Storytime with SAS

Sooo Close... (Wayward Saga)

2011-07-27T21:11:00.000-07:00

Doul: Wh-aa? *shoots a half-afraid, half-suspicious glance at Ira and veers left towards the gate* I've got keys for it, so why would we have to scale it? Besides, that'd look even more suspicious.

Taryn: Not like we're not -all- on the security cameras already. But that's a bridge we'll have to cross when we come to it for now.

Billy: *looks expectantly at the fence and keeps moving forward while trying to look everywhere at once when he hears Taryn's comment about security cameras*

Garret: *curls is lip in annoyance. Taryn had a point, it was likely they were being watched anyways. Which sucked. But there was nothing they could do right now.* Yeah, I guess so. *stumbles for a step or two, but recovers enought to fake health again*

Lisette: *keeps her distance still, regardless of cameras she still doesn't want to freak Doul out more than necessary*

Ira: *leads Doul up to the gate and waits for him to unlock it, scanning the yard beyond while he waits, looking for any sign of other guards or personnel and seeing no one yet*

Doul: *fumbles and finally manages to unlock the the gate, holding it open for everyone to pass through first* The parking arcade is in the basement, so we'll need to head inside and down the elevators...

Taryn: *heads forward, leaving Ira and Doul by the gate to close up, and advances towards the complex doors* Is there anything we should be cautious of? Guards we should be aware of? Anything you haven't told us about?

Billy: *moves forward through the gate, hoping that they will be able to leave this place, looking expectantly at the guard, waiting to see what he has to say*

Garret: *shuffles through the gate, not liking where Doul is leading them. It seems like prime places for an ambush. Still, he grits his teeth and bears it, hoping its just paranoia and not premonition* How are you holding up kid? *he asks Billy once they're through the gate*

Lisette: *pauses as she nears the gate and see's Ira and Doul waiting. With a deep breath, she begins to move forward. Tailing didn't seem much of an option anymore* All is clear behind us Ira... so far. *she speaks as she passes through the gate, keeping an eye on Doul and trying not to show how terrifed she really is right now*

Ira: *saluts at Lisette before nudging Doul to lock the gate after them* Good work, dollface. Now then, to the getaway car! *pulls Doul along with him*

Doul: *locks the gate and then stumbles as Ira pulls on their invisible connection* Look, I already told you, I don't know where exactly the other guards are. They're supposed to be on the move like me. But, once you get in through the doors, the elevator is just on the left hand side...

Taryn: Do we need a security key to get through the building? Is there a security guard manning the desk? Come on, Mr. Doul, your ass is on the line here anyways, you might as well co-operate and avoid more pain. We want to get through this as quickly as possible, and then you'll never hear from us again.

Billy: *looking at Garret* Uh...I'm ok I guess. I'm just looking forward to getting out of this place and finding something to eat.

Garret: *nods but doesn't say anything more. He just looks over his shoulder at Lisette and smiles slightly, looks like Doul didn't freak out. It was also nice to see Lisette wasn't glowing. Which meant either she was cool and calm, or getting better at controlling her panic*

Lisette: *was really focussing on not glowing. The raw willpower it was taking left her senses a bit dull. She was amazing herself by holding it off this long though.* The faster we get out of here, the happier I'll be. *not noticing, she almost stumbles over a piece of broken asphalt. Stooping, she picks up a piece the size of a walnut and fiddles with it as she walks*

Ira: *pushes Doul back tot he front of the group, so that he can lead the way in* Alright, everyone be on guard here... less open space means harder to keep sights on everything...

Doul: *fumbles with his security card and opens up the outer doors and then points to where the elevators are* There's security desks on some of the higher clearance levels, but i'm just an S Class, I don't get to see those parts of the complex... *leads them inside a modern-looking building - all steel and concrete and banked florescent lighting overhead. This level is clearly a warehouse, for packing and shipping goods, with a few personnel at the far side working without looking up. Doul pauses briefly looking towards them before waving them towards the left and inserting his card into the security slot*

Taryn: *keeps close, not wanting to blatantly ask questions in the presence of other site personnel, instead she keeps an eye on the space, picking out te materials and the colours incase she needs to shift quickly*

Billy: *seeing the other employees working across the wharehouse he quickly moves towards the elevators*

Garret: *follows as inconspicuously as possible, which is tough since none of them look like guards or employees* I really don't like this. Any way we can speed things up even more?

Lisette: *still concentrating and fiddling with the peice of asphalt, which she does not notice is starting to glow slightly* Yeah, I don't like being this vulnerable. It makes me... nervous. *she shoots a look to Ira with that "you know what that means" kind of look as she moves quickly to the elevators*

Ira: This parking arcade of yours is just out these doors when we get to the right floor, right? Like, no maze with retinal scanners and martial prowess, and skill-testing questions, right? *glances at Lisette and gives her a reassuring wink*

Doul: What? *frowns at Ira with no sense of humour at all and shakes his head* No, it's just down on B4. Believe me, I want to get rid of you guys as soon as I can... Why would I be leading you all over hell's half-acre?

Taryn: *watches the illuminated lights on the elevator bar move down to M on the display with some impatience* I somehow feel like we should really be taking the stairs.

Billy: *looking at Taryn* Uh...I like that idea, the stairs might be better. *steps back a couple of paces to see if he can spot the door sto the stairs*

Garret: *he doesn't say a word, but he agrees as well. The elevator just seems like a bad idea. But Doul has a point, why would he lead them all of hells-half-acre when his safetly was on the line* As much as I hate to say it, lets give the guy the benefit of the doubt. The elevator would be the fastest way down. *sighs*

Lisette: *the chunk of asphalt is glowing a little brighter and she looks impatient, her brow starting to bead with sweat* Can we just get going already?

Ira: Ding! *in time with the elevator's like sound* Alright, everyone, pile in nice and cozy... What's this elevator's max. capacity anyway? *steps in, dragging Doul with him and peers at the plaque* We're good to like...fifteen people, so we should be fine... *grins at them easily, as if to remind them all to stay calm*

Doul: *is hauled into the elevator with a tug* Urk! Would you stop doing that? *hisses under his breath* It feels gross! *inserts his pass key into the slot and presses B4, as he said*

Taryn: *steps in, feeling relieved that there's no one inside the elevator when it came to Main.* Okay, so far, so good. Let's go... *but her voice is tentative, and she glances at Garret to see how he's doing*

Billy: *steps into the elevator quickly with everyone else*

Garret: *his face is growing more and more pale as things drag on, and his movements are sluggish at best, but he's trying to hide it as best her can. Scratching at the stubble on his chin, he catches Taryn looking at him. He lifts his hand to say that he's alright without actually saying it.* We're almost there. *shifts to beside Taryn in the elevator and grabs her hand, giving a quick squeeze*

Lisette" *still hasn't noticed the glowing rock in her hand. She climbs into the elevator with the others and wipes the beads of sweat away with her free hand*

Ira: *watches the counter moving down as he hums some elevator Muzak, then as the doors are opening he says* Welcome to B4, please keep your hands and feet inside the vehicle until it comes to a complete --- Shit. *with the doors fully open, there is a man standing behind a row of guards armed with pistols and shotguns*

Primal Crusade #6 - Topher on Assignment

2011-07-01T13:47:00.000-07:00

Daeron was so fed up with finals this term it was not funny. Every class had demanded a polished programming project, all due within two days of each other, and he wasn’t even getting a chance to rest after that. He’d been itching a lot recently, and his skin was even peeling in a few places… a medical condition, he was sure of it, but not enough to be debilitating. His close friends had taken to jesting with him about the matter, telling him his stress was causing him to shed. Whatever it was, it was annoying… At least until the hair began to fall out. He’d noticed a strand or two here and there and now he’d taken to wearing a cap because he’d developed a bald spot on the cowlick of his head before the week was out. A doctor’s appointment had been arranged but it was unfortunately after the majority of his projects were due… leaving him to stress about his body, complain about the sun (or lack thereof) and endure the ridicule of bemused friends. He’d already been ‘gifted’ with a box or two of Rogaine… He sighed as he basked in the sunlight and typed away at his laptop, it was, at least, almost over. Another week and he’d be free to return home – not that it was that much of an improvement but familiar territory and faces would at least soothe the academic panic that gripped most university students at this time of the year. Hopefully his skin allergy, as that is what he’d convinced himself his condition was, would be cured by then. Beyond him, the pond burbled merrily and the quiet-loud voices of exuberant students drifted on the wind, a pleasant backdrop to his work.

Topher was a little lost. Normally his sense of direction was quite good - but that required some knowledge of the area he was in, and this was nowhere near anything he knew. He still wasn't entirely sure why Darius had selected him - of all the Weres and all the more experienced hunters in their group - to fly out here for this little task. He was certain Daquiri would have done a better job, and that Lee had friends in the area (hadn't he friends everywhere?) but no, they'd chosen him - Topher Bier - to fly halfway across the continent in search of a specific Demon. He was still nervous about that. Though they had told him this particular Demon was on their side, and that she'd helped them in the past, he was still nervous. He'd only ever encountered Demons in a fray before, and then he'd had to either kill them or run for his life. So, what was this mission to be? He stopped, and shaded his eyes with one hand. He was hopelessly lost on campus, which was at least in the right direction, but past that he was unsure. He glanced at his watch: quarter past 2. If this kept up, he'd miss the meeting, and he hated being late for things like this. Glancing around, he caught sight of a student working away on a laptop in an adjacent building. He swung around the side of the structure to find the door and stepped inside. Immediately the cool of air conditioning hit him, and he was glad he'd brought his windbreaker. He shrugged it over his shoulders and strode towards the window where the young man had been working and lifted a hand in greeting. "Excuse me..."

Daeron flicked his gaze up at the words, but only briefly, in that side-long checking-if-it's-you glance most strangers give when addressed. A scan of the area near him revealed a lack of others to query so he tilted his head and looked from under thin brows at the man, "Need something? I'm in the middle of a project..." He gestured at his laptop, on which a wall of computing lingo marched across the screen in neat, colour coded rows. Absently, he scratched at his wrists.

Topher smiled apologetically and nodded in understanding. "Yes, I'm terribly sorry to interrupt. I'm trying to find the Eidon building? Could you point me in the right direction?" He noticed the scratching and tried to avert his gaze. He knew some people could be self-conscious about such things and didn't want to draw any more attention to the condition than necessary.

"Eidon?" He looked amused and shook his head, "You're on the wrong side of the campus, entirely. Eidon's with the business section not the computing technology buildings. Here, I'll show you the map." Tapping away several commands in the blink of an eye, he then closed his laptop and rose, a gust of wind nearly toppling his hat from its place and he grumbled as he clutched it to its spot, tugging some hairs loose at the same time. Realizing this, but not wanting to look like a freak before a stranger, he gestured with his free hand, "That way, just around the corner." He waited a moment then hastily dropped the hairs as he moved forward as if everything was normal, "Visiting a friend?"

Topher blinked a little, wondering if perhaps this student had leukemia and was undergoing treatments. He turned to follow the man's pointing hand and looked off across the campus to a walkway lined with trees. "I must've gone right past it..." He muttered to himself and then smiled back at the student. "Thanks a bunch, man." At his follow up question, Topher's smile faltered a little. "Ah, no... Not really. I'm supposed to meet someone, but it'll be a first for me."

"Nah, a lot of people miss it because it's tucked in behind the larger buildings and doesn't have any direct access - need to go through the buildings around it. See?" He stopped at the wall plaque that was just around the corner and tapped a finger at the gathering of four buildings in the area labeled for business studies, "Easiest way is to follow this corridor, hang a left at the McKinsman Theatre and follow that hallway to the Business Admin building then cross the gangway into Eidon. Most people get lost... it's an old campus. Even net hot spots are hard to find." He gestured back at where he'd been working. "One of the profs, maybe?" He quirked a brow at that, wondering if this was a poorly arranged net-date or something. Wouldn't be surprising, really. "There's maps dotted along the walls so you should be able to find your way...."

"Ah, well, the indoor maps should sort me out. I usually have a good sense of direction, so..." He trailed off as he studied the map and followed the path the other had voiced with his eyes. Ah, he wasn't so far off as he'd thought. He should be able to make it in time. "Ah, not a professor, actually. She uh....works out of one of the buildings. Like a liaison, I guess. Have you heard of Leithe Allusion?"

"Allusion..." He trailed off, biting his lower lip thoughtfully, "Oh! Yeah. Heard of, don't want to get involved with though... couple of my buddies says she's got this weird voodoo vibe about her." Daeron chuckled, "I don't know myself, the business side's not my thing. All I can say is general consensus is 'be careful'." His curiosity was piqued, however, and he wondered just what this man wanted with the somewhat infamous woman. Probably none of his business... but still. Curiosity was a hard thing to deny, though caution too had its place.

"Ah..." Topher replied dumbly as his smile grew a little wooden. "That's....encouraging." He took a quick exchange of breath and looked at his watch again. "Well, I'll be off to my doom, now. Thanks for showing me the road." He gave a soft chuckle and shook his head. Seriously, why had Darius picked him?

"Doom?" He asked, arching a brow, "You're an optimistic one, aren't you?" It was, perhaps, a sarcastic remark and he cast a sidelong look at his laptop then, seeming to come to a decision, slipped it into his satchel, "Less doom-likely if I come along? I've never met her... want to see if the rumours are true. If you don't mind? You won't get lost, then." Hoisting the strap over his shoulder, the slender student made a great show of 'preparing' for this escort.

Topher looked mildly surprised at the help, but after he registered what had been said he grinned full out. "Actually, that would be great. She'd probably be a little less scary if I was with a h--" He cut himself off with a cough and ended lamely, "an actual student, rather than a visitor." He glanced down the wall in the direction they were meant to go and hooked his thumbs through his belt loops. "Shall we head out then? Er, I'm Topher, by the way." He extended a hand to the other boy in a firm handshake. "Thanks again, man."

"And a student knows these walls well enough to escape easily." He jested, "Just in case things go south." Winking, he took Topher's hand and shook it with a surprisingly firm grip, "Daeron. Daeron Hould, Computing Science Fourth Year, First Class Honours, at your service. Not much of a title now but it will be... when I get out into the 'real world'." He grinned, obviously a man with a dream.

Topher looked suitably impression. "I'm just Topher Bier." He replied, a little self-consciously. "I didn't go to college. Life took me down a different path, and dropped me at a garage. I'm training to be a mechanic now." It seemed a silly thing to offer, but he felt he had to say something to rationalize why he hadn't opted to enroll for four years of self-torment and debt. He began walking, the long-legged stride of an athlete and glanced sidelong at the Daeron as he went. "So, these friends of yours that went to see Miss Allusion...Why'd they go see her?"

"Hey man, there's as much money in cars as there is in computers. Besides, knowing how to program doesn't mean much if you can't fix an engine in the middle of nowhere." He chuckled, "Nothing wrong with being a mechanic." Walking alongside, Daeron shrugged, "Research, advice... whatever, really. I don't know a lot, I only know they're careful in their dealings with her... tit for tat, sort of thing." He made a helpless gesture. Such things weren't unheard of in university... but it wasn't something he actively pursued either, "Last time... oh! It was something to do with some high-level business theory or some such.... contracts and obligations and the like."

Oh, for the love of... don't tell me I'm meant to bargain over souls, or something? Topher visibly flinched. He took a deep breath and reminded himself that Darius was a good person, all lifestyle choices aside, and that this Demon was supposed to be on their side. "Well, I hope I can keep up with her legal jargon." He said aloud, quite bluntly. "I'm not very good at Machiavellian plots."

Daeron noted that flinch and frowned, "Why're you so uncertain? S'just another of the Business staff. And I'm not good with that sort of thing either... better at this stuff." He patted the bag at his side, "The superstitious mumbojumbo hasn't set you off has it?" The student chuckled, scratching at his neck as he teased the stranger then paused as he felt something come loose at the back of his neck. Swearing softly, he muttered a quick 'be right back' before ducking into a side-corridor and into the bathroom as he pulled away a sheet of skin, almost like a burn, save for the fact that it was textured.... scaley at the back of his neck. Stunned, he found a stall and sat down, belatedly scratching with some fervor.... but the only scaly patch was at the back of his neck... and yes, he could feel the bumps, smooth and surprisingly soft. He shivered, "What the hell?" Getting rid of the evidence, he checked the bathroom then leaned out the door and called down the hallway, "Uh.... Go on without me, something's come up." It was a lame excuse, even for him, but... weird skin conditions were more important than voodoo ladies.

Topher was thinking on a careful answer when Daeron ducked into the bathroom. He waited patiently in the hall, inspecting the vending machine, chunking coins in to get a package of dried apple rings, and was filling up his stainless steel water bottle when Daeron leaned out the doorway. Topher turned, screwing on the cap, in time to see Daeron duck back into the bathroom. "You alright?" he asked, obvious concern in his voice. Earlier thoughts of a serious illness jumped back to the fore and he was seriously concerned. What if this guy was going into some sort of chemo-induced shock and needed medical attention? Topher pushed the door open in the bathroom and followed him in. "Yo, Daeron...everything okay? You feeling alright?"

A door towards the end slammed shut when Topher entered, a nervous reaction on the student's part, "Uh... yah. Skin's been weird lately, I'm reacting to something... fine otherwise, really. Don't worry, just weird allergies. Don't wait up!" He called again, willing the other man away as he inspected his body and found he was rather hairless (not so bad) but his skin was peeling in several places, scaly at joints like his neck. "What is going on?" He grumbled to himself, picking at the skin in confusion. He was molting? Sick? Dying even? He had no idea... and his dorm sounded like a very good idea. Just needed to get rid of the stranger.

If there was one man who wasn't one to step away from a fellow being in need, it was Topher Bier. He was stubborn in his mild way, and genuinely cared about other people - even those he just met. Moreover, he was accustomed to consoling people who'd had weird things start happening to their bodies. He remembered still, all too clearly, how terrified he'd been when he'd started changing, and the alienation he'd suffered, first to his brother, and then to his mother. He had no idea if this was anything like it, but if there was something he could offer to help, he was ready to give it. In a soothing, non-confrontational voice he spoke as he stepped towards the final stall. "Allergies, you say?" He asked lightly, trying to calm the other through words alone. "Not severe I hope? Can I get you anything? A drink, perhaps, or something from the campus pharmacy?"

"Skin... irritations. Like... bad laundry soap." Daeron replied, distracted, offering the same excuse he'd given his friends time and again. His clothing had apparently rubbed his skin off... it was so weird, but he didn't feel ill! "Severe enough to... well. Never mind." Then he seized on the offer and nodded though the other couldn't see, "Something from the pharmacy would be good... some kind of moisturizer, maybe... Skin's all scaly. Thanks." 'Course, with the other gone it would give an opportunity to run... but he tried to hide that from his voice as he spoke. He'd never been very good at the whole deception thing.

"Irritations, eh? Like Eczema?" He asked, rifling through his pack as he replied. He fished out his well-loved bottle of Aveeno moisturizer and offered it over the stall. "My skin gets pretty dry when I'm doing courses in bad weather. This stuff always does a charm for me... Feel free to use as much as you want." He was still a little baffled by the other's insistence on hiding though. If it was just scaly skin, what was the big deal? "You can come out, you know. I'm not going to freak, or anything. Believe me," he added, conviction in his voice. "I have some weird friends. I doubt you can top them."

"Yeah... like that." He mumbled, silently cursing himself. "Ah... yes, yes you will. Don't worry. I'm fine, got a doctor's appointment next week anyway. I have some weird friends too... but shedding and molting hardly fall into that category. Man, I need a shower." He was itchy all over and the more he scratched, the more came loose.... He tried one last time to get rid of Topher, trying to put his most convincing tone into his speech, "You really don't have to worry about me. Go talk to your business friend, hey? Don't let me keep you."

Topher got as far as hearing the phrase "shedding and molting" and his brain jumped track. His sense of smell was pretty good as a human, but not quite as adept as some of his fellows at picking up that distinct aroma of the children of Gaea. He did a quick scan to make sure they were alone and then let his bear snout come out to better smell with... He breathed deeply, that distinct huffling sound of a big animal sniffing the air. He picked up the scent of reptile, and fear, and a mix of annoyance and distraction. He shook out the snout, and waited for his face to revert to normal before attempting to speak. "Ah, well, no need to worry about that, friend." He said, coming back towards the stall door and squatting down so that his arms and bent knees were visible to Daeron. "I know it's a bit scary at first, but you'll grow more comfortable with it in time. I did." He paused, not knowing how much to say if this guy hadn't actually made his first change yet. "But, you're not alone. There are a lot of people out there with...similar conditions as you."

Daeron stared at the door with a look of concern at the sound of huffed sniffing... what in the world? He shook his head, better off not asking. You were usually better off that way on campus anyway. "Grow more comfortable...? What are you talking about?" He eyed the arms and legs that became visible at the stall's bottom and frowned, "Hey. Don't be looking in now... I'm not that sort of fellow. And my condition is just some bad skin. Jeeze." He was getting irritated, now, snappish and he felt cornered. For a moment be considered kicking the door then remembered they swung inward rather than out and he'd only hurt his foot. "Look... just leave me alone, okay? Go talk to your girl. I'm fine." There was shuffling as he arranged himself, covered the bumps on his wrists and set his hat and shirt back in place then took a deep breath, and eyed the other as he opened the door, face to face, "Don't know what you're playing at, friend. But I'm fine. If you need my friend, his dorm's on the fifth floor, room two-oh-one." He neglected to mention it was his dorm too but he figured he'd just make himself scarce if this guy turned up again. "Just fine. See?" It might have worked if his eyes weren’t slits, and crystal clear where before they were sort of dull - though that was easily attributed to overly long hours of studying.

Topher stood up as the door opened and Daeron reappeared, defensive and angry. Topher raised his hands, palms open and spread. "Woah, now, hear me out... I can help... I, er, have a condition too... Look..." And he extended one open hand There he allowed a little of his bear fur to come through, glossy and darkest brown. But no matter how you looked at it, this wasn't body hair, it was clearly fur. He paused, keeping eye contact with Daeron. "I really think you should come with me. You're getting close to a full out molt, and it'd be better if you were in safe company when that happens..." He paused, realizing he didn't know a whole lot about reptiles, and secretly prayed that his friend didn't turn out to be poisonous. The last thing he wanted was a deadly bite and a demon on his case.

Daeron's eyes narrowed, his brow drawing down in a look of... repulsed recognition, "So... what? You're a hair-stealing demon now? That's not funny." Still, he could tell it wasn't normal hair... whose hair grew that fast anyway? He shook his head, "Full out molt? What do you think I am? Some kind of bird? I'm not going to sprout wings and fly away. Safe company is my dorm, but thanks. Life's weird enough without following a fuzzy stranger around... What makes you think my problem's.... whatever your problem is anyway, hm? You're a mechanic not a doctor." Irritation was plain in his voice as he rolled a shoulder, clearly itchy.

Topher winced a little under the verbal assault. "I'm trying to help you, honest I am... You don't know what it is that's happening to you, I know that. Could it be so strange that I do know what I'm talking about? That I went through something like this myself? Here, tell me if this sounds familiar at all: You started having this random itching, and then patches of you grew...well, in my case fur - in yours scales? And they seemed to flake off, to fall out. But it got worse at certain times of the month, and when they did, you got this urge in you, like right in the pit of your belly, like you had to do something - whatever it is you love most. Like a burning need for it, a focused passion where it was all-consuming? And you started to get a taste for strange foods you never used to crave..." He kept eye contact while speaking, in the same, calm voice, looking to see if the recognition was there. He thought hard, what sort of symptoms might a reptile experience that he - a mammal - had not? "Heat?" He asked, hope that he was striking the right chords. "You started craving heat? Finding yourself unreasonably cold unless you were in the sun, or near the heater, like no matter what you wore, you just couldn't warm up on the inside? And a sudden sensitivity to motion, like it just captures your interest for no reason?" He stopped. He was nearly breathless with the tension. But he couldn't let Daeron go, not in the condition he was in. He wanted to make a friend here, and he knew all too well what would happen if he had to restrain him by force. Hadn't he himself suffered a similar beginning? He needed to avoid it at all costs, and if that meant inducing Daeron to change, so be it....

Distant Star - Log 06 - First Contact

2011-06-16T19:10:00.000-07:00

Distant Star - Log 06 - First Contact

"Curious." It was likely the fourth time he'd said the word in the last hour. Not more than that, just 'curious' in an increasingly perplexed tone. It seemed strange that he might need to confer with another about the results of the equipment on his ship. There was only two other beings in the universe he would ever deem to have knowledge surpassing his own about the workings of his treasure of a Ship, and they were a Prodigal Genius and a Veritable God, respectively. However, these were not the normal circumstances. And so it went that Jack went romping off through the ship, from the Navigation Chamber, all through the decks and down the ladders towards the door that lead to the Library linked to his Estate House. He entered in a long-legged stride, and swept the room with a glance upon entering for sign of his guest.

Viira was perched on a high-backed chair, one foot settled on the knee of the other leg as she leaned over the desk reading from the gift Jack had given her. It was quickly proven more efficient just to read in the library to forgo the recording of the books she was in the process of reading. In particular, this one seemed to be a manual on the movements and interactions of celestial bodies as evidenced by the scribbled circles and lines and sigils denoting numbers on a spare sharkskin she'd procured. The fishbone quill was well stained and used the decorative spines at the top broken in places. She'd been diagramming the process currently described in said text for her own understanding, or rather trying to, when Jack came in. She glanced up and smiled, sitting back as she set the quill down, "Hello Jack. You've got perfect timing, could you check these diagrams see if my understanding is correct? I think I am... but it's hard to picture." She gestured as the pair of bladder-balls she'd been using as a visual aid with a sort of 'I feel like a kid' embarrassed expression.

Jack strode across the library floor, taking in the smell of rubbed cloves that his servants had put in the diffuser over the fireplace. He allowed himself to be momentarily distracted from his own course of action and came up beside her, glancing at her notes, at the page she was currently at (lifting the edge of Fnellian's Tome gently to peek at the text hidden beneath). "Ah, you've understood the principles well enough, though the theories are a little skewed in this case, you see..." He pointed to a slight orbital inconsistency and made a few lines of correction in shape rather than text for her benefit. "Do you see what the difference means, when it comes to the course taken to apogee?" He put down the bone quill and rubbed idly at the ink stains on his skin in lieu. "I actually have a few questions for you, Madame... I'm not sure what aspects of your world in specific are causing it, but something is wrecking havoc on my instruments. I do hope you might be able to account for it..."

She drew a few associated lines of implication then nodded, a thoughtful expression on her face as she tapped the top of the quill against her cheek. When he spoke his question, Viira blinked and looked up, tilting the brim of her favourite hat up a little more so she could properly see him, "Pardon? I don't know. Possibly, those chances are no - your equipment's so strange to me still. What's the question? Your ship's not, ah... damaged for some reason is it?"

Jack slouched back into himself, hips cocked forward, shoulders slumped forward, spine collapsed into a switchback on an S. "Nay, no damages... But, the instruments in the Navigation Chamber, the Levy Sphere in particular is nearly unintelligible." He paused, looking at her, and then realizing, he might be speaking Klergian for all she cared, he tried to think of a way of phrasing it that might be more accessible. "Er... The Levy Sphere... The, er...piece of equipment mounted into the ship's hull like...a nervous system? It picks up on Leyline sources so that it can pick them up...like a magnet? And relay them to the Alembic for conversion into usable energy..." He trailed off, squinting at her, wondering if he was helping or hindering the issue.

She peered at him, clearly trying to understand what he was saying but not quite getting it. Then came the explanation and a look of understanding dawned, "Oh, you're trying to get a fix on them? If you can do that, the world over would be impressed, methinks. You can't draw energy if you can't properly target them, right?" Viira seemed rather amused, "Either that, or they're messing with you."

"Messing with me..." He repeated uselessly, still squinting. Then he shook himself out and blinked rapidly, as if waking up. "Leylines don't move where I'm from. Or rather, they move in terms of eons, and so are imperceptible for the purposes of measuring or tapping into. Aether dust drifts, but it is a different energy source. It looks like what my equipment is trying to do is track aether dust when all of its senses are telling it that it isn't aether dust at all, but Leyline energy. It's as if a fish were calmly swimming through the sky with no water at all, and someone asked you to calculate its speed of flight." A short pause, a hand gesture as he tried to relate his analogy to the current discussion, "The Fish being a Leyline out of its element, if you see the light?"

She laughed, "They do here all the bloody time, it's next to impossible to find them if they don't want to be found. You're probably trying to toss a rope around the wind, my friend. Sails are better suited." Winking, she marked her place and rose, shutting the book. "If they're moving, it's because they're not sleeping... and I highly doubt any Leyline's out of its element - they're as old as the planet, Jack. I don't know much about them but the lore all says they're the most potent beings that exist here. I'm pretty some crazy cults on the mainland worship them.... and I can't really blame the cultists either, if those same legends are to be believed, you want on your side. I have a scroll if you want? It's not aged well though, so I'd be careful." She gestured at the door, then paused a moment, "Well, /they/ don't move - the lines that is - but their souls or thoughts or whatever do. Are your leylines not intelligent?" Viira seemed perplexed by the notion; Leylines were the stuff of legends and fairytales to the people of the planet, mainland and sea alike.

Jack stared at her. "Your Leylines are to our Mystics..." He murmured and then he paused, thumbing his earlobe. "Our Leylines aren't sentient, nay, nor are they alive. They are pockets of energy, same as there are deposits of ore." He thought on this, vaguely trailing after her, not quite looking at anything in particular. "If they are alive, with souls and thoughts, as you say, can a part of them even -be- taken? Am I chasing a Latimian through the woods, or is this honestly a viable method of recharging my ship?" He paused by the ledger, a thumb on the pages, idly pressing at its texture, ink forgotten and dried on his callus.

"Eh?" She blinked then tilted her head, "Ah, yeah, they can be taken. Though you're probably needing a lot of what they have to offer, right? You'll have to ask one yourself. S'far as I know, all the magic users draw their power from the Leylines - as in use them. I've never heard of one not being used unless they cut their connection off...." Viira pursed her lips, "I've never even seen one, to be honest, so I have no idea what to tell you. I only know they're tied to the cycles of energy inherent to the planet and that they're both sentient and capable of movement... and not the kind of people you want to piss off. Like I said, the lore scroll might be more useful? But if your instruments have odd readings it's likely because they're trying to track the Leylines as they move – the chart I gave you is just their physical locations. I can't do anything about where they actually are, sorry. They're not the sort to just come when called."

"They aren't, eh? What I would give to bring the Speak Box with me when I travelled. Unfortunately, I don't think they know the old Codes, your Leylines. Still, always was a good way to get the attention of all-powerful beings when you needed to." He grinned a little rakishly at old memories that had yet to lose their shine. "Summoning...summoning..." He murmured, and reached both hands into his pockets well-past his wrists, searching for something. After a moment he drew forth a crown. The thing was delicate and slender, a little too small to fit properly around Jack's skull, and instead sat atop his black hair when he chose to don it. The thing looked as though it was carved of hollow glass, with filaments of captured light running through it, and set into this flowing swirl of circlet were seven small orbs, like water droplets, each containing the light of a star, glimmering and flickering as if pulled from the heavens themselves. He lifted it in both hands, letting the circlet rest on his upturned palms. "May this finally find a use, I wonder..."

Viira stopped to watch him, a bemused expression on her features, "I still haven't gotten used to you doing that. I half expect you'll disappear entirely into a pocket one of these days, just curl and poof." When he produced his diadem, she tilted her head to the side, "And how is wearing a tiara supposed to summon a Leyline?" It was beautiful to behold, yes, and she was certain it was important - nearly everything of Jack's had some obscure purpose or two, she'd learned quickly enough - but to one not trained in the arts she saw only finely crafted crystal spun through with light. Meanwhile, as Jack donned the diadem, a ripple played out across the ambient, passive energies that permeated the channels of connection the Leylines often considered private. A new figure, a soul wholly alien to them, and it caught attention immediately. Three consciousnesses flashed like lightning across Jack's and though two swiftly faded, one lingered and an impression of a figure, humanoid in shape and lit from within seemed to regard him curiously for a moment before it too faded. Viira, ignorant of this, fixed the tilt of her hat as she turned to go, "What does it do?"

Jack placed the thing on his dark hair, the twinkling sending a play of reflected light cascading across his dark locks, his quet sticking up from under it like untended bed head. It sat a little askew, looking completely incongruent with the rest of his appearance and attire. Seemingly careless of how silly he looked, he swept his glance around the room, although his depth of sight was clearly not fixed on the material. Jack registered the shock of the minds pressing against his and swayed nearly drunkenly on his feet. His sky-legs gave him enough flexibility not to topple, and swiftly enough two of the minds drifted away, leaving him to pull himself upright again. One remained, yet, one shining being, as if it too were made of the materials used to craft the Diadem. Jack had enough time to register this, and then it left him, physically, he left the loss of it as if a great sorrow passed through him. He staggered again and then, hands shaking, reached out for the nearest stable thing to steady himself. He forced himself to breathe deeply, felt his heartbeat more quickened in his ribs than it had been in a decade or more. As he forced himself back to calm, he became away of Viira's voice, though it was nothing more than unintelligible sounds to him. He squinted, saw a smudge, an impression, and tore the crown off with an effort. The solid world clarified, Viira resolved from a smudge and he gasped, "Whot??"

Viira had stepped closer to him as he swayed and reached blindly out, offering her shoulder to steady him, a look of concern on her features, "I said 'what does it do'? Are you alright? You're pale..." The tone in her voice warned him not to lie and shrug it off. "Jack...." Elsewhere, a flurry of communications flickered across the Leylines, causing wards and spells to fluctuate oddly for several moments before they settled. When it did, a single mind seemed to focus and pull together into a knot of energy. Heartbeats later a young man gasped as his eyes burned and shone bright, glowing like starlight, then he too settled, rose and walked out the door, leaving the hot meal he'd just sat down to untouched.

"I can't die, remember... No need to worry about me..." He replied hoarsely, still trying to accustom himself to the shock of that. He hadn't needed to use this one of his Treasures before, as the Mystics were visible to the naked eye unless they were using their Arts to cloak themselves. He hadn't known what to expect, especially not on another world... Finding her eyes, he held her glance for a moment and in all seriousness said, "I'm not sure if that did anything I'd expected, but I think whatever it was that just happened...worked." He exhaled then, and swaying over to the nearest chair sank into it. "By the Leylines, I need a sit."

"Rergardless, you still feel pain, you're not a block of wood." She frowned at him then huffed, "Immortal or not, I'm still going to worry if Mr. Wonderpockets suddenly staggers.... though I'm half convinced you're made of noodles now too." Viira chuckled and shook her head, finding it was easy to forget he was as infamous and tough as he said he was. "That's all well and good, but what's it actually for? I'm assuming it's some new... gizmo of yours?" She grinned, having picked up a new word she rather liked the sound of from the texts.

"Aye, constant pain... Though that is not what currently ails me. I feel as if I have just been plunged into the darkness of eternity, or unceremoniously into ice water after touching the fire of creation." he pressed a hand to his face and then shook his head, the Diadem still clutched like a discus ring in his other fist. "Never mind my ramblings; I think I am yet scrambled. And more an Artifact than a Gizmo, m'dear." He added, the hand dropping away from his brow as he sagged back into the chair, his gaze finding hers, a wan smile on his still-pale lips, the grey eyes deep and dark with the weight of things he'd experienced brought fresh to the fore. "The Stellar Diadem, crafted for the line of Emperors of the Mystic races... Eons ago, by most accounts. It was said that then they were but a single species, not the many fractious races they are now, and that they held a time when they ruled the universe as a child stages wars with his toys. The legends vary, but the essence is this: The then-Emperor was gorged on his own power and satisfied with his lordly might to the point where he chose to make for himself a symbol that he was master of all creation. So, he plucked from the heavens Seven glittering stars from the far-flung quarters of the heavenly firmament, one for each of the Moons he ruled. He set them into his own crown, and replaced it on his head. When he did so, he was aghast to discover that he was but a small god walking in the world of giant, powerful, ancient energies that had existed long before his line had risen, and would be long after his empire had passed to dust. Humbled, and terrified, the Emperor spoke unto these giants of power and begged them forgive his hubris for being himself all-mighty. The Ancient Spirits did not care to heed him, except for one, (some say the youngest and most curious, other the eldest and wisest) and this being came unto him and said: Weep not little king, for you have power yet to take these seven suns from the blackness where they offered light and warmth to many worlds and all their peoples. Because of your power and might, they have all been snuffed out. You have the power to take away the light of stars that were once seen y all who gazed in wonder at the heavens, and now they are for your eyes only. You have the power to place yourself here amongst the powers of the universe, and be unseen. Horrified, the emperor snatched the crown from his brow and the beings all vanished from his sight. They say that he decreed that his kingdom should fall and his line of heirs go barren and fade away, for their dominance meant nothing. Others say he would don the crown every night and went mad with the visions it gave him. Others say he went on to rule for many more decades, and that after each great triumph or victory, he would don it again to remind himself of humility." Jack exhaled, the colour returned to his face and sat forward a little. "Whatever the end of the tale, the truth of history remains: there is no longer, and never again will be, an Emperor of the Mystics, nor an Empire for them to rule."

She leaned back against the wall beside Jack as he started in on his tale, crossing her arms beneath her breasts, regarding him with curiousity. Viira, smiled however, and nodded towards the end, "I think that's one of the checks here... one of the factors balancing everything. It doesn't matter if you're Korinthian or from the continent, everyone knows and acknowledges the Leylines. Our societies would be very different without them. I know there's legends where they take an avatar and incite change, level things out but I've no idea if that's true." She pushed off from the wall and arched a brow, "Is that what you did then? Talked to the Leylines? If I remember correctly, our position is nearest the parallel lines, we call them the twins because they run at the same angle and are the same distance throughout their lengths." Pointing at her feet, she smiled, "They run through the ocean's bed." "So if it worked, you got their attention?" She understood a little better now, why he seemed so unbalanced and wondered what it must be like to encounter one of the creatures unbound. "Did you still want to see that scroll or is that moot now?"

