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Fantasy The Great Games of Nye

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"You're handling it well for your first time. I've seen far worse." He smiled like there was a funny thing he wanted to say, but in truth, her impression of the club amused him. It was much more than a cheap brothel of old creeps, rather a place where everyone was welcomed no matter who they were, where stigmas of color and preference were torn down like tower walls, where differences were embraced unlike in the cold, vicious world above them.

"But I can assure you, there's much to enjoy beyond the physical." He glanced at Nihaal before turning from the pair, walking towards a doorway across the room. "I recall a handsome singer who looked quite like you, a phenomenal dancer with a penchant for breaking hearts. I saw him once years ago, like a flash of light through the clouds."

"I hoped for a dance with him but alas, fate intervened and stopped me from asking." He slowly smiled at the man. It seemed they were both playing the game now. "His name is on the tip of my tongue — but I'm afraid that's hardly enough for me."

He opened the door and went down a long hallway, lined with paintings and marble statues, mosaics made from tiles and glass. It was a kaleidoscopic procession of priceless art. "Ah! The name's come to me at last."

"Nyaal was it?" He raised his brow like the name actually evaded him, when in truth he'd known all along. "Would you happen to know him? You've such a striking resemblance, unless—

"You're the man himself?" He opened a second door and entered a room filled with cafe tables. The walls were lined with bookshelves and a fireplace flickered in the corner. There were love seats and couches and chess boards on tables, and a few people, older men for the most part, talked quietly over whiskey and cigars.

Lost Echo Lost Echo Anne Boolean Anne Boolean

 
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Yua Smith
ユア・スミス

Yua eyed Tawny silently, the poor kid looking just about as awkward as...well, honestly how she felt whenever she had to attend one of her parents board meetings. "Are you su-okay well here we go." Hey, A for effort right? Well if Tawny was going to give a hug, the least she could do is make it an actual hug instead of...something so painfully awkward she wanted to crawl out of her skin. Yua wrapped her arms around the living machine and squeezed him in a hug. Nothing long, it only lasted a few moments before she worked to disentangle herself. Her lips bore a slight upturn, the faintest smile of relief...after the day so far, a hug was a welcome thing...awkward as it was. "Warm on the inside...you mean like an engine almost?" It was a bit on point, but maybe it was just the case? As Yua's family was brought up in conversation she visibly deflated, and her smile no longer reached her eyes. "Oh...uh, yeah. I have parents, a mom and a dad. And they uh...do give me a hug when they see me...every few weeks." Yua's voice turned into an almost embarrassed grumble before she caught herself and continued. "My parents are...really polite. They're extremely busy at all times though. I don't see them very often...That's uh...okay though. I know they're just busy. That's all it is." Yua's tone had started to become more somber as she spoke. She was used to the concept of taking care of herself or Felix having to do it when she was sick and when she was younger. But just because someone was used to something didn't make the subject any more enjoyable.

"I see...it's good that Knox was returned to your side, then. Much more preferable to the alternative." Felix folded his hands in his lap, one clasping the next as he crossed a leg across his lap. There was a thoughtful pause, brows furrowed for just a moment. "The One Who Laughs," he echoed thoughtfully. There hadn't been much laughter per-say...mostly sharp jabs and barbs tossed in his general direction. However, after such an experience in his life, Felix could not deny that there was undoubtably to this world than what he knew. "Well, if that knight was truly the aspect of some sort of primordial being...that would explain much, I think. Though I admit, if I should never have to duel him again, it will still be too soon for my liking. A fair trade of stories though, I say....And though I do hate to change the topic, I feel the matter is rather pressing. Of today and what transpired...what comes next, sir? Miss Smith will no doubt continue to stay here, I think she's made up her mind and heart on offering you and your people her support. With that said, the warrior from today...if he should prove a legitimate threat, what then?"
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Jet Jet
 
Oh, I wouldn’t expect you to. I’m a Hydraline--we’re the family that owns Xysma. I might not be high up the ladder, but we’re distinct with our hair. If they wanted to make a spectacle out of a nameless soldier, what do you think they’d do with one of the leaders.” She stepped back murmuring about her hair, “That should work, it’s the best we can do unless we shave your head, a few wisps shouldn’t be too bad.

Wiping her hands on her dull pants, she shook her head, “I mean; I know most o’ the people down here. I snuck down when I was a kid; played with the others. I was practically one of them.” She smiled in nostalgia. “I mean, sure we knew I’d grow up different, but they still took me in.” Meeting Renee’s eyes earnestly, she tried to plea, “Most of Xysma’s good people. It’s just those scurfs from Nye that are screwing everything up.” It probably didn’t even matter to the songbird. She had her own problems to deal with. But Gailene wanted her to understand.

rozukitsune rozukitsune
 
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"Oh." A family of individuals who owned the island? Yeah... that would probably be on the top of the chopping block for the sort of angry people who had chopped off some guy's head to make a point, Renee thought while Gailene spoke. She made a face at the idea of getting her head shaved off and shuddered. "Let's hope that's not necessary." She whimpered.

Tying the drawstring into a tight double knot below her chin so that the hood wasn't likely to accidentally fall off her head while she was running, she considered Gailene more curiously as she explained she'd grown up on the island. Played around criminals as a child. Who would allow a child to do such a thing? The idea that most here were 'good people' stumped her. 'Good people' did not gather in giant frothing masses and cheer while others were beheaded. Still, those pleading eyes did make Renee chew on her bottom lip. "People from Nye caused this? How?" She didn't have enough information to understand - but she was willing to give the seemingly friendly Gailene the benefit of the doubt at least.

Renee knew in theory that the people who ran her home country were directly responsible for a lot of bad in the world: but it wasn't as if they really taught most of that to the Nyeians in school. History was written by the winners - after all. She had learned many watered-down versions of reality, and the news sources she obtained were most assuredly heavily censored so that the lower nobility of Nye remained unbothered by things they had no real control over. The only reason she even knew that the people at the very top might be bad was there were a lot of people who visited and spread rumors... and there was a whole Undercity where the failures and criminals of Nye were sent to ensure that the bustling "Utopia" achieved its appearance. The Undercity was a cautionary tale told to children to keep them in line. How could it even exist if Nye was as perfect as it wanted everyone who lived there to think it was? Still, theory and rumor were not the same as facts - and it was those Renee was sorely lacking in this situation.

