Fantasy The Great Games of Nye

[Arcanist]

Faraji Aguta

Mentions: Goliath Jet Lost Echo Anne Boolean

​

Better than nothing; Faraji would take that. He would not let on details as to his level of skill compared to his compatriots, but he was not wholly inept at fighting. Ice was versatile after all, and the mix of elements in their group could prove useful in their group. Perhaps they were not wholly incapable.

Faraji raised his eyebrows at Nyaall, but he still smiled at him, nonetheless. He would have – and still did – answer many things like he had quipped back at him, though, that was reserved for someone he really wanted. He could not scold him for such flirtatious behaviour when he did it himself, but he chose not to humour it. Stars shone their brightest with a hand-crafted personality and behaviour like that in the public.

And by the sounds of it, he was glad to get away from it, the contract that bound him. Out of the frying pan, into the fire.

Farajj was content to listen to those around him exchange verbal blows and snipe at each other. For once, he was glad the attention was not on him. But it meant he was left to think more on the inevitable in entering the Undercity, the line they wall walked in acting as the route of their death march. And the people he found himself with. Some capable of this kind of job, and others downright crazy. Even Faraji found Bean could make him uneasy.

And especially so with the number of Centurion deaths.

“Seven?” Faraji repeated, though, he heard correctly. He made a face at Nyall’s confidence that a Centurion would protect them, despite being told that seven had been murdered. “I must say, I admire all of your…confidence,” he murmured, most especially to Nyall and Vixen. It was clear he did not share such a sentiment, and he didn’t feel ashamed to either.

“Regardless, yes. We’ll look out for each other, as best we can…” He tried to sound at least a little optimistic for the younger ones’ sake. If seven were taken out so swiftly, how the hell was one meant to defend them at all? Even if it was the craziest of them?

“Perhaps we can find some souvenirs to bring back with us,” Faraji joked, “to tell tales of our wonderful time down in the dregs of Nye.” He watched Bean’s familiar slide onto Goliath’s shoulder and grimaced at how slimey it looked. He thought about bringing Lapis out, but then everyone would be victim to his squawking the whole way down the tunnel. Mixing that with the claustrophobia of the tunnel…

Which the redhead male seemed less than chipper to be in. It was a rather enclosed space, and the bodies that populated it didn’t make the experience any more pleasant. He listened to him mumble something about Trapmaws, and he wondered if it would help to ask to distract him on, “You’ve seen plenty of creatures with the contracts you’ve taken on, yes? Any ones of particular note that have interested you? Put up a challenge?”

 

[EldridSmith]

Zulan stood up and nodded to Kilderkin's comment, curious where their centurion was, but that was the end of his curiosity as they would meet when they met. Zulan himself could be considered a ranged fighter as with his boots he himself was a projectile. Kilderken then offered to help Renn with her swordplay, something Zulan could only help with by being a sparring partner of a different fighting discipline.

Renn seemed to perk up after everyone offered to help in their own ways and compliments were given, which was good, low morale would lead to an ineffective team member even if they were highly skilled, but more importantly he was glad she was feeling alright. Thankfully she seemed to be a healer, he'd never seen a fire element healer before but as long as she could help some it was enough. If she could stomach it he would help show her basic first aid later. "That's fine, we'll aid as we can, and some healing is better than none."

Charlie still seemed rather wary and distrusting of the group, but many people had been betrayed before so he couldn't fault her for it especially having just met. Especially wary of Kilderkin like he was, at least his suspicion wasn't alone. She was concerned about the centurion causing trouble in the prison, and less than enthused about them, to put it lightly. At least she had a sense of humor to her as she talked about Renn's familiar.

Speaking of familiars, Zulan reached his arm out and Crispy scuttled to his hand where he held him and pet him with his free hand. As a whistle rang out from the ship he looked up to see a newcomer join the group. She had a very white owl on her shoulder and had he been less perceptive he could have mistook her for a slender man. At this he realized he was surrounded by women, considering cultural differences he would likely have to tread carefully, as in his village and most of Nahzir, his barbone clothing wasn't seen as abnormal, but here perhaps it would be seen in a negative light. He had no clue, but at this rate it was better to be safe than sorry.

The new woman was late for admiring the ship, saying it was such fine work before looking for confirmation, to which Zulan nodded. She then said she may recognize a few from the games, which he nodded to as well. She then introduced herself as Evaline and inquired of their names. "Zulan Amadi Jawara, nice to meet you." He said with smiling eyes akin to a campfire's warm embrace. "This is Kilderkin, the sailor of the group; this is Renn, the group's diplomat and healer; this is Charlie, part of the group's muscle; and I'm also part of the muscle I suppose as the other close ranged brawler." He explained gesturing to everyone as he went. "Looking at your arms you also seem to be someone who regularly exercises like the rest of us, what brought you here?" He inquired, curious of the newcomer's background.
Fred Colon rozukitsune ManofManyRoles Emphoa

 

[EldridSmith]

Ivan could almost feel the prejudice against Byzantine in Elriel's eyes, causing him to sigh, his countryman certainly had manage to screw things up, he couldn't blame them for disliking Byzantine, he himself had many gripes with the corruption and heresy found within. As for Elriel's assumption his armor would cause problems, it had not in the past considering the Ashen Sons was a neutral faction in the war, opposing it for many reasons. His uncle was doing everything in his power to keep them from being forcefully mobilized for combat, especially considering the order's stance on reform. The Ashen Sons themselves were actually stationed close to the border of the Scandinavian west. Still if people in the resistance unfamiliar with his order's designs it could cause issue. Thankfully, all he had to do to hide his heraldry was to flip his surcoat inside out and take off the crown.

"Ah, if we head west, I can get in contact with my aunt, Brynhild Berg, she leads the Valkyries for those familiar with the west. If we head east I can get us in contact with my uncle, Cardinal Mikhail Gregovich. I have family on both sides of things... so the war has been complicated for me." He remarked pensively doing his best to avoid politics while explaining how he could be of help and to a degree, his situation. As for Elriel rejecting the sunflower seeds and turned to practice before inquiring of the others if they could cook and where two people were from.

The boy Zak was mostly talking with others so Ivan didn't bother butting in before the boy seemed to address him as 'Big Slab' to which Ivan chuckled. "I am doing fine small one, but I'm afraid I am less of a slab and more of a steel wall." He remarks with a hearty grin as he knocks on his armor in good humor. "Ah worry not politics bore me, so no need get the rope. Sadly my position often requires me engage in them... when I can I leave that work to my uncle." He explains as he sits back down and stretches, despite what Zak expected Ivan was actually rather relaxed, he held himself to a rigid standard, but he wasn't about to force it on others, he adhered to a different code from the world, but even the Bible said not to adhere their expectations on others. "Were this room larger I'd get up to join you in playing ball. Ah forgive me, I am Ivan, may I ask your name?" He said with a friendly smile.

The young girl on crutches, took up to talking with Elrial and Adamaris while he talked with the boy. He did hear her say she was a cook, at which point he stood up, slowly this time, to help her to the kitchen to cook. "Allow me to be of assistance then Miss." Ivan said glad to be of help. While her, what he assumed was her brother, lectured the boy in the background, she inquired if his offer was still good. He chuckled and unzipped his backpack to pull out his breastplate and turn it so it looked like it was on him... at which point innumerous bags of semechki poured out. "Worry not I have more in my bag... so plenty of snacks for anyone hungry. Since you're going to the kitchen I can come to you." He offered with a wide grin as he set down his armor, should she take his offer he would pick up a bag of sunflower seeds to give her, otherwise he would patiently wait to escort her to the kitchen upon her arrival. "Also may I inquire your name? I don't recall catching it before." He says as he offers her an arm to help her to the kitchen. "I will apologize in advance if my attempts to help are overbearing, I have been told I can be overeager to help... and to give out sermons, but I only hear that complaint from my order." He said with a jovial smile. "Do not worry about offending me by turning down an offer, I have been told I have thick skin for many different reasons." He says with a hearty laugh at his own joke.

