Fantasy The Great Games of Nye

[Lost Echo]

Anya flinched at the drawl coming from the psycho chick, stepping back against Kallos. It made no sense how she was here. They were in the past, right? That’s what the old man had claimed? “So you’re friends with Damian?” If they were really in the past, he must have sent her too. If not…her eyes flicked to the bedraggled man, why the elaborate set up?

She ignored Ava’s chipper words, instead focusing on Narzas, “I’m going. You don’t have to come if you don’t want to, but I have to try.”

The smelly man stepped forward, interrupting Johan. Cargo. Anya supposed it could be worse. “You’re a shitty shipper if your cargo gets damaged enough to die.” She muttered, letting herself be heard. As long as Hannah got home, that was what mattered. The girl was smart, if she got free she could make it home. Anya didn’t expect to.

She looked around the group as they walked. It was easy to trade her life for Hannah’s. She’d have done it with any of her flock. But to trade all these lives? Anya knew she was a monster, but she was willing. She’d do her best to protect Ren. But the adults would have to handle themselves.

The airship looked like it wouldn’t hold them. It fell from the sky, and Anya merged just in case she needed to make an escape. She glanced at Ren. She might be able to hold onto him. Johan probably could fly as a bat, he’d get Narzas, but Ava? Was she durable enough to survive such a fall?

Thankfully it was unnecessary. They landed before a submarine, perfectly smooth. She’d heard of those who could control metal, but had never seen it before. She nodded her agreement with Ren’s assessment, wondering if any of it needed to be welded or could someone create it by completely molding the metal?

Anya kept her wings to balance herself across the plank, then absorbed them, keeping Kallos deep inside, to climb into the interior. It reeked, especially of enough gasoline to make her fear creating a spark. She had to bend in half to walk to a seat near the window. Automatically detaching her legs, she breathed a sigh of relief as she left them standing beside her. She scowled as the old man misgendered Ava--something adults always did. It was obvious Ava was a woman: he was just being an ass.

She could believe it was a child who made this--simply because of its smaller size. Most of their hideouts at home required Anya to take off her legs to move around in, children didn’t need as much space, and she could manage. “Where is he now?” This close, following an actual lead, Anya was hopeful. And Hannah would love to meet this kid.

With an ease of practice, Anya used her arms to propel herself from one empty seat to another until she landed on the floor in the front. She peered into the cockpit, interested in the pipes and levers that made up its surface. She assumed the pedals on the floor were controlling the ship, one to dive and one to rise. “Can you access the engine from inside the ship?”

Huntertabbysandshark3 Jet ZackStop rozukitsune

 

[Jet]

​

Bean was stronger than his size would suggest. He grabbed the man and pulled him close enough to smell his foul breath — hints of alcohol and pipe weed spurring on his rage. He punched the man over and over and over again, a piston splitting skin with hammer-like blows, and with every punch the man wilted further and further to his knees, collapsing as blood poured from his mouth.

"You fucked us!" Bean screamed as another voice rang out.

"Don't kill him!"

The words echoed through the tunnel as he cocked his arm for another punch, but then he felt something strange on his arm — something nobody ever dared to do — someone had touched him. His arm recoiled and his head snapped in her direction. His eyes sharpened like a hawk's but with every word she spoke, they softened until his rage slowly faded. He looked down at the defeated man kneeling before him, seeing Marigold for what he actually was, a useless man who never meant them any harm, and incompetence wasn't worth killing for.

"He's—

Bean could still feel the spot where she touched him. It was strangely cold and his skin crawled under his sleeve, people weren't supposed to touch him. Not ever.

"He's lucky you're here." He averted his gaze and stepped away from the wounded man, clenching at his sleeve with an empty expression on his face. He was silent as the man mumbled through bleeding lips.

"I thought," Marigold began. "Why would I lie to you? Why would I come here without knowing the way through? It would be suicide and I promise you, beyond a fleeting shadow of a doubt, I quite like living!"

"The route was right — I know it was right! I've memorized a hundred books and two dozen plays, remembering this was nothing in comparison. I don't know why—"

His voice trailed into a frustrated whine. "Why was I wrong?"

​

Adrian liked sleeping on the floor. He could focus on resting instead of looking for the perfectly comfortable position, because every position was equally shit. The steel bored in his shoulders where the floor touched his bones, but his pouch made a perfectly sized pillow, sneaking into the nook between his head and upper back. That was hardly a coincidence though. He was an experienced vagrant who knew what pouches gave the best neck support, and what terrain made the most desirable mattress. He always liked grassy plains with a hint of gravel in the dirt, and cave floors were good for the spine. He never liked beaches though — one wrong move and sand was up his ass.

In comparison the steel floor was an average place to sleep, and surely not the worst he'd experienced. That honor went to the lowlands during wet season, where a crawling eel had wormed up his pantleg. This was far better as eels wouldn't molest him in these tunnels, and despite the chaotic background he was already drifting off. He could almost see his dreams and feel the embrace of a restful sleep, until Goliath roused him with a snarky line.

"Never run when you can walk," he answered in kind. "Never walk when you can sit down, and never sit when you can lay on the floor."

"And never do anything without a drink." He reached in his pouch without needing to look. The location of his booze was well memorized. He sipped from the bottle with his eyes closed like a baby. "Weren't you supposed to protect the poet?"

His eyes cracked open and found Faraji across the hall. "You make a shit bodyguard — wouldn't wish you on my worst enemy. They'd be dead before I can reach them."

"But he's got a new champion anyway." He glanced at the young resting girl. "The one innocent person roped into this fools errand, and here I was thinking this was the good mission."

"We've got three days until thirst takes us, keep that in mind when you're beating on him." His words were meant for Bean this time. "We can't afford to drag around half dead weight, save the abuse for after this is over."

Bean looked up but was still distant from the group, quietly watching without a word. His only response was a muted grunt.

Lost Echo Goliath Arcanist Anne Boolean

 

[EldridSmith]

Ivan had nodded to Adamaris request to take care of Elriel in his rush, but now that he was on deck he was going to lend a hand once more as their lives all depended on this. Ivan returned to his work as the pair were soon together once more as Elriel forced himself back on deck, it was clear to Ivan at this point that they were... in an unnatural relationship. However they weren't of his faith so he had no rights to judge them, as even the good book said so. This was something he tried explaining before but the nobles were resistant to listening and understanding. Unfortunately many twisted the faith for their own advantage and perverted the teachings found within. It seemed the two were resistant because of that fact, still Ivan was actively trying to change things for the better, here, and within the church, but the second was up to his uncle at this point and he himself had a task to complete to even return to the latter.

Mavior and Zak were destroying much of the ice that so threatened the ship when Zak was struck and began with a tirade of foul language, though Ivan himself could understand, but then Ivan heard him mention sea monsters. "Come now, mentioning the thing often brings it about especially in sailors tales! Do you seek to bring a the devil Leviathan upon us?" Ivan jested in passing. The man then inquired of the captain and their chances with the next wave. Ivan was beginning to wish they had the foresight to make their own ship of metal and dirt, they could have used that to cover the ship in a protective dome, alas it was too late as hindsight always was. Ivan took the chance to hang on to the railing as the ship hurled into the next wave. Thankfully with the coming water it was the last of the ice that was capable of threatening the ship for now.

