Wayward

[Jason Henderson]

Jason sighed to himself as he stepped off of the ferry ship, and on to the deck of the central orbital station in Alpha Centauri. He'd just arrived from his home with an intent to figure out where to wander next, but from the sound of it there were a lot of choices left to make that he hadn't thought of as yet. Hell, there'd even been some things he hadn't considered until a few hours before his flight (like the need for a jumpsuit on a colonial ferry). All he'd managed to snag in the way of a jumpsuit was a sky blue number from a local shop, and that had been cutting the deadline close. But at least it was comfortable.

Why anyone would need a jumpsuit had been beyond Jason at first, but it became quite apparent that possessing one was a good idea after his neighbor had finished explaining. A jumpsuit wasn't for acceleration. It wasn't for comfort. It wasn't even for style (Jason shuddered at the thought). A jumpsuit was design strictly to protect your actual clothing underneath the jumpsuit, and your skin from harm if you bumped into anything while in zero gravity (a state rather common in the orbital stations of Alpha Centauri, since the colonies there tended to be rather old). Jumpsuit fabric was among the strongest humans had managed to design. That came at the price of them seeming to only come in rather tacky colors.

"I look like I lost a fight with a can of bleach," Jason muttered.

Of course, his mother didn't say that. Mothers never do. However, Jason was pretty sure he saw her smirking at him as he stepped out dressed in his jumpsuit. Humor was a good thing though, so it hadn't hurt him at all. He'd given Lucille (his mother) the obligatory farewell hug, tossed his daybag over a shoulder, and headed for the ferry ship. That was how he now found himself dragging himself hand over hand along the zero gravity corridor to the terminal. Jason had made it into space, and now he had to pick where to go. Part of him was keen on heading for Garnith territory (because he knew they weren't strange to look at), but another...strong part of him was curious to see the Xill or the Ylia. There were stories about the appearance of each, and while they'd shown pictures of the other sapient species in university...well, pictures just weren't the same as the real thing.

"Careful, sir, you're about to enter the terminal. We've a light rotation going, so there will be gravity," cautioned a station employee.

Jason nodded to the man, and looked ahead. Someone walked, not floated, but walked by the opening. Jason hurried forward, and stumbled as the pull of artificial gravity asserted itself. He managed to keep on his feet. Down the hall he could hear a speaker advising new arrivals to check the departure times for their passenger ships, and adding that there was a five minute wait time to purchase passage to any location. With a grin more at home on the face of an exploring boy, Jason headed down the passage.

[Dante]

Dante had one hell of a night. He hadn't been to Alpha Centauri in about seven months, but when a fight called, he ran. Or rather... flew. It wasn't th e money, never was. Dante had always had enough money to live his life and to get a few cool things along the way, but that was never what the fighting was about... it was the thrill, the rush, the total control and domination that came with it. And most of all, tat feeling of self worth when it was all done. Last night's fight held all of that. The man he was up against, Bruno Gordo, was quite well known among the fighting leagues, both boxing and mixed martial arts. He was a big name, and one that Dante wasn't going to pass up... fame and power, they were both on Pride's agenda.

The fight had been stellar, both fighters giving their all. In the end, Dante had won by a fair margin, as he knew he would. His sheer size, power, and determination was enough to grant him almost every victory. However, he was feeling it in the morning, and even more so as he waited for the next shuttle back to Terra. He knew that the gravity fluctuation would do a number on his body, and the thought alone made him sigh multiple times. His jumpsuit was halfway on, tied around his waist. He heard the shuttles arrival, and went to stand. However, his body decided that this was going to take a great amount of effort, and endurance of pain, and so he sat back down. "Well, maybe I'll just catch the next shuttle..." he said to himself as the passengers exited the shuttle and walked into the station.

And that's exactly what he did. He had no intentions of moving now. His body needed at least another half an hour before he would be ready to move around at will. His face was bruised and so were his ribs. He exhaled heavily, holding his side and remembering the night before.

"Ladies and gentlemen... Dante Pride" the announcer had called and the fans had cheered. He was respected and known among the regular fans of the amateur boxing leagues, and they all liked him. He was an honest fighter who always gave his best. He drifted into sleep without even realizing it. It was him in the ring with big Bruno... they were going at it... two jabs with the left, followed by a right hook... Bruno stumbled... and then came back. He was hammering away, and Dante was blocking most of it... then a right jab got by... WHAM! right in the eye! Dante awoke with a start. Very little time had passed... there were still a few exiting to the station. He was covered in sweat... "Damn... he thought to himself, That guy was really worth the ride out here...

