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The giant feline nodded his head slowly, those large pink orbs straying not from Mel’s eyes as she spoke with him. He disliked disrespect and he refused to show that to his superiors, giving them, at least, the respect they deserved. The paw on the floor curled for a moment, pressing just his knuckles against it, cracking the joints as he pushed down a bit with his weight. Her smile brought a bit of a smile to his own muzzle, though it was hard for one of his race to do so when they didn’t truly have lips.

“All right. I just wanted to ensure that everything was rated for my weight. I had a few bunks shatter under me in ships I was bounced to. It’s why I refrain from sitting, too. I rather dislike wounds on my rump and if you could see the flesh under the fur, I’ve got more scars back there because of breaking things under me than most people have on their bodies from fighting. But thank you…and I just haven’t eaten today. Even killers like me get nervous…I just don’t like meetings. Meetings were always where I got bounced to another ship when the ship I was on got tired of me, or to another company entirely. Of course you know all that. It’s how I got here, after all. I’ll do better now, get measured for my armor. For now, though…I need to make up for what I didn’t eat earlier. Thank you again, Mel.”

When shaking her hand with his paw, he was careful not to put too much pressure on her hand, knowing humans were far more fragile than his race. With a slow nod and a quick grunt, he pushed up from the floor, turning away to plod back towards the eating area. His footsteps sounded heavily off the floor and echoed off the walls, his paws smoothing down the kilt he wore. He refused outright to call it a skirt, for a skirt was what females wore and he was far from that.

He took little time in reaching the mess so that he could get his food and eat, the Gigant having to force his way through a throng of smaller beings. It was one of few times that he had actually used his size to his advantage, putting to use his size and appearance just as Mel had told him to do, even if the action was minor. None of the smaller beings said a word, a bit too intimidated by Credo’s size to say anything. There were many who would be a bit too afraid of the giant to say anything when he weighed four, if not five times more than most at almost half a ton.

The Gigant took his time in sating himself after getting his food, eating slow and ensuring he didn’t choke himself with the large bites he took. His eyes roved the company he was in at the moment, a diverse mix of races, most of them staring back at him, as well. When done, he raised himself slowly from where he had settled down, depositing his things into the areas set for them and then turning for his home, or at least the room he called home. The trip through the halls proved to be somewhat unexciting aside from the slight scuffle of two smaller beings he took the time to break up.

Arriving back in his room, he bunked down for the night, forgoing a shower, as he didn’t feel like taking down his braids to ensure they got clean. He pulled the blanket up over his torso, though it was not fully large enough to cover all of him. Though he had been given larger ones by the company, this one had been with him for a while and he considered it good luck. It didn’t take long for him to drift off into sleep, sleeping a somewhat peaceful, almost dreamless sleep aside from a recurring and very quickly done dream he could never place when he woke up.

Morning came far too quickly for his liking, the Gigant’s body telling him it was time to wake. He snorted just once, turning over, laying on his side for a moment, then two. He didn’t stay that way, however, for he had to get going, not sure of the time, but he relied on his internal clock to guide him. He hated timekeepers…the last one he’d had, he’d broken it when he’d put his hand on it trying to feel for it. With a quiet grunt, he roused himself, starting to gather what little he owned that he was taking. With only a few kilts he’d made himself, the blanket, his slate, and his blade, he packed lightly, slinging the bag over his back to depart.

While he had started off heading to the elevator, he made his way towards the purser instead, for he needed to be measured before he left. Though he didn’t know exactly where to find this purser, he only had to ask around a bit before getting his answer. Making the early morning detour, he arrived early, likely one of the first to arrive there that morning, he dropped his pack. Apparently the purser was experienced with measurements because he was in, measured, and out faster than he had expected. Shrugging, though, the Gigant merely plodded towards the elevators once more, bag thrown over his shoulder, his blade in one hand, ready to head up to the Girdle and find his way towards the ship.

