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Multiple Settings The Overseer Project

MIRIAM

I've heard that before... Miriam was a bit taken aback as Kira began reciting Scripture to her, but her expression softened as she listened. This woman was too kind to someone like her, but Miri wasn't so foolish to reject her outright. As Kira lifted a hand toward Miriam, she reached out hesitantly and gently rested hers atop the others. "I may not follow any Scripture and I may not believe it possible to help me," She met Kira's gaze and smiled, "But I will let you be my light, dearest."

Convincing herself it was because Kira was merely a reminder of someone she once cared for, Miriam gave her Overseer's hand a gentle squeeze before letting go. Not even a few moments later a long-haired man entered the room. He had a certain aura that made the hair on the back of Miriam's neck stand on end, and the second she saw his clothes she figured out why. "Executioner." She snarled, glaring at the man despite the unease she felt.

“This one is no normal man. He could easily crush any, if not all of us, if we’re not careful."

Miriam huffed, looking him up and down with a scowl, "I'm sure he could." She muttered, rolling her eyes before raising her voice, "But not with an outfit like that. Those are your work clothes? Do they hate you that much? Unless this was your decision, in which case- Do you hate yourself?" Miriam's brow was raised as she looked him over a third time. She had no idea who this man was, but she didn't appreciate the way that atrocious outfit brought back certain memories she had worked so hard to bury.
YOUR GODDESS


TheImmortalDeity TheImmortalDeity simj26 simj26
 
Kamari Todd​

Her criminal shuffling her way to her gave her no comfort. How well that shackle would work was dependent on how intelligently this one could hide its effects. If there was one thing she hated to admit it was that the criminal assigned under her care was intelligent. If she really was involved with manufacturing… well they might have met on the other side of the law if not for the illegal nature of this one’s past.

As their eyes met Kamari’s narrowed. She had nothing in her sight but her Criminal ready to rip out its throat if the woman made even the slightest attempt against her even as she felt the oppressive aura begin to step to them. Clearly her criminal did not share these sentiments as the womans attention turned. She noted that, it would be an issue if her attention was lost due to fear of all things.

But the woman turning was for the best as Kamari’s hand trembled feeling as though a spectre of death itself loomed over the room. She slapped it still with her other before slowly turning her whole body to the approaching presence.

An Executionor was in the house?

Disgusting, but she supposed the fact that they were not all on the ground meant that at least for now their handler had use for them all. Orders were orders though and the quicker they received them the quicker they could leave this man behind.

“Being the first to report inevitably leaves you with less information. Listen, absorb, and when the time is right we grab our position and strike from the shadows.”

If this was to be her personal weapon she would need to train it well and teach it that strategy was always needed. Yet to tell it that she would not trust even her peers was more information that could be used as a knife against her should the tool go rogue. An extension of herself should need only the information required to fufil its task.

“When the Executioner is in the room do well to keep your voice low as a mouse. The only one you are required to communicate with is myself. Other overseers and criminals are fair game but do not speak to one above myself.”

Mistborn Mistborn TheImmortalDeity TheImmortalDeity
 

"It appears some of you have the energy to keep flapping your gums," the Executioner replied with a biting retort. "This will be your first and final warning," his bleak words addressed everyone in the room, "don't waste my time."

Solomon pulled on the cuffs of his robe, palming a gadget tucked away in its depths. Click. From above, one of the white panels layering the ceiling opened like a hatch, a cubical contraption lowering from its maw. Aliyah and Kamari immediately recognized it as a projector, though its wiring suggested it possessed another, more aggressive, secondary purpose. As for now, it acted as intended, a quick flicker fluctuating on its lens before sending a holographic overlay in the space between the group and the Executioner.

The image was a three-dimensional rendering of Lumani City. The map revealed the entire metropolitan area, from the rising skylines of the inland Uptown to the makeshift hovels littering Downtown's shoreline. A red circular marker encompassed most of Downtown's border, indicating a generalized area. This highlighted zone was where the team's first task would take place.

With great displeasure, Solomon forced himself to speak, pushing out one last long-winded sigh. "Today is Lumani City's Port Festival, a day that marks the cultural appreciation between the city and its subaqueous neighbor, Salta Maria," he said, his monotonous description not matching the supposedly enthusiastic pamphlet he read. "The D.P.S. has received numerous reports of civilian distress throughout Downtown." A scarred finger lazily hovered over the marker, tapping the air above it.

"Your first task is as follows: find the root cause of the disturbance and expunge it from the area." Solomon then pulled his hand away, the arm once again disappearing under his fancy garment. "Due to the situation's urgency, withhold all questions until we arrive on site," he continued, his impatience sounding more like an excuse to avoid further interaction with his charge rather than caring for the town and its residents.

"Let's go."

---​

Solomon led the party through the Department of Public Security's headquarters. The path he chose appeared calculated, the entourage never encountering a new face as they nonsensically traversed each corridor, like ducklings blindly chasing after their mother. The lingering sensation of fear and discomfort followed after them, the archaic serpent catching Chunks' periphery as they walked. It continued to coil around the inmates, its elongated body tensing and releasing around their necks periodically, ready to strike.

Eventually, they happened across the final chamber. A single automated door separated them from their past and the long journey presented before them. For the criminals, it was their first step back into the city that abandoned them. For the Overseers, it was their first step into bearing the responsibilities the city entrusted them. It was a momentous occasion for everyone, save for Solomon.

With the Executioner pressing one last button, the door opened, and a cold gust of air rushed to meet the newly formed squad. Unlike the picturesque scenery one might think they'd see upon their first departure, the associates only saw a large, heavily fortified wall obscuring their view. This barrier — composed of advanced machinery and littered with soldiers patrolling the perimeter — gave off the air of a citadel rather than an official government building.

Along the horizon, right above where the wall ended, everyone saw the tips of Uptown's illustrious skyscrapers poking from a distance. The finest architecture that Lumani City had to offer. Their gloriousness was something to behold, reaching heights thought physically impossible, achieved so the affluent bigwigs could feel superior while looking down at the ants beneath their capitalistic foot.

Above even them, however, was a spotless starry sky. The dazzling lights of Lumani's Uptown didn't hold a candle to the celestial sphere that encapsulated the world's beauty. An untouched heaven still unmarked by the planet's corruption. The last remnant of purity in an otherwise sinful world.

Solomon, looking to this very sky, clicked his tongue in annoyance. "They're late."
 

