"No secret handshakes? Just in like that? Okay then." So saying, Zhouth strolled right in as if he was visiting a teahouse on Capital rather than a hive of scum and villainy amidst a hive of scum and villainy.

And to the door-minder, or then nearest staff-looking member, he stopped and grunted, "Stitch in? Trevor the Pool Champ recommended him." There was something subtly different about his voice. Grimmer, certainly, but not so much holding an edge as simply rendered flat.

In reply to StarMaster (msg # 81):

[The Undercity, Planet Theev]


     Varca turns his helmeted head towards Zhouth for a moment, then returns his gaze to watching the street, as they progress down it,

      "Y'know ..." Varca's voice calmly buzzes from his helmet speaker, "Zhouth's little comment, there, fills me with a great sense of pride in the survivalist nature of my Vespexer heritage ... And yet ... I somehow also feel as if I am the victim of a back-handed insult ..."

     Varca, again, turns his gaze upon Zhouth,

     "Do be a Good Boy, and remind me to shoot you later, won't you, Zhouth...?"


       As they walk through the Undercity, though he is carefully watching their surroundings for signs of trouble, Varca is still able to assess the environment, as he passes through it,

      "This place may not hold a glowrod to any of the Promenades on the Floating Palace ..." Varca observes, gesturing around at the depressing scenery, "... But it's not so bad ... The streets aren't radioactive, after all ..."

Prior...

Zhouth momentarily stopped in his tracks at Varca's offense-taken, though his body language implied that this was due to surprise rather than fear.

"How was that an insult? You went through all of that and survived it! Shouldn't that be impressive? I mean, there are rougher options out there - you don't want to think about early life as a Hiver, or how Droyne deal with personal mistakes or with surplus individuals - but still!"

Back to present...
This message was last edited by the player at 07:09, Tue 21 Dec 2021.

It isn't until you enter the building that it sinks in that you didn't see any Black Widows down here in Undercity.

The room you step into is dimly lit, but not so dim that you can't see the three people in the room. One looks like a typical bouncer--almost as wide as he is tall, which is about 6'. He's dressed in gray shorts and muscle tee that makes sure you can tell he's all muscle.

Then there's the armored person. He (or she--you can't really tell) is dressed in armor that looks a lot like Rayjay's other than it is clearly piecemeal, though that mean it isn't just as effective. Under different circumstances, the armor would like stupid, but here, it seems more sinister. He's carrying a plasma gun like BB.

The third person is a woman dressed in a revealing outfit that's probably made of shimmereen. She doesn't look unattractive but has seen better days.

"This isn't a social club. The only name in here is Credits," she responds to Zhouth. "What's your flavor? If you can afford it, we got a room for you."

Zhouth slowly held up one hand to about his chest level and looked down at it, rubbing the tips of his thumb and forefinger (or at least the enclosing glove segments) slowly around one another in a lazy circle. Three full circuits were completed before he spoke, and they kept right on going as he did.

"What's his? Will buy him a round or two if he's here to talk business, and get something for me while I'm at it; or while I wait, if he's coming soon. If he's not, or you can't say?" His hand slowly fell back to his side as he shrugged, a hint of disappointment and fatigue creeping in. "Fair, but I can't stay just for pleasure right now, unfortunately."
This message was last edited by the player at 15:11, Fri 24 Dec 2021.

In reply to Zhouth (msg # 86):

     As Zhouth asks after Stitch the Info-Merchant, Varca is standing to Zhouth's left -- in a casual stance ... his booted feet spaced shoulder-width apart ... gloved hands clasped waist-high, in front of himself ... and his opaqued faceplate clearly pointed straight at the armored figure holding the plasma gun ...

"Oh." the woman responds, obviously surprised at Zhouth's words.

"Stitch's preference is anything he can afford. He's currently doing blisswhiff, but does dreamdust and guillotine when he can afford it. He prefers edge, though."

"Blisswhiff is 10, dreamdust is 20, guillotine is 140, and edge is 600."

