Fantasy The Great Games of Nye

[Fred Colon]

As the airship left port, Kilderkin kept the dumb smile on her face. 'Kildi' wouldn't have any real understanding of what was going on, only that she had an opportunity to become a centurion. She was the kind of person who could bounce back from tragedy quickly. It was most convenient for her to be, after all. She couldn't get much done moping around.

"Its nice to be on an airship again!" She said aloud, leaning on the rails of the warship. That, at least, was true. It was interesting to get an up close look at a modern Nye Warship, even if it was only a small one. She'd have to see how much they had changed, since last she'd run up against one.

And, honestly, she felt more comfortable in the sky, like this. She felt more free. Less claustrophobic.

She stared at Nye as it began to recede, the massive city only slowly diminishing in size as they went. It would be a long time before it completely vanished from view, up here. She was, in all honestly, surprised that this was her exit from it. She'd expected that her exit, if she exited at all, would be more... fraught. Things certainly hadn't gone similarly to any of the scenarios she'd had in her head, worst case or best case scenarios. But that was just life, wasn't it? She was still on track, surprisingly. She wasn't sure if making Centurion was the goal anymore, what with what she'd learned, but it would be a nice bonus if the opportunity presented itself.

But thinking about that could come later, when she'd had more of the facts. Right now she needed to gather more information. She was going in blind to whatever the hell was going on, she didn't even know her companions on this ship, save for Renn, who was not in a very good mental state. So first things were first. Get to know her new companions.

She looked around, and sought Zulan out, as other than Renn, she knew the most about him, having seen his fight in the Games. Though, admittedly, the match had been so short it hadn't really told her much. He had seemed a serious, no nonsense sort. Skilled, to have ended the fight so quickly. Because even if his opponent had been an incompetant blowhard, he was still good enough to get into the games, so the swift victory indicated either extreme luck or significant skill.

She sauntered over to the man and stuck out her hand. "Heya! Zulan, right? I saw your fight! You won real fast. Some people didn't like that, but I can appreciate it. You didn't even hurt the other guy too much, which is pretty swell of ya! To be honest, I'm glad I'm not fighting you, cuz I don't think I woulda won! A real stroke of luck! Now we can all be Centurions!" She laughed, and slapped her knee, as if that fact was somehow funny. "Oh! I'm Kilderkin, by the way! Exited to be helping Nye catch those sons of guns that hurt so many people! Do you know anything about the place we're going to? This Xysma place?"
She vomited words on the other man, not even giving him a chance to respond to each question individually, and spoke loudly. Hopefully the other two would be drawn into the conversation, but if not, she'd simply talk to them separately. She certainly had to explain herself to Renn, at least a little, if she was going to keep up this idiot act.

EldridSmith rozukitsune ManofManyRoles

 

[Lost Echo]

Vixie stumbled as soon as Mr. Merlin set her down. Her legs felt like jelly and her head was swimming, but they’d done it! They were alive! Even that prick Bean! She felt like she was already spinning in circles in joy or relief or whatever this feeling was. She spotted Nyall, lurching toward him, but the second his arms wrapped around her she burrowed into his chest and started to cry, repeating, “We’re alive” and “We did it” again and again.

They were saved. It was over. The stadium was filling up with centurions again. Viv didn’t have to be brave anymore. She could go home, get her dad’s bear hugs (Harry included) and her mom’s cooking, and everything would be alright again. She and Phil could go back to normal. Vixie would be gone. A bad memory.

But then the centurion who was obviously the leader, said Lord Vincent demanded their attendance. Vivian had been raised in Nye. And there was one thing, even children knew. If a centurion spoke, you obeyed. Nobles, rare as they were in her neighborhood, were the same. No one had mentioned Lord Vincent, because the possibility of speaking to him was so outlandish. But Vivian could also hear the threat in his words. She did not know if the danger came from Nye itself or outside, unable to fathom the consequences, but she knew she could not just leave.

Making it was hard. She was exhausted. Philos-o-fur was heavy around her shoulders. He’d only weighed 8 lbs, but that extra tail felt as if it quadrupled his weight. Each step was a burden, though as her lungs filled with cleaner air, she started to feel better. Enough to PAY ATTENTION when Lord Vincent started to speak. (He actually had a throne room, go figure.)

He spoke of their value, having survived. But how did doing nothing (for it’d happened before Vixie knew what to think, let alone do anything) equate to the investigative skills needed to figure out who did this? Weren’t there centurions for this? But the fallen armors, untarnished in the sun, played in her mind. Maybe there weren’t enough. Then she had to help.

The rewards washed over her. Money had never been something she’d paid much attention to, her parents were comfortable enough to pay for the concerts or merchandise she wanted. She knew her parents would appreciate it, maybe put it to her schooling, but it wasn’t real, the amount he was offering. Would it be enough to make their own palaces like this one?

As for the centurion post…Viv had never wanted to actually win. She wanted to meet her hero (who was better than she could have imagined) but when she grew up, she wanted to be a teacher like her mom.

As her thoughts focused once more, she realized others were asking questions. An angry-looking redhead was asking for more information. She missed on what but Lord Vincent’s response was confusing. Of course, there were multiple factions in Nye, but surely Nye would unite against these assailants! Whatever it meant, the boy accepted it, leaning back as a severe-looking woman spoke next, also asking for information. This time, the response was clearer: only when we think you’re ready. It was a phrase every teenager knew, but Viv found it especially annoying as she wanted to know everything.

Still, there was a lull in the questions, so she stepped forward, trying to smooth down her skirt to look more presentable. "Um," Vixie croaked, coughing a bit to clear her throat. "I want to help! I do!" Her gaze darted to Nihal, then Felix before going back to the centurion. "But...can I see my parents first?" When the Lord confirmed, she was almost relieved enough that she almost missed the rest.

There are many who'd see you dead because of your station, most of all the men who attacked the arena,

Oh. It wouldn’t have to be their station as investigators (or whatever their title would be). It was the resource thing. That they’d survived the weapon. And Vivian’s desire to help solidified into certainty. She had to keep her parents safe. For all that Dad’s familiar was a bear, he was a banker! And Mom’s snake wasn’t even poisonous. They hadn’t fought since their school days.

She lost time again, only catching the tail end of a perky woman’s thanks. She hadn’t thanked Lord Vincent! Oh, her mom would be so ashamed. Hopefully, he wouldn’t remember. Her face bright red, she mindlessly followed the crowd.

~Post Advancement~​

The stay was pretty good. With just a touch [of their noodly appendage] Ms. Elise’s familiar healed her. Sure, she’d insisted that her brain would need a few days to fully recover, but Viv felt so much better, she waved the warning off. It wasn’t like she was going back into that place. All she wanted to do was have fun. Sure, the nightmares were a bit of a problem, but Nihal was a great distraction. On the second day, she introduced him and Mr. Abdon to her parents. Viv never wanted to leave her dad’s bear hugs. But otherwise, she hung out with Nihal and explored the huge fortress.

It took a week before they were assigned to a team. Vivi was so excited to stay with Nihal, though she made sure to say goodbye to Merlin before they left. Sitting at the table, she tried not to fidget. Though she’d managed to hold the nerves back all week, it seemed the dam she’d hid behind had broken the moment she sat down. The fellow redhead from before, who’d asked about factions was there. A dark-haired man who didn’t look very impressed was seated already. As was a man with hair almost as long as hers. Vivian had never seen that before in a guy. But maybe he was a girl, no she was a-. Picking up the papers in front of her, she used them to keep from staring. She’d figure it out. There had to be introductions.

The papers grabbed her focus easily. There were missing centurions. Who’d already failed to find this other guy? Even without checking, she knew he’d be a noble. Centurions didn’t do ordinary missing person cases. Not unless it was a serial killer or something. Oh, but they were headed to the Undercity. If there was anything she knew, Vivian knew she didn’t belong there. Nerves shifted to fear. But with a clear head, she couldn’t help but wonder, what was the connection to the stadium? She supposed she’d have to wait for their centurion to show up. In the meantime, she came up with reasons she could be there. She knew she could never blend in, but she could be underestimated. Hopefully. Perhaps her uncle was supposed to watch her and told her to wait there while he ran an errand. Or perhaps she and a group of friends idiots wanted to explore. With plans her fright eased.

Only for him to walk through the door. Her fear flared, but away from actual danger, annoyance also pierced its depths. She’d have to warn Nihal. Though he probably recognized the boy, she doubted he knew how insane he was. He wasn’t going to protect them, no he was going to toy with them. She glanced around the table, knowing they would have to bind together to survive.

Bean didn’t leave any time for questions, as they landed immediately upon the end of his ‘speech.’ Which was ridiculous. If she hadn’t read the paperwork, she would have no idea what they were doing. Watch out for lizard people. Seriously. They were doomed.

They filed out, silent, into the midst of Nye. Familiar streets gave way to dingier ones, falling into a labyrinth that she’d be hard-pressed to follow. She was lost by the time they stopped before a intimidating door, as if it was trying to keep something dangerous in, instead of intruders out. She grimaced at the first words spoken; the tall man, probably trying to be funny but failing.

Or maybe just trying to be mean. Immediately, not giving anyone time to react, he started in on Nihal, for the stairway not already being lit. Then he tried to scare her. As if she was an idiot, and didn’t realize how dangerous this was. But seriously, what fire user was scared of the dark? Looking at him like he was crazy—though not, because she had seen insanity and was scared of him—she glanced at her friend(!): her expression long-suffering. She knew it was best to ignore bullies like that.

Shaking her head, she went to face her fear. Dodging around the group to speak to the centurion, she asked once she was at his side, “So, why do we think this connects to…before?” She hadn’t wanted to ask where there were people, but she also wasn’t sure quite how secretive this was. A long dark staircase seemed isolated enough to talk.

Goliath Jet Arcanist Anne Boolean

 

[ManofManyRoles]

Charlie Redding
If she had been placing bets today on what the hell she'd be doing for the foreseeable future, this sure as hell wouldn't have bee in her betting pool. Her head throbbed with a headache, one induced from stress and annoyance as opposed to a knock to the temple. She wasn't even a bloody contestant to any of this, and she still got roped into it. Suppose that's what she gets for trying to do her fucken' job and ask around. The absolute kicker to all of this was her damn target wasn't even at the coliseum when it bit the dust. So there was still some twisted serial killer out running amock, now playing second fiddle to a genocidal maniac. Charlie could feel her temple pulsing, fishing a cigarette out of her pocket and lighting it with a careful click of a zippo, a long and slow drag of it, an easy puff of smoke escaping her lips as she stared over the railings. She wasn't sure what to make of her company yet...aside from the fact she didn't like any of em. Why should she? Bein' liked was an earned right, not somethin' you're just entitled to. The 'detective' had been giving a wide berth to everyone thus far, preferring to stick to her lonesome so far.

Usually one to stick to short sleeves and breathable work-pants, she sported a leather jacket for the moment, the likes of which hid both of the tattoo's that usually crowned her upper biceps. Another slow drag of the cigarette, the corvid bird at her shoulder pecking her in the temple to get her attention. "Piss off! Can I fucken help you?" She paused, realizing what she had been doing as her familiar chided her mentally. Pulling her cigarette from her lips she slammed it onto the deckplan below as if it was a venomous snake, stomping it out firmly. "Yeah, yeah, I know. I'm working on quittin'. Fuck me dead, wasn't what I was figuring what we'd be doin' today." Charlie shoved her hands into her pocket, the Pitohui mounting her shoulder like a damn pirate captain's parrot staring her down. "...Now don't you go 'n give me any shit either you little shit...Fuck no. I ain't doin' it." Whatever communication was had during that staring contest earned a groan from the 'detective', head rolling back dramatically before snapping upright, marching towards the common's of the warship she was aboard. "Fucken' fine. Nagging little-" Charlie's usage of her favorite four letter word that started with the third letter of the alphabet was drowned out by a proud caw of the corvid. "I dunno what pisses me off more. That yer' my fucken' conscious, or that I can't throttle you some days, Pitt."

