Fantasy The Great Games of Nye

[Jet]

​

Isaac listened along with the attentiveness of a student, nodding in agreement with every statement she made. He could certainly respect someone who thought the way she did. The world needed more empaths who actually wanted to do good with their lives, even if it seemed pointless at times. "I suppose," he said with a ponderous frown. "I do wonder if you saw any centurions when you were in Nye? The one named Darius perhaps?"

He frowned at a memory he wished to remove from his brain, but it only lasted a moment. His smile returned and he met her gaze with the warmth of a father. "You're wise beyond your years, truly young miss."

"Most are blinded by the shining lights of the big city, the lies they tell like it means nothing at all, but you know what they say." He reached up and stretched out his old tired back, cracking his spine in a dozen places. "Oof! He reached back and massaged his shoulder blade. "What was I saying....

His face went blank for a moment.

"Ah yes... the saying of course. That lies corrode the soul like acid on your skin, that heavanly treasures cannot be carried or built by your hands, that everything else fades with time. "

"Pain is exactly the same way you know, I often thank God for giving us short memories." He quietly chuckled below his breath. "My people were the true victims, but they don't think about the past anymore." His eyes sparkled like gems in the morning sun, showing a measure of happiness despite the topic. "Not when there's so much to look forward to!"

He stood and shuffled down the old narrow street, nearing a home made of finished wood with a deep shine. It's roof had greeen shingles that softly reflected the morning sun, and the many trims were painted to match. Its sides were covered in creeping ivy dotted with little white flowers, and around the house was a garden of grass, small trees and flower plants.

"Home sweet home," he proudly chimed. "I live alone, plenty of room for you and your friend. You're welcome to stay until you're ready to leave, no matter how long that may be."

ManofManyRoles

 

[Emphoa]

Evaline placed her hands onto her hips as she looked at the lot that was gathered. Quirking a brow when the basically naked one seemed to speak up for the others and she gave a little smile and dipped her head. "A pleasure- I'll be looking forward to working along with the group of you." She spoke up with a twinkle in her eyes, before her gaze settled back onto Zulan and she placed a hand on her hip before she laughed out a little bit. "Farm work- my whole life, up at nearly four in the morning to help take care of the farm just about as soon as I could walk." She chirped out, waving it off a little bit. "No working out needed when you're tilling the fields, harvesting- not to mention the hay bales." It was a long list, one she was thinking about every morning she woke up.

Her eyes flitted between each person as they spoke, but Renn's outstretched hand caught her attention and she gave a firm but friendly handshake with a bright smile of her own. "Thanks- hope I can offer a helping hand or two. It's what I like to do." She puffed out before she pulled her hand back and crossed her arms over her chest with a little shrug of her shoulders. She didn't speak up just yet, however, and she let Charlie have her piece. Part of her reminded her of some of the grouchier- older man on the ranches who would swear up a storm when something went hay wire with some of the equipment, and she smiled ever still. Finally, glancing back at the others.

"I was in the crowds watching my brother compete- I don't care for or have an opinion on Centurions- I don't need to when all that I went or need is on my farm and in my business." She stated, faltering, briefly, as she thought about Leon and her chest clenched painfully tight before she fixated her eyes back onto the group. "But since I was a survivor, they dragged me along with everyone else that managed to pull through. I'm only going along to see if there might be anything I can do to help." She snorted a little bit at the thought before she placed her hands onto her hips. "I'm used to mostly metal working and farm work- but I suppose I know enough about a thing or two to hold up my own. Not sure what to really expect at this prison, however."

Evaline rubbed the back of her neck at that thought and she sighed out a moment after. "I'm not even really interested in the centurion business- just helping."

EldridSmith ManofManyRoles Fred Colon rozukitsune

 

[Arcanist]

Brynwyr Protheroe

Mentions: Jet Lost Echo EldridSmith ZackStop

Monbon​

The tension aboard the vessel was enough to choke them. Brynwyr noted the bickering, though, had no enjoyment and enough common sense not to involve herself. The researcher attempted peace and democracy, asking the musician about his instrument. The drunkard continued wetting his lips with the same poison that caused him to be so unruly in the first instance. Tessia, well, she watched her chuck a box, claiming she could not open it, and she thought perhaps she should try chucking it too. It could release much tension and anger she felt as of late.

“Oh, well, I’m sorry to hear that,” Rhys offered his condolence to the musician. It was genuine considering what he too had lost in this tragedy. He tried to lift spirits from the otherwise bleak and tense atmosphere. “I, for one, think it’s quite the instrument. Such an interesting sound!” Rhys nodded, in his attempt to enjoy a different culture, something new…even if the sound was strange. He preferred the idea of a flute, but he would not be so cruel as to shut down Baryn’s talent with the instrument.

Brynwyr was not surprised by Rhys’s enthusiasm of the instrument, though, did wonder if he truly enjoyed it, or if he was being polite. He was awfully polite to people. Not that she wasn’t, but she did not waste time on flattery. And not here, considering they had a job to do. She simply had to work with them, even if once, she may have had to compete against them too.

To her quite visible surprise, Brynwyr blinked at Tessia’s admittance that there was no plan, no strategy, just ‘a jump in headfirst and hope for the best!’ mentality. “Right. I see…is that not rather dangerous considering what we’re going into?” No, a stupid question as soon as she asked it. Tessia would not have considered that if she was one to just jump into things.

What idea of a plan they had was handed to her on a scrap piece of paper, and she took it, her eyes scanning over the contents. Though, she glanced up again, finding Tessia staring at her, waiting. She flushed when she realised what she was waiting on. “Oh, you want me to read this…” She murmured, sheepish as she cleared her throat. She felt rather tense now. It was not as if she hadn’t read things aloud, but she often preferred not to. She was not a knight of grandiose speeches or a starving poet of their time as others quite often dreamed of being.

“Upon close examination of the terrorist’s – uh, Tefra, for clarification – notebook, we have since ascertained part of the identity of another accomplice who would be involved with aiding them against their greatest enemy – assuming to be the authorities, denizens, and wider continent of Nye. While we were not able to obtain a name within the notebook, various readings revealed that they reside somewhere within Old Umbria with identifiers of tallness and a blindfold.”

Brynwyr continued, squinting a little. She swallowed back, hoping to regain some moisture in her throat. “Your task is to locate this person and bring them to justice. Your choice is dependent on you – dead, alive, maimed, or otherwise. Any accomplice of Tefra is a threat and cannot be allowed to roam free, given their unpredictability and the danger they pose. Your efforts will be rewarded substantially upon completion of this mission, once you have provided evidence of the swift capture – or removal – of this associate. Glory be to Nye.”

Brynwyr folded the paper back up again, cringing a little. “You weren’t joking about it being long-form poetry…” She looked Tessia. “So, this is what we’ve come to Old Umbria for. To seek out this person and…well. Be rid of them.” The knight assumed it would be some ancient technology or some secret that Tefra wished to obtain here, not necessarily some sort of associate.

 

[EldridSmith]

Zulan nodded as Kilderkin remarked that healing was a useful skill. Though she claimed to be clumsy, which considering what he saw from the fights, he really didn't buy. She babbled on about centurions, she was talkative... perhaps too talkative. It wasn't that he didn't believe she could be so talkative, it just didn't fit as far as he could tell... and admittedly he preferred the others who didn't talk so much. Not that he was against it but more that he preferred well thought out conversations with lots of philosophy. Still Kilderkin inquired of the newcomer with several questions, a few of which were likely on other's minds.

Renn didn't say much other than introduce herself to the newcomer, but she seemed to have really perked up compared to before, putting his mind to ease on the thoughts of a teammate freaking out mid mission. Charlie still seemed grumpy considering he introduced her and her untrusting eyes gave Evaline the same soul search. As for the group, most of them had bird familiars... owl, phoenix, and whatever charlie had. He was glad familairs didn't eat one another considering his crab could be considered a tasty snack... though they'd have a hell of a time trying to eat the little fella. Charlie piped up once more with a snippy response to cut out the everyone talk and talked about how she didn't care for anyone. Though she took the time to remark how flashy Renn's abilities were.

