Fantasy The Great Games of Nye

[ManofManyRoles]

Yua Smith
ユア・スミス

Yua paused, mental gears grinding to a halt. Alright, so she wasn't weird which was a relief, but how was her arm weird? As far as she knew, it was the most advanced model that her parents and R&D had managed to develop so far...what was weird about it? Was it the gold trim? It was the gold trim wasn't it? Fortunately, Tawny was willing to elaborate on what he had meant. "There's...it could be better?" The thought hadn't occured to her, not much at least. An arm was an arm to her at this point in her life, as long as it served its purpose, who was she to complain? But...she wouldn't mind if it served its purpose better than it already did, she supposed? Tawny seemed rather apt to rip Yua from her own thoughts though as his arm opened up! Yua's eyes went as wide as saucers, as everything she ever knew in life suddenly just went out the second story window. "That's amazing," she breathed out in a single breath. Well if she'd been on the fence, Tawny won her over rather quickly! "Uhm...one second. I have to take it off first, I'd guess. Will it...still look the same?" She reached over towards her top as she undid the first two buttons near her collarbone at the top of the shirt and wormed her way into her shirt. A tilt of her neck followed by a click...click...click! A hand reached over to grab at the golden metal twin and tug on it. Whatever she'd done had freed the limb without issue as suddenly Yua held her prosthesis up by the hand, her shirt sleeve hanging limp and empty now. To anyone it may have been an odd sight, but she felt like Tawny wouldn't be too judgmental at this point, and for her this was a normal enough facet of her life.

There was a wry little smile from Felix, the slightest upturn of his lips at Isaac's exclamation of a true believer. "I've had my fair share of experiences in my life, Mr. Isaac. The world is quite a strange place, and I could tell stories of my own on such matters. I believe that the world is strange, and to hear further strangeness simply affirms such a belief. It is the stubborn and closed mind that learns nothing, after all. Though to hear the west may have housed such predecessors...you have me fascinated, truly. Perhaps a trade of stories then, at one point? I will take any information that may better serve Miss Smith, after all. I fear once the day truly settles in on her and the events of it begin to weigh on her mind, I will have to have something of substance to offer as solace."

​

Jet

 

[Jet]

​

"Finally! I was over here growin a beard waiting for help!" Tessia smiled like there was nothing to worry about, but there was no hiding her anemia. No hiding her wound nor the darkness around her eyes. Her gut screamed in pain but would she collapse because of it? Would she drop to her knees screaming like a bitch?

Yeah probably.

Tessia wanted to lay down and sleep for the next seventy hours, but if she succumbed than who would survive? Who would make it home to sing of her amazing deeds? Tessia needed to look strong now more than ever, otherwise her team would collapse.

"So... you want me to ride your summon? Like a bull in a dive bar? That's funny but I'll be fine for now." Tessia snickered before smacking her wound to prove a point. The pain was immense and her smile froze like she was a statue. Her eyes twitched and she clenched her teeth like a steel vice, and it took everything she had not to scream. "The pain—

"You know—

"Weakness leaving the body." Tessia released a deeply held breath, pushing from the tree as Euclair descended from above, spinning a weapon set ablaze with magic. It was awesome even if pointless in the end; like an acrobat doing flips on the street. "Well that was bloody dramatic of you," Tessia said. "I'm impressed! Can make a centurion out of you yet!"

"But not a medic cause I'm fine see?" She considered smacking her wound a second time to prove a point, but she would probably kill herself in the process. Instead she sighed with resignation and said, "But you already fucked up your skirt."

"So go on, tie me off, but don't even think about cauterizing my stomach! I'd rather die then walk around with a burn scar!" She raised her arms to give Euclair access to the wound. "Once you're done we should head to the ship. I'd bet everyone's goin there, cause it's the only common point we got."

Her eyes narrowed as she gazed into the distance, using her hand like a visor. There weren't any landmarks or cities she could see, but the ship was smoldering in the distance. There was a thin line of smoke swirling into the atmosphere, like a beacon calling to the group. "The navigator had a ton of maps we could use. We're sorted if we find em in the wreck."

EldridSmith Monbon

 

[Arcanist]

Faraji Aguta

Mentions: Goliath Jet

Creepy old woman didn’t cut it. She was far worse than that, and they all knew it. He heard the hum of electricity beside him, and Faraji felt the cold nip at his fingertips. He did not want to be here as much Goliath or Adrian didn’t, but he had to be prepared like they did. There was no running now, he realised, as he followed Goliath down the hallway, ignoring more of the limbs that hung above them.

Adrian mentioned something in the field. “Definitely no turning around now,” Faraji murmured. What the fuck were they being forced into?

If it hadn’t been confirmed before with all the blood carvings and symbols and grotesque dismemberments floating around, the altar for certain claimed home to the heart of this cult. A painting of a woman, the apparent Queen of Bones, almost floating if the rope with the hair hadn’t been so obvious.

Faraji felt something crawl over his chest, and he cringed and immediately went to swat whatever it was off, blanching when he realised it was that woman’s fingers. He wasn’t sure if he preferred an insect or her to be all over him like that. Her words did not go over his head though – the denizens of the Undercity were desperate. So desperate, that they would come here, give up…parts of themselves, just for food, something, anything.

Faraji felt that burning, acrid taste well up in his throat. He forced his gaze away from the altar, the knife and pliers still a bright image in his mind, even if he stared at some black spot in the room to ignore it.

Faraji flinched at the touch and blanched at the mention of his son. “How…?” He wanted to demand how they knew about Casimir, but was he so naïve to think that these people wouldn’t? Not with the power they seemed to wield as easily as that altar knife in the Undercity. He couldn’t speak as the hag continued, taunting Adrian, revealing Goliath to be clueless as to his belonging in this world, and just briefly, he wondered why that was.

“We don’t want trouble,” Faraji managed to push the words past the sour taste in his mouth, “we’re just looking for some information, and if you help us, we’ll happy get out of your hair! Let you get on with, uh…whatever it was you were doing.” He could not manage the usual jovial tone in his voice. He shifted uneasily, glancing over his shoulder, perhaps wondering if he could risk escape. You couldn’t negotiate with crazy.

 

[Arcanist]

Brynwyr Protheroe

Mentions: Lost Echo ZackStop

​

Brynwyr’s expression was coloured a reddened fury at Spivey’s comments. The very nerve of the man to speak to her like that, when an hour ago he couldn’t even string a sentence together! It would have been easy to grab him and hold him down into that water, but she assured she was better than that, and she would be better than that for Rhys and his state. She chose not to react further to Spivey’s brusque, but to answer his question.

“Rhys. He’s…” Family? Technically. “With me. He came with me from Albion to the Games.” He was more than just a tagalong, but she threw up the shield to deflect any more personal questions. It was enough for Spivey to know.

Her care towards Rhys made it obvious he was much more than a young man part of her retinue, but he did not like the pause the masked man gave.

Rhys, meanwhile, was conscious enough, though squinted and watched Esther as she spoke to him about the possibilities of pneumonia – unless she helped him. That came with risks, what she was proposing, but pneumonia was just a slower march to death. He nodded, though, Brynwyr was quick to speak.

“Are you sure, Rhys?” She was not so sure of the method herself, a risky procedure, but Esther was always going to make that clear. She didn’t like Rhys’s odds with pneumonia either.

“Yes,” Rhys answered, voice small and hoarse, and nodded again at Esther. “Better to do this now while we have that peace.” They didn’t know what was waiting for them in this jungle, and with the crash of the ship and the disturbance of its guests, the beastly denizens wouldn’t take well to their arrival.