It was then and there that Mavior shouted of a beast below them. "Scourge of the sinner!!!" Ivan exclaimed. Such a large figure... would the weapons of man prevail? No, the intervention of the divine. Ivan immediatly took a knee and began praying silently. He prayed for their safety, for there were souls on board still in need of God's forgiveness, he prayed for strength, to defeat the challenge in front of him to bring glory to God, he prayed for wisdom, so that those on board could handle the situation, he prayed for everything and everything for without God he was nothing. He rose, grabbed his lance which he had strapped to the railing at the start of their voyage. "Fides nostra, gladius noster! Christus vincit, Christus regnat! In nomine Domini! In hoc signo vinces!" He chanted to himself like a Maori Haka, fervor filling him as he unmerged with his familiar for a second before melding once more, swelling in size and strength for he would need all he could muster and more.

Goliath Emphoa Jet ManofManyRoles

 

[EldridSmith]

Zulan was laser focused on the revolutionaries in front of him, he didn't notice Renee having a moral quandary about the fate of Nye. He didn't notice Charlie zoning out. He didn't see Gailene hiding behind the group and have her own crisis of conscious or thoughts of the prisoners and guards, but he did hear her words. "Gailene, how much do you truly know of Nye? If what she says is true and the corruption runs too deep, there is no changing from within, or price in blood would be steep and the pain drawn out compared to ripping off the bandage and treating the wound." He pointed out, they were on the edge of the knife with this task, stray too far to one side or the other and the price in blood would be historic. Charlie's own words on the subject echoed his own.

Irina smiled to what her sister said and reminisced of the past with her sister, but spoke of how things couldn't go back and how Gailene was too optimistic. Then the topic went to the sins of Vincent. Zulan was inclined to believe the most of it, he had seen how power corrupted, and those he saw weren't even that close to the top. She then talked of how the could potentially pit the council and nobles against one another. Zulan's eyes seemingly glowed brightly like embers being hit with fresh air, the idea was possible. Nobles often vied for powers with words and subtle moves, but were the power vacuum set up, it would just take a spark to light the whole circus ablaze. However Zulan was quick to see the arrogance in her words causing him to frown slightly. She talked about how they would have to be patient and cautious, which was a given at this point regardless of the outcome, and how they wouldn't face a single repercussion. Zulan found that unlikely, wishful thinking was an understatement. She then said she was tired of selling them the message and they had to make their choices. Zulan was inclined to agree. He was in favor of the revolution, but VERY, VERY cautious of it at the same time, like holding a serpent to kill an enemy but could ever so quickly kill the holder.

Charlie was quick to comment on the offer to kill Vincent herself was very tempting, but she would think on it. Charlie then motioned the group to the empty and quiet area in the din, at which point Zulan followed. Once they arrived Zulan was first to speak up. "To say I'm wary of this proposition is an understatement... but at the same time, I'm inclined to accept it. I'd be worried to see what this group would do without restraint." He expressed honestly, keeping it short for Charlie.

Jet rozukitsune ManofManyRoles Lost Echo

 

[EldridSmith]

Baryn hadn't even thought of how the man spoke the same language till Eucliare brought it up, it seemed this place was filled with people not originally from here... or their descendants. Neither boded well. If the were in here long enough he could transition his focus from control of wind to more power to lift people up... but he would have to practice a very long time to lift more than just those that came with him out. His power wasn't enough to even lift himself fully at the moment.

As they moved further into the pit Baryn wrinkled his nose and blinked his eyes at the burning sensation, pools of... something causing the foul occurrence. Baryn quickly felt displeasure at the thought of having to become used to living in such conditions, but at the moment he didn't have a choice. Still he felt the man was just saying that to say it, he didn't feel it, the words though convincing lacked heart. AH. Spies must be very close. Joy. "Tell me of this yellow king, for I know nothing about him." He inquired, having no context for the man's words other than having just been enslaved. He wasn't reverent, but he was playing the part to find out about this man who posed as a god. Baryn understood the man's signals clearly in this regard as he followed to this place wihtout distractions. He nodded, glad to leave the area. Baryn marged with his familiar to use it's low light vision to see better, but he regretted it as the men looked like zombies. And some were there dead and rotting. Baryn was feeling nausious but thankfully didn't puke.

They were now in a secret bar, he was honestly impressed as he wouldn't have ever noticed it on his own was if he was working here, he was used to secret rooms in urban areas not the wild. The smell of swill had him feeling hungry as he hadn't eaten in a good while at this point, but the thought of food had him... nervous about the offerings here. The man then started by saying that they could speak, which a wave of relief washed over Baryn, then he remarked about how they were guarnteed to be loyal and from a mlitary boat... wait he did he know that. He thought they were trained soldiers too... shit. He then stated they could potentially get out... and get rich. He knew Euclaire would be on board for sure. "You had my curiosity, now you have my attention. I will forewarn you my expertise is inspirring rebellion and not combat expertise, I was a rebel in Zuanshi... speaking of the outside world. How much do you know about it? Like the lady stated you know our language and about our ships. I'm presuming you're not from here originally given your information." He stated, trying to play the part, and he wasn't lying at least. "Anyways the more you can tell us the more we can help." He stated, keen to learn what the hell was going on.
Jet Monbon

 

[Monbon]

There weren’t many places she’d say were worse than the slums that’d nurtured her but the mines really took the cake. The stench would take some getting used to. For the moment, she could only get through it by covering her nose with her hand. There were more corpses and basic hygiene was clearly hard to come by, much less medical treatment. How were they planning on helping the centurion?

It wasn’t her problem, she told herself as she followed along the group, arms subconsciously wrapping around herself as she tried to keep track of what tunnels they’d passed and where they turned in case they had to hightail it out of there.

Eventually they were led to a bar of sorts. It was about as tidied up as it could be considering the location and lack of resources. It was amazing they were able to make a place like that at all.

“You are not untrained fools."

Euclaire wasn’t sure she could agree with that assessment but wasn’t about to correct him. Baryn didn’t seem to be of the same mind as he openly told these people who probably felt they’d obtained even the smallest ray of hope with their arrival just how proficient he was when it came to combat.

They were sure to love that. She really hated expectations but what could she say when he mentioned getting rich. “I take it you have something in mind?” She wondered. The old man had to have been there for some time as he’d traversed the tunnels with ease.

“Also, do you know a little girl with black eyes?” She wondered out loud. Out of everything they’d faced so far, she seemed like the one most likely to thwart their plans. Even the Centurion was rendered useless against her. Though Euclaire felt they'd have at least stood a chance had she not been on her last legs or taken by surprise. “Brown hair, pitch black eyes, staring problem.” She listed off the few traits she remembered. “Ear piercing screech…?”

 

[Arcanist]

Brynwyr Protheroe

Mentions: Lost Echo ZackStop Jet

Brynwyr stood to attention, perhaps not as rigidly as what her training made her ought to, but she kept her eyes on Abaranne the whole time she spoke. Even if she did hear the odd complaint of the heat from Spivey, feeling the same with the sweat edging from her hairline, she still endeavoured to listen.

