Fantasy The Great Games of Nye

[Lost Echo]

Curled up, Vixie wrapped her tail around her, suppressing a shudder. She couldn’t suppress the memory of holding Bean’s gaze. His eyes had been dark, catching the little light around them. It was a surprise her knees hadn’t buckled when he was looking away. How had she done it? Why had he given in? Why had he stopped? It couldn’t be because he just listened to her.

Being more vulpine, the scent of blood was easy to catch. It was expected, but it didn’t seem to be fading. Instead it was almost as if it were still fresh. She looked over at Marigold as he spoke, his voice more difficult to hear through his battered face. “Could something have changed?” She mumbled, raising her hands to rub at tired eyes. She sat up, leaning on her hands to stay upright. The man was still bleeding: she had to help. She had to prove her worth on this trip. Her gaze flicked to the closed tent, then away again.

Pushing off the ground, she stood unsteadily, her tails fanning to keep her upright. She shuffled over to the bard, then looked at Faraji. “Do you have any bandages?” She doubted Goliath would give up any he had. Marigold wasn’t pretty like Nyaall was.

Jet Arcanist Goliath Anne Boolean

 

[rozukitsune]

Curled up in against herself, she didn't bother responding to Anya's comment. Whether or not she wanted to go and help was irrelevant. This was the only lead any of them had to the next step in their journey. It had literally been part of the trail of breadcrumbs they'd followed from the factory. The factory address had led to Damian. Damian had sent them to this submarine. This was definitely one of those endless fetch quests that would assuredly either get them stabbed in the back or else actually onto the path toward their ultimate goal. After all, both herself and Johan had no real choice. Vincent had them both on a leash and if they tried to writhe free without having some kind of plan... they would just be dead. Hell, even with a plan they'd at least have targets on their backs the rest of their lives.

She liked actively choosing to help since it was an option here. It made things seem less dire.

She was stirred from her internal war with her uneasy stomach by Johan's gentle touch. She glanced up at him in mute displeasure a moment before realizing he was offering her his emptied satchel.

"I'll bill the green cloaks for a new one."

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

She blinked up at him with unmasked appreciation. Such a simple gesture - but to her it was everything. She smiled and leaned into him as he did her, "Thank you."

Marjorie did her best not to gag. With Johan over there going out of his way to piss her off it wouldn't do for him to think he was actually succeeding. Instead she threw at his contemptuous glance her direction a cheerful - and entirely false; innocent smile.

They would get what was coming to them, there was no reason whatsoever for her to add to it directly. Sooner or later, the letter she'd sent would reach the hands of those with a personal interest in taking care of this problem for her~. And once they did, Johan would be nothing more than a shattered shell of a man. That was more than enough incentive for her smile to be as bright as possible. It also didn't hurt that she was probably the only one here with an aquatic familiar. If worse came to worse she could just destroy the sub and kill everyone inside, then make her way back to the surface at her leisure. She just really, really hated getting her own hands dirty if it could be helped.

Even her current mission was just a simple delivery. Any actual torturing or murdering would be someone else's job~

Jet Lost Echo Huntertabbysandshark3 ZackStop

 

[Huntertabbysandshark3]

Ava Marco
Interaction: Jet Lost Echo ZackStop​

Ava was starting to.. kinda regret going along with this, just a bit. Still, it was either ignore it and wonder if the world was gonna explode for some god damn reason it try and maybe die.. in a tin box at the bottom of the o- no seriously what the hell was she looking at? "well lets just hope it all holds together should to do if it a miracle it worked at all it should hold together that's normally how these sorta things work" Ava spoke up trying to be somewhat reassuring about the whole situation, in her usual scatter brained way or was it really scatterbrained? ava wasn't sure herself half the time but hey things worked out so far if they just kept it up maybe they'd all get out of here alive.

 

[Jet]

Isaac planned to sit back and watch like a disappointed father, all the squabbling between them was getting older than he was. The warband had already lost even if they didn't admit the truth, but instead of running away with their tails between their legs, now they wanted to kill out of spite, a raw hatred driving the last few of them forward, a hunger to kill with their last gasping breaths. It'd become pointless barbarism. He swelled with frustration and despite his decision to watch from the sidelines, he wouldn't abide this kind of violence. Not when Ilana was so close to the grave. Her opponent screamed out through the blood streaming down his face, driven forwards by murderous rage. He would die trying to kill Ilana, and that was a chance Isaac wouldn't take. Even if he needed to break his personal creed.