Brynwyr, even if hesitant, nodded at Esther to give her some space. Rhys would always be prioritised. She did back off to the water, looking down to see where it would lead, if they were to stick to it. She looked back at Spivey again, and though she wished to ignore the drawl of his voice behind that mask, she listened. Wandering off into the forest would do no good, especially with whatever beast had felled their ship and almost killed them all.

“Perhaps there’s merit in regrouping at the ship then, even if we don’t find all the survivors,” she wondered how anyone could survive falling from the height they did, or avoiding getting pierced by that leviathan, behemoth, whatever it was. “I think sticking by the water as we travel to it is our best option. I don’t fancy my chances with that monster roaming around in the trees, or anything else in that jungle for that matter.”

 

[Goliath]

Leon heard Rat encourage him to come with them, nodding slowly while his head continued to pound. He found himself silently wishing he had a sprig or two of feverfew to chew on to lessen the pain. One of the natural medicines his family liked to use. Not to mention that the cute small white flowers would be better to look at than this dessert landscape.

Regardless. Last night had been a good time, and it was worth the annoying side effects, even if the alcohol had made him get ‘all in his feelings’ as some back home liked to say. Or maybe it was because he was missing..no it was better not to let his mind go there. It still hurt too bad to remember, but how much time would have to pass before he could think of her again?

Truthfully, there was no where better for him to go than with Mischa and Rat. He definitely wasn’t strong enough to wander around an abandoned base by himself when assassins or enemy’s — or even Zombies..fuck he needed to get his head on straight. The sentiment was the some regardless. Leon shouldn’t be alone in this already dangerous situation, hurrying over to catch up as he yelled, “Coming!”

Leo stood towards the back, taking in the building constructed a bit like a tin can, wondering how anyone could live here. The windows wouldn’t even open..not that anyone would want to with the dusty air outside. The redhead focused as Mischa asked the universe for there not to be dead bodies inside, wondering where she was during the attack. What she saw. But he knew better than to ask, instead listening as the heavy metal door squeaked on its hinges.

He followed, the inside significantly better than the outside. Almost homely. Leon chucked at Rat’s joke about drinking here while the pool ball the other had rolled hit with the distinguishable clack. He also looked to Misha as she talked about missing being better than dead, “I don’t disagree careful is good. — But Mischa is right, missing things can be found,” he hummed, peaking his head into the first room, which was barebones, nothing notable at all.

“I’m glad I’m not the only one feeling like death today,” he agreed with Mischa about his own hangover as he stepped back into the hallway, seeing the pair continue advancing to where he was standing while Rat again mentioned not splitting up. Slightly curious why they had paused, but let it go. “Yeah, I’m not sure about you guys, but I’m not much of a combatant. So .. power in numbers?” He returned the laugh.

Combing through the barracks in search of Kades room didn’t sound the most fun, but there were worse things, like scooping out the barn. So he wouldn’t complain. “Yeah,” Leon smiled before it faded slightly. If the group was hiding, centurions of all people, they were worse off than sitting ducks in the middle of an open lake on a clear day. “Maybe. Or they could have fled from something? — Which doesn’t sound much better now that I’ve said it.” He sighed.

When they stepped into the next room from the hallway, Leo tilted his head in confusion. “Huh — the bed is made in this one, too. If they were running or escaping, wouldn’t they be a little more .. disheveled or something?” He mused curiously, walking over to the night stand and picking up a framed picture. It was of a guy, who he assumed wasn’t much older than them, wearing his uniform after going through the Nye Warrior Academy. Two smiling parents and a younger sibling were standing at his sides.

Leon put it down as carefully as he picked it up. “I think these rooms near the front are for the support staff,” he spoke as he looked at the pair again. “If I was Kade, if I was strong, I would probably pick the biggest room. Which, maybe that’s selfish.” He paused, “But I would assume it would be the last one of the hallway because it would have the most privacy from the living quarters?”

Jet (Mischa) Emphoa (Rat)

 

[Goliath]

Elriel realized just how selfish he’d been. Ada had also lost someone at the games while he worried only about himself!? How could he not have asked then? Or even after? He shut his eyes tightly, shaking his head before opening them again when he heard Magnus drink two big mugs of beer for the great men in their lives that they’d lost too soon. Darius probably lost people important to him too, so many centurions had died, looking over at him with a sad smile. Their stone-cold guide didn’t seem to be the type to talk about such things.

He nodded at the warning once again coming from the lord. Cold. Madness. Hunger. With no one coming to rescue them. Assuming they were words of experience, not empty threats. It would be different than the life Elriel had lived until now, a warm ocean town with food provided every day. But it had to be done. Staying hopeful that his control of ice and his snow leopard familiar would come-in-handy for their mission.

And then his question was answered. ‘Hvít Eyomörk,' the noble repeated to himself. Elriel stood with his hands to his sides as they were commanded to the 'edge of the world.' A feeling of pride rose in his chest. No, it might not be his tradition or heritage, but he knew it was a great honor to go on the quest laid out in front of them. And that was enough. He listened to the instructions with no questions. That was the most clear Magnus had been since they’d arrived in the long hall.

Elriel turned as the door was opened, the sudden cold filling the room. He took a step forward to follow to the ship, which, assuming from the craftsmanship of this building, would be amazing. Until Darius talked about the airship and it being state of the art, which made him blink. Mavior’s small ship was anything but. Regardless, they were told it would be destroyed. “Understood,” he nodded, an umbrella made of fine, clear ice forming in his hand to block the rain as they stepped out onto the dark, night air.

Elriel turned to Ada. “Here we go, my friend. When we return, we will have our crystals coupled with an answer to your question of why Edmund chose you. We will prove Magnus and his opinion of us wrong and have a drink with him at that very table. Our story is not near over yet.” He spoke his voice in a whisper. Resolved to protect the other regardless of the cost that may come. “I hope the rest of our group has gotten the rest of the supplies we will need.”

Elriel spoke to Darius for what seemed to be the first time, the large man in front of them leading the path. “Is this the most .. unique mission you have ever been assigned?” He asked curiously. If they were going to be on a team together, it might not hurt to try to get to know him a little, right?

Emphoa (Adamaris) Jet (Darius)

 

[Jet]

​

Johan nodded in agreement with Ren. His plan was good and as he pointed out, they could swarm her if things went bad. "Sounds like a plan," he said with a little smile, happy they weren't keeping her around. There were few things less pleasant than her presence.

"I'm glad we're on the same page. If I had to choose between losing my toes and being around that woman, I'd get the hacksaw myself." He faced Narzas as she took medical equipment from her pack, wrapping his arm in white gauze. He thought of protesting because from where he stood, in his expert medical opinion, he was doing just fine! His cuts were no problem and all he really needed, more than medical assistance of any kind, was a good bottle of rum for the pain.

But he knew she wouldn't take no for an answer, even if she needed to handcuff him to a chair. "Seems I owe you another one," he said with a faint smile. "At this rate you'll send debt collectors after me."

He winced as she finished the final touches of her treatment. The pain wasn't immense but something about those cuts. The thin type from a very sharp blade. They hurt like big papercuts. "I just had to use my sharpest one eh?"

"On the bright side, at least there's a way to stop her power." He looked at the centurion and immediately felt tension. How she could abuse the badge within her hand. Her order was extremely powerful and had no real masters. Nobody to control or reign them in. They were the shadow beneath the floating bastion of Nye, unseen and unstoppable.

