[h3]THE PLANET SCYLLA[/h3] [i]"Hey, kid, when you talk to Kilowog, ask him about that little maneuver at Tyegin."[/i] It was raining. Through the downpour, the Slyggian slogged through the water collecting in the street. A trenchcoat, flat cap, and a scarf shielded him against the moist chill that seemed to cut to the bone. Abin's ring -- that is, [i]Kai-ro's[/i] ring now -- was in the palm of the Slyggian's hand. The recording creating a flickering recreation of the small H'lven Green Lantern as Salaak tracked the transmission back to it's source. Passing from off the street, the four armed xenoform entered into a cheap motel. Passing the desk, he went straight for the stairs. Up six flights of stairs. Down the hall, fourth door on the left. It was like putting on a favorite pair of old slippers, and feeling the maggot larvae between the toes. Precise thoughts forming the lock-picking tools from out of the emerald light, even as it still felt so strange to use his ring after a decade of complacency on Oa. What had Ch'p been thinking? Being a Green Lantern was a game for the [b]young[/b]. Something neither Ch'p nor Salaak had been for some time now... He let himself into the room. There was a muffle of surprise from one of the occupants inside. On the bed, a man was passed out with a bottle of liquor and the remnants of some kind of narcotic lingering on the nightstand. Next to him, was a brightly colored female whose occupation spoke for itself. Picking up her garments, the prostitute hurried out of the room, as the Slyggian made his way over to the window. Across the street was the nightclub. Robot Emotional Underground. A hologram of a chipmunk huddled into a scrap of wool cloth flickered into being on the windowsill. [i]"Night, kid,"[/i] the illusionary recording of Ch'p uttered, before winking back out of existence. The well of emotion was marked only by the motion of the Slyggian clenching his jaw. Salaak's eyes scanned the area around the window. No signs of a struggle. Whatever had happened to Ch'p hadn't taken place in this room. Sliding his fingers underneath the window, the Slyggian poked his out. A green light enveloped him, as he moved outside and began floating upward. Had Ch'p made a move on the club? That's when he saw him. The body was lying in the open. Broken upon the roof top, where it had been picked over by scavangers, but recognizable as that of a H'lven. [hr][hr][center][h1][color=lime]G R E E N L A N T E R N[/color][/h1][b]"Orphan's Lament" [ Part VI ] [ [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1m4tYUfYCj4]Heroes Fall[/url] ][/b][/center][hr][hr] [h3]THE PLANET MOGO[/h3] The yellow lab slept at the Guardian's feet. Seated on a log, before blue and violet cocoon encasing the boy's form, the long-haired dwarf puffed on a pipe as he used a stick to make several lines into the dirt at his feet. As he finished, the runes illuminated. Rising from out of the ground, the burning icons swirled violently for a moment, before they encircled the cocoon. ...and shattered. Ganthet frowned. Reaching up, he plucked the pipe from out of his mouth and set it down atop the log beside him. Then, levitating up so that he was eye level with the boy in the cocoon, leaned in for a closer appraisal of the situation. The body seemed to have healed well enough. So what about the rest of him? Passed inside of the cocoon, the dwarven figure seemed to step through into another dimension. An astral plane. The horizon on which the child's mind existed. He found himself in the middle of space, staring at a stellar nursery. This was the moment of the boy's death? Beautiful, but not a good place for the mind to dwell upon itself. Turning, the squat, blue man craned his head back and saw a child hovering in a fetal ball. Except the child wasn't human. He was Ungaran. [color=lightblue]"I've gone to some rather great lengths to meet you,"[/color] Ganthet complained bitterly, raising himself so that he was on the same level as the boy. [color=lightblue]"So, I should appreciate it if you would wake up."[/color] [center][img]http://baku-panda.org/images/OU_gldivider.png[/img][/center] [h3]THE PLANET SCYLLA[/h3] The line for the club snaked around the building. As he made his way across the street, toward the door, Salaak reached up to remove his cap. The scarf fell away, onto the street, as the Bolovaxian bouncer on the door turned to put a hand out to stop the four-armed figure. That was cute. The door to the club didn't come off it's hinges. Instead, the door frame shattered, as pieces of the wall broke away with the force with which the Boloxavian was put through the entry into the club. As he followed, through the now open doorway, Salaak casually pulled the fire alarm. The klaxon was loud enough to be heard even over the din of club music, prompting people into a panic as the innocent denizens rushed past the Slyggian in a mad dash for the exit. There was a Daxamite in the ubiquitous all-black attire of a bouncer. No, two Daxamites. The Bolovaxian was picking himself up off the floor. And the bartender was just standing there with his jaw on the floor. "Why don't you go find a Kryptonian?" Salaak noted sourly, as he casually started making his way toward the bar. "Maybe then it'll be a fair fight."