"You should've crawled the other direction." He waved his hand and suddenly the man was frozen like a statue. His hand reached out immobile and even his eyes were locked in place. His chest still rose with slow and shallow breaths, but only by the thinnest of margins. It was the closest Isaac would come to killing them.

"Endurance is its own skill." Isaac shuffled to Ilana and looked down at her face. "The strong man moved a boulder. The smart man used a lever to move ten."

"Even if it's not particularly honorable." He reached out his hand. "Find a lever like our friend here."

He looked back at the young man. Felix was surrounded but with so many clones to distract his opponents, he was keeping himself out of harm's way. Isaac was impressed but equally tired of the warband's attack. They'd done enough damage and with one wrong move, with one mistake Felix would be dead. Isaac was done taking chances with murderous men. He waved his hand and each one of them froze for a fleeting moment, stopping their attack from the sheer surprise of it.

"Leave." Isaac gave them a stern glare. "Do not return. Your next welcome won't be as warm."

Their last remaining leader stepped forwards with the same bravado as before, though now it was more delusional than intimidating. "You do not command us!" He proudly banged on his chest. "You do not—"

He froze again but this time it didn't stop. He was like a statue with his snarling mouth locked in place, his body frozen mid-step with his foot almost off the ground. He tilted backwards from the imbalance, but just Isaac waved again before he dropped. His body sprang into life and he stumbled back to catch himself, staring at Isaac like a demon had possessed him. He swallowed down a word before slowly backing away from the fight, a cautious glint within his eyes.

He muttered a foreign word to his companions. They shared a glance and followed their leader away from the hopeless battle. For them it was seemingly over.

Isaac was happy it was done, but his attacks left a bad taste in his mouth. His decision to watch wasn't the only promise he'd broken today, but it was all for the greater good. The town was safe aside from the skirmish on the other side, and he prayed it would end favorably. The fire would cause enough damage without any lives being lost, and he couldn't stomach the thought of a slaughter.

ZackStop ManofManyRoles

 

[Jet]

"Go where you please impatient one, but know you will be alone on your travels. We cannot aid you on your escape, not when our path takes us to the mines of Old Umbria," she smiled at the butchered name of Eumbrea — their version lacked the poetry of her ancestral home. The cradle of civilization where Kratorians emerged thousands of years ago, true titans of magic and technology. Their like would never again grace the world. Their names were already forgotten parodies of themselves.

"You confuse me with your cowardly lords, Esther of the east. We do not send others to do what we cannot. We will break the chains from those who were taken, and my kingdom will stand beside you. I make this vow as Abaranne, High Truth of the Ya'mak, on the field I will fight alongside you."

"That is what true kings do," she nodded at the canned woman, like tinned food traded by eastern merchants. There'd been a Parthian swindler who sold them spoiled tins, but that was neither here nor there. What mattered was freeing those within the prison.

"I couldn't agree more," she said in a tone stronger than she seemed, looking at Brynwr with eyes of rolled steel. "Together we can make the impossible come true."

"But you are outsiders," her eyes softened now that her speech was done. Indeed they had no obligation to risk everything in her war, even if their companions were imprisoned. It was their choice and even if they said no, they were honored guests for saving her grandson.

"The choice lay with you, and you are honored guests no matter what path you choose." Her gaze moved to Esther with the same warmth as before. The woman wanted more than what she was asking for, but the village was at their disposal. To Abarrane they were already heroes.

"Your journey has been hard, your survival even harder. Take what you need and give nothing back — what is ours is yours." Abaranne paused and went to her branch-weaved throne, leaning into the seat with a content sigh. Her eyes glossed over recalling the stories from her youth. The tales bestowed by men of the tallest trees. They were the memory of her people, and the Seer was an ancient, ancient tale, passed down for thousands of years. There was no telling what was fact and what was legend, but the story went as she said, "The Seer was one of the old gods, when they walked among us long ago. He was lost in the war of heavens."