"I'm not surprised you're with them. They love dubious people who think morals are a bad suggestion. I bet you'll be running the place in two years." He walked past her to a closed wooden door. There was a nasty smell coming from behind it.

"I'm guessing this is the one," he said, opening the door as noxious air washed over him. His nose crinkled and his eyes watered at the stench, but he'd been around enough death. He breathed through his mouth and stepped inside the ornate office, noting the gaudy decorations on every surface. The many awards for business excellence hanging from the walls. The scotch and cigars covering the desk. It was a damn cliche. Johan was only surprised that the executive who worked there, now laying in a pool of his own blood, didn't have a swirly mustache and monocle.

"Looks more gruesome than the rest, like the killer took his time with this one." He kneeled beside the pale stinking corpse. It was covered with wounds like he'd been tortured for hours upon hours; a slow death by a thousand cuts.

"What the hell?" His eyes snapped to the man's mouth. There was a paper between his lips. "What have we here?"

He snatched the paper and pulled it from the corpse, revealing a business card with simple black letters—

Procurement Specialist, 16 Kolasis Lane, 035-691-0​

He read the words until they were burned in his brain, before looking back at the rest of his group. "Finally got ourselves a lead." He flashed the card with a proud little smirk, hoping it would break the case wide open.

rozukitsune ZackStop Lost Echo Huntertabbysandshark3

 

[EldridSmith]

Ivan now covered in his winter proofed mammoth fur, the rain didn't bother him as it only wicked off the outer layers of his fur and the inner layers remained warm and dry. Mav had already taken to helping keep Zak dry so Ivan just kept following the merchant with the others. "I would be disappointed if someone shirked away from the task at hand, considering our final destination has greater implications. Though an angry centurion hunting us down certainly is a good motivator to stay on task." Ivan responded to Mav's comment. As for the crystals, Ivan was unaware of the significance they held and shrugged in response.

"Only ten years?" He inquired with a raised eyebrow as he split away from Asja who moved to play in the snow outside. "My position took ten years to qualify for the lowest ranks, and another fourteen years to get where I am now. Forgive me for my pride but I am no boy. Daily meditation, physical training, and years hunting down criminals, monsters and trying to fix the rotten core of my country from the inside. I know responsibility as every day I carry the lives and well being of many in my country on my back whether they be rebel or loyalist." He remarked as his temper flared ever so slightly as he brought a snippet of past to light to combat her assumption.

"A sailor I may not be, but I am still a warrior, and a Templar of my order. I will complete my mission or die trying for those who I protect. I request you do not challenge my mettle, as for the right, I will fight for it if I must." He remarked with iron will and unmovable determination. He prayed that she would understand their or his plight, and that his pride would not be his downfall in this interaction. "I do not see you or your people as greedy, as I understand the desire to protect that which is so vital for many, but do try and understand that most of us have things to protect and these crystals are vital to do so." He said in a calmer voice, as he used his understanding to try and understand before being understood. Hopefully his testimony and remarks would help balance Zak's responses.

ManofManyRoles Jet

 

[EldridSmith]

"Weakness leaving the body, hm?" Baryn remarked with a raised eyebrow, skeptical of her reactions. "If that's the case you should have no problem riding Khan to find first a-" He remarked before he heard something whipping through the trees and moved to the side just in time to see an iron weight shoot past him as Euclaire's weapon, though cutting off the end of his sentence. "Think before you act." He growled at her before cursing in his native tongue. He wasn't a fighter but thankfully her reckless abandon and fire were enough to give him time to react. He let Euclaire talk to Tess as he helped Khan get into position next to Tess to make for an easier transfer. "Patching her up is no small task considering my medical expertise is lacking, all I can think of is closing the wound with your fire as a stopgap measure, it'll stop the bleeding and kill any germs... but it'll hurt like crazy. Though seeing as pain is weakness leaving the body, you'll be fine." He remarked looking at Tessia having had a wound in his freedom fighting days and having experienced it himself.

Did he normally push buttons to illicit reactions? No. Why was he doing it? To get her to perhaps realize she human too, regardless he had reason for it considering hubris was the downfall of many freedom fighter squads as "good always prevails" which was a load of bullshit unfortunately. Though she was against the cauterizing of the wound. "You do realize we're trying to survive here right? If you turn down proper first aid you may not have a chance to show off your body again. Most people think scars are cool anyways." He remarked remembering how popular one certain comic of a lewd type was popular in the freedom fighters which featured a scarred female. Regardless her health was her problem... except it wasn't as it would slow them down.

"If you get the wound cauterized now you can also rest between myself and Euclaire as we find the others, considering the ship is likely being preyed upon by countless predators and scavengers right now it's a poor idea." He remarks with a frown, finding the rest of the group would be no easy task in the dark undersides of the forest. "If we go to the ship I would at least give it some time for the threats to eat the dead crew and move on. Also doesn't Nye have fancy procedures to remove scars? I know there were some in Zuanshi but they were expensive as hell, though you're a centurion poster girl so you'd get it on the country's dime no doubt. Also the scar on the outside would look the same as a normal scar, it's only the inside that would have burn scars." He remarked, she wasn't in good shape and he couldn't imagine the trouble having Nye's poster girl die in his care would lead to. He was really hoping she would see reason and accept treatment so they could savely move her.
Monbon Jet

 

[EldridSmith]

Zulan watched as Gailene lectured Kilderkin then agreed that dirty was a good idea as she tried helping the others. In the meantime the madman riled up the crowd further into their blood frenzy. Unfortunately that crowd then happened upon their group. Kwame thankfully was going to avoid violence and erected an earthen shield to cover their escape as the mad hunter screamed at his hounds. Charlie was keen on making a layer of ice to slow their persuers or cause them some minor damage. The group got separated as Kwame pulled Kilderkin and Evaline into an alley before the building collapsed behin them while Gailene got the rest of the group into a different alley where they burst into a man's room. Their guide pleaded for help and the man begrudgingly gave it, most of which being clothes for Renn and ashes to coat themselves with. Zulan didn't even need a prompting and quickly covered himself in ashes as well as soot as he burned air around his body to blacken parts giving a convincing miz of black and white ash for a dirty grey that made his crab's pestilant looking hair even more convincing. He thorougly looked like a local wretch or beggar.

Charlie was still amped up and looked ready for a fight. Though she seemed keen on jumping rooftops still. "The roofs are too blatant, aside forget not your promise to Renne. Not to underestimate our songbird but I don't think she has the stamina for sprinting all the way across this place." He remarks as he looks at a mildly winded Renn. "No I think more rags for disguising us and taking back alleys is safer. Aside they were too far to get a good look at us, with enough adjustments we will be fine." Zulan was used to the heat especially considering both his element was fire, familiar's heat resistance, and being from Africa. "I have a spare cloak in my pack that's breezy and has pockets inside if you desire to ditch the jacket, otherwise I would tear it and make it look ratty for air and a beggar's look." He remarked as he pulled it out and offered it to anyone in the group. He kept it in case his normal was torn, but in this instance it was better used by another in the group. "I've never used wraps to be quite honest, I have chitin covering my body at the moment like I normally do." He explained as he pulled away the hairs to show the shell before rapping it against himself with a clicking sound. He never felt unarmed as he was the weapon when he merged with his familiar. Though he was sill grateful for the offer and conveyed so in his tone.
Jet ManofManyRoles rozukitsune Lost Echo

 

[Anne Boolean]

Nihal grimaced at the answer Gunther gave to Vixie's question. He had heard all about places like these from his peers and was familiar with their workings, even if he had never been allowed to partake. He doubted he would anyway, being in the same mindset as Bean. If the clientele for this place needed to hide their identity, he imagined the scandal wouldn't be just because they're taking part in debauchery. It'd be similar to how things were kept extremely discreet when a particularly wealthy or prestigious figure came to his old place of work in Kartika.