Making her way towards the main area she reached into a pocket, producing a large lollipop and unwrapping it, popping it into her jaws with a sour expression on her face. Cavities were better than cigarettes, at least, and the last thing she needed to do was tell her kid sister she couldn't drop cancer sticks like she promised. Pausing once she entered the room, red eyes carefully scanned the interior of the room before landing on Renn. She didn't look barely past her twenties...what, where they sending songbirds to serenade people to death now? The bird on her shoulder caw'd in outrage to the comparison, flapping its wings and flying over to land near Renn, head tilting to the side a bit as it hopped this way and that, mouth opened it a softer caw. Lovely, Pitt was trying to be social...ah shit she had to make sure the songbird didn't pick up the actual bird. Making her way over and raising a hand in greeting she slowly settled down on the floor besides Renn, who was currently curled up in a childlike ball. Well...shit, how did one do the whole social interaction bit again? "Oi," she started, the woman's tone a bit more gruff than she'd have liked. Taking a moment to clear her throat and try again she reached into her pocket, producing a large sucker that matched the one she was currently working in her cheek and offering it to Renn. "You uh...want a lolly? Ya got the whole fifty yard stare goin on, mate." The corvid on the ground hopped forward a few more hops as if to try to climb onto the curled up Renn... "Oi! Y'know better!" She reached out, grabbing the bird by a scrawny leg and lifting it up by it, the poor feathered friend hanging upside down now.

Mentions: rozukitsune
Same scene: Fred Colon EldridSmith​

 

[rozukitsune]

Renn just stood with the others that had been singled out, trying her best to be invisible which was basically the opposite of possible what with her bright orange hair - no longer in its usual state of perfectly manicured curls; and tattered remains of the dress she'd worn to sing and dance on stage. Had that happened so very long ago? Gareth was dead, and so was any possible silver lining of this whole debacle. Not even the hope of getting away from her highly-supervised life could bring her mood up as she tried to hide from Lord Vincent's commanding gaze.

'Don't look at me, don't notice me, I am not here... I am far away, on a desert Island sipping fruit juice with Nyall and we're having a laugh about all the weird, random stuff we like. This is all just a bad dream, I'm definitely not in the frekkin' throne room of Nye of all places getting drafted into the army. Who drafts a pop star into an army?'

"Hahahahaha! -" Crap... had that been out loud?! She frantically looked over the heads and shoulders of those around her but thankfully most were focused on answering the King regent their questions and getting their answers - no one took particular notice of the redhead laughing like a lunatic in the back except for maybe the people closest to her. She immediately drew her hands up over her face and eyes like a visor and tried even harder to disappear. To shrink. To do just about anything to get away without actually moving from her spot until someone's hand touched her shoulder making her jump nearly clear out of her skin.

"Ma'am?" The soldier asked when he noticed her terrified gaze.

Her right eye twitched slightly at the overly formal pronoun. "Uh... yes?"

"It's time to get moving into groups Ma'am. I'm just going to need some of your information so we can get you squared away..."

The rest of what was said was more or less erased by Renn's mind as she was pushed into a direction and given a set of instructions on how to proceed from here to get her future Centurion commission.

~~Post Advancement ~~
​

She had been dressed in far less showy and more travel-worthy attire by her retinue of handmaidens but once she'd mounted the gangplank they had not been allowed to follow her. So much had changed, been changed... whether or not she had wanted it to and at this point she was utterly numb to the whole thing. They waved to her from the dock-side then disappeared into the throng and left her alone.

All by herself.

With a bunch of complete and utter strangers.

Well, not complete strangers. She remembered Kilderkin, she supposed - but she hardly knew the pirate lady other than those very brief after-the-explosion moments and so instead of trying to be social she simply found a corner and curled up into it. Noel was so fed up with her ennui at this point the Phoenix simply had flown as far away from her as it could and perched on a nearby ship railing to enjoy the breeze in her burning feathers.

She hugged her knees into her chest as the pain of everything she'd been too busy to deal with crashed on her shoulders like a thousand pound weight. She was just a fluffy little cloud in the grand scheme of things. Songbirds shouldn't have to deal with explosions and death and drastic life changes! She buried her face into her knees so tightly that she could feel them digging into her eye sockets. A little more... could she bend enough to push her eyes all the way into her skull?

"Caw."

Renn's morbid thoughts were scattered by the call of a bird of some kind. Having spent all her life around her own avian familiar, she was pretty well versed in the noises they made. It sounded... curious? Concerned, definitely.

She lifted her head grumpily and glared at it... but after so much upheaval she just didn't have the energy to keep that up for long. As her anger ebbed, a new face wormed its way onto the open deck space beside her.

"Oi," she started, the woman's tone a bit more gruff than she'd have liked. Taking a moment to clear her throat and try again she reached into her pocket, producing a large sucker that matched the one she was currently working in her cheek and offering it to Renn. "You uh...want a lolly? Ya got the whole fifty yard stare goin on, mate."

She stared at the blond, and then at the offered stick - her brow furrowing as she tried to puzzle out what was being said. Then the bird hopped over as if to try and comfort her and was subsequently whisked off the deck and hung upside-down from one foot.

Something deep in Renn's heart stirred, and she uncurled enough to reach out her hands toward the corvid, "Hey, don't be mean!" She cried, opening her palms to try and catch the poor bird. "He didn't do anything wrong!" She protested.

Mentions: Anne Boolean

Same Scene: ManofManyRoles @ Fred Colon @ EldridSmith

 

[Huntertabbysandshark3]

Ava Marco
interaction: Jet rozukitsune ZackStop Lost Echo​

ok so the events are the arena, were more just a horrible horrible memory Ava tried to avoid thinking about it after all.. it was honestly something Ava just didn't wanna relive but even with her optimistic attitude the scaring of that day after the adrenaline left.. hit the titanic girl hard.. she just kinda.. stared at a wall for hours just wondering... how this even how the fuck she even survived.. but hey there was something else to distract her now investigating this wackiness, a body disappearing ok cool? why a body well they hand an exploding announcer and disappearing familiars right? she'd stew on that later the thought already drifting back to that day and making her frown. however she'd turn her attention more to the other of course she knew Anya, she did hope Mark would join them but the man was out of commission bad real bad.. still least there was one person she knew still here. "welp nice to be working with you two then.. ex-assassin fancy hey? neet and also nice to meet you ren, anyway i'm Ava, hope we can get to the bottom of this soon enough, still a bit disappointed about the whole mess." *she'd say with a sharp toothed grin.

 

[Goliath]

Post Advancement​

Elriel looked around once more, unable to see his father's body from where they stood. But he knew the forces would find him and bring him to the morgue. Getting in their way or getting emotional would only make their jobs more difficult. He squeezed his eyes shut, “Let’s go, Adamaris,” he spoke as they went to the congregation of survivors. Hearing they’d been summoned to the palace. It wouldn’t be his first time being there, attending a few dinners and galas over the years.

The walk was long on his battered body, but he didn’t complain. Only occasionally grimacing as the pain ripped through him in waves. Elriel was thankful when they arrived, seeing the ruler of Nye upon his throne. He listened to his speech and looked back to their overseer before it was opened for questions.

Elriel smiled, his confidence and the way he presented not all that different than Lord Vincent himself. Unlike most of the others in this room, being around another high noble was nothing new — careful with his words, but he also challenged him respectfully. He didn’t mind the story, trying to paint him as being the conceited rich kid. But such things would never get under his skin. A common deflection technique.

Posturing for position was common in the world of high royalty. And, of course, the ruler of Nye would never let him take control of his very own throne room. Lord Vincent avoided answering his question because it had validity, and he hoped the others realized it. Just because he would make them centurions, as stated, doesn’t mean it was permanent. An hour. A day. A week.

But the second question was answered without issue. It told Elriel one thing. Get unlucky with the stern or more eclectic centurions, the chances plummeted. Get one of the nicer ones, and everyone could get the title of centurion. All he could do was hope that the person assigned to him wouldn’t make it to challenging to receive. Elriel bowed politely, as his time to speak ended, stepping back in line with the others.

Elriel looked to Ada with a soft smile as they sat on the airship to Kastro. Once they landed, he heard the preposition for the bodies to be buried in Nye, but he politely declined the offer. He instead arranged for one of his family’s many servants, a kind man named Hectar, who held the highest position of their workers, to come and retrieve it quickly. His father’s body needed to be sent back to Valencia, for his mother to morn if nothing else. But for him, it was only right that the man he looked up to as a role model, a fair and just man befitting of their last name, to be buried with all the other members of the Whitlock family.

Elriel wouldn’t be able to attend the funeral. It was painful that he couldn’t be present or speak while they put him to rest. But he knew it would be a grand event. For the head of one of the four great Nobel families to pass was a big deal. There would be flowers, people performing songs and dance in the street, food stalls. A celebration of a life lived instead of death. They may even let the lower-ring families enter the upper-ring to pay their respects.

His father had done more work to improve their quality of life than any other noble in the past had — not including his diplomatic and humanitarian efforts in other countries as well. His work had a lasting impact. So even if they didn’t permit it, he knew those very men, women, and children would also be mourning with celebrations of their own as well. He found solace in knowing his father was loved by so many.

Elriel knew it would be his seat to fill. But for now, his mother would have to head the family since he was still too young in age to take the spot. To make decisions with the noble counsel. It was always destined to be handed to him eventually. His right, being the only heir to the Whitlock family's main bloodline, regardless of if he thought he was undeserving or didn’t have the ability to do the job.

Elriel did think he could do it, but his confidence was lacking. He knew he needed so much more knowledge and training, yet the person who guided him on such things was now gone. Beginning a path to figure it out himself, with only words and the ideals instilled in him. To make his late father proud. He spent the night of the funeral alone on top of their living quarters, staring at the stars as the sweet music of his flute carried over the fortress air.

After that, he carried on, knowing it was what his father would have wanted. Spending the rest of the stay with his childhood friend. His mood wasn’t normal, but he was better. Elriel turned to Adamaris sitting beside him, knowing he wasn’t alone. And he had the support of many others as well. Elriel looked around again. Unlike Nye, which he had visited many times, this place was new and was enjoyable to explore.

He straightened his shirt; after ruining his last outfit, one had been delivered from Valencia for him to wear. The same expensive silk as the previous one with a slightly different design. Pardus laid in the sun as they sat outside at one of the many restaurants. They had been inseparable since they had gotten out of the Coliseum. Finally able to talk freely without the spectators.

“So, have you gotten your assignment?” Elriel asked, holding out his still-sealed envelope. “Let us open them together. 1..2..” he tore it open, quickly reading the page. “Mine says Jarnstrond. Where does yours say?” He asked, holding his breath. Relief washed over him as they realized they would be going together, a happy laugh escaping his lips. “After so long apart .. I can only be thankful this is not goodbye again.” His purple eyes twinkled as he stared at them.

———

Plot Advancement​

Elriel arrived at the specified location only to see the man with the goggles from the hole arguing about their mode of transport. Truthfully, for Elriel, he’d much rather get on one of Nye’s aircrafts, modern and regularly inspected, over the old one his probable teammate was arguing for. If this one had ever shown up to retrieve him, Elriel would have turned it down in a heartbeat and had some choice words for whoever had sent it. But he said nothing; it wasn’t his fight.

Eventually, they decided they would take the craft, which looked older than he was, hiding his annoyance at the situation as he boarded. No private sleeping quarters, just cots held by chains. A shower stall barely big enough to turn around in. And a bunch of strange plants. Elriel was less than impressed but kept his judgment to himself, settling on one of the cots.