Lost Echo Lost Echo
 
Vixie wasn’t sure if it was a good idea for Nyaal’s name to be out there, but at the same time, she couldn’t believe someone could not recognize him. She looked unimpressed by the game the two were playing, even if she thought it was real. She focused instead on the artwork on the walls. The hallway was quiet enough to remind her of a museum, and the display was impressive. It made her feel almost like she was on a field trip she hadn’t studied for. She clasped her hands together, in an effort to not touch (and therefore break) any of the fragile sculptures along the way.

But Dante was right, the room was just what she needed. The tension in her shoulders gave way as a smile crossed her face. Books! The child in her (so mostly her) screamed. How long had it been since she’d been able to read. There were a few stuffy old guys, but Vixie didn’t mind that. Instead, she smiled, her pleasure obviously, “This is wonderful!” A part of her knew she interrupted him: he obviously cared more about Nihal, but the foxgirl got the impression her claimed brother wasn’t opposed to the attention. Did he want her to drift off? She glanced up at him, trying to study his gaze. Was he planning something? At times like this, she realized how little she knew about him. Oh, she knew his favorite color, designer, and what he usually ate for breakfast, but all of the facts swimming in her head didn't mean she could predict what he was going to do.

Anne Boolean Anne Boolean Jet Jet
 
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“Look here, you’re the one who made a loud scary noise in the middle of nowhere! How was I supposed to know it wasn’t something worse?! One more thing! I don’t even THINK, AS. I. ACT. SOO…!” Pointing an accusatory finger at the musician, Euclaire jabbed it towards his chest, enunciating every word at the end before realizing she wasn’t making any sense at all, leaving herself momentarily tongue tied and unable to think of any clever comebacks.

“So.. I make no promises? I don’t know what you expect from me really.” Cooling off as fast as she heated up, the redhead shrugged and let the matter go. They were in the middle of who knows where surrounded by who knows what and their Centurion was injured. Who wouldn’t be a little nervous?

“Anyway, I think pressure will do for now.” She suggested, keeping both their wishes in mind, “She’s conscious and mostly able, so it can’t be as bad as it looks. As long as she lays down on the tiger and keeps pressure on it, it should stop bleeding in no time. Look at her, she’s built different. No need to baby her.” Euclaire praised Tess despite the woman’s apparent inability to care for herself and handed her the balled up fabric.

“Cauterizing is possible but I’ve also never done it before either. What if I make it worse, right? Hahahaha, It’s definitely far from proper first aid. We can get a second opinion once we make it back.” Laughing off the idea of burning the Centurion, Euclaire gave the big tiger a pat. “That said, get on the fucking tiger, Tess. You can do that much, right?”

Jet Jet EldridSmith EldridSmith
 
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Johan hoped the business card would distract Marje from her mind games, but now they were stronger than ever. He felt rage bubbling as she poked holes in their relationship; the needling comments meant to undermine what they had. It was a disgustingly cheap trick.

"Yeah our relationship was shit, but it's not the same with Narzas." He stuffed his hands in his pockets. "You should you know, move on with your life, find someone who makes you happy, maybe a guy who likes being stepped on?"

"There's something called professionalism too, not getting all cozy on the job, professing our love like school kids. It helps keep our personal life separate from all these—

He nudged the body with his foot. "Wonderful sights."

"Really sets the mood for a svelte I love you." His scoffed before entering the common area, blinking in disbelief at what Anya said. The yellow bricks were like something from a crappy dime novel, and the reality bender was even weirder. He only believed that part because of what Ava said afterwards.

"I'd like to meet this time bender for myself." He cocked his head by an inch. "And what's this about yellow bricks? They make those?" He looked around twice for good measure, but he saw nothing but normal bricks. To him it seemed like she was hallucinating.

He decided it was best not to press her about it. If it was a delusion then it could be addressed in a more relaxed setting, not the place causing PTSD hallucinations. Instead he focused on the other part of what she said. The one he could actually wrap his mind around. "We don't work missing cases, but we're trained to track people down." He glanced at Narzas with a nod of confidence; surely they could help Anya out. "But first we need an idea of what they look like."

He made a mirage in the shape of a human head, like a mannequin without any features. It hovered in the air between Johan and the young woman. "I know it doesn't seem like much, but give me the best description you got. I'll change it around until we know what they look like."

"At least then we'll know who we're looking for."

Lost Echo Lost Echo rozukitsune rozukitsune ZackStop ZackStop Huntertabbysandshark3 Huntertabbysandshark3
 
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hair (3) (1).pngRen was pleased to see Anya in good spirits. After all that he just witnessed and the thick negative energy it created, what he needed was a good smile. "uh yeah, good point." He gave a little chuckle and a sigh. Joking with someone around his age wasn't something he was used to, but it was most certainly welcomed. What's more, Ava shared the same good energy, as she bared the fangs in her equally cheerful smile.

Whatever worries that Ren was facing soon completely fizzled away at the sight of his bag being held out by a massive land shark. He was a little caught off guard by the land shark comment, even more outlandish than a ghost or a zombie, but was overpowered by the relief of his tools in arms reach. "Oh wow, My bag!" His face lit up even more as Ava held it out. Ren didn't wear the heaviest of armor, mostly consisting of reinforced leather, but it was still rather hefty. He let out a small huff as he lifted it by the strap out of Ava's hand and slung it over his shoulder. "Thanks a bunch!"

The boy then got rather quiet, and a little more serious as Anya asked him what had happened. "We ran into some trouble, and well, we currently have a sorta shaky alliance." He tried not to make it obvious to the checker patterned woman when he spoke of her, but glanced over to let the women know who he was referring to. "Pretty sure she's got a lightning element, she can screw with your head." That was all he could really think of to answer Anya's question, leaving it brief so to not raise suspicion. He then nodded, pulling on the strap over his shoulder before following along.