Evaline, the newcomer, seemed to have similar experiences causing him to grin, he himself having farmed and herded when he was in the tribe. Though it seemed his traditional attire was very eye catching, which was odd as it covered everything it needed to even when he was jumping. Perhaps just another cultural difference. "This is common for those of us in Africa, it is good to meet someone who can relate despite being from different cultures." He said with a friendly smile, while he didn't know much of hay bales, he inferred they were heavy. However at the mention of her brother his eyes softened, still their glow turning more gentle as did his tone, though it was also filled with compassion. "I am sorry for your loss." He said giving her time before speaking up again. "We are unsure what to expect as well, however caution is a must, and I've seen too many overoptimistic people die on the battlefield for their views." He said glancing at Kilderkin. "Regardless the help is much appreciated, and if you need anything feel free to ask. Just like we may have need of your metalworking capabilities." He remarked. "Everyone has their own past, I can tell you mine once we break up to rest considering the journey if you're interested... though I don't think there's much else we can do right now aside practice teamwork and build trust." He remarked, considering how untrusting Charlie has been, and how suspicious Kilderkin is... it would be a tall order.
Fred Colon rozukitsune ManofManyRoles Emphoa Jet

 

[Lost Echo]

“Esther,” the researcher clarified, finding the title odd. It sounded like he was an intern. And she hated interns. She hated it when she was one, and that feeling only grew when she had to deal with them herself. He lacked the personal connection to the history of the music, but claimed to care broadly for the subject, “Perhaps if we don’t destroy everything, there will be evidence of their music.” She laid the lure. The man had a tiger: he had to fight some. If he could stop the others from trampling their way through the ruins, she’d be happy. Dismissing him, as he threatened them with more of his music (perhaps another tone would improve it) she started to turn her attention to the centurion, but hesitated when he mentioned the deaths of the his band (were they all didgeridoo players?). What did he mean fill in for them? Not one to poke at the wounds of others, she continued to turn her attention to the centurion, but the drunk obviously spoke to her first.

Esther raised an eyebrow at the nickname but accepted it with ‘grace’, also known as a snort. She wasn’t a young girl shy about her body, nor desperate for attention from anyone. She’d had enough partners to be discerning and the drunk wasn’t it. Better for everyone to be sober enough to enjoy themselves. With an eye roll, she let him be as he tried for deafness via drink. As if he thought they were connected. Perhaps he’d fall off. But as long as he stayed away from her, and quieter than the moaning whale, she wouldn’t threaten to make him so with her wind.

In her distraction, the centurion hit her. She was healed well enough that she just moved with the blow, twisting to face her. After a moment, she realized it was a gesture of comradery, but damn did that girl not know how to regulate her strength. Or perhaps she did, a scarier thought. Tessia brought out an unopenable box, the very challenge drawing her attention. She winced as the woman banged it against the floor, but knelt beside her when she started searching her pockets once more, “May I?”

“Sure knock yourself out, really you can try banging it against your head!”

“Maybe the drunk’s later; it’ll add to the music.” Standing once more, she stepped back, turning the cube in her hands. As the knight read from the parchment (which she noted was far too thin to have a copy of the journal within) she ran a gloved finger over the thick metal, *investigating* it; it was obviously unharmed by the brutal handling. It was engraved…or perhaps impressed, for she could see no tool marks in the delicate filigree. With a guiding finger, she directed a thin stream of air over the surface, searching for seams or anything uneven. She found nothing. She wondered what the centurion’s element was: she seemed the type to light things on fire when she was frustrated…or having fun. If this little box held up to that…perhaps electricity?

She raised her head once the knight had finished reading, including the trademark praise to Nye. Tossing it back to its owner, she commented, “The filigree’s from Kratoria; maybe if you’re lucky we’ll head west enough to find something from that civilization.”

Then she focused on the mission once more, believing Brynwyr’s summary. “That’s it? Find someone, and they don’t even care what information this person has? Or why they’re living in these ruins? What they’ve learned from them?” She shook her head, remembering how useless Lord Vincent had been. Information as needed, her ass. “And the journal, surely we should be able to look at it. They could have copied the relevant pages if they held some secret Nye didn’t want us to know.” She glanced back at the centurion. Maybe she jumped into missions without a plan because she couldn’t trust the information she was given.

EldridSmith ZackStop Jet Monbon Arcanist

 

[Jet]

The captain cackled like an old coot in a padded room, one eye wide as the other narrowed to a slit. "The roughest seas indeed! I've never seen such a tempestuous gale!" He turned the wheel a little and the ship rocked to one side, before turning it back with the same effect. "The winds just keep comin!"

He grinned and tapped the wheel with his finger, mulling Ren's question with his beard swaying in the breeze. "I suppose so," he said. "No harm in checking the engines out, but don't bother the workers yeah?"

"And if they tell ya to fuck off, then fuck off quickly." He nodded at the door to the bowels of the ship, leading to a steam engine powered by flame stones. The water was boiled in a drum and steam was forced through twisting copper pipes, leading to the propellers flanking the ship's hull. The room was sweltering and two sweaty men, burly and covered in grime, watched turning cogs for any sign of failure. They sat at a small wooden table and between them was a bottle of rum, cheap and strong with a tenth left at the bottom. Their laughter floated through the door as the teens made their approach, and when they entered, both of their heads snapped sideways.

The first one stood from the table. "A tourist eh?"

The second one, a much smaller man, chuckled and leaned back in his chair. "I heard they're your new apprentices."

"Oh fuck off will you?"

"You've always been talented with words you know, but you're aging like fine wine with quips like that."

"I'll kill you after they leave." The bigger man put his hands on his hips. "Don't mind him! Welcome to the heart of the beast, mind the temperature." He wiped sweat from his reddened brow. "Hot enough to cook eggs on the floor in here."

Lost Echo ZackStop

 

[ZackStop]

Ren was prepared for the worst seeing the Captain's antics, when he looked off to the side to see someone soaring above. It was Anya of course, landing a few feet beside him and Phalanx. "Wow, she's so cool!" He thought to himself as his mind shifted to her bout in the first round. Now here she was sticking an awesome landing with a quick-witted quip. The girl had it all figured out Ren thought, while he was just stumbling around up here. It made him feel shy, more so than he usually does around girls his age.

Perhaps this old man smelling of rum was a blessing in disguise. Before that wave of awkwardness hit Ren, He could feel the ship rock again. This old coot definitely had something wrong with him. Phalanx behaved much like a skittish cat, trying his best to remain stable, his paws sliding around trying to get a grip. Ren on the other hand fell back against the railing before gripping on to stay upright until this rollercoaster stopped. "This is gonna be a long trip!" he said aloud, but was relieved to hear that their wish was granted.

He made his way down, surprised that Anya was tagging along. He would have never guessed she be into this sort of thing. He didn't know how to feel really, he just tried his best not to seem awkward. He gave his head a little scratch before opening his mouth. "S-so you're a gearhead too huh? I wouldn't have expected that." He said glancing over, afraid of making too much eye contact. "I've been tinkering with stuff basically all my life. Fixing up old tech at my Grand Dad's shop, and putting things together. Welding, smelting, forging..." He was rattling on, counting on his fingers as he listed things, but came to a stop as some redness built in his ears while his face got warm. "Sorry, I'm talking way too much!" He let out a light laugh in an attempt to collect himself. Now Ren was mostly concerned that he was interrupting her, possibly making her upset.

Now as they entered the engine room, Ren was taken aback by the humidity and pure heat blasting in his face, but he was not entirely surprised. It was an engine room after all. Phalanx however, feeling this smoldering heat and not at all intrigued as the two humans were, opted to turns around. He glanced at the secretary bird before heading back on deck for a nap. "Way to ditch me, Phalanx." Ren said under his breath as he watched his familiar leave.

Ren was so fascinated by all that surrounded him that he didn't notice the two men at first. He walked over to one of several pipes, practically able to feel it vibrate through the floor. He wasn't dumb enough to just reach out and touch it with his bare hand as much as he'd want to, but then his eyes drifted up to some of the cogs, recalling information found in his books. He was in his own world, before realizing that he was standing right by the two men at their drinking table. He looked over, then up as the larger man cursed out the other. "Oh- Apprentices?" His eyes lit up a bit with excitement. Somehow in Ren's stupor he managed to hear the word, understand the context, yet completely miss the sarcasm and respond rather late. "I'd be honored if I could learn a thing or two from you guys! I came down here hoping to learn something." He was totally oblivious, sure to make the two men yuk it up. He glanced back at Anya with an enthusiastic grin still on his face as he spoke with two stokers.