And then .. Elriel froze as he saw none other than the psycho from the hole. Crammed together in this tiny ship, no way for him to get away from the other. ‘Ah, the universe must be laughing at me.’ If Adamaris was next to him, he’d give them a look. If not, he’d find himself wishing they would hurry up. “Will I need to sleep with one eye open?” He asked, in a way it was hard to tell if he was joking or not.

He also eventually saw a knight, knowing from the designs it was from the country of the Byzantine. Elriel’s family had journeyed to the Scandinavian West on numerous occasions. As well as providing monetary contributions for the war efforts as they fought to become their own country. As Valencians, they believed in free choice and beliefs. But the Byzantines believed in forcing laws to restrict peoples affinity’s and mandating religion. A corrupt church-led government. It didn’t align well for him, but he’d keep an open mind for the man in front of him as best he could.

“I’m Elriel Whitlock,” he spoke, bowing his head slightly before sitting straight again. “The rest of us have a .. bit of history from the explosion.” Wondering what Nye was thinking while assigning this group.

Elriel would read the briefing reports provided by the centurion. In simple terms, they were following the glowing crystal. Something they actually possessed one of. If Ada was next to him now, he’d whisper for only them to hear, “You brought the crystal, right? Let’s keep it hidden from the team for now.”

Elriel watched the man with the goggles rush around. Only increasing his unease at the ship's abilities. All the sensors, gauges and switches were visible in the pilot's quarter from where he sat. “Is he .. always like this?” He turned to the woman sitting on one of the cots away from them.

Emphoa (Adamaris) Jet (Zak)
ManofManyRoles (Mavior) EldridSmith (Ivan)

 

[ManofManyRoles]

Charlie Redding
The tomboyish woman waited patiently for the starlet beside her to realize what dimension she was on, one hand still holding out a confectionary towards her...she wasn't going to take it back. Her arm would rot away and she could become a skeleton, but she wasn't about to rescind an offer for food. It had to be acknowledged, that's how food worked. You either said no thank you, you took it, or you took it and then threw it at some poor sod when they weren't looking. You didn't ignore offered food. A faint click of hard candy against molar as the sweet in her mouth shifted posturing, Renn noticing both her and Pitt. Alas, the poor woman had fallen for the feathered fiends ploy. Yes, pet the poor manhandled bird, just a touch! Charlie scowled, more so towards Pitt than Renn beside her, purposefully moving the corvid away from Renn's reaching hands, the bird giving a caw as if amused. "Trust me, she's think 'bout it. You really don't wanna let 'er in yer lap or go touchin' her. Fiend's got a fucked sense 'o humor."

What a lovely sort of first impression that would have been, wouldn't it? The songbird she came over here to comfort having a panic attack because her hands are burning...and people say she had a fucked sense of humor. Then again, Pitt was just an extension of herself...great, the headache was back. All hail the headache, long may it reign! Charlie shifted a bit, letting Pitt drop to the ground with a little flutter of feathers and indignant noises before it righted itself, hopping up onto Charlie's lap instead of Renn's now. "...Sorry 'bout that...Name's Charlie. D'ya got one, or do I need to be creative here?" She gently bounced the lollipop she held towards Renn between thumb and forefinger as if to get her attention to the offered food. Don't care if she takes the damn thing or not, just a yes or no. Fuckin 'ell she simply thought to herself, a bored look over towards the redhead. A shift of her weight one last time before one leg was curled up in a lap for Pitt to stoop on, the other curled up in front of her, knee up against her chest. 'Least the poor girl wasn't trying to consume her own kneecaps now, right?

Mentions: rozukitsune
Same scene: Fred Colon EldridSmith​

 

[Jet]

​

Mischa flew around the ship inspecting it like a microscope, keeping pace as it soared over the wasteland. The ground stretched out in every direction and even from ten thousand feet, with the vantage of an eagle, she couldn't see a drop of water. It was weird being away from the oceans back home; unnerving like she was trapped by the mountains and deserts. The wastes daunting her as she smiled and slapped the ship. "Looking good hot stuff!"

"Now for a little check up — say ahhh." Her gaze shifted to the four massive propellers, making sure they roated at exactly the same speed. It was a common issue with bigger ships but this one was perfect. "Fuck me," she said. "Never seen calibration this good."

She was impressed with whoever maintained the ship, but they weren't on her level. Nobody could approach the skills of her highness, queen of engineers and ruler of airships!

"Right then!" She soared around the ship with the dramatic flair of an acrobat, spinning and twirling as she flew over the deck. "The ships brilliant, not a scratch on her!" She leaned back in the air with hands behind her head, lounging like she was on the beach. "Hey cap'n, are we there yet?"

"No," Dalton said. "Please stop asking."

"Someone's a stick in the mud." Mischa drifted down and gently landed on the deck. "Where's a man with charisma when you need him?"

"Rat!" She drew curious looks from the deckhands. They were probably jealous after being snubbed by the engineer, but she knew better than to hang with sailors. They were always looking for the next story to tell over drinks, and she wasn't going to be their next topic. "Rat where ya hiding?"

Her gaze traced over the deck and landed on the other girl. Ilana was her name and she was cold as frozen shit. Mischa had been around her since the games started and yet, even now she knew nothing about her. "Ilana!" Mischa yelled. "Dalton's being a muddy stick, come wack him for me!"

"I wouldn't," Dalton droned. "I'll knock her off the ship."

"You're a toughy ain't ya?" Mischa mischievously smiled. "But you've got a soft bleeding heart in there."

"Yeah, whatever," Dalton said as the ship carried on through the sky. The sound of working men and engines filling the crisp, cool morning air.

Emphoa ZackStop

 

[Jet]

​

The crack of whips was ever-present in the prison camp. There was always someone who worked slowly or offended the guards in some way, or maybe the master was having a bad day? There was no better cure than whipping a poor stinking slave, utterly powerless and weak, their screams cutting through camp like a knife.

Today was one of those amazing days, where no slave was safe from the lashes — not even Zak.

He was young then; sniveling and scared as the guards tied him to a stake. His shirt was ripped off and then there was silence, only broken by the quiet weeping of his mother. His lips trembled and tears rolled down his face. He felt a hand on his shoulder and a guard — one of the nice ones — told him to think of something good. To find a place in his mind where nothing, not even a barbed whip could reach.

"Zak of Moon," the warden said. "You've been found guilty of stealing three loaves of bread, one quart of milk, one dozen eggs."

"I didn't do it!" Zak screamed. "I didn't do it! I swear I didn't!"

"You are guilty! Two guards saw you at the scene."

"Have mercy!" a slave screamed from the crowd. "He's only a boy!"

"It matters not," the warden said. "The law is blind to all but crime and punishment."

"I didn't do it!" Zak struggled against the ropes but it was pointless. There'd be no escape for him now. "Please don't—

"Your punishment!" The warden screamed. "Ten lashes." His boots crunched the sand as he approached Zak from behind, scanning the crowd for any sign, any excuse to loose his men on them.

But they were frozen by fear.

"May this teach you a lesson." The warden planted his foot and whipped Zak with tremendous strength, but the boy felt nothing at first, only pressure and the slick feeling of warm blood.

"Nobody is above the law!" The warden twirled the whip over his head. "Not even a child." He whipped again but this time Zak screamed. He could feel skin hanging from his back by threads. The ripping, tearing sensation of barbs cutting his flesh. He saw his mother fall to her knees and the crowd swelled for a moment. He hoped there would be a riot. That someone would take a stand. That he could rely on his friends and family to end this hell.

But the crowd didn't break.

Fear held them in place like the ropes around his body, and then another lash hit his back. Then another and another after that. His screams became whimpers and by the last one, he'd no strength left to stand. The world was going black and his legs buckled as the rope was untied, collapsing as he whispered, "Mom?"

"Where are you?" He mumbled as his eyes opened in real life, finding himself on the ship he'd been crammed into. "Worst time to wake up, was havin such a pleasant dream." He rolled from his bed and landed on all fours, standing as he leaned back and stretched. "Hey fucksticks," he said with a smile. "What're ya conspirin about over there? Ya look like a pair of spooks."

"Watch your language," Darius said. "I won't tolerate inappropriate behavior in my unit."

"My humblest apologies good sir, from now on!" Zak grandly gestured at the fucksticks. "I hereby name them F-Sticks!"

He grinned like a charlatan selling the finest snake oil, but there was something missing. The final piece he wanted to add into this strange, contentious group of people. "Hey Mavior!" he shouted across the ship. "Got a most pressing question!"

Zak approached one of the electrical boxes on the wall, hands hovering near the lights and little buttons. "What happens if I press this?" He pointed at the biggest button he could find. "Will we get a fast pass to the pearly gates?"

Goliath Emphoa ManofManyRoles EldridSmith

 

[ManofManyRoles]

𝓜𝓪𝓿𝓲𝓸𝓻 '𝓜𝓪𝓿𝓮𝓻𝓲𝓬𝓴' 𝓑𝓸𝓸𝓴𝓮𝓻

Mavior kept himself busy during the trip, and now was one of those few moments where he had settled into a point of rest, seated up at the helm with fingers tapping along the console...not at the buttons or anything else, but a steady rap of his digits against the cold metal. The woman Elriel spoke to, Acacia or 'Ace' as she preferred to be called, cracked open a emerald green eye to look over to him. Her right side still bore angry-red flesh, though it was more of an aggravated pink than flaming red by now. "Maverick?" She paused to consider the question, hand playing with the goggles they gripped so tightly, both eyes opening now to look between her kid brother who she was almost certain could hear the entire conversation, and Elriel. But...knowing Mav, he wouldn't care what anyone said whether it be to his face or behind his back. "Not all the time...he always seems to multi-task though. If he's focusing on only one thing, then I'd be concerned...if I'm not worried, don't be. Long as he's staying busy or not hyperfixated on one thing, everything's fine..." She reached over for her crutch, only for it to lean just out of her grasp and clatter to the ground, earning a restrained noise of regret from her. She bit her lip, as if that was enough to snap whatever reserve of mental fortitude she had acquired since the loss of half of her bodies feeling of touch...but no, she kept herself calm. "Can someone...get that for me? I need to stand up, I can't just sit...I hate all this sitting."
Goliath

As Zak grew closer and hovered his finger near one of the console buttons, Mav looked over to him....even this close, through the goggles, one still couldn't see his eyes. Where Ace had shed hers in the dimmer light, Mav kept his own on while he was at the helm, at least while there was still daylight. He pondered Zak's question, head canting to the side just a bit in almost birdlike fashion before he replied, his tone calm and bordering one-note...not entirely deadpan as there was still a chance to find emotion in his voice. But it was a shriveled, emaciated sort of emotion, the likes of which should be fed more often. "No," he replied simply. "That would kill the lights. It was not it's original function, but I rewired the components. It's best if the 'light switch' is easy to find." Now that Zak was right at the helm with Mav, he could find that the male smelled like one of the hydroponic bays, namely the one filled with the eerie but inviting flowers...perfume? Whatever the case, Ace smelled of it routinely as well, just somewhat less often given she wasn't near any direct light sources like the front would offer. "For my own curiosity...do you actually care to know? Or are you more interested in knowing what might spark fright in others around you?"

Emphoa Jet EldridSmith​

 

[Anne Boolean]

Well... things certainly didn't turn out how Nyaall had expected. From surviving the attack on the games to speaking with Lord Vincent. Today was full of twists and turns. Lord Vincent had a job for them as well. The performer couldn't help but find himself curious about whatever was happening. Why were did they survive? Why was he an exception? Besides, his only other options were to return to his management or live in hiding from them for the rest of their days.

He didn't want that though. And according to Lord Vincent, he wouldn't need to do that. He didn't even care about the impolite response from the King Regent, and any other questions which came after his were immediately tuned out. Finally... he really was free. Well, he would technically still be working for someone, but everyone needed to work to make a living, right? And besides, working with Lord Vincent and centurions would certainly not be as terrible as working for the government of his outland... right?

