Private One Man's Trash

[Persephone Dashiell]

ZORONHEAD, DECOMMISSIONED CITADEL

Persephone was back on Zonjou V. An interesting little planet in her opinion. There was an dangerous undercurrent. Smugglers, pirates(ugh), criminals and shady-types of all sorts used it as a passthrough. Yet then there was a much brighter side. Everyday citizens. Traders. Pioneers. Scholarly types who came to research ruins.

An odd mix but it gave the planet a buzz. Something she couldn’t describe. Something that made her feel as if she could come back again and again. Given the last time she was here it was a disaster, Persephone was eager to come back and go inside the ruins once again. Different ruins but the same excitement was still there.

“There’s so much leftover from the Kathol days, plus what was there before them. Naturally, a lot of people have raided the ruins. The Kathol obviously had their own agenda. Positive they raided the caves and ruins. Then all the criminals out here but that’s even better.”

Persephone didn’t wait for him to ask why. Or how. Instead with a small beat to catch her breath she continued.

“Even better because if criminals are using the ruins to hide out in, that means they bring their stuff. Stuff that gets left behind as they get killed. Stuff we’re going to find and liberate for our own.”

Liberate was a much better word than stealing or theft. A word a lady like herself would use. She was coming to learn the work of a ‘treasure hunter’ was all about framing finds in the right way. When it came down to it, she didn’t see it much different than actual theft - beyond a bit better moral compass.

They were walking away from their transport vessel, the Citadel looming in the background. A dusty trail left by speederbikes and animals marked the way towards a stretch of ruins built into one of the canyon walls. The sun was rising in the mid-morning sky, already beating down hot on them in the arid desert environment. Not her favorite place to be - too dusty, too hot, too dirty but one had to go where the artifacts were.

Critical blue eye crossed over Kiran. Lingering much longer than one just observing. Head tilted up and down, assessing. There was a long pause, bordering on the uncomfortable.

“Did you do something to your hair? It actually looks good. Suits you.” A small pause. "Keep it that way."

Kiran Arlos​

 

[Kiran Arlos]

Kiran Arlos
​

Kiran felt the heat first the kind that settled into his jacket and refused to leave. Even with the breeze rolling through the canyon, the air tasted like dust and sun-baked stone. Zonjou V wasn't beautiful in the traditional sense, but it had a kind of grit he respected. The place felt alive in its own way: half scholar, half scoundrel. He could see why Persephone liked it. The kind of planet where someone could disappear into the noise, or make a name for themselves if they were clever enough.

Her voice carried ahead of him, clear even over the crunch of gravel under their boots. He listened, half a smile tugging at his mouth as she spoke about the Kathol ruins and their layers of conquest and rediscovery. There was always something magnetic about the way she talked about history practical, almost predatory, yet threaded with fascination.

He chuckled under his breath, shaking his head. "Liberate, huh? That's one way to put it. Remind me to use that next time someone accuses me of breaking and entering." Still, there was admiration in his tone. She had that balance bold enough to walk into danger, smart enough to make it sound like an opportunity.

The trail wound toward the canyon wall, the ruins barely visible yet, just a jagged mouth in the rock where shadow met light. The transport's engines hummed faintly behind them, fading as they moved farther away. Kiran adjusted the strap of his pack and glanced sideways at her. The reflection of the sun caught in her hair, turning the dust motes into sparks. She was in her element again, and it showed.

When her gaze turned on him, it was sharp and deliberate. He felt it before she spoke the way her eyes lingered, assessing, like she was taking stock of something that didn't quite fit.

For a heartbeat, he froze caught between confusion and amusement. He ran a self-conscious hand through his hair, suddenly aware of how the wind had tousled it. "Uh… yeah." he said, voice dipping into a quiet laugh. "Guess I trimmed it a little since the dig site. Didn't realize I'd passed inspection though. You really like it?"

When she added, "Keep it that way," his grin widened, more genuine this time. "Yes, ma'am. Wouldn't want to ruin my professional treasure-hunter aesthetic." He let the teasing hang for a moment before his tone softened. "But thanks. Coming from you, I'll take that as a compliment."