Jet Lost Echo rozukitsune Huntertabbysandshark3

 

[Lost Echo]

As the ship spun again, Anya’s legs locked in a futile attempt to stick to the deck. As she started to lean, she merged with Kallos again for a moment, his wings helping her keep balance before the ship was righted once more. Still, she laughed as she unmerged a second time, wanting the captain to like her. It was easier when they liked you. Inside, she cursed the asshole. Adults were always like this: flaunting their power over them. The older they were, the worse they got. Nonetheless, his easy agreement to let them check out the engine was enough to keep a real smile on her face. Even if she dreaded the thought of him tipping the ship while underneath. What if she hurt the engine?...would she be allowed to fix it! That sounded wonderful

Ren led the way, climbing deeper into the ship. She frowned as he expressed surprise at her interest. “Who do you think made these?” She tapped her foot against the wall, letting it echo throughout the hall. He rambled on about his life story, something about his granddad having a shop that he learned in, but Anya could tell he was just nervous. The kid obviously didn’t get out much. She waved away his apology, simply filling in her own once he’d stopped. “Started from scratch, just what I could find around the island. It was only once I got better fixin’ things that I got enough money to buy shit. Had to power it myself for a while, until,” laughter broke through her sentence, causing her to stop abruptly. With a hand brushing off the previous topic, she grinned, “This is more important. Ready?”

That little door held back a monsoon of heat. It was like she was breathing hot water. Even her notoriously straight hair could curl under this. “Woah…” She barely noticed as her familiar followed the cheetah back up into the cool air of the deck. Moving near the former assassins, then folding its wings as if in sleep.

Stepping inside was worse. She immediately felt the metal of her legs absorb the heat, but what worried her the most was the humidity. Of course, this was a steam engine, she should have expected it. She hesitated a moment, letting the men’s banter wash over her as she wondered what to do. She could merge with Kallos again (the poor bird was going to stay in more than out at this rate.) She could leave her legs outside. But the part of her that hated being different or inspirational like the stupid games said, balked at standing out. So she followed Ren in regardless. They weren’t waterproof (she never considered swimming,) but they were water resistant. (She couldn’t just have herself be shocked when sprayed with anything.) It should be fine.

Ren, obviously missing the banter himself (which now she could see the engine in full, she couldn’t judge), was eager to learn, and his grin was infectious. “I’d even just be happy meeting her.” Her eyes were transfixed by the cogs of the machine. “I’m used to smaller ones.” She pat her legs, the concern flickering before dying down once more. “She’s beautiful.”

Jet ZackStop

 

[Jet]

​

Nazir sprinted up to the roof of his old apartment building, bursting through the door as he wildly panted. His nose wrinkled at the smell of smoke on the wind. The sound of rioters hit like the pounding hammer of a blacksmith. The building shook below him and he could sense something in the air, a charged malice from the core of Xysma's soul. He felt it inside him too. His contempt for the nobles who viewed him like a mangy dog, their eyes gleaming with petty greed and bloodlust. He wanted to see them dead like so many of his close friends and family, but then again, he didn't want to hurt anyone at all. He wanted peace but that wasn't possible now,

Was it?

He approached the edge and stopped at the retaining wall, eyes closing as shivers ran up his spine. He could feel something else in the air now, righteous like a message sent down from above. The divine right to freedom from his masters. The right to live without a boot pressing on his back. The right to happiness for once in his sorry life.

He opened his eyes and smiled at the sound of chanting prisoners, a chorus of the damned who filled the streets like waves on the sea. He watched them advance to the fortress as one unstoppable force, carrying torches and red flags with a black fist. He looked down and saw a market set ablaze with the same fire burning within him. He heard the chants of "Down with Nye!" screamed by thousands of people, untold masses of unremarkable people, each a worm but here at the cusp of history, they would become giants.

Nazir narrowly smiled and then, like he'd been possessed by the spirits of dead saints, he began to scream too. He shouted from the rooftops as a pamphlet fluttered past him, floating down over the packed crowd of people. The wind spurred it past spears and waving banners, over bonfires and lynched officials. It flew through plumes of smoke and then fluttered high above, looking down on the grid pattern of Xysma — squares of apartments surrounded by squares of narrow streets, each set ablaze by the rioters. The factories burned like second suns of fire rising to the sky, and one hundred thousand prisoners, endless and pulsing, pushed towards a fortress in the center.

The pamphlet lingered in the air until it softly landed on the ship, reading Elefthería apó Nái.

Freedom from Nye in the old tongue of Kratoria, long departed from the world. The words shook the ship as thousands chanted them far below, and the smell of burning matter was thick in the air. The ship floated through smokey plumes and gusts of superheated air, gently rocking as it reached a tower above the fortress. It was made of blackstone sucking the light from the air around it, and the walls were covered in soot from the surrounding factories.

"First stop," the captain said from the wheel. "Last stop."

A ramp extended from the ship and connected with the tower, locking in place as a door opened on the building. The entrance was dimly lit but there in the shadows, staning like resolute statues, were three people in military gear. Their maroon coats were decorated with medals and the crest of House Hydralin, lords of Xysma and all those within.

"Welcome to Xysma," one said, her white hair flowing in the breeze. Her face was young but she had the aura of a much older woman. "Hail Centurion!"

She saluted as Kwame revealed himself on the ship, slowly approaching his small group. He stood beside Kilderkin and nervously shifted in his shoes, staring at the floor beside them.

"Hail."

"Captain Hydraline." He returned her salute but he seemed empty, distantly staring through the woman. "We request harbor on your island."

"Granted." The captain turned and waved them inside. "Come, we've little time and much to discuss."

Kwame nodded and gently tapped Kilderkin's shoulder, looking down at the floor once more. "We must..."

"Speak when there's a moment, please I beg of you." His mouth pursed as the group entered the tower, trailing behind them as they stood on an elevator platform. The woman nodded and her men pulled an old mechanical lever, filling the room with the sound of crunching gears.

"I know why you're here," she began. "I've approved your investigation despite the challenges we face, but I cannot guarantee your safety. I may be able to spare a guide but even so."

"There is little more I can do, not when the fate of Xysma hangs in the balance."

The elevator moved at a quick pace and would reach the fortress within seconds, and then the group would begin their investigation. The facts of the case were known to anyone who cared to look, that two centurions had been killed near the waste processing plants, butchered by unknown assailants. The crime scene was far across town and everything in between, every street and building and market, was full of rioters and revolutionaries.

To find out the truth, not only must they content with the mystery of these murders, they must also brave the dangers of a revolution.

Fred Colon rozukitsune EldridSmith ManofManyRoles Emphoa

 

[Fred Colon]

The groups conversation and introductions came to an end, eventually. Kilderkin didn't have much more to say, so she simply garbled the appropriate platitudes when prompted, and grinned unceasingly. Eventually, however, the ship made it to its destination. Xysma.

Kilderkin scented the smoke in the air, before she saw anything. Filtering up through the atmosphere, and mingling, tainting the clean air of the upper Troposphere. When she turned to look, she could see the long, black plumes of smoke that meant buildings were being burned. It was a little odd heading towards them. Usually she saw buildings burning as her ship pulled away from somewhere.

As the ship descended, and began to dock, Kilderkin looked into her bag and put her heavy raincoat on, covering most of her body. Afterwards, she strapped something to her wrist.

Then she headed towards the disembarking ramp and watched the ship close in on the two figures in military uniforms. She used her high vantage point to see if she could spot anything of the island beyond the obvious.

When the ship finally docked, however, instead of looking the two figures up and down, Kilderkin was distracted by the arrival of their Centurion.

Kwame.

Kilderkin didn't believe in God, or luck, or anything of that nature. But sometimes... sometimes things lined up in such a way that it almost felt preordained. Seeing him on the ship, it felt impossible to imagine how could it have been anyone else. Of course he was their Centurion.

She stared openly at him. 'Kildi' had already expressed her interest in seeing the Centurion, so it wouldn't be strange for her to do. His presence here complicated things even more, especially because he knew exactly who she was, below the multiple layers of lies. Behind the several false Identities she had in place. But having given it a moment of thought, it was good that he was here. It seemed what she'd heard about him was true, if he hadn't turned her in already. The look on his face made it clear he knew who she was, and felt guilty for it. Her anger towards him had long since evaporated. It had been a useless emotion, anyway. But it seemed that Kwame still held onto the past. She could use that.