Apep, the World Eater, they called that giant serpent that seemingly drove their crew to madness, and another, who sent their companions deep into a mine to toil away for some imaginary treasure.

“A man who forces and subjects others to hard toil and penniless labour is no king,” Brynwyr muttered. Albion’s royals were by no means perfect, but at least in her time, no man was subjected to such activities if they did not deserve the consequences of it.

“Is it not obvious?” Rhys piqued up, looking at Spivey and to the others, “if the centurion is down there, alongside those who travelled with us, then naturally that is where we must go next!”

Obvious, yes, Brywnyr thought. Naturally that is where they would go next. Or she, without him, more than likely.

“I must agree with Rhys. We have another lead for our missing person’s case, but it comes with more caveats and danger than we originally perceived,” Brywnyr explained, wiping away sweat that trickled down her forehead. She looked to the woman, worn by years and wisdom. “Perhaps we can help each other. You have men and women down there that may still be alive, as do we. You say none return from the bottomless mine, but that is not to say it is impossible for someone to do so.”

They could not return to Nye empty-handed, nor could they return if there was a reasonable chance for them to save their companions.

 

[Arcanist]

Faraji Aguta

Mentions: Goliath Jet Anne Boolean Lost Echo

​

Crawling through this dank, dark cavernous space was Faraji’s idea of a terrible day out. Marigold’s tour guide attitude made him even more wary of his step, and he thought that he could feel the tiny feet of penta-pedes teetering over his skin. Each time it made him shiver and jerk, believing his end had come. At least the poet’s stories kept him distracted from their very real situation. He tried to imagine himself in Marigold’s fictionalised position, just to place him somewhere else other than here, just like he did with his son when he regaled his tales and stories. Even if there was an obvious strain of untruth to them, they made for a worthwhile distraction.

He listened to the others talk among themselves as they traversed through the path Marigold led them on, and the odd time, filtered in and out of conversations. Mostly questions or comments, and once, he spoke of his travels to Ahr'Wahida and the United Eastern Kingdoms, though, not in expansive detail to Marigold’s tales. He could not let reality take over too much from the sweeping fake tales of his, could he?

The fissure in the wall proved Faraji’s greatest challenge. The dark cavern they had been traversing with little light was difficult enough, but he had the same reaction as everyone else upon seeing the tight fissure. He did not consider himself claustrophobic, but the fissure may have driven him to believe as such from that point onward.

He could not complain though. There was no other way forward according to Marigold, and all the others seemed to make their way through as uncomfortable and squished as they seemed. When it came to Faraji’s turn to wiggle his way through, he tried to push his mind to another place. He imagined he was at one of Nye’s unscrupulous parties, bottles down, only aware of the warm flesh pressed against his, not the cold rock – or was it metal? - he was subjected to wiggle past.

Faraji had to let go of that scenario when he got through. It lingered in his mind even as they continued on the winding paths Marigold led them on. Just when would they end up where they needed to be?

His stomach dropped when their tour guide told them the one thing a tour guide should never tell their crew. Two immediately jumped Marigold, exhaustion giving way to anger and violence. Should he step in and stop it? He felt something travel up to his head, but it was not anger, nor violence. He rubbed his jaw, his eyes, pinched his arms. It was not real, surely? Did he drink the water he was warned not to touch, to imagine such horrible scenarios happening in front of him.

Faraji never stepped in. As usual, as proven time and time again, it was a child who took to the situation better than he did. Vixie was able to stop Bean from smacking the man into a bloody pulp, and they were instructed to get comfy, and try to get some rest.

“In this place…” Faraji muttered to himself, but he didn’t protest to the matter. They didn’t have much other choice, did they?

Shit. They were going to die down here.

Faraji found himself distanced from the group, on the other side of the hall. Perhaps they moved further away, or he had moved further away, one or the other. He was lucky to have brought a sleeping bag with him, but it was no queen-sized bed in his lavish apartment. Lapis had appeared, perhaps Faraji had subconsciously willed him into the plain for support, for he huddled into his neck, brushing his feathers against his neck.

Green did not wear well on Faraji, especially not when one was in possession of a tent, and another was willing to beg for a space in said tent. Once again, he muttered to himself, “You’ll have to do more than beg for a spot.” He'd experienced that enough times to know begging was simply an added bonus to the main event.

He heard Adrian’s voice call to him across the hall and he flinched, believing his mutterings had been caught, though, it was an insult to his position…that he forgot about.

Ah.

Still, Faraji’s nose wrinkled, and he rooted through his pack. “He’s still alive, isn’t he? Roughed up, but still alive. It’s not my fault he’s forgotten the route.” He happily put himself forward as guardian, but that wasn’t going to mean he was going to be a good one. He handed a packet of something to Lapis, its contents unknown but suspiciously food-like, and he flew over to Marigold, dropping the packet in front of him, squawking and ruffling his feathers.

 

[Emphoa]

Evaline was never one for 'disguises' or anything of the sort- but she also supposed that whatever she could manage would just have to do. She tried not to pay too much mind as to what he others were doing with their disguises. She pulled her hair back, further dirtied up herself with the soot that seemed to cover her as she did- even smothering into her white hair with a small puff leaving her lips. It would be best to try and not stand out as much as possible. She adjusted some of her clothing- at least what she could as she finally straightened up and looked at the other two.

Kilderkin could truly pull off an amazing disguise- and she couldn't help but snort with the slang that would come out of 'Joseph's' mouth. Would she need a different name? Was it necessary? The blacksmith took a moment, before she finally puffed out and gave a little smile as she looked between them. "Joseph and Reggie- noted." She finally hummed out, giving a quieter sigh as she mentally prepared herself for what they were going in to do-

She was just a blacksmith- a farmer, and yet here she was in the middle of all of this. She was sure her parents would have scolded her for being so reckless. But...

She pushed the thoughts right out of her mind as she kept in line with Kwame and Kilderkin, pulling up a hood over her head as she walked along, quiet, but observant as she eyed the city around them. Trying to be subtle when Kilderkin pointed out the woman on the spire. She had to agree that she was of interest and she pursed her lips together. "Think it's worth looking into?" She offered, her blue eyes settled onto Kilderkin as she said this.

Jet Fred Colon

 

[Emphoa]

It all seemed to happen so fast-

Without much of another word Misha had moved forward, his breath hitched in his throat and he felt how his heart beat within his chest. But with her in the air- he just needed to try and move closer without the man paying much attention to him but how would he be able to do something like that? He could feel his blood pumping and he thought about how much he would be losing if he fucked this up. He couldn't make that mistake, at whatever cost... He couldn't do that-

Because it could cost them Mischa.

He tried not to think about the situation with Leon and Yua- he knew that they would be alright, he hoped at least, if he didn't think too hard about it. About how much he didn't like splitting off from one another at all. His eyes snapped up, settled onto the man as he started to make more arrows and he pursed his lips together- cursing quietly as he raised up his grappling hook to try and grab him.

But it felt like seconds when- when-

Mischa was in his grasp, the spear at her neck and he felt his heart drop- skip a beat now as he stared, feeling helpless.

Fuck.

Fuck.

"Leon! The spear!" He yells out, his eyes never leaving the man as the hook shot off, his heart raced inside of his chest as he hoped that Leon would be able to get the spear away.