"His mount is no ordinary beast, spawned of divine magic beyond our limited realm. It has the power to bewitch whomever it speaks to. The Yellow Kings have been his agents, their eyes turn yellow from the foul magic of the mount. They do his bidding like the very slaves they subject."

"They are no true kings."

She resisted the urge to spit on the wooden floor. "He is a pawn, and perhaps we can break the chains holding him as well, but such magic may be far beyond us."

ZackStop Lost Echo Arcanist

 

[Emphoa]

A lot seemed to be happening as Eva's eyes fixated onto the tower, her eyebrows furrowed just for a moment as she tried to get a good look at the woman. Tried to listen to whatever it was that was going on... "Are you sure we should be jumping right to spies?" She finally mumbled out, and she wasn't sure what they should consider to be a possible lead- or not. She sighed a little bit at the thought as her eyes scanned their surroundings, noting anything that stood out to her- before her head snapped over at the sound of the hatch and the woman's voice. Her eyes flickering just for a moment as she opened her mouth to say something...

Dammit.

Evaline pursed her lips together as the woman took to running and she supposed they just weren't subtle enough. She let out a breath, her eyes snapped between Kawme and Kilderkin as she gauged what the two were going to do when Kilderkin pulled out what seemed to be a grappling hook. And she was off just like that, before Evaline glanced at Kwame and gave a little bit of a smile. "Sounds pretty good to me." She puffed out, and she was off, merging with her familiar to have in place large- outstretched wings with talons to match, pushing herself up into the air in a moment. "Hope you can keep up, my friend!" She called right back at Kwame just before she had taken off.

It had been a little while since she had gone flying, and she wished she could have the armor on while she was exposing herself in the air like this. But- she felt it was a risk they could take as she tried to keep up pace with Kilderkin and the woman, her eyes gleaming just a touch as she stretched out the talons that she now had. There was no time for dallying when they had a chase upon their hands and she inhaled sharply from the rush of wind through her hair.

Jet Fred Colon

 

[Lost Echo]

It felt like there was a pressure inside of her. Gailene listened to her sister talk about unimportant stuff, like feasts and wine. Didn’t she miss her? Late nights sneaking into each other’s bedroom talking until dawn? Irina would manage their makeup so their mothers wouldn't guess, but Gailene would inevitably fall asleep during a boring meeting. Irina had always made her feel safe, wanted. Had Gailene just been a burden?

She pushed that back. It wasn’t important. Right now, getting Irina home was. “Maybe alone,” she admitted, that Irina wouldn’t be welcomed, “but with Elyscia…” they could convince their cousin to purpose it. With her reputation--no one would doubt them.

Except Irina was moving on. Her face scrunched. Of course she didn’t pity Vincent. He was the power behind Nye. Equal if not more power than the nobles. It belonged to the noble families and he’d left his behind. He could have used his power to control the Centurions, but he didn’t. She equated Nye with him and she hated Nye.

She ignored Zulan’s initial comment, instead waiting for everyone to speak. She nodded to Renee's point, stepping forward to gain everyone’s attention. “Yeah, all nobles hate Vincent.” She laughed, “It’s practically the only thing everyone can agree on.” With a wave toward the tribesman, “Even I hate him and I’ve only been to a council meeting once. I’m not fancy enough for them to send me again.” She’d fallen asleep. To her knowledge, no one else noticed, but she still remembered that punishment. “But you’re right Zulan, I don’t know the ins and outs of Nye.”

“What I do know is Xysma. And Nye’s relation to that. We want Nye out of Xysma. We know Centurions kill some of our workers. We can’t fight Nye. But we try to restrict their access to the island. It doesn’t always work. They have immunity, but we can run interference. Give them tours, ask for their help with security. Hell, I’d be sent down to follow them around when I was a kid. We don’t just let our people get raped and murdered.

I know those in charge. They’re my family. We’re strict sure: everyone has to meet their quotas daily, but we aren’t evil.” She looked down, a frown coming over her face, “Something Rini’s forgotten it seems.”

She looked back up to their faces, “The people are here because of crimes. There are people who think they should be killed. We let them make homes and have families here. Kids can be kids. They start working at 15, just when I did.”