When he stood next to her and addressed the Captain, who identified herself as Captain Hydraline, she grinned her big, dumb, Sailors grin at him. Nothing in her expression would say that she knew anything about Kwame beyond what an average person would know about a famous Centurion. She was just an idiot excited to meet a Centurion.

When he tapped her on the shoulder, she turned to him,

"Mr. Kwame! So nice to meet you!" She said, and began to extend her hand for him to shake it.

"We must..." He began,

But they were cut off by Captain Hydraline.

Naturally, it was bad news. 'The Fate of Xysmas hangs in the balance'. A little melodramatic, but it certainly set a mood. Kilderkin wasn't surprised, though. She had guessed from the beginning that things would be the greatest possible clusterfuck. But with Chaos came opportunity. Especially with Kwame here...

She would have to see if she could turn things to her advantage while still earning the Centurions badge.

She glanced back at Kwame and her companions, to see how they were taking things.

EldridSmith Jet Emphoa rozukitsune ManofManyRoles

 

[ManofManyRoles]

𝓜𝓪𝓿𝓲𝓸𝓻 '𝓜𝓪𝓿𝓮𝓻𝓲𝓬𝓴' 𝓑𝓸𝓸𝓴𝓮𝓻
Ace hid the wince that she wanted to display at the open invitation to help...help if they were her too. Was she really that much of a dead weight? Was she something to pity now? The very idea set a stone in her stomach and a flare in her mind. She couldn't do what she'd like to do, but she wasn't about to be a dead weight. As Ivan made his way over to escort her she gave a little shake of her head, an off-kilter smile on her lips. "No...no, I can make the walk myself. Just...y'know, if I somehow slip onto my face, help me up then? I gotta be able to move by myself at least. Least till I'm better, y'know?" That's right. This was only temporary. Mavior would figure something out, she was certain. She wasn't smart in the kind of way he was...he'd find a solution. He was good at that. As the offer for a bag of sunflower seeds was offered she gave a nod, shifting her weight oddly to take it in her functioning arm and then grip both seed bag and crutch rung in one hand as she made her way towards the small kitchen station. "Much appreciated big guy. As for names, it's Acacia. I prefer Ace, though. Only one who calls me my birth name is the lunatic I was raised with," she commented, jutting her head back towards Maverick. As he offered her an arm she once again shook her head, and though it was a bit of effort to do so she made her way to the kitchen station, leaning her 'good' side up against the countertop. "Hey, Ada...Adamaris? Which is it? Anywho, if you're helping me in the kitchen can you get me that brown package out of the fridge, and the package of dried greens from the cabinet here? I've only got the one working side, I need a healthier set of hands. Simple recipe, low on ingredients, just like how ya want it for a trip." As she said such the mantis shrimp familiar she had in her pocket crawled out and mounted up onto the kitchen counter, doing its best to fuss with a burner to turn one on for the stovetop.

Mavior's gaze drifted between Zak and Elriel as they bantered back and forth...and then the familiar that ran around on the little ball of stone it had mounted. Mavior had been careful to memorize facts about his comrades and their familiars...even if, so far, he hadn't shown where he'd been hiding his own. Surely he had one, but he'd not shown it yet for reasons unclear. Whatever internal musing Mavior may have had was interrupted as the weight of another male came to rest on his shoulder, attention drifting over to him out of the corner of his eye. "An effective weed-killer then, but could be improved," he dryly replied...once again, the joke missing the mark or just being ignored. For Ace's part, as Zak made a part about a lovely couple she showed she was more apt for a joke, "Aw, don't tell me your jealous over there, Zak." The nickname of 'Spaceman' only earned a blank stare from Mavior once again and not a single remark. Or, at least, one could presume he was staring at them...was hard to make out where the eyes went with the goggles.

Slowly, however, like some old machine that had to shake the rust off with each movement, Mav's attention turned toward Elriel. Even if he didn't voice anything, he didn't have to. Mavior had come to understand the opinion many had on the 'nation' he hailed from, just admitting his home country could be damning depending on the company. "Not a trial? I should disagree. There is no truer trial, if one ponders it. To gain trust, you put your life on trial to another, who is to be your judge and jury. You judge what words I offer to you, and then you decide the outcome of if you trust me or not. All interaction is a sort of trial, though perhaps it's not legal, a trial all the same. By offering blunt honesty, I presume I am fairly judged." Despite his odd way of speaking which certainly didn't match Ace's in the slightest, he didn't seem...uncomfortable. If anything, he was oddly at ease, that energy he'd exuded earlier of drifting one from project to the next suddenly gone as he gave the conversations around him his full attention...perhaps overly observant attention.

"Ah boy...he asked about the plants. 'Scuse me while I disassociate from this," Ace jokingly remarked to whoever was in the kitchen with her at the time. "The plants?... They're native to Ace's and I's home region. Here," he started, carefully making his way through the craft and towards the small botany area and workstations near the entrance area until he arrived at one of the planters. Inside it housed a brilliant blue flower with a honey-sweet scent, the blooms shaped like inverted teardrops with a thin vine-like outcropping that coiled around Mavior's gloved finger as he held it near it. "Maiden's Tears. The petals can be ground into a paste that's good for burns, and the roots can be minced to help numb pain...They're often left on graves. They're popular among children since they cling, they get turned into bracelets or crowns. They're extremely hardy once they take root, fire nor flood really gets rid of them. But they don't spread...they stay where they fall and plant." He gently untwined his finger from the grasping tendril and instead prodded at a crimson bulb which suddenly expanded into a brilliant blood-red rose that was roughly the size of his hand's if they were cupped together.

"The Mortician's Rose. The roots are hallucinogenic when ground up and mixed properly. The petals are highly paralytic if ingested or if they're turned to a dust that gets into the pores. Consuming an entire rose will make you feign death for thirty minutes. However, the sap acts as a balm and can help with cuts, bruises, and low doses of acidic content...This plant," he continued down the line, fixated by the impromptu lesson he could offer. He did say he'd answer questions open and honestly, and Elriel was getting the full treatment. Next was a set of lilies which were given their own planting systems away from those other two flowers which seemed to be kept in excess compared to the rest, a milky white tone and mottled with blue flecks. "Weeping Lillies. The pollen is combustible and can work as a fire starter in a pinch. If properly cleaned, the stems can be broken down into a pulp that can be applied to a surface as a makeshift torch or glowstone. The petals themselves don't burn well, unlike the pollen. They create smog, unfortunately, it's awful if a patch catches fire...Finally-oh."

The last plant Mavior moved towards was the one he warned the rest of his companions to staunchly avoid, a large fly-trap-like plant that sported thick and dangerous-looking barbs along the rim. And, true to form, it snapped towards Mav as he got closer, and opened its 'mouth' again just as quickly. Indeed, Maviors 'oh' had been the result of the plant lunging out towards his arm and coming up short. "Devil's Mouth. Carnivorous and dangerous to tend to if you don't know what you're doing. It's actually capable of thought, I think. I haven't tested my theory yet. Just no more than an especially stupid dog is capable of, if it is. If harvested, it can make a filling meal that can sate you for twenty-four hours. The seeds can be swallowed whole and it will speed up your body's natural healing process...the issue is simply not choking on the seed. Finally...if one is creative with it, it makes for a fine trap. Devil's Mouth will bite into a limb, and especially large specimens will try their best to actively eat you. These one's only risk a hand being lost."

As Mav explained the intricacies of the plants he governed another of the 'Devil's Mouth' lunged for him, and it looked like Mavior may have just fell victim to his own botany. However, his hand moved far faster than it had any right to, grabbing plant right beneath its 'mouth' and at the base of its step as if he was throttling it. There was a little crack as he flicked his wrist with it in his grasp as if he'd snapped the neck of a small animal and released it, the stem snapped and cracked as the plant retracted back towards the planter and deep into the dirt until only it's 'mouth' remained exposed. "Don't worry...it will heal itself in time, it simply needs to spend time replanted. Those are the most important plants I grow...the others are flowers of varying names that have less important functions, or more niche ones. I can tell you of those, if you want. Though...as we're exchanging questions...will you tell me of your home?" Mavior stepped away from the planters as he turned his attention to Elriel, folding his hands behind his back in an almost business-like fashion. "I know that is an odd question, perhaps. But I've not seen any other place beyond my home, and briefly Nye...I'd like to learn of other cultures and traditions."