On cue, a distant chatter arose near the headquarter's front gates. It began as a small back-and-forth between the border control and the driver of an unidentified vehicle. Then, it became louder. The discussion turned into yelling. The yelling turned into screams.

HONK HONK. HONK HONK.

A large, armored truck came barreling down, crashing through the barricaded entrance effortlessly. It looked more like a tank, its outer shell coated in a sleek metallic grey sheen. Aliyah, with her extensive knowledge of the material, recognized the plate armor consisted of Crimson Tear alloy, the rare metal encasing the entirety of the vehicle's frame.

Contrary to its bulky appearance, it was fast. Its ten wheels raced across the courtyard with surprising speed. Its engine, roaring with life, showed no signs of stopping, the clamor of the machine's horn sounding more like a taunt than a safety precaution. It took little time for the group to realize the truck was heading straight for them.

HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONK.

With one last blow of its horn, the massive death box on wheels began to brake, each of its tires screeching as it skidded across the concrete below. Forty feet, thirty ... twenty ... ten. It barely stopped before Solomon, inches away from slamming him into a mush. Oddly enough, he looked unperturbed, if not expectant.

Loud death metal blasted from the radio as the driver seat's door slammed open. For a spell, nothing happened. Then, a small figure emerged from the confines of the truck's cab, daintily stepping down from the hulking carrier.

"Yahello!"

A cheery voice called out to them. It was a girl. She had platinum blonde hair that reached down her back, straightened to the point that it appeared synthetic. Her eyes, a dark carmine hue, joyfully scanned the crowd, looking past each individual rather than directly at them. A mischievous grin stained her otherwise pretty face, the girl knowing well what trouble she caused.

Her garments were similar to Commissioner Ryker's. However, she wore a heavily adjusted military uniform. The outfit was a single piece, where the torso hugged closely to her body, and the lower part flowed out into a skirt. Most of it was black with a red band diagonally stretching across its chest, the design starting from her right shoulder and ending at her waist. Golden shoulder guards adorned either side, the same pattern running down the backside of her military regalia. To finish her style, she wore high heels, which clicked with her every step.

She took the military cap off her head, the crest of a golden lion brazenly imprinted on the front for all to view. The girl bowed, using enough force to wonder if she'd tip over. "Sorry that I'm late! It's just that these losers here wouldn't let me through, no matter what I told them!"

Raising her head and jabbing a thumb at the increasing number of troops behind her, she rolled her eyes. "So what if I forgot my identification? Shouldn't I be, like, in the records or something?" she huffed. That was when numerous red dots appeared all over her body, multiple weapons aimed to kill.

Solomon waved his hand. There was a pause as hesitance filled the air. Then, slowly, the weapons were lowered.

"She's with me," he explained abruptly. "Let me deal with her."

They nodded without any fuss, leaving to continue their work.

Solomon's hand went to the bridge of his nose, gently massaging his scar. "Care to introduce yourself?" he then asked, stealing a tired glance at the girl.

"Oh, right! Almost forgot." She twirled on her toes, now facing the others directly. She raised her hand, holding up two fingers in a V-shape.

"My name's Conductah. Nice to meetcha!"

"It's Conductor," Solomon corrected.

"Yeah, that's what I said, Salami."

Silence. Then more silence. The continuous twitch in Solomon's eye made it evident that he was doing all he could to restrain himself from beating the girl into a pulp.

"Just ... " He shook his head, turning to the group. "Get in. We're leaving. Now."
 
KiraAs they walked behind the Executioner, Kira was quick to attempt to extol the virtues of NOT commenting on someone's choice of attire, especially someone like Executioner Solomon, to her attached Criminal, making her voice just loud enough that Solomon could hear her attempt to dissuade Miriam from further disparaging the man. She had also taken care to keep her thoughts to herself about how Miriam had spoken the truth. Sometimes, the truth just didn't need to be said.




As they stepped outside of the facility, out back into the night air, they were met by a most deafening din of an armored vehicle arriving, and their driver.

A vein popped in her temple, it felt like. It wasn’t that she had not met loud and annoying people before. Her family, now no longer, had been loud and annoying. Some of the members of the gang she followed after, they had been loud and annoying. No, what truly made her grind her teeth and almost bite her tongue was the excessive optimism that bordered on blinding that exuded from the Conductor. What did she have to be so happy about? What kind of secrets did she hold to be so irritatingly chipper? What broken psyche lay behind those eyes?

Try as she might, Kira could not keep the scowl from her face.

She rubbed her temples, and exhaled slowly. She could pray for patience. She could pray for strength and wisdom. She could know that neither of these prayers were worth anything. Her duty lay with her Criminal, and her alone. Crushing what ailed the populace was also her duty as a Panel. Neither of these involved tolerating the Conductor's attitude.

“Miriam,” she turned towards her Criminal, a hand held out towards the truck. “After you.”

angel doe angel doe TheImmortalDeity TheImmortalDeity
 






"Chunks"
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  • Mentioned
    Overseer Fiznes de Lurario ( Eteri Eteri ), Soloman and Conductah ( TheImmortalDeity TheImmortalDeity )


    Location
    Department of Public Security HQ

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"Consider yourself one to sacrifice the weak?" A hiss, a shift, the rustle of clothing as Fiznes took a step back to stand beside his assigned pair. His body turned slightly to keep both an eye on both the Executioner and Chunks. Moments like this made him wish he had been born with more than two eyeballs. Proper care was another matter, though. "Great. You'll live longer than most."¹

As Fiznes moved and flowed beside the prisoner, Chunks watched the arcane serpent that intertwined with tentacles and tendrils, still as of yet unseen. Discomforting was certainly one way to put a thing that no other could notice, as the figure bound to such an ancient thing barked at them to settle and follow. It was peculiar to watch a chained hound demand others follow orders, but the hand holding their leash was the threat- and he wanted it to stay on the leash, not grab himself.

So without further delay, he followed along without word- silence was his defense at this point, as there was no certainty his brand could survive this type of fight- a contract broken would also be difficult for him to establish once more. The Hound brought them outside, into moonlight- a shame it wasn't closer to dusk. Meanwhile, the woman with the horned lass managed to berate and try to start a squabble with the hound- only to be shut down by Scribbles. Good on her, the Hound seemed ready to shred rebelling flesh apart, and it was not difficult to see that an unknown attack would devastate their group. But through the gloom brought by false stars came a carriage driven by a small being, who held a tune akin to, well, kin.

