and reckless. The redhead would be lying if she’d claim she had not submerged herself into it quite a lot since her arrival… But she still couldn’t wait to get out and explore greener pastures. In the back of her head Noxa decided this would be her last adventure here before she moved on and tried exploring the world a bit more. Maybe she would come back eventually — who knows? But she had certainly spent more than enough time here.
Although, that bit of inward thought did make the Bio Woman wonder just how much the culture here would take to Namorel. She supposed it wasn’t going to be long until she found out; the club wasn’t very far away.
Noxa’s path continued down Iguana street, though she looked over her shoulder, peeking at her friend. “So, Namorel… Music, huh? I see you started enjoying a bit more of Earth culture since you arrived. Started off not even able to walk in a city and now here we are: going into a club.” That just served to further illustrate another point Noxa had earlier acknowledged: Namorel had grown. Not just as a warrior, but as an all around Namekian.
[OOC: Feel free to describe the club and path there if you want. If not I'll take care it when it's my turn again. ^^]
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Post by Deleted on Sept 5, 2016 9:17:16 GMT
Namorel
Powerlevel: 5,130 [-75% Heavy Weights]
Namorel stood content with his success in keeping the both of them from falling to the ground, which in its own regard did not seem like a pleasant location for one to plant their face upon, the cracks and unclean environment was just seething with bacterium and disease. It was almost kind of sad really, it was obvious that this portion of West City was very underdeveloped and as such was very, very unclean and unsafe for anyone unprepared really. It almost made Namorel question whether he should visit the club or not, but perhaps he was merely judging Iguana Street by its outward appearance rather than any other details. So he turned those thoughts over and found it reasonable to give the street and general area a chance to change his mind on it and its level of development. Namek never suffered problems like this, if you don't include the Demon Clan periodically making places like this intentionally, because the planet lacked any infrastructure beyond that of the Solar Saiyan Empire that called it home now.
"That's good to know, I was quite lost on my own out here to be honest."
The namekian replied to the bio android who said she had located the place once before, but had never really bothered to enter herself. Going in blind could offer to be both a let down and an experience Namorel thought, but what better way to immerse one's self in the culture of the planet you resided on than to plow headway into the unknown and become one with it. Based on Noxa's appearance it was obvious she had done similar. So perhaps Namorel would benefit from doing the same himself. He was really, really curious about the nature of this music variant he had heard of and wanted to see how it compared to the few he had already encountered on this planet... the trumpet was still his favorite instrument he had seen.
"It is a traditional style, but you sound a lot like Ayumu in regards to the cape."
Namorel once more replied to Noxa, she commented on his attire and as he had said, she talked of his cape a lot like the human did, although she didn't flat out call it an obstruction to his combat capabilities, but rather just considered it odd form what Namorel could tell. As for the scouter he had almost forgotten it was there and lifted it from his face to set it in his pouch as he wouldn't need it any time soon, for he knew Noxa would not be any threat to him and no one would bother to attack the two of them at once on a street like Iguana Street, where they risk being mugged.
"I know right! As for music, my interest was really peaked when I met this saiyan named Endivia and she showed me the wonders of music... now I must hear it all. So the club seemed favorable."
Namorel replied as they walked down the street, past a few decrepit alleyways where people had set up very weak shelters, sometimes he would see young children sitting in the small huts and just frown at the scene before him. The streets were no better, with cars torn piece by piece and barrels of rubbish set ablaze on the edges of the sidewalks. Namorel could only look on in a saddened dismay at the chaotic cesspool these people had to live in and that no one was out here trying to help them.
"This is pitiful... why doesn't anyone try to help these people?"
Namorel would silently mutter, while still being loud enough to be heard. He wasn't really asking for an answer, but he was hoping there would be a way he could perhaps make the lifestyles of the people here better, even by the smallest margin... on Namek no one had to suffer like this and Namorel could not understand why Earth was like this... the capital of happiness and freedom was it?
