Welcoming to Different Skies, an original science-fiction roleplay. Please mind the air locks and try not to get stuck in a vacuum.



"Humanity can survive, my friends. But it will take effort and it will take sacrifice. But first, we must rebuild the wheel to study these assailants from beyond. Any piece, any fragment of the Deus Pinnae that rears its head will be ours. Yamata 16 can no longer afford to linger in the shadows. If we must, we will take all of Bastion space in our grasps and ravage it until every metal sliver of the Pinnae is revealed... By any means necessary."

Jonathan Langdon.

Vestiges of Our Kind




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AGE: 52
Occupation: Landlord and part time mechanic
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Ian Schlip


My Content
Dec 22 2015, 07:49 PM
Time of Day: 1858
Date: December 24th 2515

It was early evening on the eve of the twenty-fourth and the interior of the no name bar Ian sat within was packed full. Scores and scores of people and synthetics alike were raising glasses of some spirit or another and clicking them together. Though everyone knew that the drinks the synthetics had was far from alcoholic. The cacophony of voices rose till Ian gripped at his head and snapped, "Stones. Can't they keep their voices down?" His tone was sharp and his eyes hard as he looked down at the small glass of bright blue liquid in his left hand.

The bartender grunted in an uncommitted response as she dried a glass by hand. A gesture that was far out of date that some people realize. With the advancement of technology since the days of Earth, hand drying just about anything was unneeded. Ian lifted his eyes and watched as the bartender, a bald, young looking Chimera, flicked her tongue from her mouth. The old landlord watched the motion of her tongue for another moment before the Chimera looked up with a cocked eyebrow. "Got a problem, Pyth?" She sneered. Ian shook his head and swallowed hard. "Then stop staring. It's rude." The bartender said before she stepped away to take an order of another person.

Ian nodded after she left and returned his eyes to the glass in his hand. "Damn it." He swore and drained the glass of its contents. The blue liquid sent a smooth yet harsh burn of arctic flame down his throat. Once the drink met his stomach it sent out a cooling feeling throughout his body. As Ian let out a rough exhale he heard multiple beeps in his ear. With a glance to the thin, matte black bracelet on the wrist of his left hand. His dark eyes lingered on the bracelet as another staccato of beeps rang through his ear.

"Answer." He said with a growl. "What?!" He spoke and the microphone of the dull silver ear piece picked up his voice. There was a long silence on the other end and Ian was about to snap again but the connection was disconnected. "...right." He croaked before he raised his finger to get the bartender's attention once again.
Sep 8 2015, 10:00 PM
Time of Day: 0658
Date: September 9th 2515

The Gritaven Boarding house was a quaint, two-story building located in the Moors of Bastion, not far from the vespaport. Like many of the buildings the boarding house exterior was made from a sleek, silver material, but over the years the "sleek" and "silver" part of its description faded, taking on a more brown and rough appearance, similar to brick. The Gritaven was home to many mechanics, dock workers, and people down on their luck in need of a temporary place. The previous landlord didn't have a soft spot in his craggy heart for the downtrodden, he preferred to get his money and be done with you. His way of doing things differed greatly from the current proprietor.

Ian Schlip swore as the alarm clock screamed to life from its perch on his nightstand. The shrill sound pierced the comfortable silence that have over taken the room. "Stars and stones," he groaned and kicked the comforter off and laid on the bed, his head pounding in time with the alarm. Pressing his thumbs against his temples Ian focused his will as best he could and let it flow in accordance to his thoughts. The infernal wailing of the alarm clock ceased and a long breath escaped Ian's lips.

A moment later Ian felt his mind start to drift back to sleep but was met by the chirping of his comlink informing him of a message. With a whimper befitting the manliest of bunny slippers Ian rolled over and picked up his comlink, a small ear piece of a brushed, dull silver color, and the thin, matte black bracelet that the ear piece sat within. Ian pressed the ear piece into place and slide the bracelet around his left wrist. "Sync and play." Ian drawled and a soft feminine voice spoke into his ear.