​

Emphoa Jet EldridSmith Goliath

 

[Emphoa]

Rat frowned- he couldn't help it with the tensions seemingly high between this woman they hardly knew- and Mischa seemingly coming to his defense. He rubbed the back of his neck, and finally- stepped forward as he placed a hand on Mischa's shoulder and he offered her a small smile. "Hey, no worries, I get it- we can back off then. I just wanted to see you smile and enjoy yourself a little." He stated, looking at Ilana and he pointed at a grin that was now plastered over his face once more. "But we can let you be- I know it's a hard time for everyone."

If anything, he didn't want to start any trouble, and if Ilana was so determined to be distasteful of others, he wasn't going to push her buttons more than he needed to. His eyes flitted back to Mischa and he finally, offered a much more kind smile. It was nice, seeing how she was trying to check in on him- but it was something he was used to here and now, and something he almost embraced. People didn't always like him, and he was okay with that, even with someone like Ilana. "I'm fine- seriously." He waved it off with that goofy smile plastered over his expression. "Slides like water right off my back- I'm more worried about you-"

Rat's head had snapped over at the appearance of another- blinking as he saw Bracken land and his eyes briefly lit up at the sight of the other's wings, but held himself back from gushing over such a familiar and he brushed his hair back. And- then when Bracken seemed to introduce himself, Rat gave alittle dip of his head and that same bright smile as he looked to the older man. "Nice to meet ya Bracken- names Rat." He puffed out with a little wave of his hand, his eyes twinkling lightly at the introduction. "Glad to have you as our guide, I'm sure you know a thing or two." He chuckled lightly, and it was just as quick that Bracken started to turn away, and another red head was approaching the group.

"Frosted frog!" He chirped out, his eyes lighting up at the phrase before he chuckled out a bit and placed his hands onto his hips. Letting the young man take a moment to introduce himself to Bracken and he chuckled out as he crossed his arms over his chest and he cocked his head to the side as he looked between Mischa and Leo and he finally looked back to the orange haired man with a little wave. "Haha! I like it, you're gonna have to teach me a phrase or two if you ave more like that up your sleeves!" Rat chirped out, basically beaming at another friendly face- and one he was glad for with the group as it was. It helped to make up for the fact that Ilana didn't seem to be fond of them.

"Farming huh? I can respect it." Rat then stated and he glanced back towards Mischa and he grinned again. "Hey hey, though it's nice to have someone we can pull into our trouble, eh?" He then stated, glancing back towards Leon and he dipped his head. "And in case you didn't hear- I'm Rat, magitech engineer."

Fred Colon Jet Goliath ZackStop

 

[rozukitsune]

Renn had run out of things to talk about with the others, though she privately agreed with Zulan that doing something to bring everyone together was a good idea... she just wasn't exactly sure how to do a trust-building exercise with someone actively pretending not to be who they were and another someone who was clearly going to be very difficult on the whole "trust" thing altogether.

As the skies began to darken, Renn frowned - wondering if there was a storm they were sailing into. As it turned out, she was correct in a fashion. The streams of smoke and dust and fire making her cough and sneeze as the young starlet peered over the ship's port railing and down into the rebellion below certainly hailed a storm alright. A storm of anger and frustration. She cowered a little, her head barely peeking up over the edge of the ship as she beheld the burning buildings and the crowds of people shouting off in the distance. Her eyes were gladly drawn to the random piece of floating paper that just so happened to flutter down beside her as everyone else gathered themselves to make landfall. She picked up the pamphlet and gave it a glance, but only recoiled from it as she deciphered the words written on it.

One thing she hadn't bothered to mention since it hadn't seemed particularly useful at the time - but Renn had done a lot of study of seemingly random subjects in her downtime. She was expected to keep up with the general populace in math, history, and grammar so she didn't embarrass herself and her family in the public eye - and she learned all the forms of art and diplomacy of course... but along with all of that free education was a love of lost languages. As Renn had not been allowed to socialize much outside of a camera, her only real friends had been books and she became rather obsessed with reading in whatever form it took. Old books in other languages, dead or not, was definitely on that list of things. She left the angry bit of paper on the deck as she rose nervously to join the others and make her way down the gangplank.

Xyzma was evidently one of the many places that hated Nye specifically with a burning passion - in this case literally. If anyone here recognized her for what she was... she was almost certainly going to be the first to die. She whimpered quietly and tried to look as small and meek as possible, staying as close to the others as she could without making it weird for them - though she wished silently she could be a child again so no one would think it odd she wanted to cling to an arm or a thigh in her terror. Even Noel nested herself on the girl's shoulder and hid beneath the voluminous copper curls.

EldridSmith , Emphoa , ManofManyRoles , Fred Colon , Jet

 

[Jet]

​

Lakkos was a sprawl of production plants and engineering firms, laboratories and huge apartment buildings. It was a place of advanced research and cutting edge technology, the advancement of humanity through any means necessary. There were rumors surrounding Lakkos of the most scandalous and disgusting kind, where even the mention chilled one's spine. And that wasn't the only grim business done there; biological weapons were made and shipped to the highest bidders across the world.

The poison inside Tefra was made in one of these factories; a building of red bricks with shiny windows and clean walls, smokestacks rising from the distant roof. Yet today there was something off about the factory. It was swarmed by a mob of policemen and reporters, commoners lingering by wooden barricades. The flash of cameras accompanied the rapid click click click of snapping shutters, and reporters screamed questions at well dressed detectives.

The ship floated over the commotion and like vines hanging from the deck, ropes were thrown over so the group could rappel. The captain tossed them harnesses that could be attached to the ropes, letting them safely descend to the packed street.

When the group reached the ground, a sharply dressed detective pushed through the mob of commoners and reporters. His face twisted into a scowl every time he said, "No comment," when a reporter asked a question, and eventually he snapped screaming, "Wanna know what I think? I think you're all a bunch of dumb fucking bums without anything better to do, now shut the fuck up and keep snappin pictures yeah?"

He faced the group and tightened his black tie. "Real uhh... dramatic entrance guys." He glanced at the ship hovering above them. "But I'm not gonna waste your time, I know why you're here.

"So I can tell you one thing for sure."

His brow furrowed as he looked back at the factory. "You ain't gonna like this."

"Now follow me." His familiar, a small black raven, perched on his shoulder as he led them through the crowd, pushing away overzealous reporters with his forearm. "Back off!" He pointed at one who'd gotten too close. "Your like gnats! Roaches! Fuckin pricks!"

He reached the barricade with the group following behind him, pushing over one of the wooden barriers. He stepped over and marched to the door with steam basically leaking from his ears. "Hearts gonna explode at this rate." He sighed and tossed them a tin of mint smelling cream. "Unless you want to see what you ate this morning, put some a' that under your nose before we go in."

rozukitsune Lost Echo ZackStop Huntertabbysandshark3

 

[Monbon]

​

‘That’s rough.’ Euclaire thought, unable to sympathize with the musician’s loss. What could one really say at such a time that weren’t just empty words? Grief wasn’t an emotion she allowed herself to be overly acquainted with. In her eyes, the man didn’t seem to need anyones condolences or sympathy either. It was just unfortunate to lose so many friends in one go. It was a wonder he agreed to come along for such a mission at all. “Come on, it’s not that bad.” Referring to the music, the redhead made a subtle attempt to lighten the mood a little. “It’s not like he’s gonna rupture your eardrums with his music alone, right?”

‘He might just drive the drunk mad though.’ Euclaire thought to herself, watching the interactions between the two. But that’d be the man’s own fault. Who told him to be hung over at such an hour? Finding some humor in it, she turned her attention back to their babysitter who seemed to have no actual plan at all. Just what kind of group was this?

After hearing the briefing from the knight, Euclaire got the jist of it at least. Out of all of them the woman seemed most dependable at least. “So it’s just a hunt. Sounds simple enough.” Though she said it, her gut was telling her it wouldn’t be so simple or that their target would make it easy for them. She’d never hunted anyone or anything before. If anything she was usually on the other end of the cat and mouse game.