KP: 3/3[No Techniques used]
@noxa
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Post by Deleted on Sept 6, 2016 16:10:25 GMT
Walking through the more derelict parts of Iguana street hardly meant anything to Noxa; she didn’t really care. In fact, she felt right at home; this wasn’t very different from most settlements in Zilyana. Ratty children — possibly orphans; debris and destroyed infrastructure; hunger; poverty; the occasional fire — Noxa has seen it all. Namorel has simply just discovered these things. Noxa was born in it; molded by it.
“Well, to be fair a lot of people seem to… Well, not enjoy it, but certainly live happy lives despite these conditions. I’ve learned that humans are weird like that; they can find a way to be… Happy. Make their homes from whatever place they are put in.”
Everything she said was viewed as true, though it may have sounded as though she was attempting to justify the situation. She wasn’t; it was simply a way to convey a different, more hopeful light to Namorel.
“Some people do try to help. Some offer relief with money. Some offer relief with guidance. I think the latter is just as — if not more — important. It’s easy to lose your way in a place like this; the easiest way out is usually the same that brings everyone else down as a whole. Those guides sometimes use music, martial arts, fandoms — whatever they can.”
The walking duo didn’t stop walking; they continued deeper into the decrepit street. Eventually, past a myriad of buildings — some dirty; some unpainted; one or two burnt down — Noxa stopped and turned completely. She faced a four story building. It was a brick n’ mortar build. It had been given a lick of brown paint, but ultimately it was hard to see beneath the hundreds of graffiti that covered most of the lower walls. The woman had passed by this building many times, but it was only in taking her time looking at it that Noxa found herself noticing a few things.
The graffiti — it was actually rather pleasant to stare at. Eloquent colors of both jagged and curvy proportions. Not just tags decorated the wall, but also art. Beneath a large scribbled name the woman was able to see the vague image of a Namekian. The image was carefully faded in with the same spotty quality as all the other graffiti, though it was clearly given a lot of time and attention.
“Here we are.” Noxa reached up, pointing her purple-painted nails at a bright neon sign. It read ‘West City 12’, although the same conclusion could be drawn by the ‘W.C.12’ lettering that was vaguely worn away, just high enough so that most of the other artists couldn’t get to.
The door to the building was wood — just like all the others. If Noxa paid attention she could vaguely hear the organic beats of thumping music that seemed to ooze from within the building. Noxa took a few steps towards the door. She reached for the door handle and gave a twist and a push. To her pleasant surprise, the door was open. Within, the first thing to hit Noxa was the smell of cheap cologne and refreshments.
Once the door had fully been opened she’d find a set of well-polished metal stairs leading upwards and downwards. Music flooded from both ends. A few gentlemen lingered at the door, though they paid the newcomers no mind; the men, despite being clad in the garbs or poverty, seemed to hold a relatively pleasant conversation about musical preference.
The Bio Android lead the way. Noxa would promptly begin to descend — having made her choice as to which stairway to take. It wasn’t much of a descent. Once the duo had reached the bottom they’d find that it wouldn’t have mattered which stairway they took; it would have led them to the same location. The entire building had been hollowed out — there was only one big room, with a few platforms for each of the upper levels.
Powerful speakers were placed in a central platform — a stage. The woman’s eyes looked around, spotting a few extra hidden gadgets that pumped more of the thumping music. Despite just how early it was in the morning, the place was relatively full.
“Hmm…” Noxa groaned, trying to make up her mind about the ambiance. It wasn’t her style, but the gathering around the stage indicated that some sort of event was soon to be taking place. Spotlights shone from above, bathing the empty stage and lonely microphone in a heavenly bastion.
It was a sight to behold, but Noxa would’ve been lying if she said her attention was centered around the event and the music. The redhead felt her eyes being drawn to the bar — a line of drinks and other goodies that lined part of the wall to the left. Noxa wasn’t particularly big on alcohol, but she could always use something good to eat.