Ren and his familiar piled into the room with the rest of them. Feeling it get a bit cramped however, the teen stayed close to the door and listened, chiming in when he felt it was appropriate. He scanned around them room while the others spoke. "More of the same..." He thought to himself. Or in this case, less of the same. Either way, the smell seemed more potent, more bottled up. Enough to cut through the equally sickening minty smell still lingering in his nose. It was beginning to become overwhelming, but as Anya spoke about her and Ava's encounter, what sounded like full on time manipulation pulled him back out of the pit he was slowly falling into. It peaked his interest to say the least, but he almost didn't believe it.

"Is that even possible?" It felt even more likely that what she was describing was an illusion after what he experienced with Marjorie's own manipulation of the senses. Being a simple tinker shop worker was much more simple than all this. Ren's mind was getting boggled by the second. Too much was happening at once and he was getting hungry, like for a sandwich. Maybe there was one nearby like during the bomb incident, but bringing that memory back was enough to kill his appetite. The boy simply suffered with the rest of them, rubbing his head. "Good grief." He thought, looking down at Phalanx.

Finally, upon hearing Anya's story about her friend, Ren had a brief look of shock and concern. It was news to him. He had no idea she was carrying that sort of burden. Kidnapping was heavy stuff, even compared to the death they have been so gracefully introduced to as a ragtag group. He wanted to say something, something that could help her, but he had to admit he was just a stupid kid who knew little about anything. He could hardly articulate a sentence that could make someone feel better, probably doing more harm than good. The most he could do is stay positive.

He set his bag down once again, looking at Phalanx and pointed at it, entrusting he would guard it before walking a few paces. "Follow the yellow brick road." he repeated. "Like The Wonderous Wizard of Oz?" Not quite right, but it was close enough. He watched where Anya was pointing and walked over to it. "This one?" he pointed, before kneeling beside it to give it a closer inspection. However, he didn't see what she was clearly seeing. It was identical to the others, but he still went along with it. "Maybe it's a clue." He said with a smile like he was really onto something. He wrapped his index and thumb around his chin as he stared at it quietly.

Jet Jet Lost Echo Lost Echo rozukitsune rozukitsune Huntertabbysandshark3 Huntertabbysandshark3
 
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Dalton took the map with a small nod of approval. It was better if he carried the map instead of the rookies on his team, liable to die on their first encounter. "Smart woman." He followed the tracks until he reached the sparse forest, chuckling when Bracken corrected him.

"Oh hell, they all the same." He looked around like a paranoid soldier, his head swiveling back and forth. He spent years out west and knew how fast things changed. How they lurked in the trees without leaving a trace, patiently waiting for the right time to strike. They could be around him right then and there, hiding and watching every move he made — and it wasn't paranoia talking. He'd been ambushed in places like this one.

"The thing is." His voice was louder, more tense than usual. "Spags a spag no matter what you do, or what shrunken head they worship, only difference is how hard they fuck you."

"Joden and Ricoro? That bunch will take anything not bolted to the floorboards, and even you know about them Atsali. They'll cut off your damn topknot, bury you alive and laugh about it." He tapped his scalp before kneeling in the brush, reaching through bushes and dead branches. He noticed something shiny on the ground by his feet, a locket half buried in the sand. "Musta missed this one."

"Mine now." He opened the locket and found a picture of a young couple. He figured the owner was already dead. The natives weren't keen on prisoners.

"We'll give em a fight," he said to Ilana. "Just keep your cuffs ready to crack them heads. We ain't leaving till they pay for this shit."

He pocketed the necklace and patted his leg for good measure. He wasn’t going to leave money on the table. "Damn good start I'd say, but that about does it for—

He spun around as a twig snapped in the forest; his gaze swept through the trees and bushes. He looked for anything out of place in the environment, even a branch or leaf in the wrong spot. It was probably an animal but in a place as hostile as this one, taking chances was a good way to die.

Fred Colon Fred Colon ZackStop ZackStop
 
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Marjorie followed the others into the tiny room and pinched her nose in disgust once more at the smell in the room. Usually the smell of death didn't bother her, but the murderer of this individual had taken his or her sweet time with the amount of torture. It honestly could have been Marjorie's handiwork - except she always preferred to do her torture psychosomatically. She'd flayed many a mind in the same way this individual's body had been mangled. She made a mental note next to all her others regarding people's bad-sides and turned her attention to Johan and his flippant remarks toward her comments. For just a moment, his words regarding her settling down seemed to spark an emotion he'd probably never seen her actually show before. It was subtle, just a dip of her smile - a minute flicker of her eyebrows. The electrically charged atmosphere growing slightly less-so that suggested she might actually be capable of regret.

All of that vanished as fast as it appeared though and she was right back to trying to verbally rip him a new one. "Why should Ah pick one when so many are willin' ta throw themselves at me? Variety is the spice of life. You used ta think so too. I mean, when exactly does the great Johan Koch ever take a break anyway?" She asks with a roll of her eyes. "Face it, love. You don't even know what you want! Ah talked ta Alina. She was the only one that evar beat me on time spent with ya." She says, brushing her nails against the front of her shirt and considering them instead of the scene inside the room. "Said y'all was gonna tie the knot 'n ever'thang. How d'ya get that far without feelin' anythin'?" She shook her head. "Ya had ever'thang... she was gonna share your life, give you children. But sure - this is somehow different." She scoffs.

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Narzas.pngNarzas had settled herself on the far side of Johan, both to get a good look at their clue and the body it was attached to: and to try to get farther away from Marj. She felt a bit of appreciation for Kallos's efforts to try and distract the woman from continuing on with her conversation... but the bird needn't have worried. She wasn't an idiot. Part of the reason she'd never really made it to her final task as part of her sect until she'd nearly reached the age where they would have wanted her to become a teacher was that she was just too emotionally clueless to really navigate the social aspects of being an assassin. She couldn't do the 'talk her way out of things' bit or the 'look like you belong there' bit that someone like Marjorie had probably mastered. The reason you could tell a person had mastered it was... well, they always seemed like they were telling the truth even when they were lying. Narzas was positive Marj had probably told some lies during their short conversation thusfar, but she couldn't for the life of her sort out which were which.