"A sister to some here in menace and mischief, y'feel? Least, probably too much silver to keep her bound and not helpin' out the situations about," he spoke with a low voice to his overseer, his star-like head drifting amidst the clouds of an ancient eel that twisted through flesh, metal, and bone. But aboard the the carriage he was demanded to go, and so forth he went into a blasted explosive box.






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Djerba​
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While the other Inmates and Overseers busied themselves with small talk during their lengthy meander throughout the CCF's back halls, Djerba remained mostly silent. They moved as a pack of herded animals, kept under tight watch by a shepherd who would see them slaughtered without so much as the bat of his eyes, but even still, the autonomy to do so much as move her legs from one room to the next was one was a freedom that she enjoyed, so deprived of it as she had been in Coldwater.

Even while the Overseers and other Inmates engaged in small talk between one another, Djerba remained silent throughout the trip. She padded along silently and deliberately, her attentions moving from one sign of life within the CCF's utilitarian maze of hallways to the next. Like fabric catching on stray splinters of wood, her eyes were snagged by each faded poster and notice that they came across. To her, such a mundane thing was an alien sight. The walls of her cell had been unchanging, still faces of stone upon which nothing found purchase. No matter how many years she had spent rotting in there, she had made no mark. On the day she'd been thrown into it and on the day she'd been pulled out, it sat no different.

As the trudged onward even the air itself shifted. The conditioned stillness of the inner complex faded, and a chill bite began to bristle across her skin. With each step, the oppressive dread that the Executioner exuded slipped further into the back of Djerba's mind, replaced by an eagerness which she couldn't quite put her finger on the name of. Her pace quickened, and by the time that the group was passing through the facility's entrance, she had pressed herself near to the front of the pack.

Her eyes, though, were not fixed forward. The future, the new beginning that all of them had been offered, was invisible to her. Instead her was cast long and far into the horizon. Up and over the walls that surrounded the CCF facility, deep into the nebulaic swathes of light and undaunted black which blanketed the night skies. Practically frozen where she stood, Djerba took a long, deep breath, allowing what felt like buckets of frigid night air to spill into her lungs, one after the next.

This was the first time she'd seen the sky. It was the first time she'd felt this chill embrace, too.

And yet, it all felt so terribly familiar.

"Like home..." She muttered under her breath, her voice muffled by the oncoming honking of Conductor's arrival. The following commotion that filled the courtyard brought her back to her senses, and as quickly as that sense of familiarity had taken her, it was gone. She turned her attention to the new, dry-scented arrival, and offered the peculiar woman a small nod, before stepping into the bus.

"This... Would be how we'll be seen to our tasks, then?" Djerba spoke to nobody in particular, curiosity in her voice. She wasn't particularly keen on the idea. With how cramped the bus's interior was, she couldn't help but be reminded of her cell.

TheImmortalDeity TheImmortalDeity
 

Step. Step. Step.

Em found itself listening to the mild echo of footfalls around it, their hodgepodge band of miscreants being led by no other than the illustrious Executioner Solomon, as Em recently learned to address them. As each corridor in the Department of Public Security's HQ gave way — the endless span of distance feeling longer with each turn — Em's mind succumbed to idle thoughts. Something the Overseer often did during banal moments such as this.

What troubles would befall them on their first mission with this new group? Looking at each criminal and their respective officer, Em doubted their cohesion. It knew, sooner or later, that the plague of doubt and betrayal was bound to get to them. Fear, after all, is a disease that eats away at logic and turns even the most civilized man into nothing more than a beast. Did that, then, make Solomon their vaccine? If it could, Em would've chuckled at the allusions it made. Alas, it could not.

Nearing the building's exit and having the entrance door suddenly open its hatch, the crisp breeze of Lumani City's gloom washed over them. It felt nice, all things considered, the gentle sting on its scarcely exposed skin allowing Em to feel a rush of life fill its body. A misty cloud formed from its hot breath, escaping under its mask as the frigid air clung to it. Quite the night for a festival, Em thought.

The Conductor's arrival answered its opinion promptly. From the zeal in her words to the malicious helpfulness in her actions, Em tilted its brimmed hat down to avoid making eye contact. Some things were too bright to look at directly—the thought of exchanging discourse with this entity felt arduous at best.

It then peered at Djerba from under its hat, the woman's words reaching its ears.

"It seems so," it replied, following her into the bus. The interior was spacious, leaving ample room for the ten individuals to sit on the metal benches it provided with minimal discomfort and still allowing space for more to join them, if they so wished. The front seats, where the driver controlled the machine, were openly available for passengers to enter, much like a cockpit in an aerial craft. Various buttons and mechanisms littered the control room, blinking and beeping in a complex fashion far beyond Em's understanding. Though available, Em noted the obvious frame partitioning the cargo from its pilot. It appeared that, in a pinch, a heavy door could separate them at any given moment.

It sat down closest to the exit doors, likely in preparation for unforeseen circumstances. Em pat the seat beside it, insinuating for its inmate to sit. It then shifted slightly to make extra room.

"So," it began to speak softly, "how is it? Your first taste of freedom, I mean." It turned its head to face Djerba, the visible aspects of its face unchanging. "Is it everything you hoped it would be?"
 
Sato Sarganach
Tags: November Witch November Witch TheImmortalDeity TheImmortalDeity​


c841aKM.png
Savory? That threw Sato for a loop. She scrunched her eyes and scratched her head. She made some kind of contemplating noise. "I think I saw chocolate-covered bacon bits somewhere in the bag..." Sato swiped through a singular layer of candy before sighing. "I give up. Sorry. You will eat chocolate," she said, as if it were a command more than a statement. "But..." For once, her expression shifted. Her lips flipped into a tiny smile. "I think this is a good start."

Then Solomon snapped back with his ever important orders. The situation wasn't anything she hadn't heard before; a hundred years with humans and a dad like hers made it sound like the norm. Still, dutiful as Sato was, she much preferred this job over staying home. She had Fernsby take her behind Hellia, and she motioned for the prisoner to move along. In the meantime, Sato yawned and took a nap in the wendigo's arm...

And she promptly woke up from the wendigo's alarm: rapidly poking her face. It was just in time for the next part of the briefing, and the Conductah's very dramatic entrance. Sato thought it was neat. She also snickered, covering her mouth. "Salami..."

Sato rolled over on the wendigo's arm, her hands dangling out as she looked at Hellia. "Hellia, Hellia... Hellia. Bus time...!" she said with the slightest hint of excitement.