Elriel's companion puffed up at the mention of cooking which he was unsure of it's meaning. The pair from valencia was quite polite though they rejected his offer. "I also look forward to getting to know everyone! If we get bored I have brought decks of cards and a few rules for board games." He said with a grin, with his ability to control earth and stone he made the pieces for each game from scratch as it saved space. "It seems the kitchen will quickly be crowded. I will step out to make room for you." He says with a smile as he turned to Adamaris. It was rather obvious he meant well and was trying to do his best to be of assistance, though if someone inquired it of him he wouldn't notice as it was just something normal for him.
Jet Goliath Emphoa ManofManyRoles

 

[EldridSmith]

Baryn had been playing for a while before a drunken buffoon in heavy winter clothing wandered on deck and headed his way to complain. Baryn was in no mood for his antics and merely ignored him, to keep playing until he finished the song. Should the man attempt to use violence on him, he would swiftly feel the instrument up close in personal... it would not have been the first time he smacked someone with it while using his magic to keep it playing.

Their centurion stomped his direction, seeming to put an end to his music considering the drunk idiot's potential antics, but instead she merely starting he should have informed her that he played. She said she was good with a flute to his surprise. He acknowledged her presence but didn't respond as he finished the song before turning to her. "This is what I've been told is a didgeridoo, a McCragge instrument traditionally, however I made this myself in Zuànshí from scratch with no knowledge of it. I've since learned it was used for ceremonies and story telling for the natives there long ago. Considering the curiosity in your eyes, I'll tell you now Ms. Researcher that I'm interested in music history, the rest is yours to deal with. As for a flute, should you be missing yours I have enough bamboo scraps to make you one." He explained for the researcher and centurion after she silenced the sassy man with a hangover cure or whatever it was and answered the countless questions from the young boy. Though she soon turned to look at others in the group forming around him either from protests, curiosity, or enjoyment; one of which being a dancer clearly in what seemed to be sultry clothes from Zuanshi. The knight seeming to be no nonsense immediately asked about the mission. The researcher on the other hand seemed to have a similar demeanor to the centurion, though slightly less friendly and more reasonable.

From the eyes of the group it seemed his music was unpopular with the people he had to work with, he was aware his music sounded better with the instruments of his band members but considering they were now dead they would have to put up with him playing only one or two instruments at a time, perhaps three if he used wind magic. "As for those of you who dislike the music you are more than free to go below deck, considering the rest of my group is dead from the events that started this mission, and that I still need more practice with their instruments to fill in for them, this is what you're going to get." He bristled at those who disliked his music, especially glaring at the man in winter gear. At this he brought out his tiger, Khan, and leaned against them as Khan curled around him. Khan's soft fur was certainly calming in the given situation.

Jet Arcanist Lost Echo Monbon ZackStop

 

[Jet]

"That's quite aright," Isaac said as he strolled down the street, passing vibrant homes of many colors. They were covered in flower plants and creeping vines up the sides, and each one had a lusciously green lawn. It was stark contrast to the ruins surrounding the little town, a slice of heaven in a graveyard. "You're safe here, even without your friend."

"The local tribes are convinced this place is cursed, so they don't butt into our business." He stopped in a square at the center of town. There was an old granite fountain from decades ago, patched and repaired by the townsfolk. Its water flowed as cicadas chirped in the distance, sun shimmering from the pale fountain. "May I ask, are you associated with Nye in any way?"

"If so, do not share it with my people." He faced them with a grimace. "Nye destroyed this place twenty years ago; over a million people were killed."

"The ones here were lucky enough to survive, but their families weren't. And they still have resentment for the greatest city on earth."

ManofManyRoles

 

[Fred Colon]

"Healing is a dang useful skill!" Kilderkin said, "I'm sure I'll be needing it, eventually. If only because I'm kinda clumsy." She pointed to a scar on her collarbone, seemingly purposefully covered up by one of the spokes of the compass rose tattoo emanating from her shoulder up her neck and across her torso. Got this when when I fell from the Mizzenmast and hit the the railing of the ship. Luckily, the wood speared me through, kept me still, and I didn't fall over the edge of the ship, as there was a storm on, and it we were about 20,000 feet in the air! Clumsy, I am. Got all sorts of scars like that." She laughed, as if it were a fond, funny memory.

Hopefully she'd be able to build on that skill, for everyone's sake. Time would tell, though. Perhaps they would face no violence on this trip! Kilderkin sighed inside her head, even as outwardly she laughed.

Unlikely. They wouldn't offer a position as a centurion if the mission was a milk run.

'Kildi' cocked her head to the side at Charlie's outburst.

"What's wrong, Charlie? It's a Centurion! What we're all going to be once we're done with this! It'll be nice to know someone so strong is watching our backs!" 'Kildi' grinned. "And we can ask em questions about what its like to be a Centurion. They can give us tips!"

When the newcomer arrived, and Zulan introduced them all, Kilderkin waved.

"Howdy. Yea. Maybe you did see me in the arena. I had a match." She shrugged, smiling, "Nice to meet you Eveline. Didn't notice you on board. You with us for the prison? How'd you get mixed up in all this? Whats your opinion on Centurions? I like em. Charlie doesn't, apparently."

Emphoa EldridSmith ManofManyRoles rozukitsune

 

[Fred Colon]

Bracken heard the others from his perch, up in one of the masts of the ship. The boy and the woman, who were running about the ship, and the Woman who seemed annoyed by the other two. All of them. Chittering like squirrels.

He didn't understand it. How could they put words together so quickly? Sounds rattled off faster than even Bracken could shoot arrows. He respected the ability, though. Even as he didn't understand it. It was likely training, like everything else, and Bracken simply hadn't ever had the chance to train the capability himself. Perhaps that was it. Though, even children could do it, so perhaps not. He had never felt self conscious about his ability to string words together before. Not until he left the wilds, to travel to Nye.

He carved a few more slivers of wood away from the length of wood that would soon become one of his perfectly balanced arrows. His third one made, since the disaster. He was lucky he had been able to recover a few of his arrow heads, as he'd gone out, back into the arena, to the losers side of the Ceremonies. Four of them. He would have recovered more, if it hadn't been for the... event. An event he didn't really remember. Already wounded, the blast had rendered him insensate. The first thing he remembered afterwards, was coming to consciousness with a stern looking woman, who would eventually be revealed to be a centurion, tending to his wounds. They'd almost all healed, by that time.

And then, before he could get his bearings, the man, Dalton, another Centurion, had told him in no uncertain terms that he was to be this groups guide through the West. To a land near his home. To... the town. It was convenient. He was going home after his failure. He could restock his arrows from Gorsh. He could retreat back into the wilderness, where there was none of this chittering, except amongst the squirrels and birds.

But only after he was done guiding them. Dalton had told him, in slow, simple words what they were doing. As if Bracken was an idiot. But he understood. They were doing something dangerous. The promise of the Centurion position was no longer a lure to him, now that he had seen what the world outside the forests were like. He would do his job, and then disappear.

But something made him stop carving, and look down at the chittering people. Perhaps it was only a matter of practice...

He put the nearly finished arrow into his quiver, and dropped down to the deck of the ship, Cicada wings appearing briefly on his back with a 'Whirr' to slow his fall.

"...." He opened his mouth as he approached them, paused, and then said, "Hello." His voice like a croak. Rusty from disuse. Or, rather, from never having used it. He strung the sounds of the words together carefully. Like he had to think about how they all went together. Which, to be fair, he did.

He pointed to himself. A forty something year old man, who looked older in his ragged leathers, sun wrinkled face and erratically cut, dirty hair.

"Bracken." He said, and then stopped, to think about the next word. "Guide." He gave a little bow.

That was polite. Introducing yourself was polite. Isaac had told him, when the old man had learned Bracken was leaving. Brynwyr had done it too, and he had liked Brynwyr.

He was quite proud of himself, actually. Initiating conversation like that. Now he would have to go and rest a bit before he could manage something like that again. He began to turn away.

Emphoa (Rat) Jet (Mischa) ZackStop (Illana)

Mentions: Arcanist

 

[ManofManyRoles]

Yua Smith
ユア・スミス
There was a sigh of relief breathed as Isaac affirmed that there'd be no issue with her sending Felix off to fetch their little craft once they reached a place to stop. Well, that was good news at least! Curious eyes regarded her surroundings in rapt silence, the beautiful hues of green and colors from flowers a stark contrast to dark hues of gray concrete and stone. It was as if a painter had taken their brush and started a painting, but lost the energy to complete it after an impressive start. A hidden garden of life within a tomb, beauty where there was none to be found. "Thank you, sir. Felix won't be long, I promise. Felix, would you please?" The older gentleman gave a nod, the luggage coming to rest right beside the fountain as Yua came to sit down right on the edge, hands folding in her lap as Felix made an about-face and made to leave with a brisk step to measure his pace.