It had barely taken a step or three for her mind to shove the words that had pained her from her mind. Why should three such short words matter that much to anyone? What exactly was the point in saying such things? To tell a person what they should already know? Besides, she was pretty sure she knew why they hadn't shared such verbal romanticisms. Life promised to be so short... why waste the time when one could spend it doing so much more? They'd already done a lot with very little time indeed. So long as time could be spent with the ones you loved... that should be enough for anyone.

As Johan began to talk and joke, she surfaced from her musings enough to throw him another amused little smile. She was fairly confident he'd nailed Marjorie with that. 'Yes.' She thought, trying not to laugh. 'Let's just all wax poetic in front of these dead people.' She had to bite her lips to try and fight back the burble of mirth in her chest. Thankfully Marj was on point though - cutting through her private amusement easily. The brunette frowned, then gently shifted her weight until her shoulder touched Johan's lightly. She hoped he could read on her face that she didn't care, and she was here - whatever had happened in the past. Together against the world. Now there was a promise.

Her attention moved to Anya, growing bored of Marj. The young woman was so lost and yet so hopeful - hunting for someone of her own that meant something to her. Though Narzas too could not see the yellow brick, she didn't need to. "We will help you however we can." She agreed with the others. "I hope your friend is alright."

Jet Jet ZackStop ZackStop Lost Echo Lost Echo Huntertabbysandshark3 Huntertabbysandshark3
 
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There was no way he'd never played pool right? It was in every bar from the outlands to Byzantine and the bloody north pole, and even townies had tables! It seemed incomprehensible but then again, his childhood was hard to imagine. The kind of life beyond what she understood. While he struggled, her life was spent with friends and family in the warmth of a good home, loving parents and siblings at the table. There was never a night without dinner nor one without love, but he came from nothing — truly nothing. The deepest form of poverty like a chasm in the sea, where the pressure pushed you down to the bottom.

Mischa was about to get sappy when the conversation moved on, leading to the amazing, wonderful, pleasant idea of protecting them... as if she could even protect herself! The only reason she didn't laugh was the sarcastic bit she was committed to. "Don't worry your pretty head," she said to him. "I'd bet on meself too, already had a centurion contract before the games started!"

Her gaze moved to Leon when he talked about Nye. His point made sense coming from an outsider, but to her? To people in the city? There was no way. The streets were clean and business was booming, and the lords were decent people. Yes there were flaws but what country was perfect? And it beat living in most places.


"Nah the Rock ain't so bad, sure beats living in...

"What's its name? That blasted place between Valencia and Nazir, or hell, what about Byzantine?" Mischa scoffed at the nasty word. "They'd burn me at the stake for half my antics!"

She entered the room and stopped babbling for a moment, cringing at the portraits on the walls. It seemed Kade was an obsessed creep with a talented brush, drawing his beautiful wife who, unfortunately for him, didn't know she was his wife yet.

"Fuckin hell you're not wrong," she said when Leon mentioned her beauty. Indeed she was absolutely stunning, a ridiculously attractive eleven out of ten. Mischa didn't swing that way but with her...

"This is so creepy," she said to distract from the woman, pulling down one of the drawings. "If a guy ever did this to me?"

"No way. You'd see me running for the hills." Mischa paced the room looking for what she wasn't sure, but she stopped when Rat found the book. Her heart skipped with excitement for what it would say, like a clue in the novels she liked. "Nicely done! Your nose is sharp as ever Sherlock," she said before leaning over his shoulder, eyes wide as he opened the book. She read along with him as he explained what it said. "Seems we've got a lead!"

"I can't wait to see Dalton rage when we break the case." Mischa squeezed Rats shoulders with a grin on her face, before going over to the bed. It hadn't been washed in months by looks of it. "Leon..."

"I'm gonna get bit by a spider going down there." Mischa shrugged and went down to her knees, looking up at the bed while he tilted it. Her eyes glimmered for a moment with a mischievous idea, something to have fun while searching the room. "So, a romance novel? Interesting pick."

"But now I'm curious." Her mouth curled up at the corners. "Let's say you're the main character, who's the leading lady?"

Goliath Goliath Emphoa Emphoa

 
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Tessia looked at them with a blank expression on her face, eyes glossy as they rambled about health and safety, tons of boring stuff that made her want to sleep. It was like a bedtime story from a man with a dull voice, and as she stood there bleeding from her stomach, her only reaction was a loud yawn.

"Hmmm..." she sarcastically hummed in thought. "No! I don't feel like it."

Her gaze turned to Euclair as she ordered her around... as if she'd follow commands from anyone! The only good part was the flattery right before it. "Indeed! Yes I am built different," she closed her eyes and nodded at the woman. "That's why I don't wanna."

Tessia turned and stomped through the forest, marching towards the smoking wreck in the distance. Had they asked nicely she would've considered riding the tiger, but now there was no chance! Her first instinct was to fight through the pain and that's exactly what she was gonna do, and she definitely wasn't getting burned. The swimsuit edition was coming up in a couple months now, and she'd be damned before missing that with a burn scar!

"Thanks for the offers," she said to them both. "But I'm world renowned for my endurance! I once ate three hundred hot dogs in a sitting."

"Plus I don't know what kind of medicine that is," she said to Baryn. "Never heard of it and not doin it! But if you're right I'll owe you drinks, deal?" She winked at him with a little blush on her face, nothing like showmanship to convince men not to bother her. And with that out of the way, she could focus on what was really important. The ones hiding in the trees.

Tessia had weaved her magic with the humid air all around them, small droplets invisible to the human eye, and each was a sensor she used. When branches or animals or people moved through them, she felt their movement on her skin.

And right now, she felt the movement of people following them.

Tessia forced a smile as she kept tabs on the presence. "The way you two argue, it's like an old married couple!"