Fernsby started bringing her to the bus when Sato's grumbling brought it to a standstill. They'd stopped in front of the Conductor, and Sato had taken to... staring at her. She tilted her head in apparent curiosity. There was just something about the girl; what was it? "Oh." The demon's eyes sparkled. "You're not human. Cool." She had no idea what exactly the Conducter was, but that was pretty neat.

"Anyway. Onwards...!" The towering wendigo obediently charged for the bus. But it was too big. Flesh met with metal with a loud clang, and the bus rolled forward from the sheer impact. Fernsby recoiled, groaning while Sato landed face down and flat in the vehicle. Muffled by floor, she spat, "Not you, Fernsby."

The wendigo groaned sadly. It turned an inky black, vanishing into a puddle in the ground. Within seconds, it had vanished.

"Sorry." Sato rose to her feet, not even bothering to dust herself off. Heading to the bus' doorway, she cupped her mouth, and tried to shout, "Hellia...! Bus time...!"
 



Her handler was interesting one, at least from what Aliyah could tell, all business and no chaff to break up the silence between them. She could follow Kamari's eyes as they watched her movements, measuring each and every one of her actions for an indiscretion to take action against, but the droid would give her nothing worthy of acting on. When hearing her overseer's observations on the situation she would almost let out a sigh of relief, almost, being quite glad that she wouldn't be working with someone more inclined to volunteer going first. One thing she'd learned after a harsh lesson or two was to never volunteer herself to do something first. The second gem of wisdom Kamari delivered was actually quite interesting to the inmate, her head tilting just a bit to the side as she processed what the woman wasn't saying, but what she was still telling Aliyah. So that's how it is, eh? Well... it's not like I have any interest getting closer to that freak than needed.