Either way, he didn't spend much time pondering it. Once they were moved aboard the Kastro, he enjoyed his first taste of freedom in the relatively isolated environment. Under his old management, he might have spent a good portion of each day at the gym, but he didn't step inside once. Aside from hanging out with Vixie and meeting her parents, he spent his time splurging and indulging. There might not have been a single moment he was sober during the following week, and no price tag was too hefty for wares. He wasn't sure what he would do with half the things he bought, and he certainly didn't have need for any of it. He had probably shamelessly flirted with any decently attractive man who had made eye contact with him. It was a good thing there were no reporters to broadcast the celebrity's little bender.

Sadly, his little party vacation had to come to an end. And unfortunately for everyone else, before their mission, he had spent the previous night having one last celebration.

---

On the ship, Nihal saw another familiar face besides the fox girl. He greeted him with a grin, wanting to throw an arm around him and shoot the shit for a moment, but finding himself much too tired. Instead, he stumbled to one of the empty seats. Goliath's comment earned a small snicker from Nyaall and made his tired eyes light up momentarily behind the shades he wore.

While being debriefed, the centurion's words went in one ear and out the other for the still somewhat inebriated cat boy. He got the gist that it would be a covert investigation, but he left the details to his teammates. Thankfully, the outfit he had worn today from his recent clothing haul wasn't all that gaudy. His demeanor in this state of mind though...

Upon landing, he followed the centurion who was to be overseeing them, finding himself getting distracted and almost wandering off more than once before they reached their destination. He watched as the two guards in front of the gate both did their piece to unlock it. A smirk spread across his face as Goliath addressed him before berating Vixie.

"Maybe you're the one scared of the dark," he said in response to the request after catching the glance from Vixie. He then stepped forward to the man and lowering his voice to add, "and maybe I like it when people tell me what to do." He heeded the request though and fused with A-paw-llo, emitting a light from himself as his trademark golden cat ears appeared on his head. He continued after the centurion guiding them before following suit in Goliath's introduction. "Name's Nihal. Most call me Nyaall. But you guys... can call me tonight."

Goliath Lost Echo Jet Arcanist

 

[rozukitsune]

Renn blinked at the rebuff given to her regarding the bird and its apparent sense of humor. Her hands slowly retracted back into her lap, clenching into fists on their way back. She didn't even acknowledge the lollipop being dangled out in front of her as her interest in the conversation faded. Head lolling slowly back in the direction of her knees.

Then Charlie was practically poking her with the round sweet and introducing herself. Renn didn't understand. Finally, her eyes focused on the object and she slowly reached out and took it from Charlie, spinning it around between the tips of her fingers and distracting herself with the little crinkling sound it made. "Renn." She answered - intending for her voice to be dead and for that to be the end of the conversation... but instead there was a note of curiosity. The faintest of signs she was not yet lost to the deep seas of depression. Her eyes flicked between Charlie and the treat in her hand, like she was trying to figure out if this was some kind of trick.

Finally though, the small child that yet lived in her somewhere cautiously reached out and unwrapped the lollypop and hesitantly licked it. Her face transformed, and after one more glance at Charlie like she was checking to see if she was about to be reprimanded - stuck the thing into her mouth and closed her eyes with a groan of pleasure. "I always hoped these were as good as everyone said they were."

ManofManyRoles Fred Colon EldridSmith

 

[ZackStop]

The cool breeze in her hair felt pleasant, a far cry from what she was used to. It gave Ilana a small sense of freedom, when most of her life she felt trapped with no control of where she was going. Watching clouds beneath them go by seemed therapeutic, and they must have been. The aura or 'presence' she felt from the familiar felt calmer, more tolerable. made Ilana more at ease than usual. Staying merged with them could be taxing when all it wants to do is be unleashed, but with this brief time of peace, all was right with her. Puffy white clouds certainly beats the smog.

Ilana leaned on the rails of the starboard side, as she claimed that area as her little brooding corner. She was wearing her beige jacket over her scaly arms and vintage engineer hat atop her head. It was the usual fit when she wasn't out fighting. The leather jacket was about the only nice article of clothing she owned after all, she wouldn't risk messing it up in a street brawl.

She closed her eyes for a moment in her time of relaxation when Mischa's unyielding chatter found it's way to her ears. Ilana opened her eyes once me in a glare to see Mischa zipping around the ship. Sounded like she was talking to herself, or perhaps the ship, either way it bugged Ilana a little, but she tried to not let it get to her. Even when she went around shouting for Rat, Ilana stayed to herself. "Just my luck." She said to herself. "I'm in the company of these two loud mouths. Again."

She looked over to see Mischa once again bothering Dalton, and it wouldn't even be the first, or even second time, and although Ilana's tendency to clock is high, this fresh air was reminding her of the whole 'inner peace' thing she heard so much about.

With her chin resting in the palm of her hand, she turned her head towards Mischa and spoke to her for perhaps the first time. "Now, where do you get off being so chipper? It's not like we're going on vacation, y'know." Who would have guessed that the first thing out of her mouth would be cold. So much for Inner peace. To Ilana this really was just a job, and one that could get her what she was seeking in the first place. A nice Centurion title would serve the girl well, even if she has to put up with people who cramp her style.

Emphoa Jet

 

[EldridSmith]

Zulan got onto the ship and quickly found himself somewhere he could sit unhindered as they traveled on the ship's deck, considering the anchors were the main thing a the bow, he wouldn't be in anyone's way. He wanted to see the world, even if there wasn't much to see he would enjoy the sights from the sky. The happenings in the colosseum were still etched into his mind as he pondered things. Soon he was joined by Kilderkin who he started watching carefully as a force of habit from his days as a soldier, though his wariness was unlikely to diminish considering he would be considered a deserter should he fail to complete this mission and become a centurion. He nodded to her as she approached the short man who sat down at the bow.

At the offer of a handshake he stood up and looked up at Kilderkin as he took her hand to shake it. He nods to affirm his name as he lets her continue speaking. They went on talking for a bit talking about his fight. From how they talked they seemed a bit... off and silly at first but with a bit of instinct which had kept him alive and a hunch from what he saw of her fight from a TV in the marketplace, it was possible they were putting on an act but he really couldn't be sure. He wasn't given much room to respond so he patiently waited for them to finish but he shook his head on having knowledge of Xysma. "I am from lands conquered by Nahzir, I know little outside of Africa. Though I too am glad to not have to fight someone so skilled in acting and self control." He says with a slight smile as he looks up at her. "Would you like some tea?" He inquired as he pulled out two earthenware cups and a bag of leaves. It was likely they would have much to discuss before finding the others.
Fred Colon (Same group as: rozukitsune ManofManyRoles )

 

[Fred Colon]

First O'Gardener and now this one? She knew she wasn't giving anything away physically. But she supposed this world was filled with all types of people. Perhaps he was just guessing. It didn't really matter. Never break character, even when people were onto you. Even if someone has you figured out, continuing the act can make even the most certain doubt themselves.

"Well, I talked to a newspaper man recently. He said I was going to be in the paper. So that's kind of like being an actor, I guess. How did you know?" Kilderkin said jovially. "I'd love some tea!"

She held out her hand for the cup, and waited for him to pour. As she did, she continued talking.

"Nahzir, huh? I've docked in some ports around there. I liked Addis Ababa. Nice place! Good food. I was a sky sailor mostly around Zuanshi and Byzantium, and am originally from Albion, but I've been all over. Perks of the job." She grinned, "How're things to your liking out here, then, if you haven't been out of Africa much. I wish things were a bit better for sightseeing, but you just gotta go with the flow, as they say." She puffed her chest out proudly. "If you've got some questions, I can answer em! Well. Only about places with Sky Ports. But hey, better than nothing, right? And we'll be learning about this Xysma place together, which is nice."
EldridSmith ManofManyRoles rozukitsune

 

[ManofManyRoles]

Charlie Redding
If having a pissy attitude was all it would take to spook Charlie off, then Renn would have perhaps had a much easier time being by herself. Alas, a poor attitude wasn't going to do Renn any favors in getting rid of the woman beside her, considering the fact she probably could have called her a filthy so-and-so and Charlie would have shrugged. "Cheers, Renn," she replied simply, fingers releasing the candy-stick they'd been grasping once Renn had her own grasp of it. Reaching down the now free hand towards the Pitohui, she let the bird perch up on her hand before she guided it over towards her shoulder, the corvid finding a new perch once again, if only for Charlie to draw her other knee up to her chest, both arms laying across the top of her knees now.

"Eh?" She stared at Renn like she was growing a second head out of the nape of her neck, a slow blink as she processed what the hell she just said. "Piss off, yer tellin' me you've never had a lolly? Shite, and hear I thought I had the rough growin' up. Here." She reached into a pocket of her leather jacket before producing another, offering it over to Renn with another little waggle between thumb and forefinger, "Take one for the road then. Tryin' to quit smokin', keep too many of these damn things on me anyways. So were you part of the ah...games of whateverthefuck? I'd been at the arena asking about somebody, didn't think it'd lead to this."

​

Mentions: rozukitsune
In same scene as: Fred Colon EldridSmith

 

[Emphoa]

Rat, speak of the devil, was summoned by the calling of his name. The engineer taking his time to snoop around the ship with Remy on his shoulder- and see what he might have been able to find to be able to tinker around with. A hand came up to brush through his messy hair, snorting out as he managed to slip away from his hiding place to trot up to join with Mischa- giving a little wave to the sailors and so before he looked back at the red head with a small grin on his expression. "I've been scavenging- you know, as rats do of course, right Remy?" He snorted out, and his familiar simply twitched his whiskers as a response.

He found a good place for him to plop down- chuckling a little bit when Mischa asked the strange woman to hit the captain, and his brown eyes twinkled lightly as he looked back over towards Ilana and he whistled when she did finally seem to be able to speak and he gave her a goofy little grin. "You have to know when to find the joy in simple things like this! If you live your life being miserable and unimpressed the world isn't as fascinating." The boy gave a little shrug of his shoulders, that playful smile still lopsided on his expression before he looked back towards Mischa.

Really, though, he was still worried about her. He knew she was still grieving, he just hoped that she wasn't just pushing it to the side for too long- he knew she could likely take care of herself... But it didn't stop Rat from being concerned anyway. "Besides- we all deserve to have a good laugh and enjoy our time together, it could be brief, or it could be a lot of fun anyway- even if its not a vacation." He clapped his hands together, brightening up as he looked back towards the two women with a grin still plastered on his face. "Besides that- good to know youcan actually talk. You ignored us back in the locker room, were we that annoying?" He chuckled out, the engineer sitting back as he crossed his arms over his chest.

Jet ZackStop ManofManyRoles

 

[Emphoa]

Adamaris was one thing- loyal, most of all to the one piece of their family, their one friend that they still had. Thus, when Elriel stated to go, they took no issue with following after his movement, to the king of Nye himself, yet they didn't find themselves to be impressed... They just knew that they would need to do this- that they needed to find out why and who did this. Their hand cupped around the crystal they had been given, and they frowned and wondered what it could have meant- was their opponent... apart of all of this? They were unanswered questions, but ones they did not dare to speak.

They only regretted, as Elriel made arrangements for his father's body to be returned home, that neither of them would be able to attend the man's funeral... That they were never able to see him, and speak to him again- to tell him what happened to their family. They only hoped that his spirit would rest well, and that Elriel's mother's new burdens would not be too much to bear... They knew what grief was like, and they were not a stranger to how tightly its claws can hold you.

Now, they were relieved- as they opened their envelopes together, that they would not be separated and they were thankful for it. Their eyes twinkling warmly as their gentle gaze moved over to fixate on Elriel. "I am thankful as well, if anything- I do not wish to be apart from you again, now that I have found you." They spoke softly, tucking the envelope away and once more, silently thanking the universe for being able to give them such a chance to be alongside their old friend.