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Post by Deleted on Sept 7, 2016 6:58:26 GMT
Namorel
Powerlevel: 5,130 [-75% Heavy Weights]
"How could anyone be happy in these conditions?"
This thought rang through Namorel's mind after Noxa spoke. These people lived like animal; he didn't understand how they could be happy with that lifestyle... it was more sad than anything and made Namorel feel something, he was unsure if it was discontent or sorrow... but it was not the sort of feeling he was used to, it was less selfish than his typical feelings. He did not let this feeling affect the mood of the moment however, he didn't want to convey it to Noxa or anyone for that matter... he wanted to understand this feeling before he would bother to share it with anyone. The same way he did after his father's death, hiding from society so he could try to come to terms with it rather than face those who may try to help or hinder him in regards to the feelings at hand. The small cardboard houses or simply trash bag beds were still bugging him, settling in the back of his mind to pester him for the remainder of the day.
The namekian continued to follow the bio android woman past the various decrepit buildings and indistinguishable buildings that rested at the edges of the road. Namorel was sure that he heard movement and talking inside some of these... and he thought he heard a contained explosion off int he distnace, but perhaps it was merely his imagination. There were moments as they walked that he wondered if these sort of neighborhoods ever served a purpose beyond the containment of the unfortunate in life. Some of the buildings seemed like they may have been important at some point in time, but now they sttod as monuments to the sins of mankind. The grey tone of many of these buildings, only hinted by the green of moss and vines that grew up their sides gave off a melancholy mood that Namorel synchronized with briefly.
After some time Noxa stopped walking to look at some street art on a wall, many of the words and symbols had a sort of edginess to them... it reminded him of the mood of some people he had met. The particular symbol she focused on seemed to be an attempt to design a namekian... Namorel was unsure if he was impressed or insulted by it. The detail was fantastic to an extent, but it was still rather choppy. The namekian followed Noxa into a building that was made apparent to be West City 12 by teh sign outside of it, despite its condition. Namorel could hear the sounds inside before they got anywhere close to the door, his ears even picking up some louder conversations within. Following Noxa in he would descend the stairs into the open room, sound booming from various devices. The stage soon became the center of attention as the empty stand contained an unused microphone, Namorel would draw to this like a moth to a flame, curious as to its intent.
KP: 3/3[No Techniques used]
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Post by Deleted on Sept 8, 2016 7:32:37 GMT
The crowd within the club seemed to gather more and more towards the center of the main room. Their coagulation foreshadowing the start of an event — something important enough to warrant descending two or four flights of stairs to get to. Noxa turned to her green friend, giving him a jab or two with her elbow. It wasn’t anything spiteful or mean, it was simply meant to get his attention. The ratchet-clad woman looked up towards her massive friend,
“Hey, I’m going to be at the bar, alright?” Noxa stated her purpose, reaching up with her arm and clearly pointing to the corner wall, where a line of drinks were stocked. “If you came here to just listen to the music why not tag along?” she suggested, “After all, you could ‘listen’ from there.”
The redheaded woman didn’t entirely wait for an answer. As soon as she had finished giving him a heads up she was already heading towards the bar. There were a handful more than a dozen of seats; most stools remained empty. The scarlet-haired woman found herself sitting at the center-most one. Both others on her sides were empty. There wasn’t a bartender in sight, which she found exceedingly bizarre. The woman looked yonder to her left, reaching out and snapping her fingers towards a woman. Pale; dreads; loose clothing; plenty of cheap perfume & makeup.
The strange woman, who seemed to be nursing some kind of beer bottle, turned her head. A set of bloodshot brown eyes gazed towards Noxa with inherent disdain.
“Why the hell you snappin’ at me, bitch?” Demanded the woman, bobbing her head towards Noxa.
Confrontational mannerisms from people with virtually non-existent power levels. Yep — exactly what Noxa had come to expect from West City.