As the thought finished her eyes started moving back to the crowd around her before that predatory voice would grab her attention again, along with the sounds of machinery as the ceiling above them opened up to lower the 3D projector into place. Her eyes lingered on it for a few moments as she could tell that it had been modified for something... less educational than it's original purpose. Well, unless pain is the lesson. That thought would leave her mind rather quickly though as the model of Lumani City would be displayed for them, anticipation shooting up her spine to be back out on the streets and under the stars again. As Downtown was highlighted and their basic mission explained Aliyah would shift her weight from one augmented leg to the other, a very slight grinding coming from the ankle as the joint was rolled a particular way while under pressure, the sound small enough for only Aliyah and Kamari to pick up on. "Damned Kyber quacks..." She would grumble just under her breath, promising to herself that one day she'd strangle the dipshits that handled her parts while she was imprisoned.

~~~~~​

Aliyah wouldn't be left to linger on her thoughts for long however, their posse soon set to march through the desolate, bland, indistinct halls of the D.P.S. Headquarters until they were at their final destination... or at least their final destination until all of them would get a taste of freedom once more. The cold breeze that greeted them was just as inviting as the fortress walls that filled their gaze, the droid taking a deep breath anyways and sighing as she let the breath out slowly. Just as she could begin to admire the soulless skyline of the city once more her eyes would be pulled to the front gates as a deathmachine of manasteel on wheels would come barreling through the mundane barrier and head straight towards them.

Luckily the Executioner was between this beast and them, with the rolling buttress screeching to a halt practically inches from Solomon's nose, only for a girl to prance out from the drivers side. She didn't seem to mind it when more and more guards and guns would be pointed her way, though after a longer look Aliyah could tell why. She hardly needed the guards to stand down, though the fact that Solomon was willing enough to put up with her antics certainly helped. God's teeth, I want to tear her apart... The woman would think to herself, her gaze lingering for a few drawn out moments with a longing gaze on the Conductor's flashy red eyes. She stared long enough for Sato's initial charge to go unnoticed, though the clanging of metal and the shifting of the bus drew her attention away from the girl.

Not wanting to get stuck with the last spot available Aliyah would move forwards to the transport's entrance, grabbing the sides and having to put in effort to haul both herself and this Gods forsaken backpack up into the cargo bay. Aliyah would shuffle her way in past Sato with a slight nod until the droid took a seat opposite to the only others settled inside, about a half seat's worth of space on the bench between her and the entrance. In theory Kamari could squeeze her way in if she wanted to be hip-to-hip between her 'tool' and the doorway, but it wasn't long before Aliyah made it clear that she planned on using the space. The leg closest to the door slid back and locked in place as a brace while her other leg with the imperfection would raise up and cross over her knee as she got to work, uncaring of anyone that was to watch.

The two across from her could watch the droid extend three of the tools from her artificial arm and disconnect the leg with the faulty ankle from its socket, leaving them both looking at the flat adaptor that her augment would connect to, filaments and conductors both electrical and magical left exposed. Not long after Aliyah would have her artificial hand supporting the detached piece as she used the three articulated tubular tools to start picking apart the ankle. They almost looked like snakes lunging in to attach their prey as two of them darted in and out of view behind the limb, pulling components out as the third went about unlocking and loosening each piece. Now that she was working the rest of the world hardly existed to the droid, taking each of the components into her fleshy hand and raising them up close to her face for inspection. Those grease monkeys could hardly tell nanotubing from manasteel, look at this... A silent rant started in Aliyah's mind, her eyes burning with rageful indignation at the condition of her work.

 
HelliaHellia-Stand-Nun.png
~{An Unexpected Entrance}~​
Status: Surprised & Exasperated
Location: DPS HQ
Powers: Inactive
Interactions: AriAriAbabwa AriAriAbabwa TheImmortalDeity TheImmortalDeity

Yeah, yeah…

Hellia thought to herself as Solomon gave out a warning that sounded more like a threat. She rolled her eyes, and watched as a projector appeared, only to display part of the city. Solomon went on with explaining the role everyone here would play. Safe to say, Hellia was not impressed. In fact, she was actively baffled. This team, that had never worked together before and was full of the worst of the worst, and most dangerous criminals. They were to find the cause and stop it? Wasn’t this the kind of team to send in when things were suicidal or incredibly dire? Not a recon team to scout out something mundane enough to be called a ‘distress.’ Not to mention the festival that celebrates the ties between two cities. If something went wrong within the team, it could really affect the ties between the two cities.

So, it was one of two options. Things were incredibly dire, and Solomon was hiding that fact. Or the leadership was inexplicably incompetent. To Hellia, they both seemed like equally possible outcomes. But she hoped it was the latter. After all, that would make getting out of here easier. The whole explanation, Hellia looked the slightest bit confused, but mostly disinterested if anything.

As much as Hellia wanted to follow the rules, and play nice to get out sooner, she also needed information. How strict was her handler, and those around her? There would only be one way to find out. To see where the line was, she would first have to step over it. So, her first small act would be to simply step forward without her handler and follow Solomon and the others. She didn’t wait for Sato, or even get her permission to step forwards. She simply did so on her own. Though, the fact that she wasn’t yelled at or scolded by the time they arrived at their destination told her that, at least, they wouldn’t be too annoying about their boundaries. While it’s not clear why Sato didn’t react. Whether it was her being asleep, or just not caring, Hellia made a mental note of this.

Hellia hadn’t been kept inside longer than the others, but it still felt nice when she stepped outside. The fresh air, the wind on her face, and the sky above. All familiar sights that made her feel a little better. A reminder that she still enjoyed the little things. That she was still a human.

But hopefully not for long.

This was interrupted by a motor, and horns sounding before a massive wheeled, armored vehicle busted through the gates and stopped just before the group. Like Solomon, Hellia didn’t seem phased in the slightest. Only lifting an eyebrow, as if saying: Okay… Now what?

Then, someone with the same sort of aura as Sato stepped out. Except this girl was exuberant and cheerful. A shame really. Hellia liked her clothing choice and looks. But that personality? Too much. At least, she didn’t seem to be the type to hide things or play her emotions and thoughts close to the chest. That would make getting a bead on her easier. Things soon turned amusing, however, and the edges of Hellia’s lips curled upwards. The slightest of smiles graced her face as she saw how exasperated Solomon was getting with this girl. She stifled a laugh as he was given the nickname Salami. This would soon be interrupted by Sato repeatedly calling her name and stating the obvious. The trace of a smile vanished and now she was the one looking exasperated.

Hellia walked past Sato and towards the APC as her handler talked to the Conductor. Only to watch her whiz by and slam into the vehicle. Well, more like her oversized hound did. Sato flew inside and hit something hard, evidenced by the loud thud that echoed from inside. Sato appeared a moment later and yelled for Hellia… Again. It just made the girl more annoyed. So instead of responding or even acknowledging the other, Hellia kept silent. She climbed into the APC awkwardly. With her hands still handcuffed behind her back, and the vehicle being higher off the ground than most, she had to hop up to get inside and find a spot to sit. Saw would end up sitting across from the glowing-eyed woman from earlier. The one with metallic body parts who’d so graciously stolen half her chocolate earlier.

She saw down, squishing her hands between her back and the seat behind her, preparing for an uncomfortable and annoying, ride.
 
The Conductor kept up her smile as the criminals and their supervisors filed onto the bus one after another, even when Sato made her comment on the driver's origins. The demoness noticed the Conductor's lips beamed wider from the corner of her eye, though nothing more came from it. And so, in they went, each passenger taking their spots inside this questionable boon in technological advancement.