"I'm jealous, my last relationship went down in flames like a balloon ship, a breakup of epic proportions!" She looked back with the same forced smile, but her eyes were sharp and serious. "That's why centurions shouldn't date centurions, too many people watching us, paparazzi hiding in the bushes when you leave the house! It was public theater at that point!"

EldridSmith EldridSmith Monbon Monbon
 
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Elriel continued staring back at Darius with calm purple eyes, waiting for his seemingly simple question to be answered. However, his efforts to connect with the hardened man turned out to be time clearly wasted by the ridiculous response he was given. Fighting the urge to roll his eyes at the rather dramatic no.

He wondered, briefly, what it would be like if they had been given a different centurion. One who cared about them or the fact they were now a team. What they could have learned from their leader's experiences, like the one who had trained him in Valencia. But instead ..

Elriel tuned back into the conversation to listen when Darius agreed with the pair that they would at least return and drink around the table. Which was something, at least. — Though, to no one’s surprise, Magnus once again doubted them. Almost like he was mocking their resolve as he proclaimed gods and familial relations, not all that different than what they had done in the long hall. But in a sarcastic, dry manner.

Still, such things wouldn’t bother Elriel anymore, not after speaking his own father's name. The only way to convince a guy like this was with actions. Not doubting how many times he had heard the same thing before, only to never see the ship return. For it to flip and be swallowed by the cold, dark depths as he recanted. So the Nobel merely nodded when Magnus said he was done with the topic.

He stood there as the barn doors were pressed open, only able to make out the black silhouette in the dark space. Elriel listened to the story while he held his tongue of questions, the words soaking in as he prepared himself for what was to come on their journey. The almost perfectly timed lightning as he imagined being on a ship, positive it would be destroyed, while surrounded by nothing but water. The fear of creaking wood and large waves, only to make it through the other side. This had been Magnus’s own vessel.

As the touches illuminated the ship from Magnus’s hand, he found the element fitting. Elriel finally stepped inside the barn out of the rain, moving forward to rest his hand against the worn hull. The craftsmanship was as good as he had hoped. Something that came only with an entire history focused on making a trip like this. He bowed his head slightly as he shut his eyes for a second out of respect, finally speaking again.

Strength indeed. We appreciate your kindness in gifting us your ship. For the blessings that run through the wood,” he spoke as he turned around again. “We will treat her well and return it to you with a second successful voyage under her belt.” Elriel walked back over to Adamaris, flashing another soft smile. “I doubt even my money could buy something made with such care or attention. She may be worn but well-loved, no doubt.

Emphoa Emphoa (Adamaris) Jet Jet (Darius)
 
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The musician watched as Dante did his best to sell the establishment to Vixie. Despite him having spent the last few weeks partaking in a lot of what went on here, Nihal would have preferred if Dante left Vixie out of it. Then again, maybe it'd be okay if she enjoyed some of the food they had here and maybe just a few sips of wine. Childhood innoncence often went unappreciated when it was there and longed for after it was gone.

He raised a brow as Dante once again started addressing in, regaling him with a story about how he almost had a dance with a certain famous singer. Nyaall tried his best to recall. He wouldn't have forgotten a face as beautiful as this man's, but he couldn't exactly conclude he was bullshitting. Any public appearance he had made had been calculated, methodical, and ran like clockwork. With how rushed and stressed he imagined he had felt at the time, it made sense that he wasn't able to take a good look around at his surroundings.

The cat boy let out a chuckle at the innuendo before shooting a slightly guilty glance at Vixie. As they continued down the seemingly endless halls, the beautiful art and sculptures caught his attention from the corner of his eye, but his gaze never left Dante.

He gave a smirk when "realization" finally hit. "Nope. You got the wrong guy," he played along. "I'm actually not a big fan. He's talented, and I'm sure he's a great guy, but his music is too... manufactured, you know? There's nothing genuine there. It's all just created to sell and top charts." Well, it seemed he was telling Dante how he really felt.

Once they arrived at the room, Nihal gazed around at the walls and bookshelves. Were there any sort of cameras or recording devices? He then looked at the other clientele. They seemed to mostly be keeping to themselves or had their nose in a book. Good. They would hopefully have some privacy here.

He turned to Vixie as she exclaimed her excitement. And she was comfortable here as well. Perfect. As she eyed him, he gave her a friendly gaze and smiled. "Let me know if you find anything good," he said, motioning over to the wall of literature with his head. If she stepped away, he would turn his gaze back to Dante. "And why don't we take a seat?" He gently took the other's hand and led him over to one of the love seats.

Once they had been situated, he took a moment to think while maintaining a comforting smile. How would he get into this? Surely asking him if he was being trafficked and exploited would startle him, right? "So... where are you from? What brings you here?"

Lost Echo Lost Echo Jet Jet
 
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"Heart." Tawny tapped his chest. "Not engine, but not man."

He wished he could give a more complete answer, but he couldn't scan himself like other machines. He knew his heart wasn't human though. When he opened himself he saw muscle and metal and bars instead of bones, and his heart was a mixture of both. He sometimes wished he was normal instead of what he was. Not a monster but a real kid with a real family, not an old man who adopted him at twelve.

"Family," he mumbled to her. "Means a home."

He didn't have one of those elusive things, only a room in a house that wasn't his, in a town very far from home. He wished he could walk in her shoes for one day. To know what family and love and home actually felt like, instead of the dreary existence he endured.

"I want to find family, find home." He didn't even know where to look, but he planned on leaving soon. To travel the world looking for the woman in his dreams. The redhead with green eyes. He saw her beside a window looking out on a city, church bells rang and the smell of food was in the air. He felt connected in that moment. The feeling of being where he belonged, but he didn't even know where to start.

"Not sure where," he said with a small frown. "But will find one day."

In the other room, Isaac mirrored the furrowing of brows. He wasn't sure what would happen if the tribe attacked his town, but he didn't think they would. He had an agreement with the high priest of Kratoria, an honorable man with immense, nearly unmatched power. If the Atsali attacked he'd crack down with righteous fury, decimating the tribe for generations to come.

"Don't worry yourself with that eventuality. I've a long standing agreement with the High Priest of Kratoria. He holds sway over the hundred tribes."