[Ren Li]

Stepping off the automatic walkway, Ren’s heels clicked sharply and immediately was downed out by the dull roar of the space station. The even flow of traffic behind him didn’t cease even as the tall woman paused to take in the new environment. Someone bumped him from behind, murmured an apologetic sorry ma’am and continued on. Quickly taking to the closest wall, Ren wrapped slender fingers around the strap of his bag he had over his shoulder and shifted the bruising weight. Inside he had managed to fold his previous and frivolous choice of clothing, a simple but long blue dress, and changed into the spare white blouse that hung loosely around his shoulders with a wide neck, black palazzo pants and red pumps. Over this, he had been instructed to done a ghastly jump suit that looked to too many shades of… brown perhaps with yellow overtones? It was best not to think too hard on what it reminded him off.

Despite everyone else wearing the jumpsuits, Ren fidgeted with the zipper, the rhythmic click somewhat comforting until it got stuck and no amount of pleading would get it to zip back up. That, however, was the least of his worries. Somewhere between his ship and the next his luggage had been lost. But lost wasn’t the word the attendants had said, rather temporarily misplaced. Then temporarily misplaced became accidentally on a side trip to the Garnith Territories. Patience was a virtue well learned but even his was beginning to wear just a little thin. There were many precious and expensive articles of clothing, his makeup, even his favorite wig. The only thing that had been salvaged was his carry on bag and that only held a few essentials. Ren sighed blowing at a strand of hair from his mouth and attempted to look at the bright side of things. He had money and his belongings would be redirected to the location of his choosing and his hair was actually behaving that day. Keeping it down wouldn’t have been a swift decision and thus the large bun he had managed it twist it up it was staying with the aid of a few strategically placed pins and the lavender comb tucked neatly into the side. A single golden butterfly clasped the back of the bun with its wings folded slightly around it as decoration.

Folding his arms loosely, he chewed on the edge of thumb thoughtfully before giving one more purposeful tug on the stubborn zipper that seemed intent at remaining just above his navel. Well, he thought. If something didn’t happen this trip would be boring. A part of him was still giddy about up and leaving, he had left behind many disappointed faces and broken hearts but after his last client had decided he needed to rough Madam Butterfly up to prove just how big of a man he was, Ren decided enough was enough. The light makeup didn’t nearly cover the black eye well enough for his liking, but it would have too do. The hand print bruising on his upper thigh and right arm would take time to dissipate but clothing hid that just fine. Pulling a small compact mirror from his bag, Ren reapplied a little lipstick fixing the smudge no one but him would really notice. Perfection was an art form that could never truly be mastered but it was worth the struggle. Through the small mirror, seating opened up along the docking bay of a shuttle and the thought of resting tired feet was too good to pass up.

Snapping the mirror shut, Ren held his bag tightly and slipped into the crowd to sprinted across the open area towards the free seat. He was rather proud he could do in heels without looking awkward. Just as he reached the seating a heavyset man settled his frame into the last spot, leaving the courtesan to glare fruitlessly at his broad back. He had spent the majority of the early and late morning on the space station in lieu of his luggage and heels were only comfortable for so long, no matter what gender you were. Just as he thought he was destined to give up and find a bar to drown his simple woes another seat came into view. This one wasn’t going to get away without a fight. Walking quickly, Ren paused as the only other occupant of the seating was young man who seemed to be sleeping. He contemplated actually sitting next to the stranger as he made his way closer and nearly jumped when the man awoke suddenly. Quickly getting over his brief startle, Ren contemplated finding another place but it seemed just as fast, seats were disappearing as another shuttle released her cargo of passengers.

“Excuse me sir.” His voice was soft, tottering on fragile though a timbre deeper then expected from the androgynous figure. Blue eyes drifted momentarily to the glow of sweat upon his brow before centering on the man’s gaze. “Is this seat taken?”

[Jason Henderson]

The unexpected stumble Jason had experienced only seconds before was repeated by another passenger as Jason traveled down the corridor. However, the second stumbler didn't manage to stay on his feet (Jason knew it was a man by the words that followed the sounds of someone hitting their head against the wall). The muted conciliatory muttering of a station employee faded away as Jason entered a waiting area. The collective roar of life drowned out anything else that might have been trying to be heard. It was so unlike the bar at home. A soft murmur lived in bars. It was made of the lives of friends, the mundane news of life, and had just a drop of lovers meeting. Such bars had a sound one could drink in like a fine wine. The current waiting room was the five dollar cat piss you'd buy at some hole in the wall simply to try and batter your brain into submission after a bad day. Jason did not approve of it.

He left the waiting room behind as he crossed into another connecting corridor. As Jason walked, he considered his options. Terra was off the list immediately. His mother had described the entire planet as being in a perpetual pissing contest with itself, and equally fond of drinking its own piss. It didn't sound like an attractive place to try and set up a bar. It had taken years for Jason to realize that what his mother had actually been saying was that the people of the planet (men and women alike) had locked themselves in an eternal "Mine's bigger." Either way, no bar there...ever. The Garnith Territories seemed like an interesting place to go though (as he'd thought earlier in the day). They had their own fruits and consequently their own alcohols.