SLAM.

The metallic double doors shut when Solomon, the last member to take residence, entered. It took a few seconds, but Conductor slid back into the front seat, humming. A small device lowered from a hidden compartment just above her head, looking like makeshift binoculars as they stopped directly before her eyes. She pressed her face to it, a low whirring sounding from the machine before it made a tiny, almost satisfied, beep. Moments after, the engine once again roared to life. The journey had begun.

The vehicle's walls began to glow, runes etched into its carapace, awakening alongside the truck's startup. To most of the members present, the runes meant nothing. Simply scribbles of unknown origin. For Kira, however, the words held familiarity. They were simple, almost barebones in their meaning, but the essence behind the words was impactful.

On the wall she sat closest, the words read: May we silence each boastful lip and tongue. May we close each venal ear. It is within our peace that the truth becomes absolute. Jabbathi 4.

The text on the wall across from her read: Humility will protect you, and discernment will guide you. Avaiha 12.

The power of the Scripture radiated from these verses, blanketing their transport in a power most foreign. As for their purpose, Kira felt uncertain. These were not teachings that her master taught.

On the far side of the vehicle, just outside the cockpit, Solomon leaned against the wall, his eyes closed. Chunks realized the snake was not visibly present, and the air lightened. The Executioner kept silent. His words of answering any questions about the mission took purchase in the back of the group's minds. For some, it seemed too simple. For others, there wasn't enough information to proceed. For the juvenile, their thoughts became preoccupied with other fantasies.

Whatever the case, their thoughts were interrupted by a sudden lurch, the machine beginning its first trek of many. Given a rare moment of respite, each of them was free to use their time as they wished. Whether that time was productive or not was up to them, however.
 






"Chunks"
70 - Chunks.png

​







  • Mentioned

    Aliyah ( Mistborn Mistborn )
    Hellia ( November Witch November Witch )
    Overseer Fiznes de Lurario ( Eteri Eteri )


    Location
    Upon the Conductah's Bus
    ​

​

​







​


A crackle and pop of the gel in his shoulders, before he turned to watch the rest step aboard- purposely pulling forth more of what his contractor did not see. A touch of pride bled into his posture- something not present before. He disengaged the gauntlets himself- having requested them for a lark upon the soldiers, but they seemed to have lost their humor to himself. The leg 'boots' cracked off as well, being mostly 3D printed plastic and metallic paint.

Once the gauntlets and boots lay in mostly intact pieces, he tore the zippers and straps off the jumpsuit he wore, followed by the fabric of the whole thing. Underneath laid his standard outfit, a nice white shirt with a black Lumine City police vest overlaid atop¹. Leather gloves, check- he flicked off a touch of dust upon the vest- damnable fabric was always leaving fragments everywhere. Mixed sounds of hiss and grumble, Chunks took a moment to reevaluate the other figures in the room. His own minder, one whom influenced him already- was it a strain against his collar, capability, or simply the contract being so poor that his own identity wasn't solid? No, worse than all of those- it was a mix of the first and last, combined with the seething hatred of an unsuitable entity unable to properly use something they had no need to hold onto. Yet a hound lay nearby, even if their own leash was gone from view. With a gloved hand running through his flares³, Chunks shifted his attention to both Aliyah and Hellia.

Watching an artist work with materials of their own make and the derision within- they would astound Chunks if they were of the clever craft², but he didn't understand enough to actually know how much clumsiness went into the maintaining of such a thing other than 'too much'. Granted, they did forget to ask often, and just shred and peel off gel as they so pleased, so the lack of care wasn't anything new. Yet interrupting would only lead to a knife in him, so he turned his head to the nun, keeping his voice low.

"Ch'iitk. Chunks if you struggle. Don't mind the ask, but didja see the fiend 'mong us? Feel you'd be the most likely to seen it while it crawled along yall's noggins, be it with a full one like yours." A hint of hope echoed through his shell, hopefully the host would have seen. If not, then it definitely would be a useful tidbit to trade for aid later on, even if it was to loosen the contract a bit more. Idle hands began to fold up the torn prison uniform, as he glanced over at the tinkerer once more. "And if you need a touch of heat to fix the things, I've got plenty. Just not now, as the driver may get upset if we lit the place."

 
Last edited:
MIRIAM

Miriam felt only mildly guilty for calling out the executioner on his poor fashion choices, but that guilt stemmed more from how her actions might negatively impact her Overseer. This may have been the first time they'd met, but she liked Kira and didn't want to cause too many problems for her. The rest of the group, however... Well, Miriam didn't care much for them. She only spared the Conductor a brief once-over as she filed into the vehicle, her attention immediately stolen by Kira.

It wasn't anything Kira had done, exactly, but more what she hadn't. She seemed to be focused on something else entirely, staring at the now glowing walls. Miriam's head tilted curiously, unable to understand the lines on the wall, "Darling, what are you seeing that we're not?" She murmured, keeping her voice low as she leaned in toward Kira.
YOUR GODDESS


simj26 simj26
 
Djerba​
gxP1yug.jpeg
Djerba fell heavy into her seat as the bus's engine thrummed to life. Her eye, cast to the window, met with both her reflection and that of the purple bloom which covered her face and then baying at the back of her mind, Djerba felt a scratch. Unlike anything else that day, it was a familiar thing. That listless sensation of longing- of need- that rose in her whenever she had gone too long without knowing her petals' embrace.

Her movements were delicate, guided years of practice and habit that was so deeply ingrained into her that it had become instinct. What Djerba did not remember, her body did. All of the times she had clumsily grabbed at her own body, greedy for a bounty which only she could yield were echoed within her fingertips. A barely suppressed tremble, slowly changing from one of dread to anticipation as she reached towards herself. A small pause as the dim light that spilled forth from her flowers rippled out in response to her touch, and then a swift, quiet snap as she pulled lose the largest and most developed among them. One by one, until a small handful of them were nestled within her palm.

Within their petals, a gentle glow slowly died as she raised to bundle to her nose, allowing the thin tangle of their stamen and stigma to tickle the inside of her nose for just a moment before she breathed long and deep. Within her, a dance of narcotic pollen flowed through her body. It was a small dose, but for the moment it was enough. The clawing receded, and the next breath that Djerba drew was that of the bus's still, metallic air.

"...It isn't much different." Djerba sighed, answering Em's question almost an entire minute late.

The flowers within her palm were dull now, and a haze overcame Djerba's solitary eye to match. It was fixed upon the other passengers, but cast over a distance far further than the bus's tiny interior could offer.

She wondered if she had been like that once.

But nothing she could do would give her that answer.

TheImmortalDeity TheImmortalDeity
 
Kamari Todd​

<Error! Video data stopping recording.>
<Access Denied>
<Kamari Todd requesting information on Executioner ------>
<Error: Denied>
<WARNING do not proceed with this line of questioning>
<Loading Public Information>

Getting the equivalent of the middle finger and the lone file stating the man had worked for the CCF for ten years was enough for her to get the picture to stop. It wasn’t worth it, and if she got the chance avoidance would be a safer tactic to approach with. She’d never once gotten a warning from the system before but she knew having too much knowledge was a great way to get a one-way ticket to hell.

No, she had to focus. The mission came first. Though something as vague as civilian distress wasn’t much to work on. The area-wide distress spoke of something greater in the wings. Her criminal seemed to pick up the hint and maintain the silence. It was unfortunate that her recording stopped, even if she had a feeling she would be able to resume given enough distance.

Coming to a wall of machinery guarded by soldiers was every bit unpleasant as usual and the horizon of Lumani was no better of a sight. If the honking wasn’t so goddamn irritating she’d almost call it a preferred break from the oppressive aura of the upper city.

<Kamari Todd requesting information on ”Conductor”>
<Loading…>