Letting out a breath that breezed through the room, she stepped back, “I may be here as a guide, but I will follow whichever you choose.” She would warn her family if they decide to, but she’d accept it. Raising her hands, she breathed in, then spread her arms wide. A popping sound echoed in every ear as the pressured changed. “There, no one can hear you now.”

Jet ManofManyRoles EldridSmith rozukitsune

 

[Jet]

​

The world was deafened by the ringing sounds in her ears, and the street spun with flashing colors and white stars swimming through her vision; a haze of movement and double images as she neared unconsciousness. There was a barrage of elements and some kind of weapon was fired during the exchange, but Mischa couldn't make sense of what happened. Her body listed sideways as the man freed her from his grasp, and she dully crashed upon the dry sandy ground. There was a dusty plume when she breathed into the dirt, her hair flipped up and dust covered her reddened face, and slowly, with three ragged wheezing breaths, the world came back into focus.

The pieces came together and when she turned around, she finally understood what happened. The archer had been sliced across the hand by a water blade. His blood misted her face. His weapon lay beside Rat in the clutches of his grappling hook, and Yua had encased the man's feet in stone.

Not to be outdone by her magically inclined companions, Mischa cast a spell called knee him in the stomach, and dropped him like a potato bag. It was only fair and she was being nice if anything. Her first instinct had been to aim even lower, so honestly it was gregarious.

Mischa swayed over him before stumbling to her companions. Her feet crossed over each other like a drunken runway model, barely balancing until she dropped to a knee.

"Thanks," she managed after a long breath. Her brain sputtered to life and she felt the buried emotions hidden underneath. Though mainly it was fear. Her hands shook and she clasped one hand with the other, crushing her fingers until they hurt. Her mouth curled into a smile as she angrily chuckled to herself — how fucking useless had she been? How fucking pointless had been her distraction? How careless and stupid had she been?

They were all questions for later when she was alone. It was one thing to be a damned burden on everyone else, and another to whine like a bitch about it. They'd done well and that's what demanded her attention, not self pity like at the arena.

"Just really glad," Mischa said, standing on her shaky legs. "I didn't fight you's in the first round."

She grinned with round cheeks and firmly closed eyes, one of those wholesome smiles like she won the lottery, but in truth she was angry. Their attacks had been perfect, synergized teamwork to defeat a superior enemy. The kind of intelligent move that she was supposed to do, but her contribution had been stupid, poorly thought and opportunistic, and now her stomach was tenderized meat. In a way she was jealous of them.

Their attacks replayed like a scene from an action movie, with Leon shooting out his water blade like an expert. The archer tried to block with his stone spear, but he cut himself in the process. Then Rat grappled it away with a precise shot from his grappling hook, and Yua used the distraction to keep him in place. It was perfect, but Mischa had done less than nothing.

Her smile faded and she sheepishly looked between them, "You really saved my ass, I owe you one, seriously I can't believe—"

The next words were going to be, I was dumb enough to get captured, but she paused and smiled again.

"Can't believe how awesome that was! Since when could you shoot one of those?" She clasped Leon around his elbow, stepping closer and looking up at him. "I had a feeling you were playing modest."

Her eyes drifted to Rat and his grappling hook, and she drifted towards him too, kneeling down and examining the device. "Next time grapple him in the stones," she said with a laughing breath. "But I owe you one for saving me... always."

With the same happiness she wrapped Yua in a warm hug. She grimaced as her stomach touched the smaller girl, but if her ribs weren't broken into a million little pieces, a hug wasn't tipping the scales either. It was worth it to show her gratitude. "I don't even know you, and you still saved my ass. If you ever need any fixes for that boat of yours, we'll give you a—"

The next word hung in her throat. Yua's boat was too bloody expensive for free repairs. Instead she went with a much simpler, "Lifetlme pass for free appraisals."

Goliath Emphoa ManofManyRoles





 

 

[Jet]

​

Adrian crawled through the cave on his forearms. The walls threatened to crush him into a ball, so close they were on both sides. They were rough and scraped him as he inched forwards piece by piece, the cave barely tall enough for him to breath. He couldn't see around the coming bend in the tunnel, hooking to the left like a snake had carved it from stone. He exhaled until his body was flatter than before, just enough to lean up onto his side. He reached out to the turn in the tunnel, pulling himself forwards and lurching around the bend.