"You see, the villagers are of Kratorian blood. If the Atsali attacked there would surely be deaths, innocent lives caught in the crossfire. The high priest wouldn't stand for it."

"But if they attacked anyway—

"I'd order an evacuation. There'd be too much bloodshed if we stood our ground, too many innocents lost in battle." He glanced at the floor below them. There was a hatch hidden by the boards. "Tunnels stretch below the city like roots, I've oft thought of them as an escape route, though they pose their own dangers."

"You must follow us if an attack happens, taking your ship would be a death sentence. The Atsali are fearsome sky fighters and for the one you met — I have reason to believe he killed a centurion in the air."

ManofManyRoles ManofManyRoles
 
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Brynwyr Protheroe

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A quick water break for Esther and her familiar, and she finally answered as to her state.

“Take your time,” Brynwyr insisted to her as she helped Rhys to his feet. Still, her words held merit. They didn’t know what else lurked in these parts, and how dangerous they really were. It would be unwise to stay in one place for too long. “We’ll cover you where magic is concerned. You’ve done plenty for us already,” she reassured, starting to walk alongside the others and Rhys.

Rhys managed to sidestep the odd looking rock, looking at it before continuing on. His lips twisted a little as Spivey claimed the creatures of this jungle would be more afraid of them than they were afraid of them. “I doubt it, given this is their home…” He mumbled. He felt the familiar soft nudge of Brynwyr’s familiar, Cleonard, against his hand. He scratched his head, and smiled at the low, satisfied growl that rumbled from him.

Brynwyr would take every precaution, and that meant releasing her familiar. Plus, he thrashed enough in his pouch that it was better to let him out and stretch his legs. She caught Spivey’s muttering, something about surviving this first. She heard their breathing grow more laboured, no doubt restricting them in this humidity. She wondered why they wouldn’t just take off all those layers if the heat was getting to them.

They followed along the riverbank, both Brynwyr and Rhys at the back keeping an eye out and Cleonard keeping his own eyes and ears open to their surrounding environment.

Rhys decided he couldn’t stick the silence between them all, and directed a question toward Spivey. “Um, I don’t believe you’ve told us about your familiar. You haven’t had them out at all.” Petrie crawled out from under Rhys’s collar as if to reiterate the fact she had not been out for quite some time.
 
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Baryn watched the two ladies with an increasingly fed up expression began to creep on his face, first Euclaire poking him and ranting without a point, and next Tessia turning down any and all offers of help. At this point he was reminded that women were more emotional than men usually, which explained things. Still the irrationallity of it all was absurd to him. "If she didn't feel the pain she'd likely be passed out." He muttered to himself shaking his head at Tessia's blank expression.

"Well have fun walking then. Don't die if we leave you behind." Baryn said with a shrug, at this point he didn't care if she died, ok that was a lie it would be a shame to lose a beauty, but at this point saving his own skin was far more important than dealing with a stubborn woman acting like a child. Also endurance wasn't what was important at the moment, speed was considering the size, strength, and inherent endurance of the giant creature. She then went on about relationships which brought up old memories he'd rather be without. "You're not the only one whose had to experience that sort of fame and issues with relationships? Also you do realize now's not the best time to talk about that sort of thing right? We're all one monster away from death in unknown land. I'm no fighter so I'm not going to act tough like I'm all that when I need help, that's for you to do it seems." He huffed ready to leave her for dead. "Alright well get on Euclaire, it's time to be off." Baryn said waiting for her to get on, ready to bound off to find the others, safety in numbers and all that. Was this cold and uncaring? Perhaps. Did he care anymore about that? Absolutely not, she was acting like all that, so she could survive and prove her point, admit she needed help, or die. Her choice. He already had to live on for all the members in his band that had died... and their recent deaths weren't helping him keep a stable mood either.

Jet Jet Monbon Monbon
 
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Zulan calmly watched the situation in the room explode. Charlie & their guide answered the man in the rooms questions regarding Kwame and the crowd to which Zulan nodded along. Honeslty wouldn't be too hard for him to survive here should everything fail, wouldn't be his first time behind enemy lines like this. Still wouldn't be ideal all things considered he mused to himself.

Zulan being generally honest and forthright with those he considered allies, decided perhaps admitting the truth would help defuse the situation some. "You're rather cute when you're angry." He remarked with a grin seeing her puffed cheeks. He recalled something about OODA loops from training, causing the person to have to reorient themself with the situation after a new observation of something out of the ordinary, before deciding what to do next and then acting upon said decision. Ideally this would put her through one, though he wasn't lying either.

"I have either misheard or misunderstood you and I'm sorry for that. I'm not talking to you like you're any lesser in any way, in fact I rather value the opinion of someone experienced with streets like these and a fellow martial artist. So I will apologize once more if it came across like that, I had no intentions of doing so. It's no excuse but I've been paying most of my attention till now watching Kilderkin considering something is just off about them. Now that we're away from direct chaos and the potential rat, I will make sure you and the others have my full attention." He said with an earnest smile as admitting one's mistakes usually helped. He really did want to be on the right foot with his teammates.

Jet Jet ManofManyRoles ManofManyRoles Lost Echo Lost Echo
 
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Ivan's earnest remarks were treated as arrogance someone younger than himself, she cast judgement without knowledge, as he too was a soldier of the north similarlyraised, a very foolish decision in his own experience, though all had faults and made mistakes. All he wanted was to help his people stop the civil war and this mission was slowing that down. Patience and the Lord's timing before his own, but impatience was hard to stop as so many died every day. It was at this time Mavior stepped up, figuratively. Mavior seemed to think he was competing about skills or abilities, he was not, at least not intentionally. He wanted to explain how he was capable for the task. The man went on to acknowledge the threats the lady spoke of before going on to say her wariness wasn't unfounded. Though he went on to say that they couldn't leave and asked for help to stop the atrocities. Should she still refuse the man asked to buy the seal coats nonetheless.