<Kyber Company Affiliated. Motor Transport Operator for the D.P.S. In service for three months.>

That was it? There wasn’t any red tape to chew through or gates blocking, the history simply wasn’t there. She’d understood the need for classification but if there was no data she was beginning to wonder just how useful the network would be in the future. She’d tested it before so she knew there should be far more information. She’d need to test if the earlier error was causing problems with the system.

With no rush for any specific seat, she let the other crowd into the bus stepping on and spotting XX217 fiddling with their own leg. Without realizing it rather than taking a seat she stood in front of her prisoner curiosity spiking with her actions.

“What’s wrong with it? Built it wrong or is the machinery not agreeing with your neural system?”

The lurch came and she planted a hand on the door to stablize herself. Looking at the seats she decided to lean on the back of the vehicle keeping as many in her point of view as possible. If only it didn’t mean that she was directly counter to Solomon. Perhaps she should have got in sooner.


Mistborn Mistborn
 

A steady, gloved hand pressed against the wall as the engine came to life. As it pushed forward with a sudden jerk, Em felt its impatience gnaw at its stomach. It felt anxious. Even now, after all these years, it was difficult for the leather-clad being to understand these sudden fits of emotion. Why did it feel this way? It searched for answers, giving a quick sweep over the others present, but found no solution in their unreadable mannerisms.

Standing before it, with her back leaned against the exit, Kamari began to speak with Aliyah. Em felt envious. Why did it seem so simple for her? In its eyes, the Overseer and her Criminal paired well together. When it looked to its charge, snacking so frivolously on the buds of intoxication, weariness befell Em. Was it not cut out for this line of work? Was it so unimpressive that others deemed it unworthy of a response? Only then, did Djerba give a dry reply to Em's question, waiting long enough for Em to have nearly forgotten the context it gave.

"I ... see." Another munch from Djerba caused the entity to look away. Perhaps it was better to let them be. Besides, when the nun sat directly next to it, and the elemental who wished to converse with the sister struck up a conversation, Em felt it lost the chance to continue any meaningful dialogue. Even amongst their peers and the individuals cast aside by the majority, Em felt out of place — an oddity among oddities.

It decided on a different approach. If it couldn't engage with its coworkers, it would ask a generalized question to its caretaker. With how things were, Em knew Solomon left many queries unanswered. And so, it was the first to speak its mind to the solitary Executioner, raising its voice to easily hear it from across the vehicle, amongst the other chatter happening.

"You mentioned a disturbance, Executioner," Em spoke, its voice lacking the inquisitive quality it wished to convey, "may we know what those disturbances might be?" It was a simple request. Know thy enemy and all that. It hoped with this gentle push, Solomon may feel generous enough to give a response. Although, while in this confined space, Em felt equally expectant to lose its head if it rubbed the one-man death squad the wrong way.

Solomon opened his single unscarred eye to peek at the bloke who decided to speak. Seemingly glaring into Em's soul, he grumbled. The type of noise from someone who didn't wish to participate, but knew they had to. "If I remember correctly," his gruff timbre growled, "I said to wait until we arrived on site before asking questions."

Em sheepishly brought its hat over its eyes, cutting off contact. It didn't halt in its pursuit of information, however. "While true, I'd pose simply sitting around witlessly until our arrival wouldn't serve you any better, right?" The Overseer felt its uneasiness ball into its throat. It felt difficult to utter a word in Solomon's presence, but alas, it needed to perform its duty.

A sharp inhale from Solomon caused Em's body to tense. Just as soon, the man exhaled, allowing Em's shoulders to relax. "I suppose you're right," the Executioner agreed, pulling his weight off the wall and standing in as straight a position as his relaxed posture allowed. He then spoke, not caring if his words reached the ears of those around him.

"Intel is rather scarce currently. All we know is that there are two organizations currently active in the area," Solomon held up two fingers to highlight this information, but after seeing Conductor mimic the same action in a cutesy manner from the corner of his eye, he quickly pocketed his hands.

"And which organizations would those be?" Em posited, trying to get to the point.

"The Redcloaks and the Revolutionaries," Solomon replied. The lack of recognition of Em's features caused the man to continue, albeit begrudgingly. "The Redcloaks are a group of vampires that have decided to make each of the city's districts their playground. As for the Revolutionaries, they are a group comprised of only humans; supremacists. These organizations are actively combatting each other while the Port Festival continues."

"And why can't the DPS or Salta Maria authorities handle this outcropping of violence?" Em asked.

"Got a lot of questions, huh?" Solomon said in irritation. He continued, nonetheless. "The DPS have their hands full with blockading the area, prioritizing civilian safety, and organizing the venue. Salta Maria, however ... " It was nary a moment, but the Executioner's disapproving gaze landed on Fiznes. "They are hesitant to provide additional assistance. As to why, that is something above my pay grade. That good enough for you, kid?"

"Yes, sir." It shifted back into its seat, pressing itself against the corner of the metallic walls like a rat surrounded by starved cats, the reverberation of traveled ground coursing through its body. It kept to itself, for now. It decided to wait. Observe. That was all it could do as its mind played with the information it received. How unwelcoming, Lumani City was.
 
Kira“You see them, don’t you?” Kira indicated the runes etched upon the inner walls of the metal beast. “They’re Scriptures. That one,” she pointed at the wall closest to her, “reads ‘May we silence each boastful lip and tongue. May we close each venal ear. It is within our peace that the truth becomes absolute. While that one,” she turned her finger towards the other wall, “says “Humility will protect you, and discernment will guide you.”

Avaiha and Jabbathi. None of those were familiar to her. Or at least, what they meant. That was the main issue with Miracles. You could never understand what the intent of the Scribe that put them there was, until you got into their headspace. A smarter Scribe could probably piece together what the phrases meant, and what effect they were supposed to have, but Kira, unfortunately, wasn’t a ‘smarter Scribe’. If she were to hazard a guess...

"Best I can say is that they're probably defensive and guidance Miracles. Maybe something to stop others from hearing us, if Jabbathi phrase was anything to go by? Hm." She wished she had more to tell her Criminal, but that was the extent of her knowledge. She definitely wasn't suited for this. Her mentor could have done a better job explaining the phrases.

Her ears perked up at the mention of the two factions. The Redcloaks weren’t the issue here. It was the Revolutionaries that worried her.

Human supremacists was going to be a problem. She hadn’t had much experience with them, but there had been one or two encounters. Some were completely against demons, and some even put augmentations in the same category as demons, and both applied to supporting this philosophy with violence.

Her eyes glanced across the other members in the vehicle.

“We should probably get ready for an altercation,” she piped up, to anyone who would listen. “A group like ours are probably going to attract unsavoury attention from the Revolutionaries. I think.”
 



Operator "Redeye" Aliyah
Tags: HTCOR HTCOR BriiAngelic BriiAngelic TheImmortalDeity TheImmortalDeity simj26 simj26 ​

Twist, turn, detach and examine. The woman went through well practiced and familiar motions as she got to disassembling the underperforming limb, stripping the ankle down to its barest frame in two minutes flat and leaving it hanging at an awkward, inhumanly bent angle that was a bit unsettling to see for those not used to the craft. The collection of over thirty components that came from it sat beside her in a pattern familiar to Aliyah and completely alien to everyone else as she brought each one up for a thorough, meticulous, intense analysis for any potential damage or deformation.

The passing of the other criminals and their conversations between the other overseer's was the least of her concerns as she worked, only shifting her attention as she felt a rising heat beside her. Looking over Aliyah would see the... well, whatever spirit-y thing Chunks was beside her and heard their offer, the neon red eyes flicking up to the mane of fiery 'hair' before moving back to their mark of a face and responding. "No thanks, big man... Not sure what your fire would do to the mana tempering on these smaller components." She would say in a voice that acknowledged the intention to help, her mouth opening to continue before another's comment immediately stole her attention.