"Not so much talked to...as was seen by them. They know I am, and I they." Jack pushed himself with a grunt to his feet and waited a moment for the tingles of pain to trickle through his body. "Twins, say you? I felt the presence of three, but only one took form before me. A single body. But we did not speak before it left again..." He looked at her, considering her information and question carefully. "I'm not sure, in all honesty. I do not know which of them paused long enough to eyeball me, and as I said, it left again - I know not for where. My guess would be getting closer to it that stepped forward might make it easier to establish some form of normal - or at least closer to normal - contact. The problem is I don't know how to tell the difference between them. Would your scroll help discern which Leyline we might be chasing?"

"I see..." She frowned, thinking back over what she remembered from the scroll, "It gives general temperaments but there's no guarantee it's remotely correct - the legends tend to be three quarters conjecture. And, like I said, they're next to impossible to find if they don't want to be found. But.... supposing you caught the attention of those nearby..." Viira smiled, "I can take a guess as to who's who via that chart? We're not near the Prime or the Equator, so it probably wasn't them. Where's that chart?" She asked, tucking a stray fall of hair back behind her ear, "We never use that one otherwise I'd know it by heart."

"Never use it? A useful reference then..." Jack replied dryly, following her lead. "As I said, I felt three, two that left almost immediately, and one who lingered, stared right at me, then melted away." He paused. "I didn't get a long enough moment with them to be able to explain personalities or temperaments, I'm afraid though. I was left with the sadness, as I said, but I feel that was for their departure, not their sentiments." He was thoughtful, a tad retrospective, still clutching the diadem fiercely.

Viira frowned at him, "I navigate by the stars and skies, Jack, and the waves beneath my ship, not by invisible beings of power. It's a piece of information not many have any more, so yes a useful reference." Eyeing him a moment she stepped past, "Oh? They weren't upset? That's good to know." Her gaze flicked to the diadem and she pursed her lips, "Why not try again? If they weren't upset, then calling out again can't hurt. Can it?" She shrugged, "Beats the chart if you can ask one directly."

"I can don it, of course." Jack replied, looking around the corridor for a moment to no purpose. "But I recommend I stop moving to do so, or I might fall over this time." He had no more to say on the scroll until he had seen it. He knew as little of the workings of her world, and how they navigated as she did his, it seemed. It was a sentiment he was swiftly growing accustomed to. He drew up a fair distance between glass lanterns and, taking a deep breath to steel himself, once more replaced the Stellar Diadem to his dark hair.

She nodded and came alongside him as he stopped, keeping near in case his legs gave out regardless and watched expectantly. The thrum that had greeted him the first time he'd donned the circlet did so once more in an almost idle answer to some unintentional call. Nearly immediately a shudder rippled through the plane of awareness and a section seemed to grow cold, dark... empty, as if the space was in fact there but something had chosen to exclude him. The fabric of energies about him warped and shifted as the rest of the ambient forces reflexively picked up the slack and the cold drifted into a distant chill. In the heartbeats of that reaction, which carried tones of discomfort, the being from before suddenly sighed, the sound as if at Jack's ear. No words were spoken, simply impressions given. Firstly, Jack's toys were irritating in the way sand in the trousers were irritating. Secondly, patience... and thirdly, a half joking quip about caution with such things lest he burn his mind out. There was an undercurrent of discomfort too, but it seemed to tolerate the sensation of Jack's consciousness long enough to impart its sentiments before it too went cold and the threads of energy Jack's diadem were drawing on and connected to cut off entirely. It was more abrupt then it was rough, like cutting power to a music player.

Jack paid close attention to the responses, and as swiftly as he could without seeming rude or careless for their warnings and chill greetings, he pushed out his thought in his words: "I am Black Jack Finnegan of Terrene - a world far from yours. I have been stranded here, and do not wish or mean to disrupt the world's fabric any more than I already have done... I am in need of energy to repower my ship and so return to my own world. Would you be willing to co-operate with me and my equipment long enough to help me home?" His words rippled out from him, as if a vibration on a violin string, melodious and strong. Though he knew he spoke words of his own tongue, to his ears (and to Viira listening) they sounded only like song, and the song that Jack's spirit sang was fraught with sorrow, with great weight of conscience, with heartbreak and loss, a deep, tireless existence without end, rippling on and on despite the sands of time. His was a soul made of a stone that could not be eroded, a metal that could not be corrupted, and the depth of it vibrated beneath the notes of his actions, his worth and his destiny in a beautiful but haunting melody.

It was, perhaps, the song of his soul that drew the attentive one back more so then the request that came with the melody. Strings of light flared across Jack's vision, visible, empowered spider webs of whatever made up the Leyline's plane. They wafted in the air a moment, drifting in the slight air currents of the Ptarmigan’s room before they drew nearer and through Jack. As bright as they were, their insubstantial nature was surprising and when then drifted within in him, a voice very much akin to a youth's, though its feel belied its age, sounded in Jack's mind, "I said patience. Understood? We've noticed your presence from the moment you tore through us, it's unkind to give a stranger such an ache of the body, you understand." The being seemed to arch a brow, quirk a lip, "You're also very loud. Simmer down young one. Wait. Your ship makes port soon, yes? Meet me there. Look for the gawkers." A laugh and a wave and the threads faded, drifting into transparency once more, "And don't use that device again. You have any idea how irritating it is?"

"I haven't any idea no. In an attempt to contact you did I use it..." Jack replied humbly. "If you forbid its use here, I will heed your wishes, of course, but then how ought I contact you?" He replied, leaving all other feelings and responses to the warning and the admonishment for the silence. He was not about to apologize again, as his speaking to them this way seemed an irritation, it was best he not waste time of manners that served no purpose, to the point, quickly, and so quit its use as soon as he could. Though he did not mean to, the Diadem carried these sentiments with his words of reply, and even untrained as he was he caught the drift of them there, mingled in the notes, and knew that they, being more trained to this form of communication would hear them. Too much said, loud as he had been chastised, despite his efforts to say little.

"Use something native to this realm?" The voice returned quickly, bemused, "You utilize things not made to resonate with this world and so it does not fit. You're twisting the tendrils into knots every time you use one. You're a bright man, I'm sure you can figure it out. Alternatively, wait the time it takes to travel and speak to me in person. You're always so impatient..." The voice faded then and silence reined. Enough that Viira's words might break through whatever fog of vision Jack might be in. "Jack? Well? What's going on? Did it work?" Her head was tilted to the side, watchful and more than a little curious. "What's it like? To speak to them?"

Jack blinked at that. He had been accused of many things, sloth, laziness, carelessness, rashness, but impatience? Never, if anything he took too much time because he had it to burn. His efforts for haste here were to their benefit...were they not? Nevermind. He removed the Diadem and breathed deeply as the world bowed and wobbled and then returned to normal. He cleared his senses enough that he heard the last two questions and focused his stormy glance on her. "In person, it said. Am I to expect some manner of flesh and blood, or shall I simply look for a cluster of lights in port?" he felt the tingling roll through him, and the itch of pain as his Mark of Eight devoured the sensation in the effort to return him to his ever-stasis. "We must make to port, and soon, I think, so as not to keep your fleshy Leyline waiting." He glanced once more at the diadem and then stuffed it back into his pocket. "I am not to use anymore of my gadgets, I am told." He grumbled mostly to himself, but aloud. Not use them...not use them? Had they no idea that they were his charge, his purpose? No, likely not. Jack, Jack, here you are not Black Jack Finnegan, here you are simply Jonothan...skip even the Lord. You are nothing to them but a flea, one best shook off quickly, remember that.

Puppetry of the Spine (Wayward Saga)

2011-05-30T23:13:00.000-07:00

Billy: *Picking up speed behind Garret, his arms flapping awkardly he rounds the corner seeing a group of people. Stopping suddenly at seeing eveyone he sees a girls with scales all over her body and just stares for a moment. Breaking out of his stupor when his stomach rumbles loudly* Uh....you must be the friends Garret was talking about....uh....you guys didn't find any food did you?

Ira: *frowns, flustered and at a loss* Look...I said I'm sorry... What do you want me to do, huh? We tried our best... We aren't at a deadend here. We're all together again, and now...we've got even more help... *steps closer, leaning forward with his face and keeps his hands tucked tightly in his armpits* We'll find some answers, okay? Just...please....please don't cry, it breaks the heart, girl.

Taryn: *turns at the sound of Garret's voice* You idiot! What the hell are you doing running around with a headwound? *catches sight of Billy* Who on earth is that? *snaps back to Garret* And don't think you can get past me by distracting me with some kid, you shouldn't have gone off in your condition! *admonishes a scaled finger at him, her scales rippling purple, pink and blue*

Lisette: *still convulsing with crying, though hearing Garret's voice, it lessens slightly. She looks up through teary eyes to see him and a flinch of a smile crosses her face. She turns to look at Ira.* I... I know Ira. *deep breath* I'm try... trying to stop. Give a second. *wipes at her eyes with her sleeve* Anyone got any tissues?

Garret: *visibly cringes as Taryn yells at him. A mental "told you so" crosses his brain. He motions for Billy to come forward.* Sorry... but I couldn't just sit here. *sighs and points to Billy* Honey? Can we keep him? *he grins awkwardly for a moment trying to lighten the mood* His name's Billy. I found him out.. *waves behind him* ..there.

Billy: *Seeing these people interact with each other he wonders what kind of friends they are. They certainly seem to talk to each other kind of strangely. Looking at the crying girl* Uh...is she ok?

Ira: *a broad smile of relief washes over his face and he turns to Taryn* Hey, what'd you do with -my- coat? I had some napkins in the right hand pocket, between the ketchup packets and the Snickers bar. *gestures at the new peacoat* What, you're changing clothing too to suit? No love for my massive man coat?

Taryn: *blinks at Billy and then at Garret and starts laughing, relief washing paler blues, yellows and white through her scales* Oh, you...idiot... *hugs him tightly before turning back to Ira* What? I...oh... I was trying to stay unseen... *flushes scarlet a bit as she remembers fully what she did* Your, er, your coat should be by the crates. *calls over* Lisette, you alright, hun?

Lisette: *just nods. She's still trying to get ahold of herself after her mini-meltdown*

Garret: Yeah, she shed the clothes and dropped them over there. *he points to near the TARDIS* I didn't bother to retrieve them, so they should still be there. *looks over to Taryn and Marcus* Looks like you adopted one as well. Does he have a name?

Billy: *Looking at how everyone seems to be happy to see each other he decides to wait until everyone has calmed down.*

Ira: *saunters over to the coat and starts riffling through the pockets, pulling out the snickers, the three ketchup packets, a stub of a pencil, some elastics, a twist tie and ah- finally - napkins of the fast-food variety* Here they are!! *waves them over his shoulder towards Lisette and stuffs everything else back in before shrugging the green coat back on, heads back to her, holding the napkins out to her.* They aren't as soft as tissues, but they'll work in a pinch, eh?

Taryn: *watches Ira with a baffled expression* You're like my gran, all that stuff in your damn coat... What're the ketchup packets for? Or do I not want to know? *unconsciously finds Garret's hand and holds it tightly, the scales on her hand picking up the colour of his skin, then turns back to him* Uh, this is Marcus, and this is his coat. *taryn grinned a little sheepishly* Apparently I'm too distracting just in my skin.

Lisette: *takes the napkins from Ira and wipes her eyes. They're a little rough on freshly crying eyes and she can't wipe them all that well because of it, but the sentiment was there* Thanks... *fleeting sob* ...Ira. I appreciate it. *looks at the others* Sorry I feel apart... I'm just... just... *can't figure out how to end the sentence, so she doesn't*

Garret: *smiles wryly and squeezes Taryn's hand back* You can say that again. From what I saw, you're very distracting in just your... scales. *chuckles and staggers a step* I think I need to sit down again. Too much excitement I think. *looks to Ira* Did you say you had a Snickers bar? Can Billy have it? I kinda promised to find him food, and a Snickers is like food... kinda.

Billy: *Perks up when he hears Garret talking about a Snickers bar* That would great if I could have it,the doctors always tell me I have an overactive metabolism so I'm always hungry.

Ira: Ketchup packets? No one else here ever pulled a fake accident? No one? No...aw, never mind, sometime I'm sure you'll get to see it. *Ira shrugs and shakes his head, smiling at Lisette* Hey you did great out there. You should be real proud o' yerself, really. Lil Firecracker... *stuffs his hands into his pockets and pulls out the snickers* Sure...don't know how -old- it is, but if you -want- it, then sure... *tosses it over Billy's way* Over-active metabolism eh? They say I got an over-active imagination, so I get yah. *grins*

Taryn: *flushes scarlet and tries to fade the colour first before trying to speak* So..uh, what exactly happened out there? I saw a bright light...

Lisette: *smiles at Ira, then turns to face Taryn* Well... we found a guard, um, dead. This other guard.. *points at Doul*..was coming, so Ira hopped into the dead one and made believe he caught me. When the other guard started getting suspicous, I flashed him and Ira took him out.

Garret: *just sits down on the crate he'd been sitting on before and listens. After, he looks down at Doul and frowns* And this is Doul? Is he... alright?

Billy: *Goes to grab the Snickers Bar out of the air, but misses, looking extremely awkward. After picking the bar and unwrapping it, he devours it in about 3 or 4 bites, smiling contenedly* Thanks mister, that hit the spot. *Looking around at the group and their surroundings* Uh...so what happens now?

Ira: *snorts at Lisette's comment before recovering him* You -gotta- come up with a better attack name than "flashing" dollface... But yeah, she like... firecracker'd Doul here, and I jumped into him, knocked him out and brought him here. We were thinking maybe we could ask him some questions about the "Barracks" they were trying to take Lisette to - some guy named Relay. Sound familiar anyone?

Taryn: *peers over Doul's form* You think he'll answer out questions? Is it safe? Should we maybe take his gun away from him, first, or something? *looks up to Billy* That's what we're trying to figure out, really...

Lisette: *gives Ira a stern look and then shrugs* I always associated the effect with a flashbang. *moves closer to the group again, now that she's gained a modicum of composure* I don't know how forthcoming he'll be considering, but we don't have much in the way of other options. In a perfect world we wouldn't have to interrogate anyone.

Garret: *shakes his head slowly* I agree. We'll just have to hope he doesn't hold a grudge. Lisette, he saw you obviously, but did he see Ira? If not, maybe we can help matters by hiding you while we ask him questions.

Billy: *Looking over when the scaled lady that Garret called Taryn* Uh...ok, thanks. *Looking at Ira* Sorry, I can't help, I've never heard of anybody called Relay or a place called the Barracks. I only woke up here a little while ago and found Garret.

Ira: Oh, yeah...that reminds me. The other guard we found, the one who was already dead - he'd been rolled. No id and no gun in his holster. So, maybe us having a fire arm would be a good idea, because someone out there's got a gun and it doesn't look like they're on the guard's side, so we'd better be cautious. When we're ready to ask him some questions, I can wake hm up... *steps closer*

Taryn: *takes the gun out of the holster and holds it unsurely* I've never fired a gun... Does anyone here know how to use one of these things? I'm probably more a danger than a help with it... *holds it out like a bag of dog feces* What exactly are we going to ask Doul, here, anyway?

Lisette: *holds out her hand to take the gun* I work... or worked, for a law enforcement division technically, so I'll take it unless someone else wants it. *sighs, she has no idea if her job will still exist if she ever gets back home, but oddly enough, that doesn't really depress her as much as she thought it might*

Garret: We could start by asking him where we are. I don't think jumping straight to asking about the Barracks or about some guy named Relay will go over very well. *moves to stand again, trying to look uninjured for when they wake Doul up* Does anyone else have a bad feeling about this? *looks around at all the faces. Taryn, Lisette, Ira, Billy, Marcus and back to Doul*

Billy: I'm with Garret, if we can find out where here is, we can figure out how to get out of here.....Uh....if you guys are good with that.

Ira: Man, what would the Cloak do... *paces for a second* Well, yeah, let's hide Lisette for now, just in case... Garret, you look like our muscle, so stay there and try to look like a tough guy he don't wanna mess with. Marcus and Billy, you two aren't very intimidating, so try to...y'know, look like you're nasty. Taryn, you're the level-headed one, so ask away. I'll keep him anchored so he doesn't try to book it, yeah? *grins about at them feeling quite proud of himself for a change*

Taryn: Uh, okay, *passes the gun over to Lisette* So, if we're trying to look professional about this, then let's sort out our questions now. We want to know where we are, and how we got here. Anything else?

Marcus: *Over the course of this conversation, Marcus has slowly recovered his wits in succeeding to subsume whatever substance he'd realeased. Feeling a bit more normal he begins to pay more attention to what's going on. Taryn is holding hands with a grumpy looking older guy. Great. Marcus shakes that from his head - he needs to concentrate on the task at hand. And perhaps now was the time to come clean too. Better now then when it might be MORE awkward.* Uh, guys? I- I should tell you...

Lisette: *takes the gun and retreats a few steps, tucking it into her belt after making sure the safety is on* Okay... let me know before you wake him up so I can hide. I'll be close though, in case anything goes... hinky.

Garret: *stands talls for a moment, then slumps a little* Where we are, how we got here and how close is the closest medical facility preferably. I'm not getting any better out here. *turns to face Marcus as he rejoins the group* Ahhh... he speaks. Okay, we're listening. *squeezes Taryn's hand again, it feels good and comforting in an odd sort of way.*

Billy: *Hearing Marcus speak, he'd almost forgotten he was there, being as quiet as he was. He turns towrds Marcus with an expectant look upon his face and waits for hime to finish*

Ira: Hrm? *Ira turns to look at him, crouching by Doul with his hands readied, and catching on to the connection between them*

Taryn: *looks at Marcus in alarm, a sense of foreboding gripping her* What is it?

Marcus: *Now that the attention of the entire group is upon him, Marcus almost quails...They seem rather nice, all told, and he hates to think of what Taryn will think, but there's nothing for it. He pulls the gun he took off the dead guard from the waist of his pants, under his shirt, careful to hold it by the barrel, handle towards the others* I- I know what happened to that guard. It was me. I didn't mean to! He shouted at me, and came at me and then I kinda freaked out and when I calmed down...*He stops short...swallows then continues* I took his gun and wallet and hid. I don't know what's happening to me, but...well I don't think looking scary will be a problem. *he lays the gun carefully on the ground and kicks it over to the one dressed as a guard, across the circle. Then he holds out his hands, palm up and tries to make the claw-things again. Nothing happens, although inknown to him, Marcus' eyes have once again gone strange, looking like nothing so much as two tarnished mirrors.*

Lisette: *just pauses where she is, wide eyed* You... killed him? *she instinctively reaches for the gun, just in case*

Garret: *automatically steps in front of Taryn without even thinking. The fog in his mind clearing for the moment* You better choose your words very carefully. Why? Why did you do it? *the air around Garret and the rest is starting to get turbulent, but not quite as consistantly as before, in the warehouse*

Billy: *Hearing what Marcus said, he is shocked, but he can see that Marcus is distraught over it* Uh...guys, before we get carried away I ahve something to tell you as well...not that I killed anybody. *he adds quickly* It's pretty obvious that you guys all have some kind of powers and I think I know why I woke up here too. I also can do something that ordinary people can't do. *He pauses to see the reactions on everybody's face before he continues. Before he tells his secret he wants to make sure nobody with get angry at him*

Ira: Shit, that's heavy, son. *doesn't look frightened or alarmed at all, just purses his lips thoughtfully* Well, *smiling hopefully at the others, hoping to lgihten the mood somewhat* At least we know where the other gun is. Shall we stay on track here, and get to Doul before he turns into a vegetable?

Taryn: *before she has a chance to get defensive, Garret's standing in front of her and threatening Marcus. But Taryn -saw- him after he'd killed the guard, what a shaking mess he was, and felt a pang of sorrow for him* Hey, calm down everyone... I'm sure he's not the only one who's had accidents with their powers as they got used to using them... *places a significant hand on Garret's arm and steps out from behind him to stand next to Doul* I agree with Ira - for once - let's just find out what's going on first, before we turn on each other. *looks at Billy* I kind of figured you'd have something different about you...all of us do. You don't have to worry about it, no one here will judge you. *confidently speaks for all of them on that count*

Marcus: *Steps back from the blonde gent with wind building around him, suddenly regretting his decision. As the others speak however, he begins to feel better about it - after all, he should've expected a much worse reaction. A flash of gratitude goes through him as Taryn speaks up in his defense.* I don't know -why- I killed him - I just reacted. I have some idea how...but its not working right now... I don't know, maybe I have to be threatened or something for it to work. Please, can we figure this out later? I just want to get out of here.

Lisette: *eases back a bit as Taryn and Ira stand up for the kid* Okay, lets everyone calm down a bit here. *she's speaking as much to herself as the others* Like Ira said, we can deal with this later. Alright?

Garret: *calms as Taryn lays her hand on his arm* Okay... you all are right. I don't know what we're gonna do about this, but right now we have other concerns. *he turns to Billy* Yeah kid, I knew you were one of us when you wouldn't shut up about food. *he smiles and chuckles, making sure Billy knows he's joking* Okay, Marcus, we need to talk later. I promise not to freak out again.

Billy: *breathes a sigh of relief* Yeah, I figured something was up when I saw everyone. It was just confirmed for me when Marcus' eyes changed colour just now.

Ira: Really? I thought Taryn the Lizard-babe over there woulda tipped you off. *winks at Taryn to show it's all in friendly jest* Yeah, how's it going... I'm Ira, Mr. Personal Magnetism, apparently, and this is Lisette, Miss Flashbang, and Garret, the Incredible Gust, and uh, yourselves. *finishing lamely, he shrugs and grabs Doul's neck with one hand* Alright, we're getting consciousness in 3... 2... 1...

Taryn: Lizard-Babe? Gee, thanks Ira. *shakes her head and readies herself to ask some questions, after all, is she or isn't she a freelance journalist? This is about as freelance as it gets*

Marcus: *For the first time noticing something odd about Ira when he's near the guard...like a sense of gravity, or something...* What exactly are we going to do to him?

Lisette: *backs up to go around the corner, out of sight of Doul when he awakens. Just in case* Okay, please let this work. Please! *she whispers to herself*

Garret: *does his best to look large and intimidating, even with a splitting headache* The Incredible Gust? *he mutters to himself as the guard starts to twitch and regain consciousness* He's coming around, everyone ready?

Billy: *Trying to look as intimidating as a pimply faced 17 year old can* I'm ready.

Ira: *keeps a hold of him, just in case and nods to Taryn as Doul's eyes slowly flutter open, a low moan coming out of him*

Doul: Owww.... What the-- *struggles to move, but manages only in twitching his boots with Ira holding onto his spine* Hng!!

Taryn: Hi there Mr. Doul. We'd like to ask you a couple questions. It'd be better for everyone if you just answered us as concisely as you could so we can all go our separate ways, alright? First things first - where exactly are we right now? *fails entirely at being intimidating, and just sounds like an avid paparazzi reporter*

Marcus: *Shudders a bit at seeing the guard struggle with Ira's hand apparently -in his body holding tight to his spine- but then remembers that he's supposed to be terrifying. He does his best to attain the look of sullen, careless arrogance and elegant danger he sees on his friends at the goth club - a look he so badly wanted to attain. Maybe then he'd come into his own right? People respect someone with that look. What he achievs is remarkably close considering his slim build and that he was wearing ratting black jeans and a slim fitting T-shirt with some fishnet he cut out of a pair of stockings over his arms. In fact the look is only comprimised by the fact the he is clearly trying so hard to achieve it.*

Lisette: *simply waits, listening intently at the answers to come*

Garret: *stands with his chest puffed out, hands on his hips in his best impersonation of the mechanics, dock workers and general blue collar folks he knows. He's never been a scrapper, but he's seen them and does his best to look like one right now.*

Billy: *Impressed by the conciseness of Taryn's questions stands quietly waiting for the guy stuck to the end of Ira's arm to answer, though he does admit to himself that that is kinda odd, even for this bunch*

Ira: *twinges the guard's neck ever so slgihtly, making him squirm again fruitlessly* It's really best for -you- that you answer quickly if you wanna still be able to walk away when we're done... *ira's growl is actually one he's had to use before, a nasty, gritty sound, one completely at odds with his usual happy-go-lucky countenance*

Doul: Agkh!! Ah...okay...okay...It's just a storage complex for Phaeton Development and Industry, just preshipping cargo... *breathing heavily through his nose, half-snorting from the pain and gritting his teeth between sentances*

Taryn: Alright... And what city is this? How far from this complex is the nearest road, transport system or hospital? *Isn't sure what the Phaeton complex has to do with anything, but knows better than to throw out facts in case they come in handy. she tacks another question onto her mental list and keeps eyecontact with the struggling Doul*

Marcus: *Simply waits, doing his best to ignore the guard's pain and thinks on what he's learned...Feyten? Who the hell are they?*

Lisette: *waits, listening as she has been. Her conscience is bugging her a little, but she knows they're fresh out of options overall. Still, she prays Doul is cooperative enough and no one gets hurt*

Garret: *growls in a low baritone, trying to sound tough, as he waits for each of Doul's answers*

Billy: *Waits until Doul finishes telling everything he knows*

Ira: *keeps a firm grip but doesn't say much else, just breathing down Doul's neck a little*

Doul: What...city? It's Torfield, jesus! *squirms* We're about 40 minutes from town by car, but- gnnhk... but there's a supply train that passes through Torfield's industrial district that's about a half-hour trip... *snorts, his cheeks quite red by now* The only hospital in Torfield's Greene General on the other side of town - it's over an hour from here...

Taryn: *tosses a glance at Garret and shifts slightly* So what does Phaeton want with us? Why were we brought here - and more importantly, -how-?

Marcus: *Starts to suspect that the guard knows as little as his companions do, but nevertheless keeps his mouth shut.*

Lisette: *stays hidden, but takes mental note of what Doul is telling them. It seems that if they want to get Garret to a hospital, they're gonna need a vehicle*

Garret: *glares at Doul, he's not very happy about the information he'd getting, and that just adds to the intimidating looks he's giving*

Billy: *shocked to find out that he's not in his own city anymore and wondering just how it was done, but trying not to show it, looks on as stoically as he can to the questioning*

Ira: *quirks an eyebrow at them, having been pulled from the east coast aaaaall the way to the west coast* Shit. *he didn't mean to say it out loud, but it sounded just as disgruntled as anything else, and Doul couldn't get a good look at him from where he was lying anyway.*

Doul: It...it's probably not Phaeton themselves - they're a development company...transport goods mostly, manufacture gadgets for companies and military and stuff... It's Relay...he gets all the turn-ups... takes them off to someone else -- I don't know who... *whimpers despite himself, tears starting to form at the edges of his eyes*

Taryn: *blinks at that, her scales unconsciously picking up the colours of the bricks and the dirt and cement, making her turn a garish mix of rust and cold grey* Relay? Who is he, and why is he taking people away? -WHY- are people turning up on Phaeton's complex grounds? How many other have shown up besides us? *taryn is started to get the journalist's buzz on the story, milking doul for all he's worth, and planning to find out the rest of the story, one way or another.

Marcus: *Relay? That's a pretty cool name. Thinks Marcus in spite of himself,* Sounds like a smuggling operation, *he says, unaware at first that he's spoken aloud, when he does, he snaps his mouth shut with a muttered* Sorry Taryn.

Lisette: *she's heard the name Relay before, but now she is starting to learn why he's called Relay*

Garret: *remains looking intimidating*

Billy: *thinks to himself, this is just getting weirder and weirder. To find out that this has been going on for awhile is disturbing to say the least and it's starting to make him angry*

Ira: *Ira frowns, thinking about a couple strange things he'd noticed before this had started and in true nerd fashion begins to put together conspiracy theories*

Doul: *quivers as he watches taryn change colours* ...the fuck!? *tries to squirm again and his legs spasm as he twinges his own spine against Ira's hand* GURK!! Haa....hah.... *drools spittle before his eyes focus again* Relay runs the compound, he's got the highest security clearance... He can access parts of the compound I've never even seen, okay! Please... *snivels* I don't know why he's taking them... He's working for someone higher up, okay? I don't know why people are showing up... but it's always in the storage containers that they appear, and we got orders tat if we find them we pass them on to Relay... I'm just doing my job... *chokes on another sob* I'm a security guard for chrissakes! I don't know about any of this weird shit... *leaks more tears and blubbers*

Taryn: *frowns at him and glances around quickly at the others* I don't think you do, Mr. Doul... but any information you have could help us. We need to get out of here. We need to get back to the city. We haven't done anything wrong, and we just want to go home - simple as that. *she elegantly glosses over Marcus' involvment with the other guard's death and offers a small, pitying smile* Just help us get out of here and you'll never hear from us again, alright?

Marcus: *Starting to feel rather bad for the guard, considering he's just a working stiff, Marcus starts to relax a bit, and contemplates encuraging the others to let him go - Marcus was starting to feel a bit uncomfortable seeing the guard in such pain. For the time being however, he holds his peace, worried he'll seem weak.*

Lisette: *moves her hand away from the gun. She's heard enough to not worry about this guy now. So, she simply slumps against the wall and waits*

Garret: *shakes his head* Alright... I think we're done here. Ira... can you remove your hand from his spine now. I think Mr Doul would love to show us the quickest way out of here and into town. Then he can go on his merry way I think. Sound alright to you Mr Doul?

Billy: *glad that the interrogation is over; he was starting to get embarrased for the guy; he looks forward to getting out of here* I'm ready to go when everybody else is.

Ira: Alright, I'm going to let go of you know, but you gotta take it slow standing up or you're gonna hurt yourself. We'll help walk you to the nearest vehicle so we can get out of your way, alright? *slowly pulls his hand out of the man's neck but keeps the connection of the magnetism strong between them just in case*

Taryn: *took a step back and adjusted her borrowed coat* Alright then, let's go as quickly as possible. I'd like to avoid more trouble if we can. Everyone, keep your eyes peeled... *makes a motion for Ira to lead Mr. Doul back towards the Barracks*

Garret: *nods* Sounds like a plan to me. The sooner we get away from this area, the better in my eyes. *looks to Doul* You will of course, skirt any of your buddies you know are out there. Right? *glares intimidatingly for emphasis* We have a guardian angel watching our backs just in case.

Ira: *grins to himself at the angel comment and keeps moving forward nice and steady, knudging Doul along gently, coming out in sight of the distant fence* Alright, so are we going to use the gate door, or climb the fence? *glances at Doul's tubby form and shakes his head* Right, you can't climb the fence, to the door then...

Rise of a Tiger - Part II (Ul-Zaorith)

2011-05-23T17:54:00.000-07:00

Wilem quirked and eyebrow, pausing where he was. He kept a certain amount of distance from the stranger and took quick note of both his driver and any significant shadows nearby. Just in case. The driver interested him. She appeared to be a gypsy, a people Wilem held great kinship for, but that alone was not enough to earn his trust so quickly. Regarding the stranger he tilted his to one side, his smile falling ever so slightly. "Excuse my caution, but I do not know you sir and I'm sure you know in these times it is better to be safe than sorry. I do appreciate the offer as my feet are beginning to grow sore, but answer me this. Why should I accept passage with a complete stranger whom, by all appearances, seems to be heading in the direction I am seeking to distance myself from?"

Asarid took in a quick breath, gambling as he was wont to do. "I answer your question with a question of my own, sir. Does the word Founderline mean anything to you?" Asarid spoke it calmly, quietly, as if this were but a casual inquiry. He pricked his senses to be aware of any probing thought that might catch up this word and take alarm. He sensed no such tumult and was thankful for the dead road to ruined Calyx. "All else in the realm of answers comes from your reply, sir."

Wilem's mind tensed at the mention of the word Founderline, though he showed no physical reaction. He might have been born a nomad, but he was still a Tirivahni. He knew what the word meant, and more importantly, he knew what it stood for. "Show me the Tirivahni who does not know what that word means sir, and I will show you a liar. I do however, fail to see what bearing such a term has in our current discourse." Straightening his form, planting his feet and preparing for the worst as he hoped for the best, Wilem awaiting the next cryptic answer eagerly.

"What bearing it has sir, is your direction." Asarid replied smoothly, changing his answers to those most safe based on the answers he'd received. "You head towards dead Calyx, sir. There are very unsavoury folk camping out in the ruins there. Those too bold to be frightened by ghosts, and those too desperate to consider themselves much more than the spirits haunting the fallen stones. In those moss-encrusted relics, sir, what do you hope to find? Our caravan moves towards life and possibility. Would you give me an answer worth heading to dead Calyx? Or will you see reason and head towards a future less dim?" Asarid relaxed his shoulders a little, looking more an outlaw than a travelling gypsy.

Asarid's response caused Wilem to purse his lip and quirk his brow. Navigation was never his strong suit, at least not over land, but if the stranger was correct, there was nothing in Calyx for him. Perhaps he'd been in too much of a hurry to leave the last town he'd struck out in a hopeless direction. Wilem in turn relaxed slightly. "If what you say is true, then I am indeed heading in an unfortunate choice of directions. I have no reason to venture to Calyx, or meet up with any of it's unsavory inhabitants. So, your offer suddenly becomes more palitable. Though I would prefer another option than returning from whence I come from." He weighed his options more carefully now, but still had a question left unanswered. "I still do not see why you have brought up the term Founderline however?" He added in little more than a whisper, sure the stranger would hear him fine. "And is it not customary for someone offering another a lift to at least offer a name?"

Asarid smiled, pleased the man was reasonable, and seemingly possessed of some amount of wits and logic. "I am willing to bargain the cost of your journey with us that the destination we are headed for is not the City you've left." Asarid paused and tilted his head, as if he held back some immense knowledge that was just below the surface if one chose to scratch. "Founderline... what does the term imply? Freedom, safety, strength, tradition. There are those of our kind who long for these things, there are others who turn their backs upon all that we are. If you were one who would scoff at the term, or fear me for my use of it, I would know there was nothing I could offer you. If, however, you took pride in the word - as you have done sir, then perhaps we have more to discuss on our journey. Now then," Asarid added, turning towards the gypsy woman, "This is Naella of the Circle, our talented coachwoman, and I am Asarid Son of Iella. Welcome aboard our Ship of Dreams, sir. And who might we have the pleasure of escorting?"

"The terms means to me all you have said and more. The Founderlines stand for our very people and the great loss of their numbers in the war is tragic. To speak against such people is not in my soul sir, and I would take great offense to any who did not feel similar." Wilems words carried a trace of emotion he hadn't yet shown to the stranger, a great pride, reverence and honor. As he was introduced to the coachwoman he fell into a sweeping bow before her. "I am honored to meet you Naella of the Circle. Your beauty reminds me of someone quite close to my heart." He said in Greos Tirilys with a charming smile as he straightened himself. "I have no doubt you are as skilled as friend Asarid claims." He turned once more to Asarid and nodded. "I am Wilem, Son of Nesane and I humbly accept your offer of shared passage down these perilous roads. I trust I have not made a fatal mistake." He chuckled lightly to himself as he extended a hand to Asarid, a wry smile crossing his lips.

Asarid's full lips twisted into an amused smile as he took the man's extended slim hand and grasped it firmly in the Tirivahni custom. Asarid turned to the caravan and unbuckled the back canvas and lifted it to show the inside to Wilem. "It should be comfortable enough. There are blankets ther of the rack you can seat yourself on. I'll be sitting up front on the coach seat, but I can hear you well enough from there so we can continue our friendly chat en route." Asarid said nothing about the contents f the caravan, weapons tightly wrapped were strapped to the curved inner walls of the caravan, mounted racks of foods, powders, alchemical supplies and even tiny potted plants all sat bound into their shelves. Richly embroidered carpets of the Humoran style and plush Suoro brothel pillows were piled in a makeshift bed in one corner of the caravan while a set of cooking pots and barrels of preserves were stacked and strapped neatly in the other back corner. At the very back of the caravan, a small latchable window was open to the view between Naella and Asarid on the boxseat. Through this window Asarid's bright face suddenly appeared. "Make yourself comfortable back there?"

Wilem climbed into the caravan, no longer taking efforts to hide this armed status. He drew a couple of the blankets from the shelves as directed and even stole one of the brothel pillows and set up a hastey, makeshift area for his own travelling comfort. He adjusted his ersunbe as he took his seat and braced himself for the eventual start to the journey. He nodded to Asarid as he peaked in upon him. "As comfortable as I dare in someone elses space. So where is it you are heading friend Asarid? And why so interested in my opinion on the Founderlines? I fear you've opened a can of worms my friend and you'll have a difficult time in closing it again if you try to do so." He smiled, curious yet still wary enough to remain vigilant.

"Close it?" Asarid laughed, but it had a strange quality to it, a kind of insane furvour to it, but it stopped before a distinct impression could be transferred beyond a slight discomfort in the lsitener. "I am not one to step away from a debate, no... And this is one I wear close to my soul, indeed." Asarid paused as Naella lashed the asera into motion. The Caravan creaked and then rolled forward steadily. Then Asarid turned his face back to the window and grinned in that mildly mischievous manner of his. "I might be able to answer your remaining two questions with a single answer. Are you familiar with the encampment known as Yuellisi Stofftierre?" Asarid paused and then with a wink added lowly, "Or as the Occupants call it, Hethen's Ground?"

Wilem shook his head, not recognizing the locations name. Or at the very least not letting on that he recognized it. "Sadly I do not know of the place you speak. Is this our intended destination?" He shifted, improving his comfort level now that the caravan was moving and at the same time aligning himself to the small window all the better. There was something this Asarid was not being forthcoming about. He bore a secret within him that he had not yet deemed Wilem important enough to reveal. But while most might feel ill at ease about such secrecy, Wilem saw it as a challenge. He'd made a living at finding out other people's secrets, and he was quite good at it. Though something told him Asarid was not your average mark.