"Nye, sir? No, I assure you! I uhm...hold no patronage to the city of Nye. The only interaction I've had was Felix had to request authentication to head this way. The craft is ours, and the only members of the trip have been him and me. I'd have not gone through Nye if I didn't have to, but they do monitor traffic to and from the West. I'm...from Dewanma, myself. And Felix is loyal only to myself so...I promise you, we don't desire to bring you trouble." The blonde was silent beyond that for a few minutes, not the sort to announce who she might affiliate or how to get the sort of permissions to come this far west with just a crew of two. Yua's lips pursed into a small frown, hands folding in her lap and thumb brushing across the smooth and glossed surface of the back of her prosthetic hand. "I've heard some..unfortunate stories regarding the 'great' city. All that glimmers is not gold, and I'm not a naive little girl. It's...why I didn't want to offer my aid in Nye, terrible as that sounds? It'd be taken for granted, or I'd garner the attention I don't...really care for. There was apparently an attack there, recently, Felix tells me...I don't know if news travels this far west, or how often. I don't know the details, I didn't...ask him for much information, I admit...Mister Isaac? What's your opinion of Nye? Obviously your fellow countrymen don't have any love lost but...what of you? I-if I'm not overstepping my bounds in asking." Yua's tone, while soft-spoken in nature, wasn't as prone to stutter and stumble, not now at least. On first meeting, her nerves had gotten the better of her, but she was quicker to warm up now as a young adult than when she was but a girl, and it showed with how she carried herself and spoke.

Jet​

 

[ZackStop]

​

Spivey knew the trumpet player had checked out, not even giving a second to acknowledge was was being said to him. They were just about ready to toss the thing off the ship, uncaring of what would unfold thereafter. Weather a verbal or physical conflict was totally fine with the drunk, fighting is what they were all about. It was just a dumbed down version of killing,. Only some were cut out for the real thing, while others cower at the thought.

Luckily for the poor didgeridoo it was left unharmed. Their hero, Tessie arrived with just the right medicine. Something about being a man later, and Spivey had the flask. "Now you're speaking my language, toots!" Spivey rattled out through the deep tone emitting from the mask, before pushing it up just enough to get the nectar flowing. This was the right way to get rid of a hang over, getting more drunk, and it was enough to tune out the man's long winded history lesson.

So much history. It was all anyone was talking about, mostly about this jungle and whatever it was they were searching for. Spivey couldn't give a rat's ass, but at least some people were intrigued, meant they could worry about other things like getting paid.

Swinging their head forward again after several gulps of vodka, Spivey pulled the mask back down and turned to look at little miss history nerd. Seemed like she had a lot to say about just about everything, including quick jabs at the merc. She left it short, but Spivey could almost sense there was more she would like to say about their drunken demeanor. It would be interesting to see what the know it all would come up with. Probably nothing new, it was common place to get insulted and demeaned verbally, it's what they were used to. At some point, either from the booze or simply saying 'fuck it', the slights stopped hurting. When you don't feel anything, you can do anything because you don't care. It made killing people easier, along with everything people struggle with morally.

"Ah, whatever, Legs." Spivey said dismissively, waving their hand in an equally dismissive motion. Turning back to the Centurion and trumpet blower, it became apparent that there was need for more vodka running through them. "Crap, I can still hear him..." Spivey mumbled, before going for more of the flask, sucking it dry, fully convinced it could make all the sound fade.

Jet Arcanist Lost Echo EldridSmith Monbon

 

[Goliath]

Leon woke up in a small room; located in the back of the ship, which he’d claimed the night prior. If anyone had tried the door this morning to find a place for their things, it would have been locked. Leo wasn’t trying to have anyone enter as he was sleeping soundly. He had met the other competitors after all!

Leo was sprawled over the bed, his red hair shooting off in every direction as he rubbed his eyes. A yawn escaped his lips.

He had been out late, somewhere close to three in the morning. So it had made sense to gather his things and go to the ship early for sleep .. instead of accidentally missing their departure.

Truthfully, Kastro had been a bit of a culture shock to him at first, just as Nye had been. Going from the rural country hills of Albion to a city bustling with strangers.

It had an air of loneliness but also freedom. To do or speak as he wished without risking any gossip being spread around town.

He had a fun time at the bars and especially karaoke. Was he good? No. But it had got lots of laughs which was plenty. Leo even made friends with a few of the centurions stationed on the island, going back to the barracks one night for more drinks. That had been an experience in itself.

He had always been able to successfully bond with people. Even the grumpy old ladies back home treated him well. But maybe that’s because he actually tried to listen to their stories.

Leon slowly sat up, debating on going back to sleep. The choice was something else that was nice about not being home, no more sunrise wake-ups. But he found himself hoping his parents were doing okay with the farm without him.

At least their community was close. He was sure the neighbors would pitch in just as they had done for others through the years. And if..no..Evaline would be home to help them too. He grimaced, his fingernails digging into his wrist for a moment before it passed.

The airship felt like it was freezing to Leon, goose bumps visible on his arms. He hated being cold, but he had a new team to meet! If he was to guess, they would probably be out on the main deck. And that would only be colder.

Leon shivered, reaching down and grabbing the blanket. He quickly wrapped it around the back of his head so it was draped over him, feeling pretty satisfied with himself and his cocoon. He slid his shoes on and glanced in the mirror once before he left the room, making his way around the ship.

Leon came upstairs and saw the group standing across the deck. Two stood by the railing. A woman, sitting a little further away. And a gruff-looking man with insect wings. He was able to hear him speak as he approached as well.

Leon wore a friendly smile wanting to make a positive first impression.

“Maaan, it’s as cold as a frosted frog!” He spoke with a bright laugh. Looking at the girl with electric hair sitting by herself, “I would be a popsicle if I had that on. More power to y’a.”

He stopped before the man who’d introduced himself as their guide. Leon stuck his hand out below the blanket for a handshake. If taken, he’d notice how rough his hands were despite his young face.

“Mornin’ Bracken. Sorry, I’m late. Names Leon. I also go by Leo.” His piercing blue eyes were kind as he stared for a moment.

“Guess many people think the extra letter is too much,” he joked to lighten the mood. Leo then turned his head. Not wanting his gaze to linger too long when the other had a hint of nervousness about him.

“Ahh, it’s a relief! None of y’all are as scary as I was mentally preparing for.” He spoke, laughing again. “I hope we can all get along!”

His energy was bubbly as he addressed the remaining pair. “It’s pretty, ain’t it. It’s been years, but as they always do, the plants are starting to return.” He hummed, looking at the landscape before the two again. “I grew up on a farm, so excuse my love of the Earth. We all have our own hobbies. But I’ll refrain from churning butter in my room,” he spoke with a playful smirk.

”But what about you? What do you like to do beside hang over the railing?” He asked Mischa, remembering her most from the games.

Jet (Mischa) Emphoa (Rat) ZackStop (Ilana) Fred Colon (Bracken)

 

[rozukitsune]

Narzas listened and noted the facts down as she heard them, her smile fading as Johan seemed to be joking less and being serious more. So this was about the poison. That had been a neat trick. And it hadn't been the only one either. That announcer guy had gone down mid-fucking-sentence right as he'd been about to say something that seemed like it might have been off the previously agreed-upon script.

Her instinct wanted Darius to end up being the mole. Or was that just her intense hatred of the man she'd only met twice yet everything out of his mouth and face had just made her apathetic distaste turn to full on blind fury? She rubbed her forehead to coax the smirking face of that asshole back into its box and nodded silently without argument as Johan mentioned that the rest of them should have all the mission info in case he were to go down. She figured it went without saying that any of them could go down at any time considering what they were here to investigate. For herself and Johan it was just another checkbox on the list of reasons why people were gunning for them but for these poor young souls who were so innocent and naïve... she kind of felt bad for them.