The grimace only grew when he was lumped in with the bunch. He had been lucky enough to be pulled out of those depraved depths, but there was no way he would be one of the people contributing to their existence.

He eyed the mansion as they approached it. It was the type that people of Nyaall's own level of prominence would have multiple of. Without the background of what happened here, it would be frivolous to the musician, but with the extra knowledge on hand, its existence was just deplorable.

The cat boy paid no mind to the art history lesson from their guide, although the bit about "better times" lingered in his mind and made him wonder just why this Giovanni person felt that way. His eyes focused on the fence surrounding the property. The blades at the top were surely just as much for keeping secrets in as for keeping undesirables out.

He scowled a bit when they approached the massive double doors. The trim came off as gaudy and over the top to Nihal, but it was probably perfect to advertise what it was for and for who it was meant. Normally sensory overstimulation wasn't a thing for the performer, but he couldn't help but wince as the sound hit his ears and the floral scent hit his nose. The clothes the people wore were more lavish versions of what he and his back up dancers sometimes wore on stage, and the things they were engaging in were what he had been completely submerged in the last few days, and yet, in its context, he found it repulsive. He was no stranger to eyes on him while on stage, even rather salicious gazes, but these looks were more similar to those he got in Kartika. He found himself wanting to recoil under everyone's looks, but he kept a strong, if not slightly shaky posture.

They were told were to go to advance their quest but were also given free reign of what the facility had to offer. Vixie seemed uncomfortable as well, to the point of covering her eyes, so it would be best to get a move on. Nyaall took steps towards where Giovanni could be found before he was stopped by someone.

The musician blinked. He would be lying if the guy wasn't exactly his type. His brown eyes scanned his face and down his torso, and... wait... why wasn't he wearing a mask? He quickly glanced around at all the other masked patrons. Was he a worker of sorts? ... was he here... willingly?

"Um... hi..." he said, his tone somewhere between a concerned investigator and a smitten schoolgirl. "You're not..." He touched his own cheek. "... what's your name?"

Jet Lost Echo

 

[ManofManyRoles]

𝓜𝓪𝓿𝓲𝓸𝓻 '𝓜𝓪𝓿𝓮𝓻𝓲𝓬𝓴' 𝓑𝓸𝓸𝓴𝓮𝓻
It was quite the experience, for her attitude to suddenly turn quite belittling and cast doubt onto them before she'd known any of them. Though, perhaps, she didn't need to know anything about them. They were outsiders, and why would you ever trust an outsider? It was a sentiment Mav could understand. Zak and Ivan seemed a fair bit more confrontational in light of all of this, though Mav had found his attention drifting while they defended their...pride? Capabilities? Honor? He'd stopped caring about the concept of hurt feelings long ago, and was instead working his mind on the situation at hand. Careful eyes scanned the little room they found themselves in, Mavior's hands folding behind his back and clasping one another at the wrist.

"I see little use in this argument, the bluster of who has more skill and who lacks it..." It was a simple and offhanded remark, Mavior's attention drawn to the roof for no particularly good reason as he had begun to slowly put one foot in front of the other, lazily walking around the shop keep little abode to examine what wares she had aside from the seal skins. "I have no reason to doubt the dangers of which you speak. Be it by the sea, the storms, draugar, or even jotun...I have not travelled there, so I cannot say what dangers lay in that direction. Only you and your people would know that..." Mavior's aimless wandering found him back at his original position after he was satisfied examining the wares, though his gaze continued to flit this way and that before settling on Arnheid proper. "I have no reason to doubt what dangers you speak of. And you simply have every reason to lack faith in us, even the blind could see that." The partial irony of his statement aside, he continued, "With that said...we cannot leave. The crystal is our only lead in regard to finding answers. I do not know where it came from, and as far as I can tell it is a means to make one extremely powerful. Arnheid, daughter of Elgard...many of us bore witness to atrocity the likes of which I cannot properly describe. Dead by the droves in less than a minute, brought on by a single person. We simply wish to find answers...and for many of my companions, I'd imagine, get justice for the death of those they cherished...How might we be able to prove that we are worth whatever answers you might be able to offer us? Anything you may offer would be accepted, readily. But if you will not give us answers...at least let us buy the cloaks."

​

Jet EldridSmith

 

[Jet]

​

Dalton could tell there were two camps in his crew. The ones who took everything too seriously, and the ones taking a damn vacation. It was fucking ridiculous. He'd questioned the assignment since the beginning ten days ago, and this was exactly the reason why. His captain said he would make the best of whatever hand they gave him, but here he was like a moron, holding a two of spades and seven of hearts, drowning to death in stupidity. He could already tell the mission was done before it began. The stooges would fuck around and the other two, despite their serious dispositions, were still greener than spring grass.

It was pointless, and he didn't care about their immunity to the weapon. He knew ten centurions ready to sacrifice themselves for the greater good, but apparently they were too important. Better to send kids on a grown man's mission, throw a centurion with them and pray everything worked out. It was damn genius really, almost like Vincent wanted them to fail.

He could only scoff at how dumb it was.

"Don't go breakin nothin," he said to the three stooges, scowling when they entered the barracks. He expected the place to burn down any second now. "Well shit," he whispered to himself. "I ain't goin there; spend too long with the stupid and I'll catch it."

He went the opposite way without a second thought, joining the most charismatic people on his team. It was like a damn graveyard with them at the command center; a mood more depressing than a bar without booze. But that was still better than stupidity.

"Now let's get this out the way." He spat on the ground and stared past them like ghosts, remembering his last deployment in the west. "Out here—

"This is spag country out here — ain't nothing more dangerous to god fearin people." He opened the door and peered into a small control room, noting the flipped chairs and scattered papers on the floor, but there was no blood, no gore or bodies. He was surprised at how clean it was inside, like the garrison dropped their weapons without fighting. "Well shit."

"Dumb fucks surrendered." He placed his hands on his hips. "Don't never surrender to them savages; spags don't have no god. No sense of what's right and wrong. Would scalp your ass and throw you in a pot to boil."

He looked over at Bracken for a moment. The man was from the west but wasn't one of them. Not one of the beasts who killed kids for fun. Dalton could spot those savages from ten miles away. "Fuckin hate them sand pounders, but we'll find our boys—

"Yeeeep—

"We'll find em out there... bits and pieces of em anyway." He squinted at the spot Bracken had been pointing at. He missed the context but put two and two together, and it was clear someone was dragged away. "Seems someone had fight in em, load a good it did em though!" He smirked at Ilana when he was done. "Map would show where them savages held up, could canvas their towns lookin for the missins, or just start shooting."

Fred Colon ZackStop

 

[Lost Echo]

“Yeah, everything you attract wants to kill you.” Esther deadpanned, not bothering to look at the mercenary. Her focus remained on the boy, giving him some space to consider her proposal. With his nod--she ignored Brynwyr’s agreement, for she couldn’t consent for him--she encouraged the boy to sit up so that they were facing each other.