Forced to either backdown or risk causing a scene, Noxa rose both her open hands to her sides. “Woah. Chill, chill. Ain’t traina’ start nuffin’.” Her tone and word choice had been warped; her vernacular had been heavily modified to match that of the woman. A skill Noxa always had — one she first successfully used it with Mu-Kal.
“Then wat’chu want? Tryin ta' start somethin'!” She demanded, her glare not seeming to let off in the slightest, though her body seemed to relax just a tad. As far as Noxa was concerned, that meant her ‘skill’ had once more been successfully implemented.
“Wonderin’ where that bartender is at, y’ feel me?” Noxa cocked her head back to the bar, “Tryin' ta' get somethin’ to drink.”
The redheaded Bio Android turned her head back just in time to see the woman extended her hand, pointing away from Noxa. At first, the Bio Woman assumed that this was some kind of rude gesture telling her to leave her alone. However, at the sound of a heavy staccato of thumps, Noxa turned her head to the opposite of the woman, turning her body right to look onto the stage.
There she saw a man. His skin was deep and tanned. He looked young — perhaps mid thirties. He could have been young, but his bald head did a number on the appearance of his youth. He wore clothing that was surprisingly neat. Black dress pants; black dress shoes; white dress shirt; black bow tie, That man, stood within the circle of light on stage, giving the microphone a few taps with his index, causing the massive drumming sound.
He cleared his throat before nearing the gadget.
“Good afternoon, everyone!” When he spoke Noxa found herself pausing. His voice — such a smooth, silky texture. “This is Golden Pipes comin’ at you to officially open the stage!”
There was a round of applause from the crowd. Whistling and a few shouts of ‘Oh Yeah!’ were also present.
“As you all know tonight is Open Mic night. Aspiring rappers, musicians, poets. All of you will have a stage for ONE performance. The event officially begins in an hour. Until then, whoever can sign up can have the stage to practice.”
The man reached from his side, pulling up what looked like a clipboard and a pen chained to one another. “This is the sign in sheet for both the pre-event practice,” HE said, “And beneath it is the sign in sheet for the MAIN event IF any of you decided to not sign up within the last week and want to jump in at the last minute… Well, you know where to find me.” The man rose his hand, taking a few steps back to indicate his end with the stage.
A roar of applause and adoring cheer followed his retreat. It seemed this man was universally loved within this community; an observation Noxa was to keep a close eye to. You never know when you might need to take someone’s likelihood to get out of a sticky situation.
The man exited the stage, waving his hand at a few of the crowd — the majority had begun to talk among themselves, or return the many tables that dotted the landscape. The man, ‘Golden Pipes’ returned to the bar. He began to indulge in small talk with the patrons who had been nearest his entrance to the right of where Noxa sat.
Eventually, he’d walk past her. To which Noxa knocked on the wood counter top. “Yo.” Noxa called, tempting to grab his attention without 'starting some shit'.
The man turned to face Noxa. He flashed his pearly white teeth, giving her a polite nod. “Welcome to West City 12!” He said with a hearty tone, “I haven’t seen you around her yet — hope you enjoy our little community.”
Noxa gave a curt nod, “Yeah. I just want somethin’ ta’ drink.” She looked at the selection behind him, “Give me the sweetest thing y’ got in stock.”
The man, kind of glad she didn’t ask for hard alcohol, was promptly serving Noxa some soda. It was far too often that he was forced to warn clients to not drink too much of her hard stuff; Golden Pipes hated confusion in his bar… And kicking out clients always put such a heavy toll on the mood.
The man placed the signing board beside Noxa as he served her. “Here for the main event?” He wondered, uncorking a bottle of fizzy pop. “I honestly expected a bigger crowd. Open Mic nights often gets the community really close together, y’ know? Everyone loves the rappers and comedians.”
The woman wrapped her hands around the chill, black, bubbly liquid that filled the cup handed to her. “No.” She said simply, “Just came to bring a friend.”