She turned to Anya and shrugged slowly. "As for missing kids... I'm afraid I hadn't heard anything about that. We certainly rescued a bunch of them from the explosion but - so many more didn't get that lucky. They'll probably be working that place for weeks making sure they've matched dental records to every body part they find." She snaps her mouth shut suddenly and looks uncomfortable before coughing and adding: "Not that I think whoever it is you're looking for might be dead. Who knows. Maybe they weren't even at the Games during that whole fiasco... I'm sure some people leave before they give out prizes cause they're there for the bloodshed. Beat the traffic... skip the accolades..."

The ex-assassin just shut up after that, feeling like she'd probably not at all helped with what appeared to be a worried older sister or maybe family friend looking out for a little lost sheep that might have permanently lost its way.

Jet Lost Echo ZackStop Huntertabbysandshark3

 

[rozukitsune]

Renn seemed to slowly regaining her mojo as her smile grew more natural and her laughter more relaxed. Yeah... things had been rough recently but the show had to go on. A chapter had ended... but here on this boat to a prison for the first time going somewhere other than the home she'd always known - a brand new one was beginning.

She nodded absently to Charlie's semi-rude comment. "'Course I'm a fire user." She answered, amused as she scratched at Noel's belly. "I've mostly only ever used it to make fireworks at my shows though."

Speaking of new beginnings, yet another face revealed itself. Feeling bolstered by her brand new collection of friends - yes this weird assortment of individuals were her friends now! She had real friends! Not just one-sided crushes or long-distance conversations that were always carefully watched but honest, earnest people just being themselves... (well except for Kilderkin but even that was her being herself in a way): she flashed a bright and cheerful smile that was 100% more real than the fake ones 'Kildi' was throwing around and chirped a melodic, "Hello!" to the recently self-introduced Evaline, nodding along to Zulan's introduction of her. She got up off the deck and brushed herself off, then reached a hand out to the fresh-face. "Good to have you."

ManofManyRoles EldridSmith Fred Colon Emphoa

 

[Jet]

​

"You're um... welcome." Adrian looked at the woman walking beside him, choking on the words like he'd swallowed rusty nails. He wasn't used to politeness after years in a martial order, surrounded by dolts with thicker heads than armor. The loveable bastards. He lamented how he'd never see them again, because he'd either become a centurion or die in the bloody process, and neither road would take him back home.

"Save your thanks, I'm only doing what's best for the mission." He looked her way with a pathetically small, weak flash of sympathy. That she would die hunting centurion killers in the slums; like a lamb hired to kill wolves in a forest. He thought the same of the singer and the classy man with a silver tongue, but success wasn't measured in how many returned. Only that the enemy was found, captured and wringed for every drop of information.

He wanted them to survive though, but he wasn’t going to demean them on the way to an early grave, and he wasn't going to mourn them either. "If you find yourself on the wrong side of a blade." He shrugged with a faint smirk. "It wasn't meant to be, no point worrying about it."

"That's what my teacher said before I killed that moletooth," he said to Goliath. "It's not that we're unkillable, but why make things worse for them? Why worry about it?"

"But what do I know?"

"I'm just a pair of boots with a sword." He traced his hand over the wall as they descended further and further; the subterranean air was cold and wet, clinging to his pores like oil. He closed his eyes for a second as the walls closed in again, and his bird, slowly trotting behind him, nervously ruffled its feathers.

'We'll be out soon enough, just ignore the tunnel, it definitely won't collapse on my head and crush me' he mused as Faraji snapped him from his trance, and his question was more than welcome given the circumstances.

"Hmm?" Adrian grumbled. "Hydras... has to be hydras."

"They're not like the ones in story books either. Think of a writhing mass of snakes about the size of this tunnel." He looked up and measured the distance to the ceiling, then did the same with the walls beside him. The corridor was about four meters tall and five meters wide, exactly the same as hydras. "They like caves because they fill them up completely, and cutting off a head is like draining the ocean with an eye dropper."

"You have to disintegrate the whole fucking thing." He remembered his first time battling one; even his mentor had a pale look on his face. The feeling of dread as a thousand snakes pulsed towards them in a tunnel. The exhaustion they felt when finally, after bombarding it for ten minutes straight, every head was burned or ripped to bits.

Adrian was confident enough to face almost anything, but not another Hydra. The fucking things. He'd rather crawl through three miles of shit. "Anyway, I doubt we'll find one here."

And thank God for that.

He breathed a little easier as Vixie asked another question, this one about the ceiling. His eyes widened and he slowly turned his head, looming over her like a mountain. He put on a scared face and like a horror movie protagonist, he uttered three terrified words.

"Vampires."

"Ooo."

"Spooky."

He narrowly smirked before adding, "Only half kidding. There are mutated bats that eat people, call em vampires for short."

"I feel like Detleaf with his one thousand and one lectures, when did I become the old man?" He shook his head in utter disgrace. "But that's enough of that." He chuckled at the bittersweet thought; how he behaved more and more like the old man himself.

What Adrian wouldn't give to see him one last time.

"Anyways, what brought you all down here anyway? Must be some reason your willing to become a corpse in a sewer."

Meanwhile, Bean trotted down the corridor humming below his breath, pretending not to pay attention. He was thoroughly engaged by their wee little discussion, and when Adrian was done, he looked back at Goliath and said, "Me? Nah I'm not even strong! I'm the weakest centurion there is! Cheated me whole way through the games!" His eyes locked on the young singer. "I don't even know what I'm doing here mate, truly, you're fucked!" He chuckled and skipped down the hallway, humming as he always did, with a carefree smile and a heart full of love.

Goliath Arcanist Lost Echo Anne Boolean

 

[Goliath]

Elriel blinked. Hurt his feelings? Zak’s nickname for them didn’t warrant anything that cold. He thought they were simply throwing out annoying labels or something. Thinking maybe that was Zak’s way of bonding.

No, if he was trying to hurt him, Elriel would probably skip the name-calling altogether and poke questions at the visible scars that clearly covered the male's hands or look for another sensitive topics to get a strong reaction.

He sighed, realizing the joke went over Zak’s head as he rambled about Komodo Dragons and how cool they were. “Komondor,” he corrected. “They are the dogs that look like a mop,” Elriel spoke, gesturing at Zak’s hair before rolling his eyes, knowing he probably should have said that the first time.

He watched Zak tap the ship wall. Elriel also didn’t like the vessel they were on, feeling a little cramped too, but he wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of agreeing, so he waved it off. Watching him play with a ball of his own creation as he harassed the Byzantine knight instead.

Elriel turned to Ace, nodding slowly. His long white hair fell over his shoulder where it lay. Reaching below his ribs even pulled up. “Trust. Give it to just anyone and you will find a knife in the back. So yes. It must be earned. But I will stay open-minded until proven otherwise. We are a team now,” he spoke, the words light on his lips.

He pondered the second part a little longer before speaking. “Weird is a good thing. Everyone has their own special brand of weird. And if they say they don’t they are lying,” he smiled, looking up from the ice shape in his palm, currently a dragon.

“Ah. A fellow ice user,” he hummed. “I agree a shared magic set is something to bond over,” he spoke. But his words didn’t reveal how much it meant to him. It was reassuring to have something in common with at least one other on this ship. Knowing he wasn’t the best at making friends or even acquaintances. Not that he cared about such things .. or so he told himself.

Which is why he felt regret, asking where they were from. “I see.” Elriel’s expression didn’t change, not wanting to come off rude. But internally, his stomach sank. The west. People who hated Nye and, probably, the rest of the countries who had turned a blind eye and refused to assist. Why were they here? Why did they want to become centurions? It didn’t make much sense.

He glanced at Adamaris. His eyes communicated what he was thinking clearly to his childhood friend. Mavior and Ace had both talked about trust, but the noble would be even harder to convince now. Though he did respect the honesty.

“Further questions? This isn’t a trial,” he spoke, shaking his head. Maybe it was because of his posture or the way he talked. But Elriel was trying to be friendly. Hoping he wasn’t making Mavior uncomfortable. “I’ll extend the gesture. You may also ask any questions you have of me. But since you offered — what are those plants? I can’t say I’ve ever read about a species quite like that.”