Schlippy? It's Judeth Vizzen. In room two-fifteen? I was just wondering if I could get you to come take a look at a couple things today. I have a guest due to arrive today and would like to have the place in perfect condition. Please and thank you.

Judeth Vizzen, or the "Perfectionist" as Ian's daughter likes to call her, was an older woman(not much older than Ian was) who had been a resident in Gritaven since before Ian had first roomed here, more years ago than his daughter had been alive. She had seen Gritaven from its early renovated days. She also never was late on a payment, was always courteous, and polite. He'd never even heard her swear, something Ian could never say about himself.

Miss Vizzen lived on the second floor near the middle of one of the halls and always had fresh flowers on a wall mounted vase by her door. Something Ian was told began with her old husband before a gang related incident cut his life too soon.

Ian sighed and nodded to himself, tempering his will to get up from his cloud of a bed. It took ten more minutes before he finally placed his feet on the floor, his work boots and a fresh pair of sockets sat by the end of his bed. Compliments of his Psionic abilities. Ian was a Pythian, a human with the ability to manipulate certain things with his will. Mostly he was able to use his Psionics to move and manipulate solid matter. In other words Telekinesis.

The landlord stood and walked into his bathroom, showered, shaved, and pulled on his last pair of clean coveralls and tied the sleeves around his waist. He pulled a black t-shirt over his torso and tucked it into the waistline of his coveralls and finally tugged on his work boots. He'd snag a quick breakfast before getting to work.


Approximately an hour and three quarters later, Ian knocked on the door to Miss Vizzen. "Miss Vizzen, It's Ian." He said into the door. While he waited he looked at the wall mounted vase that held a bouquet of yellow, orange, and red flowers. A color scheme that reminded him of a soft flame. The aroma that came from the flowers though, was nothing less than interesting. It was a scent that Ian had smelled before but didn't have a name for. Miss Vizzen opened the door a moment later.

"Ah, Schlippy." Judeth Vizzen said endearingly. "I'm glad to see you got my message. Come in come in." Judeth Vizzen was very tall for a woman, even by standards for men. She stood around six foot five and weighed maybe a buck forty, she looked somewhat skeletal but her skin was dark as if she had a perpetual tan. She moved with the an unconscious grace befitting a dancer or someone that had been active in martial arts. "Would you like something to drink?" She asked as she disappeared into her kitchen.

"Thanks, Miss V. A glass of perp juice would be grand." Ian replied and walked to the kitchen entrance. "So what were the issues you were having?"
Sep 3 2015, 11:01 PM
Time of day: 0648
Date: October 23 2015

"Come on, Sprat. It's time to get up." Ian yawned as he pushed open the door to his daughter's room. "You don't have time to- oh..." Ian stopped just inside the room, his hand still on the door. What laid before him was not what he had expected on a Monday. His daughter, Faye, sat on the end of her bed with a holovid up with some sort of demonstration being done on it. Deep emerald green eyes looked through the display and focused on Ian. "Morning, Da." She said with some added flare of an accent. "I'm ready when you are." She added and her eyes focused on the display once again.

Ian blinked at Faye with mild surprise and turned to leave, a yawn struggling to push its way through his throat. A few minutes later Ian and Faye climbed into the car, an older modeled Rembrandt, Ian, with some help from Faye, had restored. The Rembrandt roared to life and made its way into the morning traffic. Faye was dropped off at school a few minutes later and informed her father of the time she would be done. He nodded and kissed her on the cheek before he left.

"We have flying cars and all this space and we still travel in lines." Ian groaned as the Rembrandt sat in the morning traffic jam. His destination this day was one of the many bazaars that inhabited Bastion's Carpel area. Ian wasn't looking for anything in particular so much as he was hoping something new would catch his eye. He had nothing planned for the day so a relaxing day window shopping didn't sound bad.