"I come from Byzantine and the Scandinavian west, I know of what you speak and have experienced it myself just as you." He remarked but said nothing else after, he hunted many a criminal through the frozen and barren north. Still he must curb his pride to finish the mission. The seal skins would be of help to the others more than himself as he would have to stay merged with his familiar, though outside of the merge it would be helpful. Zak however was incredulous at using old school ships. Which then brought another bout of insults and doubting words. Ivan was truly starting to miss Byzantine at this point. "In the north it is still common for using ships, even in Byzantine. She is right." He remarked. He wasn't a sailors by Amy means but he grew up around them so he wasn't entirely ignorant. He couldn't help but nod at Zak's comment regarding the view, the rest was questionable.

At this point he couldn't help but agree with Arnheid, he himself unsure if thr endeavor was brave or foolish. She then called upon old gods of thr Norse people. He wasn't going to comment, a religious battle or debate now would be of no help. However at her offer of aid he was grateful. "Thank you, and I swear on the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit that I will do so. I made an oath to help others in the past, and I renew it here before you now." He stated with fervor.
Jet Jet ManofManyRoles ManofManyRoles
 
Faraji Aguta
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Mentions: Goliath Goliath Jet Jet

Faraji shrunk under the gaze of the hag, eyeing them up and ready to suck the marrow dry from their bones. He wondered if all those myths and fairytales were as fictional as the adults who told them claimed. But they were apparently spared from being considered delectable snacks, for now.

But their time would come.

The hag’s came right then, and in a most willing, bloody manner.

And then the hag turned, rambling some cultish scripture, revering the altar. Faraji could do little but watch the scene and only seemed to jolt back into the present when he saw the sacred knife move through the shadow. He put his hand forward as the woman grabbed her ear. “W-wait--!”

He stumbled back as he watched the blood flow freely down her neck, hardly a wince or a whimper from her. He hadn’t the moment to be physically sick at the sight, not while something crawled out of the painting of the beautiful woman and lunged straight into the hag’s mouth. It was nothing like he ever saw before, ever thought to imagine. It transcended any myth or fairytale or scary story to put children in their place.

Adrian claimed he never saw anything like this before. ‘No shit. I’d be surprised if you did!’ Faraji did not have the will to speak these words aloud, too aghast and horrified by the sight. His jaw would have been hanging open, but seeing the way that thing crawled into the hag’s mouth, he opted to keep it sealed.

Faraji cringed at the volume of the shadow bouncing in his head, the old woman a puppet for her means now. More rhymes and riddles.

Something to take.

Someone to kill.

Someone to lose.

It wasn’t difficult to match up which requirement to who, and Faraji stiffened. He swallowed back fear. He didn’t understand what it meant, what this creature wanted from them, and yet, had a fair idea all the same. But he had to wonder what Adrian was to take, who Goliath had to kill, if that was indeed the order of things they were dealing with.

Faraji did not want to wonder who he had to lose. The mention of Casimir was no coincidence, not alongside this. He did not want to play a game that they would inevitably lose.

“And if we don’t sustain you,” Faraji had stepped back as she had stepped toward them, as if retreat was still a tempting option hanging on the edge of the table, “what will happen then? Will you maim, kill us perhaps? What exactly is it of us that you need? Why are we so different from that woman who gave herself to you?”
 
Adamaris let out a breath, and they knew that they doubted them- but it didn't allow them to falter. They knew they had to do this, and they would make it out alive- they had to alongside Elriel at the very least. They would have it no other way after all of this time. Their eyes flitted over to their white haired friend while they listened to both Darius and Magnus. It didn't make them shrink back- because after all this time, they knew that times were hard- they knew that this would not be easy, they understood the risks and they were more than willing to take them all.

For Elriel.

Their eyes flitted over to their white haired friend, who they admired the strength of when he spoke with such confidence. They couldn't help the gentle smile that tugged at their lips, and their eyes fixated back onto Magnus. "Elriel is right, we understand- every risk, everything we're putting on the line. We will not disappoint you- we will surprise you." Adamaris insisted, and they placed a hand over their chest before they looked back at Elriel, searching his expression for just a few moments before they would speak up once more.

"I'm sure she will take care of us, she's already seen what such a journey will do." They puffed out, and their eyes trailed onto the ship, slowly walking in more before their eyes settled onto Darius. "Should we group up with the others, then? I'm sure will we have much to discuss with one another." They admitted, and they looked back over towards Elriel when they stated this as well. Would the others wish to make such a journey? Would they lose some of them? Or others who would stay behind? They didn't know them well enough to be able to say, and they let out a breath as they awaited their answers.

Jet Jet Goliath Goliath
 
"I wouldn't say it's exactly attractive to have an obsession like this." Rat spoke up, and his eyebrows furrowed tighter at the thought of it before he lifted his head up to look back at Mischa. Watching her as she leaned over his shoulder when he read the book and he puffed out as he looked back at the two of them with his eyebrows furrowed even deeper. Relaxing when she squeezed his shoulders, and he couldn't help but sigh a little bit, looking over when Leon mentioned the mattress and he scrunched his nose a little bit before he snorted. "Well I'm glad I'm not getting under there. Despite the rat title, I do prefer to keep clean." He huffed out a moment after, tucking the book under one of his arms while he listened to them chat and he clicked his tongue.

"Why, Miss Mischa, wouldn't it be you?" He teased, his eyes twinkling lightly before he looked back at Leon and sobered up, briefly, the thought of looking for the woman was a good one- in fact, honestly, it would be his next move. He wouldn't think of anything better than to search what information the woman herself might have had. "... I think that would be the best next step." He finally spoke up and he brushed his fingers through his hair while his eyes narrowed a fraction and he looked back at Leon. "Especially since we can bring and fill in the others, or they can tell us whatever they've found." He admitted, taking a few moments as his mind seemed to whirl with thoughts.

"It might be best to see what the other's think, too, especially with this journal and... The obsession." The magitech engineer gestured to the walls of the room, it still left such an eerie feeling that seemed to crawl right up his spine. "So- Mischa, finding anything interesting in there?" He finally decided to try and not focus on the odd situation they seemed to be finding themselves into. His eyes trailing back over to the red head as he placed a hand on his hip. "'Sides, I think anything more and Dalton might have to bite his tongue for the state we were in this morning." He laughed lightly at the thought, shaking his head as he glanced away. "... Or at the very least, it makes him a little less angry with us."