And gods he hoped this hook would grab on.

Jet Goliath ManofManyRoles

 

[Goliath]

Elriel felt the hand grip onto his arm, looking down at Adamaris. His own expression was gentle, despite his body screaming in pain from exhaustion, all because he was looking at them. But he wasn’t met with the same. The worry etched across their friend’s face told him what he needed to know, even before the words. But he took the scolding.

“I know,” he whispered simply. But resting wasn’t in the cards. Not with their current dire situation. He reached up, his thumb softly wiping the rain from his cheek since everyone else was preoccupied. “Do not worry. I promise I will not leave your side again.”

Sadly the tender moment couldn’t last long, nodding as Ada reminded him of all the different things that needed to happen. Beginning with the supplies he’d risked his life for. They were not safe on the deck. Rationally thinking they were best off downstairs where they couldn’t be thrown overboard from the wave. “Let’s take the important ones first,” he advised.

As they came back up for the last time finally done moving the numerous crates and supplies, he saw the ice shard hit Zak, grimacing slightly. Had Elriel been around, he could have stopped it with his powers. But now he just hoped it hadn’t hurt too badly. Or damaged his last few remaining brain cells. — Though from the sudden profanity, he assumed he was fine. “Don’t get knocked overboard!! These waters you hate so much would love to swallow you whole!”

His eyes continued up. And up. And up at the wave. Even if the sun was out it would be blocked from the sheer height alone and they were too close to avoid it now. The capital city of Valencia sat on the ocean, so he had enough experience on the water to know there was absolutely nothing they could do to avoid being pulled up. And the answer given by Darius as to if they could scale it, to flip a coin, didn’t give him confidence.

Upon hearing the instruction to brace, he wrapped his arm around Ada and grabbed the railing, intending to freeze himself to it as the incline got worse. But before that, his head snapped to Mavior as he landed. Only mentioning more problems. And there wasn’t much time to ask what he meant over the howling wind, instead looking into the pitch black water and not seeing much of anything? “Do you see it?” He asked Adamaris.

Elriel glanced at Ivan who was now kneeling. Clearly praying to whatever god his religion believed in. He had always found such things to be silly, but whatever gave someone peace in such perilous moments, was none of his concern. He yelled over the wind as the man grabbed a spear. “There is nothing to say the creature is one of evil intention. It has not attacked yet so let’s not be hasty!”

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

 

[Emphoa]

There's a moment Adamaris stares up at Elriel, and they wished that the two of them would have just returned home- to Elriel's mother instead of being here in the middle of this unforgiving and cold storm. Their breath hitching within their throat as they shut their eyes tightly, trying to find comfort in Elriel's words, in their promise. They knew that they would not be parted again, and they would not allow anything to come in between them. They shut their eyes even tighter, if possible before they finally let out a breath and they dipped their head. "Do not break that promise to me." They finally murmured to him, their eyes searching his before their gaze turned to the chaos that surrounded them.

"... You're right- it would be best to start getting them now." They admitted, they wouldn't want to even risk losing the supplies they had risked so much for. But with all the chaos, it was hard for Adamaris to pick just one thing to try and focus on, when there were individuals getting hurt- the waves strong, ice flying about.

They could feel their heart rate picking up and they were finally brought back down to earth when Elriel spoke again and their eyes snapped over onto Zak- grimacing from the injury he received. "This is a shit show." They couldn't help but murmur, and they would have missed the warning to brace had Elriel not wrapped an arm around them and puled them to the railing, their eyes snapped onto him as they reached out, gripping tightly as they let out a shaky breath, finding some comfort in the other as they turned their attention to the water.

... See it?

They shook their head, trying to clear their head as it seemed to be swimming from all the chaos, their eyes glancing over the water as they pursed their lips together and their grip tightened. "No- No I don't think I saw anything, but if it hasn't attacked it would be best not to evoke it's anger." They admitted with a shaky breath leaving their lips. Their eyes glancing back over towards the rest of the crew and their hands tightened more. "Gods can only hope that we do not have to handle that beast through the trouble we're already in."

Goliath Jet EldridSmith ManofManyRoles

 

[Jet]

The tower's room was more home than her house was, a slice of freedom away from the narrow lines she had to walk. The rusted walls peaked through posters of a dozen different political movements, popular as they were in the lands of eternal lockdown, and half of them hated the other half. They all had one thing in common though. They were great for a reporter looking for the next big story, because movements hoped to make headlines. It was a revolving door of increasingly daring attacks mixed with riots and the occasional protest, though usually that devolved into madness too. It was terrible for the island really, but to her it was a gold mine.

"I'm excited people," she said into her microphone. It was attached to a stolen transmitter from the train. "Does that make me sick? Should I be locked away for exploiting the pain of common people? Does the storied Kaesa need a stockade?"

"Should the People's Army nab me for profiteering on their island? Or should the Army of the People clip me for not being patriotic enough? Should they all get fucked?"

Her mouth contorted into a sophisticated smile with her lips forced out, and her pinky pointed away from her coffee mug. "I daresay my good men, they should be fucked and soon they will be. The riot is progressing poorly with Hydralines prevailing on the west side, reports of schisms are coming from the Port Nine Alliance, reds killing blues and blues killing greens, accusations of betrayal and working for the snakes! But let me tell you something that reporters don't know."

Keasa leaned towards her microphone. "Irina has captured agents from Nye, Vincent's very own along with Gail Hydraline. I followed them and saw the exchange go down, Irina had the coalition out in force. No way they walk out alive. This island has become a meat grinder people! You walk in and crosshairs lock onto your head. If you're not a fighter than stay off the fucking streets, don't get involved with these idiots unless you hate breathing more than—"

Kaesa stopped when her rabbit familiar chattered for her attention, eagerly staring down from the window.

"Give me a tick," she said before dropping the microphone, and looking outside she saw three morons staring at her tower. They didn't even have the decency to hide themselves. "So who wants me dead today Roger?"

Kaesa patted her familiar and grabbed her microphone once more. "Looks like I'm heading to station Zulu for the night folks, make sure to tune in, stay safe, stay away from the banner waving idiots, and never, ever trust the snakes."

She pulled the plug and tossed her belongings in a bag, before climbing to the rooftop of the tower.

—​

"Who do you think she is?" Kwame eyed the tower for any markings he could identify, but perhaps secrecy was the point. To onlookers it was an abandoned shack harboring birds and the occasional homeless person, but he wondered if this was a spy or assassin working for the greencloaks. They loved perches like the one they were staring at. "We may be dealing with a spy, could know where—"

A hatch opened on the roof of the small tower shack, and a lithe woman looked down from the top. "Fucking Mags! Go rob someone else!"

Kaesa leaped down landing on the nearest rooftop, breaking into a sprint the second she touched floor. Her speed was abnormal and probably enhanced by her magic, or perhaps the mutations of her rabbit familiar. Her legs morphed as she ran and she easily cleared the gaps between one building and the next, and Kwame narrowed his eyes as she grew smaller with each increasingly far building.

"Those who run are guilty in my experience, care to give chase my—

He cleared his throat and tried speaking like a commoner. "Little rats up to something eh?"