Alcohol is always the first invention, Jason mused.

There was also a fruit drink people would kill for there, or so he rumors went. The Xill, on the other hand, weren't big drinkers. They really weren't much of anything beyond tinkerers as near as Jason could tell. They did engage in philosophy (one of his courses in university had been xenophilosophy), but some of the differences were more hair splitting than humans had managed. They didn't strike Jason as the kind to go relax in a bar after a long discussion. Not having mouths put a bit of a dampener on drinking anyway. And the Ylia...well, they lived in space. Jason couldn't very well set up a bar among them. They ate gases for goodness sake. Supposedly, the gas could be bubbled through a drink to flavor it for them, but he'd never actually seen it done.

The next waiting room intruded on Jason's thoughts with its relative quiet. There were very few people in it, and one of them had just vacated a seat across from a sweaty looking fellow with a...person standing over him trying to ask something 9or at least Jason supposed that was what was going on. There was also a ticket area on one of the walls. Thinking here didn't seem like it would be all that hard, and once Jason made up his mind he could go buy a ticket and be gone in an hour. Jason began to make his way over to the seat opposite of the two, still wearing his cheerful grin. It wasn't every day you got to decide to travel to another galaxy after all.

[Dante]

The fighter was currently lost in a world of his own. He wasn’t much paying attention to the people around him now, but more so on the small details that were wrong right now instead. For instance, the fact that his body ached. This had several consequences: resting for a few days; which meant no working out or going places, no fighting for a while; which meant, though he didn’t really care about money, he’d need to survive on a little less food and drink… a drink, that was another thing that he was in dire need for; and the worst of all, the intoxicating need for a cigarette. There was obviously no smoking on the shuttles, and that also went for the waiting stations that were in place as well. Of course, he could leave and go outside to smoke, this was perfectly allowed. However, that meant getting up, and as his body had stated earlier, it was quite clearly not ready to do that.

In the end, the overwhelming need for a smoke drove Dante to find the energy to strand. He relaxed his muscles for a minute, then started to shift his weight forward before…

“Excuse me sir.”

He looked up. And there stood a very pretty young woman. Long black hair, elegantly dressed, from head to toe, even the makeup seemed to imply that she was among the :rich” crowd. So why then, was she talking to Dante? It didn’t really matter to him… when a pretty girl talks, Dante listens… this is a simple mathematical equation in the life of Dante Pride, and one that will always have the same results regardless of the circumstances. A small smile shot across his face, and thoughts ran through his mind.

Wanna come over to my place?

Dante was crude, no doubt about it, but he was at least going to listen to what she had to say before he started hitting on her. It was his small code of ethics.

“Is this seat taken?”

Another smile, this one bigger than the last. “Of course it isn’t.” he said with a grin, ”But even if it was, I’d give up my seat for a maiden as fair as yourself.” this was, of course, said in play.

He shifted over to give her a little more room, hearing his back pop as he lifted his bag to move it as well. ”Damn…” he muttered as he repositioned himself and cracked his neck. ”So… what’s a pretty girl like you doin’ walkin’ around this awful place all by yourself?”

[Ren Li]

Leaning back on his heels, Ren shifted his weight on the foot behind him in hesitancy of interrupting the young man. Perhaps it wasn’t a good idea to sit next the feller that looked as though he had the stuffing beaten out of him. The slightly swollen black eye he sported only made the courtesan lifted a hand to his face and carefully brushed the curve of his index finger along the bottom lid of his eye in the pretense of wiping away a smudge of dirt. It was tender but the majority of the swelling had already gone down. The smile that broke across the stern man’s face drew Ren back to the angular plane of his cheeks and he returned it with a curve of his lips.

The sociable flattering was not lost on the man and Ren’s smile blossomed graciously to reveal the barest hint of teeth. With a grateful look he slipped into the free seat in one fluid motion, his hip brushing against the strangers in a purposeful mistake before scooting a little bit to keep a respectful distance. Setting his bag on the floor beside his feet to free his hands and nonchalantly placed one on the edge of the man’s knee in a offhand moment.

“Thank you.”

It was a simple expression of appreciation but the melodramatic influx of his light voice made it sound as though the seat was made of pure gold. For all intent purposes it was, shinning like a ray of hope for cramped toes and aching heels. The hand on the man’s knee was meant to be light and quick and perhaps it had strayed a second too longer but Ren ate up the personal contact and enjoyed it. It wasn’t like being jostled around with other people all being herded into one direction or another like cattle or the overly cheerful and false voice of the space station attendants.