"Well, if he's not choosy, then how about one of each? The more I like what he has to say, the better he gets, and anything that he doesn't?" His signature slow, expansive shrug punctuated the delivery before he produced a handful of credit chips - just enough 100s to cover the cost. "Well, I'm sure that I can find a use for it!"
This message was last edited by the player at 18:29, Fri 24 Dec 2021.

Zhouth has just made a friend for life!

"I'm Euthanasia. Braindimming is my place," the woman says. "Would your friends like something?"

Zhouth doesn't exactly pick up any innuendos but he's pretty sure that she doesn't care if you kill Stitch as you've paid for the clean-up, at least.

She leads you down a maze of hallways to one of a dozen unmarked doors.

"You've got an hour. Stitch can stay as long as he wants."

She then walks away.

"I'm Euthanasia. Braindimming is my place," the woman says. "Would your friends like something?"

"Up to them! They tend to be all-business types, but maybe they'll surprise me." Somehow Zhouth sounded a little bit mischievous in saying that...



She leads you down a maze of hallways to one of a dozen unmarked doors.

"You've got an hour. Stitch can stay as long as he wants."

"Works for me."




Zhouth taps lightly on the door once Euthanasia has departed, and calls out quietly a moment later - enough to be heard from inside without disturbing anyone else - "Stitch? Got a present from the front desk for you! Another round of Bliss, all yours."

The dose of Bliss in question was waiting in Zhouth's upturned palm, with the other three packets resting very visibly in cost-sequence just behind in the other - very hard for anyone to miss unless they were blind as well as dopey.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:46, Fri 24 Dec 2021.

In reply to Zhouth (msg # 91):

     Varca makes no response to the offer of recreational pharmaceuticals -- either by voice or body movement -- he just keeps silently staring at the fusion gunner.

     When the Hostess moves to lead the group deeper into her establishment, Varca falls in behind Zhouth -- after first giving a slight, respectful nod towards the guy with the fusion gun.

     Once Euthanasia has led us to an unmarked door -- implying we'd find Stich beyond it -- and walked away, Varca moves to stand next to the wall, off to the side off the door -- to Zhouth's left.  There he can grab Zhouth and either pull him, or push him, out of the way, should anything other than a Bliss-addled Info-Merchant open that door...

Ingrid is a little shocked by, well, everything there from the way the woman is dressed to the offer. "Nothing for me, thank you" she manages to get out. No need to lose her manners.

Zhouth has to wait a few minutes (that seems like weeks...) before there's the sound of movement beyond the door, and a few seconds later, you hear the lock on the door disengage and it cracks open a bit.

"Whassat? Whoer you? Got bliss? Well, come on in," the bleary-eyed man says as he flings the door open while reaching eagerly for the bliss Zhouth is holding.

You see a young man with blond hair and bloodshot brown eyes. He seems a bit unsteady on his feet, and his grab for the bliss misses the first time. His clothes aren't ratty but they've clearly seen better days, and could probably stand a good cleaning.

"Here you go!" Zhouth exclaimed cheerfully as he stepped into the room, to one side of the door, and held forth the Bliss, doing his best to position it where the man's hands could actually connect with the package. "That Bliss is on the house, but I've got a few other things here too, if you feel up to something stronger - Dreamdust, Guillotine, maybe even some Edge?"

"They're not really meant for giveaway, but if you're as good at spotting things as Trevor says you are?" A not quite so exaggerated shrug, one that kept his package-bearing arm securely in place even as the other maneuvered a bit, punctuated the brief space between his words. "Well, I think I can part with the next one up for a little bit of useful information, if you feel up to it. And the one after that for more. And the one after that for a lot..."
This message was last edited by the player at 20:43, Wed 05 Jan 2022.

For a moment, when he takes the Bliss from Zhouth, it looks like he's going to inhale it right away, but, in spite of already being high, he still seems to have enough presence to hold off on it.