Still, the drunk had his points. The times she had been stranded, she’d been alone, with merely Dart to worry over. Their goal was to hide from the ship they escaped from, having freed whatever animal the poachers had acquired. Water was a safe bet; she’d found. Follow it and eventually, you will reach people. Villages grew from rivers. But now there were others. Regrouping would be wise. She spared a thought for the others, though she agreed--searching for them would merely get them lost as well. Speaking to both of them, she agreed. “Following the water, until we’re in line with the ship--then heading that way sounds best. I’ve never been here--civilians aren’t allowed in the Americas. I can say a serpent that size has to be supported by more than just the occasional passing ship. I’d be careful of the skies--its prey is likely a bird it mistook us for.”

“But first you, Rhys.” Turning her head to look at Spivey for a moment, before looking at Brynwyr, she spoke seriously. “Interrupting us will cause his death. This is very delicate.” She did not explain that she’d never done this before. No, it was a shaman in a village she’d washed up on who had saved her life that way. She still remembered the feeling of someone else’s magic inside of her, questing. It was beyond intimate. “You’ll have to trust me. This will feel weird, but you have to let me in. At any point, if you lose that trust, you’ll reject me. But remember you’re in control. It’s your body; all I’m doing is using my magic to reach in and vacuum out the water. But you have to let me in.”

Reaching forward, she grabbed his hands. “Close your eyes and breathe with me.” She closed her own and started to breathe slowly. She focused on the air moving with each exhale, following it up and then down as he breathed. “Deep breaths.” She whispered, not breaking the connection. Slowly, she followed the air into his mouth, her magic moving in and out. He would feel the weight of her power, then slowly swallow it down. Their breathing was in sync.

She knew lungs. She reached the bronchi, splitting to the left into the bronchioles. Here she could sense the water around her: a contrast to the innate magic in his body. The tiny sacs gave way to alveoli, some filled with water. It was a measure of control to gently suction the moisture into an orb, leaving the delicate tissue untouched. She had complete faith in herself, for all she’d learned about the vacuum less than an hour before. “Long exhale,” she murmured, pulling the sphere and the air around it up and out his mouth.

Air swirled around the ball as she guided it to the side for a moment, before returning to the air Rhys breathed. “One more time.” She returned, following down his trachea with a deep breath in, following the flow deeper and deeper each time. Once more she was inside. She let herself float for a moment, in and out, fighting the fatigue that plagued her. Gathering her strength, she gently entered the alveoli, summoning the water into another sphere. She pulled out quickly this time, knowing her energy was waning. It might have caused a slight abrasion in his throat, just enough to be conscious of it, but not enough for pain. The moment the orb was out, she tossed it sideways, letting the water drop as it would.

Opening her eyes, she squeezed Rhys’s hands, “There.” She felt like her heart was racing as fast as Dart’s, but she forced her breathing to remain even, though with a pant, “It’s done.”

 

[Jet]

​

Mischa smiled when Rat added humor to the room. His quips were quite welcome when the mood was so tense, and she was a nervous talker like him. It helped keep her mind from the bullshit they were dealing with. "Yeah this beats the ship for sure, could've hustled the crew on this beauty." She grabbed a cue and drove the white ball into a red one, bouncing it into one of the holes. "We had one in the break room, bunch of grease-necks whooped my ass for years. Had to get good."

Her smile vanished when he got serious for a moment, because his worries echoed her own. There was no telling if they were spotted near the small outpost, and whoever attacked would come for them next. It was a massive risk but if anything could mitigate it, sticking together seemed like a good bet.

"Hmm..."

"i guess sticking together wouldn't be too bad." Mischa shrugged with a mischievous smirk. "I'll keep ya safe even if ya can't fight, I was a favorite at the games you know?" Her smile widened as she laughed at her own lie. If she was good at something it was repairs and ship designs, not throwing down with killers. If there were enemies here who could beat soldiers and damn centurions, her first move would be to turn around as fast as she could, run away and stand behind Dalton. He'd make a fine human shield.

"But really though," she said. "I once beat up a bully in school."

"Same difference yeah?" Mischa peered into the room as Leon did the same, poking her head over his shoulder. It was way too neat inside the room. No signs of violence she could see. It was like they left for a stroll and never came back. "This is too weird."

"Where the hell did they go?" She walked down the hallway behind the others, checking each room as Leon talked about Kade. His points made sense to her common sensibilities, but what the hell did she know? She was a walking wrench in a bomber jacket, not a detective of any kind. "Yeah, that sounds good," she convincingly said, pretending she knew what she was doing. "What if—

"It's like they were talked into leaving, like they were threatened with violence? Or bribed to change sides?" If she had a wooden pipe and a newsboy hat, both would be out by now. "You could be right too," she said to Leon. "Maybe they left thinking they were next after Kade? Went into hiding out in the desert? Shit that's what I'd do. Wouldn't sit around waiting for centurion killers to show up."

"We should check their supplies when we've got a chance, especially their water barrels, they would've taken as much as they could carry." They reached the last room and there by the door, on a simple plaque with black letters, was the name Kade Morales. Mischa felt a little flutter in her chest. Like a bunch of villains were hiding behind the door.

"Moment of truth eh?" Mischa took a deep breath before opening the metal door, revealing a dangerous, intimidating, overwhelming amount of—

Trash.

His room was a mess and every surface, from his table to the aluminum walls beside his bed, were covered with intricate drawings. There were battles and landscapes and detailed animal drawings; lush grasslands and deserts with rolling dunes. There were portraits too; centurions and soldiers and tribesmen with spears, but one person kept popping up.

A woman with black hair. Her eyes were vibrant green and her appearance. Her beauty was breathtaking. Mischa wished she was half as pretty as her. "Looks like someone had a crush eh? Wonder who she is?"

@Goliath Emphoa
/FONT]

 

[Emphoa]

Evaline puffed quietly, glancing back at the other two while they spoke with one another and they all seemed to be in agreement- for now, it was just the three of them. They would just have to make do with that, but she was fairly confident they would turn out alright. "I wouldn't think of it as bait, myself, this is an unfortunate circumstance but we cannot waste time blindly running about for them while they're on the move. I am certain they're doing the very same thing right now- moving on." She looked back up ahead, her expression unreadable for a moment while she listened to both of them speak up.

Finally, she let out a huff of amusement and she gave a thumbs up to Kwame. "That is enough for me. I think we could handle Escarra if it comes to it- we won't have any other choice, will we?" She looked over at Kilderkin, and she was relieved that they had a good way of keeping tabs on anyone approaching, giving a little nod of her head. "Good- Thankfully there's good reason for just about anyone who will give us trouble to be injured in some way here, as unfortunate as that is."

The white haired woman peered up ahead to the approaching end of the tunnel, shutting her eyes for a moment. "Hopefully, we won't have drastic encounters like that one- and being in a city... Well, there's a lot more metal I can pull from around here." She hummed at the thought, before looking back up ahead and slowing her step. Letting Kwame take the lead since she was in unfamiliar territory for herself. Hopefully, we can get through this. I have to... this is for Leon.

Fred Colon Jet

 

[Emphoa]

Adamaris listened to them- the edge of the world. To think that they would be on this journey now was something they would have never expected. Their heart beat hard within their chest and they hoped that they would do well through this trial. They had to. For everyone, for those that they lost... For answers. They let out a breath, and they perked up when Magnus stood and they straightened up, glancing over at Elriel a moment after. The talk of a ship- Adamaris was quick to follow, knowing that they had no time to dally about- knowing that there was so much ahead of them... waiting for them at this very moment.