"Ah, well it is good news you haven't heard of it, I shall have to tell Baryx, he'll be pleased." Asarid murmured, more to himself than to anyone in his presence and then he grinned over his shoulder at Wilem again. "But yes, that is where we are headed. Many of us believe that all hope of our country lies in Yuellisi Stofftiere. It is there we try to keep alive all that the Occupants tried so blindly to strip from us." Asarid gave a dark smirk as if he held a blade to any that tried to strip Tirivahni of the smallest flower. "They built it up, slowly in the shadow of the fall of the old Empress. We await the rise of the White Tiger that some day will come to break these chains of bondage. What is spoken of the country wide as a fools hope is a dream very much alive there. You will see..." Asarid spoke easily, but still cautious about how he phrased things and how much he said. A trick of ambiguity he learned from the Suoro slavemasters that had once held his bonds.

Wilem listened intently to each and every word. It all sounded interesting and benevolent, yet he could not help but wonder why Asarid would risk bringing a relative stranger to such a locale. If it was indeed a community of their people intent on defying all of what the Occupants had tried to force upon them, why take a risk and bring someone who could very well be a spy into their midst? It made little sense, but it seemed not to bother or even cross Asarid's mind. What Wilem wouldn't do to crack that mind and dig into the truth of things, but he did not like being that heavy handed. It was more fun, and took more skill, to draw out the knowledge through the bearer's own lips through charm and subtle manipulations. Though Asarid seemed all to willing to answer questions now, he still held something back. Something important. "It sounds like a very good place to head towards, though I don't really see how prosperous I might find it. Something tells me the inhabitants would not require use of my services. So, pray tell, why should I wish to go there? What would be in it for me?"

Asarid turned and stared at him,t he smile twisting to something sickly, the poisonous green eyes narrowed nearly to slanted slits in his pale face. "The real question is what is in you for it." Asarid nearly bite the words off one by one by way of emphasis and then shrugged lightly and offered his twisted laugh shortly again. "Believe me, the uses you train yourself for are usually not those that other ask of you. I should know." Asraid shrugged his shoulders and lazily drew circles over his dark-skirted knee with a hand hidden by his bell-sleeve. "So, Wilem, tell me what is a tirivahni of such lithe limb doing wandering the countryside alone? No slaver alive to bind you? No conscription to far-off wars to run to...or from?"

It was Wilem's turn to narrow his gaze as he stared back at Asarid. "I have had luck on my side since the day of my birth and thus have evaded the slavers shackles. Perhaps something of my father has rubbed off on me. And I find I have little taste for the wars the conscriptors wish to send us to. So I have also made it my duty to avoid them whenever possible. I wish I could say I have never seen battle, but that would be a lie and I have no desire to lie to you at this time. You have been honest with me, or so I assume, and feel it only proper to return the favor. I travel alone because it is easier to slip free of the webs that trap easier when I only have myself to worry about. I do not overstay my welcome anywhere and thus I have stayed fairly unmolested so far." He smiled, brushing the dark indigo hair away from his pale eyes completely. "And do not underestimate my lithe limbs, I know how to move them when needed."

Asarid chuckled darkly again, more of a snigger than a laugh. "I have no doubt you can, or you would not still be in one piece. Simply mentioning it because you'd be highly prized by the Slavers, I reckon. Fetch a high price..." Asarid mused idly to himself. "Good qualities to have though... Kind of a requirement to get into Yuellisi, really..." Asarid and Naella exchanged glances and then he peered back at Wilem. "So, what is your trade of skill, Wilem?"

"In a word, information." He spoke without reserve because he believed Asarid had earned that much. "You would be surprised how much some are willing to pay to find out if their lover is cheating on them, what their competitors are planning against them or where a relative is hiding their fortune." His coy smile crept across his face again as he examined Asarid's face through the window. "Well, perhaps you wouldn't be surprised, but others would."

"Ah, a Peddler of Truths..." Asarid sat hard and silent for a moment, computing this. "So, if one pays to know, you let them know, eh?" He asked at length. "And tell me, what base of clientelle do you serve, Wilem? Are you true to your people?" He asked, a hard edge in his voice, like a blade being unsheathed.

"I am true to my employer, regardless of who they are. Though I choose my employers very carefully. I will not pretend to understand what you are asking me, but I will say that my people mean a great deal to me. I am a patriot sir, but I will not claim I have not gleaned information from our own kind for others. As I have said however, I choose my employers very carefully." He knew Asarid was setting him up for something, though he wasn't sure what it was just yet. He would play along for now, storing the little clues to Asarid's agenda away for safe keeping. "And what about you Asarid? What is your trade?" He asked, looking idly around the interior of the caravan and it's odd assortment of cargo.

"My trade is in Souls, Wilem. I am a good Cleric of the Gods, serving our Holy Iseapon most faithfully." Asarid asnwered, his face sober but his eyes dancing with mocking mirth. Naella didn't say anything, but lightly coughed at this. Asarid grinned at her, "And Naella, lovely lady she is... a Purveyor of sweet flesh and heavenly virtues..." At this the coachwoman let out an exclamation and whipped Asarid lgihtly on the arm with her reigns. He shrugged and nodded to Wilem. "I can always hope, eh?"

"Hope is a precious commodity friend Asarid, horde it whenever possible." He chuckled lightly again and slid into a more reclined position. "As for you being a good Cleric of the Gods, I do not doubt you though I know you are more than that as well. What still escapes me however, though I feel it must be tied to your earlier inquiries about Founderlines. What are you not telling me?"

"Who can say?" Asarid answered flippantly, throwing up his hands in a deft motion before dropping them again. "I haven't told you my mother was a Child of Nea... I haven't told you that I won my freedom from the grace of the gods... There's plenty I haven't told you. But why would I need to tell you any of these things? As for the comment on the Founderline... Well, it's always good to know who's company you're in. I like to know I'm dealing with a straightforward fellow, one who serves his country, and not betrays it. One who'd be willing to work with a founderline, is one who can be of service. One who is a Founderline, serves my ends better still. You know, getting to know your stand, Wilem. Have I touched a nerve? Or your Truth Peddler's nose got a whiff of something good?"

He had indeed struck a chord within Wilem. The Child of Wipo had indeed caught whiff of something in Asarid's words and in the brief physical contact they'd had before. It was good to know the talents of the Thought Drinkers sometimes. "Two children of a Child of Nea. That explains certain things. And in the presence of a Child of Nea to boot. One might say it an omen." He scratched his chin and wondered if it was an omen, what it was to mean. "Still, you have piqued my interest Asarid. And if the previous was a form of inquiry, I would gladly aid a Founderline without hesitation. Any assistance I could give such a person could only better our people as a whole. Though if I ever met a Founderline face to face, I would likely be humbled to silence."

Primal Crusades #5 - The Demon Fight Concluded

2011-05-09T17:00:00.001-07:00

Asia nodded and followed Mickey, then waited as he opened the exterior cover. The outside air was fully in her nostrils now as she scrambled forward as quietly as she could. As she exited through to the outside, she twisted her torso and reached up to grip the edge of the roof. Her body twisted at an inhuman angle, yet fully possible for a ferret, she pulled herself quietly up to the roof and scanned the scene. She saw the boys fighting the Harpy, but Ender wasn't among them. It took her several more moments to see where he'd gotten to. He was hunting. Assuming he'd caught scent of the other Demon, she slipped along the rooftop and followed him. As good as he was, backup was always nice.

Mickey dropped out of the window and watched as Asia went skittering up onto the roof. For a moment he wasn't sure what the hell she was doing, but then he caught sight of a dark shape scrambling along the power lines to the street and he recognized Ender's Channelled form. He could hear the sounds of inhuman screaming, grunting, growling coming from the side of the building. Things sounded like a right mess. Well, time to bring out ol' Sheila. He swept quickly to the trunk of his truck and, opening it up, brought out an ugly looking mangle of metal and wood. He'd designed and built her himself, and she'd been with him through a lot of ugly places. He let the trunk fall closed and heard a voice husk from above him:
"What do you think you're doing, little human?"

Rekjald let out a shrieking sound, half-laughing and half-screaming in pain. "Vaiii...ussssssss!" He wheezed as his wings spazzed out for the count and he went plummeting toward the ground. It wasn't far to fall by this point, maybe a good twelve feet, and Seth, feeling them falling, began scrambling to try and get on top of the writhing Harpy so as not to be crushed under him. But Rekjald had no intention of lying down on the job. As he felt the Were remove its teeth from his thigh, he reached out and grabbed Seth by the hair and shoulder respectively and sunk his own claws in where he could. Seth let out a stream of verbal diarrhea: fuckbuggerwankcocksuckingmotherfucker!!

Topher saw Morgan hit the Harpy with the full brunt of the hammer's head and winced a little as the Demon went spiraling away. Away and down. Topher lunged forward, on all four paws for a moment of charging force to be there when they landed. If he had any say, the Harpy wouldn't be allowed to get up and flap around a second time.

Morgan broke into a run much as Topher had, yet without the same speed. He trailed by several feet by the time they caught up with the Harpy and Seth. He didn't know Topher and didn't know how skilled he was at using the strength and bulk of his Bear form, but he knew that this Harpy was seriously regretting the attack now. Even as it dug claws into Seth, Morgan circled looking for the next opening so that he could bring more punishment to the Demon.

Asia continued to follow Ender without uttering a single noise to let him know she was there. She knew the Dryad, whatever it was, would be here soon. She didn't know which fight it would join, but it seemed at tertiary glance that the boys had the Harpy pretty much under control -- or as much as was possible. But where was Mickey? A bad feeling ran down her spine and she paused, cursing herself for not sticking close to him. She had been overzealous. It was too late to turn around and go back now, especially since she had no idea if he was alright or in trouble. There were only the two Demons right? She forged ahead after Ender but she just couldn't shake the bad feeling in her guts.

Mickey looked up with an unimpressed expression. The many-eyed form of the Seeker stood on top of the fence above him. "Fuckin' teleporters." He grunted. She smiled wanly and crossed her arms, the eyes in the hands folded across her chest swiveling 'round to stare at him as her face lifted up and away to where the fight with the Harpy was raging strong. Mickey got an unpleasant revulsion spike to life in his gut as those beady, unnatural eyes watched him while the damn head looked away entirely. Grimacing, he readied Sheila in his hands and set his heel into the pavement to brace himself.
"What exactly is that thing?" Vaius asked nonchalantly, her face still turned towards where Rekjald was screaming her name, at the mercy of three vicious breeds of Weres. Her lips curled in disgust. That would teach him to disobey orders.

Rekjald hit the ground hard, but his grip on the Coyote hadn't released even a fraction. Seth let out a wordless cry as they hit ground, the Demon's talons digging deeper into his scalp and shoulder, and with the jolt of sudden stillness, the hook in his shoulder slipped and got caught on something that Seth needed in order to move his arm. He scrabbled his feet, trying to find purchase, but without being able to wrench his body away so much as an inch, all he had were his claws -- and coyotes weren't known for their ferocious talons. He dug them into the Harpy's flanks none the less, "Fair's fair..." He grunted at the Harpy, grinning madly.

Topher had picked up a good 40km/hr in his dash across the lot and now came barreling in over the Demon. He trampled the bloody wing, a bit of tail and then, turning sharply, rose up on his back legs again and let out a huge roar. He was struggling not to full-shift, and could feel the fog of battle rage already rising in his heart. He fought to get it under control, and saw Morgan come barreling up after him, the mighty man shaking the ground with each step. He caught the other's glance, and felt himself sobered just enough to keep his shift firmly in Anthro, and then swept down a paw to strike at the damaged wing, and tore it from the socket, a few bloodied bits of cartilage still attaching it to the ribcage. Rekjald let out a hacking tumult of shrieking laughter and let out another cry of "Vaiusssss!!!"

Morgan swung his hammer into his left hand and pressed it down against any part of the Harpy he could inhibit while he did his best to wrench the claws out of Seth's body. He tried his hardest not to worsen the wounds, but it was difficult and he knew nothing about anatomy. Mechanics yes, anatomy no. If it seemed he was doing more damage than good, he would shift tactics and just punch any bit of Demon flesh that showed itself.

Ender leapt off the wire and four limbs out went sprawling through open air to scramble onto the telephone pole and swinging around the transformer, reached the top of the post. The smell of the Demon was faded. As faint as it had been originally, now it seemed disturbed – shaken or dispersing on the mild night winds. Scrunching his nose in disappointment, he perked ears, and looking down saw Asia hot on his tail. He shifted aside to make room for her on the post and hung his head down to talk to her without throwing his voice too far. "Good to see ya," he murmured.

Asia leapt and clung to the pole along with Ender and nodded. She paused and with some effort, responded in broken, tense English - which was all she could muster at best in Anthro form - "Where... Demon?" She scented the air even as her little beady Ferret eyes scanned the area all around them. How could it have just disappeared?

Seth was snarling through his crazed grin as Morgan's hoof-hand clamped down on the talon lodged in his scalp. Rekjald tried to fight against the strength in Morgan's grip, but something snapped in his busted shoulder and the whole wing went slack, enabling Morgan to pry one of the talons from Seth's body. Able to once again move his head, despite the considerable font of blood flowing from the wound and matting his greasy blond hair, Seth let out a yip of triumph, and shifted his clawed hand from the Harpy's flank to scrabble at his face for all his reach was worth.

Topher, seeing Morgan wrench the damaged limb to a point of disuse, circled around to the other side and sunk his teeth into a flailing avian leg, and bit down, cracking and shattering one of the bones, bits of Harpy bone shrapnel lodging in his mouth and causing him to drop the limb to wretch and spit the mass of bone marrow and fragments onto the pavement.

Morgan's half-human, half-Bison mouth twisted in a strange and unsettling way as he smiled. The Harpy's wing snapping and going limp piqued a certain pride in him, but it was short lived. The fight was far from over and while this thing was still alive, maimed or not, it was still too dangerous. He saw out of the corner of his eye, Topher rip into a leg, saw the torn shoulder where its other wing had been, and the thought that its flight capabilities were negated filled his brain. Now, they needed to negate its offensive abilities. Still gripping the useless wing, he twisted it and pulled with all his strength, trying to rip it from the Demon's hide. He didn't know how well or how quickly these nightmares healed, and he didn't want to take any chances.

Mickey answered by way of demonstration, and pulled the trigger. Sheila spat a spray of roofing nails soaked in a combination of antifreeze and gasoline at Vaius. The ever-watchful eyes saw the weapon fire before the nails were en route, and she blipped out of sight as the majority of the nails when clattering through the fence. He couldn't tell if any had landed prior to her teleport or not. Cursing, he turned to find her behind him, and kicking him in the jaw before disappearing again. This was what might be deemed an 'unfair fight'. But Mickey had been in the forces, and was used to being on both sides of unfair fights. He adjusted the loading chamber on Sheila, cocked the next round in and kept his senses sharp. Out of the corner of his eye he saw something moving behind the fence. Squinting into the dark, he pointed Sheila's muzzle at whatever it was and tried to get a clear shot.

Ender sniffed the air, and caught the acrid stink of the Harpy's blood, the iron-rich tang of Were blood just beneath it. It was hard to focus on the vanished Seeker with so much sensory noise. He shook his head. "On the move..." He replied, unsure of where she might turn up. He scanned the fight raging below and heard above the noise the sound of something being fired, a sick sort of 'twap' noise. Perking his ears he looked to Asia. "What was that?" he growled, low and mistrustful.

Asia shook her Ferret head and shot a glance back the way they came when the 'twap' resounded. "Mickey!?" she was able to utter before springing off the pole and racing back towards the sound, ignoring any danger she might be rushing headlong into. The few words of warning Meredith had given them resurfaced in her mind as she crossed the wires back to the garage. Stay in the light the Witch had warned them. It was too dark behind the building. If Mickey was there, he needed to get to a source of light. Or have one get to him. She studied the building as she approached at speed and tried to figure out if she could angle the exterior lights to better blanket the area. They needed all the help they could get it seemed.

Rekjald was thrashing madly now. Whatever mirth he'd had initially at the fact that three of these monsters were on him had subsided as terror took hold. Vaius had not come to help him. He began to wonder if she would come at all. Hyperventilating and in a great deal of pain, he felt the Bison snap one of his bones and he knew abject horror. Flightless! He willed his wings to flap, to move, one would not respond, and the other... A spray of blood arched through the air, splattering the Bear across the nose and muzzle. Letting out a terrified shriek he clung to Seth, spitting and eyes rolling in panic. His feathers puffing and his muscles rolling beneath his leathery skin, he began to flail and buck. Seth was wrenched about on the talon hooked into his shoulder joint and was screaming obscenities, the hook tore deeper into his cartilage, opening a view to his pectoral muscle through the blood that began to weep from the angry wound.

Topher fell back roaring as the hot blood splashed his face, shifting back to full human so as to better wipe the mire from his face, but finding it splattered over his hands just as badly. Letting out a sound of revulsion he scrubbed at his face, trying to clear his vision from the sting of salty blood in his eyes, and still trying to spit out the fragments of bone lacerating his tongue. At least half the blood he was spitting onto the pavement was his own, he was sure.

Mickey squinted into the dark, and the thing came closer. At first he thought it was a 1970s disco-queen: giant fro, huge bellbottom pants, loping gait... But there was a decided hue of green, even in the dark. Squinting, he tried to focus on the face and felt another hard kick slam into his back, right in the shoulder blade, knocking the wind from his lungs and the ground from under his feet. Gasping and flailing like a fish out of water he went up into the air, and came down in a bed of soft moss. Disoriented, he stared at the ground beneath his chin, scrambling for Sheila which had been knocked from his grasp. There was no moss here a moment ago... Somewhere it registered in a slow fashion, and Mickey followed the patch of it across the cement where he saw it creeping out from between two of the concrete blocks, somehow one with the bellbottoms of the mysterious stranger. Yet the creature, whatever it was, didn't come closer, despite breaking Mickey's fall. He got Sheila in his hand, and the air back in his lungs, and he rolled over onto his back, the weapon pointed up at the now empty-air.

Ender saw Asia dart off and belatedly registered her single, ejaculated word. With dawning horror, he took off down the pole, shifting into a full Anthro form to add to his speed, and took off in his ungainly hobbling Raccoon fashion around the side of the building sniffing the air constantly as he went. Come on, pick on someone closer to your own freakiness, Demon... He was calling out with his mind, endlessly grateful for his superb night-vision, yet still unable to pick up any visual sign of the Seeker.

Asia – not having any luck with repositioning the lights – dropped to the ground of the parking lot out back. On all fours, she stayed motionless, taking in everything she could with every sense she had. Slowly, she drew out her batons and with a flick of her wrist, extended them. That other thing was here. She could tell, even if she couldn't see it yet. What she did see however, was Mickey on a bed of moss, with some sort of crude firearm, and something she could only assume would be the Dryad they were waiting on. She spoke not a word as she waited for any sign of the Seeker. Once she saw it, she'd spring into action, batons whirling. She had no idea it could teleport, but hopefully she'd at least catch a glancing blow before it popped out of range.

Morgan was starting to get angry -- which is saying something, since he was so slow to anger usually. This Harpy was being a real pain in the ass, not to mention that the one stand-up guy he'd met in town thus far was being slowly ripped apart by the thrashing Demon. With a roar that sounded less primal than Topher's, but carried the same promise of aggression, he dropped his hammer to the ground and reached with two hands – which were starting to fuse fully as he shifted from Channelled to full Anthro form – to the Harpy's head. Wrestling it as best he could, he pushed it down against the hard pavement then proceeded to put all his weight, all his Bison strength, into pushing down upon it. He hoped to feel it compact against the ground and thus permanently steal the fight from the Demon.

Seth managed to wrap his arms and one leg around the flailing limb that was ripping him a new and unwanted orifice. Clinging tightly to it wasn't doing any damage to the Demon, which was regrettable, but at least it was keeping his arm attached to his body. He had no desire to start copying the Harpy's look.

Rekjald felt the pressure on his head and began hissing and shrieking in combination, frothing at the beak and staring with wild eyes, the pressure and strain in his adrenalin-fired muscles unbearable. He felt the darkness, the golden thread pulling taught inside his soul. He was keenly aware of how close he was to death. "Vaius! Lachesis ingai mod mekk hett!!" he screamed, a terrible hellish voice rising up from the coils he had come from. But despite his hellish strength and inhuman terror, the Bison was winning the battle, and Rekjald’s head went lower and lower to the ground, and then touched the cold pavement, and the pressure kept building, and he was shrieking at the top of his lungs, "LACHESIS INGAI!! VAAAIIUUUUUUU--" and with a sick ‘crunch’ his noise was silenced. Like a smashed melon or rotting pumpkin, his skull lay sagged against the asphalt, the skull crushed beneath Morgan's hooves, the brain mush within its shattered cage.

Topher saw Morgan somehow - impossibly - get even bigger, and fell silent, hands on his face, both stained in wet demon's blood, knowing with a dread in his heart that no action he could offer now would make any difference to the Demon's fate. Instead, he returned to full human form and scrambled forward, catching Seth as the flailing Demon limb fell limp, the life literally crushed from the Harpy. The wound in Seth's chest brought the bile up the back of Topher's throat and he gagged and swallowed, trying to disentangle the hook from the shoulder joint.

Morgan snorted, the rage still overwhelming him. He didn't really like to fight. He didn't like to start a fight either. But god be damned, if a fight was started with him, he will end it. One way or another. He didn't take joy in killing the Demon. In fact, he was sure if would lead to some major regrets later, but he did take solace in the fact that Seth wasn't in danger of getting torn asunder. He needed serious medical treatment, but he'd live. Or so he thought. It was only after looking up and seeing the fear in the eyes of the Bear, Topher, that Morgan realized he was still crushing Demon brain matter and skull into the pavement with his hooves. Pulling back, he sat on his haunches and shook the goo from his hooves. Silent. The dull, glassy Bison eyes staring out as the adrenaline dulled.

Vaius sat on the roof for a brief moment, watching Rekjald die. They would want to know why back home, and she needed to record it for the records. Once the life left him, she turned her attention back to the human. A Dryad had stepped forward to soften his fall. She scanned him: no, not a Warlock for sure...so why the sudden appearance of a Spirit? She didn't like it. Something was really not right here... She sat for a moment more, but then her Seeker nature won out and she blipped to the asphalt beside him. "Why do you have a Dryad?" She asked, watching the nail-gun swing round and blipping to the other side as he fired again. How irritating. Wasn't the talkative type, then...

Ender came around the far side of the building and caught sight of Mickey firing Sheila into empty air. Strange... Was he concussed? But then, no, before he could even finish the thought, there she was, just out of nowhere on his other side. It didn't even seem to be a lowered and raised Glamour. The way she moved... teleporting. Of course. He tossed a quick glance to see if he could find out where Asia'd stashed herself.

Asia was still crouched, watching. She saw the Demon appear at Mickey's side and then promptly disappear again in the blink of an eye to appear on the other side of him. She'd heard about teleportation, but never seen it. She guessed that this was the trick this thing had up its sleeve, but she didn't know how they'd combat it. She remained stock still and glanced around with her peripheral vision, seeing Ender at the edge of the lot. She kept him in sight as she waited for some sort of plan to gel in someone's mind. Preferably, before this thing killed Mickey, or them.

Seth was swearing like a sailor as Topher tended to him as best he could. But Topher's area of first aid expertise was that of a life guard. Seth was neither drowning, unconscious, nor had ceased to breath. Instead he was using very-full lungs of air to mouth every obscenity that had ever fouled the English language. His shoulder, a bloody tangle was still pouring red all over the concrete and while Topher had strapped the remains of Seth's torn-up A-shirt around the wound to stanch the bleeding, the blood was still soaking through the cloth. Topher looked up to Morgan and nodded in Seth's direction. "Hey, you a friend of his? We gotta get Seth some medical attention. This bleeding's bad..."
"What the fuck're y'talkin' 'bout Topher, y'sissy. Iss jus' a scratch, man. I'll be fuckin' fiiiine..." Seth croaked groggily, wincing and trying to force himself to stay present, fighting off the shock that was gnawing at his bones.

Meanwhile, behind the building, Mickey kept his back to the moss that had appeared to break his fall so the Demon couldn't get behind him, and kept Sheila primed and ready. Vaius came into sight for a flashing second three feet in front of him, then was above him hanging in mid-air, then to the right at a 90 degree angle. Long enough that he registered her, swung his weapon around to fire, short enough that if one blinked, they'd miss her. He was getting irritated, and forced himself to keep cool. If he lost his focus, he'd be a dead man here. On the up-side, the Seeker's ploy of keeping in motion also meant she didn't appear long enough to do him any damage either.

Ender kept his eyes peeled, saw the Seeker blip in and out of sight, and began to realize something. She wasn't just becoming invisible, she was moving from point to point. Which meant that while she wasn't 'visible' to them, it merely placed her somewhere else. He began scanning the area for her, both sending out his perception for the trace of the Demon, as well as sweeping his night-vision over the area. Distance didn't seem to phase her, but she had to be close enough to keep an eye on Mickey in order to place her teleportation as accurately as she was. He wasn't sure if she had a spot from whence she was teleporting, or if she chose a bouncing point at random, but this Demon seemed too calculated to leave things to last-minute choices. So, if she had points from which she was teleporting, where were they...?

Taves remained at the edge of the parking lot. Without a natural connection to the earth – naturally occurring stone, earth, soil, dirt, sand – he was trapped where he stood on the edges. He had seen Ender and Asia arrive on the scene, and knew the Demon would notice them soon too, if she hadn't already. He needed to do something to help... If Vaius needed a clear view in order to plot her course, he could offer them a tangled sky to work with... None of his current allies required flight, so the sky did not need to be clear on their account. Reaching both hands into the soil at his feet, he grabbed hold of the roots of the arbutus and oak that grew beyond the fence and sent his spirit up through them, and branched his fingers out through the sky above the parking lot. The trees groaned and twisted, the leaves, branches and twigs flaring out as if an explosion within them had pushed them outwards. The few stars visible in the sky above seemed hidden behind a lace curtain of tangled branches and patchy canopy in merely minutes. Let's see the Demon navigate that, shall we.

Morgan, still in full Anthro form, looked up at Topher with glassy black eyes, then to the seriously injured Seth. Pushing himself to his cloven feet, Morgan snorted acknowledgement, but instead of helping put Seth in a vehicle and get him to medical help, he pointed a hoofed hand at the dead Harpy, snorted again and stamped his foot twice, pointing then to all around them. He was trying to say that there was another Demon out here somewhere. He could almost smell it, if it weren't for the decaying stench of the Harpy. He didn't even try to speak in this form; he'd never had much luck in trying before. He hoped Topher would get the message.

Topher nodded at Morgan then shook his head. "I know, but we can't very well leave Seth unattended and go looking for it. He can't defend himself like this, and if we don't do something for him quickly, he might die..." Topher looked back at the wound and cursed soundly under his breath. Seth's eyes had gone wide and glassy, and Topher could tell the Coyote was trying futilely to focus his sight. Bad sign.

Seth was chuckling shallowly, trying with all his might to hold onto his toughness, but damn did that shoulder hurt, and he wasn't feeling so good... "Why ya talkin' 'bout dyin', chief?" Seth hazarded, swallowing hard, another gush of blood seeping through the bandages.

Asia remained crouched where she was as she watched not only the Seeker, but Ender and Mickey as well. She didn't know how to attack something that moved so fast and invisibly. If it was physically moving at all, which she was beginning to doubt. She reached into the sleeve holsters strapped to her wrists and withdrew her batons again, snapping them to full length with a flick of the wrist. If that thing didn't notice them already, it would soon, and she wanted to be ready if it came towards her. She was fast, but was she fast enough? She was almost ready to dash forward as the Seeker appeared with its back towards her when movement from what she assumed was the Dryad caught her eye. She missed her chance at the Demon as she stood stunned by the near sudden appearance of a canopy of branches and foliage. "Where?" she mumbled to herself before the answer dawned on her. She looked at Taves with a curious eye. What was this for? She couldn't see the big picture. Not yet.

Vaius' let all of her eyes blink in unison to teleport, and while closed, for that split moment of blink time, Taves began to push out his branches to cover the space through which she was travelling at light speed. The branches moved fast, but not instantaneously, and Vaius found herself blinking up higher and higher to try to avoid their spreading reach. She was getting tired, struggling to form some method of dealing with this cluster of Weres. She paused to see if she would be clear of the branches, and found herself floating up above them, a web of foliage and brambles hanging between her and her targets. She could glimpse their shapes, and smell them below, but there was no path to get to them with her blinking. There was a spot just near the building where she could set down by that waiting Raccoon... Only when she went to blink, she opened her eyes to find herself exactly where she was. She looked, and sure enough, dead behind her was the streetlamp and the lights around the front of the building lighting the darkness. She cursed soundly. The brambles had pushed her too far up into the light. Think quickly -- abandon this mission as an entire failure? A loss of a soldier with no gain to show for it? The Masters wouldn't like that... Or try to take something back with her? While she floated above the branches thinking, she had no choice but to remain still - and visible for a moment.

Mickey was startled to find the trees suddenly spring out at a few feet per second to fill the air above his head. He had a momentary wave of panic, a claustrophobic gasp for breath, before he realized the shadowy green creature behind him that had broken his fall stood at the heart of the movement. He calmed himself and let his eyes unfocus, trying to pick up movement within and beyond the branching trees. He saw the blipping flash as Vaius moved backwards, higher and higher to dodge the reaching branches. And then she was still, floating beyond the leaves, staring back at them. Too far for him to shoot and hit with Sheila. He thought about switching her mode, lighting the branches up with fire, but he figured his earthy ally wouldn't appreciate it much, and he was getting to like the idea of a fence between him and the witchy Demon.

Ender saw the branches flare out towards him and subsequently Vaius' retreat. When she remained still for more than a blink of time, he took his chance. Trees proved no trouble for him! He scrambled up the side of the building and flung himself bodily into the air, shifting into full form mid-flight. He landed, a five foot Raccoon in the trees and began climbing as fast as his sharp claws and short legs would allow, navigating through the trees, trying to reach the surface of the canopy, trying to find a path through the maze to the Demon to strike while he could.

Morgan smirked. Or he would have if his face was anywhere near human. Topher was right. Seth was dying. There was another Demon, but if they tried to find and fight it first, they'd be sacrificing Seth. He couldn't do that. With a deep intake of breath, the Bison features retreated and a few seconds later, Morgan was human in appearance again. "Get him in my truck. Where do we take him?"

Topher was thinking fast, trying to figure out who was the best hope for help, and who was closest. "Uh.... Let's get him to Meredith. I think she should be able to maintain both Taves and Saint simultaneously..." He shifted and hooked his arms together as a brace and slipped them under Seth's neck and good shoulder. "Help me move him..." he spoke under his breath.
Seth's head lolled a little and he grinned up at Topher, the eyes unfocussed. "Hey man... I thought you said you didn' like guys...why're'ya holding me so nicely....?"

Asia watched the branches stop their weaving, and saw the slightly flash of the other Demon high above the canopy. It stopped doing whatever it was doing, and she saw Ender take off after it out of the corner of her eye. She smiled to herself and reholstered her batons. Two could play this game. She darted into the trees as well, climbing for all she was worth. Ender wasn't gonna have all the fun. She just hoped when she got high enough, that thing would still be paused. She was getting tired of playing hide and go seek. Her Ferret form leapt from branch to branch, climbing ever higher. She lost track of Ender, but knew he was doing the same somewhere. Who would get there first?

Ender went up through the branches with speed and strength, but as skilled and vicious as a Raccoon was, they were not the sleek, graceful animals that ferrets were, and Asia caught him up and then shot past him and reached the top before him. He launched himself the last distance and broke through the branches to reach the surface of the canopy.

Vaius saw them coming and began to feel that rise of hatred and panic in her heart. She couldn't jump from where she was, that left levitation and good old fashioned running. Undignified running. But she didn't have much of a choice. She lowered her feet to the branches and keeping a little of her weight buoyant, began to try to scramble for the safety of ground and darkness.

Morgan nodded, speaking very little even though he was no longer inhibited by the Anthro form. He sighed, looking at his bare feet. Hooves and work boots don't quite fit together. He'd wrecked countless pairs before these, but these last ones he'd finally broken in fully and they had been really comfortable. Oh well. Life goes on. "You'll have to give me directions once he's in the truck." Moving over to give Topher a hand with Seth, he took the Coyote's legs and brought him to the truck. "Inside, it'll be snug, but safer for him."

Topher helped get Seth into Morgan's vehicle and then climbed in himself. He wiped his hands off as best he could, and dialed Meredith's number. When she answered, as briefly as he could, he outlined their situation. After getting the okay from her, he nodded to Morgan and hung up. "All right... We're heading south from here, towards town. Do you know where Brandle Plaza is?"

Seth felt himself being moved, but aside from getting cold and shaking uncontrollably, he couldn't really say he was feeling much of anything. He saw shapes, blurry and huge out of the corners of his eyes, but he was having a hard time focusing on anything. He tried to tell them that, but his tongue felt swollen and dry and just moved without sound in his throat.

Asia shot past Ender and for a moment thought about holding back to wait on him. But catching sight of the Demon above, that thought was quickly erased from her mind. As she burst forth from the canopy, her batons sprang into her hands as if by magic and she immediately scrambled deftly across the branches towards the Seeker. She must have seen Asia coming, and maybe Ender too, because she quickly started to run away. If run was the right word. She kind of wondered why it didn't do its zippy-invisible thing, but decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth. If she could get close enough, she intended to play a bit of her favorite game, whack-a-demon.

Mickey watched from below, a plethora of branches between him and the fight above. So, he did the only thing he could think of doing. He got up off the ground and went towards the Dryad. He dug his foot into a knot in the wood and with Sheila slung over his back, climbed up and over the chain-link to land on the other side with Taves. There was no more light here than on the concrete, but the Dryad didn't seem able to come any closer, and if that was in fact the case, Mickey'd rather be standing where the Spirit had more power, rather than stuck out with the moss that had broken his fall.

Ender saw Asia flick out her batons, and himself readied his own weapons. He could feel the power prickling just beneath the skin and fur, ready, but waiting for the switch to be flicked, for the valve in his soul to open so that it could pour out, devour the world if given the chance. Ender did not get to give it that chance. So far, the only thing at hand to consume was the branches beneath him, and they were a very tentative floor right now - not something to be weakened by overly aggressive power. Asia chased after the fleeing Seeker, and he knew that even should he run that direction, he'd not catch up nor overtake either of them. And so, he hunkered down, ready to block off the retreat if Asia could flank her. If not, then he'd have to fast come up with a second plan.

Morgan climbed into the truck and slammed the key into the ignition. He hadn't bothered to retrieve his sledge from where it lay on the concrete, it wasn't important right now. And he could always get another from the building supply stores should he need to. As the truck rumbled to life, he heard Topher's side of the phone conversation as was already backing out when the directions came. "South, towards town. Brandle Plaza. Okay." He swung the wheel hard and pointed the truck south and hit the gas. "Keep him awake and as motionless as possible." He had no idea where they were going, or who this Meredith person was, but if Topher thought she could help keep Seth from dying, he was gonna get his friend there alive.

Topher nodded to Morgan again, and with one arm bracing Seth as best he could, and the other putting pressure on the wound to help it to clot, he kept his eyes on his friend's face. "Seth, look at me, buddy..." Topher started, unsure of how functional Seth's responses would be in this state of shock. "Hey man, you can't pass out on me. I don't want to have to slip you the ol' CPR tongue..."

Seth let out a rattling chuckle and his eyes swam about trying to find Topher's face amidst the blurry colours in his field of vision. "Oh, cummon... 'Know you've been wannin' ta make out with me so bad, Toph... You're, like, the gayest guy I know...”

Topher laughed softly and shook his head. Had to keep him talking. "I am not, and you know it... You work with a bunch of male strippers... List them off for me, Seth..." Topher coaxed. Seth blinked and the grin faltered, then he blinked again, the eyes finding Topher's face with difficulty.

“List 'em, eh? Let's see... There's Topher....and Reese..." He began, grinning.

Asia continued to chase after the Seeker. It was nimble, but so was she. Catching up to it was proving difficult, but not impossible. She gained slowly, banking on her lithe ferretine form to squeeze through gaps the Seeker was too large for, even if it was sort of floating. She constantly flexed her grip on the batons in anticipation. She wanted to get some measure of vengeance on the thing, even if all she did was drive it back towards Ender. Maybe they could trap it then. She worked on trying to get ahead of it and rout it back Ender's way. But if she had the chance, even a fleeting one, she would not hesitate to attack.

Mickey nodded to Taves as he came up before him. "Thanks, friend..." Mickey offered, not sure if this creature could understand English, or speak it.

"No thanks required, sir. Meredith bid me come and give aid..." Taves could speak. He could speak very well, in an Olde English accent and very well annunciated at that. "Clever of you to come closer, sir. May I suggest you try to remain on natural soil until we are rid of that foul Demon aloft? 'Twould make it fairer for me to protect you in my task... Lo, behold, they seek to challenger her..." Taves pointed up with a tree root, while his own hands were still deeply lodged in the earth.

Vaius saw the Ferret catching up, and casting a hand behind her saw Ender in wait, hunched and pouring a great deal of energy into the world around him. She had a bad feeling, a sense of built-in revulsion for that sense of power. The Gifted. This was swiftly becoming ugly, and dangerous. She would not lie in wait to be torn apart. This was no battle of gain and honour here. This was a lost cause. Better to return with a report than die for nothing. Vaius rose into the air in a sort of floating leap, and with all her eyes fluttering as if in seizure she pulsed, faded and was gone.

Morgan just concentrated on driving. He trusted Topher, who had presumably known Seth longer, knew how to keep the coyote talking. Which was weird, since from what he'd experienced of Seth, it was usually more troublesome getting him to be quiet. He would have smiled at the thought, but this wasn't the time. "We're nearing the Plaza. Now where?"