Having left in good order along with the rest of the group, questions that he thought might need answering he left unquestioned, thoughts drifted back and forth through his mind as the rhythmic beating of his tail across the floor as he gave a languid gait towards his rather meandering direction. Varrer's thoughts drifted just as his movements did, his mind pondered over the information he had detailed into his skull of the personnel whom he would have the 'pleasure' of working with, the statistics of the ship. From supplies to the colour scheme, as voracious as his appetite could be for food, it paled in comparison to his thirst for knowledge as he devoured every morsel with utmost glee. As a long lived race, in comparison to humans who were very... very short lived, one must understand the Vinridi often spent most of their years learning.

This learning was aptly described as he eventually found his way to his quarters within the compound of the company, having accommodations within the actual city the company was based within on this planet, but otherwise it was a bit of a home away from home as the door slid shut behind him, his eyes scanned the some what larger than average quarters as they accommodated to his size, collection of miscellanea and otherwise with his time in the company afforded him a slight bit of luxury in comparison to a green blood.

Varrer spent a scant moment checking the time before sitting down into a plump and flexible swivel chair, with ample room near the bottom of the back for his tail to slight through for little discomfort. Confirming the time he saw, ample time prior to the allocated time to leave planet side, he gave some moments to more of his thoughts before giving a guttural and sibilant word in his native tongue. Most of the electronics of the room being voice activated, unwilling to pay more for less in the manner of having to get switches and buttons that wouldn't break under the stress of his hands physical strength.

At the command, a flattened and seemingly clear plasticine sheet descended from a panel in the ceiling of the room on a metal track, at another command it seemed to waver and shimmer momentarily before attaining imagery. The image at current was a revolving K, perhaps the logo of the company whom made it but otherwise disappeared swiftly as he gave yet another command for information from the brief to show up. As he scanned over the information again and again, he gave a slight yawn of boredom rather than tiredness. The amount of times he had seen such information had grown tedious over the past few years, as such he quickly replaced the information with the personnel briefs of the others, keen to know of them and whom he would have to deal with in the confines of the ship. He hoped this assignment wouldn't turn into one where he begged for every moment planet side to be away from the damn crew.

probably an hour passed as he read through the information of the others again and again, searching for quirks and faults of the character he would have to look out for, his fingers tapped together briefly as he read the profile on the one called Jade, the one to of grown offensive to his comment during the brief itself. His reptilian lips lay motionless as he eyed the staff picture, taken on a blank background as had his and everyone else's. He'd have to watch out for her, he wasn't worried over the damage she might cause but more the tension amongst the crew, she seemed like one ill handling of criticism and he expected much of it would have to be dished out to the crew, especially if they were new.

Appeased by his trawling through the files, the monitor slid into the ceiling with his use of it gone, swivelling on his chair for a moment as his eyes rested on the multitude of images stuck on the walls, some artistic representations of events he considered important, others images taken by himself or others. Some obscured by thick piles of objects, as he thought previously; a long living race makes the people of it diversify themselves, books, collections, hobbies. A long life can lead to extensive boredom if one only seeks to master a single point and not a multitude as he has, or so claims.

At that thought though, Varrer decided it would be best to attain some rest as he found neither a need for food nor any kind of consistent prayer, exercise, banter or practice others might spend the moments before a mission doing. Instead he crawled into a large and flexible net like bed, suspended on multiple polls in a square like shape rather than the rectangular ones other humanoid races might use, the reason was quite simple in that the Vinridi race curled into a ball during sleep, a protective and natural process to them that had been hard baked into them during evolution and survival before attaining intelligence enough to arm themselves. Their ridge and back scales forming a tight and protective armor that most foes would find hard to break as his head tucked between his legs, seemingly shrinking in size and noise, the only motion he made afterwards was that he voice activated the alarm by the bed to wake him in time to prepare to move to the launch bay.