He sounded like a terrible actor from an equally terrible movie, but at least he was committed to the bit. "Let's nab her lads! It's been too long since I did a good crime like this!"

Fred Colon Lost Echo

 

[ManofManyRoles]

Felix Abdon

Felix glanced over at Isaacs plees for the men to be spared of a rightly deserved grave, the older man sidestepping a spear stab. Grabbing the soldiers wrist he wrenched it, and with as much ease as he'd snap a chicken's bone for meal preparation, there was an unpleasant crack as he jerked the soldiers wrist in an unseemly direction to make him drop the spear, Felix dropping him to the ground with a strong blow of his elbow into the back of his skull as he keeled over in pain...not dead, but painfully unconscious. "Forgive me, Mr. Isaac. Old habits, I'll endeavor not to cause undue death then." One of the soldiers sprinted past him towards Ilana as she reeled, stunned from her own overuse of magic. A scowl on his features as he thrust his hand up towards Ilana, a beam of light flying forth to spear the warrior straight through his Achilles tendon and send him sprawling to the ground with curses and several meters from Ilana. "I would request you lay and leave the young miss to herself," he calmly scolded from a distance as the man lay howling and hurling curses at Felix.

By now, many of the warriors had begun to circle Felix as they broke from the disarray caused by the illusionary snakes...with Felix no longer seeking to kill them without good reason, a snake that had no bite wasn't very intimidating. Especially when his enemies had begun to quickly learn it would not bite. The illusions were dropped as the one physical cobra wove through the men's legs back to Felix's side, rearing up and flaring its hood in a cold hiss. Some of the men remained near the women, but Ilana had blocked their escape...and a few warning shots of pure light that had whizzed past their heads had made them wary of getting too close to her. Close enough to guard, not close enough to touch for fear of dropping dead for the attempt.

"Your stamina will not last forever, elder. You cannot fight all of us. You fight with spirit, but your body is weak." Felix frowned at one of the warriors who barked the doubts towards him, reaching his hand to his hip. "It is a fool who looks upon an old knight, and thinks he is a tottering old man. The inexperienced die in their youth, it is your elders you should be mindful of." With the hiss of metal being pulled free, Felix pulled the rapier free from the scabbard at his hip. The blade seemed to dance in the light, polished to perfection to the point one could make out their own reflection in the smooth metal. "I will not kill you, lest you should make me. But you shall bring no further harm to these people..." Three warriors charged forward towards him, only for Felix to...double, and those doubles to double again.

Where there was once one old butler, now there stood four. One of the spears passed clean through, only for the mirage to simply appear right back behind the warrior. One mirage's legs were swept, and another Felix deftly flicked his wrist as his rapier caused the spear to go wide only for another unpleasant crack could be heard, the butt of the rapier driven into the warriors temple as he overstepped with his followthrough...another unconscious body. The butler's movements had become precise and finessed as he'd drawn the blade...like it was an elaborate dance he stepped to, and his opponents didn't know it even if he was outnumbered physically. The uncertainty of the mirages made it difficult to gauge where to attack, and Felix was quick to punish any who got greedy in their attempts to take his life. A glance over his shoulder towards the would be kidnapee caused him to grit his teeth, a beam of light fired off towards her. A scream of pain as a man's fingers were removed from the hand who had reached towards her to grab her.

But attacking in such a way showed where he actually was, and suddenly quite a good deal more spears were thrust towards him as he now had to juggle occasionally revealing his position to keep the girl from being grabbed, and defending himself for the overstep. Near Ilana, the warrior who'd rushed her cursed and groaned, starting to claw his way through the sand towards her.

Jet ZackStop​

 

[Fred Colon]

The woman darted from the tower and began, Kilderkin excused herself the pun, 'haring' across the buildings. Kilderkin would usually be inclined to agree with Kwame, people that run often had a reason. But on this battle torn island, most people had a good excuse to flee from strangers. That said, she seemed extra quick off the mark, and a little out of place here. So she nodded.

"Aye. Saw somfink' shiney in 'er pockets. Keep up wif' me ifn' ye can, lads 'n lasses." Kilderkin said, trying to match Kwame's terrible low-class accent, in an attempt to make his poor acting a bit less egregious.

Kilderkin pointed her hand toward the tower and used her elemental item for the first time in a while.

She hadn't used it in her first fight, because she had wanted future opponents to think her fancy-looking sword to be an elementally powered item, when all it was was a sword. So if she met an opponent that was a particularly tough fight, she could surprise them with her device. But there was no point in hiding it from Kwame or Evaline. There was a time when you had to realize that not utilizing your resources was more harmful than spoiling the element of surprise you might achieve with them in the future.

A barbed, three-pronged grappling hook, with a serrated spike sitting in the center of the prongs, burst from the contraption on her wrist in a spray of water, trailing a heavy cable. It wrapped around the tower, and Kilderkin let the device yank her up, aiding her flight through the air by manipulating the water in her body to do some of the work lifting her, and to steel her shoulder and arm against the yank of the cable. As she ascended, she merged with her familiar, Joshua. Her limbs became longer and more limber, her teeth sharper, jaw elongated, and her skin becoming slick. She began darting across the tops of the buildings. She couldn't run as fast as the Rabbit woman, but clearing the gaps in the buildings was a simple matter for her, lifting the water in her body to give her a brief moment of levitation to cross even the farthest gaps.

"We were just curious, lass!" Kilderkin shouted after the woman, moderating her uneducated peasant accent to be just a tad less extreme. "But when someone runs, we chase! Makes us a damn sight *more* curious!"

While the Rabbit woman was certainly fast, Kilderkin attempted to make up the distance by occasionally using her grapple to yank herself forward at great speed, hopefully making up the distance ever so slowly. Hopefully, the other two had ways of moving quickly as well. It wouldn't be good for her to be caught out alone like this, especially not while exposing herself on the roof tops as she was.

Jet Emphoa

 

[Goliath]

“Hmm. Well, amen to the drinking part,” Goliath agreed with Adrian. Not caring about the rest of his riddle, sitting and standing and whatever. He’d dealt with enough of those lately, shivering at the memories of the hag that were still in the front of his mind.

Nyall — he was a good distraction. “You’re not supposed to like it,” Goliath rolled his eyes. He raised a curious eyebrow when he was asked if he had an expression in mind, but he didn’t have a chance to respond before Nihal began to pose with his hands out like paws.

Goliath truthfully hadn’t paid any attention to the cat boys interview before the great games, or even his fight. He was only there to watch those who were strong so it was his first time seeing it. But Goliath almost could have guessed his choice of pose simply from his short stay in the city. He’d noticed that people with feline familiars seemed to do that to look cute??

What Goliath hadn’t been expecting was for him to get on his knees and start begging in front of the group, even if it wasn’t meant to be serious. An amused smirk spreading across his lips as he stared down at him, not one to get shy about such things. “Don’t call me sir. It makes me feel old,” he chuckled under his breath.

He hadn’t intended to share his tent when he’d first said it, just wanting to mess with him. He had a thing about having his own personal space and he didn’t think Nyall would care about sleeping in the open with the others. But well.. “Not bad. Consider me tempted. You’ll owe me though,” he smirked.