Seth was rambling off the names of the dancers at Mercury Solid in an unsteady order, naming some twice, but talking. Topher glanced up to the road to get a grips on their whereabouts and nodded to Morgan. "When you get to the plaza, turn right onto Habersbrook Ave. About halfway down, it's a left on Measford Rd. Number 746." He checked the wound under the cloth makeshift bandage and saw that the bleeding was slowing. "It won't be long now Seth, just hang in there, alright...?" He murmured, not wanting to interrupt Seth's increasingly embellished list of strippers.

"…And then there's Candy Sue Preme...or was that a different club...? I might've been drunk then, coulda sworn her name was Candy..." Seth was rambling, grin stretched in place from ear to ear, a strained, unnatural expression.

Asia faltered to a halt as the Demon rose into the air and disappeared. She frantically scanned the area, but saw no sight of it. Demons were tricky, and this one seemed even more so, so she was not inclined to believe it was truly gone. She sniffed at the air, scanned everywhere her vision stretched to and even pricked her ears for any sign of the Seeker. Still finding none, she shot a questioning look back at Ender. She tried to see if he was having any better luck before she even moved an inch from her current location. No sense in stumbling into a very bad ambush.

Ender saw Vaius rise up, seem to have a seizure, and then vanish. He sniffed the air, scanned the area, saw nothing, smelled nothing, heard nothing... "Oi, Taves, you sense any trace of her?" He called down to the Dryad waiting beneath his canopy.

"She has retreated, sir. My guess would be that Hell has been her goal, if not her destination. If sir and madam would care to climb down, the trees tire of this stretch, and would like to rest their boughs..." Taves returned in his clear, old fashioned diction.

Mickey let out a deep sigh. He was glad that the immediate threat was gone, but it left him wondering about how the other battle faired. Things had gone quiet 'round the front side of the building. He took off towards the fence and scaled and vaulted it in a swift, strong motion. He landed running and made his way around to the side lights where Seth, Topher, and the big guy had been entangled with another Demon. There was a lot of blood on the pavement, but the Demon had already decayed to ash which was even now floating away into the night. One taken, at least.

Asia frowned. Although she really wasn't in full fighting form, she still was disappointed that the Demon had fled. She didn't like it when they went back to Hell by their own accord. She liked to send them there with at least a few reasons to not return. This one, she feared, would be back and that scared her, even if she hid it. Next time, it might not be so passive. "Down" she managed to sound out with her Ferret muzzle as she descended as best and quickly as she safely could. As soon as her feet touched ground, she shifted back to her Anthro form, just in case. Like Mickey, she was curious about the other Demon and how the others were faring. Though, she waited for Ender before going to see for herself. She was surprised to see them missing and the detritus of battle still evident. "Where the hell did they go?" She questioned, shifting back to her human form, sweaty, banged up still from the first Demon encounter of the night, and naked. The latter did not seem to bother her. Her clothes, baggy in her normal form, tended to fall off in hybrid and sometimes Anthro forms.

Morgan again nodded his understanding. When they reached the Plaza he made the necessary turn, then another when the time came. He slowed, but not by much as he scanned the numbers of the homes they passed looking for the right one. By the time they got there, he coasted the truck to a stop, roughly parked at the side of the road in front and hopped out to help get Seth. "Still alive, gearhead?"

"Gearhead...?" Seth croaked as Topher started to pull him out of the truck. "You tryin' ta get sweet with me, Bison?" Seth murmured, his head lolling to one side. As Topher got him out and gestured for Morgan to help carry him up the walk to the house, the door opened and Meredith came out into the night.

"I've gotten everything ready, you guys, just bring him in here..." She called, noting the huge form of a new addition to the Were community.

Ender made it down as low as he could and then let himself drop, shifting back into his human form as he did so, and walked towards Asia, wearing only his jeans, his shoes and shirt discarded when he readied for the fight. He caught up with them and saw Mickey was thankfully unscathed. "Everyone all right?" He asked, looking around and seeing the tree branches melting back to where they naturally should have been. He got out his cellphone and began dialing Topher's number. No reason to panic yet...

Asia shrugged. "I'm fine. A little disappointed that I didn't even get to smack either of the Demons, but I'm alive and no more injured. Which is a first in a long time." She smirked and went to gather her clothing to at least attempt modesty. After all, in front of the garage, even at this time of night, was still public. She didn't want to get arrested... again.

Morgan helped get Seth to the front door where a woman he'd never seen before appeared. She didn't smell like a Were. She smelled different. He wasn't sure what to make of her and in any other situation, might have been wary of her. But, Topher seemed to know her and vice versa, so he guessed she was a friend overall. He shifted attention back to Seth. "I don't sweet-talk carnivores."

Meredith moved aside and then directed them as to where to lay Seth down. She'd set up a make shift bed of blankets on the floor, and already had a hot bowl of water and a few towels and cloths, gauze and liniment set out. She gave Topher a kiss on the cheek and smiled at Morgan. "I'm Meredith. I hope we'll have time for proper introductions later, but for now, I have work to do." She swept around to tend to Seth and took his hand in hers, feeling his pulse, sensing his life force. "Seth, you sexy man, you... You know who I am?" Meredith murmured to him, smiling kindly down into his face, her waves of dark hair pulled back in a loose braid for a change to better facilitate her working.

"Hey, I know that voice... The Witch... You gonna magic me?" Seth croaked, the grin beginning to falter.

Morgan half nodded to Meredith. "Morgan. Is he gonna be okay?" he asked in his minimalistic speaking style. Not knowing what else to do, he stayed as far out of Meredith's way as he could and paced. "Let me know if you need help." He offered, knowing there wasn't likely much he could assist with, but the offer was there, anyways.

Meanwhile, Topher was washing the blood off his hands in the kitchen sink, when his cell phone rang. He clicked his blackberry on and pinched it to his ear as he dried his hands on a towel. "Hello?" He asked, and heard Ender's voice on the other end. "Uh, Seth's hurt pretty badly. We took him ‘round to Meredith's to try and get him healed up. You all okay?"

Mickey listened to Ender's conversation on the phone, and saw the visible relief in the young man's stance that it seemed all of their crew were still alive and kicking. He was glad for that. These boys were family to him, not just employees, not just pet watchdogs. He let himself relax a little too. He looked around and was glad to see Asia was getting dressed again. A bruised-up, young girl's body wasn't exactly in threat of stirring any sort of sexual response from him, but he felt a bit more comfortable having another layer of clothing between her and him.

Asia returned, clothed and walked straight to Ender. "Where are they? Is everything okay?" she questioned, figuring that he had called Topher. It's what she would have done if she'd had her phone on her. Or Seth, she could have called him too. "From the blood and... other fluids, I'd say this was the real fight here. Did they kill it, or did it escape too?" She hadn't been there, or even noticed if she had been, the ash of the Harpy dissipating.

Ender nodded as he hung up. “Looks like the Harpy was destroyed, at least. Topher and the Bison that Seth brought are both fine; Seth’s arm got nearly torn off. Meredith’s trying to fix him up now.” He shook himself out, letting out a deep breath. “Let’s get back inside. We’ve got some calls to make…”

Distant Star - Log 05 - The Library

2011-04-30T17:51:00.000-07:00

Distant Star - Log 05 - The Library

Jack let out a husky cackle of amused laughter and cleared his throat, pointing towards the doorway they passed through. "The Key of Troves leads to wherever I choose it to lead, you see. Each of the doors in my Brig lead to other buildings, places, and in some cases times..." He trailed off sobering for but a moment, but swallowed and looked back at her swiftly. "I had forgotten that if might not bridge the tear by which I came to be here. I am rather glad it does. Otherwise, who knows what would have happened when we stepped through that door. I suppose we'd have stepped into the dreary and boring storage closet that was here originally." He pondered this for a moment and then shrugged. "But to the matter at hand! Would you like to come with me for a spell?" He asked, an inquisitive and open expression on his lean face.

"I find it hard to believe that none of this is magic..." She replied, looking around again, that sparkle of wonder still bright in her eyes, "One door that opens to many places, a place in space and another dimension... How does it work?" Viira seemed honestly intrigued by the question, then looked back to him, "Does it do that often? Not work, that is." Pursing her lips she eyed him, wondering if she ought to be worried about being stranded on a floating rock in the middle of nowhere. At his question, she burst into a broad smile and nodded, "I would, actually. When else would I get a chance to sail the stars with fascinating company? You said you'd show me wonders, I would like to see them." She quirked a brow, "'Course, there's the matter of freeing you from my world first, right?"

"I never said it wasn't magic..." Jack replied slyly. "But if it is, I am not the magician. I am merely an operator of delicate tools. The Key of Troves was crafted by the Mystics, but which clan isn't exactly clear. From its uses, I would assume it was designed for them to be able to travel between their moons without so much wastage of energy. Perhaps something employed by their council members..." Jack mused aloud and shrugged. "How it works is trickier. All of the Mystic arts use Aether as their guide and sometimes power source. The Key of Troves is more a matter of connection. You put the key into the space you wish the door to start, and then you put it into the place you wish it to end. It can bind together any number of places - and I am sure, before it came into my possession, it formed doorways out there that none know of any longer..." He cast her a mysterious glance and grinned slightly. "But for me, it always works - hence why I had not thought to consider it might not now that I am so far from my universe." At her agreement to journey with him he quirked an eyebrow and gestured about. "This is not wonder enough for you? Standing in the nothingness and breathing of manufactured atmosphere? Under the glitter and shadow of a Horse that makes all we stand on invisible? If another dimension, in another universe, through a door that leads across space itself? Madame, you must enlighten me further on what it is you find wondrous if I am to be the 'fascinating company' you desire." Jack replied smoothly, the cadence of court rising a little in his diction despite the long years of disuse. "There is the matter of our departure, of course. I will need to also plot a way to bring you back here without relying on a highly unlikely repeat of the Round Coin's whimsy." He paused, sobering suddenly and, though still standing tall, regained the darkness to his eyes. "There is one other matter - that of the rules on my ship. If you are to come with me, you must abide by them, or you will instantly forfeit my hospitality, understood?"

"Mm..." She replied thoughtfully, "Have you tried to look for those old connections? They could lead to interesting places..." Viira didn't question his ability to use the key - while he might, the likelihood she could was next to nil as she lacked the magical touch others might have. She laughed as he summed the environment up and nodded, "It is wondrous enough indeed, my friend. And should plans fall through, you can bet your boots I will remember this. Really... I've known only the sea and shores all my life. Rivers, plains... mountains - those are things I'd like to see but distance has made impossible. And that crystal moon, that sounds marvelous." Viira cast him a curious look and chuckled, "Keep in mind star farer that I know wind and water and sails, not stardust and floating rocks. I will enjoy whatever you show me, and learn, hopefully." When he sobered, she stood and little more formally, the stance of a captain, or officer, familiar enough to her to inspire similar formality in kind, "I won't agree until I've heard them out, but if they are reasonable I will agree. You are captain of this vessel, Jack, and I know all too well how the laws can save or doom a life. Speak them, then."

"I can - and will, grant you - show you all the plains and mountains and rivers to fill a hundred thousand hearts. But I hope too to show you of beauty and mystery so profound that even in my two-hundred years I have not yet for words or explanations for it." He breathed deeply and looked out at the stars for a moment of silence. "I learn, every day I am bound here, I learn. It is all I have left to clasp my sanity to my breast - that search for knowledge in the hopes..." He trailed off and slowly shook his head. "Foolish dreams are not the topic of here and now." He turned back to her and very clearly began to enunciate his rules. "Firstly: I am no captain. That has never been my title, nor will it ever be. The Good Ship Ptarmigan is registered truly as my home and I her lord and Master, as of any land-bound estate. The Rules of the Ship are to ensure her and my safety. If that of either ever comes into question by your hand, I will not hesitate to kill you." There was no threat in this, merely empty fact. His grey eyes took on the coldness of stone as he said it. "Rule No. One: Under no circumstances may you tamper with the Good Ship Ptarmigan in any part or working. Rule No Two: Under no circumstances may you set coordinates or pilot this ship without my express permission - which includes any form of contact with the Navigation Chamber. Rule No. Three: Anything you learn about the Ship either through explanation, study or observation, may not - under any circumstances including death - be divulged to any outside party for any reason. Rule No. Four: Nothing may be removed from the Good Ship without my express permission. Likewise, nothing may be brought on without being scanned at the threshold, and absolutely no invited guest unless with my accord. The theft and or sabotage of anything on this ship will be assumed to be by your leave unless proven otherwise." He paused, blinking and refocusing on her face. "Is that all to your agreement, Viira?"

She listened with interest to start, then sobered as he rattled off the rules and conditions of the vessel. Viira pursed her lips at the narrow frame of curiosity the rules allowed, and noted that her own safety was never once mentioned. Part of her was irked and part of her understood... recognizing the rules as protective barriers arranged for him. It was a sobering reminder of the past that caused countless souls to want him dead or manipulated or something else. She met his gaze as he spoke, then held up two gloved fingers at his inquiry, "I have two questions. You've spoken terms of safety for you and yours but nothing of mine, am I easily expendable company then? I would rather know now so as to judge future circumstances appropriately. Secondly, to clarify. I am held guilty for everything that might go wrong on default? Again, I would rather know then not - as the penalty for guilt appears to be death by your hand. Additionally, I assume you'll show me how the appropriate features work less my ignorance be claimed at tampering, and convenient excuse for my death? And finally, should danger arise or we step into a dangerous situation, you will tell me in advance that such is the circumstance and tell me how I might face such things? Your universe is not mine, Jack, and I am aware it is like an infant stepping into the court of the High King. I do not justify ignorance but you place such emphasis on a lack thereof and yet provide no guarantee of dispelling such a flaw." She sighed, "I do not expect you to trust me fully, Jack, but on my word and honour as Captain of Stormseed, I will not jeopardize your ship. As for your rules, answer my questions and I may agree. I do not walk into such binding contracts blind, I hope you understand."

Jack nodded crisply at her. "The terms are for the safety of my ship, and my treasures, yes. I cannot die, Viira, and so I have stepped into things others may have claimed foolish in order to do that which I feel must be done under certain circumstances. Understand I have been set as some sort of guardian of these things that were deemed dangerous to be placed in the wrong hands. At the slightest chance that their security has been compromised, I am sworn to do all in my power to neutralize any threat." He paused, and the hard lines of his face softened a little as he relaxed somewhat. "As for my own self, I have invited you aboard my home, and I take personal responsibility for your safety. I have a great deal of tools and skills at my disposal. Those that I can offer will be in the effort to keep you safe. I intend to return you to your ship a little breathless from the adventure, but in hale and sane state. That said, I am under the impression that you are capable in combat and quick in facilities of mind and body. I would assume you would do all in your power to defend yourself, and I should like to state now that I would prefer that you did not wait until I came to the rescue in order to maintain your own welfare." He grinned fully then and offered a quick flash of a wink. "As for the second matter: I will do all I can to inform you of situations before charging into them - but understand, the unforeseen always finds a way to arise. Also understand, that these things are normal to me, are second-nature, are commonplace - even that which may be strange to less travelled citizens of Terrene in my own universe. I cannot know what will or will not be foreign to you - as proved in your reaction to standing here." He paused, looking up at the Mirror Horse. "Feel free to ask any and all questions you require in order to find footing or to satisfy curiosity. I am not one to forbid an attempt to understand or to learn. I would just prefer it be done from the pages of my library or the knowledge I have myself learnt. If ever you ask something I am bound to not answer, I will tell you as much so that you will know it is not of my own will that you are barred. My ship does not malfunction unless she is sick or impaired from her duties by an outside force. She can speak of who has harmed her, Viira. She will tell me rather promptly if you are innocent. Do not fear that I shall find cause to wrongly accuse you. Do my answers satisfy you at this juncture?" He asked, and the question was honest, curious in its own right. This was clearly not a man who wished to shy away from discourse with her, nor a man who - despite his iron rules - wished to exclude her.

Viira nodded to his opening, "You've told me your story, you needn't justify the rules. I am not so slow as to miss the importance of these marvels." She frowned slightly, it didn't take a genius to realize even his simple presence and the concepts behind the mundane things of his ship could prove unbalancing to a world untouched by technology. That his Treasures could unbalance whole universes was not so great a leap, given the tales he'd told already. She smiled at that, "I am indeed capable of holding my own in combat and am hardly a youthful, hapless maiden. I asked my questions simply to know if I might rely on you to watch my back. Now that I know where that line, of support and abandonment lies, I can better gauge when I become the danger you must avoid. I represent a liability and a great risk to you. As I said, I will do my upmost to avoid endangering you or the ship and its Treasures." She laughed, "Perhaps, for the first while, it would be safest to assume that everything is foreign to me. I learn quickly, however, so I doubt I'll be a burden for too long. And telling me the location of your library would be a grand start." His words had soothed her and while it was still hard for Viira to swallow that she was so very expendable, she did so nonetheless - to allow her pride to override her understanding would mark her too unreliable for the gift he was presenting her. He saw a larger picture then she did, answered to higher powers then she did, and it was something she could not help but respect. The weight of responsibility upon his shoulders was a heavy one. When she nodded, there was a formality to it and she swept into a regal bow, "I give you my word, Jack, that I will observe your rules and that I will understand the consequences should circumstances endanger you or yours." Really, it was all she could offer in the advent of such a thing - that she would not hate him if had to make a choice. Sometimes such choices had to be made.

Jack was silent for a moment, scanning her face for truth, for honesty, for steadfastness to word and honour. He found signs of each and broke into a broad smile. "Then to you the question falls: What next? I can continue the tour of the ship now, or we can return to the Stormseed so that you may make arrangements for your leave and I can make arrangements to refuel my vessel. The choice is yours." He paused for a moment, and then added, rather awkwardly. "I...am grateful to your curious spirit, Viira... And... And -glad- for your company. I sincerely hope that I - my ship, my universe, my world - can live up to your expectations."

She opened her mouth to reply then paused as he added the last, and smiled pleasantly catching his hand and giving it a squeeze as she shook it, "I've no doubt it will. I did not wake this morning expecting to find a spaceman in my waters, and yet here we are. Hopefully I prove to be worth the trouble." Winking she turned back towards the entrance, assuming that was where they were going and shook her head, wearing a wry smile, "It's good to know men don't listen regardless of universe. I said your library would be a grand start - unless there is more in this place you would show me? And then we can retire to Stormseed and you can be a guest on my ship, and eat with the crew. I hope you don't mind a raucous bunch."

Jack pursed his mouth a little smarted that she had thought him not to be listening. "Not clear perhaps, but never cotton-eared, madam!" He replied with feigned wounded pride. "If you had chosen the option of more of the tour now, the Library would have been the next stop. I have lived too long to allow such open statements to slide so easily, I assure you." He replied with mock dourness and head held high he stepped back towards the door and with the Key of Troves in hand opened them back onto the landing in the Brig. He stretched out his shoulders and looked around. "Well then... This way..." He led back towards the ladder and made his way up to the top tier of the Brig and stepped out on a landing that had the dim golden cast of the light from the living quarters reflected down into the cavernous spaces of the hold. This door was a finely crafted door of solid wood, and into its lock he pressed the Key of Troves. With a click, he turned the handle and led them through into a massive three story room well-lit with chandeliers and wall sconces on every level. A spiral golden-gilt staircase wound up and around the room connecting the three levels and giving the interior of the room the impression of a giant conch shell. Plush velvet furniture in deep emerald greens and mahogany sat about on thick, rich carpets, high tables for beverages, lamps and resting books were arranged helpfully around the room. A two-level trolley similar to that Jack had presented his tea on sat underneath the free-standing staircase with a few books on it that had yet to be put away. He stepped in and was intrigued to find a fire burning in the hearth. "Autumn here, then." He murmured aloud, but mostly to himself. "The Library of Thistlewaite Estate." He declared in a grand voice to allow the sound to carry.

She laughed, "I would save some of the tour for when we depart, yes? Besides, we have been gone some time and I do recall requests for dinner being made when we left. I assume, of course, that you do enjoy a meal or two every now and again?" Viira teased, amused, as she followed him out and into the great library. It was vast and grand, unlike the libraries she knew. The sea air was not kind to scrolls and skins... to have such a wealth of books and knowledge... his comment drew her attention to the hearth and she blinked. Shaking her head, she grinned, "Should I assume we are in another place entirely from the ship once again? For being so tidy and small, she hides much space." Without waiting for his approval, she stepped forward and to one of the book cases, running her hands over the spines as she regarded the foreign text. Then she frowned. A library was all well and good but it knowledge was beyond her if she couldn't read it. Embarrassed by her lack of foresight, she turned to Jack, "It seems I am ahead of myself. I cannot read these."

"Believe me," He spoke quietly, "There will be ample left to show. And yes, I eat - quite a lot, it might surprise you. I must confess, I am not accustomed to ribald crews - you may have noticed, the Ptarmigan is blessfully free of them. But, if you invite me, I will bashfully accept." He watched her look around the room and smiled a little in admiration at his collection. He had had the third level added on a hundred years prior when his collection had grown too vast to house them all. "Yes, we are in the home where I was raised as a boy. That is to say - we are in Sphera, my nation on Terrene." When she stepped forward to touch the books be made no rebuke. What would be the point, after all, if he were to show her a library that she was not allowed to look at - let alone read – the contents of? Alas, it seemed his permission was not sufficient for her to glean the knowledge he had offered. "Ah... A moment... I believe I may be able to assist..." He reached hands deeply into his pockets, clearly searching for something... And then, after a moment he impossibly pulled forth a middle-sized book bound in some sort of soft, fuzzy membrane. "Here we are... Er, choose a book, any for demonstrations purpose, it doesn't matter the subject." And so saying he turned towards the nearest table and delicately laid the book he'd produced on its surface.

"I'll try to keep them in line then, but no guarantees." She laughed, "They're a good group, though, you'd be hard pressed to find better." At his proclamation, Viira shook her head, "So much for many days of travels to get here, hn? Does that key link you everywhere and it will be as simple and opening a door onto one wonder after another?" She was curious, really, to know if they were going to be doing any actual travelling, as it seemed as though everything could be just as easily accomplished from his ship. With both delighted and disappointed her. While he rummaged, she set about looking for a window, to peer out at another world. He called for a book, however, before she had the chance to do so. "Hn? Oh. You know... I'd like to know what you keep in your pockets, one day. It seems as though they're endless." She arched a brow as she selected a book from the shelf at random and handed it over to him. The elegant lettering and plain adornments made her think of something statelier and less a flight of fancy. It made her wonder what Spheran poetry might be like, or what sorts of things such a people might write about. "What does that do...?" She had a guess, but again, the how of it eluded her entirely.

"The Key of Troves," Jack declared with feigned imperiousness "Is connected only to my Troves. It is how I access my many, many possessions. You accumulate a lot after a few centuries, honestly. While we are -here-, the Ptarmigan is not. It is back on your Stormseed, and in order to do any amount of traveling - whether that be through air or aether, we will need to make the journey from the ship. The Troves are an easy way to keep the larder stocked and my wealth close at hand. I cannot very well have the Key take me to new and exciting adventure if it hasn't already been set to answer the other side of the door, now can I?" He asked with the kindly tone of a father, and grinned to further show his amusement. Bantering with her curiosity was very much a game he was enjoying, and the fact that she kept pace with him thus far made it a swift-paced game at that. He felt quickened - enlivened by it - already. "In my pockets? A very great deal, I assure you." He replied with a little bit of a laugh. "This is Fnellian's Tome. -Not- a Mystic artifact, for a change, actually." He grinned at her and accepted the book she offered. He gave a quick glance to the spine and then placed the book on the table and opened the front cover, turned the end pages and flipped past the table of contents until he reached the first page - a book done in neatly-rowed printing press lettering. Then he opened Fnellian's Tome and revealed that the book contained only two pages, made from what looked an absorbent, spongy, thick paper. He laid Fnellian's Tome down on top of the volume Viira had chosen and motioned for her to step forward. "Place your hands on the cover of Fnellian's Tome, as if you held it whilst reading. Then tell me what words appear..." He murmured.

"Does that mean you have the obligatory closet full of things you either don't need, don't want but haven't thrown away, or have no idea what to do with?" She quipped, entertained, "Does the key have a limit to the number of doors it connects, then? What happens if the limit is hit?" She likened it to a key ring - they could many many keys but you had to remove a key to add a key once it, eventually, was full. "Are the pockets artifacts as well? Or are you simply that magical?" She chuckled as she stepped forward to take the book as instructed, rather perplexed by the strange tome. What kind of paper was that? Or skin... though she doubted it was the latter. Hefting the book, she waited for the page to show something. And, after a moment, it did. She blinked as the words seemed to write themselves across the page in her own language, and she swore in surprise. "I thought you hadn't been to my world before.... how could you, or it... this whatever it is, know my language?" Her gaze didn't leave the page, however, as the words solidified and became legible, "It says: 'The Collected Plays, Shorts, and Works of Avarin Postlewain. An anthology of comedies, romances, and tragedies. Section one, Comedies.' And then it lists a half dozen plays I presume." She arched a brow as the list of romances appeared and glanced at Jack, amused, "Even here, it seems bawdy tales are means for entertainment. Are his..." she peered at the title again, "Plays, Shorts, and Works any good?"

"Oh, likely, likely," He smiled. "But then, if they are things I don't need, I doubt they'd be connected to my Key. Imagine how long it would take me to find anything if it were all in a jumble together." he chuckled to himself. "As for the limit that the Key can hold... I'm sure there must be one - but I've not reached it yet. After all, I am not its first owner, as I mentioned before." He shrugged and stuck his hands into his pockets. "As for these - they are merely two more locations the Key is set to. Disappointing answer, isn't it?" He flexed a self-critical brow. He fell silent as she lifted the layered books and he thumbed his lip as he watched her stare at the page. Saw the expression of recognition before her words were even spoken. He smiled a little as she began to read out the correct words. "I have not been here before, and neither has Fnellian's Tome. The thing itself is crafted of a lichen that grows on the gaseous floating continents of Selook. Fnellian, master wizard or alchemist, or whatever the old coot was, somehow managed to fashion an object from the membranes of the lichen in such a way as to keep it alive. It thrives off the stimulus of knowledge. Verbal visual, intellectual - anything containing the thoughts of the mind as transported through touch and vibration. So his ingenious Tome take the knowledge from you of what communication it understands, and connects that with whatever information it is touching, and voila, forms the fridge between them in order to absorb the energy generated by you learning. A sort of self-symbiotic creature. It will be quite sated to gorge itself in your hands, if you decide to borrow some of these books for a read. You just need to manually turn the page of the book, and replace Fnellian's Tome atop the new page." He paused and pursed his mouth thoughtfully. "Postlewain? His Comedies aren't very comedic, he was too tart a man to understand humour well enough to create his own. His romances are good enough, if not a bit repetitive. 'Abide no Love' is quite enjoyable, for one. Tragedy is where he really shone. He had a way of setting up these characters and events in such a way as they could not help but collapse in a splintering of loyalties and love. I still believe 'Handsomely Won Death' and 'Upon the Road to Perdition' are still two of the best ever written."

"Oooh..." She murmured, fascinated. Curious, she poked the spongy page as if expecting it to make a sound or move. "Can I borrow this...?" It seemed every time she turned around, something else left her awestruck. A lichen-book that fed on thoughts and translated alien texts... Viira set the fiction aside and looked around, "Do you have anything on cultures, customs, or combat tactics of various races?" She asked, her intent obvious. Start with the need-to-know and work out from there. "And is it alright if I take a volume or two to Stormseed?" As if to test the tome, she selected a book from the opposite bookcase and set the key on top, grinning like a girl as the words sprawled across the page and spoke of etiquette in some kind of royal court. Putting that volume back, she held the tome to her breast and smiled at Jack, it was light-hearted smile that spoke volumes to how much potential she saw in this place. Here there were stories and worlds distilled into compact guides she could devour. There was no doubt this would be a favoured place of hers - there was no pressure to be captain, no pressure lead, and no judgment should act less intimidating then her role demanded. The freedom left her bright-eyed and in a ridiculously good mood. This shore leave, she was certain, would refresh her entirely. Jack's sharp wit and quick tongue made for playful, intelligent banter and with the treasures that seemed endless she couldn't help but look forward to this. Then the moment passed and she inhaled, settling herself. She felt silly for being so caught up in something as simple as a library. And mildly irresponsible.... rebellious even. She grinned with mischief, "I don't suppose, however, you might teach me the language?"

"You may." Jack acceded. "Just promise me that you will not leave it lying about and will absolutely let no one else use Fnellian's Tome. With it, you may borrow as many books as you choose to sign out in the ledger." He gestured a massive leather-bound volume on a secretaire near a door opposite the staircase that led - presumably - to the rest of the mansion. He watched her move about, testing other books, the light of excitement giving the sturdy captain a nearly girlish appearance. He smiled softly to himself, a benevolent feeling softening the edges of frost on his heart for the first time in many long decades. He mentally made of point of admitting that he had stopped cursing the Round Coin and where it had taken him. After a moment's silent contemplation he stepped forward again. "Ah I can recommend a few, of course..." He moved swiftly to the secretaire where the ledger lay and from its cabinet shelves took out several huge volumes, each as large as the ledger itself, and setting them down on the pull-out ledge of the secretaire, began flipping through and making notes with ink and quill on some loose paper. After several long minutes, he stood back from his work and turned to her holding out the drying sheet. "Here. The shelves are marked. Here is a list of books that might interest you." The list he handed her contained the following titles: Aspion, 'Histories' Cymbalene the Songbird, 'Sagas of Enteria' Dauphid the Lesser, 'Customs of Conduct in Her Majesty Sphera's Court' Eltok Nirid, 'Advancements in Automeran Technologies' Gambellien Liorte, 'The Art of Conversation' Hotovek Triod Hespen, 'Medicine, Alchemy and the Healthy Body' Meriven, 'The History of the Galaxy Lords' Opala The Faire, 'A Collection of Treaties' Rassa Vene, 'A Dictionary of the Mystic Arts' Raynes the Royal Alchemist, 'Applications of Alchemy: studies, recipes and proposals for the enlightened mind' The Brass Duke, 'Theories of Aether Travel' Zhenti Ghoast, 'Speakbox Wisdoms: the Teachings of the Great Leveller'

"Oh! Thank-you." She set the tome on the page and read the list that appeared, noting which ones stood out to her the most. In particular the ones about technology and histories. With tome and list in hand, she set about looking for a few of the books with a serious look on her face. When she found one, Aspion's Histories, she smiled and then found the Brass Duke's book as well. It took her several minutes to find the two volumes, linking Jack's sigils with her own language and then back to the bookcases. Bringing them back, she wrote them out in the ledger and regarded Jack, "These two for now. And I'll not leave the tome lying around. I presume to put them back I must ask you get to get back here?" She spoke, already absorbed in the opening pages of the histories. After a moment, she looked up, "We should get back. Dinner's likely ready by now." She padded towards the door, waiting patiently for him to let them back out, already at ease with the setting and oddity of the circumstance. "Thank you Jack. And I apologize in advance for harassing you for access to this room on a regular basis."

"Yes, you will need me to get in and out. That is no problem at all. I would relish the opportunity to check in with you on what you have read and your opinions of that you had learned." He smiled and noted the two she'd chosen. He paused for a moment, and then, hesitantly, "You know... The Brass Duke is alive and well. If you would like, when we return to Terrene - I could introduce you, if you would like to ask him about his work. He helped build part of the Good Ship Ptarmigan, you know..." He escorted her to the door through which they had entered between two tall book cases with a gentlemanly air and opened the door for them both. "Let us back to your ship for now, and the promise of dinner."

"Deal. It'll give me something more to say then 'what's that' or 'amazing' as well." She replied wryly, bemused. Pondering his offer a moment, she nodded, "Perhaps when I’ve read his work, and understand it. I'd rather grasp the concept before seeking out the author in this case. Research and all that." She smiled as she stepped through the door, books braced against her hip as a mother might hold a child, and nodded, "For now, dinner."

New...Friends? (Wayward Saga)

2011-04-25T19:47:00.000-07:00

Garret: *sits there, nervously waiting for someone to return, feeling useless right about now* Damnit! *tries to stand, and after a few tries, shuffles off towards the direction Taryn went, slowly. He's not sure where she went, but heading in the general direction of the light flash seemed smart* Taryn! *he whispers from now and then, calling out to her. Turning a corner he hears voices in the distance, but not the words themselves* Taryn? Is that you? Did you find them? *shuffles on, his head swimming a little but he's trying his best to focus and go on regardless*
Billy: *comes around the corner of the warehouse and sees a guy standing there, calling out a name. Before he can step back he stumbles and kicks some pebbles noisily.* Um, hi, my name is Billy, do you know where we are? And, um, do you have any food?
Garret: *stumbles when he hears Billy's voice. He spins to face the youth and then his world spins in return. Dropping to one knee, he tries to combat the wave of nausea unsuccessfully and vomits. After a few seconds of spitting and clearing the acid from his throat, he looks at Billy through watery eyes and clears his throat* Where did you come from?
Billy: *Seeing the man startle and then begin to vomit he run over slowly, arms flapping awkardly at his side.* Uh, I just woke up around the corner, but I don't know where I am now. *not getting too close to the vomit* Uh, are you ok?
Garret: *shakes his head* Join the crowd kid. *pulls himself to his feet once more* And no... I'm not okay. Have you seen anyone else around here? Anything strange? *wonders where the others are*
Billy: Sorry mister I don't know anything about this place. I only woke up a little while ago. I would have stayed where I was, but I got hungry and decided to try and find some food, you don't have any do you. *looks around to see if anybody else is coming, his skinniness is very evident in jeans and a t-shirt with close cropped brown hair on his head*
Garret: *pauses long enough to look over his shoulder at Billy* Sorry, the name's Garret. *starts going again* And yeah, you can follow, just stay back in case we run into anything... unpleasant. *wonders why this kid is soo preoccupied with food. Sure, Garret was hungry, but this kid kept going on and on about it*
Billy: Ok, thanks mister..I, uh, mean Garret. *falls in just behind Garret.* What do mean run into anything unpleasant? *starts looking around even more incase something might jump out at him.*
Garret: Just stick close kid. *keeps moving towards some voices he can hear a way ahead* I might be less than one hundred percent right now kid, but I'll keep you safe. And maybe find you food too. *keeps moving, carefully*
Billy: Ok, thanks. *Keeping as close, but without interfering with Garret he walks along wondering who is talking ahead of them and if they have anything to eat* Uh, what's wrong with you anyway.
Garret: *edges towards the voices, unsure of exactly where they are coming from* Billy ws it? I might have a concussion, that's all. *he tried to downplay the situation, since there was no sense in alarming the kid*
Billy: *Following along behind Garret* A concussion? Uh...how'd you manage that?....I mean considering I just woke up on the ground around the corner, and have no idea where I am, I'm a little curious as what's going on you know. *As he continues to follow behind Garret he can hear the voices up ahead and wonders what else is going to happen to him today*
Garret: I went head first through a plate glass skylight. Any other questions? *he was starting to get a bit surly. Partlty because of the concussion, partly due to the endless questions and partly because her was worried about the others* Sorry kid, I didn't mean to snap at you, I'm just concerned for my friends is all.
Billy: Uh....that's ok, I'd probably be snappy if I went through a window.
Garret: *turns a corner and pauses* A dead end? *looks around in confusion* I thought for sure the voices were coming from this way. *turns and tries to listen, catching that the voices have moved. He starts backtracking a little then pauses again* Hey kid? Do you hear any voices? Or am I losing it completely?
Billy: *Pausing when they turn a corner* Uh....I hear voices, so you aren't losing it. Should we head back the way we came ya think?
Garret: *pauses, listening* That's good. I wasn't sure whether my head was playing tricks on me as well as threatening to explode. *catches Taryn's voice calling his name, reorients himself and heads towards her* This way kid. I think they snuck past us somewhere. Sounds like they're back at the warehouse... where I was supposed to stay put. *frowns knowing Taryn's gonna yell at him*
Billy: Oh...ok. I'm right behind you then. *Keeping close to Garret he start moving back the way they came.*