Elriel ignored Ivan, not caring about his proclamation of being useful. Nor who he’d contact. They had a centurion guide for a reason. He’d given zero inclination of his thoughts or feelings on the man, not even a tiny hint. So Ivan needing to explain such things repeatedly rubbed him the wrong way. Elriel watched him help Ace before looking away. His eyes softened as they fell on Adamaris who said they would help her cook; his mood improved at the thought of eating their food.

“Thank you,” he spoke. His smile was more genuine as he looked at Ada. Less of a formality. “I will wait here unless you need me.” Elriel had never cooked a day in his life. He would only get in the way, especially in the cramped kitchen. He knew why they offered though. Ada was worried about him, probably because of Zak and their history. But he had more composure than that, or at least he hoped.

Elriel turned to the thorn in his side again, a kind expression on his face only to assure Adamaris. “We won’t kill each other. Mavior wouldn’t appreciate us ruining his ship .. even if I would have the upper hand this time,” he spoke, his purple eyes twinkling slightly.

“You didn’t compete, but you were eager to fight? You said you were at the games for a job, right? So what were you doing?” He asked Zak curiously.

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

 

[Jet]

​

Mischa was tired of dealing with grumpy fucks like Ilana; first was the tall man from the games and now, like a star player subbing in, she took over as the worlds biggest asshole. Her attitude was more damp and shallow than a small puddle on the street, and her snark was downright peachy. Talk about a lovable person. Mischa was sure they'd be amazing friends after a few days on the road.

They were off to a great start with both girls sulking in different spots, and Mischa could feel anger broiling in her chest. Irate at how the girl insulted Rat like it was nothing.

"How the hell is he annoying?" Mischa shouted across the deck, stepping between Rat and the cold woman. "He was just trying to be friendly, and this is how you act?"

"There's something wrong with you people! First that idiot at the games, now this." Mischa turned and leaned over the rail once more, choosing to ignore the other girl for now. There was no point talking to someone that psychotic, especially with the creepy smile she flashed them. Mischa could never understand people like her. How they took an abrasive stance without a good reason behind it, treating other people like dogs. It was ridiculous and of course they had to be teammates, and not the normal kind who could split after the day was done.

"Whatever," she grumbled below her breath. "I'm over all this hostility, like we aren't working together in a life or death situation. We've enough stress without having drama on the ship."

Mischa closed her eyes and took a long meditative breath, easing her nerves as she said, "Hey Rat, maybe I should be asking myself this, but are you alright?" Her anger gave way to emptiness as she looked his way. "You didn't do nothing wrong, some people are just hateful."

"Or maybe we're—

Mischa abruptly stopped when two men walked over, vacantly staring as Bracken introduced himself. He was scary looking like the mercenaries she once sailed with, grungy and dangerous with his wild hair and old clothes. He looked like the kind of person who'd cut her throat for a pouch full of coins, but she reminded herself about books and their covers. That maybe he was a nice guy below the surface?

The answers weren't going to come easy though, not when he spoke one word every ten seconds. Mischa was astounded by the sheer sluggishness of his pace, like molasses sliding down a hill made of sandpaper, put there by a team made of sloths.

"Hey," she began, struggling to understand the person, or extra terrestrial she was dealing with. "Mischa... airship person."

"It is good," she said in slow motion. "To meet you."

"Do you speak… common tongue?"

Mischa looked sideways at Leon for some help. He seemed friendly enough even if a little homely, like he'd spent more time around goats than people, but now he was her lifeline in the awkwardness. "So um... yeah," she quietly cleared her throat. "Frozen frogs."

"That's a new one," she mused. "I do have a penchant for drinking games if you're up for em?" Her question went to both Rat and Leon, she'd happily get wasted with them before landing in the west, and they had the entire stock to choose from! The lucky guys wouldn't even have to pay.

"You seem like a fish outta water you know?" Mischa chuckled at the ginger. "Me n' Rat are gonna need a translator for your sayings." She nudged Rat with her elbow and narrowly smiled at him, feeling a little more comfortable with Bracken around. He wasn't axe murdering yet and the more she looked at him, the more he seemed like a pure loner. But she couldn't be sure for now. They'd have to wait and see if he ever went postal and blew up the ship.

Emphoa ZackStop Fred Colon Goliath

 

[Goliath]

Goliath shot Nyaall a cold stare that said zip-it, regretting answering that stupid question during their first meeting. Definitely not in his right mind at the time. But he wouldn’t defend his answer or elaborate and risk looking like an idiot. Not wanting to chance the male saying anything else.

He was just glad his question distracted the cat-boy from taking it any further. And..he could empathize with his goals. The genuine realness of the words and the optimism about being free. Nyaall had one mission to complete before his true freedom, and Goliath wouldn’t accept a failure. It paired well. Finding himself warming up to the not completely useless light user.

An example. Goliath’s lightning element was less than ideal as a light source. So though the fire users illuminated their own paths, he had to rely on Nyaall to not trip down the stairs.

He rolled his eyes at Vixie, his hand shaped as a mouth as he mocked her droning speech about how he was demeaning and repeating things she already ‘knew’. But she was in for a rude awakening. Stories told as fear bait to keep kids behaving and on the straight and narrow were different than real life.

This was his environment after all, growing up in a gang much younger than she was now. Goliath would know better than most. Not that he’d disclose that information out loud. “You think I know if you’ve heard of Nye’s specific crime ring? That would mean I would need to know the country you were raised. Which newsflash — I don’t.” he scoffed.

A plus; any kidnapper would return the child if she behaved like this, beyond annoying, which might be good for her.

Goliath heard Adrian speak, less of a jab this time and more relatable. “Ha. I don’t think I’m unkillable,” he shook his head, knowing he could get taken out anytime. That was the life he lived.

“But make it worse? Dude. My comment was given when she could have turned around and gave up on this stupid idea that she had something to prove. All while making our lives easier instead of us having to pickup her slack.”

Goliath was done with the topic. Staying quiet as Nyaall and Faraji talked about teamwork and were trying to be reassuring for Vixie. But those kinds of words were empty on the battlefield. Only the strong survived. It was that simple, as Adrian had also said.

He looked at Faraji. “Don’t know why you couldn’t get a souvenir. I mean, as long as it’s not drugs. Normally these places have a large market for stolen or banned goods. You might even find something nice,” he spoke with a shrug. “Just watch your money, especially if someone walks into you. Lots of pickpocketing,” he advised.

His attention shifted to the redhead again. Everyone knew Adrian was freaked out by the tunnel. And though Goliath was one to give people shit, the memory of recently being trapped under a bunch of rubble was in the forefront of his mind. Truthfully he was also in an elevated state of .. stress. But felt he was hiding it significantly better. Or maybe it was because most of the group was focused on Adrian instead.

He snapped out of his thoughts as he heard Faraji ask the question, clearly trying to distract the redhead. Which worked. So Goliath listened to Adrian’s story about the Hydra. The Scandinavian West didn’t have as many monsters, or the ones that existed were disguised by human skin, unlike the Adrian’s experience. So it was interesting enough to learn about.

That is until his dramatic telling of vampires, making Goliath roll his red eyes again. ‘He’s as weird as the others,’ he thought. But Goliath smirked as Adrian said he was lecturing like 'an old man' and he was done with it. Because that was funny.

He pondered the question about why he was here. Finding no reason not to answer. “I’ll bite. I didn’t compete like most of you. I actually had no connection to the games at all, minus being a spectator to see what it was all about.“ He spoke casually, pausing momentarily to debate how much to reveal about himself to these strangers before continuing.

“I guess I’m just here for the badge. It will improve my life. People listen more when you have that distinction,” he shrugged.

Goliath turned after, hearing Bean talk. He didn’t believe the centurion for even a second. No. He could feel the blood lust. The way his eyes pierced into him when he’d insulted their age. But Bean could say he was the weakest all he wanted; Goliath wouldn’t question him.

He did wonder if their guide saying that they were fucked would only serve to worry the others. But he was distracted. Watching him start to skip away as he scowled.

“Hey! Can you get your fucking shrimp off of me?!” Goliath spoke, clearly annoyed and uncomfortable. It was taboo to touch a persons familiar, especially a stranger. It was like touching their soul. But he would flick it off if it wasn’t removed quickly. Gripping the strap of his backpack.