It took another hour before Ian was free to slip from the Rembrandt and put his feet on solid ground. All around him was the sounds of people, buying, selling, arguing, and laughing. Even a few haggling over the prices of objects. The air was full of conversations and the want for business so palpable Ian could taste it.
Aug 25 2015, 02:16 AM
_searching Z:\ for query...
    _uploading requested file...
    _opening heuristic personnel dossier:
    _dossier template: DEFAULT
    _script execution time .006 seconds


Z:\ P L A Y E R - I N F O R M A T I O N.ooc

    _requesting RL:\ for established query...
_player alias: John
_other characters: None
_modes of contact: Skype: the_king_of_lame

Z:\ C H A R A C T E R - I N F O R M A T I O N.ic

    _analyzing system settings...
      _generating personnel dossier: DEFAULT
      _rendering holographic display:

Matt Ryan

_affiliation: Unaffiliated

_full name: Ian Terry Schlip
_nicknames/alias: Schlippy, I.T., Terry
_date of birth: April 30th 2463
_age: 52
_home planet: Bastion
_current residence: Bastion
Father- Germain Schlip - Missing, presumed dead
Mother- Adrinea Schlip - Missing presumed dead
Adoptive Family/ Uncle- Anthony Doxon - Alive
Adoptive Family/ Aunt- Becca Doxon - Alive
Adoptive Family/ Cousin- Rowan Doxon - Alive
Adoptive Family/ Cousin- Qizzen Doxon - Alive
Sister-in-law - Gillian Doxon - Wife to Quizzen
Two nieces- Childred to Quizzen and Gillian
One nephew- Child to Rowan
Ex-wife- Farah - Alive
Daughter- Faye Schlip - Alive

_orientation: Heterosexual (Bi curious)
_marital status: Divorced

_gender: male
_height: six feet
_weight: one hundred ninety-four pounds
_hair color: light brown
_eye color: dark brown
_identifiable marks:
- Left are and shoulder are heavily augmented with cybernetics
-The areas where the cybernetics were implanted were made to match his flesh tone, there is scaring around the areas but nothing grotesque. (The augmentations grants him no strength bonuses.)

-Part of his left ear lobe had been cut off.

- Violet markings on his forehead and right cheek signifying his archetype.
- On his brow the markings resemble small diamonds, on the right side of his head, almost perfectly in-line with the corner of his right eye, one diamond extends down approximately an inch and hooks under his eye, ending a little less than an inch from his nose.

-Ian's eyes glow violet depending on the output of his abilities. The more work or strain needed the brighter his eyes shine.

- A two inch long crescent shaped patch of scar tissue from a burn on his right forearm near the crook of his arm.

_occupation: Part time mechanic at Qizzen's garage and landlord of his boarding house

Z:\ P S Y C H O L O G Y.ic

    _psychological evaluation loading... COMPLETED.
_personality: Ian has been around for a while. He is a tinkerer, he prefers to deal with machines a bit more then people, though he is not an introvert nor a recluse. Ian is a bit of a workaholic, though he would tell you he just has a ridiculous work ethic and doesn't do things half assed. Ian isn't a brilliant man but he is inquisitive and creative, often thinking up something and digging to figure out who it would work.

As a Pythian he has the ability to probe minds with telepathy, while he knows he has the capability to do so he chooses not to unless he feels he must. He doesn't like to abuse his abilities, whether this is due to how he was raised or by the fact that he is rather weak in most of his abilities, he is unsure. He thinks it might be a mixture of the two.

Fighting isn't really a strong suit for Ian, though he isn't incapable of handling himself in a brawl. When fighting Ian uses anything he can to win, he doesn't believe in a fair fight. His telekinesis is his best asset in a fight, with his ability to make Psionic Scales for protection he

If Ian is unable to avoid a fight he will use whatever he can to win. His philosophy is that there is no such thing as a fair fight. He has undergone training to help him should he need to defend himself, though he is not expert by any means. Ian is somewhat proficient but not necessarily a good fighter but he is tenacious and doesn't know when to quit. He knows that if he can't win, run.

Ian's outlook on the other archetypes is rather Buddha, he doesn't judge someone for what they are but by their actions. When he was younger that was a bit different, but at one-third of his lifespan he has learned that not everyone is a bad person simply because of what they are.