------------MEANWHILE--------------

Ira: *blinks and then grins* Cooooooool. Uh, i knocked out the guard, but I'm not sure how long for... We'd better get out of here... Hey! Let's check this guard! he hasn't been rolled! *bends down and starts going through his pockets*
Taryn: *sneaks forward, starting to lose a sense of where the light was, now that she can't see it anymore, and turns on a whim, trying to find some sign of Ira and Lisette*
Lisette: *crouches and starts helping Ira rifle through the second guards pockets* Speak out if you find anything useful. *finds another set of keys and the standard pager thus far*
Ira: No wallet either...but lookee what I got! *pulls out a card pass with photo ID on it* Looks like Mr... *reads it* Barry Doul is a Class S member of Phaeton Development and Industries... *tosses it to Lisette* Mean anything to you?
Marcus: Is...Who's there?? *Marcus is cowering in the shadow of a storage container, his hands stuck firmly in his armpits.*
Lisette: *looks at the ID and shakes her head* Never heard of it. And it doesn't answer any questions, does it? *looks around* Maybe we shiould go back. I think if we stay here, we're just going to find more trouble. *stands* Should we just leave him here? *points at Mr Doul* Or bring him along to ask him some questions?
Ira: You want I should puppet him back to the others? Might be handy to have a guard about in case we run into any more personnel... *ponders this, looking down at Mr. Doul.*
Taryn: *stills, whipping about, and focussing to keep hidden against the pattern of the wall. Catches sight of Marcus and blinks. before she can stop herself, she asks* Who are you?
Marcus *panics at the apparently disembodied voice* Agh!! Where are you? What do you want with me?? WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME?? *A pale boy of maybe 17 or 18 Marcus is nigh incomprehensible, and has no thought for the noise he is making. As he stands suddenly, his hands come out from under his arms, covered in blood.*
Lisette: Do you think he'd answer our questions? Can you... I don't know... read his mind or anything while in there? *is creeped out, but not as badly as she is scared*
Ira: Uh, not really... *scratches his hair* more like... I can communicate with his nerves and joints and skin and stuff. *struck by a sudden thought* I'd be the most bad-ass doctor EVER!
Taryn: Woah...woah there... Calm down. I'm like you, lost here, and ....*watching the bloody hands worriedly, still not letting herself be seen in case this one's dangerous* And, I'm -different- too...
Marcus: *Wind seems to go out his sails, and he sinks back to the ground* I-I'm dangerous...you should stay back...I don't know how to make it stop...*as he sinks to the ground a stray beam of light catches his eyes and the iris shines strangely* Do you know how to make it stop?? *Struck by this idea, Marcus looks imploringly to where he thinks the voice issues from, revealing in the moonlight his iris and pupil are silver and mirrored.*
Lisette: *sighs* Well, I think the only way were gonna find anything out is if we question him, so do your thing Ira. *regrets it already* And we'll hope that he is forthcoming when questioned.
Ira: Ooookay, you gottit! *sinks back intot he unconscious guards body and brings him upright, wiggling him around to move him normally* "What do you think? Does this one make me look fat? I simply don't know -which- guard to wear!" *jokes, trying to lighten the mood, but has a rather demented sense of humour* "Okay, let's go back"
Taryn: I'm sorry... I don't know how to make it stop... I can't make mine go away either... *lets her face resolve back to normal brown hair and cream-coloured scales* I'm just looking for my friends... Have you seen a tall, gangly redhead and a shortish girl around here? *keeps the rest of herself in cover and doesn't approach* Do you know where 'here' is?
Marcus: *The boy starts when a face, though definately a pretty one, if somewhat...scaly... appears in the wall before him* Ah-! Uh...Hi there. I'm afraid I don't know anything. Well no, I know that I woke up here and then when I went outside someone yelled at me and- *he cuts of at the mention of the guard* and then I woke up here and I heard you. *he finishes somewhat lamely*
Lisette: That, is -NOT- funny Ira... stop it. *she visibly shudders* Look at what life has come to... *she mutters to herself as they head back towards the others* Just, don't hurt him. We need all the help we can get. *shudders again*
(Ira) Doul: "Aw, cummon... It was just a joke..." *waves Doul's hands dismissively and heads back towards the fence, getting ready to climb back over.* "Aw man, this guy is heavy. It's gonna be hard to scale the fence with this guy on. I'm going to look for a gate in the fence. You want to climb over or shall I escort you, m'lady?"
Taryn: Someone yelled at you...? *worried that they're not alone here* Oh, that's no good. I hope they're okay... *wonders if she should leave this kid here or if she should bring him with* Uh, look, I've got to find my friends...so... uh... *starts moving past him towards the area where the light went off, watching him to see what he'll do*
Marcus: Where are you going? C-could I come with you? *contact with another human being (or close enough) seems to be helping the young man's composure, and he straightens his shoulders a bit, stand up straights, though still keeping to the shadows.* I'd like to come with you, if its not too much trouble...I want to find out what's going on. *He glances back at the corner where he'd been hiding with a self deprecating smile* I can't really do that hiding here can I?
Lisette: *looks at the fence* I'm climbing over. If you find a gate, great, but I'm gonna try and get back to tell Taryn and Garret what we found. And warn them when they see a guard coming towards them. *starts up the fence, over the top and down before dropping to her feet again* Just hurry up Ira. Please.
(Ira) Doul: "Hey, I'm moving this lug as fast as he'll go... So just go on ahead, I'll catch up." *glances at Doul's watch* "You're, like already two minutes late to get back to them. Don't worry about me." *waves her onward and hoofs the other way looking for a doorway*
Taryn: *takes a breath and lets the rest of herself come into view, fully hard-scaled and tinged brown and red from the surrounding colours* Yeah, you can come. i know how it is, wanting answers and not having any. That's what my friends and I were trying to find out ourselves... No point in staying hidden if you're following tho'... Come on, I think they were this way... *heads towards the fence*
Marcus: Thanks I- *Marcus cuts short when he processes the fact that the girl before isn't wearing anything, and despite a clear struggle not to, his ears and cheeks burn red.* Can I get you a - I have a coat here if you like. *He shrugs out of a black wool peacoat while determinatedly averting his eyes. When he steps out of the shadow with the coat, he is revealed to be about 5'9" standing tall, with unruly dark hair, worn in a careless sweep back from his high forhead. Now that he's not cowering in terror he looks a bit older, maybe closer to 19 or 20* Here. Please.
Lisette: *goes on ahead, trying to retrace their steps back to the others. After a moment or two, she turns the corner to find a scaly Taryn and a young man she's never seen before* Taryn? *pauses, unsure of what was happening and why Taryn is naked again*
(Ira) Doul: *find a gate and seeing that it's padlocked, pulls doul's keys out of his pocket and starts trying to find a key that works. after 3 or 4 he finds one and unlocking the gate, heads out, locking it behind himself for safe measure* "Bingo... Now then..." *picks his direction and starts heading back, trying to find the way back to the warehouse, hoping to catch up with Lisette en route*
Taryn: Er... thank you... *takes the boy's coat gratefully before being startled by Lisette's sudden appearance* Lisette! i'm so glad you're alright... I saw the flash and thought the worst... *trails off, noticing for the first time that Ira's no where to be seen* Where's Ira? What happened?
Marcus: *Marcus glances back towards the two girls, now that the scaly one was safely covered; she was too pretty by half...he kicked himself internally for being so awkward. Time to make a better impression* Uh, Hi there. I'm Marcus, by the way. We probably shouldn't hang around in the open. There are guards...uh...around. *surreptitiously, Marcus slides his bloodstained hands behind his back* My... outburst, won't have helped matters in that regard...*Marcus flushes again, remembering the embarrassing panic that had taken hold of him*
Lisette: *the shorter of the two women, cute in that slightly doughy, girl-next-door kind of way, looks at Marcus with a critical eye* Marcus huh? You know about the guards? *looks at Marcus' hands behind his back* You wouldn't know about one we found with leasions on his throat, would you?
(Ira) Doul: *comes up behind them* "Oh, hey, there you are..." *waves Douls are at them and smiles his borrowed mouth genially, twitching for a moment as he prevents the swimming mind from regaining consciousness*
Taryn: Lesions on its throat? Like, just lying there? *catches sight of Doul and jumps back, nearly bumping into marcus* Jesus! lisette! there's one right behind you! *reflexively goes black like the coat she's wearing from head to foot*
Marcus: Lesions, like...cuts? On his throat? Is he...*Marcus notices the guard at almost the same time as the camo-girl, and leaps forward, bare millimetres from running into her, as he springs at the guard, shouting* Run! You two, go find your friends, I'll handle this! *Something instinctive grabs hold of Marcus, the instict to protect, to defend...and also to attack. He lands in a half-crouch between the two girls and the Guard, streams of silver begining to run down his arms and hands, and his pupils entirely subsumed, his eyes, mirrors.*
Lisette: *immediately gets between the guard and the others, even in front of the new guy* Whoa! It's Ira! It's okay, he's... on our side. *turns to face Ira in the guards body* Be careful, we have a newcomer. Try not to freak him out... he seems to be one of us. *looks back over her shoulder at the silvery man*
(Ira) Doul: "Jeez! I thought you said you were going to warn them in advance..." *waves again at Marcus, a little wary* "Hi, I am not Mr. Doul, but actually Ira. Mr. Doul," *gestures to the guard's body with one borrowed hand* "Is unconscious at the moment. Where's Garret?* *looks around*
Taryn: Ira? *squints at Doul* There's got to be a way of figureing out when it's you or not. This skin-thin rattles my nerves something fierce. *sighs and runs a scaled hand through her hair* Garret wasn't well-enough to come with. I left him at the warehouse, which, we should all get back to before he starts to worry. *starts moving back that way* Did you guys manage to find anything?
Marcus: *Marcus takes a deep breath, calming his instictive rush, and relaxing his stance. In doing so, he notices that the streams of silver running down his arms had collesced into five shing blades extending from his fingertips. Each is almost six inches long. It looks like he is wearing two skeletal, clawed gauntlets. He stares at his hand for a moment, completely flumoxed. His voice weak, he murmers* ...What's happening to me?
Lisette: I didn't have time to mention that "Oh, by the way, Ira is wearing a guard like a suit" yet. *sighs* I was a little distracted by the new guy okay? *rolls her eyes* But yeah, where's Garret? *looks to Taryn" Did something happen to him? *she goes white*
Doul (Ira): Well, at least this one isn't dead. I gotta tell you, the dead ones feel -gross-. And this guy might have some answers for us when he regains consciousness... so let's get 'im to a place with less cameras and find Garret, yeah?
Taryn: *goes ash pale momentarily* Ira, that's disgusting. What were you doing in a dead guard anyway? Wait-- I don't wanna know. Let's just get back before something else happens, okay?
Marcus: *As the conversation between the others progresses, Marcus tries to simply fade into the background and not think to hard about the dead guard situation. Instead, he looks down and examines the silvery stuff on his arms. The claws are no longer the shining silver they were at first, already covered in a slightly ruddy-black tarnish. They looked like...iron or possibly some alloy of it.*
Lisette: *still looking at Taryn, curious as to where Garret actually is right now* Ira has a point. I'm not sure what would happen if that guard were to awake with Ira in him, but I doubt he'd be very forthcoming with information. So, can we please get to someplace a little less... exposed?
Doul (Ira): Yeah, yeah, I get it, I'm the creep... *waves Doul's arms about* But this guy's ready to pop okay, so let's go. *starts heading back the way to the warehouse, shaking Doul's head* Geeze, jus' tryin' ta help here... *grumbles*
Taryn: Uh, right... Yeah, I left Garret back at the warehouse. Hopefully he stayed put. He's still pretty wobbly, so I hope he hasn't done anything stupid... *follows back along the passageway, keeping an eye out for trouble*
Marcus: *Noticing Taryn leaving, he snaps out of his reverie and moves to keep up with her. Now would not be the best time to be left with strangers, and the cute girl wearing his coat is at least somewhat less strange. Except for the whole scales thing of course.* Uh hold on! *he calls softly to her as he nears.*
Lisette: *starts following behing Doul/Ira* You're doing well Ira. *she whispers to him* You're handling all of this better than any of us frankly. Thank you. *she sighs, wishing she was more useful* Okay... lets find Garret and then maybe we can find out where the nearest hospital is.
Doul (Ira): *comes around the corner to the space where the warehouse is* "Aah, my TARDIS! just where I left her... Hey Garret? You doing okay, man?"
Taryn: *just behind Ira, watching the bulky security guard body and trying to see the man beneath it with difficulty, mutters* Seriously, that is sooo harrowing... *then, rounding the corner* Garret?
Lisette: *is following right behind Marcus, who seems to want to stay closest to Taryn, but as such, can't see a damned thing* You and your TARDIS... I think you have an unhealthy obsession with whatever the heck it is. *rests against the wall, still trying to keep her mind off the bigger situation or else she'll break down*
Doul (Ira): "Aw... what the hell..." *wanders over to the TARDIS, flips up the tarp a little and checks that Garret hasn't igured out a way into it, steps back and shrugs, a little disappointedly* "Hey, dollface, when all this is over, I'm sitting you down and we are watching some Who together, because if you only knew the full implications of a TARDIS...you'd be as excited as I am right now." *tries to make Doul's face into his tell-tale manic grin and fails, achieving instead a dirty-uncle face* "Aw hell, this guy can't even smile right..." *grumbles and turns aound in the open space.* "So, where is he?"
Taryn: TARDIS? What, that thing? I thought it was supposed to look like an olf Police Box, or something... More -importantly- where'd he go? The man is clearly concussed, for crying out loud... *cups her hands to her mouth* GARRET?
Lisette: We lost Garret!? What the... *slumps against the wall, her chest rising and falling as her last bit of composure dries up and she starts sobbing* Why is this happening to us? *sob* Why? Someone answer me!?
Doul (Ira): *turns around as Lisette starts crying* "Oh, hey now... woah, woah... If ya didn't like being called Dollface that much, all you had to do was say so..." *melts out of Doul's body, and the guard falls semi-conscious to the ground, and Ira, stretching, steps out of him and over to her, hands outstretched, but keeping his distance* Hey... Lisette...you okay?
Taryn: *glances over to Lisette and sighs* We're all falling to pieces and we still don't know where we are or what's going on. Just great. God DAMN it, Garret, why didn't you just stay put? *grumbles to herself and crosses her arms over her chest*
Lisette: *still sobbing, she turns away from Ira* Am I okay? AM I OKAY!? Are any of us okay Ira? *sob* Like Taryn said. We still don't know anything. We've learned nothing! And now... now Garret is missing too. *her body spasms with her crying as it grows stronger*
Garret: *turns a corner and picks up speed, they sound closer now* Still with me kid? *picks up speed, turning one more corner and catching sight of the others, he relaxes a bit and shuffles forward into view* Geez... I'm gone for just a few moments and everything goes to hell? What's all this about?

Primal Crusade #4 - The Demon Attack

2011-04-13T19:10:00.000-07:00

"So, what's the verdict?" Asia asked when Topher eventually returned.
Ender didn't say anything as Topher returned to the group, but stood up off the roller-bed and shrugged his shoulders back. Time to start warming up, just in case.

Mickey pushed forward from the work table he'd been leaning against and stepped forward, almost like a soldier awaiting commands.
Topher came back to them, a conflicted look on his face. He paused, cleared his throat and slipped the phone away. "Uh, alright. Here's the scoop. There are two out there: A Seeker and a weaker Harpy that seems to be bound to the other. The Harpy is sitting on the rooftop of the building across the way, the Seeker on the power lines on the street." He paused here, took a breath, and then continued a little reluctantly. "She said that air and darkness are the magical elements we're dealing with and that we'll need to combat them on a front of strength. She said, no matter what, stay in the light as much as possible and stay on solid ground. She's going to send her Terras, Taves, to help us. He should be waiting outside in about 8 minutes or so." He glanced at his watch, then pointedly at Ender. "What's the plan?"
Asia looked to Ender as well. "We got our intel, and reinforcements right? Now, any idea how to take out two Demons with just the four of us plus whatever Meredith is sending?" She had no idea what it was Meredith was sending, but hoped it was good. She didn't like the fact that there was not just one Demon, but two out there gunning for their asses. She stood up and started stretching out her muscles, testing her ribs and her capacity for breathing. Breathing was the key to effective fighting and if she couldn't take a deep breath, she'd have to make do with smaller ones. Here's where Dorian's training would come in handy. Provided she remembered enough of it.
Well, I figure if we send out one of us as bait, the good ol' scent of a Were will draw their attention, if we get one or both of you," Here he indicated to Topher and Asia, "to exit out another way, we can bring Mickey in from a blind spot, as they won't be able to pick up on him quite so easily - not until he's too close for it to really matter... Are you hearing this?" Ender asked, trailing off as the sound of a pair of engines cut louder above the standard nighttime traffic and pulled up outside the warehouse. One cut out, and then the other, lights dimming as the vehicles were turned off. Ender had a stunned look on his face. Was this reinforcements for the Demons’ side or theirs?
Topher looked up, arms unfolding immediately. There was a momentary grin on his face. "Seth..." He began by way of explanation, then his face fell and he looked at Ender, alarmed. "There's your decoy - Seth's walking right into something...and if the Demons don't make their move on him, they're going to think we're up to something and we've lost our chance. Plan? Quickly?"
Asia was just as distracted by the deep rumble of engines as well. "Seth!?" she had been surprised when he wasn't here earlier, but now here he came at pretty much the perfect time. But there were two distinct engine sounds. If it was indeed Seth, who was with him? She fought the urge to check and turned to Ender. "If that is Seth, who's with him? We need to warn them before the Demons jump them!"
Morgan had a heck of a time following Seth. That bike handled better than he initially gave it credit. Not to mention it cornered like it was on rails. His truck just didn't stack up to it, but somehow (likely Seth taking pity on him) he managed to follow it to Mickey's. He parked beside Seth and turned the tunes and the engine off. Pulling himself from the truck he frowned at Seth. "Thanks for showing me the way. You almost lost me a few times. That is one heck of a ride you have."

Seth grinned up at him, prying the goggles from his eyes, the helmet straps never done up in the first place. "Yeah, my Gunner Baby, she never lets me down." He paused, still smiling, "Who knows, I could outfit you with one if you could pry yourself from that lug..." He nodded over Morgan's shoulder and his face suddenly fell.

"Shit." There was a pair of eyes, beady and glowing, staring at him from the dark recesses of the building across the way. Already the stench was permeating his nostrils, that hackles-raising smell of a Demon. He scrambled up from the bike and put his back up against the wall as fast as he could. "Morgan, get your ass away from the truck!" He growled under his breath, eyes riveted on the murky shape.

If only it would come out into the light, he could get a better look at it, figure out what it was... He recognized this smell from somewhere...but couldn't quite pick it out. Please don't be a Dealer...please don't be a Dealer... He prayed silently to himself. Let it be something big n' stupid I can smash...
The Harpy shifted forwards, curious by this sudden movement. He'd been getting restless, bored and hungry just sitting here. But Vaius had said stay put until the Weres came out of the building.

Well, he cocked his shaggy head to one side; these weren't coming out of the building, per say... SNIFF...

But they were definitely Weres. Vaius had said to attack the Weres... He licked his black lips with an equally black tongue and hunched his wings. Yes, he was definitely hungry.

And then the little one turned, looked right at him. Angry, fiery little eyes, silly helmet on, silly goggles, like he would fly. He smiled; he couldn't fly, not like Rekjald could... He stretched his mouth open, nice and wide, tasting the air, and clawed his way to the edge of the rooftop, wings outstretched, ready to swoop. He was nearly laughing now, oh, it would be fun, it would be...delicious...

Meanwhile, Vaius perched, dainty and shimmering in the glow of the streetlamp, masked to Human eyes, watching the business entrance with keen eyes - the eye on her right hand aimed towards Rekjald at his post, her central eye aimed up at the sky to keep watch above, her left-hand eye aimed down the street.

Two vehicles - poorly matched, from the looks of things - swung up the street and drew to a stop in the parking lot. "What in the Hells..." She murmured, staring hard at the vehicles, picking out the forms of the Weres from the layers of machinery, sensing the engines stop before the sound died down. Had the ones inside somehow summoned help without her knowing it? Did one of them have Gaea's Blood that could do that? That would be a bad thing... But no, only two had come. And they seemed casual enough... Perhaps Rekjald had not been--

"Damn it!" She hissed, watching the Coyote hunch back towards the building. Rekjald, that imbecile! Oh, at times she hated Harpies...

She swiftly lifted herself off the telephone pole, her muscle bands flaring as she soared gracefully over to the roof of the warehouse and ran silently along its edge to get closer to the inevitable fight about to start. This was not how it was meant to be done.
It didn't take Seth's reaction to tell Morgan something bad was here. Not just here, but behind him as well. He could smell the Demon and immediately his heart sank. So much for a casual meet of Seth's friends and crew. Now some heavy stuff was going to go down. He was suddenly very happy he brought his little hammer. He pulled the sledge from the truck and swung around, backing up until he was side by side with Seth. His eyes quickly scanned around and it didn't take much to spot the pair of eyes staring back. His grip tightened on the sledge as he prepared himself to crush whatever that thing was.

"This is not what I had in mind, Seth..." he murmured to his sudden partner. He could see the thing ahead of them move and he knew it was coming. He didn't know what it was yet, but he knew it wasn't friendly. "No second date for you if we die here."
"I can't take a chance in dying, I might end up down where that's from!" Seth shot back, the mirth gone from his voice, replaced by a wire-sharp hardness. He didn’t have any of his weapons with him, which meant he had only one thing on him with which to do any damage...

But before that, he'd be taking it old school, and see if he came out from this in once piece. He dropped his leather gloves and let the claws extend from his fingertips, his muzzle elongating, his helmet and goggled popping off the back of his head as he shifted. He didn't bother for something subtle -- there wasn't anything around that mattered seeing, right now. He rose up into his Anthro form, standing a good 6 inches taller, but still wiry and long, muzzle full of sharp, gleaming teeth. He pulled his lips back in a snarl and let out a yip-yip of warning at this coward lurking in the shadows. He hunched down and started side stepping, flanking the thing if he could, instincts primed.
Morgan had realized the time for joking around was passed, but he hadn't been able to resist the little quip. It was out of his system now. He kept his eyes on the thing in the shadows. He heard, more than saw, Seth shift. He heard the popping of bones, the shifting of muscle, the sharp teeth pushed through the gums and he smelled the coyote take shape next to him. He was half tempted to follow Seth's lead and go Anthro as well, but the hefty hammer in his mitts was begging to be used and since his hands were more hoof-like in Anthro form, he had to compromise a little. His tendons popped and reset as thick fur pushed its way through his flesh, his muscles all through his arms growing denser, stronger. His fingers started to fuse together, but he stopped them before they hardened. His wide forehead grew wider and a pair of thick horns pushed forth. His face lengthened, but remained marginally human. His whole body grew in size and mass, giving him a slight hunch but great strength. He Channelled the Bison and raised the twenty pound sledge to the Demon. He grunted at it, taunting the abomination to come get some.
Rekjald saw them shift and felt his mouth salivate. Yummy, yummy Weres, a nice little appetizer, and then a full course... Well, there was enough, he could be generous... Vaius could have some when he was done with the main part of the carcasses...

Then he launched himself off the edge of the roof, feather and flesh wings snapping and cracking in that distinct Harpy sound as he swooped down, long talons outstretched to them. He was aiming for the big one first, it seemed to have something heaving in its clumsy hands. Rekjald didn't like the looks of it, best to just claw out the eyes first, and then the aim wouldn't be so good... Yessss....

He screeched, a ear-shattering sound, like a rodent being crushed and a pterodactyl mating all rolled into one. Mouth gaping, tongue lolling out, he slashed at the Bison's face, and flapped himself upwards, keeping airborne, keeping above them, rising into the night.

Vaius watched from behind them, sitting on the edge of the roof, watching Seth with one hand, Morgan with the other, her third eye on Rekjald, and main unfocussed, picking up on the peripheral and the motion that much better. The light was skewed here. Shadows cast from the street lamp clashing with the bulbs set up on the underside of the roof, near the door, inside the shuttered windows.

She cursed silently. Stupid Harpy. He was making too much noise, surely the ones they were supposed to be targeting would hear, there was only a wall between them after all. She thought through explanations. After all, the boss wasn't going to like this at all. A huge setback waiting to happen... Still, if she stayed in the shadows...let Rekjald take a beating from a bunch of Weres, maybe, just maybe the bird-brain would learn his banished lesson. To the Circles with him! She hunkered down to watch, all five eyes primed, muscle flares flexing and settling by turns...
Morgan was watching that thing come, and he knew it would come at him first. After all, he was bigger and armed which made him the best target to deal with first. He was used to being targeted first however. As the Harpy came for him, he ducked and weaved, using the haft of the sledge to defend the sharp talons lashing at his face. Not a one found flesh. As it started to lift from range, he lashed out with the heavy hammer, using the head as a ram instead of making a huge clumsy swing as most would expect. If it connected with anything, it was a glancing blow at best. He reset his defense doing his best to stay in the lighted areas and keep an eye on that thing.

"The damned thing had to fly, didn't it?" he cursed more to himself than to Seth. "I hate f&@#^ flyers!"
Asia had leapt from where she was sitting and ran towards the door in an attempt to warn Seth and whoever was with him, but by the sounds of things, she was too late. She stopped short of the door, a look of distress and concern on her face. Turning over her shoulder, she looked at Topher, Mickey and finally Ender. The set of her jaw told them all she wanted to get out there and fight, but she was looking for back-up. Then her lip curled with a slight smile.

"This is exactly the distraction we needed. Right?" She spoke to Ender. "How much longer until What’s-Her-Face's magical minion gets here? ‘Cuz if we can flank whatever is out there now..."
Topher glanced at his watch, then looked up. "Two minutes before the Dryad's here." he said, mouth tight. He gave a nervous glance at Mickey, then at Asia. He really wasn't wanting to put his latest bout of training into practice so soon, he still hadn't managed to really control the strength his Anthro form had, and he didn't want to accidentally hurt his own if things got tangled - and by the sound of it, the parking lot was going to get small pretty fast with five Weres, a human and two demons flinging themselves at each other. Still, Seth was out there, and with another, likely a friendly party by the gait of the motor's engines... He had to do what he could.

Topher stripped off his watch, quickly unlaced his boots, stripped his belt and took his blackberry out of his pocket. "Two minutes is enough. We can hold out 'til then."
Ender started prepping the moment Asia moved for the door. He took off his shoes and socks, his chains and watch, but left his earrings in, finally stripped off the tight T-shirt he was wearing and let the Channelled hands he'd already had out spread up his arms further, loosening his pants for his tail to sprout out over top and put his night eyes back on. With a roll of his shoulders he took a step towards the door. "New plan, we go out, try to keep it contained. Mickey, go out a back entrance with Asia, Asia, you keep low. You're our smallest, I need you to be our stealth. If you can catch either of the Demons by surprise, do it. When the Dryad shows, give the fight all you got, and lets try to end this as quickly as possible." He paused, letting his muzzle come out a little, the black band striping his eyes. "Don't so anything stupid." He added, then motioned for Topher to join him at the door.
Asia looked at Topher and Ender as they stripped off certain items and put them aside. It seemed reasonable to do so. Heck, she was going broke replacing her watch strap, shoes and a few other things she usually wore. With a shrug she kicked off her shoes and dropped her jacket to the chair. She pulled all of her jewellery that might inhibit her off and put it in the pockets of the coat, withdrawing her batons. Then she contorted her face and shrugged. "Well, since we're ditching things that might inhibit movement or get damaged..." She reached up her shirt and fiddled a bit, pulling her hands out and dropping her bra onto the chair too. She chuckled slightly if anyone looked at her oddly, but she knew she was small busted enough that it wasn't necessary anyways.

"So, Mickey and I go out the back when you two join the fray. Stay stealthy and kick as much ass as possible? Do I have that correct?" She looked at Mickey and nodded, stretching her sore ribs.
Topher turned back to Asia, a serious and earnest expression on his face. "If I may add one more stipulation...Don't die." He stripped off his t-shirt and shook out his hair, a little mussed from the undressing and tied the arms of his coveralls around his waist as he'd often seen Seth do in moments like this.

"I'm ready when you are, Ender."

Mickey had listened carefully, first to the motors, then to the plan, then to the shrieks coming from outside, then to the new plan. "You got it." was all he said. He slipped the licorice stick into a cigarette case in his pocket, and then turned to Asia. "Lil' Lady, if you'll follow me, I'll show you our stage entrance." He gave a loose salute to Ender. "See you in the fray, m'man. Fight well, everyone."
Ender didn't say anything as Topher added on his proviso. He'd hunted more demons than any one else here, and that meant he knew Topher's request was not one that could be promised. Still, no point in going into a fight with dour morale...

"Let's go, people. They need us out there." He returned Mickey's salute, gave a nod and a brotherly grin to Asia and motioned for Topher to stick with him. Then, with a deep breath and a flexing of his claws he kicked the door open, letting out a good ol' human roar. Sure, not as impressive as a lion or anything, but better than a pissed off Raccoon's chitter.
"I'll see what I can do about that, Topher. Both of you, take care of yourselves and let's kick some Demon ass!" She tried to make it sound like she wasn't scared. Like she was comfortable going in to this fight in her less than normal condition. But the truth of the matter was that she was scared, sore and knew this could possibly be the last fight she ever had. She had no idea what was out there waiting for them, or how strong they were. The fight with the Reeler had been bad enough, but now a fight with two more demons that same night? This was a problem.

"Okay Mickey, lead on." As they headed for their escape point, the short fur had already started to appear along her bare skin. Her body elongated in the torso as the ferret musculature took over. Her muzzle formed and she knew now that speech was going to be next to impossible, but the time for talk was over anyways. She clicked the short claws at her finger tips and then drew the batons. Using them in her Anthro form was still possible, since she retained much of her manual dexterity. She'd even trained with them in this form, learning what was and wasn't possible. With the boost to strength and speed associated with her Anthro form, combined with her Kali skills and batons, she could be quite lethal, injured already or not. After all, injured animals often fight harder and more ferociously.

She nodded to Mickey when she was ready.
Mickey could hear the sounds of Asia shifting behind him as he led her through the recesses of the warehouse, past a few cars in the process of being mended, through a store room of spare and ordered parts and tools, then into a side closet. There were a few buckets, grease cutter, WD-40, a mop, cleaners and detergents, a bad sink and a shitty, bare light bulb. He stepped in and punched a panel up in the ceiling.

He turned grinning, "Ready to be a little assault guy, climbing through the vents?" He put out his hands to her, to brace her arms and lift her up into the shaft. It was the first time he'd seen her shift, and was a little surprised by how her body had transformed. Ferret-girl, okay. "I'll boost you up, then you'll need to go forward about 12 feet, there's a side vent there, so just wait for me to pass you and I can lead the way out, alright?"
Asia nodded her mostly ferret-featured head at Mickey, indicating she understood. Now it made more sense when Ender pointed out that she was the smallest of the Weres here. She doubted Topher could wriggle through the ducts even though he was slender. Ender likely wouldn't have been able to either. But her Anthro form would have absolutely no problems. She saw Mickey get ready to boost her up and cocked her head to the side with something resembling a smile, then crouched and jumped up into the vent on her own. Her increased strength and agility in this form was more than enough to handle the leap. Once in the vent, she kept repeating Mickey's directions in her mind over and over again, trying to keep from being distracted. After what she guessed was the twelve feet, especially since the side vent was there, she waited for Mickey.

The Harpy in mid-air, Seth sprang up to meet him there. Wiry, lithe as a coyote was, Seth didn't seem to coil up for the leap; he just shot into motion and bodily collided with the Demon. Rekjald let out a screech as the Were came flying at him and, trying to pull up too late, became an entangled ball of limbs as the two veered off towards a wall, the Harpy's flight pattern disrupted.
From the main doors of the garage, the door burst open and an already half-shifted Bear and Raccoon burst out into the night. Ender's eyes reflected the streetlights, glowing like a hell-cat's. Both men had claws out and teeth bared as they caught a glimpse of the tangle of Harpy and Coyote. Ender swiveled his glance around to try and see where another assailant might be hiding. Topher charged forward, a hulking mass of muscle, fur and weighty paws. He swung out an arm and arced it skyward, claws extended, trying to rake at the flapping wings of the Harpy.
Morgan didn't even pause to contemplate the two Weres that suddenly emerged from the garage, furry and angry. When fighting a Demon, the manimal's were almost always on your side. Seth had sprung onto the Harpy, which meant Morgan couldn't risk swinging his hammer without possibly hitting Seth as well. So instead he choked his grip up on it, his two fused fingers and thumb gripping just below the weighty head of it. He chased after the Demon that Seth was entangled with and when the opportunity arose, punched out with the hammer head to whatever vital area opened up.

In the vents the Anthro Ferret form of Asia paused at the point Mickey had told her about. He had said to wait here for him to lead the rest of the way to the outside, but she could smell the outside air. It took some self control on her part, something she did not always have an abundance of, to wait for the garage owner to catch up. When he came within sight, she motioned for him to lead on. Her communication skills in this form lacking, she was relying on simple gestures to convey her intent.
Mickey kept up a good pace, being an ex-military man, but he was not nearly as fast or agile as the Ferret and he caught up to her grinning and shaking his head at himself. "Alright, let's go, lass." he indicated the way and taking the lead, readied his pocket screwdriver in one hand as he crawled forward. When he reached the outer cover, he swiftly began unscrewing the bolts that held it in place, and then flipped the vent-grate out and down on a set of new hinges he'd installed only a few months before. The view from the aperture was onto the back parking-lot, where a couple of vehicles were parked, and where a fence and low wall of concrete blocked off the area.

Seth had his long-canines buried in a section of flesh that at these close quarters he couldn't identify, other than to say it tasted terrible and dirty. He was growling low in his throat, his vision spinning and unable to focus as the world keened madly, the feeling of being on an amusement park ride mixed with the very real terror of fighting a Demon. Below, Topher managed to hack into one of the Harpy's wings and the beast went spinning madly through the air, one bleeding wing flapping erratically to try to keep steady, which really only pitched the Harpy towards where Morgan hulked ready in wait with a massive hammer in both fists. Meanwhile, Ender took to the wall, skittering up over the surface and crawling up to the lights, the wires, running at times on seemingly nothing as he followed the scent of another Demon, faint and slick like oil, but there, under the normal city smells.
As the erratic flight of the Harpy brought it towards him. Morgan focused his big, brown bison-like eyes and waited for an opening. He sidestepped at the last moment and drove the head of the hammer into what looked like it might be a hip of the Harpy. He threw the majority of his weight and strength into the blow and felt it connect. The sound that issued forth was sickening, though it was hard to hear over the low throaty growls emanating from Seth as he fought with every fiber of his being.

Distant Star - Log 04 - To the Trove!

2011-04-07T17:33:00.000-07:00

Distant Star - Log 04 - To the Trove!

Jack grinned back, the expression lighting up his nearly sallow features and making him look suddenly younger and fresher in a sense. Using this expression he looked not far from the man painted in the brass ovals on the wall behind them. "By all means, it takes no energy to use, feel free to look at stars or moons, or distant planets - whatever you wish." He paused, and knelt beside her again. "This wheel brings the entire thing to pivot left or right, these twelve handles are manual adjustments for each section of the 'scope, this wheel controls up and down, and this level extends and retracts it." He shifted his lean hand to rest on the eyepiece where a series of delicate brass cogs could be seen connecting the eyeglass to the body of the telescope. "These bring the entire thing into focus." Jack said smiling. "It's really just a matter of fiddling with it to focus on your target. In practice, you get the instinctual handle on what's needed to adjust it." Jack stood up and pivoted in a lazy arc, arms swinging out before finding his pockets and he slunk to the far side of the deck, fiddling with the gramophone for a brief moment before suddenly, a gypsy-sounding music erupted from seemingly everywhere. Not overly loud, but the notes and beats were carried by the glass, the arch of the ceiling, the reverberation of the brass tubing running between the panes. He stood, slumped into himself, thin, bow-legged, looking frail under that vaulted ceiling and let the sound wash over him. The music was that of Jack's mother's homeland, a ribald, lively tune featuring quick strings, throaty brass, resounding drums, and a good deal of bells and cymbals and percussion. He stood still, eyes raised skyward in silence as the music swirled, demanding dance, demanding celebration, and drawing nothing at all from Jack.

Viira nodded at those instructions and bent to the task, worrying at the controls until she finally found the fuller moon. She'd been about to fiddle the focus when the music rang out and drew her attention away. It was full of life and excitement and it made her smile as she looked up, casting her gaze about for the source of the music. Seeing no instruments and Jack hunched as he was, she frowned, "How is that music playing... its beautiful, but I see no musicians." Rising, leaving the scope tuned to the moon, she padded towards Jack, "A perfect tune for a ballroom, really." She bounced a few steps as she neared, slowing when the music had no effect on him. Pursing her lips, she paused where she was and wondered if she might not be imposing on private thoughts.

Jack's grey eyes drifted until they landed on her face, though the rest of him did not move. "It's a recording, etched vinyl... This was the Enterian Court Orchestra... They were world-renowned... All dead now. But they did make such fine music. I used to dance at court to their melodies; in the days when I was welcome at court." Jack's smile was gone, and the eyes were stormy and dark, but he did not look unhappy - merely numb, dull. He paused, silent, the gaze drifting back to the sky beyond the windows, and in a murmur of sound he asked, "How is your moon? Still sailing the skies?"

She nodded at that, and then reached out to brush a hand over his shoulder in a gesture of respect. Whatever his past was, it weighed heavily on him. "I should hope so; otherwise we would have to go find it, yes?" Viira flashed a smile as she turned back to the telescope and sat down once more, pressing her eye to the viewer as she spoke, "If it helps, you can share your stories with me. Their burden is heavy enough to see in your eyes and while I might not be able to soothe them, at least I might offer a companionable ear." She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye then returned to viewing the moon with its craters and strange forms. Swirls of what seemed like clouds played across the surface, kicking up dust that tinged its meager atmosphere teal. "So that's why it's that colour..." she mused aloud, fascinated.

Jack's mouth twisted into a rueful smile and a hand instinctually went to his solar plexus. "Ah, but this is mine to bear..." He roused himself and leaving the music playing, headed back across the floor to her. She sat viewing her moon, and he stood, glancing at the teal orb through the glass. "Tell me, Cap'n...Have you men of faith in your lands? Men of magic and mystic arts?" The tone was light enough, but Jack's hands were clasped behind his back and his shoulders rolled back for a change, standing briefly to his full height.

She dialed the telescope in further to better see the storm that currently ripped across the moon's surface and caused it to shimmer in the sky, "Mn, yes. Magic does not run thick in the blood of the Korinthians, however. The talents we see are three: Bardic abilities, whose voices can stir the hearts of even the most hardened of our crews. They have a knack for empathy and lore keeping... enviable skills, really. Then there are the Oracles, whose powers enable them to tap the future potentials and make guesses at a chosen path. They're all a little strange, though, with their gazes seeing more misty 'ifs' then the current facts. And the rarest among our mystics are the Shapers. You've met ours, actually. She's young yet but talented. They tap the energies of this world and have the strongest connection to the leylines of our people. The can call wind, shape storms, and most importantly draw fresh water from the sea. They're quite the individuals, really." She glanced up, "As for the Continent, all I know them is there are sects of mystics who study for enlightenment's sake and those who seek to catch and bend the Leylines to their will. I presume there runs a spectrum of doctrines and abilities to go along with those extremes. I spend little time on land, you see. My title and my bloodline mark me for trouble outside any port. Why do you ask?"