He narrowed his eyes in the near darkness of the passage, only illuminated by a small fire hovering in the air. The tunnel opened to a massive cavern with a ceiling too high to see. He pushed himself out with his arms tucked to his side. His tunic was shredded as he emerged into the vast cavern, blood running from small cuts on his chest.

He pointed out his palm and a thousand embers burst forwards. Fireflies in the night. They covered the walls like stars dotting the sky. They hung in the air illuminating every inch of the cavern.

He slowly approach the creation at the center of the cavern. He traced his fingers over the worn metal. The subtle carvings across its hull. His mouth parted and his eyes danced across the creation, breathless and confused, amazed by the impossible made real.

His eyes opened and he was back in the present. The tunnel was exactly like the creation from his memory, the same stainless steel decorated with fine lines. The same unexplained origin from an era long forgotten, hidden away by the rulers who came after — better to conceal what they couldn't replace.

But in the end, what did he know? He was just matchstick with a pair of swords. He wasn't particularly interesting and neither were the rest of them. They were no better or worse than most people, other than the verbal copulation of Goliath and Nyaal. It was distasteful to say the least. If Nyaal wanted company he should've asked for it like a man. There was no point in playing word games.

Adrian did rouse when bandages were mentioned. Though he didn't like Marigold for the obvious ten-thousand reasons, he resisted the temptation to let him suffer.

"Gauze."

He tossed his satchel like a football.

"Nectar of the Yellowflower, bandage pins and clotting dust. Very own field hospital."

He laid back and grunted in disapproval. The floor was less satisfying without his pillow. His precious sleep would have to wait until they were done patching Marigold, as if he needed any more reasons to hate the man.

"Thankyou," Marigold said. His theatrical voice was replaced by true, humble words that conveyed his gratitude. He graciously nodded at Vixie, Faraji and Adrian for helping him out.

"I know you must all hate me," he said. "It's hard not to hate the useless sod who may have killed you... even I hate myself in this moment. Which is saying something. I generally love myself quite a bit."

"But you must believe me, I had no intention to mislead you. Why would I lie when this would be the result!" He perked up and looked around like a meerkat, gesturing down the long passageway. "Trapped in a maze with no way out? Why would I voluntarily put myself in this position?"

"You forgot the way," Adrian said. "Rolled the dice on your memory, dice fell off the table."

"Eidetic memory," Marigold chimed. "How else would I remember so many plays? I never forget what I've seen once."

"Sure," Adrian hummed out the word. There was no such thing as perfect memory, only people too proud to admit their mistakes. He was trapped because Marigold had been arrogant, which wasn't intentional at least.

Not that it would matter if dehydration killed them.

He stared at the same bland spot on the ceiling, feeling a low rumble beneath his head. He paused his breathing and pressed his ear against the floor, a gentle sound of machinery reverberated through the metal. Like there were giant gears turning far beneath him. It seemed important but how was it important, he wondered to himself. He prayed it was a clue to help them escape the maze.

"So, tell me something interesting?" Marigold asked them. "I've regailed you with my stories for long enough, I say it's time you people return my favor!"

He retreived a small notebook from his pocket. There was a fountain pen clipped to the side. He always needed inspiration for new characters, and what better way than recording what they said.

Lost Echo Arcanist Goliath Anne Boolean

 

[ZackStop]

​

Taking a well earned rest sat on their turtle familiar, Spivey held their sleek, advanced piece of equipment used for killing on their lap. They tapped their fingers on the butt of it while the woman continued to have her speech, answering the four of them with questions they had some more vague than others. The trigger-happy mercenary just nodding their head waiting for it to be over. She was long winded and rather hung up on their primitive tribe drama, or whatever these tree climbers would call it.
Once she was done, there was a short silence from behind the mask. Spivey looked back and forth between the ladies and kid.

"Yep. This bitch is high." Getting back on their feet after a short while resting, the leatherback could let out a low groan like a sigh of relief. "Now for the record, I'm not being impatient, I'm reasonably irritable from todays events. I dropped my patience half way through that jungle somewhere. Just to be clear. Now..."