They let out a breath, looking back at Elriel again as they made an umbrella of Ice and they offered a kind smile. No other man, would they want to be able to move forward on this with. For Elriel was one of the last people they had left- that they cared for more than anything else. Their expression softened, and they searched his gaze while he spoke to them.

"You're damn right we will come right back here and drink at this very table with words of our victory, together." They insisted with them a moment after, a new fire in their eyes while they spoke with their old friend. "They're going to regret gawking at us for asking such a thing, but I won't get that cocky." They chuckled lightly, freely letting their tension seep out from their body with the few words they could share with their old friend, and they looked ahead with a deeper sigh leaving their lips.

"We will just have to make do without Mavior's ship, I will not deny the kindness to give us such a vessel for this journey that's ahead of us." They spoke more to Darius, then, as they gave him a look, before looking back at Elriel when they spoke their own question- and they huffed. "If not, then we will certainly have to hear the tales of whatever mission could be a bit more out of sorts than this."

Goliath Jet

 

[Emphoa]

"Never actually played on one of these- not really a good amount of 'em available to someone on the streets." Rat snorted a little bit at the thought, before he focused his attention back on the situation at hand while he listened to the familiar clicks and clacks from the billiard balls. The thunk of them hitting the sides of the table while he hummed in thought and his chest tight with his anxiety over this situation.

"You better keep us safe, I'm putting all my bets on you, you know." Rat finally joked and he gave her a good pat on the shoulder, offering her a grin before he looked back at Leon and he rubbed the back of his neck. "Really? And with those arms here I thought you would know how to throw a punch or two." He joked, and he gave Leon a little grin as he said this. "Come on- I know you have something in you, you were in the games." He fumbled through his supplies a little bit, scrunching his nose as he mentally took note of everything- half tempted to give some of them to the other two... No, he needed to make something new- for their elements, for them.

But he let his hands fall, listening quietly as the two went back and forth and he hummed out- his eyebrows tightly knitted together while he brushed one of his hands against the wall while they trailed down the hall. "It could be anything." He murmured lowly, and he squinted briefly at the thought. "I agree, though, Kade's room is probably the largest, we'll just have to see what we might be able to find around here." He looked back over at Mischa, and he moved up ahead with her to the door they were looking for.

He felt that tight knot in his chest grow tighter as he thought about what they might have been able to find. Yet, when that very door was opened he felt his heart drop.

Something was... very wrong.

Slowly, Rat stepped into the room with his eyes scanning every surface, where he could see each drawing, the scribbling of madness as far as he was concerned. The woman... He sucked in a breath and his eyes snapped back onto Mischa when she made a comment. "Who she is, is a very good question." Rat finally mentioned and he straightened up as he got a good look at her portrait. "I think maybe... This certainly ties into why Kade could have disappeared." He admitted, and he looked around before moving over to a desk- shifting around it a little bit before he was able to find a journal.

He quirked a brow, flipping open the contents to see what he might have been able to find. There was a name- a mention of a woman he could no doubt place onto the woman they could see around them. "Elisa..." He murmured quietly, his eyebrows furrowing tighter while he continued to read through the different entries until he could reach the final one.

"I think you guys should look at this." He finally spoke up, his tone a little more serious. "It looks like the woman was Elisa- they were fancying each other, she lives in a town not super far from here. But that's not the important part." He opened the journal, setting it down onto the last entry. "Looks like they were scouting- a huge group of people were making their way here... I can only assume maybe this is.." He faltered, and he didn't voice his thoughts as he let the others look over the journal themselves.

Jet Goliath

 

[ZackStop]

Ren had a lot of scenarios playing in his mind while he blankly stared at the gauze being wrapped around Johan's arm. He made it clear earlier that they were acquainted. She was dangerous, and if things turned hostile the young man couldn't imagine how things would turn out. However, the idea popped into his head if they smacked her over the head with something she would go down, and from there they could tie her up in a corner somewhere and bolt. But that's how it went in cartoons and movies, so he wasn't sure if that's how things would play out. The last thing he wanted was for her to be killed, even if she was manipulative and venomous. He regretted his wording, in fear of it being taken that way since they've all seen enough unnecessary slaughter.

He perked his head up when Johan broke the huddle unceremoniously, looking down at Phalanx to see if he had a take, but all he did was lick his paw and look at his human with a blank expression. "Come on, really? Nothing?" The boy said under his breath.

Johan began to walk off towards another room, the one Marjorie had suggested. Ren contemplated what he should do next, weather he should follow Johan, watch the woman, get the others maybe? One thing he knew for sure is that he needed his bag with all his stuff. He could hear someone walking towards the door, the crunching of broken glass that they had seen on their way in. Turning to the door, he dragged it open to find Anya standing on the other side, causing him to jump a bit. While only a little startled, he was relieved to see an ally after all that transpired with the lightshow and illusions.

Ren placed a hand on his chest after jumping as he caught his breath. "Oh good, it's you. I thought it might have been a ghost or something!" He tried his best to shake off his nerves as he and Phalanx made their way out of the room.

Jet rozukitsune Lost Echo Huntertabbysandshark3

 

[ZackStop]

There wasn't much out there out of the ordinary besides it being a terribly torn up wasteland as it has been for as long as, anyone could remember. Ilana had a good feeling about what she had said earlier, despite it being an only half-serious comment then, but since it had been sitting with her it became a more plausible explanation.

As Ilana peered into the dusty ground before the tree line, images flashed into her head, old memories of No Man's Land thought to be long dead but resurfacing. It brought on a terrible feeling of dread that had started the moment she laid eyes on this land. The heat of the sun seemed to worsen as she felt like her head was spinning, but clenched onto the ladder she had been hanging from so as to not fall. Everything she could do to calm herself down she did with haste to return to the world of the living, all while Bracken spoke with broken words. She had no intention to respond to them, not trying to be rude but rather having no words to add to his attempt. Dalton however had made his way towards the two and gave a response in her stead.

Ilana eventually climbed down the ladder and dropped about five feet to save herself a few steps. She shared his nihilism or perhaps his realism. It was a grim situation for the poor souls who were manning this operation and it was no surprise if they were torn to shreds somewhere down the line. Especially with the 'sand pounders' as Dalton called them, savages that come in and take what they want, do what they want. It was a lawless territory that these men clearly were not prepared for.

The bottom of her sandals dragged along the sparse grains of sand that made their way on the roof from desert winds, weaker footsteps than before, more relaxed. She looked at the floor for a moment before reaching Dalton, pulling out the folded up map she had found, the same one the man had just referred to. Holding it up between her index and thumb before firmly placing it in his hand. "I'm not so good with directions, so you should hold onto it. Better in the hands of a Centurion anyway." He voice was even, not particularly aggressive or passive, not as cold as it has been either. It was genuine.

When it came to finding those native bastards however, what this ragtag group would do when they find them, something lit up inside. The girl, contrary to popular belief, wasn't an advocate for violence, only doing what must be done when it needs to be done. It's what she was taught, it's how she learned, but something was changing in her. Perhaps it was the setting, maybe the heat was making her irritable, or even the others and their happy go lucky personalities getting under her skin. Maybe a small part of her simply wanted to help these people who had been dragged off to god knows where. Ilana nonetheless was longing for a sensation that would make her knuckles feel a little less lonely.