Jack listened quietly as she spoke, head still turned up to the sky above. As she drew to a close, his hands unclasped and trailed up his stomach to rest at the black ribbon tied at his collarbone. "Aah. I see. ...Then perhaps you will understand when I say, that where I'm from, there are beings who brought magic to my kind. Not merely a shaping of storms, but all forms of magic. They... how can I put this... They -know- things, about the universe, about souls and life and death, and about the hearts of men." He paused, and very slowly drew the bow slack and then parted the two ribbons. He unfastened his cream linen of his chemise and drew it apart, revealing tanned, sculpted pecks, chest, shoulders and then something writhing, black, alive and squirming beneath his skin. It ran down his spine from nape of neck between scapula, tracing vertebrae, and mirroring it, a plexus of black over his stomach from sternum to navel. At the centre it looked like a Figure 8, but it bled out through his skin like ink and blood, like a swirling bruise. Though she was too far to feel its presence, it had an air of icy cold to it that pimpled the skin to behold. Jack took a deep breath, and in response the marking seethed for a moment before stilling to a molasses crawl. "Sometimes," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "Sometimes they pass judgment on men. They claim they must right the wrongs, take payment, impress a lesson of co-existence on us. Hubris, they call it, to believe we can act as we choose without consequence. And so they invent consequence and enforce it..."

She opened her mouth to speak as he undid his shirt then closed it again as his mark was revealed. Reflexively shivering at it, she shook her head for lack of words. "Jack..." she murmured, now fully turned away from the telescope to face him. “And that is your punishment? For what? And what gave them the right to pass judgment on the rest?" Her eyes flared in sympathetic anger, the very thought of being hedged by another's creed outrageous. She huffed and tossed her hair, that flash of indignance still bright in her eyes, "What does that do and what, then, if the lesson is learned? And who do they answer to their own mistakes for every creature that thinks and walks will make one at /some/ point." She frowned then sighed and came back to her question, her voice less forceful then before, "Why were you marked?"

Jack turned and looked at her, a hard, dangerous look flaring in his own eyes. "I'll not have ill talk of the Great Leveller, nor his kind. And if I were you, I would be careful of such words in -this- ship." He paused and shrugged the shirt up over his shoulders again, not bothering to fasten it now that the mark had been seen. He stuffed his hands into his pockets and turned to face her fully, the dark thing writhing and swirling between the two halves of cream. "My lesson is learned. It did not take me two-hundred years and more to struggle with it. But what good is that? It will not bring back the dead. My choice was made, and no amount of regret will undo time or how I changed it." He touched the mark and cleared his throat. "The Mark of Eight is a curse, Cap'n. It keeps you alive, no matter the injury, or illness or passage of time that strikes you down. It will keep you whole, and well and conscious of the pain it fuels you with until your debt is paid." he paused and offered a dark smile. "At least, that's how it usually works. But for my hubris the Great Leveller put the mark into me so strongly it will never fade, never be paid. It flows through my every vein, they say. "It keeps me from aging, and heals my wounds, constantly writhing to patch and mend and to force me to live through an agony equal to that I had caused."

She grit her teeth at his admonishment and met his gaze with her own strong, willful one, "And if I were you, I'd not be hasty to assume such things as independence were commodities to be claimed by another's crown. My people were forced from the continent generations ago, star farer, run off in a purge that demanded blood be the price of existence. There are ruins of our capitals, left to rot while the Barons and Mayors and Kings of stolen lands pry the resources of a land once prosperous. Do not tell me to bend to the will of a race that believes itself superior, Jack, for the reality to see now is the downstream current of a purge that changed the history of my world. They sing of barbarians ousted from lands, we sing of lives lost and stubborn heroes." She shook her head, proud and fierce as her people were known for, unashamedly giving voice to her opinion. Sitting back down once she realized she'd stood, Viira, turned to look at the telescope once more, "I do not know what you want me to say, Jack. That your Great Leveller was just in his injustice or question what you'll with the eternity given you. I do not live your life and I am responsible for ensuring the prosperity of hundreds." She sighed, a long low sound, "I do feel for you, Jack, to be marked like that... the implications are massive even on a moment's reflection. I still do not think it's fair to bind a soul to torment even if their lesson is learned - for when it is, that guilt and that knowledge rides with them without a geas to cause pain." Viira looked up then, her expression somber, "My only thought is to turn a curse into a gift. I don't know you, and I doubt I will know you fully by the time your ship departs, but given time and nigh on immortality, there is much I can think of doing to ensure the safekeeping of my people's innocents - perhaps you have a purpose you can bend yourself to." She stopped there, falling silent as she watched the moon.

Jack looked at her sadly, the first full emotion to have showed in his face. "You sound like I once did, Viira. I tell you, it is not the same. The Mystics do not claim to be superior. I truly believe that they are uncomfortable to be worshipped the way the Klergians exalt them..." A whisper ran through the room, a flow of static and sound, wordless as wind through reeds and water over rocks. Jack looked up suddenly and lifted his hands in a apologetic gesture. "No, she does not know. And she is not cut of our threads." A tinkle as if the echo of small bells. "Be that as it may..." Jack replied, shaking his head, and the music stopped. There was silence in the room. Jack lowered his hands and looked back at Viira. The sadness had gone, and there was a great deal of humility, and patience in his eyes, deep as the mountains. "I do not expect you to say anything." He replied softly. "You invited me to tell my tale. I begin with this, because it is where what I am now began. The Great Leveller has been exceedingly kind to me. He did not strip the treasure from me that lead to my fate, he has been my guidance and my friend these many long years, he saved my wife from withering away to dust as I remained...this you see before you." He paused, let the emphasis sink in. "I tell you this not for pity, not for solutions - for I seek neither. I tell you because it is the most fantastical of the moments in my many years. All else that came after, the adventures, the treasure hunts, the wars, the travels to strange worlds... All that becomes believable only in context of what I have been forced to survive. All the excitement since has merely bee a way to fill the minutes of endless days. I have no great cause, no great purpose. My years have taught me that. I will never again stand for any righteous cause. I will never again put myself in the way. I will live my life to as little resistance as possible, and like the mystics who keep me, I will try to keep the balance unperturbed. For that is what they strive for, Viira. Not conquest, not domination, not adoration. Simply to keep the elements in balance, to diffuse disasters so that the ripples do not radiate out and harm the innocent. It is not a cause that prefers any one race or planet or creed. It is merely the preservation of life." His voice had remained level throughout this, and indeed it was the most words he had strung together in a very long time. They filled the room the way the music had, obeying the acoustics the room was built for. There was a searching look in his face, a curiosity, a wonder if she could grasp the full depth of this, and doubt that she would not, a tentative delivery as if expecting to be scoffed at or waved off at any moment.

She looked at him strangely when he spoke to air and the music died, the quirk of her brow questioning. Viira remained silent as he continued to speak, her expression skeptical at the mention of kindness from a being that would doom a person to an eternity of torment. When he finished her thoughts were whirling, a spark of understanding lighting up her eyes as she took her time in formulating a reply. When she did, she spoke quietly, reserved and thoughtful, "I... understand what you mean to imply. There are greater pictures, larger balances but I am still left with this question: if you've gained such wisdom, and garnered such perspective over what I can only presume to be countless years, how can you do nothing with that knowledge? Isn't wisdom a facet of maintaining and preserving life? If there was understanding in this world, my people would not fear the land the landborne would not fear the seas..." She sighed, "That, to me, is a greater torment - to have the knowledge and understanding and yet be shackled by that same enlightenment. Would the balance you speak of not benefit from teaching others the importance of it?" She closed her eyes, not overwhelmed but saddened.

Jack looked at her for a moment, a serious expression on his face, then he chortled, a shallow, nearly wheezing laugh. "Oh, woman, to say those words to THE Black Jack Finnegan!" He contained his amusement and flopped to sitting on the deck beside her chair, and slumping his shoulders, hooked his elbows around his skinny knees. "I have no doubt the Mystics strive for such enlightenment, and recently the Seemian people on my world have begun to perpetuate their teachings planetside, striving for the balance and the gentleness the Mystics teach. But I am an imperfect creature. I understand the ways of the universe, the flow of energy a leyline, and cosmology. But I am no great teacher. In fact, I'm wretched at it. I have too much fame, too much notoriety to be that monk you extol." He tossed her a meaningful glance and shook his head. "All those in my world either want me dead, want my ship and then me dead, my treasures and then me dead, or for me to fight their battles for them. Not a one who has tried to climb into my hold or my bed in the last hundred years has had the slightest ear for philosophy, and would likely never take such council from the man who killed so many. He paused, and then, looking up to her sidelong. "Do you know, there are some who have Marks of Eight put into them to keep them alive? Intentionally so, and by those who have learned the Mystic Arts, not a true Mystic, for a price? Disgusting, mocking the meaning of it as a grab at half-life... But there you have it, that is the world you would have listen to me." He shrugged heavily and flicked a hand through the air.

She blinked, taken aback by his comment, "What's that supposed to mean?" Frowning, half-convinced he'd mocked her, she crossed her arms and eyed him with a petulant look, "Well I'm sitting here quite fascinated by your tales and your technology and not only am I unscathed, I'm learning. I don't think you're quite so awful as your supposed reputation claims." Viira regarded him over the top of the chair with a curious expression, having turned so she could hook her hand on the back and her feet around the back legs, "Then they're fools. I hardly know anything of your worlds and such a mark means more to me then a grab at an eternity I'm not sure I'd want." She frowned, "And if there is one who would listen to you, there are others. Ideas are hard to kill, after all, and with time – as you apparently have quite a bit of it - your story will likely become legend and pass into myth." She blinked and laughed, "Which I suppose feeds back into your philosophy of creating as few ripples as possible, hm? You've trapped me in my own logic." Bemused, the captain flashed a smile at him, "S'far as I'm concerned this so-called Black Jack Finnegan's an intriguing man with a heavy past. You've my respect, star farer."

"Well sure," Jack replied, grinning rakishly, amused further. "But you're a reasonable woman, and honourable from the looks of things. It helps, a'course that you've not been raised from swaddling clothes on tales of the notorious Black Jack Finnegan, half-steeped in the very ether of time, of rotted soul and endless wealth, roaming the stars in the Ship of Dreams, combing all of time for power enough to undo the Leylines themselves and make himself a God." Jack quirked his eyebrows at her. "I mean, honestly! And people believe this poppycock." He snorted and shrugged. "I think any truth of me has already faded to myth, m'dear. But aye, they are fools that think this curse is a blessing in disguise, and that my treasures would be so trite as power over others. I have had that, and I do not relish what it has reaped, I tell you truly." He looked up at her then, the ghost of a smile on his lips, and was silent for a moment. Then, he pushed himself to his feet as if he were an old man and stretched himself out. Offering a hand, the smile still faintly present he spoke softly. "Come, I have much more to show you..."

"It also helps that you weren't raised believing my peers and I are Pirate Kings bent on pillage and rape and terrorizing the seas." She arched a brow, "At least you can rest this evening knowing you've left a positive impression, yeah? I would hope that helps." Rising as well, she took his hand and laughed, "If you have marvels greater than your telescope, I will be most impressed. However, I do request a return here. I'm afraid I'm rather smitten with your device." She cast a fond look at it as he led her away, "Where to next?"

Jack tossed a glance over her shoulder to the telescope. "That? Faith, madam, that is nothing but a trifle. And expensive one, I'll warrant, but nothing compared with what my Ship can offer." He paused, glancing up, squinting, trying to remember. "I wonder if I still have that...Surely, someplace...." He shook his head, amused and led her up the steps to the landing again. "I may have a parting gift for you, if it is still in any condition to be gifted. We'll have a look before I leave. And as for my telescope, you are welcome to use it as much as you'd like. By all means, have your navigators make charts of your moons, if you'd like it. In the meantime, you have choices. What would you like to see next? Mechanics of the ship, or quarters, or, perhaps..." He paused on the threshold leading out of the room and peered at her, looking into her face earnestly. He leaned forward, gazing into her eyes, looking for something. "Mystic's blood if I have misread you, but I offer this now, and once only: would you care to see my Troves?"

Viira shook her head at the potential of a gift, "I came asking for nothing but a tour, friend. You don't need to part with anything unless you truly wish to." Her expression, however, belied the reflexive response and curiosity danced in her eyes. "I may just map the moon myself... I've some cartographer in me yet." Bemused, she followed after him and considered her options, ready to answer when he paused on the threshold, giving her reason to hold her tongue. When he leaned in close, her brows drew down and she readied a smart remark for his proximity when he asked she would like to see his troves. The quip died on her tongue and she grinned, unsure of what he was looking for - she held no ire or desire to manipulate, that he was freely showing her even 'trifling' wonders was enough to please, "I'll see whatever you allow me to see, so yes." She knew what a trove was for her people so it must be like the treasury of the Stormseed, his cherished tokens and heirlooms.

He smiled faintly at her response and tugged lightly on her hand. "Come then, stay close to me." He led the way to one of the brass ladders and releasing her hand, took to the rungs at a swift pace. He descended to the first landing of the hold, one of the very platforms they had seen upon first arriving. When she stood with him on the planking, he grinned at her. "Well, it doesn't do me any good at all down in storage. I have no need for it with the fine instrument you saw above... And I thought you might appreciate a Telescope of your own - even if it is somewhat well-used." He reached out for her hand again, and with the other reached into his pocket. When he withdrew it again, there did not seem to be anything in his grip, but he held his hand in the form of one holding a key and pressed this forward into a solid door before them. There was no handle, no lock hole, and no defining features in the slab of metal. Nonetheless, Jack emphatically turned his hand as if unlocking the door and a loud click resounded behind the thick metal. Looking over his shoulder at her he grinned. "Come on... You're the first person I've had down here in...faith, nearly 170 years!"

"Ooh, well then. If you insist." She gestured for him to lead on and followed after him with excited steps, her strides a little more sure. Following him down the ladder, dropping through its length with practiced ease, she stepped up to him again and took his hand with a questioning look. "What..." She began, wondering of his miming and then metal clicked, "It's an invisible key?" Highly amused, Viira laughed, "An effective safe guard. Is more of your special devices that allows that, like the teleporting?" She returned the grin with her own, feeling more like a child being lead into a cave of wonders then a captain. It was... breath of fresh air and stoked her youthful dreams of exploration and learning. "If I grin like a fool, not a word is to be breathed to my crew, understood? I'll never live it down otherwise - image to preserve and all that." She winked and looked beyond him, awaiting this trove, "And I am honoured by the trust, Jack. I'll do my best to repay the favour."

Jack saluted her with a light air and nodded. "Understood, Cap'n. I too have airs to upkeep. But it is more than an invisible key... it is the Key of Troves. A treasure yes. I believe it will speak for itself..." And so saying, he stepped right through the solid metal, pulling her by the hand. They stepped through and into another world entirely. The space that stretched out before them was midnight black and speckled with stars. The landing extended only a few more feet and then there was a gap and floating in the midst of nothing, completely unprotected was an asteroid of porous deep grey rock atop which sat a collection of goods, at the midst of which was a massive glass horse. All around them, floating about at various heights and momentums, some lazily spinning in the void, were other chunks of rock. Jack grinned at her, and he - like she - was enveloped in a thin membrane of golden dust and light. "This is but the first room of the Key of Troves. Shall I show you some of my treasures?" So saying, he stepped lightly off the landing and half-leapt in slow motion, half-floated onto the asteroid, hand clasped firmly and strongly around Viira's. He landed lightly on the rock, bouncing slightly from the almost non-existent gravity on the asteroid's surface. Around them were a motley of items, from wooden barrels to good ol' chests of gold and jewels, to standing globe spheres, to standing instruments like pianos and propped up paintings draped in white sheets. The glass horse stole the scene of course, towering some twenty feet in height and faceted as if made of crystal and diamond. It glittered in the myriad starlight and stood at the ready, facing the door they'd just come through, which from this angle merely looked like a slab of raw metal jutting up from the stone.

She braced against him when he went to pull her through, not too terribly inclined to walk into a wall. But then he seemed to phase through it, followed by his arm and then hers and then she was through, a faint tingling playing across her body that caused her to shiver. Then she shuddered and stilled, her grip on his hand tightening quite a bit, giving away her strength as her gaze was instantly grabbed away from the back of his head to the spacestuff around them. She wasn't even looking at the horse yet, too concerned with the lack of anything remotely resembling a floor... and that Jack was dragging her towards it. Instinctively holding her breath, she balked again as he dove off the edge, afraid that he'd just decided to leap off into nothingness and intent on ground him her own weight. The gesture, however, failed to do as expected and slowed her own momentum and sent her turning awkwardly over in the strange gravity as she choked, "First room!?" Kicking her legs as they spun over her head she grunted as she tried to find some means of righting herself in a place with seemingly no bottom. Breathing quickly, her grip strong enough on his arm to cut off circulation, she wondered what she'd gotten herself into. "Jack...." She murmured, half afraid breathing would somehow make things worse, "Help? Notice, remember?" Her eyes were wide as her gaze settled on the asteroid he'd pulled them to, flicking from gold to paintings then coming to a rest on the horse. "You like statuary?" The entire experience was so odd, she wasn't entirely sure she was seeing right.

Jack looked over his shoulder to the surprising sight of his guest upside down. "Whot are you doing?" He asked, baffled, and pulled her down to standing. Once her feet touched the rock, the gold film on her skin rooted her a little and she shouldn't have too much difficulty staying right-way-up. "Statuary?" Jack asked curiously, and followed her gaze to the horse. "Ah, the Mirror Horse... Beautiful isn't it?" He asked, admiring it. "It was an interesting task to get it up here, let me tell you. I didn't have the Talisman of Gruub, then, y'know. One of the Thirty-Two greatest treasures in the Known Universe." Jack said, and turned to look at her. "It makes all of this undetectable, unseeable to anyone outside of its space. You don't really think I'd trust my treasures to just float aimlessly through raw aether, do you?" He flashed a rakish grin. "Because of the Key of Troves, this place has become a part of The Good Ship Ptarmigan, and yet isn't. This space we are in can technically be reached from the outside, sailing along and plotting the right Leyline course, but even if one managed it, no instrument would pick up these things here. And if they tried to sail right through it, they would, and the Mirror Horse would keep them invisible, intangible, ultimately protected from anyone." He paused, looked at her, a spark of excitement straightening his spine again. "What do you think of it?"

"Flailing around like a floundering fish. What does it look like?" She returned when her feet finally set down and she inhaled deeply. Smoothing her coats down with her free hand then looked up as he explained it, "What's a Talisman of Gruub? I didn't think you had hammer space in your ship either...." Viira shook her head, "I think you have a very unique taste in treasure, good sir, and that your giant horse is quite amazing but I'm more in awe of the fact I'm not floating off and lost in this.... space. Those look like stars, are they really?" Give a cat a toy and it plays with the paper bag. Viira smiled, "I think it's also quite beautiful... is it magic?" She was trying really hard to pay attention to the horse but the mystery of their surroundings was quite distracting.

"Of course they're really stars." Jack replied, a bit miffed at her disbelief, but all in good-natured fun. "Here," Still holding her hand, he pulled her into him as if for a dance and turned her about to face perpendicular to the horse. Pointing over her shoulder with his free hand he murmured against her ear, keeping his head close to mimic her line of sight to make sure he pointed at the right one. "That orange-ish red star, the one just above that small chunk of rock? That's my home sun. We call it Sol." He quirked a half-smile and paused for a moment, before stepping back. "The Mirror Horse, Magic? I would assume so. The Mystics built it. I got it from the Arbas Moon of Selook."

She tensed as he pulled her against him then blinked and followed his finger, nodding when she spotted the orange start, "Sol... it's so small.... so... this is space? Really? The stars aren't much bigger." She mused, a little disappointed, "And you just float through the... you called it aether? like this? I thought... the way you spoke it'd be different... fuller, maybe." Figuring it had just been her imagination running wild, she turned away from the stars and set her attention back on the horse to give its proper respect, "Is their moon all crystalline then? It must be beautiful to behold." She'd mistakenly taken the comment to mean the moon was made of crystal too.

"Sol is very far away from here, many Grande Leagues away. It takes a considerable amount of aether and leyline plotting to get there, and a number of weeks at full speed jumps." Jack replied easily. "You see that film on your skin, and on me? That's Aether dust, what I spoke of that we use to move through nothing? It enables you to breathe right now. Without it, you'd not last five minutes in this." He turned to regard the Mirror Horse again and stared up at it, stern and majestic, towering above them. "It is a shame..." He murmured. "I would love to show you Arbas. It is beautiful. The moon is made of rock, but there are great veins of this substance. They jut up through the crust, like towering pillars of crystal. It's this black landscape pocked with silver and light. The Mystics of Arbas call the moon The Temple."

"Oh." She leaned back to inspect herself after she found the orange sun again, surprised, "Why? It just seems empty." Quirking her lips in a quizzical expression, as if tempted to find out what it was like without the dust, she tilted her head at that. "Does it take less time to get there then it does to your Sol?" Her question was leading, and on its tail a request, "I would like to see it. What prevents you from showing me - besides your entanglement with our leylines? I have no taken a shore leave in nearly a decade..." Viira mused, half to herself, half hoping he might consider actually showing her.

Jack eyed her contemplatively at that. "Selook is within the same solar system as Terrene, as is Ogrun Na." His glance took on a mischievous light, and he was standing fully to his natural height. "How long is your shore leave? I could show you worlds, wonders, magic, treasures the like you could not imagine..." His voice was quickening at the prospect, and he gave a tentative squeeze to her hand. He paused, thinking it through to himself. It had been ever so long since he had found someone who was honestly that innocent of his reputation and that in combination with her complete lack of knowledge about his world, the things he'd seen.... His heart was beating at the thought of a friend, a new adventure, a chance to push the darkness back for a while longer... Suddenly he blinked and looked at her. "Viira... You're in my dimension. Right now, here, you are in another universe from your own." He grinned, as if the adventure had begun already.

"Aah, that depends on how much time I can negotiate from my crew. There's a lot that I do that's not just signing paperwork and settling disputes. Usually it's a full lunar cycle... about sixty two days, and starts on a double new moon." She bit her lower lip and flexed fingers as if moving an abacus back and forth, "If I do well, I could get a double shore leave, considering how long it's been and since it's not actually on the continent, my crew should be more at ease. Losing a Captain's a blow I'd rather spare them and the Continent's dangerous, as I said, so I usually go back early." His comment brought her out of her mental tallying of favours and debts and she blinked in kind, "Huh? We just came from your ship, or are in it... something like that. I'm not sure." Her brows drew down in a look of confusion until she dismissed the attempt to puzzle through this wonder and simply held up two fists, bobbing one then the other, "My world. Yours? How'd we jump from one to the other without me even noticing?" Why seemed to be a question she was always asking, never quite satisfied with a basic answer. Still, the look on his face and sparkle of joy she caught in his gaze was infections and she grinned in return, "Well, you have a very nice universe, Mr. Jack." She squeezed his hand back in an excited gesture, "Why are you grinning like a fox? Should I expect to be turned upside down again?"

A Brief Flash (Wayward Saga)

2011-03-29T21:51:00.000-07:00

Ira: Hide? *looks around and then down at the guard, and then grins darkly* Hold on, I got an idea! *sinks into the body at his feet and stands the guard up, shifting his bulk around to get a natural movement going and opens the eyes to look at Lisette* You're glowing, babe... *the guard's voice pouring out of him* Now, when they come, I'll say I found you here...so... Uh... *grabs her hand with the guard's hand and puts on a gruff act* Come with me, little missy!

Lisette: *cringes as Ira dons the guard like a suit, but plays along* I hope you know what you're doing. If things start to go sideways, I'd advise you to close your eyes and plug your ears... or his eyes and ears. Whatever. Until then, I'll play along as best I can. Maybe we can find something out. *gets a worried look, part of act, struggling just a little to make it realistic*

Ira: *strides forward, hauling her a little roughly and rounds the corner* There you are! *calls out to another guard* Geeze, what took you so long? *waits a little unsurely as the other guard pauses and then steps closer*

Guard#2: What the hell is this? Who's she?

Lisette: Let go of me!

Ira: You shut up! *at Lisette, peering out through the murk of the guard's dead eyes* How the hell should I know? I found her wandering around in the crates. What do you think I should do with her? *trying to keep it casual-ish, as if he'd known this guy a while and was making banter*

Guard#2: Aw, whatever. Just take her back to Barracks and hand her over to Relay, as per usual. What the hell happened to your throat, man? *comes a bit closer but Ira waves him off*

Lisette: *struggles in vain, not actually trying to free herself from Ira's grasp, just playing like she is* Let me go! I didn't do anything! *starts to glow a bit brighter* You're not taking me anywhere! *waits until the second gaurd gets closer then, breaks free from Ira's grasp and explodes in a blinding flash, though she manages to stiffle the bang as much as possible*

Ira: *throws up the dead guards arms to shield himself from the blast and is physically knocked out of his corpse, to land in a skidding heap behind the body. Shakes himself and stands up, looking around for the other guard, as the body he was in crumples to the ground* Lisette? Aw, shit...

Lisette: *nothing is left of Lisette except the motes of light that are scattered everywhere. They do start to drift back to her original detonation spot however. The other guard is left clawing at his eyes, trying to regain vision. He's suitably distracted though.*

Ira: *sees the motes, doesn't quite understand, but leaps full on at the stunned guard, sucking into him instantly on contact and wires himself into his brain* "nighty night time..." * and shuts the guard's mind down, unconsciousness dropping the body before ira crawls out* Okay...Lisette?

Lisette: *the motes start to gather faster and in a moment, Lisette stands there wide eyed* Umm... is everything okay? *never know how long she's "gone" for when she explodes*

---MEANWHILE---

Garret: *nods along with Taryn's life story, sadly* Sounds pretty rough. *sighs* My life hasn't been much better. I was an only child, my parents are gone now. *frowns* I interact with a lot of people in my job, but I don't have many "friends" really. I've always been more of a loner I guess. Not many people are missing me, that's for sure.

Taryn: So...why are you in such a rush to get back to all that? Maybe this is a gift for you? A chance to start fresh? To do something else with your life? I'm sure you can fly a helicopter here just as well as back there.... *fidgets with the cuffs of Ira's coat a bit*

Garret: *quirks his brow, thinking for a second* I don't rightly know. Must me the brain damage. *manages to hold a straight face for a moment before cracking up* Seriously, I think I just want to get back to something familiar. Starting fresh is fine, but I'd just like to know where I'm trying to start from. *looks to Taryn* Any helicopter pilots needed where you're from?

Taryn: *grins at him* Hey, I know some people... We could use another news'copter. The guy we've been using lately is double-timing it with the weather folk, so he's not as efficient as we'd like. If you're interested in chasing police pursuits and tracking down stories, we could use you. It'd be nice to have a proper team again. After Jack left to move into t.v. filming, and Gary started working for the weather channel...well, my articles are only so good as the pictures I can get to go with them. *glances at him sidelong again*

Garret: You don't say? *nods* It beats flying tourists around I guess. Though I'd miss the wildneress and working with the parks department in winter, tracking avalanche risk. *shrugs* When we get out of here and get me all fixed up, we'll see what happens. *looks at Taryn, his stomach a little butterfly infested* If by then you're not sick of seeing me. *grins*

Taryn: We'll see, indeed. If you can handle working with me on a daily basis! *laughs and then sits up* Hey, did you see a flash over that way? *points across the containers* You think there's trouble? *shifts herself upright, places her feet on the ground, and they scale up again instantly*

Garret: I think I could handle it. *smiles* I could think of a thousand things or more that would be less pleasant. Like never seeing you again after this. *startles at the flash* What the hell!? *has no idea what Lisette's explosion looks like, since he was unconscious last time* You don't think...? *tries to climb to his feet, but wobbles at the sudden movement*

Taryn: Garret, don't push yourself! I'm gonna have a look... *in her concern, strips off the coat and shirt-skirt without a second thought and blinks into camoflauge; then speeds towards the location of the explosion, keeping herself blended and to the walls, heading towards the flash as fast as she can*

Garret: *was about to protest until Taryn stripped, then the words got stuck in his throat and he slumped back to a seated position* Ummm... alright... *it was only for a split second, and scales were already forming, but the image is still burned into Garret's mind* Beautiful... *he managed to stammer after she was gone*

Free Fill Week:

2011-03-21T00:34:00.000-07:00

This week, I didn't really have anything to say that would pertain to these beginnings. We're only now starting to get into the meat and excitement of the stories, and most of what I would say pertains to things to come. So instead of words - to give your eyes a break - I decided to draw up a sketch of two of the characters that you've met thus far:

This is Ender Tallis, the Were-Raccoon, and Topher Bier, the Were-Black bear, of Primal Crusades. These two are going to be going head to head and showing off their fighting prowess in the next chapter and onward, so I hope these sketches give you a nice solid idea of who it is kicking Demon ass!

If you guys have a request for a character you'd like to see a sketch of, leave me a comment!

Primal Crusades #3 - Mickey's Automotive

2011-03-12T22:06:00.001-08:00

Midnight. The city was dark, but no less busy than it had been a mere six hours earlier. Dark shadows fall across the streets. Demons are out there somewhere. Spreading corruption, sowing seeds of chaos and likely killing people who will never, ever be found. These were dark times to match the dark skies, but all was not lost. The night brought with it an influx of Gaia's defenders as well. The Zoanthropes were out there, making life better one Demon carcass at a time.
Asia sat on the edge of the closed dumpster idly spinning the blood from her batons. They were a Christmas present from her father last year. Light and strong, as titanium tends to be. Great combined with her Escrima skills. Fast and deadly, just like the girl herself. The heap of flesh that was once a Demon was already starting to decay in the urban coffin under her butt.

"You shouldn't have come alone, you moron." she spoke to the corpse, collapsing the batons and sliding them into her oversized, baggy pants pockets. Always a tomboy, Asia had little respect for what was considered 'womanly' and what wasn't. "Thought I was just some helpless chick, didn't you?" She laughed and hopped down, retrieving the men’s leather jacket she'd discarded when the fight started. Her ribs still stung, but she'd heal. "I may be a girl, but look who just kicked your ugly ass."

She wandered away from the scene, knowing to stick around might just be a mistake. And as she did, she cringed slightly. "Dorian is not going to like this." She dreaded the conversation, but she knew it would be better to tell him straight away. She was off to find Dorian. This attack was more brazen than most, and he needed to know.

Ender was vaulting the rooftops - one part constitutional, one part going his rounds. He caught a familiar whiff and took a turn and went south a block until the scent was strong in his nostrils. He swung down the fire escape with practiced ease and found the dumpster. Inside, the carcass of a Reeler was already turning to dust. Ender wrinkled his nose and let the lid clang shut, picking up another scent below the stench. He shook his head and took off down the alley towards the street, keeping good pace and hoping to catch up with her.

Asia was already a few blocks away from the alley and the dumpster. She was headed towards Dorian’s apartment, but she wasn't exactly hurrying. She was trying to make a little sense of what just happened before she got there, to add a theory or two of her own. She ran over the facts in point form with each step and shook her head. It didn't make the most sense to her even now. The attack was brazen and senseless. Even if she was a weaker Were, she could probably have taken it out. She might have more wounds to show from it, but she'd have still killed it. It probably could have taken out a fresh, unskilled Were, though. Maybe its intel had been bad. "Demon intel?" she muttered to herself and chuckled slightly. She got a weird look from some guys walking past and cut the laugh short, jamming her hands into her pockets. Her fingers touched the cool metal of her batons again. She felt like she was being watched.

She stopped in front of a convenience store and pulled out a cigarette, trying to pretend she was unaware. A thought blasted through her skull as she lit the cancer stick and took a long draw. What if the Reeler was sacrificed so that she'd kill it and then go running to Dorian? Leading something, or somethings, bigger and badder to where he lived. It was still a stupid plan in her mind. Dorian was bad ass, and usually Ender was there too. The two of them could likely handle whatever was thrown at them. She hoped.

She started walking again, one hand in pocket on a baton, the other handling the cigarette. She slowed her walking pace to even more of a casual gate and waited. Maybe she'd catch glimpse of whatever was watching her. Maybe she wouldn't. But she needed to buy a bit of time, just in case.
Ender was keeping up a brisk pace, but he didn't want to full-out run. It was better not to bring too much attention to himself. He followed after Asia, knowing her scent, and after a block and a half caught sight of her, the thin trail of smoke from her cigarette, the slouching walk. He shook his head and jogged up to her.
"You really should quit that... Bad habit." He muttered as he drew up to her. He knew better than to sneak up without announcing himself. He'd gotten cracked in the jaw with her nasty batons before. It wasn't a fun experience. He leveled with her and saw the bruises on her. "You alright?" He asked, instantly concerned.
Asia didn't flinch when Ender caught up to her. She knew better. She sensed him, or at least sensed another Were, close before he joined her. Still, his appearance had caught her off guard a little. Especially since she still felt like she was being watched. "Yeah, I know, but smoking relaxes me. And I could use a little calming right now."

She turned and looked at Ender with dark eyes peaking out from under darker hair. Her short cut was tousled as usual with the bangs sweeping down to cover over one eye. In the oversized clothing and the way she carried herself, she just kept showing the world how much of a tomboy she still was. And likely always would be. "I'm fine. Just some bruises and maybe a cracked rib. Stings when I take a deep breath. That bastard blindsided me when I left the club after the set. Luckily he was almost useless and didn't know who he was dealing with." She assumed Ender had found what was left of the Reeler. He had a habit of that kind of stuff. Especially this time of night.
"That's good." He replied, in response to her being okay, but then he frowned a little and swept his glance down the street. "I don't like it, though. It's not right at all. There was no sign of a rebel being on the loose. Too bad it was a Reeler...they don't talk much." Ender pursed his lips in the characteristic way he had when thinking aloud. He stood still in the street for a moment, smelling the air and listening. He liked this sort of murky night, made his vision all the sharper. "Let's get out of the open." He clenched his fists closed, feeling the cold spark in his palms. Be ready, just in case.
"I don't like it either. That’s why I was heading to Dorian." She explained as they walked. Ender was right. It didn't make much sense. And he just confirmed that it wasn't a rebel. Or at least not one that he'd heard of, so likely Dorian might not know about it either. That was not good.

She tensed as Ender stopped and smelled the air. "You feel it too. We're being watched, aren't we?" She threw down the cigarette and stomped it out, trying not to act too suspicious. She jammed her hands into her pockets and felt the metal of the batons come to rest in her palms. She nodded as Ender requested they get out of the open, her eyes already scanning for both a place to get out of the public eye and whatever, or whoever, was watching them. "How long do you figure until we have company?"
He nodded to her first question, not really saying much. She put out the cigarette much to his relief. It took a few breaths to clear his nostrils so he could smell again. He tried to pick up a whiff of whomever - or whatever - was watching them.
"If we were going to have company, I'd say it shoulda been here already. We're being watched for observation. I don't think we should go see Dorian." He kept walking, casually stopping at a crosswalk and waited for the light to change. He had switched course, but to anyone who didn't already know better, it wasn't anything to raise eyebrows at. "Let's head down to Mickey's Automotive. If there's something planning on starting trouble, they'd be ill-advised to bring trouble there. You up for a gamble?" He asked, sliding his glance her way, his Channelled eyes reflecting the lamplight.
"Always." Asia replied. She loved to gamble. She rarely won, but that wasn't the point. The point was the thrill of the risk balanced by the tease of reward. The only time she won on a regular basis was playing pool. She was a nine-ball queen and a snooker natural. None of the other games mattered to her much.

She shifted course when Ender did, maintaining the illusion that they were headed where they always were headed. Ender basically confirmed what she had thought earlier. The Demon was quite possibly sacrificed to her, in hopes that after disposing of it, she'd run to Dorian. He was probably the real prize. Not her mediocre life. "What do you have in mind?" She asked as they made their way towards Mickey's Automotive. She'd only been there a few times, so she didn't really understand the purpose of the visit, except that is wasn't Dorian's place and at least one other Were worked there. Seth. Asia smiled slightly at the thought. She was attracted to rough around the edges guys, and Seth was definitely rough around the edges. She pushed the girly thoughts away and focused on Ender. She went Channelled as well, enhancing her senses and growing little ferret claws at her fingertips. They were short enough to still wield her batons without getting in the way, and Channelled she could swing them that much harder should things get hairy.
Ender tossed her a grim smile, the sort that made folk know he was ready for business. "Few months back," He began, keeping his tone casual and light. "Some fool Demon decided to start some trouble, got hungry and thought Reese looked like a good snack - nice, strong, male stripper type. Perfect food for a Succubus." He calmly turned a corner as they approached the right intersection. "Trouble with that being two-fold: firstly, Reese has no interest in women, and figured something was up, and secondly, he was at his day job - Mickey's." Ender turned to look at her full-on. "Seth's not the only one of us they've got, and Mickey himself is a bad piece of work if you bring trouble. I just happened to be by, because Dorian was visiting Joel, who was visiting Seth." He shrugged. "That's usually the sort of atmosphere at Mickey's: a whole lot of hard people willing and ready to watch each other's backs." He drew to a stop in front of the neon sign, Mickey's Automotive. "That's the sort of atmosphere I'm looking for. You ready?"
The doors opened and a young man came through with a beat-up crate of scraps. He stopped on the threshold when he caught sight of them, his shoulders swelling for a brief flash before he recognized them. "Oh, hey Ender... Hi Asia." Topher carried the crate around the side of the building and stacked it with a countless number more and then returned to them, wiping his hands on a greasy rag before stuffing it into his back pocket, coveralls rolled up at the sleeves, snaps undone around his throat. He looked from one to the other, and paused before speaking. "What uh... What brings you here?" He tried not to look at Asia, keeping his glance firmly on Ender. Ender he could handle, he was a straightforward sort of guy. Asia... ah, better to not think about it. "Er, you wanna come in? We're closed now, but I'm sure it'd be okay..."
"Yeah, sure. I'm following your lead." Asia nodded her head to Ender. She'd heard stories about Mickey's and his crew, but figured most of it was bullshit. But with Ender backing the stories up, she rethought things. Ender wasn't the lying or exaggerating kind. A straight shooter if there ever was one. She kind of looked up to Ender in a big brother kind of way sometimes. Aside from Dorian, he was the most physically capable Were she knew of. "What, or who, do you think is playing spy? Demon or something else maybe?"