"'Fo? Yeah, got 'fo," he replies. "Only thing around here that's got any value."

He eyes Zhouth's hand speculatively for a moment.

"Whatcha wanna know?" His eyes managed to focus on you for a moment, instead of staring off into space at something only he can see. "Wait. You're off that new ship in port... the Voltron... and you're looking for Redthane. Well, he ain't on planet no more. No one's sayin' where. Best guess is he's in the Palindrome system. Admiral chased his sorry ass off Theev. Probably did him a favor. Ain't been able to find out why, if that's what you want."

"His second's here. Silverhand. She's tryin' ta get some other caps on Red's side so he can come back. He's better off wherever he is. Silver's holed up in the Scrap Heap. Now she's somewhere in the Intimidator, but she moves around a lot. She was in the Repulse last week and the Dragon week before that."

"So far, she's being staying under Darokin's radar. Don't matter. Admiral don't give a rat's ass about her."

He's not so wasted yet that he doesn't anticipate getting Zhouth's drugs for his info.

Zhouth's cheerful tone remained as he shifted two of the three packets to his other hand and held them out. "That helps!" The third one received a slight juggle in place in his other hand, not yet held out, but clearly ready to be. "Two questions: directions to the Intimidator, for those who aren't local, and is she on her own down there?"

"On her own? Sometimes. Sometimes she's got her crew with her," Stitch answers.

"Scrapheap's on the outside of Upper City though the Uppers think it's downside. Intimidator is one of the early ships that started the Heap. An old Military Cruiser. Don't know where or on what deck she's on. I ever got that close you'd be talking to a corpse."

"Go around north. Look for the half of a lab ship ring. Go through there past the Fat Trader and the S-Merchant. The wall will be the Cruiser."

"She's the sort that doesn't talk to strangers except with bullets, huh? Always has to be one of those somewhere," Zhouth sighed wearily, then transferred the third package to his outstretched hand, the hidden-in-helmet smile returning to his words. "Okay. Only other thing I have: no talking about this." He bounced his packet-holding hand ever so slightly. "Discretion is good for future generosity, you know?"

All three extra packets were Stitch's to take. Generosity was very much the present mood as well!
This message was last edited by the player at 05:08, Wed 12 Jan 2022.

In reply to Zhouth (msg # 99):

^{COMM START >>>} "We got the info we're looking for, Zhouth." Varca says over comms, "Where we're likely to find Silverhand.  Either Viridian or Krrsh can get us to where we gotta go.  Let's head back to the others." ^{<<< COMM END}

     Varca turns in place--hesitating, as if he's expecting Zouth and the others to head out of the room, ahead of him...

Zhouth stepped out of the room once Stitch had taken the packages, stopping just outside, where he half-turned and held it for Varca.

In reply to Zhouth (msg # 101):

     Varca waits to follow the last of his companions out of the small room--but then stops just before going through the door and turns back to look at Stitch, activating his helmet speaker at a low (but not whispering!) level.

     "The name of the ship is Vultan, Stitch.  Vultan.  Not Voltron." Varca growls lowly, "Captained by an ex-Imperial Navy Officer named McFarlane.  Get it right, Stitch.  Captain-the-Baron Theodore McFarlane."

     Varca then turns and stalks away.

The room was only 6-feet deep and 8-feet wide... just large enough to hold a cheap bed against the 8-foot wall. There were no other furnishings. A single array of LED lights in the ceiling illuminated the room. Someone had actually attempted to paint a mural on the back wall behind the bed. It wasn't bad if a bit crude and it was only about 3/4 done. However, it was marred by a lot of graffiti, as were the other walls.

Some of the earlier graffiti still shows through from an effort to re-paint the walls.

There was room for only 3 people in there, unless a fourth was in the bed, so BB, Krssh and Ingrid had remained out in the hall.

"Yeah, yeah, on the QT," Stitch answers. "The name's Stitch not Snitch. Voltron--Vultron... whatever. It ain't the Victorious so no one's going to get them mixed up."