---

Settling into the ship- it was definitely a.. cozy fit, but they were not unused to odd sleeping quarters with the time they've spent on their own. Their eyes flitting over as Nueto positioned himself better on their shoulders and they offered up a small smile of reassurance to their friend as he looked more an unimpressed. "It could be worse, my friend." They spoke up- and their head jerked up when Zak revealed himself, grimacing a bit as they thought about their... past encounter with the odd man.

"Hah, we can take shifts." They joked to Elriel, soon enough, their eyes twinkling gently as they searched their friend's expression. "... Do not worry, Elriel, things will be alright- and we do not have to deal with his antics too much, perhaps this will... help, both of us." They murmured quietly, for Elriel to hear before they listened quietly to the chattering of the others surrounding them and they let out a gentle hum, pursing their lips together as they straightened up their posture as they looked back at everyone.

They couldn't predict what the trip ahead would be like from here forward, letting out a breath as Elriel introduced himself and they dipped their head soon after. "Adamaris, despite said history, I look forward to working with everyone." They murmured, although their gaze lingered over Zak as they pursed their lips together, sighing at the boy's demeanor and how... aloof? He seemed to be, they weren't sure what to make of him, and admittedly they just hoped that Eriel would be able to tolerate his presence. At least while they were all working together.

Although, with that, they perked up when their friend whispered to them, and they offered up a small smile with a gentle nod. "How could I not bring it along? It is just you and I who are aware of it." They murmured quietly, their eyebrows furrowed for a brief moment before they looked over towards the others in the ship. "I don't know these individuals, and I'm not keen on trusting them with... such information just yet." They puffed a little bit at the thought, before they stepped over to take a look over the control panel and listen idly to the chatter around them as they offered up a small smile towards Mav. "I've got it." They stated, stepping over to help pick up her crutch and return it to her grasp. "I'm sure we'll trust your word, you two are closer after all."

ManofManyRoles Jet Goliath EldridSmith

 

[Jet]

Acadia was called Méros Fántasma by the locals; its ruins haunted by the restless spirits of the dead. Its streets were filled with their howls and the vast library, white pantheon and tower were their graveyards. The streets were a path of tears and the creeping vines, slowly reclaiming the city, were laden with suffering and sadness. It was not a place where life sprang eternal — or so the legends would have you believe.

But they were incomplete.

Acadia was not a dead city. There was a single spark of life within the winding roads and ruined buildings; a nameless town where hope could be found. Its people were hardy and worked hard to clear the rubble, replacing it with lush fields of wheat and barley — and using whatever they could, from salvaged stone to the trees growing in the streets, they built brightly colored homes with thatched roofs.

It was a pretty town filled with the laughter of children and young adults, but there was only one elder. His name was Isaac and every day he worked his farm, taught the youngsters and read books saved from the library. He was a simple man of simple means and today, like all days, he went outside at the crack of dawn.

​

"Hot," he said while stepping from his small orange house. "Growing season will be long this year." He waved at two passing kids and shifted up his backpack, grunting as pain lanced through his back.

Really?

He stepped down from the stoop and was greeted by the same pain in his knee. "You better not." He glared at his leg before walking down the dirt road, stopping on a dime when his hip started twitching. "I'll cut you off before you cripple me. I swear it by the old—

"Isaac!"

"Yes?" He turned to face a boy named Syvin; only twelve but already built like a house. "What is it?"

"People!" Syvin bent over panting. "People are here!"

"Yes?" Isaac said. "What kind of people are they?"

"How am I supposed to know?"

"Are they…" Isaac scratched his head. "Traders?"

"No!"

"Bandits?"

"No Sir!"

"Eghhh," Isaac groaned. "Remind me, why did you come here again?"

"Tysra told me to!"

"In that case." Isaac slowly approached the boy. "My back hurts, I can't make it without a cane."

"I don't have one!" Syvin looked around with panicked eyes. "Where should I find—

"On second thought," Isaac chimed. "I've a better idea."

—​

There was a crowd at the gates Yua and Felix were approaching. They murmured like maniacs debating why they were being visited, and who exactly was behind it, and several men said they'd attack. Then a shouting off started between two brothers and of course, as it always went, they soon punched each other silly.

"Stoooooop!" Isaac shouted from afar, his form shrouded in a dust cloud. "You idiooooots!"

The crowd stopped bickering and looked at their leader, squinting as he came into view.

"Is that?" one said.

"Is he?"

"No way," another said as Isaac, in all his glory, barreled towards them on Syvin's back, mushing the young man like a horse.

"Stop fighting!" The old man jumped from his mount and rolled once before springing to his feet, just as his hip finally cramped. "Seven hells!" He grabbed the muscle as Yua and Felix approached town, undoubtedly wondering why it was filled with idiots.

ManofManyRoles

 

[ManofManyRoles]

Yua Smith
ユア・スミス

A short ways away from the blossoming township, no more than a brief jaunt really, a craft had come to rest after a substantial journey. Simple and elegant, it looked unassuming enough on the exterior, an aesthetically pleasing look that employed minimalist design to full effect. The interior, however, was lined with the finest furnishings and technologies money could buy. A simple security system to deter an attempt at breaking and entering the craft, soft beds, a kitchen...if one's heart could desire it on a small craft, it could be found here. But just getting the craft here had been the challenge. The West was considered an exclusion zone, very few willingly travelled here. One needed proper permissions and granted passage, among a number of things. And yet, Felix had found a way to accomplish just that. She shouldn't be surprised, her butler had been able to work miracles at the drop of a hat, but this was a new level of...just wow.

....Should they turn around? Was it too late to go back home? The young blonde's heart hammered in her chest, anxiety seeking to cause her to crawl out of her very skin. She felt so out of place, like this was a mistake. She wanted to make a difference in places that really needed it, so the rumors of a blossoming township was worth seeing if medical expertise would be welcomed. But she'd heard every ounce of how dangerous it was here. Granted, she'd never seen something Felix couldn't overcome, but what was she going to do if he got separated from her!? "H-Hey Felix? I think I'm not feeling well. Maybe I should go back and lay down?" "Ah, is that so, Miss Smith? Are we sure it's not a case of cold feet, ma'am?" Yua's cheeks turned a bright crimson, looking towards the ground she trod upon. "N-no, it's just-" "If I should recall, ma'am, you insisted I keep you to your word. In no uncertain terms was I to make sure you didn't 'turn around and run', per your own words." The slim blonde gave a little shaky sigh, nodding her head. She couldn't turn around and run, even if her anxiety insisted yes, yes you can do that.

And so, with encouragement from the old butler and what little courage the wall-flower had to offer they trode on. At least she wasn't one of those heiress who was afraid of getting dirty or making a mess of her attire. Smartly dress in khaki hiking pants and a breathable khaki button-up top to match, she knew better to go on this expedition in a blouse and skirt. Beside her, Felix insisted on staying dressed in his full uniform, a rapier firm against his side. She just need to distract herself until the town came into sight? But how was she going to do that!? Felix, for his part, knew exactly when his young charge was on edge. And, among the many skills a butler had to adopt, was learning how to put one at ease. "How has Mister Jones bee, ma'am?" She looked over to him, a curious look on her face. "U-uhm...who?" "The young gentlemen you were seeing, ma'am." "O-oh...Oh! Yes, yes him! He uhm...dumped me?" "Ah, terribly sorry to hear that Miss Smith. Did he say as to why he ended your relationship?" "He ahm...said I...didn't want to spend time with him." "And did you want to spend time with him?" "...Nooo? No, not really. I'm terribly with boys, I guess," she gave a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of her head as they walked, a prosthetic of ivory and gold running across her cranium before she lowered it. Realizing her potential error in words she quickly looked over to Felix. "Ah-hah! B-but, I'm sure I'll find just the one for me one of these days!" There was a thoughtful hum from the old man, a simple nod of his head. "I'm sure you will ma'am. We're here...and there's a welcoming party it seems." "What!? W-we're already there!?"

Coming down the road, both youth and elder could see a collection of figures ahead of them, Yua's eyes going wide as an older man made the most spectacularly...well it was an entrance. Though the curse of 'seven hells' caused her eyes to widen. Had he hurt himself!? Cold feet and jitters dissipated into concern as she sped up her walking, Felix matching her stride with ease as he pulled along a pair of luggage cases behind himself, both large enough to fit an adult inside and then some...thank the heavens for wheels on cases, though perhaps Felix would have carried them without much issue without them? "S-sir!? Sir, are you alright," she called out as they drew closer, her 'good' hand, the likes of flesh and bone raised in greeting, waving passively. With all of the commotion as they drew closer, there came movement from Yua's breast pocket before a reptilian head poked out to stare up at her in question as to why it's rest had been disturbed, the gilla monster's tongue flicking at the air in protest.

Jet​

 

[EldridSmith]

Ivan made his way onto the small ship, it was far too crampt in the hallways for his comfort as he made his way into the lounge area hauling his bags behind him. The small fellow who owned the ship had already taken his lance and put it somewhere on the ship, Ivan wasn't concerned and would look for it when it was time to leave. Considering it was the largest part of the ship this would likely be his residence for the remainder of the trip, he found a comfortable corner with the largest couch he could find and carefully sat down to not break it after putting down his luggage beside it. In the meantime others were doing their own things, once Ivan was situated he looked up to see what was going on with everyone else.

A posh man introduced himself in the standard fashion of the nobles of Valencia and the man next to him quietly introduced himself as well. Ivan grinned in response. "A pleasure to meet you Elriel and Adamaris, forgive me for not standing up to greet you the same the ship is... a tad tight for me." He says with shining eyes. "I am Ivan Berg, Knight of the order of Ashen Sons. I'll spare the boring politics as not everyone is interested in them but if you're interested I'm more than willing to explain my stance." He says cheerfully. "Still I have more than enough experience from living in both Byzantine proper and the west of the country to be a guide." Though he did notice they were murmuring to each other in the meantime about something.

On the other hand Ivan was oblivious to the young boy talking with the pilot in the other room before they entered. The noble then talked to the woman in the room leaving Ivan to look around at the place more before snapping his attention to the falling crutch causing him to stand up too quickly and slam his head against the ceiling. "Feikinstafir!" He blurts out the old norse curse before turning red in the face. "Ah forgive me forgive me, I meant not to speak profanely." He remarked before noticing that someone had already grabbed the crutch. At this he sat back down and rubbed his head and pulled out some semechki to snack on. "Would anyone like some?" He inquires as he pulled out more bags of sunflower seeds for everyone to snack on.
Jet Goliath Emphoa ManofManyRoles

 

[Arcanist]

Brynwyr Protheroe​

Brynwyr, surprisingly, was grateful for the guards’ arrival at the coliseum. Rhys had slowed in their rescue efforts until those with plumed helmets arrived to relieve them of it. Brynwyr was not sure how she would have pulled him away otherwise.

Their presence was demanded by Lord Vincent, the highest ruling power in Nye, and dutifully, they did not refuse the order. It was no different from their service to the Crown at home. Brynwyr wrapped an arm around Rhys, supporting him on their walk to the palace. He did not want Cleonard carrying him all the way there. He shared Jeston’s stubborn ambition to push forward, even through the worst of it. Rhys was refused any sort of absence, given he survived the wipe of people and their familiars, and with his own refusal of aid from Cleonard, Brynwyr played the protector once again. The one who had all her shit together.

The walk was long, and thinking there would be little time to discuss the matter of where things went from here, Brynwyr had to be the one to assume order.

“I imagine Lord Vincent will want us to investigate what has happened today,” Brynwyr started. Rhys did not answer, but she knew he listened. “Whatever he wants us specifically to do, I think it best you return home with your father.” His father’s corpse, more like. She tried not to cringe and thought to amend her careless wording. She caught Rhys’s look as if she had run through him with her blade.