With that Noxa turned around. If Namorel had followed her to the bar she would end up introducing him.
“This is a close friend of mine — Namorel. He is a Namekian.” The woman mentioned, looking and giving a nod towards her Namekian buddy. “Tall, lean, and very green.” She was quick to chuckle at her own joke.
At some point, Noxa had gradually dropped the lingo. There wasn’t a point to having it on this conversation; Golden Pipes seemed like a civilized gentleman. She shouldn’t fear any social confrontation here.
Golen Pipes color code: 3e00ff
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Post by Deleted on Sept 8, 2016 8:26:02 GMT
Namorel
Powerlevel: 5,130 [-75% Heavy Weights;]
Namorel watched as attention was drawn to the stage; Noxa on the other hand seemed to turn her attention to the concession like area near the corner, she suggested the namekian to follow and not seeing any purpose as to remain in the are he stood in now he followed her; keeping his eyes on the stage. He would listen in on the conversation between Noxa and the human woman, astonished by the peculiarity while also remaining on stand by to restrain Noxa if the conversation went south. He, however, kept his eyes to the stage, his curiosity peeked exponentially as he watched. The conversation between Noxa and the stragne human female ended without conflict, Namorel thanked this fact, and wondering what the conversation was acutally over... not really catching the allusion of the interaction, instead losing himself in his thoughts while it occurred previously. The whole set up of this place was both interesting and cramped for Namorel's like... it may have been the placement of the furniture or the number of people, but Namorel felt it too small of an open area.
As soon as activity began to flare up ont he stage Namorel's attention was completely averted tot eh center of the attention. A human male with a slightly darker complexion took to the stage, picking up the microphone and speaking into it, it amplified his voice as he spoke. Namorel found this device rather handy fpr instance such as the one he stood in right now. As he spoke Namorel noticed a slight hype in the crowd of people that listened to him, he must have some sort of positive reputation with the people, was the first thought on Namorel's mind. As for the 'Open Mic' event Namorel was intruiged, curious as to what that meant and what sorts of acts would ensue from it when it began. He considered signing up, but was unsure on if he should or not, if he were to get a push from an outside source perhaps he would. As the man left the stage, Namorel's eyes followed him as he came past the bar, Noxa's abrupt communication with the man known as 'Golden Pipes' caught Namorel off guard and turned his attention to the two of them as they spoke. When Noxa introduced hims however he looked to the tanned man known as Golden Pipes and nodded in confirmation with Noxa's introduction.
"Impressive establishment here."
Namorel replied, unsure of what else he could say without making the moment rather awkward for anyone int he conversation at hand. He assumed the man was the owner of the club and could potentially relay him more information on the whole 'Open Mic' even tor even more. He would stand by and await a response for his previous statement beforehand however.
KP: 3/3[No Techniques used]
@noxa
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Post by Deleted on Sept 9, 2016 5:31:36 GMT
The dark-skinned man called ‘Golden Pipes’ was quick to address the Namek. The sight of a tall, green man was a sight for sore eyes.
“Ahh, Namekian.” He spoke, a lull of gladness causing the man’s words to stretch themselves to an almost reminiscent quality, “It really, really is good to see another one of you here. And, yes,” the man responded to Namorel's question, “I do own the place.”
He found his hands resting against the bar, leaning with just enough force to remove a bit of pressure off his feet. “But, if you want you can think of it as ‘holding it for a friend’.”
Noxa, upon hearing that, felt a sour look overtake her features. ‘Holding for a friend’? What kind of bizarre business idea was that?
“What do you mean?” The woman found herself blurting out, with a mouth still full of the foaming soda she had been sipping. She was quick to question this form of temporary ownership.
Golden pipes’ eyes moved away from the Namek’s own; he focused once more on the redheaded woman with the almost comically stereotypical getup.