Twirling a strand of her hair, Euclaire decided to just not think about it and peered down to the canopy below. The weathered sight of the ruins was strangely enchanting but nothing topped the sight of the pyramid standing there in all its glory. Recalling the conversation between the centurion and the scientist, Euclaire wondered how much anything she found would sell for. Had to be a pretty penny if the centurion brought it up as an option worth considering.


Jet EldridSmith Arcanist Lost Echo ZackStop​

 

[Lost Echo]

Wow. This place reminded her of home. Just on a broader scale. She wouldn’t have been surprised if Peirama was where the poison was first created. There was a reason the Doc enjoyed going there after all. Looking over the expanse of factories, as they flew in, Anya felt the high of exploring the engine settle down into determination. If this place was like home, then it likely had disappearances too. She could only hope to find some clue.

As they lowered, only one factory stood out. Well, the mob in front of it did. It’s brick facade was meaningless to her. As she suspected was intentional. She assumed most poison creating companies didn’t advertise. The mob though. Most of them were people, but she as she merged with Kallos to enhance her sight, she could tell some of them looked like reporters. Or people with cameras at any rate. The tiny lights sparking at the front of the crowd. Reporters rarely came to Peirama; no one cared about its stories. She’d seen plenty in Nye though, so had quite a low opinion.

Then the captain started dropping ropes over the railing. What was he doing? Were they being tied off? Why just one side though? She caught the harness as it hit her chest, looking down at the mass of straps in confusion. Looking at the others, she watched Johan begin to put them on. Then it dawned on her, “We’re jumping?!” She looked back down in to the crowd. Oh yeah, she was flying. The idea of having little control falling sounded nightmarish. She’d need to slow down anyway, her legs emitted a shockwave at high impacts. What would that do to the mass of people down there?

She walked back over to the captain, thrusting the harness at him, “Thanks for the trip. Your engines are beautiful.” She turned, merging with Kallos as she did, then stepped up onto the railing for a moment, before diving off. It was time to check the harness she and Mischa had built for her legs. Air sped past her as the ground grew closer, but she knew what she was doing. She had control now. About twenty feet up, she spread her wings, catching herself, then slowly drifted down landing just as the first of the others did.

She watched the suited man scream at the reporters for a moment, but studied the crowd instead. Her heart sank and her eagle eyes surveyed the brick building more closely. They wanted to know what happened to their friends and families. Why couldn’t they see them? Her mind filled with answers. Anya had seen explosions, accidents that seared off limbs and ones that grew extra limp things. Sure, it was possible Nye had held everyone for questioning about the poison. They certainly had the power to do so. But that wouldn’t account for the stress beneath the anger of that suit. Unless someone escaped. Nye never liked any hint against their power.

And here she was, roped in with them. Literally. She thought as the last of her crew landed. She ran a hand through her hair, spiking it momentarily, before sighing as the suit turned to them. Well, she couldn’t disagree. Why couldn’t they have landed? Did Johan know this mob was there? She studied him out of the corner of her eye, pretending to watch the suit fight off the crowd. He hadn’t seemed surprised by the ropes. So much for everyone having all the information.

She kept her wings out for the extra space they provided. She’d remove them once they went in. Instead of immediately entering, the suit stopped and tossed something at them, warning of the scene ahead of them. Yeah, whatever it was, it wasn’t just questions. She pulled in her wings, shifting so that she could be seen by some of the people.

She took the tin, smelling the cream that had been left on the outside by slick hands. She opened it. Her familiar could smell, and when she allowed the beak to grow, naturally she could smell the pheronomes she assumed Secretary Cranes cared about, but it wasn’t enhanced like those of mammals. She glanced at Ren’s cheetah. Maybe he’d put some on her too?

Smearing it under her nose liberally--she might have experience with gross things, but that’d just taught her this was a blessing--she passed it on. “You gonna give us more to go on than that?”

 

[Fred Colon]

Bracken was blind-sided by the newcomer. Frosted Frogs? It happened in the winter, he supposed. Frogs could freeze and then reawaken. He wasn't sure if it was quite that cold, however. Frogs only began to freeze when the water did. But he did not mention it. He was sure it was just... what had Isaac called it? A turn of phrase.

Leo stuck out his hand, and while Bracken knew he was supposed to shake it, he hesitated. He had mentally prepared himself to interact with a specific number of individuals. Now he had to deal with one more. He hadn't yet recalibrated his mind. When eventually he did, perhaps ten seconds later, he would in fact shake it. He noted the roughness of the young mans hands, indicating his hands were well used, and grunted approvingly. He didn't imagine they would send weaklings with him, but it was nice to know that those in his charge were no strangers to work.

Bracken's hand, Leon might notice, wasn't rough. It was a long fingered piece of jerky left out too long in the sun, skin that was mostly just callous. His nails were yellowed, jagged, and slightly sharp, as Bracken cut them with one of his knives, and only irregularly. His grip was extremely strong, his fingers like vice grips, from decades of bow use. His bow being the only thing that had kept him alive. This close, Leon would likely be able to smell Bracken. Old leather and sweat. Bracken was careful about his hygiene, as much as one who lives out in the wilderness could be. That is, he took a bath sometimes. The worst of the smell would come from his clothes rather than his body odor, as he hadn't quite mastered take care of his clothes beyond what he needed to do to keep them from falling apart to quickly.

He memorized the others names. Rat. Like the animal. Mischa. The other one did not give her name. He was fine with that. If she did not want to give it, she did not have to. He did not need her name to do his job. Mischa, however, began to speak to him slowly, like Dalton had.

"Understand..." He said, and tapped his ear until he remembered. "Hear... Everything. Speaking.... No practice. Long time alone."

He took a few steps backwards. He would retreat to his position on the mast if no one spoke to him.

Jet Goliath ZackStop Emphoa

 

[ManofManyRoles]

Yua Smith
ユア・スミス
Yua slowly shook her head at the question of if she'd ever interacted with a Darius, organic thumb of flesh and bone nervously worrying and rubbing at the back of a hand of metal. Her breast pocket shifted, the Gila Monster that called it home scurrying its way out to climb up onto her shoulder and get comfortable in the nape of her neck, as if doing what it could to soothe obvious nerves. "I've seen a few Centurions, sir. I've even met a very small handful. Never one named Darius." At the compliment to her wisdom Yua practically beamed with pride, the validation the kind of fuel that one couldn't beat! "Thank you, sir! I do my best to be studious in life, and I've been called a prodigy and savant when it comes to my medical studies. It's rewarding to hear it's noticed!" Yua's excitement slowly faded away as Isaac gave his assessment on lies, a small frown on her lips. "All that glistens is not gold, and many other phrases are befitting, unfortunately. Perhaps I'm young and naive but...I do dream for a day where things like what happened to your people are but bitter memories...no more, and no less." Yua held her arm out, the Gila Monster skittering down her arm to rest on it upside down and cling to it, only to scurry over to the other arm that she lifted just as easily. The exercise was amusing, and it kept her focus on her arm and ensured it stayed in top form when she had nothing to use it for.

Standing upright she hurried after Isaac, as if being outside of his presence might see her sucked out of this township and into the desolate wastes of the West. Yua's eyes went wide, no different than a child who had been presented with a beautiful landscape and told to go run and play in it...the home was beautiful, better than any of the gilded halls she'd seen. Marble was beautiful, and gold sparkled...but this was a home. It wasn't some thing of concrete, metal, and opulence...it was made with care, built with a beauty that money could never hope to front. "Thank you sir! I hope we don't impose. If needed, Felix and I are capable of staying on the craft if you find you need space for something else. Oh...Felix!"

Yua raised her arm in greeting, waving down the older gentleman as he made his way back towards the both of them on that simple path...of course, that meant the Gila Monster that had been on her arm was now hanging on for its blessed existence not to go flying. Felix's hands stayed formally behind his back, the massive King Cobra that stayed close to him slithering alongside him. "Ah, Miss Smith. My apologies, that took longer than I should have liked. I've moved your vessel to the edge of the township. I didn't wish to clutter their airspace, and as this is considered 'cursed ground' I have little concern for its safety. If you desire such, I will move it promptly." "No no, the edge is perfect. Thank you, Felix! Mister Isaac is willing to let us stay with him in his home, so we can keep the craft there for anything we might need that's not in our cases." "Ah, most excellent. You have my gratitude, sir. If Miss Smith permits it, I would be happy to assist you in tending to the housekeeping in compensation for lodging. I'll get the luggage, Miss Smith." With thanks given and his offer extended, the older gentlemen made his way back towards the fountain in view to grab the luggage they'd dragged with them and started back towards the duo.

