un: dick.anders
I don't know if you keep a database of who's arrived, and where from- but I'm looking for people.
Two of them. A teenage boy and girl.

[And of course- the most identifiable parts of them, the deep purple and bright green hair, would have been shorn down to their natural locks. Fantastic. At least he knows where Kory is- they haven't strayed too far from one another, and there's a small pause- we'll keep trying this polite thing, for now]

She'll answer to Rachel, and he's Gar.
I'd appreciate being notified if you find them.

[Now that he's put out feelers for his missing companions, he's direction his attentions to- acquiring a lay of the land, and then money. It's the one thing that makes everything move, that determines if the right kind of information is going to spill into your ear, if you're going to be invited to the right places at the right times, that helps you continue to figure things out, one little step at a time.

It's readily apparent the moment they're free from the truck, even without the explanations other captives have deemed as helpful, that he's not exactly in Kansas anymore. There's a technology gap he seems to have slept through, or at least- that he's never seen anyone on Earth have access too. One that sits nestled at the bottom of his skull, and the other trapped somewhere in the centre of his chest. That changes how currency is exchanged, how people travel, how they access business and homes. It's enough to know that he's not going to get anywhere fast on foot, on on trying to hack into surveillance cameras.

So he picks the only option that still makes sense to him. The Underground. The places where the lips are loosest for the right amount of cash, for the right amount of 'persuasion'. Where blending in is the easiest, where the darkness is where'd gotten most used to moving in. It also solves his second problem- acquiring easy money.

And it is, easy. He's small and fast compared to most of his opponents, it takes nothing to twist himself out of range, to use the momentum of their swings to flip up and over them. He's taken a few fair hits- earned himself a split lip deep enough that it's likely to scar this time, a bruise blooming high on his collarbone, that had him wheezing- the closest he's actually come to losing, but a lot of the blood splattering his hands and his face isn't his. Some, is from broken bones and some- it becomes immediately apparent, when he wins his next fight by digging his fingers under one man's very obvious, very metal enhancement, sinking into the meat of his forearm, and uses his moment and his considerable, well trained strength to tear it right out. While his opponent is busy howling, it clocks him right across the temple with it, hard as he can.

It's therapeutic, in a way. He sees in them, the same guards that had taken him out of the truck, punch drunk and stumbling. The guards that had strapped him down to a chair and drugged him into seeing the darkest parts of his mind. That had cut into Kory, into Gar- as if they weren't even human. He'd promised to keep them safe, alive, to get them out of this. Promised, he had a handled on it. Instead- he'd only ended up with the same shit, different place. If he can be sure of even that, anymore.

After a moment hovering over the other man, he backs off. Turns back to the edge of the ring like he has every other fight, and reached down to touch hands with a gorgeous woman. To check in, on what she's heard while he's been winning, and to ensure she'd gotten the transfer of credits from the others successfully.

He might be softer with her, but there's definitely something around his eyes that suggests he's the last person you'd want to approach. But if you're here, isn't that exactly the kind of person you want to talk to?]

[ predictably your wild card option!]


( as well, please note i'm the comics dick in game already, so this is literally just for funsies! )