When Ian encounters a problem in life he looks at it in a mechanic's point of view, figuring out the problem then breaks it down in a methodical way. While he isn't prone to hot headed outbursts, that isn't to say they cannot or will not happen. Especially when it comes to women and children. A bit archaic in his belief but he doesn't like the idea of hurting women and children. The only time he doesn't feel bad with when the woman has done something that without a shadow of a doubt, deserves it. (examples: has killed someone and is trying to kill someone else or has harmed a child.)

When Ian was young he let his mouth run and he often ended up on the floor because of it. Now that he's gotten older he is still sarcastic but he doesn't just let his mouth run to run. While Ian isn't the biggest people person, he is able to carry a conversation rather well, opting to listen more than talk. As he's aged he's seemed to pick up a bit of a sage like air to him. When he talks about himself, Ian will no doubt bring up something his daughter had done that he found hilarious or adorable. He may even pull out a picture of her to show around.

Z:\ P O W E R - I N F O R M A T I O N.ic

    _genetic sequencing algorithm initiated... COMPLETED.
_archetype: Pythian

-Telepathy: Ian has the ability to read minds on a minor scale, usually only able to pick up snippets of information rather than a clear message. Very similar to listening to a radio broadcast with interference. Due to his rough skill in telepathy he has been unable to manipulate the mind of another.

-Empathy: Now unlike the simplistic meaning from the twentieth century, Empathy is the manipulation of emotions in another being. Ian, like many(if not all) Pythians is able to do this. However, when manipulating the emotions of others Ian stands a high chance of mirroring the emotional state he's trying to push.

-Telekinesis: The ability to move objects without physically touching them. Possibly the most versatile and practical of all the abilities a Pythian can do. Due to these reasons it is the ability Ian is strongest in. For instance, Ian is able to lift up to a thousand pounds(however he has never once come close to lifting that much). Depending on the weight of the object determines how long Ian is able to keep it suspended or how far he can throw it. He is able to lift himself for a fair amount of time before he feeling exhaustion set in.

He is capable of weaving a "psionic armor" of sorts, though it would be more accurate to say "Psionic scales". Even though he is a capable telekinetic Ian isn't able to protect his entire body at once. Instead he makes a protective field of Psionic energy over his most vital areas, or over where the brunt of the force will be applied. With this method he is able to make multiple layers, increasing the protection over the area.

The same principle behind the Psionic Scales gives Ian an advantage in a fight, however slight it might be. By generating a field of Psionic energy around his attacking limb, a fist for example, would add protection to his limb while possibly increasing his blow's effectiveness.

-Illusions: Always the party favorite, Ian is able to project images and sensory stimulation upon a person's mind and senses. During his younger years this was a favorite of his. He hasn't used it quite as much as he used to so he isn't very proficient in his Illusionary skills.

-Non-Psionic: Ian is a tinkerer, he has dabbled in different areas of mechanical creation and modification. While he has never done something extravagant he has learned how to take care of a firearm and has built a few knives and gadgets of his own, mostly for self-defense.

-Telepathy: With his unrefined aptitude in telepathy Ian is very susceptible to mental manipulation, if a bit more protected than some.
-Empathy: As previously stated, Ian runs a chance, one rather high, of mirroring the emotions he attempts to push onto another individual. This only increases with the number of people he attempts to manipulate. Should Ian try to push too many types of emotions at once on more people than he can handle, the possible backlash could deal a grievous blow to his emotional and mental state.
-Telekinesis: Ian's weakness in Telekinesis comes down to his mental and physical health. Despite his Psionic Scales' protection, Ian's body is still vulnerable to blunt force trauma. A strong enough blast can still cause major injury or death.
-Illusions: Ian, like all organics, is susceptible to Illusionary tricks. Even with his experience with them he can still be tricked into believing illusions himself.

- Psionic limitation:Ian is only able to effect three people at a time with his Psionic abilities. Whether this is a permanent limitation has yet to be seen as he doesn't push his abilities much.
- Ian isn't what could be considered a competent fighter. Though not to say he doesn't know how to defend himself if he must.
- Still able to die and be injured as a normal person(e.g. guns, blasters, knives, blunt force trauma, falling, aggressive face pounding, etc.)