Jet Jet Goliath Goliath
 
The young woman glanced over at Kilderkin when she spoke about her ability, and Eva gave a nod of her head. "Yes, unfortunately it comes at the cost of not being able to bend the earth, but I find that it's allowed me more opportunities with metal- I would never complain about the odd trajectory my element has taken." She huffed out, and her eyes twinkled lightly at the thought as she reguarded the other woman, nodding in agreement as she looked back ahead. "... Perhaps it could be a toss of the dice- but it's a risk I'm willing to put myself in, and I will fight the entire way- no matter what end awaits me."

Evaline was quiet, briefly, while Kwame spoke with Kilderkin, it wasn't her right to interject, after all. They seemed to have a sort of history that she was not privy to. Nor did she expect to be so. Her eyes and focus merely on the end of the tunnel, instead, trying to make sure that they would not find some unwelcoming surprise waiting for them. But then, the large man spoke directly to her, her eyes flickering a moment as she was questioned about her motives- why she was doing this. A red head popped into her mind, and she pursed her lips together tightly... About to answer when the sound of another's voice pierced the air and her eyes snapped forward.

Before even she could take action- Kwame acted first, piercing the man without another thought, and silencing him. A risk, that she realized, was one they had to take- a loss that had to be suffered in order for them to be able to move forward. She was quiet, another life lost right in front of her life when just before the games she had never had to see it. She shut her eyes tightly before she looked back over. "Kilderkin is right, it had to be done." She stated, quietly, before her eyebrows furrowed a moment after. She was right, they would have to hide the body- if the tunnel could be collapsed it would be best to hide their traces, and hide that they had come through here.

"It would be best- I think, if you can collapse the entirety of the tunnel, it would help to hide our traces at least that much more." The blacksmith admitted as she looked back at the two. "Realistically, we could seal the entrance, but it would be worth much more to leave as little evidence as possible." She let out a breath, trying to calm the quaking emotions that swirled within her chest and she pursed her lips together. The sight of Kilderkin able to control the body so easily, was almost daunting- but she didn't let herself dwell over the fact long. "We could place the body inside, unless you have other plans, Kilderkin." Evaline stated and her blue gaze settled carefully back onto the other woman.

Jet Jet Fred Colon Fred Colon
 
Yua Smith
ユア・スミス


Not an engine, but not a man...well that wasn't necessarily a helpful description at all. Though the more he spoke, the more she couldn't help but feel sympathetic to his situation. Sure her parents were constantly absent...but she still had parents. Heck, Felix was practically family to her in every regard, she treated him like it more than her butler at any rate. She couldn't fathom having...nothing. No home, no family, nothing....that sounded awful. She reached out, a metal hand grasping his own and giving his hand a little squeeze. "Hey...Mister Isaac is like family or home, isn't he? Or at least a friend who's there for you?" Very bold of her to assume any of that, but he seemed so melancholy she had to offer something to try to brighten him up. "And if not...I'm sure you'll find those things one day, Tawny. Just stay optimistic, okay? I know you'll get through this. You seem like someone who deserves good things in your life...I'm sure you'll find these things."

Meanwhile, Felix had paused into a long silence as he pondered Isaac's insight. They had good words and faith with a high priest, which was well and good...but being prepared for the worst case scenerio was always a wise option. "I see. Well, Mister Isaac, if worst comes to worst, I would assist you and your people in any way Miss Smith saw fit. Though, I admit, my duty above all else is to Miss Smith. Fortunately, her goals will no doubt coincide with your own. The ship would be an unfortunate loss, but it would not be irreplaceable. I've no desire to fight in the air, I am more comfortable on the ground where I am of better use. The warrior we met earlier...I have no delusion I could defeat him in battle, at best I could stall him while you all had to escape. In the air, I would not be able to do such a thing. And, I admit, I'd prefer not even doing such."
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Jet Jet
 
Charlie Redding
There was a chance, perhaps, that saying something out of left field would be enough to defuse most people. Short-circuit the gray matter and make them have to double take, or even get flustered in the more bashful's case. Charlie wasn't most people. No sooner had the words of 'you're cute' left his mouth did Charlie level a glare on Zulan, fist tightening at her side and temple throbbing. Growing up in Macragge meant she was used to hearing out of pocket shite...and if the conversation was a bomb to be defused, Zulan cut the wrong wire. "Cute, yeah? Well I'll be god damn fucking adorable when I ram my fist up your ass you shite! Then you cal tell me how fucken' 'cute' I am with your new perspective as a god-damn muppet!" For just a moment it seemed like Charlie would make good on her threat and follow through, the mission could consider itself dead on arrival. However there was a long and slow exhale, Charlie letting herself go to that little happy space in her mind. She imagined herself beneath the warm sun and on her family soil, her kid sister talking to her about whatever new hobby she picked up to keep herself busy and ignore the quiet of the outback...one more slooow exhale. She relaxed tightened muscles, rolled her shoulders...she was fine, she could feed him his own tongue later if necessary, they had to focus. "'Kildi' might be fucken' off, but payin' attention to the entire picture is important in this environment. Ya gotta keep your eyes above ya, behind ya, in front of ya, and to the sides. We could get our shit ran from any blasted direction in a place like this, so for the love of everything divine start payin' attention. I ain't gonna puff myself up and say I know every aspect of this blasted island, cause I don't. But I at least know how to survive in the middle of a hellhoole situation, so keep it up, yeah?" The venom in Charlie's voice had been reigned in a bit, and her comentary was punctuated with a little coo from Pitt at her shoulder, the familiar now slowly circling the room as it flew from one place to the next. Her attention moved to the smith, giving him a firm nod. "Sorry 'bout losin' the ol' temper mate, ain't exactly the most gracious showin' when ya let us in here."
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Jet Jet Lost Echo Lost Echo EldridSmith EldridSmith rozukitsune rozukitsune
 

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