Spivey quickly turned to the others with an unsteady wobble. "...dunno what she's been huffing, but this might be salvageable if they know where Old Umberg is. If we can actually get there before the heat gets us." Spivey pulled at their collar. "Whew, then again that might just be me."

But before the others could respond, Spivey with a quick turned again to the old woman. "Say you got any liquor around here? I sleep better drunk and my BAC is on a steady decline. Fuck it I say we party!" Spivey promptly threw a punch into Huracan's face shortly after exclaiming.

Jet Arcanist Lost Echo

 

[Goliath]

Goliath didn’t have any guilt as he stepped inside of the tent. Who the hell cared about fair?? He had been the only one in their group who had adequately packed supplies, his hiking backpack heavy and full, while the others did who knew what to prepare before this mission started.

That was their fault and their fault alone.

Maybe they’d learn something from the experience? But then again most of his group, minus Adrian who clearly just enjoyed sleeping outside like a weirdo, would go back to their normal, safe lives where it wouldn’t even matter.

Goliath didn’t necessarily trust Nyall not to touch his backpack. He didn’t trust anyone or the ‘of course’ that passed his lips. He just hoped the other understood that he would kill him without hesitation for crossing that line and valued his life more than any curiosities.

“You’re right about that. Survival is king,” he agreed, staring at the smaller male beside him. Wondering how bad it had been for him but not wanting to think about the shitty cards he had been dealt himself.

“You seem to have enough wealth and status now, though. So your management team must have known what they were doing,” he chuckled, running the high-quality fabric of Nyall’s shirt between his fingers.

Goliath noticed the mischievous look as the cat boy rolled to face him, letting go. “Me?? Begging for what exactly? — Are you still drunk?” A smirk rose on his face once more. Nyall really loved to test him it seemed.

He pushed him back over so he was once again looking up at the tent and swung his leg over in one fluid, well-experienced movement. His body now hovering overtop Nyall while he looked for even a hint of hesitation on his face.

It would be nice to have something to get his mind off the nightmares. The witch and her cabin. But Goliath would never force himself on someone. He had a lot of flaws, but he wasn’t that kind of guy.

“You can say no.” He leaned down so his warm breath was against his ear. “But I think it would be more fun to see if you can pay for your spot here, Firefly,” Goliath whispered before his lips firmly pressed against his neck. His large hand beginning to slide below Nyall’s shirt.

Anne Boolean (Nyall)

 

[Goliath]

Elriel’s eyes were shut, his face peaceful as he accepted his fate with Adamaris in his arms. His hands and feet frozen tightly to the wood of the boat as the veins in his forearms flexed below the fur coat.

“I will find you in every life .. as I did this time,” he whispered in the shorter’s ear.

The sounds that followed were almost deafening, the ship threatening to pull apart any second. The massive wave forcing the boat into such a steep angle it shouldn’t even be possible. Like they were virtually straight up and down.

And then — the sudden slam of the boat. It knocked the air from his lungs as he saw the light shining through his eyelids. Was this what people were talking about when describing death??

But as he opened them, he was met with blue skies and Elriel couldn’t help but laugh.

He quickly turned to Ada. “How are you?? Are you okay??” The noble asked looking him up and down for any injuries.

Elriel waited for a response and then focused on the rest of the group. No one had fallen overboard, thankfully.

But his face soon twisted. The prayers had nothing to do with it. It was the real, breathing people here who deserved the credit.

“Calling it devine intervention is insensitive to our boat captain. Talk about talent,” he nodded to Darius who was still at the wheel. Beyond impressed.

Elriel knew nothing about the sea monster, unable to see it earlier in the storm, but his mouth dropped as the mast fell into the water from Zak hitting it. “Okay. Maybe you caused the storm with your awful luck??” He scoffed.

Elriel suddenly took a large step back as the beast surfaced by the mast, covering his ears from the sudden loud sound. The .. teeth. “Magnus .. didn’t say anything about a killer whale.”

But .. it wasn’t attacking them. So his purple eyes took in the many scars, his expression one of genuine sadness as he thought about what people had done to it over the years. For a creature to have gotten this big .. it must have lived a long time.