Kiran adjusted his pack again, glancing toward her with an easy smile. "So." he said, "What's the plan? We 'liberating' relics or hunting trouble first?"

 

[Persephone Dashiell]

"If I didn't like it, I would have told you. Fashion is an extremely serious business. I don't joke or lie when it comes to personal appearance."

On that front, she was a little cut-throat. Persephone liked to look a certain way. Clean clothes. Well conditioned and poised hair. A tinted lipgloss. Manicured nails. As such she expected others in her orbit to at least meet her halfway. Even now her little sister Phoebe wore nailpolish more days than not and she was just a little kid.

"It is a compliment and you're welcome. I wouldn't say treasure hunter just more....dashing teenage boy."

Persephone didn't want to utter the word handsome. Kiran Arlos was easy on the eyes, one would have to be extremely blind not to notice. Yet saying that out loud? To him? It just invited disaster. Especially since she didn't really know him. Or completely trust him. Or even have a good read on him. Mysterious but not in a cute way, more of a frustrating way.

"I never go hunting for trouble Kiran."

Head craned up as they approached the entrance on the side of the red cliffs. It was carved and shimmered with multiple colors. Almost painted but it was clearly a mineral from the environment, either washed over the surface or mixed in. The sides were crumbling and some of the stone steps but the entrance looked almost as if it could have been completed a year ago.

It meant not many had been inside. Or if they had been they didn't trash the place. Persephone hated seeing graffiti in historical places. There was a time and place for everything and ruins weren't it.

"We're looking for treasure of course. Now, I know nothing of this place beyond what the Kathol did here but....always up for looking around. Documenting our findings at the very least."

 

[Kiran Arlos]

Persephone Dashiell
​

Kiran couldn't help but grin as she delivered her declaration about fashion with the same gravity one might use for discussing battle tactics. "Noted," he said, amusement flickering in his voice. "Next time I risk a haircut, I'll make sure to clear it through the Persephone Dashiell Style Authority first." He gestured vaguely toward her immaculate attire, how even here, under the scorching sun and clinging dust, she somehow looked composed, deliberate. "You make it look easy." he added, quieter, a trace of sincerity slipping through before he could stop it.

Her next words "dashing teenage boy" landed like a carefully aimed shot. Kiran raised a brow, the grin returning full force. "Dashing teenage boy? That's what we're going with?" His tone was light, teasing, but his eyes lingered on her for a moment longer than necessary. Persephone always did that, kept just enough distance, as if refusing to let her thoughts give too much away. He respected that about her, even if it made her impossible to read.

"I'll take it." he said finally, chuckling as he fell into step beside her again. "Beats being called a 'guy who hauls buckets.' Though I feel like you downgraded my job title just to keep me humble."

Her response 'I never go hunting for trouble, Kiran' made him laugh under his breath. "No, of course not." he said dryly. "Trouble just follows you around, probably drawn by the scent of your nail polish."

The humor faded slowly as the canyon opened up before them. The ruins rose from the stone like something half-remembered, half-dreamed, walls carved with intricate patterns, the mineral-rich surface catching the light and throwing it back in deep reds and muted golds. The air cooled near the entrance, the dry wind threading through the fractures in the rock, carrying with it the faint echo of something ancient.

Kiran slowed, eyes tracing the sharp lines of the architecture. "This place…" he murmured, mostly to himself. "Doesn't look like the usual Kathol design. Too… careful. Like they were building on something older."

He stepped closer, his boots crunching softly against the sand and gravel. There was something mesmerizing about it, the way time had worn the place down, yet left it somehow untouched. No scrawled names, no empty cans or litter. Just silence and history breathing through the stone.

Kiran nodded, his expression thoughtful now. "Treasure, documentation, hidden chambers, it's all the same to me," he said. "You lead, I'll follow. Just promise me that if we find any curses or ancient traps, you'll let me be the first to trigger them. Seems only fair since you're the brains of this operation."

"Alright, Persephone." he said, voice low but warm. "Let's go liberate some history."