---

Of course, the sleep Varrer did get seemed palpably less than he wanted as the alarms klaxon woke him sharply enough as he batted at it with a hand, denting it but otherwise not breaking it. Having several hours ahead to prepare and depart from his room to the elevator to the girdle, and then on to the launch bay. A good portion of this time was spent within the shower system, you see Vinridi often don't need to wash with water, due to the nature of their biological nature they often shed dirty and damaged scales and skin, sadly what can often happen is between the times that one could shed their outer layers a thin line of grime can gather underneath the larger scales and across the skin. Which of course needed to be removed, in a contained area such as a space ship, one cannot afford germs to spread which would otherwise or could otherwise render some of the crew unable to function.

The problem with such things is the nature of getting rid of it, whilst the Vinridi form was flexible, often the parts as such that suffer this build up are not such as the ridge on the back, of course some bright spark had created a tool fit to serve the purpose as he spent a good hour in boiling hot torrents of water scraping and scrubbing it. A quick scan from the system in the shower listed that such build ups were at a safe level and wouldn't build up enough to pose a danger until his next shedding.

With such things under check, Varrer began depositing his equipment, clothing, nick nacks and generally valuables he considered sentimental mainly into a larger than standard issue pack that the mercs generally get given to accommodate for the size of which his clothing, equipment and otherwise objects would be in comparison, finding a large majority of the company was human based as was much of the economic sectors of business. Most things were built to their stature or tailored in such a way it benefited them as a majority, which in turn made some brokers earn that extra credit in consideration of the things larger or smaller races would require as things were custom built to their preference. Varrer was one to of suffered their greed more than once as the dealers failed to stock suitable things for him.

His thoughts dwelling on such things as money, payment and his little trust fund he had set aside for his inevitable retirement in years to come, he blinkered slightly with his internal set of eyelids before his outer ones too closed as he homed in on the assigned elevator for the merc's to use for their travel to the girdle, he hadn't realized his legs had carried him so far while his thoughts had carried him elsewhere. He was also not that surprised though when he saw Credo bundle into the elevator shortly before he got there himself, stepping into the elevator box he quickly eyed over Credo. Credo was new to the business that was certain according to his track record, albeit whilst new he didn't display some of the characteristics of a greenhorn, perhaps it was prior experience, nature of his upbringing or race or any other multitude of reasons. Either way he gave a nod of acknowledgement as he gently nudged Credo on his shoulder for attention.

"Something bothering you Credo? you seem a bit ruffled, or did a human try to pet you?", Varrer gave a grin, or whatever a grin was to his race as the reptilian lipless mouth tightened at the corners somewhat, a tooth flashing in the light of the lift as it did off his clawed fingers as he reached for the button to start the lifts ascent to the girdle. With a shudder, the doors closed and the lift lurched into rapid movement skywards.

Trotting into the elevator and letting his pack drop to hang beside his right leg, Credo lost himself in his thoughts for the moment. His fingers of his left paw moved up and slowly brushed over his messy braids, some thicker and tighter, some of his braids smaller, some strands falling loose from those. Due to the thickness of his mane, he preferred to keep them as such, his claws raking down between the braids to scrape over his scalp. Like most of his race, though he wouldn’t know the fact due to not knowing his own race, he emitted what was a quiet purr for him. Anyone standing near him, though, would be able to feel the rumbling as even the air around him vibrated for the moment, his huge chest amplifying the noise. With his huge pink orbs closed, the giant never saw the other bundle inside until he had gotten a gentle nudge and his nose had picked up his scent.

The Gigant cursed himself for a moment for not paying enough attention, standing just a bit straighter upon sight of the higher-ranking male. Most everyone was of a rank higher than himself and even if they were not of a higher rank, they still had seniority over him with their time spent here. His ears once more raised themselves from his braids, listening with that quiet, respectful nature that he had. When he realized that the other was making a bit of a joke, one side of his muzzle curled upwards for a moment, showing off his gleaming white fangs. It was the best he could do for a smile, shaking his head for just a moment. He slowly lowered his pack down to rest beside his giant foot, resting the hilt of his large blade against his leg. The blade was huge, quite a few humans finding it difficult even to lift, much less wield, though he thought not on that for now. For the moment, he merely looked down the short distance between the two, speaking with that slow and quiet voice he always used.