Vixie wasn’t at all trying to be secretive in her attempt to convince Nyall not to beg or share a tent with him, using fire as a bribe. And honestly, he couldn’t even blame her. But surprisingly she had been good for something earlier, she’d been able to stop Bean. Not that he would say that out loud. — Though Adrian had that covered.

When he heard Faraji’s comment about begging not being enough, he opened his mouth to say something rather x-rated but then decided against it. He wasn’t with his gang brothers in the north anymore .. there were young ears here. And then there was Adrian’s words. What were they talking about? Why would Faraji care about Marigold’s well-being?

It didn’t matter, he was tired. Too tired to think. Goliath turned, finishing the last segment of the tent before holding the opening for the cat boy. “Go on before I change my mind,” he spoke. If Nyall went through, he’d follow inside behind him. The tent was designed to be big enough for one person but they could make it work.

“Where I’m from the cold, and the snow, will kill you before hunger or thirst,” he shrugged. Goliath grabbed his sleeping bag, unzipping it all the way before throwing it down. Normally he’d sleep inside it but he only had one and didn’t want to make Nyall sleep on the metal floor.

Finally done setting up he tossed his backpack in the corner and then looked at the other. “This is your warning. Don’t touch my shit while I sleep.” His voice was serious, wanting him to know he wasn’t joking about his backpack. But then he relaxed, sitting down with a slight groan. It was good to finally be off his feet.

He could sleep right now, no doubt, but he found himself a little curious about the guy who’d begged his way into his tent. “You know, Firefly, you seemed to have some experience doing that out there,” Goliath commented though there was no judgment in his tone.

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

 

[Goliath]

Leon was half-dazed by everything that was happening around him. The loud explosions to the east. The smell of smoke. The throbbing pain in his shoulder and this fucked up situation. Their group of four was struggling to defeat one person while the rest of their team was fighting a mob. — The redhead was quickly learning he was not cut out for war. He was weak.

And to top it off .. both of his friends were no longer beside him because they were trying to capture their attacker, leaving him with the blonde doctor that he did not trust. Though none of what happened to him moments earlier mattered while Mischa was up in the air trying to be a distraction for Rat. He .. needed them both to be safe.

Leon heard the frantic yell from Rat and cussed under his breath. He quickly moved from behind the wooden wall like his body was on autopilot. Spear? His eyes locked onto what was happening, the grappling hook moving through the air at high speeds .. toward the man who had a spear to Mischa’s neck.

Yua probably would have been better to stop the stone weapon, using the same element, but he didn’t trust her. Leon could only trust himself. He reached his hands out, the same well next to the burning house coming in handy now, especially since the attacker couldn’t see it behind him.

He didn’t have much time to think, but Leo knew he couldn’t do anything to physically attack the man and risk messing up the trajectory of Rat’s magitech weapon — which left the spear. Leon took a deep breath and formed the water, as thin as a blade. His sister had always been the better one with control and accuracy but he aimed anyway, placing the triangle between his two hands on the middle of the spear just like she showed him.

“Fucking work,” he exclaimed before launching the blast forward to cut the rock and hopefully knock it out of his hands if he was lucky. His powers were stronger than they had ever been solely out of sheer desperation, not wanting to lose anyone else close to him. Not Mischa with her cheerful laugh. She didn’t deserve to die this way! “Please..”

Jet (Mischa) Emphoa (Rat) ManofManyRoles (Yua)

 

[Jet]

He listened with a calm patience that never seemed to waver, a diplomat's nature from his years in the courts of Parth. He did find it amusing though. His origins had been uncovered no matter how he blended with the local tribes, but that saved them from an annoying misconception. Indeed he was no ordinary prisoner, and not an ordinary man either.

"Once I was a man with great power and wealth, a member of the Parthian merchant court. I oversaw a number of routes to the western gates of Zuanshi — though I've always done business more honestly than them."

He nodded and sipped from his strong drink, though he paced himself more than most in his situation, never one to lose his brain in a bottle. "I came here seeking trade deals for the honor of my people, but was taken by this—"

He dismissively waved his hand. "Yellow King as he calls himself."

"He has taken everything from me." It was a cold statement instead of a lamentation. "But now I must return the favor in kind, and I extend to you a position at my side."

He looked around the room with a smile creeping across his face, opportunism in his eyes like hot coals. He was a merchant by trade and that meant profit no matter the time and place, and sometimes the best opportunities were in the worst places.

"Do you know what this mine produces?" He arched his brow before answering his own question. "It produces nothing."

"Not an ounce of gold you will find, not a vein of iron you will find. We are not digging for the valuables of common men, but an item of unimaginable value. The Yellow King thirsts for it like a man crawling through the desert for water, and we are his footsoldiers to find it."

He flashed surprisingly white teeth when his smile opened to a grin. "But we will take it from him and when we do, we will escape this place and become rich men—"

"And women," he courteously said to Euclair. "As for your black eyed child. Your people call them nulls."

He touched his mouse with the side of his thumb, somewhere between a pet and a tap. "They take from us the gift of the Alkhaliq, our magic leaves us at their soulless gaze."

He looked away and pretended to spit on the ground. "They are not human — ealayhim allaena, a curse be upon them. You cannot defeat what is not from this world. The spawn of devils who lay with weak men."

That was how the stories went at least, but no-one really knew where they came from. They were extremely rare with only one case found in Parth, and the Parthians never had a chance to study them, not when the executioners took their bloody toll. There were rumors of experimentation done in Nye — a lab or prison somewhere on the ocean. The kind of conspiracy whispered about at court, but there was no evidence for the matter. It was a fanciful tale as far as he was concerned. He was a man of facts and anything who could cripple a man with its mere presence, was not a human being in his eyes.

EldridSmith Monbon

 

[Anne Boolean]

Nyaall continued to mindlessly watch the bard's beating, at least until Bean's gaze fell on Vixie. She had touched him, taken a hold of his arm to get him to stop, something he had yet to see anyone else do. His eyes widened as he feared the worst. Maybe she would succeed, but only to suffer the same torment that Marigold was being put through. He got ready to jump in, unsure of how he could have any effect against the power of a Centurion, but more than willing to throw himself in between them to pry them apart.

Thankfully, it didn't come to that. He let out a sigh of relief when Bean's rage seemed to have subsided and Marigold was left to lament about how he could have steered them wrong.

When it came to sleeping arrangements, Vixie offered to start a fire and keep it roaring through the night to keep things warm. "We don't know what lives around here..." he responded with an apologetic gaze, "and what a fire could attract." Plus, with how often she had bumped into him while they walked, he was certain she needed her rest too. That became even more apparent as she fused with her familiar, taking on its more furry characteristics to keep warm, and curling up and dozing off right there. Only then did the realization hit that in Vivian's stuff, there was no tent either. He looked around. Perhaps there was at least a blanket he could put over her.

At least one other person wasn't sleeping in a tent tonight it seemed. Adrian seemed to get comfortable with just using his pack as a pillow and sipping some booze.