She took a few paces to the edge of the building, rubbing a balled up fist in the palm of her hand, thinking about what was in store for them in their pursuit of savages. As a fire was growing within her, Ilana turned up the heat in her voice some, perhaps involuntarily. "I don't have a gun per say, but I'll gladly crack some skulls if you don't mind. I'm really itching for a fight." She said, speaking firmly before packing her fist into her hand like a baseball in it's glove.

Jet Fred Colon Emphoa Goliath

 

[Goliath]

Goliath was confused, his eyes looking back at Adrian. What did he see out in the fields? Just from his demeanor on the ship, he assumed the redhead wasn’t one to be so shaken up. Faraji? Yes. But not Adrian. So, as Faraji said, going back was definitely out the window now. “Agreed,“ Goliath added simply.

He listened as Adrian continued to talk about how ‘it’ and the magic shouldn’t exist. And the witch .. only said that ‘it’ had control over the vermin and that he was blessed for seeing the thing. — More like they were all going to be cursed from this damn place.

He turned back, feeling the hand on his arm. The long, yellowed fingernails and dirty skin. Fucking disgusting as he pulled away, his eyebrows pinching in. The last thing he wanted was her damn reading. Just the simple questions answered for the mission. Sadly, though, nothing was ever that easy. His eyes falling on the painting of the woman hanging on the wall. The only thing in the room that appeared to be clean.

The way she mocked the poor people of this city also annoyed him intensely, grinding his teeth together to keep from snapping as she smiled her nightmare-inducing smile. Small flashes of memories from his childhood that he attempted to repress popping into the front of his mind. The starving days and cold nights. Would he have also begged? Would he also have cut off his ear? His eyes falling on the tools laid out.

Goliath appreciated Adrian’s proclamation that he wasn’t interested in giving a donation, pulling him out of his thoughts. He wasn’t that scared child anymore, yet this place was having an effect on him. Of course, the hag didn’t like that refusal. The way her voice sing-songed Adrian’s name was eerie by itself. But he couldn’t just take it himself .. no.

Instead, the fire user asked for more observations, making him grimace. Faraji..had a child? Goliath didn’t have much time to ponder it as the attention shifted to him. He was all too aware of what she was referencing. The orphanage he was abandoned at and the gang housing he now lived within, having to watch his back for someone getting a little too confident. “Hey. Why don’t we not ask for her readings,” he hissed. Not needing anything else about himself to be revealed.

Goliath wasn’t sure if he didn’t want trouble, as Faraji said. People like this, if this was even a person, shouldn’t exist in this world. It would be better to clean the earth. But he swallowed it down. Knowing it was driven by his own secrecy and her need to crack away at his exterior in front of his group. Ultimately .. they needed answers. “Yes. As he said, we need information. So let’s meet your Queen of Bones,” he added, looking down at her.

Jet (Adrian) Arcanist (Faraji)

 

[Jet]

​

"Mhmm." His mouth twitched on the corners for a moment, like he was ashamed of his happiness. "No worry. I keep same."

The arm rose up and disassembled in the air, like a schematic showing every part, every screw and wire running through it. He looked at the table and scraps rose into the air, twisting and turning into joints and fingers. The wires connected forming a network of copper nerves, looking like a spread of tree roots. He moved them to the arm and piece by piece, with great care and precision, he replaced the inefficient parts he'd seen. He swapped heavy metals for light composites with the same strength, changed gears to increase the grip strength, power and torque. He replaced old wires with stronger ones of his own creation, and swapped the screws with newer and stronger ones, more capable of taking a beating.

He snapped and the arm slotted together like a puzzle. The screws spun into their holes and tightened every joint and armor plate, and finally it snapped together with a metal clunk.

"Done." Tawny grabbed the arm and weighed it in his hands. It was lighter but stronger than before.

"Hmm—

He sniffed the arm. "Yes. Better than before."

"You try?" He handed it back over. "Tell if you don't like."

Meanwhile, Isaac leaned back and searched for a story he could tell. He'd been alive for an unusually long time, and his abundance of stories posed a problem. Instead of struggling to think of something he could say, the many options made it harder. "Hmm..."

"You put me on the spot!" He slapped his leg with a smile. "The more years you live, the more the years blend together eh?"

His smile dimmed for a moment. He half-wondered if it was actually true. If his mind was rotting away as he sat there like an idiot, fumbling for a good story to tell.

"Ah!" His eyes brightened as something came to mind. "I'll introduce you to the west with the story of my own introduction."

"Unfortunately for me, there was no grace period, none to warn me of the fantastical place I was stepping into." He reached in his pouch and took out a wooden pipe. The fern grasses were mellow this time of year. "We'd boarderd a hostile ship and engaged the enemy crew. They were tough as they come, brave warriors with more skill than most."

"I pushed to the aft and there by the wheel, standing beside the captain, was a girl no older than ten. Her eyes a midnight shade of black." He sparked his pipe and puffed a few times, stoking the flame within. "I begged the captain to excuse her, to spare her the horror of a ship battle, but then her eyes glowed."

"Knox dissappeared like a ghost on the wind." He looked at his owl familiar. "My powers vanished alongside him and suddenly I was tossed from the ship!"

"Imagine that, humbled by a ten year old girl, only in the west my friend." He leaned forward in his seat. "But I've rambled long enough! Tell me, what's the strangest thing you've ever laid your eyes on?"

ManofManyRoles

 

[ManofManyRoles]

Yua Smith
ユア・スミス
Yua nodded silently at the affirmation, he'd keep it the same. "Alrighty-oh!" The arm escaped her grip and hovered up into the air, Yua taking a step backwards out of instinct at the sight. After all, it wasn't every day that one of her limbs just hovered in the air before her! Eyes wide and jaw slack, the blonde watched in rapt silence as Tawny plied his craft in silent precision. The inner skeleton was replaced and stripped apart to be something new, something more. She was doing so much more than staring in blank amazement, no she was taking careful note of what got replaced and what replaced it. After all, prosthesis were part of her personal field of study! This was like watching a foreign master in a field of study she longed to master herself. As the screws tightened, Yua couldn't help but...well, stare as Tawny sniffed the arm. The sight was enough to briefly break her of the revelry, and derail her own thoughts. "Oh! Thank you!" Yua reached out with the only hand she had to offer, grabbing the limb. It was a bit of work, and honestly an awkwardly hilarious sight. She had to worm the arm back into an empty sleeve and shift it this way and that at her shoulder with a very thoughtful expression. "Annnd...there, got it!" There was that same series of clicks, a soft click click click. She paused, slowly lifting her arm. A flex at the elbow...then the wrist was spun this way and that. "Oh...oh my..."

She stared at her arm like it might bite her, another slow flex. That was light. More than that, it felt second nature to move...was this what it was like to have a normal arm again? It didn't have a weight settled onto her shoulder, she didn't feel it attached to her. If not for the fact she would never feel through it, she'd forget it was there. "Tawny...this is so cool. Thank you! It's so light. I don't feel it hanging at my shoulder...well I mean I guess I feel it a little bit, but it's less than the last model. Thank you so much!" She took a step towards him and came dangerously close to wrapping him in a hug before freezing up, suddenly folding her hands behind her back with an ashamed laugh. "S-sorry. Was going to give you a hug but uh...dunno if you'd appreciate that...Thank you, is the point."