“I was merely thinking for now. I just always feel so out of place no matter where I go. I’m always so different, always…I feel like I’m not meant to be here. I feel as if things just aren’t meant for me. It’s not that I don’t want to be here. I just feel lost. Of all the companies I’ve been bounced to, though this one is my newest, this is also where I feel I fit in the best and I still feel a bit lost. Everywhere else I’ve run across prejudice and hate…fright. And the world and the things in it…I feel those aren’t meant for me, either. I know I think too much. I’ve been told that’s my problem. That I worry too much. I just don’t like the fact that I can’t have accidents. That much I know.”

He trailed off for a moment, scratching at an itch that had formed itself on his muzzle as he contemplated what next to say. His muzzle opened slowly, a slight crack sounding off in the quiet surrounding them as his jaw cracked. He took a few more moments to think, then nodded his head and pressed on. All the while he spoke, his hands moved down to readjust his bag at his side and work with his pack. His eyes darted just once to the pack of his companion, noting from the way that it bulged in places that he possessed quite a bit more than Credo himself. The Gigant possessed very little, for he had not been paid well before and had very little money as it was.

“Humans…they have accidents, someone gets hurt, it’s fine. Me…look at me. If I have an accident…I’ll kill someone. I already have, actually. It’s why I’m here. That’s not what my file says, as my old employer lied. He didn’t want to make it seem as if it was the fault of his men. It sounds stupid now, but…there were a few humans who enjoyed picking on me because I don’t like conflict all the time. It’s why I enjoy playing stupid. I know you know I’m not stupid. But most left me alone because they thought me simple. A few didn’t, though, and one day, things got out of hand. I was in the cargo bay, doing my job and in they came. I went about my business, trying to ignore them, and one didn’t take it well. He was hotheaded, like that female from the meeting. He tried to fight with me or I think he did. I can’t remember all the details. It’s a bit hazy…knocked my head off one of the containers, left a big dent in it, so that attributes to the haze. All I can remember is falling and then getting back up a few minutes later. From what I got from people who saw it, I fell on him. Needless to say, with nine hundred and eighty seven pounds of falling me and one hundred and ninety pounds of him…there was no walking away from it. He died, they wanted to get rid of me, so they put down a few behavioural problems, nothing that would seriously affect a transfer, on my record and gave me up to the first company that was close enough to take me quickly. Now I’m here. I’ll…I’ll be quiet now. I know I talk too much sometimes. I’m sorry.”

His large head bowed for just a moment, feeling as if he had spoken for too long, which was not uncommon for the huge feline. Though he was quiet, he talked quite a bit when he actually was coaxed into conversation. His right paw moved slowly up to rake his claws through the shaggy fur upon his chest. His tongue curled slowly out to brush against his muzzle, startlingly pink against his white fur, his pink eyes closing fully once more. He started to stretch upwards, though he paused when he actually thought on how high the roof of the elevator was. His head tipped back, taking a glance up, then just rubbing each shoulder until it popped. His paws flexed, each individual finger cracking, then rolling his neck. Once all that had been done, he turned his gaze back to the other male in the elevator, his eyes half-closed, but always attentive. A last murmur left his muzzle, this one merely a comment on the current ride.

"I'll never get used to these things."

OOC: Alright, time to move things forward!

IC:
Anya directed the stevedores as they loaded the gear sent up by the mercenaries. Pointing to the last crate she said "Put that one over there next to the loading door and strap everything down. I'll check it myself after my passengers are loaded." She then turned and walked to the large door leading to the rest of the Girdle. She opened the door and checked the time on her wrist slate, 1755, and still nobody here. Sepforus was going to prepare dinner for the Mercs and she needed to find out their preferences to relay them to him.


Edit: Tried IC tags, hated them.