It turned out Faraji didn't have a tent either. Well, now he felt bad. Still, the begging had worked, if not only for entertainment. As Goliath held the way open for Nihal after setting it up, he glanced once more at the others. Yeah, it definitely felt unfair, but he had no sleeping bag or fur. He had been softened over the years, living in the lap of luxury, even with his shackles, and he wouldn't be able to shake off a rough night like Adrian could. From the hard times of his youth, he still had the drive to do whatever it took to survive. He gave a grateful smile to Goliath before stepping in the tent, willing to take on whatever debt would be put on him, even if it was what Faraji had insinuated.

He let the soldier choose his side of the tent and laid down in the space next to him. "Of course," he assured when warned not to touch any of Goliath's things.

The idol gave an amused look to Goliath's next comment. "Well, my management has had me posing from day one," he said with a smirk before rolling onto his back and staring up at the fabric covering them. "... I didn't come from wealth or status. Shame means nothing when survival is on the line." The mischievous glint then returned to his eye as he rolled on his side once again to face Goliath. "Besides, even if I was the one on my knees, it seemed like you were the one truly begging." He let out a chuckle.

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

 

[Lost Echo]

Esther paused. Her business was to study this place. She was content to stay right here. Especially if they’d be kind enough to leave a spot on the floor she could sleep on. Anything with a roof was enough for her.

It was fascinating though. They seemed to have made the monster snake into a deity. Apep. “Mount?” though was surprising. Like Sleipnir, the monster was controlled. By one who saw the future. Except the seer vanished. The beast was without a master.

“When did the seer vanish?” She needed this to be clearer, but didn’t want to offend her source. She couldn’t tell how the big snake was whispering, but maybe that was a metaphor…they seemed to have the same meaning.

She reached up, pressing the heel of her hands into her eyes as the merc spewed out his nonsense. No need to listen to that. Dart landed on her shoulder. She slid them down her face as the hot girl and her sidekick decided they were going to brave the death mines. Yeah, her point in offering to help the natives would likely endear them, but they would need to be alive to use that endearment.

With a gusty sigh, Esther let her hands drop. “Possible or not, it would be foolish for us to go now. I fear I am exhausted, but more than that we are strangers here. We need information about the yellow king, the other kings and your king.” She looked at the elder. “How will we recognize your sons or prove to them you have sent us? To go in without answers would be foolish.” Then sighed again, and said with a crooked smile, “As would going without rest. I do not want to impose on you, but any shelter over a place to lay our heads would be welcomed.” As would food, but she knew not to ask for too much.

Jet ZackStop Arcanist

 

[Jet]

​

"BRACE!" Darius screamed over the storm. "BRACE FOR IMPACT!"

Zack ignored the order and rushed to the bow. He leaned over the side and peered into the endless abyss, gripping the rail as the ship tilted downwards, hammering the waves like Hephaestus himself. The sea exploded on impact like sparks from a blade, embracing the boy who embraced Poseiden's wrath. The ship leaned upwards on a wave reaching into the heavens. Her beams creaked and groaned because this was her greatest test of endurance, and a thousand years of tradition, a thousand years of expert ship building, every moment was needed now.

She reached the top and slammed down with the force of a lightning bolt. The prow bent upwards but the wood didn't break, only warping to the pressures of the sea. The clouds parted over them and suddenly, as if the storm had never even been there, the waters were calm once again.

Zak peeled his fingers from the sopping wooden rail. He could barely feel them from the cold freezing his bones. His heart fluttered once but like usual when his life was threatened, there was a serene calm within his mind. He saw clearest when death loomed over him.

"Yeah," he said to Mavior. "No shot that was luck."

"Was divine intervention if you ask me. I credit armored Jesus." He nodded at the knight for the prayers he'd been chanting. "Well done, though the man upstairs, in his infinite wisdom, coulda spared us the storm and saved us the fuckin trouble."

He looked up and mockingly grinned at the heavens, the big man could fuck himself with a mountain of sticks with another, much larger mountain of sticks beneath it. He despised God if he existed. No decent God would allow the atrocities of Macragge to persist. No God would punish the good and empower the wicked. No God would allow him to roam free.

"So what's this about a sea monster?" He leaned overboard and laughed to himself. "I don't see a bloody thing!"

He looked back at the crew and smiled like a shark. "Aint no sea monster, and the ship?"

He walked to the mast and gave it a firm smack. "Never been better!"

There was a loud creak and the mast slowly leaned to the side, then snapped free and crashed into the water. There was another big splash and a shadow loomed over from behind. His smile froze and he slowly turned his head, seeing a massive whale larger than a castle, scars covering its pale white face. It greeted them with a deep, ominous song, vibrating the ship until nails popped from their holdings, and its teeth were longer than two men stacked upon each other. Yet the whale didn't attack them. It curiosly watched them with eyes more intelligent than normal beasts. There was an element of pity within them, and defensiveness to humans who'd done so much harm, hunted whales until the great northern oceans, once filled with songs like a great Cathedral, were now lonely and quiet.

Zak scoffed at the impressive beast. If he was going to become a snack for a whale larger than a small town, he preferred an ironic set of last words.

ManofManyRoles Goliath Emphoa EldridSmith

 

[ZackStop]

It felt like the world was spinning as if she had been going 90 miles per hour on a merry-go-round, all while the flashing lights flickered across her retinas like a bolt of lightning. Not particularly the stimuli one suffering from these effects could find helpful but rather harmful, only increasing the burning in Ilana's head.The overexertion of magic was a feeling she had never experienced before but had been warned about by her late master, as an answer to one of her many stupid questions, ones expected from her younger self, but she had not realized at the time the gravity of such a thing. Now she had. Her stone fortress was crashing down around her and it was only a matter of time before someone too advantage of her weakened state.

Ilana put an arm over her eyes like a shroud as Felix did what he could to keep the woman safe, meaning using his quite literal flashy moves to keep the men distant from their victim. She tried to get up with everything she had, but she was numb and off balance. In the end, she was just like a magnet stuck to a sheet of metal with no will to pry itself away. Every second felt like a meandering slog of discomfort thanks to her exertion of not only her magic but her very psyche with weeks of torture. She was kicking herself for it now as things were about to get a lot worse for her if she found no way to defend herself.

The man dragged himself towards her bit by bit, clawing at the dry soil determined to slit her throat no doubt, and with every inch Ilana began running out of options. One thing she would never do is cry for help, she was too strong for that. So instead she resorted to a figurative back pocket, saving a concealed weapon for desperate times, not wanting to reveal all her cards from the get go. Now was a desperate time. She reached back towards her leather belt as the man drew near, and a couple of deep breaths later Ilana lashed out at him.

With the crack of a whip, Ilana swiped the man across the face as he cried out in pain, leaving a bloody gash along his eye and cheek. She grunted as the motion caused her to fall over, but managing to get up on one knee she hoped to stall him with her secret deterrent. In reality she was too weak to crack another one at him with as much force as the last, she simply prayed he didn't catch on.

Jet ManofManyRoles

 

[Jet]

​

Johan accepted his doom when he entered the submarine, one designed and manufactured by a fucking child. This was not a submersible, he surmised. It was a suicide pod and the captain was schizophrenic. They would be crushed and Damian would laugh and rub his hands together. They would sink to the bottom and fish would pick him apart like vultures, and what made it even better, and really this was great, was how useless his magic was in the ocean. He could stop water like skin stopping a sword — like dried leaves stopping a fire. His mutations were equally useless so instead of creating his own destiny, he was at the mercy of a man wearing fluorescent rainboots.