"You're still Nobodies so no one's gonna give a skrang's ass about you. Except me. You pay well. I like your style. If I learn anything more, I'll let you know."


Zhouth has no problem interpreting this as meaning he's slave to the credit, even if he doesn't think of himself that way. If someone offers him enough credits, he'll sell his mother to them... if he hasn't already. On the other hand, Zhouth's assessment also lets him know that you could never torture info out of Stitch. He spends too much time in Dreamland when he's conscious so that's where he'd escape to under torture. And, of course, torture is unreliable anyway. The person being tortured will tell you what you want to hear whether it's the truth or not, and if he doesn't know to begin with, the torturer is seldom willing to accept that.

Not that Zhouth has any interest in rehabilitating Stitch, but he does realize that, under different circumstances, Stitch would be a valuable crew member or possible ally. He's just a victim of this world, like most of its inhabitants. He survives the only way he knows how.

Zhouth also realizes that Stitch is a reasonably educated person. He's able to tell what's valuable intel and what's not. As he explained, Silverhand would kill him on sight if she thought he'd said something he shouldn't have. That means there's no way she'd ever pay him for info. And right now, she's the only person on the planet (as far as you or Stitch know) that would have any interest in the info he now has.

Zhouth gave a cheerful wave and a quiet, "All done! He's fine." to Euthanasia on their way out. Only once they were well clear of the building and of other people did he start to speak again.

"Okay, we know where to poke about, and we'd better do it quickly before anything changes. I'd say now, but if the others are done with their wanderings, maybe we could call them to join up with us just before we get there?" Walking fingers that made an abrupt ninety-degree turn served as illustration.

"Then there's the strategy part. Big Bertha likes to shoot, and likes to do it first, but we won't get much information if we win by shooting back. And, well, she might hit some of us in the meantime." His tone clearly indicated that did not like that idea, though this didn't stop him from accompanying it with a gun-fire hand gesture. "If we can get close enough to talk first? I'd rather try recruitment than permanent retirement, you know? I don't think we'll manage that if all of us march up at once, though."
This message was lightly edited by the player at 19:43, Sat 15 Jan 2022.

In reply to Zhouth (msg # 104):

     "Well, yeah, we want to get Silverhand to talk to us -- whether we recruit her, pay her, or torture her -- we need her to tell us where Redthane is." Varca says via speaker,

     "And while I agree with you, Zhouth, that going after her sooner rather than later would be best, I got the impression from what Stitch said that the word has already gotten out that we are here looking for Redthane -- so it's probable that Silverhand already knows about us.  But ... I don't think that means she's gonna run, yet.  She's here to do a job for Redthane, and I don't think she's accomplished that, yet."

     "And something else that Stitch said ... he said that Silverhand's hiding out alone in that wrecked ship, in the Scrap Heap, and that her Crew sometimes visits her ... that might mean that she doesn't have quick access to her ship.  Like, it's hidden -- out in the desert, or up in a far orbit, or something--it's laying low, while she runs around trying to make a deal for Redthane."

     "So, I don't think that Silverhand will be leaving the planet anytime soon--I hope--but we gotta assume she knows we're here, and that we're looking for her, and that means she'll be ready for us, when we do catch up with her.  But I'm willing to bet that we have time to get back with the others, see what they've found out, and then come up with a plan to catch Silverhand, rather than just racing off after her, right now."

     "Who knows ..." Varca adds with a chuckle, "Maybe me dropping Theo's name into Stitch's ear will pay off, and we get a call from his old Admiral-Buddy, sometime soon.  But for now, let's just get back with everyone, compare notes -- then have Viridian and Krrsh tell us all about this Scrap Heap place..."

"Well, okay then," Zhouth shrugged - this time, not an exaggerated one. "Just remember that if her crew shows up to visit her in the meantime, and she knows that we're looking, they'll probably stay there to help prepare a welcoming party."


Cue a group re-merge, at last!