Her hands tightened on her batons as Topher came through the door abruptly. From the look on his face, he was gearing himself up for conflict himself until he realized who he was standing in front of. Asia relaxed a bit and smiled at Topher. She'd only met him a few times, but he seemed a decent enough kid. Didn't know he'd hooked up with Mickey's crew. Interesting. "Hey Toph. You're a working stiff now, huh?"
Ender smiled, seeing Topher. The guy never said a whole lot, but what he said he meant, and Ender appreciated that. He wished Topher had stuck on with his training. He could see a lot of potential in him. Still, he popped by now and then for training, so perhaps there was hope yet. It wasn't like he wasn't doing his own sort of training. He was a good, strong runner, Ender had seen first hand. So when this Bear invited him in, he nodded.
"If you would, thanks. We've got a head's up for you lot..." Ender gave Asia a meaningful look, as if to get her confirmation. After all, it had been her who'd been in the fight, not him. He wanted to get out of the night and into the safety of the warehouse. Anubis had put a warding on it a ways back - like a scrambler to listening Demon ears. If they were going to discuss the fact that there was a spy on them, he'd rather the Demons not learn how much they knew, or who was discussing it here.
"Uh...yeah..." Topher replied to her, holding the door open. Ladies first, after all. "Had to earn my keep somehow. I'm pretty much useless so far, but Mickey's teaching me about machines. It's good, to work with your hands..." Topher trailed off, not having much more to say on the subject. But it was, he was really enjoying it. There was straightforwardness to dealing with machines. No BS, just parts and function and design. Topher could appreciate that. He followed them into the Warehouse and gestured to Mickey, but before he got a word of explanation out, the burly head mechanic-owner hollered at him.
"What's all this, Bier? Am I paying you to goof off with your little friends, or what?" A harsh, hard voice, but the man was grinning around his licorice stick.

"We're closed, Mickey... You haven't been paying me for the last four hours." Topher replied, the first smiled he'd displayed since the other two arrived, a small, almost shy thing. He turned back to Ender and Asia, hands on his hips. "You want privacy, or is this something you want to tell Mickey too?" He asked, knowing that Mickey was keen on Weres. Still, the man sometimes said it was better not to know too much of what was going on behind the scenes. Just point him and let him loose, he'd say. Topher had to hand it to him, he could handle himself all right.
Asia had noticed that Ender didn't answer her question. She had no way of knowing about the ward placed on the garage to keep prying ears out, so she didn't know he was waiting to get inside before discussing things further. She just thought that Topher's sudden appearance was the reason she'd gone unanswered. As Topher held the door for her, she smirked. She hated being treated differently just because her genitals were different and she had bigger breasts than most of the guys around here. Still, she passed through the door ahead of Ender. Only because she wanted to get inside, not because she was a she.

"Yeah, something's going on." She affirmed when Ender looked to her for confirmation. "Something hinky." She didn't care who in here was a Were and who wasn't. As far as she was concerned, you fight with the Weres against Demons and other bad things, you're part of the extended family. And all the family had the right to know if something was up.

"This everyone?" She asked out loud, looking to see who all was there. She didn't know about Ender, but she knew she hated to repeat herself needlessly.
Once Ender was inside and the door closed, he turned back to Asia. "It's fine with me if Mickey listens in. He's got a right to be prepared." Ender began, looking for something to pull up as a chair. He sat down on one of the roller-beds and sat, brawny arms propped up over his knees. "Okay, now that it's safe to talk freely," He directed this at Asia, "If a Reeler was sent as bait, or as a test, I would say the chances are 90% that we're up against Demons. It isn't common that a Human would have enough influence over a Reeler to get him to do what they wanted him to do. As for a rogue Were - out of the question. Reelers would rather slaughter Weres than listen to a proposition." He paused, rubbing his hands together. "So, if we assume that it's a Demon gathering intelligence, the real question is - who and why?" Ender turned a slow glance around the room. "I think you might be on the right track about them hoping you'd lead them to Dorian's...But just to cross out other possibilities, can you take us through exactly what happened?" Ah, business as usual for the Night Watch. Some small part of him remembered a day when all of this would have shocked the hell out of him...yet, here he was, calmly asking these questions: cool, collected, clear.
Topher shrugged at Asia's question. "Seth was here too, but he ran 'round to drop off an engine a guy ordered. He might be back or might not..." Topher pulled up a stool for Asia and sat down himself on a toolbox near the door.

Then Ender started talking. Topher listened quietly, that pensive, intense look on his face whenever he was concentrating. Unlike the Racoon, he wasn't as calm about this yet. Demons were one thing, but organized Demons still scared him. "Woah, wait... A Reeler was sent after you?" He asked, wide green eyes riveted on Asia directly for a change, instead of averted. "Are you okay?" He asked, reflexively. I mean she looked alright... but from what he knew of her, she was tough...probably wouldn't admit to being hurt if she didn't have to. Still, he knew first hand what happened when you pretended you were okay - and weren't. He didn't say anything else, just waited for her to speak, fully and openly listening.
Asia stayed standing. It wasn't some protest to being treated like a woman, but more that she had too much energy in her still to simply sit. Adrenaline was still surging a bit at the moment but when it wore off, she'd know it. "Yeah, I'll live. Damned thing blindsided me. Got a few hard hits in before I could get my wind." She pulled the men’s leather jacket aside and lifted the side of her t-shirt, showing off the deep purple and blue bruises on her ribs to Topher. "I think a couple are cracked if not broken. It still hurts to inhale deeply." Thankfully the thing hadn't managed to pierce her skin. Lending more credence to the theory it was sacrificed to her and not intended to kill her outright.

She turned back to Ender and Mickey, letting her shirt and jacket cover her side again. She nodded as Ender asked her to recount the events. Couldn't hurt. Especially if it would lend insight as to what the hell was going on.

"Me and the guys had finished our last set at the club and I stayed behind to tear down my drums. Jack, the owner, was getting some guys in tomorrow morning to make some stage repairs, so I figured getting my drums out of the way was best for all." She started, glossing over most of the irrelevant details. "I ducked out the back and usual and BANG!" She punched her hand with a balled up fist, making a loud, fleshy smacking sound for emphasis. "I get blindsided by a Reeler. The thing was thrashing and beating on me, but come to think of it, it wasn't going for the kill. Once I went Anthro and pushed it off of me, I got out my batons and we started to really dance. Long story short, the fight didn't last much longer. I beat the life out of it and tossed it in a dumpster to decompose. Then I decided to tell Dorian ‘cuz this isn't normal for Reelers." She knit her brow, looking from Ender to Mickey to Topher. "And since Ender told me he hasn't heard anything about a rogue, I'm guessing I was set up. Nearly fell into the trap completely. If Ender hadn't caught up to me, who knows what would have went down."

She staggered in place for a second, the adrenaline starting to wane. Asia took the stool know, before anyone else started talking. She looked at Ender, curious about what he thought about the events. She also wished she could remember the fight a bit better, but the fog of animal’s instinct made her rational human memory a little spotty at best.
Ender listened carefully, logging each detail - knowing Dorian would want to have a damn photograph of the event when he heard about it. "Well, if it knew where to find you, it was given directions. Reelers aren't that good at waiting, and its camouflage would only have been appropriate for specific climates, that means, it's limited to Earth, darkness...are there any big windows by there? Because if so we could be looking at a Water Reeler. That narrows down our suspects a bit." He thought for a moment and then looked up at Mickey. "I brought her here instead of Dorian’s. I figured you guys would be able to handle a direct assault better. There's usually quite a few strong guys around here, and at Dorian’s there's a few young ones training right now. I don't want to put Vincent, or Samson, or Lilith, or Benedict or anyone else in danger. I hope that's alright?" Ender went quiet again, thinking, fingers fidgeting with the seam of the roller he was on. Something still didn't make sense to him. Why now? Why the sudden interest in Dorian? They'd known he was a Crew leader for some time now. Hell, they'd come after Ender himself a few years back. So, what had changed? Why were they now interested in finding Dorian... or, if there were dealing with a clever Demon, perhaps the whole focus on Dorian was a ruse to expose someone else? Hrm...
Topher frowned when he caught sight of that bruise and stood up without a word. He took a loping stride to the back of the shop, opened up a cabinet and pulled out a first aid kit. He rifled around inside it and then grabbed a tube. Then he stepped over to the "kitchen" a counter with a hot plate and a coffee machine plugged in, a decanter of hot water and a few tea bags. After a moment or so of tinkering he came back towards her with the tube of muscle ointment in one hand a piping hot cup of chamomile tea with a slice of lemon and a healthy dollop of honey in it.

While Topher busied himself Mickey nodded, crossing thick arms. "You're always welcome here. You guys saved my ass more'n I care to remember, and I like having these guys around. I owe you all."

"Here..." Topher murmured, eyes flicking up to Asia's face, both items outstretched to her. Then he turned away, back to the conversation at hand. "They know about us too. Seth's brought a few here over the months I've been here. And, I've heard stories about Reese and a Succubus..." Topher trailed off. Then he resumed, having collected his thoughts. "Either way, they're looking for a fight. Could it be someone's picking trouble to get some attention on their side? Anubis once told me that the politics in Hell are really cut-throat. If a Demon had enough standing to have underlings to expend, and was competing for a promotion, they might use us as an example of prowess." He stopped, and looked at Ender. "Or, they're testing out intelligence they received. Seeing if something is working. You know, casing a place for its defenses."
Asia knit her brow again and ran a hand through her dark blue-black hair. "There are a few large windows. Maybe three or four and all at least four by six feet in size." She had no idea what windows had to do with Water Reelers, but she wasn't entirely sure she cared either. "I didn't stop to ask what kind of Reeler it was; I just kicked its ass."

She eyed Topher as he trotted off and gathered things. She didn't know what he was doing, though she guessed part of it. When he returned with the ointment and tea, she took the ointment. "Thanks Toph." She replied, ignoring the tea for the moment. She once again lifted her shirt and did her best to hold it and the ointment and apply it to the bruised area. "Why couldn't I be something with extra arms or a prehensile tail instead of a ferret? It would be useful right about now."

As she applied the ointment awkwardly, she glanced back at Ender. "Sorry I almost led whatever hell back to Dorian and the younglings. I didn't even think."
"Do you want help with that?" Ender asked, watching her struggle. He offered a small, thankful smile to Topher for his concern and shook his head at Asia's comment. "No harm done. I'm sure Dorian would be able to handle it. It's more an inconvenience than anything, but we've averted that, at least for now." He thought over Tohper's comments carefully. "If they're trying to show an example of their prowess to their own kind, they're probably not making a very good impression thanks to this firecat." Her grinned at Asia and then shrugged. "Er, fire-ferret?"

He looked back to Mickey and then Topher. "But your second idea might just have something to it. We'll have to talk to Tavis, and Laertes and Anubis. Between them we might get some insight into what's boiling down there. If something is starting, I'd like to get our defenses ready." Unconsciously his hands shifted, channelled claws and fur rising over his knuckles, the crackle of black anti-matter flickering between his palms for a moment.
Topher didn't offer to help Asia put the cream on. She could manage that - she wasn't a baby. Beside, who else but her to know where it hurt. He kept his glance on Mickey and Ender while she applied it though, no need to gawk.

As Ender voiced his opinions Mickey and Topher exchanged a glance. "Asmodai's gone back." Topher blurted, speaking directly to Ender. "Anubis said he disappeared a couple days ago. He'd been running from them forever. We still don't know if he got snatched or if he went willingly. Either way, he knows a lot."

Mickey piped up then, scratching at his stubbly jaw. "Anubis won't hear of betrayal, a'course. Loves that Demon Prince an awful lot. And...gotta say, I wouldn'ta thought Asmodai would ever go back. The way he talked about the place...it gave a grown man like me the willies. Still..." His look grew dark. "They play tricks like that, some o' the Demons."
Asia shook off Ender's offer of help, she'd managed to juggle everything enough to get the job done solo. As she dropped the side of her shirt again, she tossed the cream back to Topher. She'd dropped her Channelled traits when they entered into Mickey's. No threats here that she knew of. She couldn't help but notice how fluidly Ender shifted though and wondered if it was natural talent or a skill like any other that allowed it. At a different time in a different place she'd ask. For now, she shifted into her mental 'unanswered questions' folder and moved on. "I have no idea who you guys are talking about. Care to enlighten?"

She took the cup of tea from Topher with a small smile. She'd rather a beer, but chamomile was better than nothing. Besides, it might help ease the adrenaline withdrawal some. "Thanks for the drink, Toph."
Their comments put a dark look on Ender's face too. He was pretty good at reading people, if he could toot his own whistle. And Asmodai had seemed genuine. An arrogant, stuck up, spoiled brat, to be sure. But what else should one expect from a Demon Prince? He shook his head. This definitely required Laertes and Pyrrhus' help.

At Asia's question, he looked up and offered. "Asmodai was a Demon Royal, a prince training in the Magus arts. A year or so ago he showed up in front of Anubis. He'd been practicing his arts and caught a flicker of Anubis' spirit and used it as a locking point to escape. Turns out ol' Telamon - a.k.a. the male stripper known as Anubis, Reese' friend, was an Offspring. He's part Demon. Now, those Half-Breeds born on Earth aren't necessarily evil. If they aren't Seeded, and aren't claimed, they're like Warlocks or Witches. For all intents and purposes they’re humans with unusual skills." He paused, thinking over the events of the last year. "Anubis said that he felt some connection, that some spark in whatever had sired him was connected to Asmodai's soul. There was speculation that he was the reincarnation or the descendant of the Demon Prince's previous lover. Either way, Anubis took him in. He'd been helpful - extremely helpful. He'd been able to tell us about the higher ranks of Hell, the levels we'd up until now only been guessing at. Asmodai had said that he'd give us any information we wanted so long as we kept him safe because he said he'd rather die than return to Hell - and for a Demon that would live forever, that's a lot of life to sacrifice."
Topher was motionless as Ender spoke. Listening attentively. He'd almost forgotten he was holding the tea still when Asia accepted the cup. He nodded his head to her when she took it, but didn't say anything else. He was too concentrated on the conversation at hand.
"Tavis never trusted Asmodai." Topher interjected. "But I never put a whole lot of stock in it. When he found out that Anubis was an Offspring he started disregarding his gifts as well." Topher frowned. "Tavis is racist, so I never paid much attention to his suspicions about them. I sincerely hope he's wrong..." Topher thought of what it would mean if either Asmodai or Anubis or both of them were spies or traitors or had been taken unwillingly back to Hell. "It's too elaborate a set up. Too much time wasted when it could have been done so much more covertly and efficiently, and directly. Hell is nothing if not impatient, as far as I understand things."
Asia listened to Ender and Topher in equal parts. She'd heard many of the names bantered around the Were circles a few times, but never really pressed to understand who or what they were. It seemed Anubis and the Demon Prince were names she should have known. Was she that far out of the loop since she stopped training, and hunting, with Dorian? Had she stuck her head in the sand for the last few months and missed anything else noteworthy? Ever since her father was arrested for assualt with a deadly weapon, her mind had been off the cause and on more personal matters. Her father was fine now, serving the first of his three year sentence, and there was nothing she could do about it anymore. So back to business.

"It seems we have no shortage of theories and hearsay, but we're short on real facts. Trying to guess Demon thinking is like trying to predict the winning lottery numbers. A crap shoot at best." She voiced to no one in particular, though she looked at Ender. "We need to turn the tables on whoever is spying on us. A little covert action of our own. Maybe we can at least find out something of an agenda. Or at least what's out there watching." She took another sip of tea and stretched out her legs, waiting to see what anyone else thought.
Ender paused, rubbing two forefingers against his lips in a nervous habit. "Well, there's always..." He paused, knowing already what Tavis would say. "We could always ask one of the Witches or Warlocks to put a Spirit on the case... Outside help might be the best chance of remaining undetected." Ender shifted uncomfortably. It was true that they had that sort of help through certain contacts, but for the most part he tried to fight his own battles alone. He didn't like drawing in other people if he could help it, especially not when it likely meant putting them into danger that wasn't rightfully theirs. He looked up at Topher. "We could tell Harper...."
Topher visibly jerked at that, unfolding his arms and eyes widening. "Oh, hey... That's asking for trouble. Sure we can't predict Demons's thoughts, but we can predict their actions even less. Harper's a loose cannon. I don't think he'd be helping the Hellions any time soon, but helping us is a totally different kettle of fish. Besides, he'd be as likely kill them as sneak about spying for us." He shook his head adamantly. "I think that's a last-choice, personally."
Asia sat bolt upright, wide-eyed and already shaking her head before she uttered a single syllable. "Whoa… whoa... whoa! I'm with Topher on this one. Harper is waaaay too unpredictable. Using a Demon, even one that may be on our side, kind of defeats the purpose. It's not Harper's issue to deal with, it's ours." She'd never met Harper, and never wanted to. She'd heard the stories. How he'd been the right hand to the Monarch of Hell. Got turned into a Devourer for some plan they'd had and then, when he was too much of a threat to their own regime, cut loose. He now was out for vengeance. Vengeance leads to blood in the streets when you're dealing with Harper’s kind. No thank you.

"I had meant for us personally to do the spying. I have trouble sitting here doing nothing when I know something is going on. It's counter-intuitive and against my instincts. I'm a curious ferret after all. And I think I can be sneaky and stealthy enough. Unless magic is involved..." She frowned. No matter how in tune with the inner ninja you were, certain common magicks could still flush you out. "Now if we had magical assistance..." She let the implication hang in the air, seeing how it was received by all present.
Ender glanced at her. "That's a gamble... If they're already spying on us, they'll be watching your moves quite closely." He didn't try to dissuade her though, Ender knew better. And besides, she had a point, it was their problem. Gaea hadn't granted these gifts for nothing. Then he spoke again, aloud to all in the room. "Laertes and his Darkling are on assignment in Australia at the moment. That leaves Tavis, Robyn or..." Ender looked pointedly at Topher. He knew Topher was the one with best ties to Meredith, but their relations were awkward at the best of times. He didn't know how well things were going recently.
"Or Meredith." Topher replied, a little hollowly. He took a deep breath through his nose and held Ender's gaze. Meredith... Topher felt himself frowning just thinking about her. But Tavis likely would simply want to flush the Demon out and kill him right away, and that wasn't any good. Robyn was good - for his age - and might not be strong enough to stand up against demon magics on his own. Finally he sighed, shoulders slumping and shook his head. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his blackberry.

"...I'll call her." He murmured and wandered a little ways away from the group for some privacy.

Mickey watched him go with raised eyebrows. He chewed thoughtfully on his licorice stick, but didn't say anything. He'd heard of Meredith but never met her.
Asia smiled. "You said yourself that anything Demonic can't hear or see us while we're in here. So they have no idea what we could be planning. Are you gonna tell me there is only one way in and out of this place?" The wheels were already turning in her brain. If they could slip out through a bathroom window or something. An exit that normally wouldn't be watched very carefully, they could get out without being seen. And if they could be cloaked, even temporarily, they might be able to get the drop on whomever or whatever was watching. Assuming it was still our there. It did hinge on the use of magic, which she knew next to nothing about. It might not even be possible.

"I'll leave it to you guys when in comes to the magician types. I know squat."
Ender made a face similar to a wince and shook his head. "If we knew what sort of Demon was watching us, I'd be more willing to go with that." Ender sighed. "There are too many kinds of Demons who can sense us, just as well as we can sense each other. If that's a Seeker out there...and there's a good chance it is... As soon as you step foot outside of here, it's know where you are. You can't sneak up on them. We could use you as bait, knowing it would pick up on you, and jump it...but again, all this--" he waved his hands in emphasis. "Is just conjecture. We don't know what we're up against."
Asia frowned and slumped in her seat. Just sitting around chatting about what could be happening and what it could mean was driving her nuts. She wasn't much of a sit back and wait sort of person. Apparently Ender was. She didn't think he would be, but she guessed he was a more prudent person than she. "So what then? We sit and wait?" She asked dejectedly. Her gaze shifted to Topher and he sighed. "And what about him? Can't whomever he is talking to help shield us from detection? I thought that was the point of making the call?"

Asia took another sip of tea and waited. Already her legs were twitching and she kept staring at every window, door or other means of slipping from the building all stealth-like. "Sorry... it's just driving me nuts knowing something is out there right now and our only plan seems to be sit and wait for it to go away."
Ender smiled a little ruefully. Now and then, he forgot that she was older than he was. "Ah, young grasshopper, I said sit and wait, yes, but not for it to go away... We must be stealthy, like the spider..." He dropped the wise old man accent and shook his head. "Meredith may be able to help, yes. Let's wait and see what Topher has to say."

Mickey tossed a glance side-ways at them. "Y'know... I might be able to help. If they can sense you guys, it means I won't be showing up so good, eh? When the shit hits the fan, count me in. I've got crowbar, steel-toed boots, and a world o' hurt at my disposal."

Ender grinned up at him. "I expected you to say that. I wouldn't dream of turning you down, man. I know you haven't had a good fight in a while, and I wouldn't dream of asking you to sit this one out. You're in. We could use you."
Topher returned, shaking his head and slipping the blackberry into his hip pocket. He flicked his glance between them and shrugged a little.

"I explained the situation to her." He began, frowning at the toes of his shoes for a moment. "She said to give her about ten minutes or so, and she'd phone me back with some info." He made a vague wiggle with his fingertips. "She's doing her thing."

He leaned his back up against one of the steel girders in the place, unconsciously rubbing his shoulder into the hard metal, like a bear scratching itself on a tree. Topher, more than any of them, seemed to have no qualms whatsoever about waiting. Say nothing of Topher Bier if he was not patient to a fault.
Asia visible relaxed just a little. It seemed the chance that they might get some action after all was all she needed. A small smile crept across her features, angular and sly... ferret-like. She still fidgeted from time to time, but knowing that there was more to the plan than sitting and waiting for whatever it was to get bored and go away made her feel less twitchy. Besides, if it was a Demon, they were immortal, they could wait forever in theory. Most she’d heard about would get frustrated, though, and do something. Immortal didn't mean patient.

"Alright then. That's better." She couldn't help a chuckle at Ender's wise old sage voice. "So what is Meredith doing anyways?"
"Meredith is a Witch." Ender replied to Asia, not knowing how much she knew about Meredith -- or Witches, for that matter. "They have magic, obviously, but it isn't quite like Demon magic. It's more subtle, more rooted to this planet. So, it's sometimes harder for them –that is, Demons - to pick up. Mind you, it also isn't as powerful or as fast as a lot of the Magic the Demons have at their disposal. But, I think it will be right for this situation." He smiled at her, a small, crooked thing.

"What exactly is she trying?" He asked, looking up to Topher where he stood.
Topher focused his far-off glance back on Ender when the Raccoon asked him a direct question. It took him a silent moment to bring his thoughts back to cohesion, then he replied slowly. "She's dowsing, I think. Trying to pick up on the Demon out there. If she can pin-point it, she'll be able to tell us what kind it is, where it is, and if there's any magic present. Depending on what it is and the situation, she said she might send one of her Dryads to help us out."

Topher shrugged as he said it. These things were not new to him. He'd seen Meredith's skills before. He knew her competency, her thoroughness, her patience and eternally collected approach. It was somewhat comforting to know that she was taking care of her side of things. Freed him up to just focus on his own actions. Just deal with the situation - with the Demon and not be worrying over her. He flicked his glance to Asia, then to Mickey, then back to Ender. He was sure they'd all be able to handle themselves. Just like a proper crew. He gave a small smile.
"Any idea of how long we're waiting to see what she... dowses? Is that a word?" Asia twisted her face up in indecision about her word choice. It just didn't sound right, but she couldn't think of the proper word at the moment. "Whatever the word is, any timeline?"

As she waited she watched the others and drank the rest of her rapidly cooling tea. She knew Ender was a true warrior and if even half the stuff she'd been hearing regarding Mickey, whether he was human or not, he was no slouch when it came to fighting either. Topher on the other hand, had the air of someone not accustomed or dedicated to fighting. She knew he'd studied under Dorian, so he knew how to defend himself at the very least. Chances are he could fight to save his life or when pressed to do so, but he didn't strike her as the 'take the offense to them' sort. He had a more passive vibe to him. Maybe she was wrong. Maybe it was a moot point in thinking about it, but if she had to stand shoulder to shoulder with the youth against a Demon or Demons howling for their blood, she wanted to know he could hold his own.

"Hey Topher. I know you studied with Dorian some. How far along are ya in his training regime?" She asked, knowing Dorian had basically three levels. Self defense being the first and Ender being an example of the last. She had stopped after the second level, unable to fully commit to the style of training needed to go much further. "No offense. I'm just curious."
Ender looked to Topher for confirmation, he's the one who'd talked to her, but he'd made it sound like ten minutes. "She said she'd call back in ten to let us know what she's sorted out, right?" The Bear nodded back, pensive and quiet. Ender smiled at Asia. "Is ten minutes too long to wait, antsy-pants?"

When Asia questioned ability to fight, Ender grinned to himself. Topher was fun to watch fight. He had a habit of surprising you, in all stages of his Beast. Ender just hoped that Topher would stick with his training this time. He'd started and stopped three times already, and he had so much potential, he really hoped that Topher would rise to the task. He just had to get over his fear of what happened when he really put forth all his effort...
Topher blinked when Asia asked him a direct question. His expression opened up, a boyish honesty, straightforward and earnest. "I'm not offended at all. I finished Stage Two a year ago. I began Stage Three again last Tuesday." He replied softly, not proud or boastful. He paused, then grinned, a little sheepishly. "I'm not too bad, you know. I am a Bear after all...hear me roar." He jested.

He looked to Ender. "Ask him, he's the one training me. I'm not a complete lost cause, eh? At least I haven't failed anything."
Asia smirked. "I know she said she'd call back in ten minutes, I'm not totally deaf. At least not this long after a gig." Her smirk turned into a cheeky grin as she stuck her tongue out at Ender. "I meant, assuming she finds anything useful and decides to help out, how long would her help take? I know squat about magic and such, so this is all out of my frame of reference."

She nodded when she heard about Topher's training credentials. "Cool, then you're one up on me kid. I washed out after Stage Two." She looked to Ender and smiled, knowing that was not exactly true. She knew it and he did too. But the full reasons she never went on to Stage Three was not something she advertised. And here and now was not the time to delve into that dark corner. "Fair enough then. If you're training with Ender, you must be decent. He taken you free running yet? It's quite the workout." She remembered free running with him, and missed it. Maybe she'd start back up again.
Ender laughed easily. "I'd thought it was an odd question." He rubbed ruefully at his jaw for a moment as he thought. "Well, the dowsing should only take about 8 to 10 minutes. Hence why she'll call us back then... But as for if she sends a Dryad? It depends on who she sends and how compatible the elements are and all that..." He trailed off and grinned at her. "Sounds wishy-washy and mumbo-jumbo, but that's Druidic magic for you. Depends a lot on the planet for how helpful it can be. But I shouldn’t think it'll take the Dryad more than 15 minutes to get here, assuming she deems to send one. I'm sure she'll fill us in when she calls back."

Ender smiled at Topher and gave him the Nod, that 'I appreciate what you've done, so thank you' nod.
Topher nodded to Asia's question. "Yeah... It's alright. I prefer just regular running, though. I'm not really into flying over leaping chasms of cement. We Bears, we're riverside, tree climbers, don't do so well with stone and concrete." He looked up as Ender snorted. "Well, and I tend to do too much damage free-running. I uh...I'm a bit strong in form."

Ender began to tell a tale of when he tore a drain pipe clean off the side of an industrial building a few months back, and Topher grimaced. He was about to protest the tale when his blackberry trilled and he excused himself to go answer the phone, stepping away from the group again and lowering his voice to a hush.
Asia nodded as Ender explained the magic lady's hocus pocus as he knew of it. She'd never really been interested in magic, not like Tavis was, but she knew it had its uses and was glad they'd cultivated some magical contacts for times such as these. She had no idea what a Dryad was, but asking seemed pretty pointless. Besides, she didn't really care to know either, so she just let the question fade back into her mind. Instead, she leaned back and just listened to Ender's story of Topher's free-running adventures. At least, until Topher's phone chimed and he excused himself. Things got a little quieted then as they waited for news.

Distant Star - Log 03 - The Farviewer

2011-03-06T12:49:00.000-08:00

Distant Star - Log 03 - The Farviewer

"Ahhh... She won't like that." Jack grumbled, frowning at the skiff strapped to the deck. He could see it was pulling against its ropes, trying to get away. "You might want'a be careful there, Cap'n. The Skiff's a bit miffed at being restrained like that." He strode over, all bowlegged and stroked the gunnals. "S'alright luv, no harm, no foul." The skiff stilled a little and waited as they finished untying her and climbed in. Jack sat at the controls and offered a fleeting smile at Viira as he pulled a couple stoppers and lifted her neatly into the air. Their take off and flight was completely smooth. As lazy and sloppy as Jack seemed as a person, his flying was impeccable. He lifted the skiff back to the level of the Ptarmigan and he pressed a button on the controls of the skiff, and a Threshold opened in the hull of the Ptarmigan. He directed their small craft into this blackened opening and brought the skiff up to a landing platform where she seemed to hook herself into a brace. He hopped out of the boat lightly, and turned, offering a hand to help her out of the craft. "Welcome to m'home, Cap'n. Let's begin the tour, shall we?"

Viira blinked as Jack spoke of the Skiff as a living thing... when it clearly was not. Ships might have moods and general personalities but... they were not creatures. Eyeing the other for a moment, she offered a confused, brief apology before gingerly finding her way into the craft. A little unsure of herself, she stayed near the edge, ready to disembark in a blink if this whole flying thing didn't turn out. As it was, his lift off and flight might have been smooth but the sensation was entirely different to the captain and she leaned over, gripping the rail as she stepped in time with the rock of the skiff. At least that was familiar. Shuddering, she recovered her poise and shook her head at Jack, not entirely sure if she was amazed or daunted by flight. "I think that will take some experience...." she murmured, bemused nonetheless. When the skiff settled into its moorings and Jack offered his hand, she nodded her thanks, a little surprised. Not many people did that on her ship. She was just as capable as the rest and climbing was second nature so the gesture struck her as pleasant bonus. Taking his hand, she used him as an anchor and pulled herself aboard, "We shall. What is this place called? It seems akin to our own sub-berths and docks." She peered curiously around.

"Whot, the Brig?" Jack asked, laughing. "Good Ptarmigan, luv, I'm home." Jack called to the ship, and in response gas lights flared up in glass flowers all along the walls. The planks and curvature of the hull was very much as one might expect on the inside of a ship, but there were a number of seemingly floating levels of decks, jutting walkways and support beams connecting them in a lattice of storage spaces. There was one other skiff moored in the same floating fashion as the one they had just climbed out of. Several doors stood off the many landings spiraling above them, but Jack lead the way to a set of brass rungs set into the wall of the hull. "This way, Cap'n. First to the more habitable parts of the ship, then to the workings..." And he hopped the foot distance from the ledge to the lowest rung and began climbing up at a reasonable pace.

"The Brig?" She looked taken aback at that, then laughed, "Looks nothing like our Brig, good sir." Tugging her gloves snug against her fingers, she started after him, and kept her surprise at the automatic torches relatively quiet. That must a relatively useful ability... it took a dedicated crew a fair while to set the lamps blazing on the Storm Seed. Climbing behind him, she took the opportunity to look at the landings and crossways and everything made of metal. It astounded her that it didn't all just fall out of the air. Metal was denser then wood and had to be shaped for use in water, otherwise it sank... the how of why it managed to stay aloft was something she was most keen to learn. "Do you travel everywhere in her?" She asked, conversationally.

"Most assuredly." Jack replied, grinning down through his feet at her. "She's the best ship in the universe." He passed several landings and finally pulled out in what looked like a corridor in a high class mansion. "Ptarmigan and I have been together, whot...nigh on two-hundred years now. I wouldn't give her up for anything." He rested a hand against the cream and olive striped wall paper paneling on the top half of the walls in the corridor. The bottom half was beautifully finished cherry wood, the floor carpeted in a tightly woven rug of deep greens, gold, cream, blue and grey weave. Despite the proclaimed age of the ship, all looked pristinely cared for. Here too the glass flowers protruded from the walls on elegantly cast brass pipes and along the ceiling copper tubing ran the length of the hall. Jack roused himself from his seeming reverie and with a ghost of a smile still on his lips he strode forward, hands stuffed in his pockets. "This was to the habitable areas..."

Virra shook her head, "Two hundred years? It's hard to imagine..." She stopped when he paused to think, standing tall and sure as she regarded with the interior with interest. It wasn't at all like what she was expecting... more like her chambers then a metallic boat. "Do you keep a galley and stores and the like, as a ship would? How many rooms are there?" She walked by his side, pausing only to touch one of the flower lanterns.

"Aye, the Galley's below, with the larder and such. By rooms, do you mean habitable ones, or including the Chambers?" Jack asked over his shoulder, as the reach the middle of the hall. He paused. There was a set of brass rungs leading up, a set leading down, an atrium opening up off one side of the hall to a threshold, and further along the hallway a seeming ballroom could be seen.

"Quarters, but a count of all would also be enlightening." She replied easily, stopping when he did though her gaze continued down the hallway to settle on the ballroom. Why...? One brow arched in a quizzical expression as she turned to face him, "I thought you said you lived alone... what need do you have of a ballroom? It must be lonely to dance by yourself." She frowned a little. Such public spaces were multi-use and transient on the Storm Seed, storage as needed then cleared as needed. To keep a room open meant it likely had purpose beyond what she was seeing.

"There are ten habitable rooms, including Quarters, Library, Observation Deck, Conservatory, Atrium, and Turrets. There are another twenty-two rooms including the Chambers that are for work, storage, equipment and so forth." Jack paused, following her gaze to the Observation Deck at the end of the hall. He was silent for a moment, and then, in a soft, nearly husky tone, he replied. "I do live alone. It was not always so... Mystic's Blood....it has been years since I had a party on those floors..." He sighed deeply, a single lean hand rising to his chest, falling away in a faint sketch of a dance movement. He strode towards it. "Likely the room I spend the most time in, these days. It's the Observation Deck, come." He swept past the other options he had paused indecisively before and into the aforementioned room. He paused on the landing, his hands braced against the wrought iron balustrade and waited for her reaction. The Observation Deck looked out from the stern of the ship, and was floor to ceiling glass panels that wrapped fully around the room. The expansive ballroom floor was down in hardwood in maple. The area they stood on was a raised deck from which two sets of gently curling stairs swept down to the dancing floor. The upper parts of the wall here were upholstered in green velvet rather than the striped wallpaper. Set into the velvet were a series of brass-gilt-framed portraits done in rich oils: one of Black Jack, considerably happier and younger looking in a crisp midnight green uniform and grinning, with a plaque reading "Lord Jonothan's Medal Ceremony"; one of Jack in formal garb with a beautiful young woman, clasping hands and smiling in front of a large, elegant mansion in green estates with a plaque reading "Lord and Lady Harlow at Thistlewaite"; one of jack as a young man, barely out of his teens, seated in front of a stern looking brown-haired man and an exotic dark-skinned woman with luxurious black hair and stunning blue eyes in a library setting, this one's plaque read "Lord and Lady Harlow with Master Jonothan at Ptarmigan Hall". On the floor to one side of the stairs were a number of pipes, tubes and instruments, many of a nautical look for navigation. Mirroring this on the other side was a cabinet mounted with a large gramophone, a series of charts and maps on the wall mounts and a decanter of what seemed to be port. From the floor itself and stretching up through the glass ceiling was a massive telescope underneath which were a series of gears, cogs and a well-worn chair with ornately carved wooden legs decorated in gold leaf and upholstered brass brocaded silk. "Welcome to the Good Ship Ptarmigan." Jack murmured softly, and with a modest amount of pride.

She paused when she stepped into the Observation Deck and let out a quiet breath of surprise. It seemed much about Jack was surprising. The view from the windows was much like that from the Captain's Chair aboard the Storm Seed but then it was the contents of the room that drew her attention most. While telescope dominated the view, it was the pictures that drew her first... glimpses of the past that seemed strange to her. The pictures themselves spoke much about Jack but she had manners enough not to ask prying questions and so inspected them closely as she headed towards the ballroom's floor. Once there, she turned her gaze to the telescope and laughed, "That's a big far viewer you have there." Lacking more elegant words, she drifted closer to inspect it workings, "Does it work bilenses and gears as well? How far can it look?" She tilted her head up to align her gaze with the direction the telescope was pointed and frowned thoughtfully, "You gaze at the stars?"

"We call it a Telescope. It can give me a clear view of the surface of the moon, if I so direct it. It can be adjusted not only for focus on nearness or farness, but also on aim." he tripped lightly down the steps and gestured for her to sit in the chair. "Here, let me show you..." He knelt beside her and began cranking wheels and levers on the floor and the side of the machine. The sections of the Telescope began to twist and rotate, as Jack brought the lens about to aim directly at the levels of Storm Seed that it sat level with. He extended the glass to its utmost reach and then using a small reflected peephole, brought it into focus. "There, tell me, what all can you see through my Farviewer?" He asked with a gentle tone, and stood, leaning over her with one hand braced on the back of the chair she sat it where it was bolted to the deck. There was an amused twinkle in his eye, a thought-lost joy in discovery in being able to bring wonder to a people who had no malevolence to his past or reputation. It was a much-needed fresh breath.