Jet​

 

[Goliath]

Leon noticed the hesitation to take his hand, but Bracken did it despite his apprehension. Sure, some people might be disgusted by the male. But honestly, he reminded him a bit of home. Which was nice in such an unfamiliar setting.

Someone who was accustomed to being outside where appearance did not matter. Leather skin with sharp nails and a grip that was a little tight for a friendly handshake, but Leo didn’t complain. His smell didn’t bother Leon much either, but he could benefit from some of his homemade soap no doubt. It got the cow dung off after a day of spreading manure, so he was confident it worked well.

He stayed quiet as he and Misha exchanged words, his hand now back within the blanket cocoon. “Ain’t nothing wrong with taken' a little longer to find the right words,” Leon reassured, watching him step back.

The ginger tilted his head slightly, chuckling as the others had mixed reactions to his saying. But he meant it, pulling the blanket closer around him. Leon was cold, always cold, and Evali..he blinked slowly, stopping his brain from continuing that thought and instead focusing on those around him.

“Hah. Do I? I can’t say I’ve been on many of these flying .. things! But they are pretty cool!” He spoke, glancing around again before his eyes settled back on Mischa. “And a translator? Why!? Are my sayings that bad?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. But he was not the least bit offended, laughing as he shook his head, turning to Rat.

“See! He likes ‘em! I got enough phrases. I’m happy to teach you the ways.” He hummed.

“And then she won’t need a translator. Bet we can get her to say one too. She won’t even realize it.” Leon smiled at Rat as he gestured his head to Mischa with a playful wink.

He glanced back at Mischa again, and his eyes lit up at the offer. He loved drinking. And despite his boyish face, all they could see of him currently, he held his liquor well. In the small country town he came, they only had the dark stuff, lots of whiskey and beer. So he got used to it pretty quickly.

He’d also never played many drinking games in the past. It was more sitting around the bar while he heard old-men and a handful of crazy women telling stories.

BUT in Kastro, he and the centurions also played a game! So maybe that was what people his age enjoyed if they weren’t in the field? “I’m down as long as it’s not .. uh .. yes, Kings Cup! That was way too many rules,” he laughed with a genuine smile.

Leon nodded as the other male said he respected his farming, puffing his chest out slightly. He wondered if this was what having friends might feel like. Possibly getting ahead of himself. But it was a nice thought. “Well, Rat. That’s a unique name. Where I’m from that’d be an insult. Rats always be tearing into the bags of dried corn and such.” He spoke before his mouth formed an O.

“Gots a little experience blacksmithing. But I can’t say I have the damnedest idea what magitech is. That’s over my head, so show me sometime!”

He turned to Ilana, unsure what to say to her since she said nothing to him, and instead turned to Bracken. “Does it not bother you to be so high up in the air? I think I'd pass out,” he chuckled, looking up at the mast. A quick comment in case the male wanted to go again.

“Okay, Mischa! Let’s play this drinking game of yours! Want me to grab the booze from the kitchen?” He exclaimed excitedly.

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

 

[ZackStop]

Eventually, Ren made his way back out of the engine room to reunite with his familiar. Grabbing the ends of his loose, worn out shirt, he waved it in and out to let in some cool air. "Whew, sure was steamy in there." Ren said allowed, not really talking to anyone in particular besides Phalanx and maybe his fellow gear addict Anya, who knew just as well as he did the intense heat of Blue Runner's engine. He let go of his shirt and wiped off a bit of forehead sweat before returning to the others, followed by his familiar who had a nice stretch after their nap.

By that point the ship had began coming to a stop, and Ren finally noticed they weren't entire surrounded by sky anymore, but instead hovering over an industrial city. Several streams of black smoke billowed up around them from the factories below. It was similar to Gem city, with the key difference being a lot more 'dirty' than his home. This was the fate of the outland islands, maintained by the outcasts, those who did not fit into the society of Nye and it's grandeur. Ren didn't have much capacity for those thoughts, but it was no less true. However, seeing a place such as this up close left a bitter feeling in his mind.

Then Ren got tossed a spool of rope, managing to catch it even when being off guard, not without clumsily fiddling with it first. It was just like the time with Tefra, flashing back to when he held the compression cube, convinced it would explode. He shook that moment out of his head, managing to view it as an embarrassing memory. He looked over as Anya shouted in disbelief, which keyed him in on what was going on. They were going to repel from the ship and into the streets of Lakkos.

Ren laughed to himself in amusement. "Sounds kinda fun." He said with a little as he looked down at the rope to unravel it. He felt a little nervous, it was dangerous but was confident he could handle it. He gathered up his bag, not wanting to leave it behind, but stuck his hand inside before pulling one of his blue gauntlets over his hand. "Ready Phalanx?" His cheetah just looked at him blankly, not as enthused to jump several feet from the air. Phalanx shrunk into the form of a stubby kitten before climbing into his shirt.

Ren watched as the ever impressive Anya made a much more badass descent than what was expected. "So cool!" He turned his previous nerves into excitement as he followed close behind his comrade, and using his metal clad hand began to fly down the rope with a loud zipping sound. He let out a "Woohoo!" as the metal slid against the rope to slow his fall slightly. Seeing his adventurous spirit still in tact after everything that has happened, it really was good to be young.

He landed close by to the others, looking around to see all the flashing photos being taken, as a large commotion was underway. Ren was stunned and completely confused. He wasn't sure what he was expecting but it certainly was not this. Though, he immediately took note of the disgruntled detective, seeing him attempt to push past all the nut job people. "Hey, cut that out!" He said as he felt Phalanx swatting at the key around his neck. Ren grabbed him and pulled him back out where he could assume his true form. He put his gauntlet up as he listened to the detective vaguely speak about whatever happened before escorting them all in.

The camera flashes were disorienting, so a wave of relief came over him when they were finally away from it. He let out a big sign, before being being handed the harsh smelling container. Ren was not too keen on its smell, and neither was Phalanx, who had turned his head away as it approached them. "Down the hatch..." The boy mumbled to himself before following suit with the smearing, passing it onto the next victim once he was finished. He then looked over to Johan. "So, what exactly is going on here?"

Jet rozukitsune Lost Echo Huntertabbysandshark3

 

[Jet]

​

"It'll happen in time, people have short memories in my experience." Isaac walked through the garden to the front door of his home, made of oak wood bound together by iron straps. It was rough around the edges but then again, he'd never been an expert craftsman. "You're not imposing in the least young lady!"

"I take great pleasure in flaunting my house to guests, but they're far too infrequent these days."

He smiled and pushed the door open with the whine of old hinges, looking back as he said, "And you know, it's good you didn't run into Darius, nothing good comes of meeting that man."

He was about to elaborate when Felix approached from town center, his poetic flourish sharp as ever. He was a strange man but Isaac couldn't condemn anyone, no matter how strange they were, for being an eccentric oddball. He'd been one for decades since the fall of the mighty city. "Polite as ever I see! But there's no need to help with the housekeeping young man!"

"Though..." Isaac cleared his throat. "You could chop a few cords of firewood?"

His brow rose and he smirked at his own comment, eyes twinkling with a little hint of greed. He'd spent many years tending fields and his knees ached with the swing of his axe, and he wouldn't use magic to cleave logs. Not when he swore never to use it long ago. "In any case, you'll meet my house mate when he returns. He's quite a sharp tongue you see! Always the kidder haha!"

"No seriously." His face suddenly deadpanned. "Please ignore him at all costs."

But then the sound of rapid footsteps filled the narrow street, and a young man stopped beside the house. He bent forward panting as sweat dripped down his flushed face. "Isaac!"

"What is it this time? Loose chickens?"

"No it's the Atsali! The Atsali sent a hunting party! They want to speak with you — by the north fields!"

"What?" Isaac's face twisted into a scowl. "What are they doing here? Have they lost their minds?" He dropped his pack and stood his back straight, slamming the door behind him as he marched across the garden.

"This isn't normal." He looked at the two (likely) confused foreigners. "They're superstitions as could be, only a deeply important matter would draw them here."