Jet (Adrian) Arcanist (Faraji)
Anne Boolean (Nyaall) Lost Echo (Vixie)

 

[ZackStop]

Ren was thrown off guard when the seasoned sailor claimed ignorance, for a moment he actually believed the elder. Looks could always be deceiving, and with Ren's luck he could have ended up with a captain with little experience with airships, dooming his group to a bumpy ride. "What?" Ren managed to utter one word before the steering wheel spun to the left, throwing him backwards against a wall, then forward again as wheel shot to the opposite extreme. He managed to keep his balance for a majority of the zig zag motion the ship was on, as did Phalanx who clawed at the deck below.

When the roller-coaster reached it's whippy conclusion, Ren sat on the edge of the stairs. Phalanx was tucked under one of his arms while the other occupied with holding the guard rail along the stairs. They both felt alittle dizzy but unharmed, though a few inches more and they would have toppled down to main deck. Phalanx was not too pleased and began to growl at the man, but Ren calmed him down with a simple pat on the head.

"A-alright, point taken..." He said as he hoisted himself back up. He glanced down at the group feeling alittle embarrassed, but avoided eye contact. "What I mean is, well uh." He gathered his thoughts for a moment. "You see I'm a mechanic! And well uh." He was kind of intimidated by the man and his boozy stench, and after getting his brain rattled it proved difficult to ask his questions. "I've always wanted to be on an airship. I've read a lot about them, and I'm wondering if you would let me take a look at the engine room... um, Sir. I swear I won't touch anything! Ahaha!" He was afraid he would piss the man off a second time. After all he figured a captain would be protective of his vestle and wouldn't let just anyone go poking around down there. However, Ren was determined. He had no idea when he would get a chance like this again, if ever, so the boy did his best to assure the sailor that he could be trusted.

Jet Lost Echo rozukitsune Huntertabbysandshark3

 

[Jet]

​

"Ruins shmuins." Tessia smacked Esther's shoulder. "Take what ya want and give nothing back, and isn't it better to preserve what you find anyway? Otherwise it'll be lost in that mess." She looked down at the forest where cities once stood, ruins peeking through the dense canopy. Her eyes widened at a stepped pyramid visible through the brush, an impressive sight even to a hater of history.

"You can donate it to a museum if that'll make you feel better." She mischievously smiled before adding, "Or ya know, you can sell it to a museum too."

Tessia turned and sat beside Bayrn and his digeroo... didgerdoo, didger... whatever the hell it was. It seemed he was an ornery bastard but that was fine with her, because ornery bastards were better than overly positive freaks. Lord knows she was tired of that archetype after years in court. All the ass kissers who fake smiled for networking purposes alone, playing polite games for social cache. Fuck all of that. Tessia liked the musician and his drunken rival, because they were genuine and entertaining. She could laugh at their antics with the other girls on the sidelines, unless they were dramatic too.

"Oh come on! Let's be nice now," she said to Baryn. "No need to banish anyone to the galley... for now."

"I wouldn't mind a show and tell though!" She searched her pockets and among the cluttered crap inside, found a metal box covered in old filigree. "Here's something cool, a magic box that can't be opened no matter what I do!"

"Bought it at a flea market; some bumbler from the country found it in a cave!" She smacked it against the floor to no avail. "Fucking thing," she said with a cheery smile. "I'll crack it if it's the last thing I fuckin do!"

"Haha!" She smacked it against the floor once, twice and three times more. "Endless fun for the whole family!"

Her smile faded as she wrestled with the box like a monkey, only stopping when Brynwyr asked about the mission. "Oh! Yeah about that, I kinda wing things ya know?"

Tessia reached into her bottomless pockets once more, fishing out a folded piece of paper. "Read for yourself," she said, unfolding it once, twice, three times and a fourth. "Enjoy the poetry of our finest scribes."

She passed the crinkled paper and expectantly watched Brynwyr, hoping the knight would give a refresher on the details. Tessia had skimmed it of course, but she hated reading so much it actually pained her.

She could barely remember the bullet list of things found in the notebook, more a series of facts than a true diary. It seemed there was a person in Umbria who'd help against an enemy of the dead terrorist, which everyone assumed was Nye. The mystery person wasn't named but apparently they were tall, wore a blindfold and their vague location was known. It was certainly a shot in the dark while drunk off their asses, but this person was a threat that needed handling.

Tessia was semi-aware of everything on the list, but couldn't explain it without sounding like a dumbass, so she patiently awaited a refresher on the mission.
 
Arcanist EldridSmith ZackStop Lost Echo Monbon

 

[ZackStop]

Who was Rat, some blissfully optimistic stranger, to tell her how to live her life. He was trying to be nice about it, however Ilana hated that even more, like it was just a nice coat of paint over a beat up car. At the end of the day he's just trying to sell her shit. No, Ilana had been through too much to buy into his way of life, knowing nothing about the life she's lived. It was obnoxiously oblivious at best, and these up beat crew mates had no right to even suggest she change her outlook. She sold that choice long ago, in her heart. She lived only as a force to achieve a single goal, even if her last breath was taken to achieve it. She would never dare speak it aloud, therefore she chose not to argue it.

Even as Mischa snapped at her, Ilana kept her mouth shut, but her thoughts ran as wild as the airy girl's mouth. "You call that friendly? Of course." She thought to herself, side eyeing Mischa as she vented. "All I hear is someone telling me how I should live my life, but you don't know anything about me. Like I'd spend a moment considering that." She tightened a fist for a moment, the skin on her fingertips pressing against the palm of her hand as it curled up and created the smallest creaking. She desperately wanted to say all that out loud, but they would never get it. What would an argument solve anyway? It would cause more conflict and energy would only be spent humoring such an ignorant take on how one individual should live. Pointless, and a waste of what limited reserves of energy she had.

Truly, Ilana had the cards stacked against her, but no one knew that, she wouldn't allow herself to share. The girl was hardheaded that way. But how could they understand, Rat and Mischa? She wouldn't waste he breath on someone who wouldn't understand. There was too much pain in her heart to allow more to trespass, she was too hardened for that. Hardened from the constant torture her familiar caused, and the torture she caused herself. Allowing these two in, only to be misunderstood would break her to pieces. She put up walls to prevent that. It was all she could manage, all she could bare. It would prevent her from achieving her single goal in life, if one could call it a life. It was more so an existence. She was not a man, woman, child or machine. Ilana was a vessel for her vengeance. For what she would not say, but it burned in her heart the brightest. It was a flame that extinguished all other asperations, and there she stood in the middle of it, a blaze rising and roaring all around her, burning her skin without pain, because she willfully let it tear away the flesh. She knew her place in this world, and could bet the rest on this ship were still trying to figure that part out. Her path was clear, and she will not stop. She will rest only when that objective is reached. Becoming a Centurion was only the first sign of completion.

Her eyes seemed glazed over, as Mischa defended her friend, Rat. Mischa's reasoning was not lost on her, Ilana knew perfectly well that she was only coming to her companion's aid, that she viewed the girl from the Outland islands as a villain or aggressor. Ilana did not agree with that sentiment but could understand the viewpoint. To them she was the bad guy, but she really just wanted to be left alone. The title of centurion was enough reason to willfully step foot in this hell. All she could imagine was a barren wasteland of dry dirt, littered with hot patches of fire. She looked down at herself, raising a hand in front of her. To her surprise it wasn't burned or tarnished, not like in the vivid vision she had moments ago as she was lost in thought.

Said vacancy of the eyes left her as she suddenly snapped out of her half trance. She had no idea there were more men on the ship, let alone a scraggly one such as this. Bracken, the guide. Implying he was a native to No Man's land. That alone sent a chill up her spine, an ominous feeling, one surely to strengthen in times to come. She did not try to maintain eye contact with the man, only side eyeing as she did before staring down the floor.

Then came the country boy, Leo. He looked to be as upbeat as the others, if not groggier and a bit weirder. The way he wrapped himself up in blankets, yet still complained it was cold. As a frog as he put it. Ilana did not find it all that cold, in fact it only seemed to get warmer. That however could just be her. Perhaps nerves were the cause, simply nerves. But once again, she paid the hick little mind. She had enough going on up there to shove thoughts of newcomers in. Ilana lastly took a quick glance at Dalton, who too looked to have plenty on his mind. He was, in a way, leading the charge as a Centurion. She had mixed feeling about their group, mostly negative despite her desire to join their ranks. It was only a means to an end though, she would feel no comradery towards them. But as of right now, this Dalton person was the one she could most relate to in the sense of being irritated.