Narrowing her gaze as her head snapped over to the overseer standing over her, their gazes would clash again as Aliyah's slitted pupils stared back into Kamari's azure eyes, though this time the droid would not stay silent. "Neither, Overseer. I'm sure you're not aware which individual directly handled my parts while I was under the Warden's watch, but they certainly didn't hold the same standards of cleanliness that I did in my shop." She would say with a sharp bite to her tone, bringing up one of the last components that would have been buried deep into the ankle and turning it around to show the narrow side of the piece, a flake of metal different to the rest of any other component stuck to it. The artificial arm would come over and slowly pick off the flake of metal, letting it flitter for a moment before catching it in her palm and holding it out.

Both of them knew the metal, knew where it came from, but the droid was feeling angry enough to voice her displeasure. "If you do get to see the Kyber 'smiths' still working on my eyes do tell them that if I find a single mark left on them I'll return the favor by dissecting them one piece at a time." Her voice never rose in volume, her tone staying calm, but those eyes burned with a hateful fire as she held her gaze on Kamari for a moment longer before returning to her work. What had taken her two minutes to disassemble was back together in the same time, the tools retracting back into her artificial arm as Aliyah lifted the now whole leg and reconnected it to its socket. Those watching the verbal scuffle between overseer and criminal would see the lights running up along the sides of the leg gradually warm and build their glow to full brightness once more as Aliyah stretched and articulated the freshly repaired limb, satisfied with the results and sitting back against the wall of the transport in a placid, relaxed position, certainly not looking to continue the hostilities she'd shown earlier.

With her work complete Aliyah would start to turn more of her attention to those around her, especially as one of the other Overseers that'd caught her attention in the facility began to speak about their mission with the Executioner. Parsing the information as it came in the droid's brow would furrow in thought before letting out a slight sigh, recognizing at least one of the two factions mentioned and turning herself to face her body further in towards the conversation, one leg crossing over the other as she turned. Vamps sound bad enough, but warring against the Revs too? It's certainly gonna be a long night... When the youngest of the Overseers spoke about the chance of getting into a scrap with the Revs as a group she would nod in agreement, commenting her own thoughts after a moment. "Sounds like the Revs are trying to cause a problem between the city and Santa Maria, as to why the Reds are out in force... probably for the easy prey." She would say to the rest in the conversation, though with a slight shrug at the end as she wasn't particularly familiar with the organization.
 
HelliaHellia-Sadistic.png
~{Rising Suspicions}~​
Status: Suspicious & Exasperated
Location: APC
Powers: Inactive
Mention(s): TheImmortalDeity TheImmortalDeity AriAriAbabwa AriAriAbabwa HTCOR HTCOR

As she sat there uncomfortable in her seat, but comfortable to just watch and listen to the others, someone threw words her way. The fiery person before her, who she assumed was some sort of spirit, spoke so vaguely, she thought about just not answering. It was just so open ended. A fiend? By one definition or another, weren’t they all fiends? Her expression was one of slight annoyance as she met his gaze… Or what she assumed his gaze was.

“Chunks, was it? You’ll need to be far more specific if you wish to make me understand what it is exactly you’re on about.”

Her tone was frustrated, and she seemed disinterested in this conversation the moment she caught wind of others speaking about the operation. She also saw smoke of the more negative emotions between some of the people here. Annoyance and frustration was to be expected. But even between Solomon and some of the Overseers? That was something she didn’t expect. Glancing at her own handler, she was glad they were more the quiet, laid back type than some of the others here. She saw herself easily getting in arguments, or on someone else’s nerves real easily. One in particular. But that was neither here nor there. Right now, she was now ruminating on what she learned about this operation so far.

“If we have been resorted to, it either means there is such a shortage in law enforcement personnel, that they have to resort to us criminals. I don’t think that’s likely, because if it was really that bad, these groups would know about it and already be taking advantage of it. Or, there’s more to this than the big man is letting on.”

Hellia said aloud, to no one in particular. She doubted intel could be so scarce in a situation like this. There had to be more to all of this. It was suspicious to say the least.
 


6Ga6sAl.png
Although initially delighted at the prospect of the battle bus, Sato was already impatiently kicking her seat. It would've made a racket if not for the chatty riders all around. While chowing down on some animal gummies, Sato copied her prisoner's path of watching and listening. Though her forehead eye twitched as the spirit calling himself Chunks approached Hellia and Aliyah. Sato liked to think of herself as separated from the tiresome vices of humanity like bias and judgment, and she has not yet learned those things plague even herself. So a spirit getting cozy with her criminal... well, it made her pout.

Salami's words caught her attention. A conflict between two factions. Redcloaks and Revolutionaries. "The headless chicken." The words escaped on their own, and she covered her mouth as if concerned about sneaky reporters, then sighed. Of course, fate had it in mind to throw her back into the fray of mind-numbing politics and the public eye. And how inconvenient the other peacekeeping groups were too occupied. Leaning on her hand in her first display of frustration, she uttered, "Really, making us deal with petty criminals. No purpose. Terror for terrorism's sake..." She remembered her father's words about these human supremacists exactly.

This frustration was making her sleepy. But not sleepy enough to sit by, watching the spirit bother Hellia. So Sato left her seat.

"Whatever the reason, we'll be okay. The Revolutionaries are only delinquents," Sato said with her usual expressionless face. Then with a huff and a jump, she claimed her new seat: Hellia's lap.

And from her throne she turned all eyes to Chunks. Nothing but puffing cheeks and a tired, somewhat droopy stare. "I am also curious about this 'fiend'."
 






"Chunks"
70 - Chunks.png

​







  • Mentioned


    Sato ( AriAriAbabwa AriAriAbabwa )
    Solomon² ( TheImmortalDeity TheImmortalDeity )
    Hellia (In Passing)

    Location
    Upon the Conductah's Bus

    ​


​

​







​


A lack of answer from the nun- which was an answer of its own. Combined with the fact that this was bound to be a teething mission, something to ensure that all involved were suitable for this? The only question was the information scarce because of the criminals- or was it because of these overseers? He didn't know enough about the city in general to properly identify what's going on, and his attention waned and waxed with the skies. Now? Strength pulled from stars above was too meager to properly fuel flame- and the demonic? child spoke to him from the lap of the nun. How possessive of them.

Was this tradition overtaken by others? Did the outsiders pry this from him? How cruel. With a hand, he gestured to Sato's new seat. "The last time I did that tradition, I had gifts to give out. 'Pologies for not having them to give. Chii'tk's mass was a fun holiday back then. But seems to be on my end of the field, not yours. If you didn't see it twirl 'long all of y'all's skulls, then it means it's closer to me than you. Asked because her head's full, so figured if anyone would see it- it'd be her. Or, well, you. Just know it ain't a fiend, and pardon me for callin' it that. The gaol didn't help me up lingo to much past what they called uh, the frontier times? If you gotta better word for me to use for a weird critter that I ain't got a clue about, lemme know, flare.¹" Chunk's accent pulled out in full, an aspect forgotten but called forth by tradition- not one held anymore, but definitely one important to him. A good portion of his attention brought onto Sato, as if he seemed softer to her than most about. For those with basics of arcane training, what was probably a spirit acting kind off the bat to a demonic entity? Odd, to say the least.

Chunks paused for a moment, glancing among the prisoners and overseers- one too angry to not have bees rattling in their skull at all times, snapping at the relatively nice tinker next to him? Not a problem he can fix. But attending to a little ember like the pouty one in front of him? It would be fine, for now.
 
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