-He has a bit of a weak stomach when it comes to blood.
-His daughter's big green eyes.

Z:\ H I S T O R Y.ic

    _individual background loading... COMPLETED.
On Magnus II there lived a couple, Germain and Adrinea Schlip, humans that had undergone the proceedure to make them into Pythians sometime in their early years of life. This made the chance that their offspring would be born a Pythian rather high. In the year 2463 Adrinea gave birth to their son, Ian, who was a born Pythian. Germain and Adrinea raised Ian with more love than the sun could give off heat and radiation, he was their whole world.

Ian grew up on Magnus II until he was ten and his parents went missing while on a second honeymoon. Which an investigation was opened to try and find them. Before they were labeled Ian stayed over at his friend, Hui's house. Hui's and Ian's parents were also friends which made the discovering of them missing equally painful. Ian stayed with Hui for two months before he went to live with his Mother's brother Anthony Doxon on Bastion. Ian had never met the Doxon side of his family so he didn't know what to expect.

When he arrived he was welcomed with open arms and given time to adjust to the new area. While he adjusted he found out that his uncle, Anthony, and his father, Germain, didn't get along very well and due to some sort of fight the two had, the families hadn't seen each other in some time. Ian was fifteen when he started to come into his Psionic abilities. It was pretty messy at first, his telekinetic ability was rather strong while his others were not. With help from Becca, his aunt who was also a Pythian, he slowly gained control over them. Ian's eyes would glow violet depending on the output of his power, the harder the work the brighter his eyes would shine.

Ian worked at his abilities while he tackled school work. He would often get scolded by his uncle for fighting in school. It wasn't until one night when he found out why he fought so much. Ian was full of anger at his parents, some part of him felt abandoned and he took that out on others. Having been similar in his youth, Anthony showed Ian a better way to vent his anger and frustration. Anthony had a garage where he and Qizzen, his daughter, worked. It was a pretty prosperous shop for its small size. Ian began tinkering with small pieces of equipment and, after showing Anthony his aptitude and prior knowledge of machinery, took part in working in the shop part time, as he was not yet old enough for an actual job. Most of his time was spent in school, tinkering with computers(both soft and hard ware), and practicing his abilities. These outlets helped fix Ian's explosive violent tendencies.

Shortly after graduating high school, nineteen year old Ian was arrested for joy riding in a vehicle he hacked into. He was caught after an hour and had to have his uncle pick him up. He was scolded and grounded for "forever". When Ian was twenty-four he hacked into the mainframe of a big name software company and stole a copy of the software for their new security system. There was a bet on the intranet for who could do it first. He was successful but was caught not long after. Instead of being put in jail he was met by the head of security and offered a chance to help beef up their security. Ian had a couple catches before he said yes but most of those were denied and he was offered a nice steady pay check. He didn't need to even be in the building, just assist in the upkeep and fortification when it was needed. Ian agreed.

With the checks from the company he assisted Ian moved out of the Doxon's and into his own place, a quaint little boarding house not far some the vespaport. While Ian continued to help the company he also had gotten a part time job down at the Vespaport loading and unloading cargo vessels. During one afternoon he was offloading a vessel when he heard that the vessel was looking for new mechanical personnel. Ian, knowing he would rather be on the vessel than on the docks loading one, applied and was accepted after the application process.

Ian quit his loading job and informed his landlord that his new job would require him to travel. After a short discussion Ian paid the landlord the cancellation fee on the room and left. The young Pythian spent the next five years working on the Icarus, traveling from port to port on different planets, spending some nights in a local bar and some girl's bed. At one point during his five years he had an on-the-job incident that caused the muscle of his bicep and part of his forearm to become extensively damaged. He underwent surgery and his arm was augmented with cybernetics. The cybernetics did nothing to increase his strength however, the cybernetics made him just as he was, if giving him some sweet scars.