Jet Emphoa Goliath Fred Colon ManofManyRoles

 

[Jet]

​

Isaac was unusually slow to answer her question. Instead he paced the sqaure carefully measuring his response, eyes glossy as he said, "Not everyone in Nye is bad."

"People are the same no matter what language they speak, no matter the color of their flag or the book they read before bed, but kings view themselves as shepherds of the sheep. Their people are livestock to be skinned and cut apart, strays culled to prevent the herd from running astray."

"There are some kings who treat their flocks with care, but Nye has never been ruled by such men." He stopped beside the fountain and touched the worn white stone, gently sighing as he said, "The last king of Acadia — the city that surrounds us now, was the most caring shepherd of all."

"Yet Nye killed him because they feared his flock, or perhaps they feared the influence he could have one day. To show that cruelty doesn't accompany every crown." He lowered his head and grimaced at the old memory, like a broken bone that never quite healed. "I must say, I'm glad you're not from Nye, even now I harbor a grudge for the decisions they made."

He knew it wasn't right but couldn't help his bias, not when Nye brainwashed most of its people. They lived in a bubble where they were the center of everything. Where they lived in the freest, greatest place on planet earth, and hearing those delusions would only annoy him. Instead she was from a righteous place as Acadia once was, where kings treated people with kindness instead of oppressing them. Where killing was a last resort and razing cities was unheard of.

If only the entire world was like that.

Isaac knew he wouldn't live long enough to see such a place, but with young people like Yua? Maybe there was a chance for those who followed him. "Dewamna eh? No wonder you're such a good lass. The good king always wanted to visit but never had the chance."

Isaac considered asking about the attack, but there was no point when she barely knew herself. Instead he filed away the question to the back of his mind, deciding to ask Felix when he returned.

ManofManyRoles

 

[Lost Echo]

“Sorry.” Anya reached a hand down and plucked at a seam of her legs. “It’s just been on my mind a lot this week.” That and how little progress she’d made toward finding Hannah. All she’d done was send Blake back. Her hand shifted to a small compartment at midthigh, stuffed with tokens from everyone she was close to. They were together.

Ava surprised her (had she just said she’d robbed a bank before?). Anya had to keep in mind that she didn’t really know her. Sure, she trusted (mostly) her through Mark, but first impressions weren’t always true. She’d have to keep that in mind for everyone here. ‘Especially with how much she’d changed,’ she thought, glancing at Narzas then back down at the sheets.

Still, as she parsed through what the Herculean woman said a Herculean task, Anya nodded. It was true, they’d have to know the area to steal from it. So it was likely an insider. Or it could have been traded between the multiple factions of Nye; the crane girl had learned enough about the city to realize it was not united. Or evenly split. No, there were too many factions to keep track of, most of them hidden. Still, one of those wanting to know more about the poison could have taken the body. Anya hadn’t even thought of that.

She wanted to sigh and cover her face, but Johan started to answer her. First with a reprimand. She flushed and looked down muttering, “I’ll watch what I say then.” She had thought it’d be safe to let her tongue run a bit, but apparently not. She told herself to be pleased with the warning. It was kinder than he had to be. He explained that Nye was incompetent arrogant, but she still believed Tefra had a point. Nye could have used the extra opportunity to show off its strength--centurions doing good deeds instead of just being killers.

Her face shut down, closing off entirely when he denied knowing about the children. Maybe it was true (they likely didn’t need people of his skill to kidnap them.) But that was another avenue closed. She wouldn’t bring it up. Not to them. She’d told Ava about Hannah, about why she’d joined instead of just showing up to watch. She softened as Narzas spoke. With a nod, she simply said, “Thanks.” She knew Hannah hadn't been at the arena. Blessing Bohr for that.

Then Ava brought up Mark. Anya wasn’t sure why they were avoiding his name--it’s not like they hadn’t been visiting him the past week--but she couldn’t stop from frowning, grief flickering over her. “Yeah…he would.” He’d probably know what it was just from describing it. So many times she’d wanted to talk to him about it. Have him solve it like he seemed to solve all her problems when she was little. But he’d been so hurt. The centurion could heal the wounds, but not regrow the muscles that had burned away. Even Spicy was slow, making sure everything was right. She could admit to herself it was scary to look at him, somehow more skeletal than human. She hadn’t thought he could be badly hurt.

Her eyes flicked back up to Ava at her name. She blinked, her brain slow to translate the deluge of words. Something about a game where you had to distract…then poison some guy, no she was referring to Tefra there. “Right.” Came out first, even though she was utterly confused. “I might need to know more about the game to understand.” It kind of reminded her of Capture the Flag; she’d spent hours playing it with her group.

Suddenly the ship tilted. Seated, Anya tried to grab onto the table, but that started to slide with her. Her feet dragged with a loud scrape across the floor. When it started to flip the other way, she pushed off backward, skidding the chair. As soon as her feet were free she merged with Kallos, large wings bursting forth and taking her into the air. It was a little awkward, as she kept her legs with her (and they were slightly heavier due to her and Mischa’s upgrades). First, her flared wings hit the current, pushing her forward unexpectedly. A large flap and she lifted higher, but she still had to swerve to avoid hitting Johan and Narzas in the head. She landed facing the stern, then turned around. “What the hel was that?!” She asked, her voice distorted through her avian features. She’d lost her arms, turning them into wings in her hasty merge. She looked around, waiting for it to happen again. “Should I check with the captain?”

Flying faster than the craft wasn’t easy per se, but it was doable. She landed beside Ren while he was calming his…cheetah? She was pretty sure that’s what it was. “Rough seas Captain?” She asked sardonically, hearing Ren accepting a ‘point.’ This guy was an asshole if he did that for the shits and giggles. Still, as she unmerged with Kallos, she kept silent as the younger boy asked to see the engine. Effing Einstein, that would be so much fun. She hoped the asshole said yes.

Huntertabbysandshark3 Jet rozukitsune ZackStop

 

[Lost Echo]

Vixie barely blinked at Nihal’s non sequitur. She was getting used to him always being “buzzed.” Maybe. It was weird. He was a lot different than his performances portrayed. She still loved him! If nothing else, Vivian was loyal. It was just, she expected some changes, but the drinking thing was a lot. She didn’t know how to deal with it really. She just ignored it, even though it kind of felt naughty to hang out with him. But he’d been so kind at the arena. He’d looked for her.

She couldn’t help but look at Nihal as if he were insane when he spoke of confidence on Bean. He already was going to toy with them, like chess but crueler, and Vixie didn’t believe he cared about pawns. She looked back to Faraji and agreed with the undertone of his sentence. Especially after Goliath had listed all of her flaws. She knew she had to keep it together, literally had to, to stay alive. But Vixie could do it. If she survived the inferno in the stadium, she could manage this.

‘I would still fight!’ Vixie thought, even if she’d been stabbed. Her fire could reach where she could not. She knew to make a spectacle of herself if she were ever taken. To fight, scream set them on fire. Anything to make sure people--well, they’d be less likely to help in the Undercity, but if they were asked, they’d remember her. It’d be easier to find her. Maybe they wouldn’t even look. Would she want to be alive then? She’d read of monks self-immolating. She had fire.

Which she used to glare at Goliath, grateful for the anger: it held back the pressure behind her eyes. “Yes, yes. So good. Instead of saying that, you had to be an ass.” The word felt good to use. “Do you think I want to be here? It’s not like any of you do. You’re an idiot if you do. But I want to help. I can’t go home without risking my parents. At least you guys know how to fight.” She scuffed her foot on a step, dust flaring out again. “I helped in the arena. I can do it here.” Her voice decrescendoed, but she got the words out.

“I guess I’m just here for the badge. It will improve my life. People listen more when you have that distinction,”

She scoffed, thinking he didn’t have anything important to say anyway. She listened to Bean, as expected not taking this seriously. She was going to help. She was going to survive. To be safe. She had to focus on the case. “Were the lost centurions used to being detectives?” She had no idea how the legendary soldiers were divided.

Her words were covered by Goliath’s demand for Bean to take back his familiar. Looking at him again made her shudder. She remembered dares as a kid to touch each other’s familiars. It’d be the lightest of grazes, but it was so wrong they couldn’t do more.