“You cannot be serious,” he whispered, finding strength in himself to protest. “I cannot leave you alone with this burden. And I was left alive in the wipe. Surely that must mean something, that I must pour my energy into helping find the man behind this? Father would have wanted that.”

“You have been helping, Rhys. Uncle–your father, he would have been proud. But you are not expected to take this on your shoulders too.”

“That wasn’t what we were told.”

Brynwyr sucked her teeth. “You must grieve, Rhys, and you must handle your father’s estate and affairs. You need to return home if you can. Would you let your mother deal with this on her own?”

“And leave you to deal with your own grief by yourself?””

Brynwyr forced her arm not to tighten around the young man’s body. “You will go home, Rhys. I am a knight. I am worth two of us. More than that.”

“And what if you aren’t, Bryn?”

“If I am not, then I will ensure that I will be,” Brynwyr declared, harsh and authoritative. “I will make myself be worth a dozen swords in your absence, Rhys.”

“Then let me be half a dozen swords alongside you,” Rhys protested again. “Teach me how to be, so that I can be of use here. Let me help you.”

“You will help me by going home,” she hissed.

Rhys was silent, trudging along to the palace in her arms. The battle was far from settled, Brynwyr knew. He was a man who would not be cowed.

“I wish I had stayed home. I wish you had not brought us here.”