“You see,” He began, “This place was built nearly forty years ago by a Namekian.” At the word ‘Namekian’ his silky voice took a pause, giving Namorel a sideways glance, before returning to Noxa.
“He was a kind man, who had begun to see the struggles West City faced. He did not agree with the degrees to which the poorer individuals of this city had to succumb to; he had a heart of gold and wanted to help. Sadly, he wasn’t necessarily a rich man.” Golden Pipes, as he spoke, reached for a nearby cleaning rag. With that in hand, the man gripped a nearby cup, beginning to give it a good polish. If he was here to tell a tale he might as well get busy while doing it.
“So, this Namekian did what he could; what believed would have been the best long term solution. He gathered up the Earthly possessions he had earned and purchased this building, which at the time was a derelict apartment building devoid of tenants — bound for demolition.”
Golden pipes found himself clearing this throat before resuming.
“This great Namekian began to work at the building. He spent countless hours reinforcing infrastructure and clearing out the inner floors. It took him years to complete his work, but in the end, West City 12 was born. He spent a few years afterward running the place. He used West City 12 as a hub to invigorate the community. West City 12 served as an aid to those whose spirits needed a little lift. He gave occupation and guidance t o the youth who needed one or the other — or sometimes both. In time, West City 12 became of cultural significance. And while the living conditions here have been slow to improve, the population’s soul is very much still alive.”
Noxa sipped on her soda. She wasn’t sure what the hell he was talking about, but the Namekian guy certainly seemed like an altruist.... A waste of time, in her books. She said nothing on the case. Instead, Golden Pipes continued to speak.
“The man became dearly beloved by the community. He used his love for the arts — particularly rap — to foster creativity. But, one day, he left. At the time I was one of the younger people who he took under his wing. I decided to take it up to myself to run the place in his stead. I still think he will show up again one of these days. Until then I’ve decided to keep West City 12 as close to its prime as I can.”
A duo came up to the counter as Golden Pipes had finished telling his story. They pushed themselves on either side of Noxa before speaking up.
“Hey, G.P. Anyone signed yet?” Demanded a little runt. It was a kid — a teenager no older than 14. Noxa gazed at him. He was slightly chubby with a shaved head, and baggy clothing. His skin was tanned and his chin hardly reached the bar.
“Yeah, G.P.! If not we want to practice first!” A girl, presumably his sister, whined onto the alternate side of Noxa. Her appearance contrasted that of her brother. She was tall, lanky, and dressed in very well-kept clothing.
The man, Golden Pipes, chuckled. “Alright, you two can just go ahead. I’ll give you both the first slot.” The simpering man shook his head as the two ran off towards the stage. He removed the clipboard and began to scribble their names down. “Always does my heart good to see ‘em get involved with music at such an early age.”
With their names penciled down, the Man found himself returning to his cup polishing. “So, Mr. Namekian. Will you be interested in participating in the activities today? Maybe watch the show a bit before making your mind up? Also, my apologies for not asking earlier, would you like something to drink? I would offer you a few snacks, but we are a tad bit short on food for the week.”
The Bio Android remained glued to her soda. She feverishly sucked at the straw as though she were a hummingbird who hadn’t fed in days. Still, she had a bit of curiosity in her. Noxa peeked left, noticing that the woman whom she had earlier talked to had since left. The cup of coffee she had been indulging was there, and within the cup was a spoon. Noxa reached for it, taking a hold of the shining utensil. Still nursing herself on the drink, the woman rose the silverware. Within its reflection she was able to see the two kids from earlier get on the sage; she was able to see the bar had finally settled to tables. Everything was in order. Everything was how a bar should be. Well, more or less.
Then, as though to break the norm, a thumping beat began. It came from the massive speakers on stage. It drowned out the soft ambient hip hop that played near the bar.
It was finally that which caused Noxa to pull herself from the drink.
“What the hell?” She mumbled, swerving herself in her seat just in time to watch as the boy and the sister began their routine.