Ren tugged a bit on the shoulders of the ill fitting jumpsuit and crossed his legs before sighing appreciatively at finally sitting down. The slightly audible curse made a slim brow lift in awareness and again he took in the shambled look of the man as he spoke. Now closer, he could just make the odd little scar on his ear nearly hidden by the mass of dark hair. Ren ran two fingers across his chin in thoughtful gesture, narrowly avoiding smearing the pale lipstick. A stretch of the truth seemed in order. “I suppose… I’m doing the proverbial running away from home,” he replied lightheartedly, smiling. “but I probably shouldn’t be telling a complete stranger that.”

Perhaps he was a bit of a nosy body or the fact that the young man was intently staring at him, Ren shifted his gaze to the people that wandered by. Funny how every walk of life, human and non mingled together on one plane of existence. Blue eyes landed on a particular tall and large man, it was his sheer height that had caught the courtesan’s eye coupled with the dazzling smile that adorned his features. It such a jovial look that Ren found himself smiling back.

[Jason Henderson]

The...person had noticed Jason as he'd been weaving through the crowds, and returned the smile. Now that he was closer to "her" he had a clearer idea of the person. It seemed like a man who was transitioning, but had yet to quite go all the way with surgery and reconfiguration. They'd talked about such people in one of his early psychology classes, and some in biology. Medical technology was capable of completely reconfiguring either sex into the other now, but the genes stayed the same. The converts were always infertile too. Jason shrugged; it was an inward gesture, and not one of dismissal, but rather...it was a bartender shrug. An "it takes all kinds" and "I like all kinds as long as they're fun" kind of shrug, but it was for him more than anything. If he was right, and she was transitioning then he'd think of her as a she.

Prof. Anderson would approve, heh, he went from wearing dresses to wearing suits over a year, Jason thought, As long as people are happy. Happy people make for good company.

Jason reached the empty seat, and smiled broadly again at the woman and the sweaty guy. She'd sat down by now. The guy appeared to be in the process of chatting her up too. At least he seemed to be able to keep his hands to himself. Jason rolled his eyes inwardly at the thought of some of the antics hi sexual friends had gotten into during their college years. Thank goodness for modern medicine. Okay, so they would have survived without it, but their pride might not have several times. The whole notion of some of the things they had done was wildly beyond Jason. But then again, even the basic notion was beyond him. He reached up and rubbed the small scar over his eye. His smile took on a weary aspect for the barest moment before he let his hand fall back to his lap.

Love is a funny thing. Weirder still when the two parts are across a divide.

"Hello," Jason called out cheerfully to the two, and adding a wave for good measure, "And how are my fellow would-be escapees from this dusty corner of the galaxy?"

[Dante]

Running from home. Dante had never even considered the idea, even when things were at their worst. In hindsight, it might have been better for him... maybe he'd be making more money and at something safer to boot. Maybe his father would have cleared up his act, started anew, rekindled his lost love, and Dante would return to a happy family. There were two simple facts that Dante lived by, however,t hat made this a moot point: First off, Dante never lived in the past. What was done was done... not that he believed that there was a reason for everything, in fact, he didn't think that at all, it was simply that thinking about how things could have gone never changed how they went... the past was named as such for a reason. And number two, he loved his life. Sure, his dad was gone, and sure his mom was somewhat unhappy without him, but she was still alive and well... Dante loved to fight; he met new people and had new experiences... he was who he was today because of what had happened. Looking back at it all, though it sounded strange even to the boxer, he wouldn't have changed a single thing.

That raised another question, and one that he both asked and answered himself. He wasn't sure if his answer was correct, but it seemed viable... it was her face, and more specifically what was there that didn't belong. That bruise that she had tried to cover up. Actually, she had done a stellar job at it... it wasn't noticeable to the untrained eye... however, her running away coupled with Dante's knowledge of bruises and swelling made it more than obvious. He had been hit probably over a thousand times in his entire life, both by his father and people in the boxing league, so needless to say he knew what a punch looked like. This had that look, and in a conveniently obvious spot at that. Honestly, it looked a little more like a cuffed slap, but a hard one none the less, one that Dante wouldn't want to be on the other end of. This, he assumed, was the reason for her leaving. It was hard to say though... she had covered it so well... This isn't the first time... Dante thought to himself. In fact, I'd wager that it's happened quite a few times before this... I wonder...

"Runnin' away from home huh... that takes two things I'd guess... guts and a good reason... I can tell you got the first... but I'd like to know more about the second..."

There was barely time to finish the question as a passenger across from them spoke up. It was loud enough, and that wave was direct enough, to ensure Dante that it was to them. He smile... this was the reason he fought... he would never have been here, and would never have met either of them. This one in particular, seemed to have a good vibe about him... happy, jovial, if you will... and how he spoke showed that he was used to people... Dante like him already. "Unfortunately, I was headed to Terra... even shittier than this place, as I'm sure ya' know. Escape would be sweet though... takes more cash than I got... what about yourself... where you headed?"