Rhys took the blade of words Brynwyr ran through him with and viciously cut through her in return. She acknowledged it, but did not answer. She would pull the blade out and let the blood run later. But now, she would walk with it lodged in her stomach, a new wound festering.

~~~

A week had passed, though, in all accounts, it felt like it had been months. Jeston’s body had been placed in the morgue alongside the waves that were recovered.

“It’s the busiest we’ve ever been,” she heard a mortician remark to someone. Rhys, saddled with the burden of his father’s death and the weight of thousands, overheard her and fell to his knees and hysterically sobbed. It took a string of words, one sentence, to decimate him. It was her job, Brynwyr told herself. You had to remain separate, impassive, to the dead. The job required it. Perhaps empathy was hidden there, in the folds, to be unravelled at the end of the day in private.

Otherwise, how could you remain impassive to the surge of death?

They were allowed to at least perform some of their funeral customs. Rhys stayed with the body, guarding it, as kin normally did for their relatives. He did not believe he was worthy of it if he abandoned his father’s body in the arena.

“This is no ordinary death,” Brynwyr reassured him, having brought food and water to sustain him. “You did not abandon him. You gave him dignity before you rushed to help others from facing the same fate. I think God will give you a pass on that.”

Rhys hummed some response, trying not to dig into the food like a starving animal.

Brynwyr stayed with him at times for company. He grabbed her hand if he believed he saw him breathing

“That happens sometimes,” Brynwyr explained. She could sense his disappointment.

“Did that ever happen with your mother?”

“Mm.” Brynwyr nodded. They did not speak for a while after that.

They were able to transport Jeston’s body, along with those of the rest of the retinue, back to Albion. They could not return with them, and Brynwyr could only imagine the anguish Jeston’s wife went through. She couldn’t risk sending Rhys home, not with Lord Vincent’s words following her.

“There are many who'd see you dead because of your station, most of all the men who attacked the arena, and I will not lose key soldiers to ill-advised field trips.”

She risked her mentor’s life, but she would not do the same for her cousin. It was easier to keep an eye on Rhys here. She feared he changed his mind when they were forced to part with the bodies, with the way he watched that ship go off without them on it.

But they had another ship to board, and new duties to attend to as agents of Lord Vincent. She managed to wrangle a place for Rhys with her to Old Umbria, which took some convincing as it was, given the liberties they were given with Jeston’s body.

Mentions: Jet Lost Echo EldridSmith ZackStop ​

The ship itself was a marvel; sturdy build, almost brand new, given the visage of a ship from somewhere along the late 1800s. The kind children saw as a picture in old story books of pirates facing up soldiers, and not dissimilar from the ones docking in Albion. A figurehead of a morbidly beautiful angel on the ship’s bow, pale with wings spread as if guiding the ship through the clouds.

It had the usual hubbub of a ship’s crew. A muscular woman, the captain, shouted the usual ship jargon to those in her crew to adjust sails and chart the course. That was what Brynwyr assumed anyway - she was no airship connoisseur, and had a better grasp of the land underneath her horse’s hooves than in the sky. Regardless, she watched the muscles in the woman’s arm flex and loosen with each turn of the wheel with selfish fascination.

Brynwyr peeled her eyes away at the sound of Rhys’s voice. It was not addressed to her, but to the Centurion that was assigned to them, Tessia. She knew a little about her - that she was charismatic and popular with the populace and beyond. The face of the Centurions. Any wonder if Rhys so eagerly spoke to her.

“...and how long do you think this civilization has been lost for? There’s such a sadness to it, all those people, and culture, and history hidden from time.”

That didn’t sound like the first question he had asked.

Brynwyr stayed put where she was, glancing over the edge of the ship. Most of the clouds had cleared, and she watched as they whizzed past thick, overgrown jungle. She could make out a few things in the scene nature had reclaimed since this civilization’s fall; the river that snaked through the jungle, and the crumbling rooftops of buildings that budded past the greenery.

What secrets lay dormant in a place that had been abandoned for so long?

 

[EldridSmith]

Zulan couldn't be certain whether they were continuing their ruse to throw him off their trail or if he was wrong... no it was unlikely he was so off on this one as he felt something, that primal gut feeling he couldn't shake off. Still mayhaps something else was amiss with his newfound companion. "Not what I meant but I shan't pursue it further then." He remarked as he placed a strange looking leaf in the cups and heated them up with his hands before pulling out the leaves and handing her, her cup.

"Must be pleasant to have seen so much of the world. I wish to see the world as well, I have much to see and think about. As for things here, cooler than normal but I am gladly not cold thanks to being a fire mage." He says before taking a ship of tea and placing his down. Crispy then climbed out from his hair and started swimming in the warm water drinking some themself. "This place is culturally different... perhaps more corrupt in some ways but more free at least. I am enjoying the views of the sea. As for where I've been, I was taken from my village once it was conquered and made a sacrifice at the frontline which I've been unable to leave until now so forgive me but I've not been to Addis Ababa." He explains. "Africa is beautiful but too many atrocities occur in those lands, many of them having had my hand in them even if unwilling." He says before taking a sip of his drink as Crispy climbed out to climb back into his hair. "Ah but forgive me such things will bore you. I am curious of the lands you've visited. I'm not entirely enthused about visiting a prison island, so it would be a pleasant distraction."
Fred Colon (Same group as: rozukitsune ManofManyRoles )

 

[Lost Echo]

Flashback: In the Stadium Tunnels
A collaboration of Lost Echo (Vixie), ManofManyRoles (Felix), and Jet (Bean)​

The man was speaking, but Vixie ignored it, focused on the fires and not tripping over the debris. Perhaps it wasn’t safe, bUT! The fox girl shrieked as she suddenly was airborne. Instinctively she struggled, trying to find support, when she was quickly held against a solid form, the body seeming to wrap around her. Clarity pierced through her headache and she ceased moving, wrapping her legs around him. She must have been slowing them down. Growling under her breath at herself, she tried to focus on the fires again (secretly pleased she’d kept them back instinctively in her distraction.) She would not be a burden. Or at least, more of one.

She was failing. She shouldn’t have come. Her thoughts were spiraling, her head trying to find something other than pain to focus on. She tried to pull out of her head, catching the man’s voice.

"King Arthur, is it not proper to charge into the blaze? Only cowards and fools dally, and neither constitute your name, my lord."

“I’d say fools charge.” She muttered in reply, then realized how that sounded like she didn’t want to go further which was true, “Charge away o’steed.” Her joke was punctuated with a yip as the gentleman neatly sidestepped part of the ceiling falling. They were all going to die. Even that prick Arthur.

Once more the soothing voice pulled her from her thoughts. She had to focus on his words to hear them over the roaring of the flames. Part of her worried, but he must be saying something important to say it now. Brushing off the madame with a quick eye-roll, she took in his message. Happiest moments? What? What made a memory great? Her academic mind started searching as if preparing for an essay, before

"...Your magic is born from yourself, and you are as strong as your mind allows. Think positive..."

And everything clicked. It was what made her her. Her parents’ support, letting her lead with a guiding hand. She hadn’t lost that. It was with her. And her friends--who’d promised to cover for her if she was late getting home. She had to get back to them. Even Nihal, who felt like a big brother she’d never had (now that she’d met him). He didn’t seem to have a lot of real people.

She’d tutored people. Kids who had trouble reaching for their element. She knew it was different for everyone. Hers had always been there, leaping at her fingertips to shine with passion in everything she did. This time, she had to reach deeper inside herself, for her core.

Closing her eyes, she gathered that ember close, fanning the flame to grow, to fill her. Her flames were more powerful than those outside. She opened her eyes with a gasp, her tails flaring out, a fourth joining them as she reached for the flames. She imagined, first just a sphere of space around them, telling the flames to encircle them, rather than merely pushing them back. Opening her eyes, she tried to elongate the bubble, following the orbs ahead. It was less successful, closer to headlights in front of a car than a tunnel to go through.

Still, it felt like only a few heartbeats had passed before they were there. The fire was happy to move, circling them, but it wanted to grow. Her ellipsoid flattened back into a sphere as they came to a stop. She’d been ignoring Arthur, even as the two bantered around her. His magic was powerful enough for him to be safe (even if she had no idea how). So she felt no guilt for forgetting about him. There were bigger things to deal with. She blinked at him, when he touched her shoulder, frowning in return of his smile. What was he waiting for?

She looked back at the entranceway, the heat penetrating her sphere, hot enough for discomfort and probably something like a sunburn (she always burned so easily) the longer they were in it. There was sludge at the bottom: what remained of the door. In its place was a wall of flames. It was likely the whole room was in flames. Reaching out, she murmured, “How has this not just exploded?”

As Felix pushed forward into the blaze with Vixie in his arms, the slightest of smiles could be found upon his lips as she seemed to take his words to heart, the fires bending to a will that was not their own, the blaze submitting to the desires of a younger soul than his own. "Excellently done, madame.” Felix’s tone was simple and polite as he spoke to her, glancing to his side to ‘Arthur’ as he approached, a pat to Vixie’s shoulder even as he helped keep her off the ground. Of course, he was reticent to directly help, it’d seem, that’d be far too easy for the lot of them. This close though, before the wall of hellfire itself and with the sludged remains of a steel door, Felix could feel the heat washing against his scales.

If he so much as set foot into the blaze now he’d turn into the finest impression of a corpse one could muster, and the old butler was bound and determined for this not to be a suicide mission for any of them. "It’s simple, really. Because it already has,” he replied in a somewhat glum tone to the question of how it hasn’t already exploded. Generators and natural gasoline were what was once within this room, and all it took was a spark to turn it into an inferno.

Felix glanced down to Vixie in his arms, a look of concentration as he weighed their options…and finally, he spoke again, looking towards his ‘King’. "Well spoken, my lord. We shall ensure we stem the problem at its source. As you said, the glory is ours to claim, but if I might humbly request you ensure we have a path to return back from? Surely one of your skill and renown can keep a path clear behind us, so long as we clear the way ahead ourselves.”

He looked towards Vixie then, shifting his grip to give her a comforting pat on the back before he addressed her, tone more comforting and fatherly than the dramatic prose he presented to ‘Arthur’. "Madame, I hate to suggest such a thing, but I require your aid a final time. We must go inside to kill the blaze, and save not just our own lives, but many others. If you can ensure we are not cooked alive, you will have my thanks and my word you will find my aid whenever you would seek it. I can kill the blaze proper, I just need to reach its source…can you get us there?”

Bean knowingly nodded like a mountain sage. "Well spoken my Lord! Well spoken indeed! You've hit the mark ten times over!" He faced the raging fires behind them, casually raising one of his hands. "Tis true I want to test her experience, but only to stifle the blaze standing before us. Not the one to our back." He snapped his fingers and then, like a light being flicked off, the fire behind them disappeared.

What a minute…something was wrong. Vixie listened to the strange tone of voice from this kind gentleman, still stuck on what he’d said to their third. You know, part of their team to stop this bullshit? And then the boy confirmed it. They wanted to test her? Already the fires seemed to strain from her control as her anger started to boil. Nausea pressed against the back of her throat, seemingly pushed upward by the rage. She tried to hold it back, shaking with the effort; any fire user knew not to let emotions control their flames--but then with a snap, half of them were gone.

It was then she’d lost control. Her spinning vortex swept by the pair, its momentum keeping it against the walls as it filled the newly created space once more. It was only a moment, the searing heat gone in a blink that she wrestled control back. She’d never been this angry before. “A test!” Her voice was sharp, near hysterical. “This isn’t some classroom! This is real life! We could die. This isn’t some game.” She was yelling over the old man’s shoulder, her voice raw. Shifting to look at his face, she pointed a finger right at him, “And you! If you knew he could just do that!! ARGH!” She gnashed her teeth, her vulpine instincts wanting to bite something in frustration. “And it’s VIV! Not Madame.” Her real nickname came out, but she didn’t even notice. Looking back at the boy, her finger followed her gaze. “No, you don’t. You don’t get to sit this one out. If you really want it to be a test, it’d be even more of one if I had to avoid burning you.” All of her derision was clear in her tone. “So why don’t you skippity-do into the room? Oh, King?”

Bean blinked several times in rapid succession, a smile creeping across his smug, sarcastic little face. "Skippity-do?" He snickered like a kid in a classroom, silent and breathless as he leaned against the wall.

"My oh my." He brushed tears from his cold, distant eyes, like he watched life from another dimension. "What a wonderful fuckin day innit?" He tossed away his oversized helmet and sword, shaking sweat from his hair like a dog. "This might not be a game to you, but me? You best wise up friend."

"Worst case I take a couple bumps n' bruises, brush me shoulders and fuck off, but you're meat for the grinder yeah? Another lump of nothin' diggin where ya don't belong."

"Beggin' poor old Bean for a handout, even though you came without me in the first place!" His sarcastic smile returned in full force, relishing the moment of conflict. The battle of wits and emotions, personalities clashing like swords. He'd always loved the feeling of tension in the air. The spark between two people with hatred in their hearts. It was one of two things that made him feel alive.

"But you've got spunk yeah?" There was a small, fleeting hint of admiration in his tone. "So how bout a wee little game?"

He supposed it was inevitable, truly only a matter of time, before the young miss lost control of her temper. He couldn’t blame her, she was in perhaps the worst moment of her life. Granted, he wasn’t the biggest fan of being barked out straight in the face, he was well beyond the stage of giving a damn in his life for such things. "I assure you, I did not know he could do that. I had a suspicion of who he may be, but never enough to go off of. And my apologies, Miss Viv. I didn’t have a name to address you by, forgive the formal informality…” He paused, the temperature behind them at least pleasantly decreased given Bean's aid on that front, looking at him square on. “I win, then.” It was a simple statement, one lacking malice or condescending tone…very matter-of-fact, indeed.

“If this was a game to you, Sir Bean, I was the last to break character. And every good game requires a winner, and a loser. I would suppose this makes me the victory of our little acting lesson, correct?” He finally returned his gaze towards Viv again…they could banter and claw at each other later, time was a precious commodity that they didn’t have much of. Though it was perhaps best he was here in this moment, if this moment should have to pass…someone needed a level headed member, that’s why people had butlers in part after all. “Miss Viv, I will not push you into this blaze if you refuse to help, and I do apologize for not communicating better. Though playing along did aid us, to a degree.”

Foxes are not aggressive predators. They hunt, but they’re always willing to take the easy route. But Vivian was human, and she could only see now the easy route was walking into that pit of hell without a word. That was no longer her greatest fear. This boy was. Every muscle strained in her attempt to not move as she stared, not at Arthur’s smile, but his eyes, forcing her drifting gaze still. There was something wrong with them. Emotionless, but screaming the truth: he did not care if they lived or died, and the only reason he wasn’t doing it himself is that he’d grown tired of just killing people.

She was trying to find the best route, knowing all that mattered was keeping him entertained. He said he liked that spunk, so she’d build on it. Pretend this was normal. Pretend it was okay. Maybe she should have started pretending earlier, but how was she to know? She’d been warned of course, about this feeling of helplessness. That the source could come from anywhere, but it wasn’t supposed to happen to her! She was a good girl…except she was here without permission.

Listening with one ear cocked toward the man, she nodded her acceptance, with a grimace at the pain, (embarrassed that he didn’t know her name either--had he also not introduced himself?). She was scared to say more, feeling down to her bones every movement was watched by the boy. Viv’s instinct (to flee and hide) wanted to include this man who had only been kind to her as a threat. But he was all she had down here. And vice versa. As strong as he seemed, she couldn’t convince herself that he could best Arthur. They’d have to play puppets to the monster’s strings. (Had he known that all along? Had he tried to warn her and she just missed it?)

But the monster wanted spunk. “I’d think we’d just come out as charcoal, not hotdogs,” her voice was shaky, but still solid, as she took his comment of being in a meat grinder literally. “Not something that goes with Beans.” She was about to agree to the game, not sure how else to keep the monster happy when the gentleman spoke to the monster instead. Relief flooded her at his reasoning. He had stayed in character the longest. Now, was the boy the type of child to follow the rules of a game? Or did he just want to win?

Returning her focus to the gentleman, she nodded, “Of course I’ll help.” With this new predator in front of her, the flames seemed less scary. At least they didn’t want her dead. They were just existing.

Bean groaned as they carried on like a pair of old friends, never a shortage of words between them. He couldn't exactly ignore them either. His brain had the annoying habit of noticing anything and everything, even the most boring shit imaginable. It was a blessing in some cases, but with these meatheads? It was a curse he desperately wanted to escape.

He could only pretend to ignore them, perusing the walls like a connoisseur in a gallery. His pace slow and meandering. "Games and games, love me some games." He traced his hand over the charred, crumbling wall as he approached the doorway, stopping mere inches from the blaze. "You can have the win, old man, but it's best two of three." He reached into the fire with a mischievous smirk on his face, barely noticing the intense heat. "So I'll take your offer Viv."