"Wow, a submarine built by a child." He looked around and rubbed his chin. "That's something else."

"Tis the truth!" The captain earnestly smiled at him. "Not a mere sailors tale! My cousin met him once!"

"Thanks," Johan said. "I was really hoping it was true. You have no idea how relieved I am."

The captain narrowed his eyes for a moment. He measured the centurion but looked away before answering in kind. He'd no interest in dealing with snappy young lads. Instead he answered Anya with a proud glimmer in his eyes. "Aye you can see the engine!"

He looked up at the ceiling. There was a gearbox connected to the walls by pipes spanning in all directions, and lining the walls were hatches of gleeming stainless steal, each one hiding gears and belts and pistons pumping oil. He started the engine and the walls hummed with life, spinning wheels and belts and gears shuddered around them, a metallic ecosystem of ten thousand moving parts, all merged seamlessly with the walls.

"You're inside the engine my boy! This sub is a living engine, not a part wasted except the benches."

"I've no idea how the lad managed to pull it off, a miracle I say!"

Johan was less than enthused. Not only was it designed by a minor and piloted by a moron, it was also experimental. It was a prime example of how terrible their luck was, but he didn't broach the subject. They were diving and casting doubts would accomplish what exactly? To make everyone more nervous? He'd said enough and already regretted his complaints. He was supposed to be positive not spoil everything he touched with his pessimism, but he'd never been much for leadership, always rational instead of bringing the energy, or whatever it was that people wanted.

He could help Narzas though. That had to count for something.

He dumped out his satchel and passed it over to her, gently touching her arm and leaning against her shoulder. "I'll bill the green cloaks for a new one."

"Ubexpected medical expenses," he said with a humble smile. "A life saving venture for a trusted companion."

"They might give me a medal for it." He was sure the other woman would take exception to his offer — jealous and petty as she was — but he wasn't too concerned. Marj would come and go but Narzas would stand by him, and he wanted Marj to know that. It was spiteful but she'd done enough to deserve it.

His gaze drifted to the mound of crap from his leather satchel, a couple knives and a sharpening kit, a few bandages and snacks for the road. He'd packed a little booze and one pack of smokes alongside it, creature comforts for when there was a moment to rest. There was also a small cylinder containing the cream Ren was looking for.

"Your lucky day," he said to the boy. His familiar flew down and snatched the cylinder from the floor, before passing it to the young man.

"So, Ren." He looked from Ren to Anya and back again. His brow rose by a suggestive sliver. "Dangerous times we live in."

His brow rose by a second, more noticeable sliver. He hoped Ren would understand his meaning. "Dangerous times are the best times for questionable decisions; you should make a few just in case."

rozukitsune ZackStop Lost Echo Huntertabbysandshark3

 

[rozukitsune]

Renn - Reneé Cloîne, The Burning Song

The conversation continued to devolve as Gailene argued against such violence and the others called her out for being naive. Words filled the space of Vincent's endless failings and how if he was removed the Nobles would swarm on the council as rabid wolves might descend upon themselves. Her newborn uncertainties warred with the facts as they were. Even when she wanted to forget... that wasn't entirely true. She knew things about the system that the others did not - given she came from within it.

Vincent had never been intended to have the position he held and it was a constant point of contention. In actuality, they would be relieved to have him destroyed. The nobles could have things go back to the way things had been before he'd ever taken up a position of power and all would be as it should. She chewed her lips in thought as she followed Charlie and the others to the talking corner.

Every so often, she glanced over toward Irina and tried to keep her voice low as she spoke. It was more or less impossible they wouldn't be overheard here. She had to be very careful about what she suggested in this space where one wrong word might have their heads rolling. Her eyes met Charlie's as the girl tried to focus on her and she clenched and unclenched her fists nervously. "I... don't know." She hedged, trying to find the old part of herself that remembered manners and being politically correct. She sucked in a breath and let it out, then continued; "Even if what she says about Vincent is the truth - maybe it is, maybe it isn't... that isn't the real problem." She frowned, "The problem is, I don't think the effect will be everything she hopes for. Vincent isn't exactly the most beloved guy on the face of Nye. They'd be more likely to pin a medal on her or offer her a spot as a Centurion for getting rid of him than tear themselves apart."

Jet Lost Echo ManofManyRoles EldridSmith

 

[ZackStop]

Staring at the symbol as the seconds passed wasn't doing anything to help Ren know what it meant, still at the conclusion that it was a just a simple trademark. He decided dwelling on it any longer would just be a waste of time, and so he turned his head forward again just in time to witness Anya removing her legs. Wait-"Removing her legs?" Ren thought to himself with a brief look of fright as they just stood there on their own like it was a horror movie. He could hear the harpsichord playing in his head. With a brief exhale however, those thoughts washed away. He knew that she had prosthetics after seeing her merge with Kallos a few times, seeing them stand without a body was a tad shocking however. He looked closer at them out of sheer fascination while wondering how they were built. Compared to his weapon of choice they were far superior and definitely more complex.

He cooked up some theories on how some of it worked for a moment before looking at Anya, who was ever the gearhead even now, asking the sailor about the engine. It was reminiscent to earlier this morning on the air ship when the two of them had a chance to peruse. He found it funny that it had only been some odd hours since then and how many things happened since. Perhaps it was the radical change in lifestyle; one day in a simple repair shop and the next traveling with Centurions and assassins, thrust into all sorts of danger. It was the life he wanted to experience since he was young, but now that he was here, He didn't know if he should be excited or regretful. About to be plunged several fathoms below to encounter any number of dangers.

The hum and rattle of the submarine coming alive broke Ren out of his deep thought and grew eyes of wonder. It was like they were inside of a working clock, a feeling that gave Ren a sense of warmth. It was truly strange for someone to have such a reaction, unless of course they were as into machines as Ren was.

"Woah, cool." The boy looked up and muttered like a zombie, or perhaps the average teenager.

He did turn his attention to the bat flying over head with the answer to his pleading nose. He was amazed Johan kept some. Ren clapped his hands as the container fell to him. He carefully uncapped it as he looked to the centurion as he spoke.

"Dangerous times...?" He followed his eyes over at Anya then back at Johan, then looked down to see what he was doing as he started unscrewing the cap. "Yeah, I guess so." It wasn't until he continued his thought that Ren looked up again and noticed that eyebrow. The cursed eyebrow. He slowly looked back at the preoccupied girl then thought for a moment.

"I don't think now is the time to be asking about the legs..." His voice trailed off. It was as soon as he finished his sentence that the gears starting cranking in his head. The cursed eyebrow Johan was giving him. The look in Ren's eyes revealed the exact moment he understood the centurion. And so, without hesitation, he took a huge glob of the cream and smeared it on his nose in hopes to smear away that embarrassing thought away as well. It did manage to do so, but only from the overwhelming scent attacking his airways. With so much at once, the sickening mint odor was unintentionally inhaled causing him to go into a violent coughing fit, gripping his knee as he nearly keeled over in this cramped vessel. A raspy breath after another cough.

"I'm okay, I'm okay!" He tried his best to assure the others as his voice strained.

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