Felix listened silently, gaze glued to Isaacs face as he spoke. Not in an offsetting or concerning fashion, but in a way that showed his attention was solely for Isaac at the moment. Though as his story continued a brow slowly raised, a glance towards the owl. His familiar...disappeared? That sounded familiar. "I suppose you're correct, sir. As I've gotten older, it all begins to blend together more and more as a sort of epic or saga, I suppose...your familiar disappeared, you said? But they came back?...Curious. The disaster in Nye, the one caused so many dead. Their familiars were stolen from them, sucked away. Was this...a similar case, or did he simply get banished so to speak?...Ah, forgive me. I should leave questions for the end, it is only fair I return a story in kind."

He paused, considering what story might best satisfy the old man's curiosity. "Some context, I suppose. I hail from Albion, the land of knights and nobles. When I was a younger lad, I was a man of the blade, a knight beholden to a lord. I suppose I am still a knight, in a way, just a different sort. I digress. When I was younger, I was a returning contestant to the games myself. I originally meant to be a Centurion, to be truthful...but after my first game and losing, it lost the appeal. I decided to continue to play in the games to make sure whoever got that position deserved it, as I detested the thought a man or woman of no moral to have such a position if I could 'weed them out' so to speak. With the context out of the way...the actual unusualness of it all. I returned to Albion after one game, I believe it was one of my last. A knight approached me on my return home and called me by name, challenging me on my own lands. He proclaimed me of weak faith and weaker spine, and challenged me to prove him wrong."

It was here that Felix paused, and if he was the sort to smoke he would have indeed taken a drag of a cigarette. There was a far off look in his eye, as if the scene was unfolding in his mind clear as day. "We dueled then and there. He was a master of the blade, and I found myself pushed to my limits. Then, I landed a good clean cut, right through the clavicle. However, when my blade touched him he disappeared into a cloud of mist and retook shape a few feet away. I had no chance to consider what had happened before he was on me again. Thrice he assaulted me, and thrice did I land a clean cut. No matter how many times I landed a blow, it proved fruitless. Finally, I landed a clean swing...his armor lacked a gorget, and I cleaved his head off. But, he did not die. No, he lifted the helm up to reveal it to be empty...he laughed at me, called me a fine knight, and then he was gone in that same puff of mist." Felix gave a slow shrug then, shaking the memory from his head. "To this day, I know not who that knight was, or why I was targetted that eve."

​

Jet

 

[Jet]

​

"Dante — the pleasure is all yours." He mischievously smiled and tossed back his hair, flaunting his neck and jawline. His eyes were seductive but there was intelligence beneath them. Like the sun hiding behind the clouds.

"I could ask you the same thing, but what a shame a mask would be." He looked across the room at a mirror on the wall, framing them like a painting. "You're a man worth seeing without a disguise, every inch from your face to your—

His mouth curled into a smirk.

"Dashing sense of style." He took wine glasses from a server working the crowd, holding one in each hand. "I couldn't help but notice when you came inside. I'm like a moth to a flame when beauty is involved." He passed Nihall one of the glasses. "So now that you know my name, who has the pleasure of speaking with m—

"You talk funny." Bean snatched the glass from his hand. "Like you read a romance book and copied the main character."

"Oh?" Dante cocked his head at the centurion. "You've read many romance books? Would never expect—

Bean walked away without acknowledging the man, brushing past him to the back of the room. He dropped the glass on the floor and headed for the VIP section, roped off with low lighting and plush couches, a fireplace and private bar. It was surrounded by security guards but not the standard type. These were veteran soldiers and killers, mercenaries and one ex-centurion. Bean recognized him from a news report years ago. When a centurion was caught shagging the princess of another country. It caused a huge scandal and he was fired for the offense.

"Wow! A centurion!" He stopped before the guards. "You're shorter than I imagined!"

He looked up at the man. He was average height but that was besides the point. "I thought all centurions were supposed to be tough looking! You know! Really big!"

"You fill me heart with pride as a little guy!"

Meanwhile, Dante scowled as Bean walked away. "Your companion is quite an unpleasant fellow, neither of you are with him by choice I presume."

He looked at Vixie and gave his warmest smile, but it was barely above freezing. He'd never had much kindness in his heart. "Forgive me I've forgotten my manners, what's your name Lady...." He noticed her awkwardness and the way she hid from the room, her shame radiated like heat from a flame. This certainly wasn't her environment. "Perhaps I can take you somewhere, less offensive to your tastes. You seem quite perturbed by this spectacle of sin."

"There are quieter corners of the Casablanca. I know it quite well."

Lost Echo Anne Boolean

 

[Jet]

​

Arnheid innocently smiled at the arrogant man; she was amused at how clueless he was. He thought ten years were the only ones she spent training, but on the island of Jarnstrond, children were trained from a young age. Everyone was a soldier from the farmers to carpenters and carvers of the stone. There were no scared peasants who'd run screaming for their lives, only trained killers.

Her training began at seven and when she was eighteen, after honing her skills for eleven years, she entered service with the Jarl. A decade later she took the path and earned her own crystal. There was no point in correcting him though. No matter how much training he had. No matter how much confidence he possessed. No matter how arrogant he was, his training meant nothing in the north. Where the cold killed in minutes without proper protection. Where the sea froze over and trapped boats for months or even years, killing everyone aboard.

Where nature was more dangerous than any man could ever dream, and unfortunately for Ivan, he couldn't kill gods with a sword.

"Twenty years of training, a fine swing you must have with your sword, but in the white desert."

"Where nature turns the strongest men to wailing babes, your training means nothing." Arnheid opened a chest and put several coats on a table. There were gloves and boots within the folded skins. "This will be enough for your fool's endeavor, but cold will seep through them like water through a glass, you must camp often without a fire soul among you."

"You must watch for ice flows, never allow your ship to be trapped—

"Wait! You tellin me?" Zak plopped down on a seat. "You lot use ships? Like on the water ships? Using paddles and sails kinda ships? Not floating off the ground kinda ships? No wonder this shit's so bloody dangerous, why not use airships and be done with it?"

Arnheid leaned back on a wall and sighed. "The wisest king among them was still a fool. His empty head caved from the weight of his crown."

"You fuckin what mate?" Zak curiously cocked his head. "Mind speaking in plain language. Not whatever mumbo jumbo you're laying on us."

"Tis a saying," Arnheid said. "That even the wisest among you is still empty headed, for you know nothing of what you seek. Nothing of the trials you will face!"

"You mustn't use an airship to pass over your trials. The winds are too harsh, storms too common! They would rip you apart like a wolfpack!"

Zak leaned back and glanced at the others. He wondered if they felt the same way as him. The moment of oh shit we actually have a problem here, because none of them were sailors. Hell, this was his first time setting foot on a sailboat! The others were similar and now they were going north, a place so dangerous to experienced sailors, none had ever explored it.

If there was a scale from one to fucked, he was completely fucked. He'd broken the damn scale.

"Ah whatever... we'll be fine!" He smiled despite his reservations. There was no point in cowering now. "Told you, little cold and ice won't stop me and the boys, and if we die?"

"Least the view will be nice."

"Brave or foolish, I can hardly tell." Arnheid chuckled and closed her wooden crate, looking over at Mavior and Ivan. "But it is not my place to stop you. It is the domain of Freyr and Njörd, rulers of storm and sea."

"If your cause is noble as you claim, pray they will guide you to the tree." She sat across from Zak and measured each man. They were naive fools but they looked ernest enough, each true to their words. They weren't seeking power for power's sake.

The least she could do was offer some advice.

"I can teach you what saved me when I took the path, but in exchange you must swear to me, on whatever God you worship in your native land, swear to look for my brother. Bring his sword to me if you find him. Let me have something to remember him by."

EldridSmith ManofManyRoles