"Really?" Viira's voice rose a little, not in anger but in enthusiasm. This was something of personal interest to her... she had her own farviewer, of course, and it was a good one but it couldn't see the moons' faces! Without hesitation she took the seat and leaned back to watch as Jack adjusted the telescope, noting which gears and supports whirled with which motion. At his question, she quirked a brow and pushed back her untamable mane of hair as she leaned in to press an eye to the scope and found herself staring at the top two decks of the Storm Seed, including the Bridge. The motion in the Ptarmigan had caught attention and several officers were staring at her. "Hey! They look close enough to touch! They're completely confused." She sounded rather amused by that statement and let her gaze rove elsewhere, all sorts of details were visible... things she hadn't gotten to see in such a way before. The way rails and supports wrapped around the outer edge, the colours and wear of wooden planks a man's height in width... it gave her a new appreciation for her vessel. Pleased as punch, she continued to look, murmuring things she was noticing for a few more minutes before she sat back and looked round to reward Jack with a broad and earnest, perhaps a touch mischievous, smile, "It's quite impressive. I am amazed! You said it can look at the moons too? I've never seen the face of our moons closely before..." The taste of one thing had whetted her appetite for more discovery, it seemed, and she nudged the scope, curious as to how to set the telescope on new targets.

Splitting Up (Wayward Saga)

2011-02-28T18:53:00.000-08:00

Garret: Well, I think we need to find out where we are. *sighs* I think one or two of us should scout around a bit and see what they can find out. No sense is wandering aimlessly if we can avoid it. *looks at the others* I'll stay here. It'll probably be best. And no offense Taryn... but you kind of stand out so maybe Ira and Lisette?

Lisette: *nods* Yeah. Maybe we can find out where the closest clinic or hospital is. Anyone have any money? *she bites her lip in thought* Maybe we can get some clothes for Taryn too. At least footwear.

Ira: Money? *laughs before he can stop himself* Uh, that would be a no... I think I've got 17$ and 53 cents. *climbs down from the stack, having caught his breath again* But yeah, me'n the little lady can have a look 'round and hopefully find a map or transit or something.

Taryn: Uh... yeah... *stares down at her scaley toes, all rust and brown from the colour of the dirt* My feet don't hurt at all, these scales are better insulation than any shoes I've tried... but yeah... *colours again, hair tinging pink for a moment before fading back to brown* I stand out...

Garret: *reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his wallet. He opens it and pulls out some bills* All the hard cash I have on me amounts to... *counts it out* ...about forty-five bucks. *hands it to Lisette* It's yours if you can make use of it. Don't go too far guys, it won't help to get lost. Just try and figure out where we are and get the general lay of the land. *looks at his watch* What do you think? A half-hour or so, then back here?

Lisette: *takes the money* If I see anything, I'll try and stretch the money as far as I can. *looks over Taryn* Any particular style? And size? *looks back at Garret* Half-hour? Okay... I don't have a watch, but I think I can judge thirty minutes okay without one.

Ira: *checks his watch* Sure, half an hour and we'll meet back here. We'll make sure to stick together so we don't get lost. *smiles, obviously tired, but still in good spirits*

Taryn: Don't worry about clothes for me right now. We don't have enough money between us... If only I had my wallet, I'd be able to buy myself something, so just concentrate on finding out where we are, and medical attention, okay? *sits down on the tarp next to the 'TARDIS' and smiles bravely*

Lisette: *nods* Okay... location and medical treatment. *looks over Taryn and Garret* Me and Mr. Personal Magnetism will be back soon. *glances to Ira* Come on Ira. *smiles*

Ira: *grins back at Lisette* Adventure time! *starts narrating in a cheesy comic book style* And our two brave heroes, Glowing Gal and Mr. Personal Magnetism, head off into the dangers of a suburban wasteland... Who knows what they'll find... *marches off with a purpose in a random direction*

Garret: Good luck you two. *sits down on the crates Ira had stacked up* How are you doing Taryn? *looks at her with concern* I know this isn't easy with me being injured and all...

Taryn: *waves them off, chuckling despite herself and shaking her head, then sighs, stretching out her scaley toes. At garret's question she looks up* I'm okay... I mean, my head is reeling, still. This has been a little weirder than I thought possible. But, it -is- nice to know I'm not the only one who's...a little different. Like I can be myself again... *exhales and smiles shyly* Anyway, you've been a great help, you know. We couldn't have gotten out of that place without your... skills. So, thank you.

Garret: *nods his head along with what Taryn was saying* It's a lot weirder than I though possible too. Remember, I didn't even know I have any "powers". *sighs, it still gives him a mild panic attack to think of himself as a superpowered person* But as for getting you guys out of there. I guess I just had to use m head. *smiles and wiggles his eyebrows*

Taryn: *laughs at his comments* Yeah, your head saved the day! *sobers a little, thinking about it* For me, it's been two and bit years since this started. It was gradual at first, I actually went to my doctor at first, thought I had a skin condition... *smiles wanly* But, if Ira's theory has any merit - if someone somehow brought us together... Why were we picked? I mean, if you didn't even know you -had- powers, then it couldn't have been a case of watching us and figuring it out and picking us up one by one... Something else is going on here. And to wind up in a sealed warehouse? what's that supposed to mean? It doesn't make sense to me...

Garret: *nods* None of this makes much sense to me. I never asked for any of this, nor did I want it. But here I am. I guess we'll all just have to roll with it until we stumble upon the answers or find our way back home. *he sighs, his head still swimming a bit* Not that I don't care for the company, you know, just... this is outside my comfort zone.

Taryn: Comfort zone, mn? *thinks about this a little, and shrugs herself, snuggling into Ira's big coat* I did freelance journalism back home. I'm used to reporting on the weird stories, not...y'know, being a part of them. *glances at him side-long* But, I... I -am- glad to have met you. Too bad it wasn't under better circumstances. *pauses a moment, chosing her words carefully* When we get out of here, and home, then what? I mean...these abilities won't just go away. What do you think you'll do?

Garret: *shrugs yet again* Well, depending on how long it takes to get back home, I might not have a job waiting any longer. Or a home come to think of it. I suppose I'll just do my best to start again. *half smiles at Taryn* As for my powers... well... I don't know. I wish I did. I wish I had some foolproof plan or some grand idea, but I don't. I have no idea what I'll do. *he shakes his head and lowers his gaze to his feet* I'm pretty sure I'll wanna stay in touch with you all... and yes, Ira included. I hear he saved me.

Taryn: *reaches out and places a warm hand on Garret's arm* It's really nice to be able to talk to someone else like me... er, you know what I mean. *grins sheepishly* We'll be fine, you know. You might have to get that bump looked at, but... you're strong, you'll be fine. As for Ira... yeah... an unorthadox hero, but he did end up being pretty helpful, when it came down to it. I thought he was a bit of a flake, but I guess he's okay, all things told. *leans back against a crate and tucks her legs up under her*

Garret: *he smiles as Taryn places her hand on his arm. He lays his own hand upon hers and looks her in the eyes* Thank you Taryn. I know what you mean. *his expression changes slightly* There is something I've been meaning to say. *pause* I'm sorry. When we first met, I was really freaked out and I over-reacted a bit. I'm sorry if I offended you. You've been my rock since then, helping keep us all sane. *smiles again* I appreciate it a lot.

Taryn: *smiles at the human contact, something she hasn't had a lot of in recent months* It's alright... I mean, what with circumstances... and my...well, my scales. I know they aren't very pretty to look at. Still, it's what's inside that counts, I think... I'm not offended and certainly not upset. For what it's worth, I think your...gill-things are really amazing. *smiles again*

Garret: *actually blushes* And forgiving too? Taryn, you're a saint. *he winks and chuckles* Truthfully, now that I've gotten over the initial shock, I think the scales are kind of... pretty. *he visibly weakens a bit and slumps ever so slightly, though he does give her hand a slight squeeze* As for my gill-things, I have no idea what they look like, but if you think they're cool, I guess I have to take your word for it.

Taryn: *laughs* Are you kidding? I finally find other people as different as me, you think I'm going to sabotage that because they were shocked at first? Don't be silly. *gently punches at his shoulder, but goes literally scarlet at his next comment* Er, you're making me go colours again... *clears her throat* They're... sort of like fingers, like rigid anenome cilia, they flare and have a sort of pearlescent shine to them. If I had my camera I'd take a picture for you. *laughs lightly*

Garret: I'd settle for a mirror and the ability to turn my head without nearly passing out. *he said it like a joke, but it strikes a little too close to true* I wonder if they've found anything yet? *changing the subject to avoid killing the mood further with his injury*

Taryn: *concentrates on filtering the scarlet out of her hair and scales and doesn't make comment on his injury, but instead squeezes his hand* I sure hope so. I mean, to be fair, it's a tough task. We've got nothing to go on, and no idea what's out there. I just hope there aren't patrol dogs. I hate dogs. *shudders and frowns a little*

Garret: I know. I hate not knowing. It bothers me plenty. *he sighs and smiles warmly again* At least the company is good. So I can't complain too much. I just wish I was in the air. *twists his face awkwardly* Not using my powers... in my helicopter. *looks around again, to see if anyone is returning yet* Not a dog lover huh? Cat person then?

Taryn: Helicopter? Wow, I'm impressed. My newsie friends tell me they're tougher to fly than planes. *smiles back warmly and shifts a little closer to him and gets comfortable* Uh, no, actually. I've never been a fan of anything that could get under my feet. I used to have fish, but they're hard to play with, so a few months back I got myself a bearded dragon. His name is Soloman. *laughs*

Garret: Yeah, they can be. Planes you point in one direction and go, pretty much, but a helicopter can move in all sorts of directions and hover. You need to make more corrections when flying one. *as she shuffles a bit closer, he moves his hand from off of hers and wraps it around her shoulder* Are you cold still? *smiles as she talks about her pet* I'm not surprised you like scaly pets. *laughs*

Taryn: *nods, burrowing into the coat a bit* Yeah, a little. I wish I had pants instead of your t-shirt-skirt, I gotta say. *chuckles and gratefully snuggles into his arm* I never used to like scaley pets, really. I used to think they were creepy. But, hey, I learned to appreciate them pretty fast. Did you know that their young is pretty much never raised by the parents, but grows up on its own, fending for itself? I find that very brave. I've tried to take a few cues in the last couple years from that. I think it's the only reason I didn't totally lose it when all this *wiggles her fingers, faintly scaled and clawed still* started happening.

Garret: *gives Taryn a hug-squeeze* That's pretty cool. So... *pauses, trying to think of a good way to ask this* ...does that mean you don't have any family, friends... boyfriend, missing you back home? *glances at his watch again, avoiding eye contact again*

Taryn: Well, I have co-workers, but being correspondance, I don't usually have to see them in person, y'know? As for my family... My mom and I don't talk much. She divorced my dad years back and moved us half-way across the country, my little brother and me. We never really forgave her. Dad got together with some new woman and started a new family that we aren't part of. I kinda...shut my friends out when this happened - it was too hard to trust them, to try to explain. So, it's been just me n' Soloman for a while now. I kind of joke that Sol's my man...but no... Haven't found anyone brave enough yet to handle a lizard girlfriend. *sighs and shuts her eyes, a little nervous for some reason*

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Meanwhile...
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Lisette: *chuckles despite herself and gives Ira a little punch to the shoulder* Glowing Gal? *walks off in the direction he's going as well* Sometimes I wonder about your sanity Ira. *still chuckling, though it trails off the further they get from Garret and Taryn* I'm following you.

Ira: Sanity? *ponders this* I'm plenty sane... I'm just a hopeless nerd, that's all. My ma always says I never grew up. *shrugs* If you're following me...then I say.... *looks about and notices another security cam* I say we go this way... *turns right down an aisle of storage containers*

Lisette: *following Ira but not trying to look like she's completely freaked out and lost. Just in case they bump into someone, she doesn't want to give them the wrong impression right off the start* So, are we looking to talk to people? Or just find a phone booth or something to tell us where we are first?

Ira: Uh... I hadn't really planned that far ahead. Let's see... *scratches at his sideburns* In the Adventures of the Mysterious Five they usually send Raven out to scout, with The Cloak shielding her from a covered area. She observes and then steals back to the rendevous point with gathered intelligence... But, *grins over his shoulder at Lisette* Seeing as neither of us can slip into shadow and fly and such, my game plan is to maybe find a sign, or a map, or a phone booth like you said. If we find someone else first, we can try to ask questions... but... *shrugs and gestures to the containment boxes around them* I somehow don't think we'd be welcome guests in a place like this. Best to be cautious, yeah? What do you think?

Lisette: *nods* You're right. Something tells me finding someone around here might raise more questions than we have answers for. Especially since we have no idea where we are. *keeps up to Ira, eyes peeled* Okay, so we're looking for maps, transit schedules, a discarded newspaper, something.

Ira: *grins and salutes* You gottit, Firecracker! *winks* Now, stay close and quiet and let's do this as quickly as we can - afterall, we said we'd meet them back there in a half-hour, and *glances at his watch* we've burned ten minutes already. *hunches up into his shoulders to try and lessen his height a bit and sneaks forward, glancing around a containment block and whispers back to her* Let's try going right...

Lisette: *glances at Ira as he hunches up and shakes her head* Stop being suspicious looking. You're gonna draw attention to us. *she may have been a meter maid before all of this started, but it was enough of a authority figure to get used to people trying to be deceptive* Right eh? *looks both right and left, seeing no real significant difference* Alright, but lets hurry. Like you said, we're running late as it is. We still have to get back as well.

Ira: Me, suspicious? *raises a comical eyebrow and stands upright again wiggling his fingers* But, I'm spooky ol' Ira, remember? I'm always the suspect. Anyhoo... *strides forward, glancing around for a poster or a newspaper or something with text on it* You see anything?

Lisette: *looks around, but doesn't see anything immediately* Nope. do you see anything?

Ira: *peers around a container on their left* Aha! lookee here... *points ahead and down a wider gap, possibly a dirt loading road* There's a fence down that way and a building behind it - probably the business end of this place. Lotsa cameras though... What'd you think? *chews his lip in thought and excitement*

Lisette: *looks to where Ira is talking about* Well... we've been on camera ever since we got off the roof, so they don't bother me anymore. *looks around at the other options* And it doesn't seem we have a whole lot of other options. We don't have time to screw around too much. I say we take our chances on the other side of the fence.

Ira: Oooh! The sparkly one has guts! I'm impressed, Lisette! Well then, you don't gotta convince me none, let's go! *and without further warning goes bolting off towards the gate, surprisingly fast for a skinny nerd, and leaps up at the chain link fence, grabbing it some seven feet off the ground and scrambles up and over with zero grace, but fairly good efficiency and drops down on the other side. He calls back to her* We are now, officially, tresspassing. I'm gonna head up to the building! *turns and takes off again*

Lisette: *stands there wide eyed for a half second as Ira runs off impulsively. She makes mental note to blow him up sometime. Just a little.* Ira! *she calls somewhere between a whisper and a shout then bolts off after him. It takes her longer to climb the fence, but she makes it to the other side, then hunts for Ira again* Ira? Where did you go you...

Ira: *ahead of her and out of sight, but not out of earshot, calls out to her* Over this way... Something's weird about this place, though, I gotta say... *the tone in his voice is a far cry from his usually light and jesting manner, and there at his feet is a guard - standard security type uniform, an empty holster and swollen wounds on his neck and collar*

Lisette: *follows the sound of Ira's voice, to find him and the downed guard* What did you do? *looks from the guard to Ira and back* And why?

Ira: Oh, hey now... This weren't me! *holds up his hands* I don't make lesions! *frowns back down at the guard* Though that means there's someone else here with this guy's gun. I don't like it. *squats suddenly* here, help me rifle his pockets, maybe he's got a wallet - driver's license or sommat...

Lisette: *looks around worried* Oh god... this just keeps getting worse. *starts to glow a bit, but bends to help Ira search the body* Is... is he dead?

Ira: I... I dunno. I'm no good with first aid stuffs, that seems to be Taryn's schtick. Whatever the case, let's do this quick and get out of here before someone get's the wrong idea... *finds a few coins, some keys and a pager and holds them out* What'd you get?

Lisette: *stops her searching and holds up what she found* I've got a Starbucks card and some hand sanitizer. No wallet. No I.D. At least none that I can find. *looks up and around* Don't guards usually work in pairs at least? Where is his partner? And what are they protecting?

Ira: Starbucks? Man, this guy has no taste at all. *offers a wry smile* Maybe whoever got the gun took the wallet too. With the coins left, I'd say whoever it was wasn't interested in rolling the guy... I mean, he's still got his watch and stuff. Maybe it was someone like us - teleported here and no idea where he is, eh? As for a partner... I haven't felt anyone else yet. *glances at her meaningfully* So, this one's a bust. We still don't know where we are. Suggestions?

Lisette: *frowns* How much time do we have left?

Ira: *glances at his watch* About 14 minutes left. You wanna head back and tell them what we found and I'll keep looking, or...? *stands up all of a sudden, turning to look the other way* Someone's coming. What do we do?

Lisette: *she started to ponder going back as Ira stayed and scouted more, until his revelation that someone was coming* Shit! *looks around for a place to hide, but she is still glowing a little as well* Umm... *doesn't like what she's thinking of doing, but desperate times* Hide! I'll distract whomever it is... then you get the drop on them. Don't hurt him... just in case.

Information Week - The Setting of Distant Star

2011-02-22T11:54:00.000-08:00

The Setting of Distant Star
So, better late then never here's this week's post! Every so often there will be an oddball week where something different will be posted - anything from illustrations to informative blurbs to Q&As.

This week is fleshing out the setting of Distant Star, which follows Viira Kavan and Black Jack Finnegan as they try to sort out the mess that teleporting into foreign planets causes! Much of the logs will be taking place on, in, or around the Korinthian City Ship Stormseed. It is Captained by Viira who is both head of the military and equivalent to a queen aboard her ship. The planet itself is called Solum and will be discussed in later posts!

About the Korinthians
The Korinthians are a sea-faring people that live in and around massive ships called City Ships that are more or less like floating Capital Cities. There are currently seven of these ships and each one is accompanied by a fleet of smaller vessels which both defend and supply the larger ship. The culture is based primarily around maritime practices such as fishing, salvage, and piracy. Indeed a good portion of the goods that the Korinthians obtain is via piracy and they're rather infamous for their unparalleled skill on the Ocean.

Everyone aboard a City Ship pitches in whether they are a child or an elder. Most of the able-bodied young adults and adults man the fleets that tend the city ship with anywhere between 30-55% of the population out on the Shadows (smaller trade- and fishing- type vessels) or the Escorts (larger, armed vessels that both protect and engage in piracy). Newly assigned individuals, be they transfers from other ships or coming of age are posted to the Shadows, serve several years there and then are transferred to the Escorts where they again serve for several years, working their way up the ranking system of Korinthian society.

Due to their piracy and historical prejudices, Korinthians are generally disliked on the Continent and while there are no better naval mercenaries then these people, they are often treated as a double-edged sword and scapegoat. Many countries enjoy commerce with the Korinthians but only in so much as they provide rare and valuable goods both from the ocean and from booty obtained through piracy. There are those ports that are friendly to Korinthians but in general the attitude is on the suspicious side of neutral to openly hostile.

The people themselves are hardy, tough, and cunning and while magic doesn't run particularly strongly in their blood, they are not without their talents. Magic manifests itself in three primary ways: Bards, Oracles, and Shapers. Bards, through verbal means, are able to augment their surroundings, be it inspiring courage in their fellows or enchanting tools and objects for greater longevity, and are the most common of the Sparks. It is also for their skill with voice and music that Korinthian musicians enjoy both fame and infamy... and the reason that music can almost always be heard aboard a Korinthian vessel. Oracles are akin to shamans, they are born particularly sensitive to the ebb and flow of souls and Ley Energy to the point where they are often able to predict, quite accurately, the course of events. Oracles are not unique to the Korinthians, however, and are often the individuals that Leylines choose to make Avatars. Finally, the Shapers are individuals who are also in tune with the flow of Ley energy but are innately quite talented at bending said energy to manipulate the natural elements. Shapers are primarily female and are very important in the functioning of a City Ship, often enjoying a position of prestige. Shapers are able to make fresh water from sea water, track underwater occurrences such as currents or schools of fish, and manipulate the air (and to a certain degree, the weather).

The Stormseed
The Stormseed is the third of seven of the City Ships and is home to 1,063 people, enjoys the talents of both an Oracle and a Shaper, and was the vessel that first spotted Jack's The Good Ship Ptarmigan. City ships are unique in that they were built with the wood from a forest on the Southern Sub-continent called the Warren and have a double row of masts and twin hulls for stability. They are neither fast nor agile ships but they are armed and to take on a City Ship in naval combat is to also engage their accompanying fleet. Each of the City Ships is from a time in history when the Korinthian people were forced off the continent through war and subterfuge and are a testament to the glory the Korinthian Empire once enjoyed.

This is a general idea of what the Stormseed looks likeClick the image to see a larger version!

If you have questions or comments, please feel free to post!

Primal Crusades #2 - The Pub

2011-02-11T19:08:00.000-08:00

Outside the shop, and down the side was Morgan's truck. It was the standard full sized Dodge Ram, paint a little chipped and body a bit dinged from heavy working, but chances were it ran perfectly. Probably even better than when it was on the showroom floor back in 1998. "Get in, smart ass. It's not locked."

"’Dear’, ‘ass’, ‘girl’... Man, you oughta be careful, or I'm gonna get the impression that you like me something hard, man." Seth was shaking his head as he got into the truck, scooting up onto the seat easily. "So, pub fair and a Were-waitress. This evening is turning out to look pretty good." He buckled his seatbelt and began drumming his fingers on the dash.

"So, you never did answer me... Why is it you don't hang with your own people?"
Morgan climbed into the truck, the whole things shifting to one side as he did, and adjusted his bulk into the seat. "Like you? I'd break you, stick man." He had no interest in men, but he also didn't balk at the normal homophobe jokes most men did. He knew who he was and what he was. "Yeah... Just watch yourself around her. She's a predator."

He fired up the truck and pulled it out of the shop-yard smoothly. They hit the road and it was a few more minutes before Morgan spoke again to respond to Seth. "Why?" He shrugged. "I'm not social."

"Aw, I feel the first flames burning...like napalm. Looks like you and I ain't got much romance to us, uhn? S'fine, I get enough love from my machines - and it seems so do you." He paused at Morgan's next comment. He shifted himself under the seatbelt strap and pursed his lips. "Look, I know I don't look like it, but I'm a predator too. I can deal. But, I gotta ask...she tough shit, or something? Is she gonna give me your share of sternum-thumpings?" Seth wasn't interested in men either, and perhaps because of his rampant heterosexuality, he was extremely comfortable jesting around. He'd won a fair few rounds of Gay Chicken with Reese and Mickey and Joel.

Morgan shook his head slowly and sighed. He knew he should explain before they got to the pub, about Moriah, but some sick little sadistic part of him wanted to see what would happen if Seth wasn't warned. After a few seconds deliberation, he decided to forewarn his new friend. "I don't mean predator by breed." He started, already he'd spoken more to Seth than he had to anyone else in a long time. "If she weren't a Were, she'd still be a predator." He didn't want to give the wrong impression, so he didn't go into details of what he meant. Moriah really was a good person, she just had some bad habits when it came to people. And if you knew what to watch for, you're fine. Something Morgan had to learn the hard way. "And yeah, she's a scrapper. She gets a thrill from it."

"Aw yeah?" Seth felt a little thrill of warning. That didn't bode well, really. He had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach, but he wasn't going to act on it. He just had a sneaking suspicion about this kind of Dame. He'd been in relationships with ones like that before. Hadn't gone too well. "I'll try'n keep my trap filled with food and maybe I won't get slapped about in something that ain't my battle."

"That might work." The bison replied, pulling into the parking lot of the pub. The Hunter's Moon was part pub, part restaurant, like most turned into these days. Originally owned by a Were, he'd heard, it now was under ownership by a family that had no idea about the wars outside their comfortable walls. Still, it was good food, big portions and relatively close. Lots of beer to choose from too, which Morgan liked. "We're here." He announced after parking and shutting the truck off.

"Good thing too, I could eat a horse." Seth quipped, getting out of the truck and swinging his arms over his head. "Let's go meet this viper of yours..." He added, unconsciously tightening the sleeves of his coveralls about his waist. He strode forward and opened the door of the Pub, and held it open for the other man. "Drivers first. After you..."

Morgan pulled himself from the truck and slammed the door shut behind him. He didn't lock the door because, well, who would steal the truck? It wasn't stylish or anything. Besides, if it did get stolen, he was sure he could find it again. And when he did, he'd use The Beast to run the thieves over. It needed a good test drive anyways.

"She's not a viper. She's an owl. And she might not even be working tonight." He knew she would be. He knew her schedule quite well. Funny how he only seemed to come in on nights she was working.

He walked past Seth and into the pub. The place was pretty standard. Lots of wood decor, pool tables, darts, pull tab machines here and there. Notched but well taken care of wooden tables. There was even several television screens displaying various sporting events distributed through the place. One of the guys behind the bar nodded to Morgan and he nodded back, heading for a table off to the side. He wedged himself into a chair and relaxed just a little, taking in the smell of beer and cheese and whatever else the kitchen had been cooking a lot of tonight. He didn't bother looking at a menu, he knew what was on it. Beside it was only two pages and one of those was just appetizers and finger-type foods. The other was mainly burgers and other pub fare.

Then he caught sight of her. Moriah. She was working just like he knew she would be. She in turn noticed him and with a sigh, made her way to the table. She was dressed primarily in black, as always, a combination of goth and punk. Dark hair with chunks of lighter and darker colour throughout. She wore a black skirt with silver safety pins over blood red tights. Her tall doc marten boots still gleamed glossy black in the moderate lighting. Her features were a little angular but pretty, although she never carried a warm expression. In fact she always looked like she was sizing up prey.

"Hey Moriah. Bring a pitcher." he told her when she got to the table.

"Yeah, the usual. And what about you? You want something to drink too?" She asked looking at Seth with a critical copper-coloured eye. Her tone was a bit cold, and it was clear she was only here for a paycheque. She gave the impression she'd rather be elsewhere but she wasn't. She was here and working. If they had been normal customers, she'd put on the facade of charm but they were Weres and she couldn't be bothered hiding who she was from them.

Seth let his eyes run up her as she approached - not checking her out like a patron at the bar was, but looking at her. She had a hard look to her, a frigid efficiency that obviously could turn nasty right-quick. Seth smiled easily and without even looking at the menu replied easily, in a voice that showed it was proving nothing, just easily confident. "Give me your best burger and a pint of whatever dark lager you'd recommend. Onion rings on the side, instead of fries, if you would." He eased himself back in his chair, hooking one boot up on the bar between the legs and rested his elbow against the armrests of the chair and had himself a good look around.

Morgan allowed Seth to order and then nodded to Moriah. "The usual." was all he had to say to place his food order. Moriah knew it. Heck, the cook was probably already starting it as soon as Morgan walked through the door. He was predictable when it came to food, but he knew what he liked and was fine with it. He always meant to change things up someday. He almost smiled as he pictured the look on Moriah's face if he ordered anything different. Then the realization that she really didn't care came creeping back.

"Surprise, surprise." She commented dully before turning on her heel and walking away from the table.

"Since you keep asking me why I don't run with a Crew, which Crew do you run with mainly?" Morgan asked plainly of Seth.

"My Crew? I thought it was obvious. I run with Mickey's. The only mother tough enough to run a bunch of our kind. He's a tough bastard, used to be a tough-guy champion, from rough places. He's lived in core New York, Johannesburg, Cairo." Seth shook his head. There were many more places Mickey'd been - or as he liked to put it 'lived through'. But Seth figured Morgan wasn't all that interested in the finer details. "Of our boys, we've got me, Tyler, Jaime, Joseph, and now little Topher. That's not mentioning the few regular boys we have who could take care of themselves easy - Rowan, Reese, Mickey himself, and Jason, fuck man, he's ex-military for chrissakes." Seth grinned, remembering good times with his crew. "We're a tough load of bastards, I'll tell ya. All good people...well, I dunno about Jason Trelly...he's something else entirely."

Morgan shrugged. He'd heard of only a few of the others Seth had mentioned and didn't even know some of those were Weres as well. Had he cared a bit more, he might have been embarrassed that he'd asked what was apparently a dumb question. Instead he just absorbed the information and filed it away in his brain in case he needed it sometime. It would likely fade away in a few days, to be replaced by some other tidbit of knowledge. Likely knowledge of a mechanical nature. Still, Seth's crew, or Mickey's technically, sounded like a hard bunch of guys. It was kind of comforting that they were out there fighting for their kind.

"You sound like a bunch of badasses." He commented before Moriah returned with the drinks. She deposited Seth's dark lager and a pitcher of ale for Morgan, then left without a word. Morgan watched her go, then resumed what he was saying. "Some Ed guy came by when I moved to town. Didn't like him much. Too intense for me."

Seth raised his glass to Moriah, but she just walked away. "Friendly..." He muttered to himself. He took a sip as Morgan started talking, smacking his lips appreciatively at the taste of it. "Good brew..." Another mutter. But when Morgan mentioned Ed, hell, how could Seth not snort? Seth had gone through Ed's brand of training back in basic training. It didn’t stick too well with him then either. Apparently Seth McGrath had too much of a problem with 'authority figures' to be a part of 'this man's army'. He shook his head. "Ed's Ed... I sincerely hope you ain't judging yer whole kind on that pisser? Ed's Crew is a bunch of tough people, sure, but they take the whole thing as serious as suicide bombers, man. I don't get along with hardly none of 'em. Mind ya, I try not to piss 'em off too bad, 'cuz they're good at what they do to be sure." Seth shook his head again and had another sip. "Seriously. If Ed was your first impression...Well, I hope I can make up for that." Seth half-bowed in his chair, the coyote grin on his face again.

The problem was, Ed was the first impression he'd gotten of the city's Were population. Try as he might not to, he had made judgments based on that encounter. Inside he knew that Ed was just one guy. He couldn't possibly be the master mould to all the local Weres, but Morgan just didn't have the desire to seek any others out after meeting Ed. Sad, but true.

"I'm sorry." he spouted. "If you trained under than Neanderthal, you have my sympathies." Morgan cracked a slight smile, but kept his Ed bashing comments low. Moriah was one of Ed's people. Tough as nails and about as unforgiving too.

He picked up the pitcher of ale like it was a giant stein and drank from it. Moriah had stopped bringing him a glass after the third or fourth time he'd ordered his super-sized beer. Not many other regulars looked twice anymore either.

"So, you think I should find a crew?" He asked, not really too keen on the idea but knowing having someone watch your back was always a good thing. "Maybe I'll join yours." He added in jest, though there was a spark of truth to it too.

Seth laughed aloud and clapped his hands, applauding Morgan's use of the pitcher. "Remind me never to get into a drinking contest with you, big man!" Seth was still chuckling to himself when Morgan made his quip about Ed. "Ah, yeah, I tried to join the army when I was 18... Didn't take. Ed's training reminded me too much of the army. It didn't take either. I had a look at what Dorian was teaching too, but it was a bit too mystical for this lil' brain to wrap 'round. I just do my own thing, fool about with Mickey now and then when I feel like getting my gears cleaned." Seth shook his head, remembering keenly the thud of getting his boss' fist in the jaw.

Then Morgan made his remark about joining a Crew and Seth grinned slyly at him, eyes squinting from his smile, sliding side-long like a fox to regard the bigger man. "You'd certainly be welcome with us, man. 20-pound sledge is welcome too." He full-out grinned then, two rows of white but crooked teeth. "Because, when nothing else is going down, we can at least talk shop and have a beer." He slapped the other lightly on the arm then, a friendly cuff to the bicep and wiggled his eyebrows as if daring the man to keep his word. "I'll take you ‘round anytime you feel up to it."

Morgan nodded. "Soon." That was all he said to Seth's invitation. He didn't know the others, but if they were like Seth, then he could manage to at least be social. Or as close as he got to social. It might not be so bad.

Moriah brought the food next. "Here you go. Burger, rings." She put the plate in front of Seth. The burger was large, on a Kaiser bun, with all the standard fixings and a whole basket of golden onion rings. It smelled good. "And pasta... as always." She handed the large bowl of pasta, heaped with a chunky vegetable sauce and a half loaf of French bread on the side. "One of these days, you'll order something less... lame." She sighed, shaking her head as she turned to leave again. Morgan either didn't notice, or didn't care.

"You're lucky. She's in a good mood tonight." He joked dryly as he started to eat.
Seth just grinned at him. He had no doubt that his Crew would be welcoming, and excited to have such a big, strong member to their team added. He'd spoken truthfully, after all.

Then the food came and he tucked into it, streaking juicy burger toppings down the corner of one side of his mouth and washing it down with beer. It was a good meal - surprisingly so for pub fair. He made a mental note to come here again, bring some of the guys down, play some pool... "Whut?" He managed through a full mouth of food. He wasn't entirely sure whether or not Morgan was joking about Moraiah but the comment made him a little nervous. Just a little...

He glanced around, trying to see where she'd gone off to.
Morgan shook off Seth's food-spraying question. "Nothing. I just meant Moriah tends to be a bit of a bitch, unless she's trying for a decent tip. She seems less abrasive tonight. That's all." Seth's reaction made Morgan laugh on the inside. It was almost like the coyote thought he meant Moriah had taken a liking to him. Whether she had or not, that wasn't what he'd meant. And he prayed that she hadn't actually. The men Moriah dated usually ended up hurt. Not emotionally, but physically. He'd smelled the blood from the marks she'd left on her last guy. He'd lasted a full week longer than most. Impressive for a normal human.

"After you're done." Morgan started after swallowing a mouthful of pasta and hunk of bread. "I'd like to see your shop, I think. Meet Mickey. Check things out, maybe." He took a long pull of ale from the pitcher to wash things down. "Okay with you?"

Seth nodded, a little reassured. He was glad she wasn't being overly bitchy tonight, as the personalities of servers made a huge difference to him for whether or not to support them. He glanced nonchalantly around, hoping that there might be other servers in the place, so that if he came in when she was in a foul mood, he might be able to dodge the bullet.

Then Morgan mentioned wanting to go 'round Mickey's, meet the crew. Seth grinned, scrubbing burger juice out of his goatee with a paper napkin. "You bet, chief. Likely won't be many o' us around at this hour, but Mickey lives in the shop, and there's usually one or two luckies that got roped into staying late." He had finished off his beer already, and was just on the last of his onion rings, so he wouldn't be much longer. He sucked the salt off his fingers and swigged back some complimentary water. He flicked a wrist, motioning to Moriah for the check as he polished off his onion rings. For such a wiry, small guy, he could scarf food away better and faster than most.

Morgan didn't wolf his food down like Seth did, but he did tend to eat large portions at a time. So a few moments after Moriah dropped the check, literally, off at the table, he chugged the last of the ale and was done too. "Gimme that." He responded, reaching for the check. "You wanna go back for your bike or go straight to Mickey's from here?"

"It depends, do you want me sleeping at yours or not?" Seth shot back, grinning and wiggling his eyebrows. "I've got a place to sleep at Mickey's if need be, and a place to park the Gunner there where it won't be in anyone's way. Your call, chief."

Seth stood up, tightening his overalls around his waist and sliding the check across the table to Morgan. "Thanks for the date. Now I'll have to put out."

"I'll drive you back to my shop to get your bike." Morgan responded with a deadpan expression. "I don't take advantage of anyone on the first date." He winked at Seth then, a small grin appearing on his face. He was of course joking with the coyote. As stated earlier, he wasn't interested in men. "I'll follow you to Mickey's then."

He pulled out his wallet and dropped a few bills onto the check tray and snatched a mint. It looked minute in his beefy hand. Then he stood up, pushing the chair back in with a scrape. "Let's go."

Seth barked an amused laugh in response and squinting through one eye grabbed a mint, squeezed it out of its wrapper, popped the candy into his mouth and left the plastic behind on the tray. He shoved his hands into his pockets and nodded. "After you, then. Thanks for the grub, and the tip 'bout this place." He sauntered towards the door and, turning from the hips, shouldered the heavy wood as he flung up the other hand in thanks to the staff. "Great food, guys! Thanks!!"

Then he pushed out into the night, still mild enough, but untied his coverall sleeves and shrugged them on, leaving the thing unsnapped to his waist. He stopped next to the passenger side door and waited for Morgan to unlock the door.

Morgan followed Seth out to the truck and, having not locked his side, climbed in. He hit the lock and opened the passenger side. Once Seth was in, he started her up and pulled out onto the road again. He wasn't all that talkative as they drove back to his shop. Maybe talking about mechanics and such to kill the time. Once back to Morgan's place, he unlocked the shop and opened the bay door so Seth could get his bike out, then locked everything up again. He did grab his twenty pound sledge though, and tossed it into the truck. Somehow, just knowing it was there made him more comfortable.

"Okay dogboy, lead on and remember I ain't as fast or maneuverable as you, yet."

"Oh, a'course, chief. I know you wanna get a good look at the Gunner's tail lights. ...Or my ass, whichever's prettier." He slipped an old, beat-up WWI vintage helmet on, with matching aerial goggles and swung one long leg over the machine. He slipped a key into the hood and righted it off the kickstand. He started her up with a smooth rumble and wheeled her forward a little. Then, hollering over the noise to Morgan, he yelled, "Tag! You're it!!"

Morgan climbed back into his truck and rolled the window down. "Just lead the way and stop being a smart alec." He gunned the engine of the truck, a rumble in its own right as he waited for Seth to get his bike on the road. "I'll be right behind yah, but I'm telling you now. I've seen better asses." He pulled his head back into the truck and cranked the radio back on. A little classic AC/DC echoed into the night as they hit the road.

Seth cackled another laugh, snapping the goggles into position over his eyes, grinning like a lunatic. "Never! A Smart ass is all I've got going for my boyish charm!" And then he kicked down onto the bike's seat, revving the gas with one hand and shifting into gear. His Gunner sped away in a streak of blue lights and gleaming tail pipe with surprisingly fluidity of motion for a machine its size. He turned on a dime and pulled out into the open road, heading back to Mickey's.