Anne Boolean Arcanist Jet Goliath

 

[ManofManyRoles]

Charlie Redding​

Charlie's attention snapped to the sound of a whistle, eyes landing on a woman with hair reminiscent of snowy fields...or freshly fallen ash, to one's preference course. Mounted atop her shoulder was an owl, the sight getting the attention of the bird mounted to Charlie's own shoulder. Wary and untrustworthy eyes took stock of the new arrival, the same sort of look just about everyone had received so far that sought to rip the soul out, examine it, and put it back with a 'atta boy' clap to the metaphorical shoulder. She opened her mouth to introduce herself, only to snap it shut as Zulan was so kind as to do it for her. "Fuckin' 'ell, just say my piece for me will ya," she grumbled in her usual gruff tone of voice, side-eyeing Zulan. If one more person introduced her for her, she was punching the closest person. Which, hopefully, meant Renn would be well out of arms reach by then for the poor girls' own wellbeing. Eyes glanced to Kilderkin as she showcased a scar like it was a trophy to show off...and for once, Charlie had to give credit where it was do. It was a decent scar...which also meant that if things came to blows or she was getting stabbed in the back, she had a decent place to target now. "Piss off with the everyone talk, will ya? I've no use for a shiny medal or some fancy fuckin' title, savvy?"

There came an irritated twitch of her eyebrow as Kilderkin took the liberty to elaborate that she disliked centurions, and she could feel her temple start to pulse. She was getting a headache again, she was officially at her limit when it came to a social and now there was a new person to the mix. And if one more person spoke for her, she was going to throw a swing...which meant, again, Renn would probably be best outside of arms reach by that point. "For the record, I don't care fer nobody. Centurious ain't special on that list. If I'm recallin' correctly, I just said I'm allergic to bullshit." As she spoke Charlie's hand moved without permission into her jacket to fish out a cigarette from a package. The deathly stick landed squarely between her lips and the click of a zippo could be heard before it raised up and-...she looked down, realizing what she was doing. There came an audible ptoo as she spit it out on the ground away from Renn once again, the zippo stored away. Instead, she fished out another lolly, slipping it into her jaws. She had been on edge the moment she stepped on the ship, and the slights that she perceived were only adding onto it...and thus, her mood would only get worse before it improved. Instead she elected to ignore the newcomer for now, as obviously Kilderkin and Zulan were content to speak for her, and speak with Renn for now.

"Fireworks, eh? Now that's flashy. Do different colors as well, then?" Though her chance to find some sort of stability was removed as Renn decided she no longer wanted to be melancholy, jumping upright and rushing over to meet the new face. Standing upright herself finally, then, she was content to keep her back flat against the wall she was against, hands shoved into the pockets of her leather jacket, watching the room silently. The Pitohui on her shoulder jumped off her shoulder to fly down to the cigarette she'd spit out and land on her shoulder again, poking it against her face as if to taunt her, which only earned her to flick the cigarette out of its mouth. "Cut it out, ya fuckin c-" she was once again interrupted by the bird electing to sing her the song of its people, "I know I'm quittin', no need ta be a fuckin' taunt."

Fred Colon rozukitsune EldridSmith Emphoa​

 

[ManofManyRoles]

Yua Smith
ユア・スミス
Yua watched the old man pace silently before her, as if each new step added a new thought to be expounded on. Then, finally, he responded, and his response wasn't without merit. It was well thought out, and it wasn't so black and white as to label all people from a single city as monsters. No, he was fair in his assessment and didn't decide everything should be measured by the minority actor. She was silent for a long while after he finished speaking, her ivory and golden prosthetic reaching up to rest on his shoulder as they sat together offering a simple squeeze. "Nye does speak of a different story...but it's not one I've necessarily found much stock in, myself. Many people I know do. But we've nothing to go on, baseless assumptions I'm afraid. I...frankly abhor an unjust ruler, be they a king, noble...elected. Anything it's...not right. We are the only species on this planet with the potential to do great things in union, but many exploit such kindness. It's why I wanted to put my skill to use here."

She removed her hand slowly from Isaac's shoulder, folding her hands in her lap as she closed her eyes in thought. "I'm sorry, for everything your people have gone through, and you have gone through, sir. They're wounds I cannot mend, tears I can't dry. I will do everything in my power, though, to do what I can...if it's any consolation, I'm not Nye's number one fan myself. My...family interacts with many faces, Nye or otherwise. I hear many things, there's a sort of disconnect with Nye and other places. It's...unfortunate. Nye seems to embody 'do as I say, not as I do'. I've been, only a few times. And Felix has always been close to me when I have to visit. It's...not the most amazing place on earth like some people say. You have my personal promise, I will do everything I can to help here and better myself in the process! While I'm here...do you have questions for me, sir? I have so many I'd like to ask, but I'm the stranger in your house, it's rude of me not to offer to speak of myself and give answers where there's curiosity."

​

Jet

 

[Jet]

​

"Oh you know," Zak stopped pacing besides Elriel. "Was there to find the holy grail, sword in the stone, little bit a treasure for me stash." He snickered and kicked his ball between his feet, passing the time like a true Macragge lad. "Just fuckin with ya mate, was there to help train one of the fighters."

He shadowboxed the air with a cocky little smile, ending his combo with a crisp uppercut. "He bit the dust but look where I landed yeah? Prime spot to make a penny." He lowered his hands and leaned back against the wall, watching Mozzie push around the soccer ball. His familiar wrinkled its nose and then, like a true crackhead, mounted the ball and used it like a treadmill, rolling around the room like an acrobat.

"Look mate." Zak locked eyes with Adamaris. "Ain't about reactions so to speak, just bored out me fuckin mind. Never knew travel could be this bland."

He was used to dumber men who punched each other for cheap laughs, never a dull moment around them. He could always have a drink and hear stories from across the world, or plan his next lick with the shady ones. In comparison these people were... well... too bloody decent. They were upstanding humans instead of the degenerates he was used to, and that made things a little slow.

"From the bottom of me heart," he said, snapping from his nostalgic thoughts. "You're lovely people, real salt of the earth types, but take this specimen yeah?" He approached Mav and put his hand on the man's shoulder, leaning on him like a post. "Did you hear what he said?"

Zak pointed at the nerd. "The thing about chimps? What's a man supposed to do with that?" He shook his head in utter disbelief. He couldn't understand the nerd no matter how hard he tried, which admittedly wasn't very hard. But it was still confusing. He was obviously kidding yet there Mavior stood, acting like it was the most serious thing in the world. He was like a black hole where comedy was sucked in and sumerily died, making every joke an exercise in futility.

"If comedy were say, a plant right?" Zak paced the room as Mozzie rolled around on the ball. "He's like a gallon of weed killer mixed with a strong bit a gin, so you can light the plant on fire after it's dead."

"Follow me?" He stopped beside the big slab of meat — wall of metal, big tree or whatever his name was. Zak wasn't really sure. He remembered something about Bergins this or Ivankov that, but who could be sure? Who was he but a simple man with an overstuffed brain, unable to remember names yet? "You're a good sport slab," he began. "Good thing we're on the same page, cause you'd snap the rope and piledrive a building on the way down, maybe an old grandma out for lunch."

He smirked and watched Ivan help Ace to the kitchen, clicking his teeth under his breath. He figured she could get around with her crutches and a little elbow grease, but everyone around him was a bleeding heart. He didn't knock them for caring but with every act of kindness they did, he felt more and more out of place.

"Cute, ya'd make a good couple." He turned from the love-fest and looked at the other three, distracting himself with another mission. To give them nicknames to match the rest of them. "So we've got Komodor Zak, quite like the sound of that." He winked at Elriel with a little smirk. He wasn't going to give the satisfaction of taking offense. "If the shoe fits eh?"

"Like with you," he said to the noble. "You're Teacup."

"You're Zebra." He pointed at the white stripe in Ada's hair, then faced the emotionless robot, cryptid alien or whatever Mav was. "And you're Spaceman."

"Poetic innit? Now for some grub." He expectantly looked at the chefs and patted his rumbling stomach, nearly drooling at the thought of freshly made food.

Goliath EldridSmith Emphoa ManofManyRoles