Elriel finally looked into its eyes and held up his hands. “Don’t attack it! Let’s just .. see what it wants. I read in a book that legendary animals are often highly intelligent creatures.”

Mentioned:
Emphoa (Ada) , Jet (Zak/Darius)
Group:
ManofManyRoles (Mavior), EldridSmith (Ivan)

 

[ManofManyRoles]

Charlie Redding
Charlie inclined her head towards Zulan, a simple and sharp motion, punctuated with a shit-eating grin. "Oi, look at that wouldja? Ye can say what you mean without throwin' in fifty other fuckin' things in between. Shit, I'd have lost that bet today." Despite her general attitude being what it was, she was glad he kept it straight to the point this time. She could follow along with how he spoke if she really wanted to, but so far Zulan hadn't given her too much reason to want to do anything other than knock his teeth out today. Oh well, she was sure someone would sign up for that experience soon enough today.

The platinum blonde looked over to Renee, her gaze boring into her as she waited for her to offer her two cents. She'd been quiet since they arrived, really quiet. But out of anyone here, she knew the Nye game of cat and mouse better than anyone...and Charlie would be an idiot to ignore her knowledge on the matter. And while Charlie was many things, an idiot she was not. A thoughtful hum escaped her, fingers gently rapping on the table in front of her....a quiet noise that quickly became much louder as Gailene had the courtesy to give them silence, both in and out, for a private discussion. A quick glance towards her out of the corner of her eye, and then back to Renee. "I see. Anythin' you care to fancy tellin' us about this Vinecnt fella, for us outta towners? I've 'eard a thing or two, here and there. Even if I hadn't though, I wouldn't like em...I got a good sense for people, and meetin' Vincent let me know he could use some character growth. Like his legs bein' snapped...'n it sounds like a lotta Nye would appreciate that. Which means Vincent's going to be prepared for damn near anythin' that could break his ol' arthritic bones, eh? I don't doubt they're prepped 'ere...but sounds like we got a regular expert on our hands. So...let's say Vincent does die. What would Nye look like the-"
Charlie stopped as Gailene started to speak. And the more she talked, the more Charlie's jaw started to set, and clench. An astute eye might notice the vein in her temple start to pop into a pronounced position, and with Renee seated so close to her it'd be impossible for her to miss it. Slowly, the Craggie turned her head to look towards Gailene...with the same slow motion one might be able to envision the sound of a creaking and rusted metal gate being swung open. "Oi, wait a fuckin' tick, Chickadee. Got a question for ye, if I may. Several, actually. Gonna 'ave to forgive me, comes with my job, I'm such a curious gal. They're here on crimes, but they get to have families? The children are sent to work when they turn 15, eh?... Who's crimes, lass? Did wee lil' timmy shank his crib mate? Have his lolly nabbed and had to get even? Or is it the parents? Theirs? Their great uncle Ruckus? How long's Xysma been runnin' this sweatshop?"
It was almost discerning, how Charlie spoke. The vein in her temple visible as could be...but her voice, it hadn't changed in tone or inflection. She spoke in the same cadence and way as she had since she'd arrived. No...there was something new there, just in the depths of it. An iciness, an uncomfortable coolness lying low beneath that ever flickering fire in her tone. She folded her hands across her chest, and the throbbing vein in her temple slowly dissipated. "Y'know, you'd love some of Macragge far as I can tell. Aye, we got whole slave pits, y'know. I didn't grow up near one, nah. But I knew a lass from the market, yeah? She was a sweet gal, helped her ma run a well. Well, her pop had a nasty habit o' gamblin', terrible addiction really. And he couldn't pay his debts. So these blokes grab em' one night and pop em over the head with a brick. A good dozen times, from what I heard. But that didn't pay collateral, naw. So, this gal is up and nabbed, along with her ma, by these blokes. Last I heard o' that story, her mum and her were slavin' away in some quarry. So I do gotta ask. Who's crimes are they servin' time for? Their own? Their families? Some pissant across the street that they knew in school? Folks like to call Macragge a chaos wasteland, 'n think themselves a whole lot more civilized. So, surely, there's a civilized rule o' law on this one?"

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