On Approach

March 27, 2012 in RP by Hibiki

The VTOL dipped beneath the thick cloud layer, breaking through from a star lit night into a hell of smoke and pollution.  Beneath the aircraft lay the city Hangars Liquides, a sight that gave him as much comfort as concern.  The lights of the city were more of a dull glow than the bright lances of the more polished parts of the world.  He could smell the pollution in the air, felt his scrubbers come online to tackle the extra work of cleaning it out of his blood solution.  His eyes zoomed in on neon signs, twisting networks of curved streets.  The progress that had been made since the famous fall of the city sat atop the ruins and made a sort of strange melange of architecture.  He imagined a lot of people had gotten lost in the dark corners of the city, some of them probably forever.

“This is it, Mr. Ochs,” said the captain through the ship’s intercom.  The man at the door, Hibiki Ochs, turned to face the captain: a portly Serbian decked out in militia gear from various armies.   He piloted the VTOL with his arms crossed, a thick interface cable ran from his helmet’s electronics directly into the controls.  Hibiki  spoke to him through the intercom, the words streaming directly over the ship’s local network.

“I see.  And where am I getting dropped off?”

“Outside city limit.  I take VTOL over Hangars for too long, someone thinks maybe they get new VTOL, VTOL gets shot the fuck down.  Not today.”

The ship lurched to the side as it banked in low, dropping at an alarming rate.  Hibiki gripped the handle next to the door even harder, and shut off his internal gyroscope’s many warnings.

“I see,” he said again.

“Man of your talents, Ochs…I’m sure you will be at home in HL,” the captain said, pronouncing the letters as ‘EECH ELLL’.  The VTOL skimmed the waves now, and steady rain was just beginning to fall.

The VTOL came to rest on a small dock outside a partially opened access door.  The dock itself was a speck on the side of a massive city wall, crumbling in places and completely devoid of life. Remnants of the city’s former purpose, Hibiki supposed.

“Okay Ochs…this is you.”

Hibiki hopped off the deck onto the concrete platform.

“Maybe you find my cousin’s neice, Djehan…tell her that Dimitri says ‘go to hell!'”

Hibiki cocked his head to the side, hands in his pockets.  He didn’t have any luggage save for what was on his person at the moment.  He’d left his former home without so much as a word or a look back, and the hard ground of this new adventure felt good under his feet.  Djehan, he repeated in thought, and maybe Lawrence and the Crimsons…all in due time.

“Thanks again, Dimitri.  I owe you one,” Hibiki said with a bow, the wind from the VTOL whipping his hair about his face, over his mask.  He held up a hand to watch as the bulky, roaring aircraft lifted it’s bulky, roaring pilot back into the sky.

“Many more than one, Ochs!  But who is counting?!” Dimitri said with maniacal laughter, taking off into the night.  The signal cut immediately.

Hibiki turned, his now soaking wet duster bathed in blue path lighting along the deck, and walked towards the slightly ajar doors at the end of the dock.  They led into the city, and if there was one thing Hibiki knew how to do well it was make an entrance.  It was time for Hangars Liquides to meet Hibiki Ochs. No longer the high profile magnate he was…now just another cyborg drug dealer, here in a city almost devoid of any laws, with no money, no friends, and nothing but time to turn all that around.