After five years on the Icarus Ian met a woman named Tavera Nar, a chimera mercenary with questionable moral standing. Ian and Tavera Nar met in a bar and had a rather heated discussion over drinks. The conversation ended with Ian losing part of his left ear lobe. After that eventful night he had such strong feelings for Tavera he thought he hated her. It turned out to be the opposite. One night Ian and Tavera were locked into another argument, neither budging their standpoint, when Tavera lashed out once again but was caught by Ian's telekinesis and held her assault at bay for a couple seconds before she distracted him and leaped onto him. The rest of the night was filled with supernova leveled passion.

Ian and Tavera saw each other whenever they could and this went on for two years. There was a two year absence where he didn't see Tavera at all. He spent one drunken night with another co-worker and was interrupted by someone Tavera. The female merc saw Ian with another woman, turned and left without a word. Ian attempted to follow but tripped on the bed sheet and knocked himself for a loop. Tavera was gone before he could reach her.

Another three years past and Ian had become an important assets to the Icarus. He still chimed in with the security company, who had undergone a name change to "Centurion", it was still a rather low security company but they still paid him so he didn't complain. Ian was about to take some time off and go home for his annual when he heard that the Icarus was going to be docking at less than safe port. Ian, who made it a habit to visit every port he stopped at, took just enough for two drinks and went to the closest bar. That night ended with Ian blacking out. When he came to he wasn't in his cot on the Icarus, instead he was in bed with a woman with a body like a gymnast with dark purple hair. The woman's back had dozens of scars and a stump just above her butt from what Ian assumed was once a tail. Ian got up and made breakfast and brought it back to the sleeping woman.

When he set the plate down on the nightstand he finally realized it was Tavera Nar, she had changed her hair and her tail was gone. He noticed that her body was made of more springy muscle than it was years before. When Tavera woke up they talked and caught up, Ian asked her if she would come with him but she refused saying "we're on different paths" something Ian tossed halfheartedly back at her before he left.

Around Ian's fortieth birthday he and his ex-wife Farah took their new born daughter to the park on Magnus II. They both had taken leave for the birth of their daughter and though they were no longer married, something they agreed on mutually, they wanted to raise her with the other in her life. Farah and Ian stayed on the Icarus for another year before they decided to get job at a big repair shop on Bastion so they could focus on raising their daughter and give her a stable living condition near Ian's family. Farah's happened to live on Hrimpursar and she didn't want to raise Faye on the icy planet.

Farah and Ian chose to live close to one another rather than live together. This gave them both the space and the possibility to see other people without it getting awkward. Farah took a two story house while Ian chose the old boarding house he lived in before, only this time he owns it. By this time Ian was no longer apart of the Centurion company and had stopped receiving checks from them, however he had invested that money intelligently and now has a decent retirement plan and college fund for Faye to use when she gets older.

Ian is fifty-two and still single, and is a rather prosperous landlord for his boarding house. He takes care of his tenants and works to make sure their lives are pleasant there. His daughter, Faye spends nights between his place and his ex-wife's and her new husband, Warren. Ian stopped working at the vespaport a few years back and decided to focus on being a landlord, father, and part time helper at Anthony's, now Qizzen's garage.

Z:\ S A M P L E.ic

    _accessing individual's archive footage files...
      _generating script... COMPLETED.
"Try it again, Bith." Ian said as he shut the hood of the vehicle. The engine of the old man's ride coughed to life before dying. The old man inside the cab slammed the heels of his hands against the steering wheel. "Slag!" He spat as he climbed from the interior of the car. "What in the star ways could it be?" He asked as he scratched his stubble covered chin. Ian looked the older man over and shook his head with a shrug. "I'm not sure. You placed the spark plugs, the alternator, the starter. Hell even the...wait" Ian stared at the hood for a moment before he motioned for Bith to pop the hood.

A couple hours later Ian ah-hah'd and wheeled out from under the ancient car. "Got it!" He exclaimed and held up a long hunk of metal with staggered metal circles on it. "See here? This is a crankshaft. " He said pointing his index finger at circular part on it. "And this is where the pistons hook onto. But here," he said and pointed to an obviously broken piece, "you see that? This thing is scrap." Bith sighed as he took the part into his hands. "Slag...and that's the reason?" He asked and assisted Ian to his feet. The pythian nodded, "Aye. Though I can't saw much on it. I'm no specialist on antiques like this." He said and rapped his knuckles against the side of the car.