He walked down the street with the young man in toe, glancing back at the pair of visitors. "If you come with us, never look away from their eyes. In their culture it's a sign of contempt."

ManofManyRoles

 

[rozukitsune]

Narzas eyed the buildings congesting the streets as they descended down to the ground level. Though she didn't know it, her and Anya were of the same mind thinking this place reminded them of home. True her village wasn't as big as this place, nor as smoky - it was not an industrial complex after all. Still, she could feel her shoulders tense as she looked from one darkened alleyway to the next as they approached the building with the protesters. This was exactly the sort of place that an assassin would love. Plenty of places to hide... from the shadow-filled corners to the buildings that any old sniper could easily perch upon. The whole thing put her on edge.

It didn't help either when the man in charge told Johan that he wasn't going to like what they were about to find out in this building they'd come to investigate.

Silently, she began making guesses as she followed along:

1) The poison stores were mysteriously stolen!
2) The requisition for the list of individuals who had purchased said poison had 'accidentally' wound up on fire!
3) ... something entirely unexpected, yet along the same lines as 1 and 2 as to be frustratingly aggravating and similarly not really a surprise at all once one thought about it long enough.

She just hovered near the back of their little group and kept a watchful eye on the protestors all attempting to shove their way into the building they were being freely allowed into, barely resisting the temptation to gum them all with Sara's webs so that they'd have an even harder time following at least until someone had gotten them all unstuck.

Jet Lost Echo ZackStop Huntertabbysandshark3

 

[ManofManyRoles]

Charlie Redding
Charlie was content to stay up against the wall, piercing gaze leveled across the room as if everyone was guilty of some unspoken crime against humanity, or something similarly awful to earn her ire. As they drew closer, the scent of smoke, ash, and fire filled her nose...a scent she knew well and had her own unique thrill. Like a shark with that scented blood in the water, she was drawn from it, leaving the safety of the wall that kissed her back and out onto the deck. A hand reached out to grab at a line of rope as she leaned over the edge, eyes scanning the plumes of smoke and death. "Fuck me runnin', didn't know we were visiting my neighbors. Looks just like Macragge," she grumbled. They were going to be in a right mess, it'd seem. On one hand, it probably meant she'd feel less guilty breaking someone's jaw since they'd probably earn it. But on the other hand...what had kicked the hornet's nest so badly to rile up people by the thousands? Not the dozens, not the hundreds...the thousands, a seething mass of bodies down below moving with a singular purpose. Something foul was in the air, and it wasn't just the choking smoke.

Leaning back up away from the railing and releasing the rope from her grip, the bird at her shoulder hopped a bit to the left, and again further to the right as if dancing to the sounds of chaos. At the 'hail centurion!' Charlie snapped around, staring at Kwame. Every conceivable curse passed her mind at the sight of him, he looked like a damn knight in shining armor like from the story books. They didn't need to paint themselves pink for extra attention after all, this giant sonuvabitch would do it for them. He seemed mighty interested in Kilderkin though, and though Charlie took careful note of that she was discreet in how she eyed the scene before the same mistrusting gaze now leveled on guards. Instead of counting allies, she was counting just how many knives she had to expect in her back, or if she was lucky in her front.

As Kilderkin laid on her pep and cheer heavier than an anvil, Charlie couldn't help but cough into her fist like she was gagging on something. The smoke perhaps? Alas, no, terrible allergies acting up. This entire situation was heavy with a dosage of bullshit, and even horseshit, and she was allergic to both to a deathly degree. Noticing Renn starting to retract into the metaphorical shell Charlie gave a grumble, making her way over to the girls side and nudging her in the ribs with her elbow. "Oi. Remember our deal, aye? I'll stay good to my end if you do the same. If yer tryin' to hide inside of your skin, yer doin' a piss poor job at it. Want a jacket instead? Bit hot for it now." It was a simple enough question, something that was so nonsensical in a high-stress situation that it was almost perfectly tailored to distract and disarm. Like when one went to the doctor and was asked about their favorite sports team before a giant needle was rammed into their thigh... distraction and redirecting was always a good tool. And the songbird was going to be useless if she clammed up into a shell again. As Charlie fell in line, the Pithoui on her shoulder gave a few chirps, and several sharp pecks to her temple before flying upwards to stretch its wings. Every so often it would swoop down before soaring back upright again, the process getting closer and closer to nailing its other half in the head as if intent on aggravating her.

Jet Emphoa EldridSmith Fred Colon rozukitsune​

 

[Emphoa]

Adamaris briefly turned their attention away from Ace and Elriel and more onto their company that surrounded them. They still didn't know what to make of the lot, but they knew things would be well if they had Elriel at their side, and they could breath easier at the thought alone as they pursed their lips together. They were almost lost to their thoughts before they tuned back into the conversations happening around them, especially when they were directly spoken to and they offered up a kind smile towards Ace with a gentle dip of their head. "Ada or Adamaris works- Ada is a nickname, really." They admitted as they offered up another kind smile and they followed along towards the kitchen. "But I certainly can- gotta make sure to carry my own weight around here, no?"

They let out a little chuckle at that before they turned to the cabinets to fish out the specific things Ace was asking for while they were still tuned in to the words and commotion happening around them. Really, a bit of the chatter and the chaos was... welcoming, if anything else. It had been a long time since they could sit and enjoy some time with other individuals when it was rarely something they could have had when they had lost their own family. They pursed their lips at the thought, and glanced over briefly when they heard Zak and they couldn't help but puff out.

"Zebra, they have multiple stripes- I wouldn't say I'm much of one, if you wanted to think of something more fitting you could have gone with a skunk- or maybe more of like a chipmunk, too, could have been more fitting." They puffed out, glancing to Nueto and smiling fondly at their familiar. "I'm only having fun, don't get too tied up about it." They reminded the chameleon and he started to climb onto their head while they listened to the others around them, and tried to tune out the rambling about the plants from Mav while they looked back at Ace.

"What are you thinking about making?" They asked, their eyes lightly twinkling as they glanced back towards Elriel, unable to help themselves but continue making sure that their old friend was alright. After all... They had only just reunited, they didn't want to lose him a second time. Soon enough, they offered up another smile. "I would always need you, but I will instead have fun with cooking while you socialize."

Goliath Jet ManofManyRoles EldridSmith

 

[Anne Boolean]

Despite Faraji's reiteration of the number of dead Centurions, Nihal kept a calm look on his face. Sure seven had died. Out of how many? He was too inebriated to remember, but he imagined the total amount made the casualties only seem like a small fraction.

"So they don't have bodies?" Nyaall questioned when Adrian brought up Hydras. "What's keeping them together then? Just that they're tangled up? But then where do the heads regenerate from?" He found himself more and more curious about their anatomy the more he pondered it.

"As for the bats, do they just drink people's blood? Or do they actually eat their flesh too? Vampire is kind of a misleading name if it's the second..." He was also curious about the name Adrian mentioned. Deadlift? What a strange name for a man, he thought as he stumbled forth.

"Freedoooooommm!" Nyaall belted out at Adrian's question. It certainly wasn't as polished as his singing during a well-rehearsed performance on stage, but it certainly had as much, if not more, heart. "As for why I'm specifically here..." He shrugged. "They said I was needed here and I guess I agreed at some point. It's been... a crazy week." He let out a drunken giggle.

When he heard Bean's words, he rolled his eyes. Cheating, huh? With those cameras? This one would need to be wealthy and well-connected. He couldn't help but wonder if his management would have set up any deals like that for him though if he got further in the ranks. His eyes fell on the fox girl. Well, thanks to her, he wouldn't need to find out.

"Wait, what kind?" the cat boy asked when Goliath mentioned drugs, suddenly interested. He had tried some stuff from the workers on the Kastros, and some of it was pretty good. Maybe they could find something like that during this excursion. It made this whole trip seem much more interesting. And if it couldn't be taken back as a souvenir, well, they would just need to finish it all before leaving, now wouldn't they?

Upon hearing Vixie's heated response to Goliath, a grin spread across Nihal's face. He didn't even truly understand the conflict or context, but the back and forth was entertaining. And he certainly liked seeing his friend standing up for herself. He gave an "oooooh" when she swore at the man, even offering her a high five once she was done.

Jet (Adrian, Bean) Goliath (Goliath) Lost Echo (Vixie) Arcanist (Faraji)