"I'll go in there myself, but if you hit me with fire?" He pulled his hand from the blaze. Within was a small, condensed sphere of glowing fire. "I'll pack it in nice n' tight, and if it gets too big?"

"Boom." His eyes widened with excitement. "But if you win? I'll owe ya one small favor; anything from torchin a city to bodyguardin, just call and I'll come running."

Vivian’s eyes were wide, reflecting the flames. Her ears weren’t back--she was no dog--but they were stiff atop her head. It was her tails that gave away most of her unease, twisting together as if clinging to a lifeline. She watched his skill, reaching through the fire like air, but couldn’t see how that was possible.

He emerged with a sphere of fire, that she could just feel the pressure of, wanting to explode. How would he put that out afterward? She was surprised at the prize, but she knew she would agree regardless. What other choice did she have?

She swallowed. “Okay. So I don’t hit you with fire,” she wondered about anything else, remembering the falling timbers from before, but was scared to voice it. “And I have to get Sir Merlin here, close enough to work whatever magic he has planned to put this thing out. Right?”

Felix remained silent, for a time, allowing Viv and Bean to engage with one another. After all, what more did he really have to say on his part at the moment? No, it was better to watch and listen. Bean was more than capable of caring for himself, the older man’s mind was more so preoccupied with the safeguarding of the young girl he was carrying. “A fair summary, Miss Viv. I’ll need to get near the fuel source, where the oil container was kept. It’s, unfortunately, in the back of the room. I’ll only need a minute from there.” Felix’s orbiting ‘stars’ formed into one larger one once again, used as an unnatural flashlight for the smoke and haze ahead of them. “You have my gratitude for your aid, young miss. I will ensure your faith in me is not misplaced.”

Bean's familiar crawled up his chest and skittered down his back, went around his hip and up his chest once again, and he rhythmically clicked his tongue like a drum. "Right then! Seems you've got the rules down pat!" He impatiently ran into the burning room, a cloak of white fire around his body. He was immune to his own magic and so, when surrounded by foreign flames it was a good defense.

"Come on old chap! Water's balmy like the shores of Valencia!" He made a dragon from the fire around him, built like a snake with small pointy wings. He orchestrated its movement like the maestro of a symphony, hands fluttering back and forth like the wind. "Both so sluggish and slow! Make me wait and the bomb will blow!" His dragon gracefully twisted and turned overhead, beautiful as it was deadly, with a ten meter length and one meter width. It would serve as another challenge for the well spoken old man, one the centurion hoped he would conquer.

Viv’s eyes widened as the snake-like creature grew, and grew. Keeping her voice steady, she added another rule, “You keep your magic to yourself. No heating up the fires we’re putting out.” She had a hand on her hip, as if that would make her more authoritarian. “We already know you’re stronger than me, there’s no fun in that.” The snake kept growing, filling that room that had already seemed too small. She swallowed, closing her eyes on the serpent, and reached for the fire within. She knew she couldn’t do everything at once. Instead, she gathered the flames around the door. Holding them back to begin with, she murmured, “I’m ready.”

Felix paused for but the briefest moment at the doorway, a gentle pat at Viv’s back in an effort to offer some form of comfort. He couldn’t imagine what sort of dread this girl faced. What background did she hail from? Did her parents know where she had been? Such simple curiosities were oft the most important, for sometimes such curiosities could help embolden one’s resolve. She must have been scared for her life, surrounded by such a blaze. And yet, he could not be more impressed. Such bravery from the teen thus far, for after all she was the only one of those he’d asked to help him who came with him. Indeed, bravery was not defined by fool-heartedly charging into danger with glee like Bean…that was not bravery, it was madness. No, bravery was how fear gripped this girl's heart, and she still agreed to soldier on.

“You have my word, I will keep you safe. Only focus on keeping our path clear, no more, no less.” It was a simple promise, one greeting with a surprisingly warm and calm closed-lipped smile from the older male before he turned his attention towards the flaming wyrm and the boy who conjured it. “I never did care for Valencia’s waters, unfortunately,” he dryly remarked. And then, without a bit of hesitation on his part, he pushed his way into the path Viv made through the flames for him, focus split between the easiest path Viv could carve for them, and that dreadful dragon he would have to dodge. The boy wanted a game, a fine show perhaps, and the wizened butler wasn’t about to disappoint. The goal was clear, to stop the blaze and ensure they all left alive, everything else would be secondary to him. And he’d rush headlong into that blaze as quickly as Viv could part it for him.

Bean frowned as he said, "Heat them up?" He scoffed at the ridiculous thought. "I would never, ever cheat!" His voice was surprisingly innocent and pure, but there was a small hint of annoyance too. "Only sore losers do that kinda thing!"

"I'll win without any cheesing, thanks very much!" His dragon dove towards the ground like a veteran dive bomber, twisting and turning as it approached the old man. "Looks like geezer is back on the menu boys!" His dragon opened its mouth and revealed sharp, dense fangs of white flame, meant to annihilate the old man. "And the first round goes to!" He grinned as the dragon snapped its burning maw, trying to chomp the experienced butler.

Vivian felt that the whole dragon going to eat them thing, was not agreed upon and therefore cheating. Could this man who strode so bravely into the fire with no more protection than his scales (who’d heard of snakes being fireproof—wait, was he a dragon without fire?) actually be spry enough to dodge that massive sna—oh, hey, look at that, it had wings—dragon? “That dragon seems like something to worry about too.” She told her magician.

She didn’t have time to argue, as the man entered the room. The fires parted easily, even if it felt as if her hands were shaking with them in her grasp. Then she felt it. The heat that Bean could produce scorched through any of the flames around him. It was like he was the sun, in her face, and the others were as distant as stars. As it loomed ahead of them, she shrieked, burrowing her head into the neck of her savior and thrusting a hand out to try to push the flame upward.

There was no point in arguing with one like Bean, a teen so determined to get his way that he would play whatever tune fit his own merry melody. And in this case, his ‘way’ was a demented game within this fire…easier to go with the grain than against. Where Viv was terribly on edge and no doubt high on adrenaline, the butler kept a stoic demeanor about himself, brow furrowed in concentration, lungs having to work with ‘cleaned’ air through the simple mask he’d sported for himself.

The dragon was a new element, but one he’d overcome with, with some difficulty granted. ”I’ll deal with the dragon, focus on keeping our path clear, please,” he requested simply, still weaving through whatever path Viv could carve for him onwards. Out of the corner of his eye he could see that damnable drake swooping down to make a quick meal of them both. He could feel that heat pouring off of it, enough that the hardened scales covering his own body could feel the burn as well. He’d been in many situations in his life…but this was a new one. But, perhaps, Bean underestimated just how big a powergap existed between the two of them. He just needed a moment…and that’s something he could get. His element was poor for defense, he couldn’t erect walls or create barriers, nor could he drench the flames. But it was second to none in speed…and sometimes the finest defense was a good offense.

As that dragon came down and Viv screamed, Felix didn’t so much as raise his hand in those few seconds that would determine life or death. A moment of intense focus before Bean, and perhaps even Viv, would see a large cobra of light form right before the dragon, between the hunter and hunted. Without so much as a sound it shot forward towards the beasts ‘neck’ for just that briefest moment of magic to collide. And in that moment, Felix would swap his momentum from one foot to the next, lunging towards the beast’s maw to skim right beneath it in a low dive. Of course, such a dive meant Viv would be wrapped in an even tighter bearhug as the old man had to quickly recover to his feet, continuing his journey towards where the oil container once would have been. ”Just have to clear the room, Miss Viv…we can do this,” he encouraged. Stoic though he may be, he was no spry young squire like he once was. He could have done all of this fine and dandy in fairer weather, but with his mouth gagged and smoke clinging to the eyes, it made it harder to get the air he needed to keep this sort of acrobatics up. But he’d get them through this, that was his promise. And then…he would need a chance to recover, that much was certain.

"Bravo my dear friends! Bravo!" Bean let his dragon disperse into glowing, flickering dots of white fire. They floated through the room like cotton seeds on the wind, but there was one little difference. These were proximity mines. "Don't get too close now! Wouldn't be fun to win like this!" He watched the man weave through the room like a scurrying roach, trying his best to survive the little gauntlet.

"So many flickers but only two eyes in me head, might be hard for me to control em!" He chose one of the flickers that was close to them, but not close enough to do any damage. The perfect range to scare them silly. "Oops! Me finger slipped." The dot exploded with a flash of white fire, sending a shockwave through the room.

"Oh boy." Bean looked up as cracks spread through the ceiling. It wasn't enough to completely collapse the structure, but it would be a pain in the ass. "Does this count as cheating?"

He merged with his familiar as concrete fell from above, raining down like gray meteors. "Naaah; this is more like a handicap." He punched a large concrete block with his main claw, shattering it with a clean, blindingly fast movement. "Well then," he said as another block fell. "How are my favorite friends doing?"

How? How would he ‘deal’ with the dragon? His element was light! Sure, it was useful in this hell hole of shadows but light wasn’t really physical. Just then she was blinded through her closed eyes by a brightness that probably illuminated the entire room. She felt the dragon dissipate. She sighed in relief, promising herself to ask what Merlin did when there was a chance.

Then one of those embers, which she had assumed would go out, flared near them. Causing her to push at it instinctively, as she raised an arm to cover her head. But then, even over the roars of fire, she heard it. The ceiling cracking. As if this couldn’t get any worse. She heard Bean ask if it was cheating, but to be honest, Vixie wasn’t sure if she’d done anything to it herself, so she kept quiet beyond muttering, “Oh look, we’re his favorites.”

She needed to focus, to hurry. She could feel the mass of heat in front of her that must have been the source. Instead of just pushing the fire away around them, she slowly started to spiral the fire, the center expanding into a full tunnel to the oil cans. There. Now would it be clear long enough for Merlin to make it?

Felix grit his teeth, jaw clenching as the concussive blast wave reverberated through the room and his very skeleton, a terribly unpleasant feeling he had no desire to repeat. Now he had to weave through a literal minefield and the blaze within. For the briefest of moments, he couldn’t imagine this becoming more bothersome…at least until he glanced up at the sound of groaning stone and masonry, blocks starting to come down. Ah, of course, the good law of Murphy…if it can get worse, it certainly will.

"Not dead yet,” he plainly remarked to Bean in retort, though he wasn’t certain if he’d hear his even keeled tone through the blaze and cloth ‘scarf’ he sported. A section of masonry came down ahead of them…no good, to their left and right was more of these blasted mines. As he rushed along he shifted his grip on Viv, a hand raising ahead of him as a large beam of light shot forward and shattered the masonry ahead of him into smaller rocks, the likes of which he could easily survive with them knocking against his scaled hide.

"I’d consider us lucky, then. I can’t imagine what he does to those he dislikes,” he remarked to Viv’s comment, an odd moment of levity to all of this. The heat ahead of them was remarkable, and not in a wonderful sort of way. No, he couldn’t get them too close, but they were certainly on the target now. Thankfully Viv had yet to let this dynamic duo the two of them formed down. The blaze twisted into a funnel, a spiral that would grant him entry towards his target. A dozen feet…half a dozen…a few more rushed steps before he changed his momentum, skidding to a halt on heated ground as he raised that free hand up again towards the ceiling.

“Well done, Miss Viv,” Felix said simply, a beam of light flying towards the ceiling before splitting into several smaller beams, piercing through the stone and supporting structure around the core of this blaze. At first it seemed like a nonsensical move, large gaping holes in stone…at least until the ceiling began to give way and cave downwards, Felix already starting to backpedal and run out of the way, once again clutching Viv in both hands as the stone came down with heavy crash and thud. He didn’t have water to douse the flames, nor the ability to burn them out himself. But every fire needed air to breathe…and just like a giant campfire, if you cover the source in dirt and stone, it’d be smothered all the same.

Bean raised his hands like a pianist before playing, channeling his energy into every spark, every ember and lingering flame. "Surely, you don't think it's that easy?" His mines expanded until they were like huge balloons, shaking like volcanoes as he said, "It's been a fantastic game!"

He clenched his hands and then, subverting expectations as he always did, the balloons dispersed into butterflies made of fire. They floated away with the gentle fluttering of orange, red and white wings, before dissipating like dust on the wind. "Well done." He slowly clapped as the fires around them, lingering and weak, vanished into nothingness. The room was blackened like burned meat and nothing was recognizable, but the mission was done. The game was lost and Bean couldn't be happier.

"Knew you had it in you!" His familiar skittered over with his helmet in tow, passing it to Bean who, in proper Bean fashion, slapped it back on his head. "Verily! My retainers never fail!"

Vixie turned away from the exploding mines, hiding her face into the crook of Merlin’s neck and started to cry. Of course he was still going to kill them. He was psychotic! It had been over. She could feel the fire beneath the fallen rubble weaken and start to smolder. Without air, she knew it would die in time. Would they die first? Would it hurt? She sobbed harder as he praised the game before killing them. But the resentment made her think. Could she do what he did to keep safe from the fire? At least she could try. But when she raised an aura around the pair, she realized. All the fire was out.

Dropping her magic to evaporate into the dry air, she raised her head in wonder. “We’re not dead?” she croaked, confused. He didn’t kill them? She tugged off her mask, the dry air still rough but better than the disgusting piece of fabric. She wiped the sweat off her face with the back of her hand, smearing soot across her cheek, a blotch of ink vaguely looking like Nyaal’s name on the other.

“Thanks, Arthur.” She said, possibly in response to his confidence, more for not murdering them. Then she rested her head back onto Merlin’s damp shoulder, muttering, “Can we go now? My head really hurts.”

Felix skid to a screeching halt as Bean challenged the concept of success, his mines growing in size. Stoicism as he may be, Felix internally had to ponder if this was it. Bean had stated he didn’t cheat, but he wasn’t above adding new rules. As Viv began to cry abd sob into his shoulder, the fine fabric messied with soot and now tears, a hand raised up to cup the back of her head, other arm supporting her weight. Moments ticked by as he considered how to make it out of this if Bean wanted a new rule…such thoughts turned out to be not needed.

A tightness that had wound its way in his chest finally relaxed as those large balloons of a blaze turned into butterflies, the old man’s brow relaxing from its otherwise stern and stoic appearance it’s curled into. "Well played, Sir Arthur,” he replied simply. Once again showcasing his skillset, the fires sputtered out finally, Felix raising a hand to his face to tug down the cloth bandana he wore, black scaled skin doing wonders at hiding the sheer amount of soot and smog that clung to him. "We’re not dead, Miss Viv. Quite the opposite. Chin up, now. Let the air clear a bit, then deep breathing to clear the mind.” With the core of the blaze put out, the rest would sputter out in short order he was sure. Viv had helped him put out a monstrous fire, and saved her friends in the process, as well as many others…he’d have to remind her of that badge of honor when he had a chance. "Yes, I think we can go now. It’s been quite a day.”

 

[Fred Colon]

Kilderkin sipped her tea, and looked 'quizzically' at Zulan. Kilderkin knew about some of the things going on in Africa. She had contacts that were quite interested in the territory. Such strife was often an opportunity. But 'Kildi' probably wouldn't have heard much more than rumors.

"Sacrifice? I know fighting happens, but sacrifices? Huh. Never woulda guessed from the sky ports. I'm glad your out of it! Nye definitely seems pretty free to me! Though, naturally, nothing is quite as freeing as a good skyship. Going where you please, so long as you avoid the pirates, naturally. I've been all over, but Zuanshi is the place that I spent the most time. Shanghai's my favorite. You can find damn near everything there. People from all over the world landing and hopping off their ships for a drink or a bite to eat. If you're a friendly sort, you can make lotsa friends!" Which was true, to a point. You could also end up gutted in an ally if you tried to make 'friends' with the wrong person. Shanghai was certainly... metropolitan. Criminals from all over the world made their home there, and that was the reason you could find anything in that city. Literally anything. It was a city that, rather than merely having a dark underbelly, was mostly just dark underbelly with a few tourist districts for travelers and expatriates, and some upper class residential areas in the east where the *really* rich crime lords lived. The Tianglong docked there frequently to sell their ill gotten goods.

"And then if you like nature, you should check out Zhangjiahie," Kilderkin said, pronouncing the Chinese name perfectly. "It's a big ol' forest with these huge pillars of stone sticking outa the ground! I saw it by airship a couple times."

Kilderkin would chatter a while about places she's seen, mostly in Zuanshi and Byzantium, but in other parts of the world as well. This, at least, wasn't a lie. Kilderkin had been all over the world.

"But yea." She said, finishing off her tea. "The prison island is probably not going to be as nice as some of those places. But I'm sure we'll be in and out, lickety split. Then we'll be centurions, and we'll be able to go where we want. You got any particular combat talents? Hopefully we won't have to fight nobody, but it'll be nice to know what my buddies here can do. I'm a good sword fighter!" She patted the cutlass at her waist, the elaborate scrolling on its hilt catching the light, its sheathe fine and emblazoned with golden patterns that matched the compass rose tattoo that one could see radiating from Kilderkins shoulders and up her neck.

EldridSmith ManofManyRoles rozukitsune