“In West City, Born n’ raised; in the playground is where we spent most of our days!...”
They would begin to chant, indulging themselves within the rhythmic flow of the beat; alternating every other line. Noxa wasn’t exactly falling into some sort of musical epiphany, but her foot WAS tapping to the beat. If anything she could say that this music was rare — but at the very least it was rather catchy.
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Post by Deleted on Sept 13, 2016 1:08:59 GMT
Namorel
Powerlevel: 5,130 [-75% Heavy Weight Reduction]
So this 'Golden Pipes' man did happen to own the establishment to some regard at least. A namekian however... this was a development that Namorel had not expected from a question such as his, and well Noxa's by extension. Namorel had yet to see many structures.... or anything for that matter, built or managed by a namekian on Earth... it seemed the few that did live here almost always avoided such activity, but apparently this was not the case. It surely peaked Namorel's interest, he would have asked more about this namekian, but a shift in tone made him change his mind on that matter instead. Another note the man mentioned was the said namekian peaking an interest in rap... that was the one music style that had led him here int he first place, it was a rather ironic development for Namorel as he was led to such a place under the perfect conditions. The small kid that began to speak beside Namorel almost startled the namekian, whose attention was drawn to Golden Pipes and made him oblivious to the various sounds that were vibrating behind and around him. The kid was vastly younger than almost everyone in the club, yet him and the girl near Noxa showed interest in singing before the competition would begin amongst the contestants. Golden Pipes asked Namorel if he wanted to sign up or wanted a drink, as he heard the kids begin to sing he listened first before replying to the man.
"Sure, I'll sign up... as for a beverage, I'll be fine."
KP: 3/3[No Techniques used]
@noxa
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Post by Deleted on Sept 14, 2016 20:36:05 GMT
Noxa had nearly forgotten about the deliciously sweet beverage had been just been served. The woman gazed at the stage, watching as the show unfolded. The style of music was still bizarre to her as a whole, though the crowd seemed to rather enjoy the performance. They weren’t riled up — the performance wasn’t that good. Though there was definitely a sense of community there. Everyone seemed to pay a little bit of attention to the performing artists, even if it was just passing glances in-between rounds of conversation. On stage, however, the sibling duo just seemed to focus on having fun.
The man, golden pipes, put down his glass polishing, and reached for the clipboard. There was the sound of rapid, swift writing before his deep voice’s timber would speak up, reassuring Namorel that he was now registered for the practice round.
"Head up to the stage; see how comfortable you are. Try and spit some lyrics." The man encouraged, "See if you like it. If you have fun I will be more than happy to pen you down for the main event. All are welcome, after all — both novices and experts."
Noxa looked over at her green friend, head cranking upwards just so she could really look him in eye eyes.
“So, you’re going out there to perform?” she wondered, “Look at you — being all outgoing n’ stuff.” The woman found herself smiling, raising her soda to Namorel. “Cheers for that!”
The performance on the stage wouldn’t go for much longer. Three or five minutes in and the duo had begun to descend, paving way for Namorel to really get going.
“It’s now your turn, my good man.” Spoke Golden Pipes.
Noxa was now curious. Just what kind of show was Namorel planning to put up? Did he come here prepared, or was he planning on just experimenting with the music? Whatever he planned to do, the Bio Woman was sure she’d have a blast watching it. A hand moved up, tapping Namorel’s side, giving him an encouraging pat.
"I'm sure you'll do just fine!"
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Vi-Poi
Administrator
Premier of Earth
PL: 434,410
Soul(x40P), Overdrive(x43)
Zeni: 1,247
Tag: @vipoi
Posts: 2,833 
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Post by Vi-Poi on Dec 4, 2016 22:25:05 GMT
@namorel 2668 WC & 2801 Z!
2801 + 9519 = 12,310
@noxa 5045 WC & 5297 PL!
5297 + 223850 = 229,147
Adding.
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