Bith nodded and placed the crankshaft onto the nearby workbench, "Well, Schlippy, I can't say this what I was hoping for when I asked you to look it over but it be better than nothing." He said and extended his hand to Ian. "I appreciate it nonetheless." Ian shrugged one shoulder and clasped the old man's hand. "It's no worries, Bith. You've helped me out with Faye, I can't say no to a chance to help out." He gave his old friend a smile, "And star ways, man, I've never seen one of these in the flesh so I didn't mind getting my hands under her hood." Bith let out a bark of laughter and nodded.

A few hours late after, Ian killed the engine to his car and climbed from the driver seat, his light brown hair was swept back and tucked under an old maroon beanie, and a small rust colored ear piece hung from his ear. "...no it isn't the first one. Yes, LEX, that's the one." He said into the receiver of the ear piece, a weak but amused smile touched his lips. "No problem. Take care, bud." He shook he head slowly as he walked up to a burgundy two story building. With a shake of his left arm Ian called a small holo projected screen with an image of a small girl with large green eyes. After a few swipes Ian had a number in place of the picture.

Ian hesitated for a moment before he pressed the screen and the number gave way a few moments later to an image of a young woman with deep emerald green eyes. "Hey, Da." Faye said casually, the background noise let Ian know she was listening to music, some up beat tune with hard to understand lyrics. "Hey, Sprat. Are you ready yet?" He asked knowing full well he was. He didn't know where she got her preparedness from but with wasn't from her mother and the universe knows it wasn't from him.

"Yeah, I'll be down in a minute. I'm finishing my homework." The video feed then cut and a chirp let him know she changed it to audio. "Mum isn't home but Warren is in the study." Ian nodded, despite the fact his daughter couldn't see him. "Is he ever anywhere else?" He asked rhetorically and sat down on the steps that led to the front door. "Alright, bug, I'll be in Warren's study when you're ready." Ian said to which Faye agree and ended the call.

Ian pressed a button to the side of the front door that resembled an old door bell and waited. A moment later the door unlocked and Ian made his way inside. The interior of Farah and Warren's house was fancy, A few shattered pillars of some old civilization hovered in air by a small field generator, they pieces rotated around each other, coming together on occasion to make the pillar whole again. It was very pretty but something Ian found tacky. There were family holovids silently playing in frames on the wall and a couple of exotic statues that Ian yet again knew nothing of their origins.

"Hey, War and Piece!" Ian called as he entered the study. Behind a large wooden looking desk sat a man with a touch of grey to his impressively coal black hair. His eyes were bright blue and sat behind glasses, which Ian knew he didn't need. Warren was an actor at heart and a pretty good one too, even by Ian's standards. Warren was also a philosophy teacher at one of the universities. "Ah, Ian, come Ian." Warren said with a hint of amusement to his tone. Ian shook his head at the pun his ex's husband made and sighed. This only made a smile grow on Warren's face.

Ian and Warren were both fans of puns, even the bad ones. It was one of the things that they bonded over. That and their love for Faye and Farah, while their love did differ in some way for Ian's ex-wife, they both wanted her happy, which Warren seemed to do for her. Ian pulled up a chair across from Warren and they talked about random topics, how work was going, if there were any boys either of them would have to kill for looking at Faye. The usual fatherhood things. Faye joined them an hours later with her bag, a solid black shoulder bag with numerous little silver dots and some colorful orbs here and there around a large orange circle.

"Alright then." Ian said standing, "Warren, I'll catch up with you later. Faye, tell Warren bye." Faye gave Warren a hug and a kiss on the cheek before they ventured out to Ian's car. "Did you call your mum?" He asked once buckled in. Faye shook her head and stared out the window. "Faye, call your mum. Let her know I'm picking you." She shook her head silently. Oh boy. He thought and nodded. "Call preset two." He told the car and the internal computer initiated the audio calling sequence. "This way her and Warren will know they don't have to be quiet later." Ian muttered which, from the look on Faye's reflected face in the window, meant she understood. Ian cackled evilly as the other end picked up.
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